My haze sweeps up over, around, back, twisting and turning until its shape becomes clear. I fall onto my backside as a barrier of blue walls appears, obstructing my vision.

Please wait while the Entity’s chronicles are updated….

Success. Displaying now.

Strength

19

Cattail Armament Physical Power

31

Orenda

31

General Body Strength

11

Sturdiness

10

Cattail Armament Magical Power

0

Fortitude

19

Membrane Defense

2

Perception *

21

Kiln Satellite

S.C.

Acuity *

12

—

Agility

21

Hoary

51.31%

Endurance

24

Sable

40.26%

Mend Rate

27

Vermillion

6.90%

Mana Regen

18

Heliotrope

1.53%

Contracts

[ With || With Race || Form || Type || Duration ]

Terra Iris Galtry || Human || Spirit || Reciprocal || Life

Fey Comtois || Kiln || Spirit || Domination || Dependant

Displaying Satellite Status and Chronicles (S.C.).

Name: Sir Mouser

Race: Cat-Sìth Kiln Satellite

Variant: Oort Phantasmal

Type: Overseer

Forms: [Particulate] [Collapsed **Inaccessible**]

Flame Level: 1

Durability: 46/46

Mana: 70/70

Haze Density: 28/28

Inborn Racial: [Feline Spirit Cabal] [Kiln Conveyance]

Adaptations: —

Skills: [Tenebrous Sneak (N-9)] [Invasive Scrounger (N-2))]

Titles: [Parasitic Thief +]

Chronicles

Influence

3

General Material Influence

2

Orenda

7

Membrane Support

2

Sturdiness

3

Faint Feline Shades

12

Prowess

24

Lesser Feline Remnants

1

Perception

28

—

Instinct

10

—

Agility

21

Hoary

48.11%

Tenacity

12

Heliotrope

23.46%

Mend Rate

15

Sable

22.08%

Mana Regen

11

Vermillion

6.35%

My eyes glass over, and I back away. {Earl, this is not humorous. This is not an acceptable means of trickery.}

Earl steps to my side and holds the lantern above my head, creating a circle of purple light around us. “Statement: This one is performing no trickery. Confession: This one nevertheless apologizes. The little splinter, Roach, made this one commit to allowing the Mistress to—”

A small hazy nose and whiskers poke through the shimmering barrier of blue.

“‘—experience the sensation of rediscovering her best friend.’”

The blue walls disappear alongside all sound.

In front of me is a small bluish-gray mouser with a hazy appearance, powerful glowing eyes, and smoky hair that runs downwards before rolling back into itself. In other words, it resembles me, save for the mouser’s bluish-green eyes and that they do have a mouth, though it does not seem capable of being opened.

I blink.

They blink.

I tilt my head.

They tilt their head.

My cattail sweeps back and forth.

Their tail swings back and forth.

My kiln begins to physically hurt. For the first time, I experience the strange sensation of nearly every emotion at the same time.

They lift one of their front paws and gently claw the air.

I shakily nod and open my arms. ‘It… it is I. Art thou him? Art thou… Sir Mouser?’

Dropping their paw, the mouser dashes over and leaps into my arms.

As I catch them, the mouser’s amethyst and my kiln seem to resonate. Sir Mouser’s green spark and my violet flame flicker at one another. I fall onto my side, drawing him as close as I can. Perhaps helped by the suggestions of the light, I feel as if I can understand and feel Sir Mouser’s own emotions and thoughts.

‘Prithee… prithee, forgive me. I did not know thee wast here, in this awful place.’ I move my hand across his ears and back, forming small swirls of haze along his back. These swirls brush against the amethyst, comforting him. ‘Prithee, prithee, forgive me. I did not know. I did not know.’

Sir Mouser buries his face into my shoulder, his body waving.

I nod. ‘Nay. Nay, prithee, I know it was dark. I was there too.’

Time passes; I am not certain how long, but I simply rest there with my long-lost companion.

“C-concerned Query: Is the Mistress well?” Hearing Earl’s voice, the world regains order. Earl’s lantern dangles above me. “Query: Is the Mistress well?” she asks, her lantern squeaking.

