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The Phantom and the Fairy

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.With nothing to do but listen to the moans of pain from his guardian as they awaited the return of Aphismet, Eiry took the liberty of meeting an old friend in hopes of ignoring his troubles at home. At the park, they were The Phantom and the Fairy.

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Frolicking in the Flowers...

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.Property is a relatively important thing to Isikoro. So when someone dares to trespass it, like Josh did, it's only natural to defend his home with a shotgun. But what is Josh doing Frolicking in the Flowers in the first place?.

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Brotherly Interrogation

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. After an eventful day, the Delaran family hop into the Delaran van and head home for the night. While the raevan brothers Eiry and Rivener play word games in the back seat, Aphi and Isi engage in a Brotherly Interrogation. .

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We need to STOP meeting like this!

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. Isi's and Eiry's new gardening service is established and they have their first customer! Unfortunately, their employer is none other than the person Isi gets along with the least. We need to STOP meeting like this!But what's this? A new frei? Will Eiry and this new kin get along?.

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Jarring

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. "Shalbriri!"

With the perk of velveteen ears, the sheep demon made chimera lifted its horned head to stare expectantly at the trap door to the tree house. Moments later, the tell-tale ethereal form of Eiry pushed through, ignoring the hassle of undoing the rusty latch on the port. A bright ear-to-ear smile was plastered onto his greyed cheeks and, for being made from something undead, he was full of life. He pulled his ribbon free from the solid plane of the ground before he, with the single flex of this whim, became solid once more. In his arms was a kitchen towel-wrapped bundle of goods that Shalbriri could only assume was for lunch.

"Greetings!" Eiry cooed as he beckoned his pet over, "Goodfeel today? I brought you favorite; oatmeal!" Unwrapping the parcel, he set down the stolen box and watched happily as Shalbriri slunk over and started tearing through the box, swallowing cardboard and all and leaving an explosion of oatmeal on the floor. Pleased, Eiry weaved his fingers into the chimera's wool and pet Shalbriri despite the threatening noises in the back of the sheep's throat.

Suddenly a thought struck him. He furrowed a slender brow and scanned the dark corners of the tree house, "Where's Poe?"

Usually, Poe was in the rafters, hiding behind cobwebs or playing in shadows, but this time around, the little ghost wasn't in his usual areas of haunting.

Pursing his cold grey lips, Eiry tapped a finger against his chin and continued his search.

"Shalbriri? Know you where Poe got off to?"

...crunch...crunch...crunch...

"No, he's not there. Just checked I did."

...crunch...crunch...

"You really think he did? Okay, I'll go check."

So, obviously, Shalbriri wasn't much of a conversationalist, but that didn't impede Eiry in the slightest from making the best of their friendship. Taking his chimera's unspoken advice, Eiry left the munching sheep with its oatmeal box and instead descended through the woodwork so he was floating underneath the great willow tree. With the knuckle of his forefinger still pressed to his lips in thought, Eiry squinted his red eyes in search of his missing ghostly companion. The mist of the morning still loitered around the marsh that surrounded the Delaran home and it didn't seem like an intolerant sun would be breaking through the layer of solid grey any time soon. Eiry didn't mind. He liked dreary weather.

Floating aimlessly towards the marsh he knew he wasn't allowed to enter without his guardian, Eiry almost didn't see the little tell-tale flit of a paranormal entity. It wobbled lazily near the edge of the lawn Isi worked so hard to keep nice. Except it wasn't Isi toiling with the lawnmower and hedge cutter anymore, it was Aphi; but even now they both worked to sow the seeds of buffalo grass so that would resolve their lawn-mowing responsibilities and save money on gas. The estate left in Isi's name had an acre of grass, area that required weekly attention that one Delaran was too weak to give and the other Delaran was too busy to serve. Although this meant that the grass had to die in order to make way for the Buffalo grass, Eiry found himself troubled. With all this dying bits of lawn around, he couldn't help but sneak a snack on a patch from time to time, thus hindering the Delaran's project from reaching completion.

