by Ashta, Lucia
As new as some of us were to the academy, we were already a family of sorts—a very peculiar, mismatched one. The most important matter was my return to life. Everything else was just a bonus.
There was nothing lost in attempting to help Sibylle, and there was everything to gain for this poor girl, who’d long suffered a terrible fate.
I was already navigating a world of magic I was hardly qualified to navigate. What was the harm in expanding that world to include spirits?
“Come on, Sibylle. It’s time to set you free.”
I released my hold on my brother and my body entirely, and felt myself float away, like a blossom on an aimless breeze.
Chapter 4
The moment I felt it, I realized what it was.
Sibylle and I hadn’t been floating away for long when I sensed the opportunity for her to move on—to wherever one went after dying.
She sensed it too. Her timid, frightened features tightened, and I was able to read, upon her otherwise youthful face, every one of the years she’d drifted alone.
“I should stay with you until you find Albacus,” she offered, only it wasn’t a selfless offer, despite sounding like one.
“Thank you, but you should go. You’ve already waited too long, and you sense it too.” It wasn’t a question.
“What is it though?”
“I don’t know, Sibylle, nor am I sure I’m supposed to. I’m going to return to my body, you’re not. What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know either.” She responded far too quickly. What was making this girl cower now, after having longed for nothing but this for more than a century?
I debated what to do, whether to push her or not. Then I remembered that I was in a hurry, and couldn’t afford to mess around. “I think you do know,” I pushed, and she didn’t like it.
“I said I don’t know.” She pouted, suddenly looking far too little like a tormented ghost and more like a teenage girl afraid of the unknown.
I opened my mouth to protest—or did I? I still wasn’t sure how this dead thing worked. Was I really here like I felt I was? Was Sibylle here? Was this all in my imagination? Was life anything more than a belief that we lived?
I shook the distracting questions away. I had to keep my thoughts focused and get done what I needed to do. People had been pondering death for as long as humans existed; it wasn’t likely that I’d figure it out in a few minutes, especially when under duress.
I decided on another approach. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.” Again, she spoke far too quickly to be anything more than a knee-jerk defense.
“I don’t judge you for it. I’m afraid too.” And that was the honest-to-goodness truth. I was terrified, working hard not to let my fear drive my actions.
The nebulous sensation from before grew stronger, until it eventually concentrated into a soft, warm light. It was a lot like a patch of sunshine on a cool day. You just longed to bask within it. You knew it was going to feel amazing, nurturing, the kind of warmth filled with goodness.
The patch was golden, and it wasn’t for me. I sensed that it was for Sibylle alone. A wave of tangible relief spread through me. If I wasn’t ready to move on to the next step in my path, then there was a real chance that I could return to my body, and that Mordecai really did know what he was talking about.
There was a part of me that worried there was no coming back from death. After all, being dead was pretty final—or at least, it was supposed to be. You couldn’t get much more final than dead.
The closer we drew to the light, the warmer and more pleasant it felt. I almost wanted to go into it. Almost.
I’d nearly forgotten all about Sibylle in the pull of the glow when she said, “Are you really afraid?”
I smiled at her. “Of course I am. I just died. I’m more frightened than I’ve ever been in my life.” The expression made me pause. I’d said it out of habit, but there was no more ‘in my life’ for me, not yet.
I also realized that what I’d said wasn’t entirely true. Yes, I was scared, but I was also unexpectedly calm, as if there was no point in fretting about my circumstances, so I’d just let the worry go. Hmmnh. That was interesting, but not what Sibylle needed to hear right then.
“This is what you’ve been waiting for all this time,” I said, as gently as I could.
She stared at the large patch of sunlight until she finally said, “I know. It’s just that I have no idea what will happen to me once I go into it.”
“I can’t tell you because I don’t know either. I don’t think anyone knows. We just have to trust. Have faith that everything will be well, and it will be.”
Where I was pulling the words of wisdom from, I had no idea. It was like Elwin was influencing me. Whatever the case, I was glad for my sudden maturity. Sibylle had to go. She’d be glad once she did, I had to believe that.
“And what if it’s not? What if I just... disappear?”
“Is that really what you think will happen?”
“No, but what if?”
“Well, what if? What if you go into the light and simply cease to exist? Would that be all that bad? It’d put an end to your loneliness.”
Here I was, floating along with a ghost, and debating the afterlife—an existential conundrum that had no answer until you faced it yourself.
Sibylle had to go, I could feel it in my nonexistent gut. It was the right step for her. I’d say whatever made sense to get her to continue on her path. “You can’t avoid it. You shouldn’t avoid it.”
“I shouldn’t?”
“No, Sibylle, you shouldn’t. You’ve already survived in this half state for more than a century. How much longer do you want to continue like this?”
“I don’t.”
“All right then. This is what you have to do.” And fast, I thought. I was starting to feel the pressure of getting back to Acquaine and my lifeless body.