{I… I am many things right now.} Curling up with Sir Mouser at the center, I ask, {Why, Earl?}

Earl tilts her head.

{Why didst thou not tell me? Even if Roach said that they wished for me to find him, why did I not know he was here sooner?}

“...Answer: Because this one was legitimately unable to locate the beast satellite.” She waves her lantern at the surrounding mousers. “These spirit remnants and shades are attached to the satellite, but one day without warning, the spirits fled with the dormant satellite. Query: Is the Mistress upset with this one?”

{Mayhaps.} I pinch and knead Sir Mouser’s ears. He gently slaps back at my hand, covering his ears. {When I was a child, some days… some days were so tough that I sometimes daydreamed about simply never waking up. He may not have been human, but in all the loneliness and pain, he was my sole source of warmth. If not for Sir Mouser, I truly believe I would have died in some alleyway as a child—he was my knight in shining armor.}

I glance up to see a rare glimpse of anxiety upon Earl’s furrowed brows.

{So I am many things right now, mayhaps even a touch upset. I do not like that something so important to me was hidden for such a long time…} There’s a flash from my kiln and Sir Mouser’s crystal. {So Earl, thou once said that they took the form of my younger self because thou wast searching for the beast spirit. That’s reasonable since it was Sir Mouser’s spirit, yet… there is more to it than that, is there not?}

Earl opens her mouth, exposing rows of razor-sharp teeth. She hesitates and covers her mouth, looking away.

Sir Mouser sinks into my stomach, his haze swirls around my kiln, and then he jumps out. {Earl, didst thou…?}

“Response: It was necessary.”

Scratching at Earl, Sir Mouser nodes. {Earl, thou ate her.}

“Confession: This one did… absorb some bits of the Mistress’s splinters. The little splinters had been separated for so long that the splinters were not congruous with the Mistress anymore.”

{And that’s the real reason thou hast taken a few characteristics of my younger self—because thou ate a piece of my younger self.}

“Clarification: It’s not so simple; the splinters agreed! If this one did not, the Mistress would have been reborn with missing memories and quirks. And the Mistress did receive some of the memories, particularly the little splinter’s, but those memories are quarantined.”

Sir Mouser retakes his place in my arms. {How long were the three girls separated from me? How long did they wander Tenebrous?}

“Answer: This one believes the little splinter had spent around three years apart from the Mistress. The other two splinters, over a year or so.”

{I was lying on the ground for at least three years… but I recall returning just after I was hanged. How did so long pass?}

“Response: How long passed doesn’t matter. As long as a Kiln is returned to the same location that the Kiln entered, then the spirit and soul will always be drawn back to the moment the body died.”

I notice Earl’s eyes staring at Sir Mouser with perplexion.

{As punishment, I wish for thee to…} Pointing at the ground, I command, {Stay here until I am ready to leave.}

Earl blinks and nods. She walks over and sits next to me. The mouser that I chased into the glass caverns plods over and begins to walk in a circle around Sir Mouser, Earl, and me. I reach out, and it rubs against my hazy hand.

“Query: Does the Mistress recognize this spirit remnant?”

I nod. “Aye. I did not recognize her before, but that is Lady Mouser. She had kittens with Sir Mouser before passing away after she ate a funeral bell mushroom drenched in fatty grease. If thou wouldst be so kind, please stay there and keep her company.”

Lady Mouser plods over and curls into Earl’s lap. Earl’s eyes widen as she stares at the little spirit mouser.

We sit like this for a while before I speak, {It must be hard for thou too, Earl. Having memories and feelings that are foreign to thou while also dealing with the consequences of becoming an interface.} I look into the wide, white eyes of Earl. {I thank thee. Like Sir Mouser, thou art a knight.}

Earl’s eyes look to the ground. She hugs her lantern close and nods. “Response: This one serves the Mistress.”

A blue wall appears.

Achieved Interim Glister Squire [Grade 5]

You Have Shown Enough Ability to Rank A Interim Skill to the Novice Rank

Please Select One Below

[Evanesce Glister Squire]

Conditions have been met for this skill to be offered.