Without so much as a warning whisper from his conscience, Eiry quietly supped from the grass underneath his floating form which immediately brightened to full freen and lush life. A satisfied smile bloomed on the frei's face and, content, he turned his attention on the nearby apparition still hovering indifferently above the marsh.

"Poe!" Eiry called, beckoning the spirit to him while stifling a burp that came with his instant digestion of verdure death.

The spirit didn't shift.

Furrowing a minty brow with one of his many flexible facial muscles, Eiry got the hint that this small body of ethereal mass wasn't the small body of ethereal mass that he was looking for. He tried again nonetheless.

"Poe! Brought you something, I did! Come!"

Still no response.

Knitting his brow further so that a crease settled upon his brow, his minty wings pushed him forward. Now that he was closer, he confirmed his suspicion that this was not the ghostly gift he had received last Halloween from Alex. It was, in fact, a lonely looking will o' the wisp. As soon as Eiry drew near enough to pose a threat, the soft glow turned hostile and it began to swarm around the frei's head like an angry hornet defending its nest. Eiry's first response was to throw his arms around his minty mane to protect himself and his second was to go intangible, which didn't help at all. His third response was to reason with the damn thing.

"Hey, hey!" the raevan shouted indignantly as he ducked the wisp's swoops and blows, "Hold up! What has your heart in trembled frenzy? This is the first we've met!"

Upon saying this, the oversensitive will-o-wisp called itself off the offensive. With a sullen attitude it slunk back to the same area where it had been standing guard previously and seemed to mope.

The crease on Eiry's brow grew deeper as the will-o-wisp retreated and he drifted towards it rather than away. Curiosity got the better of him. Like magnets with the same polar forces, as Eiry came closer the wisp retreated more and more towards the mush of the marshy ground. Relentless, Eiry pressed on, cooing under his breath. He had the impression that his show of defiance had scared off the little paranormal orb. What he didn't know was that it was trying to show him something.

Settling upon the mud of the marsh like a fallen leaf from a dying tree, the frail fool's fire let itself sink into the earth like a candle's flame into a pool of melted max. With a flutter of it's delicate wings, it buried itself into the mud and disappeared from sight.

"Oh no, little friend, no!" Eiry, with a gasp of shock, wasted no time in dropping to the mud with groping hands. his flimsy coil of ribbon dipped unceremoniously into the soupy marsh as he plunged his hands into the grime, but he didn't care. Boil and trouble was a part of Eiry's career of being a trickster.

Gripping piece after piece of marsh made mud pie, Eiry ripped apart the soggy earth, all the meanwhile hoping that the strange hob's lantern hadn't perished. When his fingers suddenly scraped against something that wasn't wet and squishy but hard and smooth, Eiry paused his frantic dig.

What was this...?

Wiggling his figners around the mysterious object and quickly forgetting his concern about the magically disappearing wisp, the frei fought to pull the object from the hungry maws of the swamp. It released with a sickening squelch and Eiry fell back on his non-existent rump underneath a small spray of mud.

Blinking his ruby eyes open, Eiry wiped his face with the back of his hand, making himself dirtier than cleaner, and peered curiously at the unearthed treasure. It was covered in mud and grime and it told Eiry nothing of the lost ignus faatus. Rubbing it with his thumb, he tried his best to clean off the object. It was made of glass, that much was certain. As the raevan wiped off more gunk and sludge, Eiry discovered it to be one of the many jars that Isi used to catch fireflies. It was a familiar object, something that made Eiry's chest swell with warmth at the thought of his guardian. Oh, how he loved Isikoro! Sure, he'd be happy and proud of Eiry to have a lost firefly jar back, Eiry was almost positive. But what was inside?

