He'd had a dream last night, of his family and most especially of his mother. Holding his hand, walking outside she sang one of her lovely songs. When he'd awoken the words had faded, but in the dream he had known every note intimately.She'd given him her necklace in the dream, as she had the last night she was alive. She'd folded it into his hands and told him she was always with him, so long as he had the necklace. He'd looked into her face, but all he could remember of it were her eyes.
"You're dead." He remembered saying, and how the fire rose at the memory of his crime. But she'd smiled, unafraid of the flames.
"I am always with you." She told him again. "Live, my little one. Live and thrive, so that we can live in your memories."
He had woken up crying, clutching the necklace before he even fully awoke. He remembered the dream only slowly, but her message to him was clear. He had to keep living, he had to reach for his future. But what was his future? It lay in the sciences, he supposed, or possibly alchemy or math. Things that were logical, things that were comforting in their rules.
When he calmed he held the necklace between his hands and promised the spirit of his mother that he would try. He would find the right path, or he would follow all three. He would live, and he would atone so that one day he would stop being haunted by the hungry ghosts.
