An excerpt from Yenna Bookbinder’s ‘The Travelling Mage’s Almanac.’

“Generally when dealing with spiritkind, one would do well to first understand what motivates it and what it desires. Spirits are creatures of pure magic, though the actual sort of energy and expression thereof differs between them, meaning that they do not pursue the kinds of goals or behaviours other living creatures may have in mind: feeding, fighting, fleeing or procreating. Their goals are as unusual as they are, and many move with single-minded purpose towards them. In this case, I had made a crucial error—I had failed to anticipate the spirit’s desires. Since then, I have made great strides in spells that end possession, and…”

“What have you done to her?!” Captain Eone’s voice barked out, angry and fearful. One of her hands had started to go for her sword, but thought better of it. As furious as she was, she didn’t wish to risk further angering the spirit—but stood ready at the edge of the clearing nonetheless. Demvya, for what it was worth, did not seem to understand that she had done anything wrong. A look of honest confusion appeared on the possessed Jiin’s face as Demvya adjusted to operating a body made of flesh and blood.

“IT IS MY DESIRE TO SPEAK WITH THE PEOPLE OF THE VALLEY. THOU KNOWEST WELL A TEMPLE OF STONE CANNOT TRAVEL, THUS MUST I INHABIT THIS FLESH. IT SHALL BE RETURNED TO THY COMPANION ONCE MY QUEST IS COMPLETED.”

The assembled crew appeared uneasy as the crew quietly chattered—Yenna could hear hushed plottings of rescue attempts, prayers for salvation, and worries over their friend’s wellbeing. Out of the corner of her eye, the mage could see Jiin’s friend Mayi, utterly mortified. Eone raised an arm to hush everyone, and to stop any rash action. The captain’s stony gaze fixed upon Demvya, her jaw tensing with determination.

“Mage Yenna. Can we trust it?” Eone asked, her gaze fixed on the spirit.

“I– Yes. Y-Yes, we can—spirits are generally quite honest about their intentions, and we have no reason to doubt her. So long as we do not anger her, Demvya will give Jiin back her body.” Yenna chose her words carefully as she nodded, knowing full well that the captain might try to do something rash if the answer was unsatisfactory.

“Answer me this, Demvya. What have you done with Jiin? Is she still in there?” Eone’s eyes flicked over to the stone pillar.

“AH, MORTAL, THOU MISUNDERSTANDS. THY ALLY’S SOUL RESTETH QUIETLY WITHIN THE SEA OF HER BEING, THE REINS OF VOLITION PASSETH UNTO ME. NO HARM SHALL BEFALL HER UNLESS THEE AND THINE CHOOSE TO CAUSE IT.”

Eone looked over to Yenna, who realised she needed to translate. “When someone is possessed, typically their consciousness—their mind and soul is simply pushed to one side. It’s like she’s sleeping. Jiin isn’t in any danger, unless Demvya stays in there for too long.”

“So we must fulfil your request with haste. So be it.” Eone’s frown spoke volumes for her concern for Jiin as well as her anger over the situation. Her expression eased slightly only after a sigh, having decided. “Still, I suppose we were going to try and investigate these people of the valley regardless. Now, where to start? Demvya, do you know where they are?”

“AWAY FROM THIS PLACE, O’ER HILL AND DESCENDING TOWARDS THE SETTING SUN, ONE FOLLOWS LIFE’S WINDING STREAM UNTO A VALLEY O’ PLENTY.”

Confused eyes turned to Eone, who in turn looked to Yenna. The mage felt her nerves tense as she accepted that it would be her job to translate the imprecision of the spirit’s speech.

“She mentioned this earlier,” Yenna noted, pulling out a small map of the region from her bag, “So I mentally checked the fitting locations. There are a few valleys not too far from here, and one has a small river that flows towards the west to a wider, more open space between the hills. But…”

Handing the map to Eone, she pointed to the location on the map—no town marker graced its location—and any location nearby for that matter. With a few flicks of her fingers, she was able to signal to Eone to read her lips. Yenna mouthed the words, ‘No one lives there.’