An Evanesce Glister Squire seeks to reclaim lost techniques and customs of ancient origin. This squire has no genuine or individual master as they endeavor to become a [Sprite] Knight that practices, seeks, and ultimately guards or extinguishes a glister of radiance buried deep in the abyss of antiquity. In other words, the masters have been long unremembered.

[Synthesis Glister Squire]

Conditions have been met for this skill to be offered.

Like Evanesce Glister Squire, a Synthesis Glister Squire seeks to reclaim lost techniques and customs of ancient origin. However, the Synthesis Glister Squire aims to claim the glister buried in the abyss and harmonize it with newer ideas. Rather than guard or extinguish it, they make it their own.

[Forlorn Shade Squire]

A return to a more straightforward and less restrictive path for those that believe that forgotten antiquity was disremembered for one good reason or another. If selected, the entity will be capable of pursuing the rare Forlorn Wraith Knight trade in the future.

While reading the wall, I glimpse Earl staring at her lantern before then saying, “Notice: This one has a highly recommended adaptation for the Mistress.”

The next day, my jumbled emotions have evaporated, leaving naught but a pool of euphoria.

From the other side of a nearby fence, I can hear the heavy breathing of army soldiers running along trails in the snow. I recognize General Riddick and stiffly wave at him. Not noticing me, he continues onward with his soldiers.

I shrug, pat my pouch pocket to ensure the item I brought is still with me. My eyes drift toward a window that leaks several slivers of light. ‘Terra never sleeps and it’s unhealthy. Lots of enthusiasm, Sir Mouser, that is always tiring for others! We shall continue until she is ready to rest… Oh, and nay we are not pilfering or stealing anything from Terra. This is not one of our stratagems of yore. I only steal sickening foods nowadays.’

Tossing a pebble, it taps against the window lightly. {Terra! Art thou awake!} I shout into my mind. A chair squeaks and is followed by footsteps. {Huzzah!}

Taking the mouser that rests atop my head, I wait eagerly. A door slowly swings open in front of me, revealing the half-opened eyes of Terra.

{Terra! Thou must witness him! But do not panic, for it is I, Constance!}

Terra’s eyes squint as they adjust to the nighttime light. “...What time is it? Who am I witnessing?”

{I am not certain.} Lowering my eyelids, I lose my night vision. {...One or two in the morning, perhaps? My apologies that it’s early, but look!} I boost Sir Mouser, casting a green gleam across Terra’s face. {It’s my best friend, Terra! It’s my best friend, and thou get to meet them! This is a momentous occasion!}

Terra’s eyes open, and she takes a step back. {Constance, if you don’t mind me asking, what breed of ‘cat’ is that?}

{Uhhm, a cat-sìth, I think?}

“A cat-sìth? The ‘king of cats!’ Malevolent spirits that are said to snatch away people’s souls!?”

‘Malevolent!? Nay, they must love each other! I can salvage this!’

{S-sir Mouser, didst thou hear that!? Terra declared that thou art the king of cats, Sir Mouser! Such a compliment!} My eyes widen, and with my arms still extended, I eerily step toward her. {Thou must truly adore my best friend, Sir Mouser, to say such a thing, correct Terra?}

Freezing in place, she tilts her head and asks, {Sir Mouser? The cat you loved from London? Not just a cat you found in the spirit realm decided to bring to me?}

I nod enthusiastically and pull Sir Mouser into my arms.

{Constance, that’s amazing!}

{Aye, I love him, and I could not wait to show thee! ...Which I apologize once again for.} Now standing in Terra’s RV that I have not seen for quite some time, I glance around, finding a cup of warm brown liquid. {...Terra, didst thou stay up all night again partaking of the bean water instead of sleeping?}

She gestures for me to enter and then shuts the door behind me. “It’s coffee, Constance, you know that already. But please don’t start calling it ‘bean water.’ The Pilgrims might legitimately start calling it that, and if I have to start ordering ‘bean water’ instead of coffee from a barista in the future, I’ll never forgive you.” With a laugh and a gentle smile, she sits and looks at Sir Mouser. “But I want to hear about Sir Mouser. Are there more? Did you see other spirits?”