Deciding that his hands were not enough to clean the muddy jar, Eiry smeared it all over his front, hardly noticing as the cold mud of the jar seeped in through his clothing. As he shook it, he could feel something more and shift inside like olives in a jar that Eiry had once handed to Aphismet for dinner. The movement only made the frei's curiously peak. With most of the mud cleaned from its smooth contours, Eiry could finally peer into the jar and see what rattled inside.

What he saw didn't soothe his appetite for curiosity nor did it conform to his theory of olives.

It struck a deep resounding chord of unease and...terror.

Inside, devoid of its usual ghostly light, was a limp lithe form with small hands and tiny feet, delicate wings thinner than paper would ever hope to be. Wisps of unkempt pale hair covered its small head and minuscule mien, but that was fine with Eiry. He didn't want to see its death mask. Judging by its twisted form, its twin pairs of arms thrown over its head and twisted grotesquely behind its back, its curled up legs and limp lizard-like tail, all tucked into the bottom of the jar as if it were trying to be liquid.

What frightened him the most wasn't the fact that it was dead. To him, death was a staple food source, not something to be scared of. What terrified him was that this lifeless corpse...was familiar. Terribly familiar. It was a feeling that ripped through his half-formed chest like a clawed hand, reaching up and up and up through Eiry's throat to rake at his brain, trying to dislodge something that he should remember. Gritting his teeth, straining physically the frei stared unblinkingly at the well-reserved body, tracing the outline for some clue that would unlock this terrible feeling, tell what it was he felt and why. Strain lef to the increase in Eiry's breathing and a cold sweat prickled all over his skin, making his half-formed body tremble.

He wanted to let go of the smeared jar, look away from the foggy contents, but his fingers were as dead to him as the digits of the paranormal corpse inside. It was almost as if he had entered a terrible trance. Although his arms remained as rigid as tree branches, the glass jar seemed to come closer and closer and closer, taking over Eiry's focus until he began shaking so hard that the jar broke free of his terrified grasp and fell to the mud.

With a sharp cry, Eiry fell back onto the spongy grass of the dying lawn, staring at the jar while his ethereal wings spluttered behind him in a frantic flap. It made him queasy just to look at it, this familiar feeling that rocked his very being from its core.

If it was dead...Then what...?

The intuitive cogs in Eiry's mind sprung into action. The same mind that put together elaborate blueprints of complex tricks, complex devices, and analyzed the personalities around him, began working at a furious pace. Like a sunset, Eiry's face softened into terrified stupor when his mind stumbled upon the conclusion. Dead body, souls, raevans, labs, Isikoro...

Him.

End of Part I

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Whispers Through Wood

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. Left alone at home to his own devices, Rivener searches for his brother who is showing a very different side of his personality. Something is definitely wrong with his younger brother Eiry, but Whispers Through Wood won't be able to fix much. .

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Interrogation

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. As soon as Isikoro got home from his peaceful night out with Aphismet at the Crystal Carafe, he was immediately greeted by Rivener who had a worried face and creased brow. From what Isikoro could gather from the distraught raevan, there was something wrong with Eiry. Grumpily mumbling about never having a day's worth of peace, Isi hobbled through the old damp house, his sandals making soft scuffling noises as he swung himself from room to room. Rivener had said that he had found his younger brother near an air vent in the ground. Perhaps there was a chance that the youthful scoundrel would still be there.

Upon finding the metal air vent nestled tightly in the hardwood floor near the wall of the hallway near the stairs, Isi carefully lowered himself from his crutches and onto his knees. As soon as he was on his own knees, the boy placed his crutches against the wall and pressed his ear to the ground, absently reminding himself that he needed to sweep the floor. He stayed that way for a while, listening intently for some sign of his minty frei until, five minutes later, he heard a slight muffled sound like the sound of sniffling. Frowning his mouth tightly so that his freckled cheeks pinched up beneath his eyes, Isi leaned up and said loudly, "Eirdirsceol Etul Delaran, get out here right now."