“IS AUGHT AMISS? I HAVE GRANTED THEE DIRECTION, LET US AWAY.” Demvya seemed to have become accustomed to Jiin’s body, standing with her hands on her hips. Eone blinked away her surprise and looked up at the spirit whose commanding presence and stance were thoroughly at odds with the friendly girl whose body she possessed.

“Nothing’s wrong. Follow us to our caravan, and we’ll take you to the valley.” Eone signalled to her crew to move out, whispering a command to Mysilia to return to those waiting with Chime and inform them of the events that had occured.

When the forward group returned, the silupker’s beatific face was turned towards them, waiting with antennae raised. While Yenna didn’t fully understand the expression, it appeared Chime was worried for them. Likewise, Hirihiri’s face was set into a hard expression while young Tirk didn’t seem too upset. Yenna wondered if he had been informed in the first place. Her curiosity was quickly satisfied as the boy ran over, hugging the captain and turning to Demvya with eyes wide with wonder.

“Are you really, really a spirit? What’s it like, being a spirit?” Tirk’s enthusiasm got the better of him but no one made a move to stop him. Yenna quietly worried he might annoy the spirit into doing something unpleasant, but she recalled the otherworldly patience with which Demvya had answered her own questions.

“SMALL MORTAL. I AM THE GODDESS DEMVYA—ADDRESS ME AS SUCH. I KNOW NOT OF SPIRITS.” Demvya was ushered into a place to sit on Chime’s back, and Tirk followed close by.

“Wo-ow, a real goddess! Can you do any magic tricks? Like, lightning bolts and stuff?” A few people tensed as Tirk asked, but again no one stopped him.

“I AM FAR BEYOND SUCH SIMPLE ‘TRICKS’. I HOLD SWAY OVER LIFE AND ITS GROWTH, THOUGH MY POWER HAS WANED WITH INATTENTION. WOULDST THAT I HAD WORSHIP AND TRIBUTE—I WOULDST GROW THEE A FOREST TO PROVE MY DIVINITY.”

Yenna listened in from nearby as she clambered up onto her seat, writing the dialogue all down in her journal. It was known to researchers that spirits who either pretended or genuinely believed they were gods could draw power from worship, though it wasn’t clear exactly how that process took place. The prevailing theory was that a spirit siphoned away some resource from within a person’s body, though typically an amount that a regular person wouldn’t miss—such as from their own internal stores of magic, which most didn’t need or even know about. As Chime stood and began moving, Yenna wondered if she wouldn’t get to observe this transfer in action. As fortune would have it, Tirk’s needling and probing brought him back to an interesting topic.

“So, you can do lots of magic tricks and things, but someone’s gotta pay attention to you? Like, give you stuff and say how wonderful you are and whatnot?” Yenna couldn’t see the boy but had the foresight to prepare her magical sight spell—she could partly see through the crate in their way, observing the vague magical presence of the other members of the crew in the same direction alongside the shining beacon of magic that was the spirit Demvya. While everyone else was a vague blob of their own stored magical power, Demvya’s presence was a clear-cut, shining silhouette of Jiin’s body.

“THOU ART A CREATURE OF INSIGHT. WOULDST THOU PLEDGE THYSELF UNTO ME, THE GODDESS DEMVYA? THEN THOU WOULDST SEE MY POWER.”

There was a quiet ‘Hmm’ and the sound of bated breath—even from where she was, Yenna could sense that the captain’s right-hand man Muut was about to step in and stop the boy, though it soon proved unnecessary.

“Well, I don’t think I ought to go and pledge myself or whatever that means, but I can give you something nice…that’s what tribute is, right? Um…” There was a rustling sound as Tirk rummaged through his pockets and, finding a shiny rock, offered it up. “Here you go! Tribute for you, Goddess Demvya!”