Hurrying over, I take a seat across from Terra. {Aye, there were thirteen others! One of them was Lady Mouser, she was the strongest, and the others are weaker ones that Earl said were attracted by Sir Mouser’s presence. I am not surprised, though, it was that way in London too.}

“Really? Thirteen of them? There were so many?”

I nod. {Aye, is that interesting?}

“No, I just really need to begin looking for my own spirit, so that I can begin developing them. I’d really rather have an animal spirit, to be honest. Humans can be more versatile and easier to find, it’s just, well, if I had a choice I know I’d prefer animal.”

{...Thou could possibly have one of the mousers.}

“N-no, I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was asking. Those sound like they already have some kind of bond with Sir Mouser.”

I look at Sir Mouser who tilts their head. The crystal begins to flicker. {Well, they will have a purpose, but if they choose to go with thee then we do not see an issue.}

Terra watches us with a fascinated expression. “Did you two just communicate?”

{Aye! We never required words in the past, and now it’s even easier.}

“Wow. That incredible.” She pauses, I can tell she is contemplating my mouser proposal. “I’ll think about it. But tell me more about Sir Mouser, what happened? Where did he come from? How did you find him?”

{Then I shall tell thee!}

I begin to explain everything that has transpired in order. As I reveal more and more, her grin gives way to a fixed gaze, then a furrowed brow, and by the end, she’s staring at the ground biting the tip of her thumb.

When she notices I am finished, she glances up and catches my gaze. Straightening her back, she smiles. “That’s honestly incredible, and Sir Mouser is so handsome and cute too.”

Sir Mouser mimics Terra and straightens his back as well.

{Is something the matter, Terra?}

With a sigh, she responds, “I’ll admit I still don’t know what to think about what you say about the spirit realm; I had no idea that new worldly spirits were born from the splintered pieces of a recently deceased spirit. It’s simultaneously fascinating, beautiful, and disturbing.”

{I suppose, in a way, it is all of those things.} I watch her face regain its faraway look, and I question, {But that’s not all that is bothering thou is it not?}

“No, I’m sorry, Constance, but do you mind if I rant for a second?”

{...Aye, feel free.}

“So, where do I begin?” She props her head in her hand. “The Pitt’s Maw, Jessica, and Leo, I can’t find any sign of them, but I did find Leo’s family. He just left them, up and vanished. Had his family examined, given a physical by doctors, and an x-ray—completely normal human beings. After that, I got word that the Espositos are acting odd as well, being unusually tight-lipped. I doubt it’s linked; it’s just irritating because the Espositos are ordinarily too proud to act so covertly.”

{...I had not heard how the hunt for Jessica and Leo had gone. It is odd that they knew thou wert searching for them.}

She nods. “But honestly, I was chiefly reflecting on the Hex Church and my father.”

{Thy father?}

“Yeah. After our talk with General Riddick the other day and everything you’ve told me, I keep coming to the same conclusion… Everything’s just so absurdly convenient for him. It’s a thought I’ve had for some time now, but the man, the Hex Church in general, specializes in spirits, and suddenly, all these Kiln show up, bringing along what else but, spirits. The Hex Church had at least two Kiln, Fey and Proximo, in that coffin....”

In secret, Sir Mouser slips from my lap and walks atop a table where a small book lies. His eyes sharpen, and the book gradually commences rising off the table.

Crossing her legs, Terra shakes her head and continues, “Then, General Riddick verified that they’ve always thought New York City was indefensible, that they never believed they could maintain it. The Hex Church could have organized in any city, yet they chose New York City. Where they’ve sunk their roots deepest, all these spiritual elements have come into play and no one intended to do anything about it from the beginning. How and how long have they known this was all going to happen? I mean, how many years ahead could they have been planning the unplannable?”

{Aye, some of those worries thou hast mentioned before… But did something more recent happen to make thou think this?}

“No! They haven’t done anything suspicious and that’s horrifying!” Releasing a long breath, Terra raises her arms and asks, “If they’ve been planning this, why aren’t they doing anything? Are we just doing what they want!? ...Are we just dancing on their palm so perfectly that they can quietly sit back and enjoy the show at their leisure?”

{What about the fact that the Bishop wants to get into the Tower?}

“I’m not surprised. The Tower is a direct line to the spirit realm. Why wouldn’t he want in?”