But there was no sign.

Down in the dank basement where shadows reigned supreme in the secret floor without windows, Eiry sulked. He was lying against a few dust covered wooden crates that were so moldy that he could practically feed off them. He had his cheek lying against the wood instead of using his arm as a pillow since his arms were busy cradling his precious jar. Eiry glanced down along the length of his nose to the jar's plastic top, where four punctured holes released the soft hint of death. Eiry felt his own sorrowful frown deepen as he glanced at the haunting parcel, feeling the thoughts its appearance inspired fester in his mind and half-developed chest.

Then suddenly...A voice. Isikoro's voice.

Eiry glanced up to the web-covered ceiling with his reddened dry eyes, blinking through the darkness in the direction of his guardian's voice. There was a part of him that demanded he stay rooted to his crates, but there was another part of Eiry that dictated his response to his caretaker. Eventually, as he heard Isi's voice call out again, Eiry sighed and lifted himself up from the crates painfully slow.

with the slow beat of his wings of dim ethereal flame, Eiry floated up to the ceiling, dragging along his heavy glass jar. He pressed his face through the wooden floor boards and found Isi upon his knees, trying to pry open the metal air vent with his bare fingers.

Isi had almost gotten the metal air vent shifted enough to wiggle his thumbnails under when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the tell-tale minty mop of his raevan's head. "There you are, Eiry," he breathed in relief. At least his raevan was still able to move around. By the way Rivener had spoken, it sounded like Eiry might have the vitality of a vegetable. "What are you doing down there? What's with the frown, huh? Come on, speak up. I was expecting to have a bucket pail on my head and have my clothes drenched as soon as I walked in through the door. You're not mad at me for having a day out with Aphismet, are you?"

Eiry shook his head, staring with wide red eyes at his guardian. If only he knew...Death lingered over all of them and only Eiry now, could acknowledge that. He knew that even his precious Isi couldn't stay forever with a beating heart and pumping lungs. His precious vial proved it! Eiry had tried to bring back the little lifeless will-o-wisp, time after time, but unlike his dead plants, Eiry couldn't feed off of this one's death. There was no deliciousness, there was nothing to take back or to give. It was gone and only its ghostly nature kept it there.

Frowning at Isi and shaking his head, the turquoise frei threatened to sink lower in the ground.

All right, this was weird. Something was up with his frei. "Eiry," Isi said again, his voice becoming softer and more worried, "What's wrong, my crazy red-eyed ghost? What's bothering you?" He watched the will-o-wisp frei drift uneasily across the ground, his head half in and half out of the dusty floorboards. His eyes were so...So sad. They were scared. More scared than Isi had ever seen them including times when he was nearly throttled by Aphismet's possessed hands, even more so than when he was dying of poison. This wasn't a fear like that, Isi concluded, this was something else...A fear for himself.

But what could strike that kind of fear? It couldn't have been the harmless house ghosts. They have always gotten along well with Eiry, even to the point of being friends. Eiry would converse with them, give them attention, and include them on his playful secrets. This went as well for all the little critters that Eiry had been stock piling into a caravan of pets. Shalbriri was a jerk, Isi knew that, but for some reason, he was tolerant of Eiry and they got along fine. BeauBeau didn't believe in the word "angry" and Poe the little ghostling thing that had been following Eiry around since Halloween had the same demeanor as Eiry, playful and secretive. Obviously, what ever had happened didn't concern his big brother Rivener since Riv was the one who came to Isi first about Eiry's sudden change in attitude. Who could it have been? What could it have been? And why?

"Come on, Eiry," Isi cooed again, reaching out with a hand for his ward. He frowned when the frei flitted away from him, "What is it? It's not Edgar, right? We got rid of him, he's not coming back. What's bothering you, Eiry?"

If only it was Edgar, Eiry thought helplessly, things would be a lot easier to handle, a lot easier to discuss. Unfortunately that wasn't the case.