Yenna’s eyes widened. A tiny sliver of the magic within Tirk’s being had been willingly attached to the tiny stone. Even now, the sliver in his being was regenerating as was to be expected, but the spirit reached out and took the item as though it was a fine nugget of gold. The tiny piece of magic attached to the item flowed into Demvya’s being, and her silhouette glowed ever so slightly brighter. With one hand holding the magic sight spell she feverishly recorded the finding into her journal. Not even a day out on the road and already she had witnessed such a rare sight!

Filled with curiosity and aided by Chime’s smooth movements, Yenna hopped to her feet and moved as high up as she could. It was a bit awkward, leaning over the top of the packed boxes that separated each of the sitting spaces, but Yenna was high enough to watch as Demvya conjured a small, white flower from nothing. Tirk’s eyes widened with surprise—even more so when Demvya gently pushed the flower’s stem into his hair. It made the already adorable boy look that much more cherubic, but it also showed the kind of spirit that Demvya was.

Yenna thought back to her studies. In arcanobiology, the study of magical creatures, spiritkind is sorted into many sub-groups. Unlike similar fields where the groups are determined based on physical features, the entirely incorporeal spiritkind are instead sorted based on their actions and demeanour. From Yenna’s understanding of the subject, Demvya would be categorised as a ‘guardian’, a grouping exemplified by their willingness to cooperate with corporeal beings in an entirely genuine manner. In other words, Yenna could trust Demvya to keep her word, being that unless the spirit was pulling a sort of convoluted trick, no spirit would give their limited supply of power away so freely just to see a child smile.

Yenna took advantage of the fact that Demvya’s attention was solely concentrated on her most recent worshipper to perform some readings and observations. While most people thought of mages simply as people who could conjure sparkles and balls of flame, they thought little about the sheer amount of study required of mages to even achieve those little miracles. The top of the boxes she had been leaning over slowly turned into a haphazard research station as she littered its surface with arcane instruments and scrawled notes. The main problem was things nearly blowing away in the wind—Demvya was still ostensibly trying to draw in some magic, which had the unfortunate side effect of causing the small wind-wall Yenna conjured to protect her notes to falter from time to time.

Yenna concluded in the end that Demvya wasn’t particularly powerful. Long years of neglect had caused their power to wane, the spirit slowly losing magical reserves and not having any way to regain it on her own. A neglected spirit eventually faded and ceased to be, either dissolving into the ambient magic or passing out of reality to a heavily-debated location¹. The fact that Demvya had remained cognizant this long was either evidence of the quality of her seal, or a sure sign that she had once been considerably worshipped. Her abilities to express magical power seemed to be extremely limited, her current supply of magic being used to sustain her existence. To Yenna’s relief, it didn’t appear as though the spirit was capable of accessing Jiin’s personal well of magic.

Yenna looked up to the sky to realise that an entire hour had passed. It was now late into the afternoon and the rumbling of stomachs was starting to grow bothersome. The adventurers had not managed to eat anything the whole day, distracted as they were by Demvya’s presence. Chime’s pace was gently slowing as they crested a hill and slowed to a halt at a relatively flat patch of grass. Looking down into the valley below, Yenna traced the path of a gentle stream with her eye as it coursed past untouched wilderness.

The mage looked further, past trees and scrub, until she caught a glimpse of their likely destination—half-buried remnants of ancient beings, once-prosperous fields now dry and desolate, all scattered around a crumbled temple. Here was the home of the people of the valley—or whatever was left of them.

¹ - Aforementioned debate on location strays heavily into the realm of the religious. Theories range from the existences of one or more ‘afterlives’, to planar layers wherein souls (in this case, faded spirits) are washed clean of all their acts in life to be born anew. The perfect way to entirely ruin a scholar’s day is to ask them where they stand on the debate while in the midst of polite company, for there is no answer that doesn’t tread on someone’s hooves.