But Sibylle didn’t move. If anything, she clung to my hand tighter, a pressure I didn’t feel, but recognized by sight.
I stopped floating or flying or whatever I was doing toward the glow to face her. I gripped both of her hands as much as a spirit could. “It’s the right step. Trust in goodness. You were a kind person in your life, weren’t you?”
“Yes.” She was back to being shy.
“Do you believe you deserve good things? Peace?”
She had to think about that for a moment, but finally nodded her plaited red hair. “I do.”
“Then trust that you’ll receive exactly that. There’s no reason for you not to.”
There was no change in her expression. She didn’t move to loosen her grip on my hands.
Just as I started to worry that this was taking far too long, she surprised me. “All right. I’ll do it.”
“You’re ready then?” I smiled encouragement. As much as I needed to rush, I sympathized with how intimidating this next step was. It was the greatest unknown of all. One we had to completely give ourselves over to, even as it held within it the potential to control us for all eternity.
“No, not even a little bit. All the time I’ve waited hasn’t prepared me for this.” She went through the motions of inhaling deeply. “But I’ll do it.”
“I think you’ll be grateful you did.”
“I hope you’re right.”
I do too. I worked not to reveal how nervous for her I was. “I have the feeling that I am.”
I put us into motion again. All it took was a thought that I wanted us to continue our progress toward the light, and we were floating toward it again.
Once we were so close to the patch of glowing light that I could feel its warmth across my skin as if I were still alive and soaking in the sunshine, Sibylle started to pull on me to slow our progress.
I allowed it. We were almost there; her moment had nearly arrived. “You’ll do fine,” I said.
She simply nodded. I suspected it was because she was warring
within herself not to back out.
I pictured us at the handoff point, and just like that, like magic, we arrived. Sibylle dragged me to a halt.
“There’s no point in delaying now,” I said. “It’ll just make you worry more. Go ahead. Rush right in there. Have faith.”
She nodded again, her eyes pinned on the bright glow directly in front of us, but she didn’t take a step. It looked like she was squeezing my hand.
Like a bird pushing her chick out of the nest, I disentangled my hand from hers and brought it pointedly to my side. “I have the feeling that once you go in there, you won’t feel alone anymore.”
“You think?” She turned hopeful eyes on me.
“I do. I believe everything will make sense, and every hardship will vanish all at once.” Until that moment, I hadn’t realized that’s what I believed, but when I spoke the words, I did. “Your suffering will be over.”
Still, she hesitated.
“Don’t delay that,” I continued softly.
She nodded yet again, this time to herself. She was talking herself into doing it, I could tell.
“I’m happy to have met you, though I’m sorry you were stuck at Acquaine for so long before I came along.”
“I think maybe I was stuck only because I thought I was.” She was sheepish as she said it, but it was a poignant realization.
She’d only had to picture herself free, and she would have been, I was almost certain. It hadn’t been that difficult for me, and I had no idea what I was doing.
All that had bound her to the estate had been her own fear, her inability to trust and let go.
Which was exactly what she needed to do now. It was sad that she could have done so more than a century ago.
But there was nothing either of us could do about her previous choices. She could, however, affect her present.
“Well,” I said. “You don’t have to be stuck a second more.”
Again, she nodded, and my heart went out to how much the girl had to work to build the courage to take those final steps.
“I’ll wait here until you’ve made your way.”
Her head snapped in my direction. “You will?” The glow of the light colored her face and made her look almost alive once more. It was easy to imagine how pretty she must have been with rosy cheeks and a happy smile. I hoped she’d been happy in life.
“I absolutely will wait until I’m certain that you’ve completed your next step.”
She looked back toward the light, wariness evident.
“I won’t leave you until you don’t need me anymore.” I’d taken on a maternal role, which was odd given that I suspected I was only three or four years older than her. But she was frightened, and I was forcing myself to believe that I wasn’t. I was stronger than her in this moment, and that was all that mattered.
“Now... go,” I urged. “Trust. Believe. And take the step.”
I didn’t think my words would work, but she’d accepted that further delay would only make it harder.
Thank you, she mouthed, then moved forward.
Her body was rigid, but she forced herself to keep going.
And then she was so close to the light that her figure was hard to see.
I could barely make out her face when she turned to look at me one last time. But I was glad she did.
All fear was erased. Her smile was beautiful, serene, and filled with all the peace I wished for her.
She took two more steps toward the glow, and she lit up like she truly was alive again.
Then, with her next steps, she faded entirely.
The light was too bright, and she was barely there.
And then, she was gone.
I could feel it in my heart—or whatever intuition governed my being then—that she’d moved on. Her spirit had released its turmoil and embraced complete serenity.
Even so, I watched the glow for a long time.
Finally, it, too, faded.
“Goodbye, Sibylle,” I said, and smiled.
One mission accomplished. One to go. Then back to my body before the light tried to claim me.