{Doth thou believe he knoweth that!?}

“I don’t know what he knows, and that’s the problem. Is the man clairvoyant? Is he a time traveler? Is he simply a super-mega genius, thinking on levels I could only dream!?” she says, with a chuckle, exaggerating, I think. Stifling a yawn, she sinks into her chair. “Why is he trying to do things legitimately for once in his life? I just don’t know. And...” Once again, she sighs and then massages her temples. “...And I’m frustrated.”

{I shall be there regardless of what he may or may not be.} In Terra’s silver and green eyes, I can see her look grow withdrawn. Standing, I remove a fig from my pouch that I brought from Fairy’s Pantry and hold it toward Terra. {And, of course, I believe in thee.}

She stares at the fig, raises an eyebrow, and takes it. “...Thank you?”

{Thou did not wish for me to make thee something, so I brought thou a fig.} I rub the nape of my neck and glance at the ground. {Was it not thy birthday sometime recently?}

“T-thank you.” Her cheeks blush, and her jaw drops as she glances at a nearby calendar. “I-I think my birthday was yesterday. What day is it?”

{Wednesday, perhaps?}

“It was three days ago.”

Sir Mouser returns, the book hovering in the air above him.

“Telekinesis?” Terra whispers.

{Earl stated it was a stat called ‘influence.’ A natural ability amongst phantasms.}

Taking the book, I walk over to Terra, who blinks and then slides over to make room. I sit next to her, and Sir Mouser follows behind, positioning himself on the backrest where he props his head on my shoulder.

{Sir Mouser and I had a tradition where we would eat apples at the orchard and tell stories on my birthday, but I apologize I do not have apples.}

My legs begin to sway back and forth while my eyes drift to the book titled “Paradox-Arcadia.” {But I was able to have Mrs. Jäger make this book for us to enjoy together. I am glad Kenneth was able to have her deliver it to thee on time!} I open the book, revealing little doodles painted, and then point happily for Terra and Sir Mouser to see. {Be amazed because it has pictures! Doctor Jäger said his wife was good at painting, and picture books Sir Mouser and I’s favorites. So I wanted to share a fruit and picture book with thee for thy birthday.}

A drop of liquid hits one of the pictures, so I reactively pull the book away.

Sir Mouser and I tilt our heads and look over to discover Terra stopping a second tear from hitting the book. She swallows, and in a soft voice, says, “I’m sorry.” Taking a tiny bite of the fig, she moves a touch closer. “I… P-please continue.”

There’s a flash from Sir Mouser’s crystal. I shrug. ‘I do not know Sir Mouser. Perhaps she truly loves picture books.’ Turning the page, I hold the picture book so that everyone can see it. ‘I hope so because they are simply matchless!’

{In ancient eras past, there existed a land drowning in spiritual energies and opulent beyond imagination—Arcadia!}

A half-hour later, I have read the story twice. My feet cease swaying and I glance over to see Terra, eyes closed, breathing softly. I raise the palm of my arc suit, unzip it, and then hold it toward Sir Mouser.

Sir Mouser’s bluish-gray body begins to evaporate as both his haze and amethyst slide into my leather gloves. The haze rejoins me, and the amethyst revolves around my kiln. Like this, I can feel Sir Mouser’s thoughts and emotions while he can see through my eyes.

‘Terra, how many days straight hast thou been up now? Three at least, perhaps more?’ I gently get up and lay Terra down on the couch before covering her in a blanket. ‘Aye, I am glad I decided to come early now. I had a feeling she would not be sleeping as she should.’

My hand rubs across my helmet.

‘Though I am a tad sad, I did not get to discuss Lorcan or my new adaptation with her. I wished for her opinion on the latter, but I believe I already know which I will choose.’

Walking through the gates and past the Galtry Syndicate guards, my eyes drift to a sign that reads, “Fairy’s Capture Quest Judging Today During Festival.”

‘Aye, the festival that’s today too. Then the Tower opens tomorrow. Aye! So much to do, Sir Mouser, so much to do. Yet, with Terra and thee, I believe I shall be able to make it.’