Path of the Necromancer - FACTION WARS

Chapter 3.4 - Ian

Ian unlocked and opened his apartment door and felt an odd sense of homeliness and welcoming brush against him. Dani, surfing the internet on the couch, greeted them with a smile Ian couldn't discern. At the breakfast table sat a white haired beauty that stared upon him with wonder in her solid obsidian eyes. Grim and Scraps were on the balcony fiddling with a new grill they'd bought, though their arguing was indicative of little progress.

Dani pointed to the guest bedroom. "The Banshee is still sleeping soundly," She told them in a quiet voice. They had ordered a bed for Dani when it became obvious she had nowhere else to go.

"Lily?" He asked rhetorically.

She nodded. "Said she'd be out 'till morning."

"Sorry to have you sleeping on the couch again," Ian apologised. "We might need a bigger apartment soon." Considering how hard he'd busted his hump for the Sponsors - those mythical nebulous entities - he felt he was owed that much.

Ember let loose her musical laughter, "No way. We just need to get a bigger bed."

Dani's pale cheeks flushed, "Don't worry about it." She offered in a dry rush. "The couch feels great and I'm thankful for you guys putting me up." In a flash she'd regained her seat and was studiously ignoring everything outside of the laptops screen.

With that he allowed his perceptions to absorb the ethereal beauty patiently waiting at the table. Her own attentiveness never wavered, as if afraid to blink. Sharpened breathing, a stillness as her eyes followed his movements - admittedly he couldn't actually see where her gaze landed, but he sure felt it examining him - combined with her straightening posture and it became somewhat obvious she was barely containing her nervous excitement.

"I still can't believe I'm really alive," She murmured as he sat across from her. She cracked a tremulous smile. "Or that I can finally have a conversation with you,"

Compared to Cassandra's haunting callousness, this girl's timbre was calm, almost breathy. It held a youthful note to it that aided in cultivating her ephemeral aura.

"Well," He offered with a soft smile of his own, "Technically you're not really alive."

Slender fingers waved the apology off. "I can feel again," She whispered, twirling a lock of hair while sliding her hand over the table's cool granite surface. "You've no idea how excruciating it's been to exist without that simple pleasure. I don't think I could have retained my sanity if not for you. The fact that my flesh is preserved through our shared bond is of no consequence to me." Her head tilted down, gaze following the meanderings of the stone. "Still being able to interact with the dead through the Spirit Magic you gifted me with is also something I'll cherish." Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear she forced her chin up. "I suppose you have no idea who I am."

"That night your sister died," Wincing as his expression changed, "I was the beast's first victim..." Tears pooled as the memory of her death hit her in painful detail. That moment held vague and indistinct to her Phantasmal form, relived anew through gifted flesh. The crunch of snow as her body...

Ian was saved from choosing between his warring impulses when the woman shook her scrunched features, breaking away from whatever devils haunted her. He knew she had to work through this in her own time.

"I'd just turned twenty, I moved up here for college from California. My first year was useless. No friends, I was barely keeping up with classes and the one person I believed would stay with me turned out to be a cheating bastard. I was trapped and I just needed to get away. One day I just thought, screw it. Why not? I'd gotten sick of going to movies and parties by myself and getting weird looks. I just wanted to go someplace alone where I wouldn't be judged; where I could be free." She choked out a laugh. "Just my luck that the first time I went hiking I got attacked by a Werewolf."