Chapter 5
Once the light fully faded, and I was by myself in the... well, I wasn’t exactly sure where I was. I didn’t know, and I hoped I didn’t need to.
When I was alone wherever I was, I figured I’d float along for a while, eventually—somehow—find Albacus, and then return to my body.
I should have known there was no way it’d be that simple. Little had been simple since I’d arrived at the academy, and absolutely nothing had gone to plan.
Once the light vanished, my surroundings remained blank only for a minute before it began to teem with movement.
I took a few hurried floating steps backward, but they were to no avail.
The blank space that had surrounded me dissolved like a mirage to reveal dozens of spirits, who looked like regular people, except that they were translucent, just as I was. What shook me was that they were all flying straight toward me, as if they were in a race to converge on the location I occupied.
I wanted desperately to move out of their way, but a few glances behind me revealed that they were about to completely surround me.
“What do you want?” I called out with all the bluster I could gather, making sure to hold onto my lifeline with all my might. If these spirits were about to rough me up—assuming they could do that in the spirit world—I wasn’t going to let go of my way back into my body.
At my call, the spirits did nothing to slow their approach. If anything, they flew at me faster.
I looked up and down; there were no spirits in either direction. If I had to flee, I’d choose to go downward, I decided. Hopefully that would lead me back to my body.
At this point, if I didn’t find Albacus, I was all right with that, as long as I could go back to myself.
The spirits weren’t slowing down, and they were nearly upon me. “What are you doing?” I tried again. Though I didn’t want my voice to sound panicked, it had.
They were closing in on me. I could make out their faces now that they were almost on top of me. Their expressions confused me. They didn’t look unkind or menacing. On the contrary, they looked entirely like ordinary people of all walks of life.
There were old and young. And they were all going far too fast. Surely they’d knock me off my feet!
I clung to my mental image of my lifeline with everything I had, and braced for impact.
I only realized I’d shut my eyes when I squinted them open to discover that every single spirit had come to an abrupt halt an arm’s length away from me.
There were so many of them that they formed a circle multiple spirits deep. Every face pointed in my direction and waited... waited for what?
I feared I was about to suffer another episode of claustrophobia. An almost physical desperation for space.
“Please.” I gulped for the air I felt I needed no matter what my brain tried to argue. My mind wasn’t in control now. I was operating on instinct. “Give me space.”
No one moved.
“I need you to back up.”
They continued to stare, tilting their heads to the side as though they were all a very odd pack of dogs.
My pulse was going wild. My lungs weren’t pulling in enough air. I was sweating, and I didn’t care one bit that it was all impossible given I was dead.
My stomach churned and knotted itself, and I’d had enough.
“You will move away from me right this second!” I yelled. In this strange spirit world, I heard my voice echo back at me.
Many of the ghosts looked affronted that I’d shouted. I didn’t care how they felt, I just wanted them to move. And now.
“You have no right whatsoever to make me feel uncomfortable like this. If you want to talk to me”—which is what I hoped this was all about, a bunch of spirits in limbo for so long that they’d forgotten basic manners—“then you’ll take ten big steps back.”
Several responded ri
ght away and moved backward, but this only caused chaos when the ghosts behind them hadn’t moved first. Oh, it’s not like they were trampling and hurting each other; they were specters after all. But they were passing through each other, and that was something the rest of them did react to.
The intimidating group erupted into cries of don’t touch me and get out of me. They slapped, shoved, and pushed while I stared on, stunned and rooted to the spot.
What was going on?
“Stop!” I cried, and everyone did. The earth must have turned on its axis if I was the mature presence here. “Everyone, stop what you’re doing, get out of each other’s way, and back up to create space.”
It shouldn’t have been that complicated, yet it was. It was like watching a group of drunken partygoers. (Nando and I had laughed for hours—in secret, of course—one time when Uncle invited acquaintances over and they’d all imbued too much spirit.)
The ghosts hadn’t done exactly what I’d asked, but it was close enough that whatever sense of claustrophobia I’d had was receding.
“So,” I started, and they all paused in what they were doing to study me. “Why were you flying at me like that? What do you want with me?”
Dozens of voices began speaking at once.
I held up a hand. “I can’t understand you if you all talk at once.” It’s like dealing with spoiled children. “Please, one at a time.”
When they started again, less of them spoke, but still too many.
“Look, whatever it is you want, I don’t have time for this. I’m in a hurry, you see. I have someone to find and then to return to my own body.” So I don’t end up here with all of you.
“Who are you looking for?” a spirit from the back of the more-or-less circular grouping around me called.
“A man named Albacus.” I realized with a bit of shock that I didn’t really know much more about him than that. “He’s a wizard.” Dead people must be aware of magic, right? They’d be past all that nonsense people like my uncle believed. For him magic wasn’t real, but the people who claimed to practice it were willing to do immoral things to accomplish their delusions, which meant they needed to be stopped—permanently.