The minty frei knew, with a heavy heart, that he had promised his big brother that he'd talk with Isikoro. As it turned out, the longer he glanced at Isi's worried face, the harder it became to keep that promise. He was so worried, and Eiry knew that even sharing a couple words with Isi, letting him in on his dreadful secret would do no help at all. What could words say to make Eiry feel better about his precious glass cargo and what it meant? Its implications were too heavy for mere words to soothe or reassure. There was nothing Isi could do, and Eiry was sure of that.

Stretching his mouth into a tight frown, the minty frei let his pointed ears sink from either side of his head. He could at least keep the promise to Rivener, even if it meant that he wouldn't talk like his big brother hoped he would. He opened his mouth slightly and took a couple tries at choking out the words:

"Death...Do not want, I don't."

Isikoro furrowed his thick brows at his raevan as those few words took their toll on his heart. Doesn't want death? What could have brought these thoughts into his frei's mind, Isi wondered. There was a part of him that was amazed with Eiry, a small part that wanted to nervously chuckle, but Isi swallowed it down. He felt his chest clench up and he inched himself forward a bit on the hardwood, "Eirdirsceol," he said with a sigh, "Whatever you're thinking, death is a long way away from you, for all of us! We're still all very young and you most of all. You have just started life, Eiry, you don't have anything to worry about. You've got me, your big brother Rivener, and good Aphismet to protect you in the meanwhile. That's why I'm here, Eiry, I'm here to protect you, to help you grow, and do anything I can to ease your path through life. I won't let death get you. Not so soon." Isi watched the effects of his words on the frei. Eiry was drifting upwards ever so slightly, high enough so his chin could be seen. The poor thing hadn't eaten in a while, Isi could tell by the paleness of his frei's face. Then, Eiry lifted up high enough out of the ground to reveal his arms and a precious strangely familiar parcel hugged tightly in his arms. Isi squinted his eyes at it, suddenly dreading what lay within and he gasped.

It was the will-o-wisp corpse. When Old Maasi had caught it a few years ago, Isi had buried the corpse in the swamp when the soul bottle was accidentally filled. He gave it back to the earth it called home and now, here it was again, a terrifying ghost of the past.

"Where did you find that?" Isi asked, a little more sharply than he intended and he watched as Eiry startled away and sunk back into the ground. Isi bit his lip, mentally kicking himself for scaring his ward away when he had gotten him to come out of the ground. Now he knew what was plaguing his ward's mind, at least to some extent. How frightening it must've been to find something that you had been once before. Isi wasn't sure how Eiry knew, but it was something he couldn't hide anymore. He had never planned to tell Eiry where he had come from, what he was made of, but now it seemed he was dealing with the repercussions of that choice. Guilt settled in Isi's stomach.

With a gulp, Isi tried again, "Death IS something to be scared of, Eiry. Honestly, you have all the right, but you shouldn't let it consume you like this. Death is eventual, we all have a death to pay in return for life, but you have to make life worth the death! Do you understand, Eiry?"

But Eiry didn't understand. He thought that Isi didn't understand! Death was the end of something, the end of life, and while Eiry, for the longest time, thought that he had some kind of control over this happening, control over death itself, it was frightening to him to face something so final that he couldn't have control over. Especially something that could happen to him, to anyone, to anything!

Sinking lower into the ground, Eiry watched as Isi tried to beg him out of the ground, sadly tilting his head where he sat on his knees. Eiry shook his head and he sunk back into the ground, his heart heavy. His guardian's words didn't help at all, but at least he had kept his promise with Rivener. The minty frei floated all the way back down into the basement, not caring that Isi's cries were still trying to beckon him back to the surface. He settled like an autumn leaf upon his wooden crates and coiled his ribbon beneath him as he hugged his jar tight and hugged himself tighter.

He didn't realize that his chosen place of sanctuary could have very well been a tomb.

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