Crossing the Threshold (Luther)

[Qit'ria]

Cylus 29th, 719

Qit'ria was moving through the streets of Rharne, getting a wide berth by the other people around. After all, most people knew about ghosts, but had never seen one before now. But Qit'ria didn't care. As far as she was concerned, she was still just another person, carrying her baby in her arms. Qit'ria was transparent under the Cylus moons, her baby looking like a demon with her black skin, crimson eyes, and poofball hat.

Qit had only recently started traveling into town, if only to give Caza more experience in the world. She was around 300 trials old at this point, her babbles were becoming words, she was crawling around with vigor, sleeping more normal hours, and being introduced to normal foods. If Caza was perturbed by her mother being a ghost, it was not obvious. Qit looked over her shoulder at the Lightning Knight that was not so subtly following her around. She smiled at him, and waved a little, just as Faith would do. She knew she made people nervous. She didn't care.

But she behaved, for she was not comfortable enough in her ghostliness to be able to defend herself, and her child, if needed. So she didn't try to ditch the guard. She moved through the streets, not yet knowing the geography of the city. Eventually she wandered into the Earth Quarter, and found herself staring into the dusty window of an old shop. She reached out and touched the glass, "Glass." She touched Caza's hand to the window, and held the girl up as she smacked against it, and at one point licked it. Qit'ria made sure to say all things to Caza in both Xanthean and Common, so the girl would learn both languages.

Qit'ria leaned against the glass, wondering if ghosts could really move through things while in the mortal world. She hadn't figured it out yet. She pushed against it firmly, but it didn't budge. The guard watched her curiously. Caza growled in play, pushing against the window as well. Qit'ria tried more and more but nothing was happening. Frowning, Qit smacked the window, turning away from it, leaning back against it. She looked at the guard and glared at him. Caza roared like a lion cub at him, waving her arms about.

Why couldn't she move through walls? Couldn't ghosts do that. It was like the barriers of her judgement all over again. She tapped her head against the glass. She remembered that trapped feeling, how she wanted nothing more than to be free. It was terrifying. Qit'ria hated cages, she needed to be free, always. She wanted to run, to be untethered. She tapped her head back again, only to find it slid backwards through the glass. Qit'ria was startled by this, caught off guard. Her concentration broken, she was now stuck. Her head bent backwards, looking into the dark and dusty clothes shop, seemingly run down, her body and child on the other side of the glass. She was certainly stuck.

And the guard outside was only laughing, moving closer, in case the baby were dropped.

[Luther]

Soft as a whisper, Luther kept his step quiet as he drifted through the empty store. Thin lines of smoke trailed the Echo as he curiously and cautiously surveyed this new and foreign surrounding, almost creating an after-image of his idle movements. He didn't know how long he had been in the Beneath, wandering in that barren ghostland for what could have been trials or for what could have been arcs. All he knew was that wherever he found himself now, he had no idea how he or his grandfather's coat ended up here.

And how dreary 'here' was. Luther wasn't sure which was more depressing, the shadowy melancholy of the Beneath or the ragged standing of the struggling clothier which owned this shop. He had only been in the mortal world for a few trials, and only just recovered enough from the Traverse to feel strong enough to risk exposing himself, but even he could see that poverty had struck this business. A fine layer of dust and dirt covered the ground, the clothes presented on display second-hand at best, and in the brief time Luther had been here he hadn't seen a soul enter the shop. The only item which stood out from the threadbare and moth-eaten items in this shop proved to be one owned by Luther, not the clothier. The royal blue of his grandfather's military longcoat, still bearing the rank and the insignia of the Eternal Empire on its arm, remained pristine despite whatever time had passed since Luther's death. It stood in the window of the shop, looking as out-of-place as a noble would among commoners.

Trailing a phantom finger across the gold trim of the coat, Luther shuddered as memories, irrational and emotional flooded his being. Nights sneaking into his grandfather's room to try on the longcoat and trials under the hot Saun sun playing pretend soldier with his older brothers. Wearing it to a village dance and stealing a kiss with its familiar weight on his shoulders. Placing a hand on his Anchor, Luther could feel himself be restored by the item. The feeling of humanity it brought was almost worth the pain it caused.

The sudden appearance of a head through the shop's window shook Luther from the fragments of his memories, an unfamiliar ghostly visage with startled, wild eyes suddenly staring into the shop. Another Echo? It had been some time since Luther had seen another of his kind, and she had been the first he had seen in this strange city at all. She seemed to be cradling some sort of child, though with its ebony skin and scarlet stare it looked more like a demon than a babe. What manner of ghost carried child in the open streets? Did she know where she was, or was she lost like he was? Could she help him? Did she need him to help her?

Curiosity overwhelming caution, Luther climbed around his coat's display and approached the caught head of the women. Crouching so that his head was closer to her level, he met her surprised gaze with an amused expression on his face.

"Hi there, name's Luther," he smiled pleasantly, smoke wisping out of his mouth as he spoke. "Do you need some help? I'm, well, like you, and I know better than most how hard getting a handle on undeath can be." He paused to examine her situation further. It looked like she tried to phase through the glass, but lost focus halfway through. She was lucky it was only glass, Luther figured if it was anything thicker than the stranger would be shedding a lot of ectoplasm just trying to get out. He looked of the window and saw the figure of a guard standing off to the side, laughing. The guard's presence set Luther's hackles up, and he couldn't help but feel a flash of anger towards the man. He wasn't surprised the man was laughing instead of helping. Luther knew firsthand how often the 'protectors' of any city failed in their duty.

Pushing the anger out of his head, Luther turned his attention back to the woman. "That guard is an asshole, but if you wanna get out so you can give him a piece of your mind, you're gonna have to ignore him. Conveying requires concentration, and if you lose that, well then I guess you'll be keeping me company for a while," he joked, hoping that a bit of huor would make the stranger put the guard out of her head long enough to recover her focus.

[Qit'ria]

Date

Qit'ria hadn't been expecting a face to come into her field of vision. She hadn't heard his approach, hadn't smelled him. She was still getting used to her senses not being as reliable in death as they'd been in life. She quickly began trying to yank through, the mortal glass starting to shave off ectoplasm in small, smoky wisps. She was trying to not panic, so she closed her eyes and shook her head at the fellow ghost.

This was her first time meeting a ghost as one. Prior to that, she'd met the ghost pirates in Scalvoris, and that hadn't ended well for her. But Qit'ria had little experience with ghosts. This one seemed to be friendly. He had offered to help. Caza was wriggling in Qit's arms, growling at the guard then giggling. She heard the man's advice. Concentration. Concentration. Ignore the man outside laughing at her baby. Her baby. HER BABY. Her face scrunched up in anger, and the death wound in her chest appeared.

How dare he! She came back to life to protect and raise this baby, to be a great mother! She was family and she had done horrible things for family. And she would do anything for them. She'd killed for family. She'd died for family. She'd become a ghost for family. This guard couldn't understand. But she'd make him.

She did as her new ghost friend suggested, she tried to calm, to clear her mind. Sev'ryn meditate, and she had done it often in life. It came with being a becomer and friend of spirits. She closed her eyes, and took deep breaths. Or rather, she mimicked the motion, since ghosts had no need for breathing. She relaxed. She remembered being in the Desnind forest, there with her friend, the spirit of the whole forest. They had protected it, healed it. Restored its beauty. As she calmed, she willed herself back through the window.

She opened her eyes, glaring at the guard now. Qit dug deep and did what she always did. She unleashed a bear's roar at the man. Much to her own surprise, as she did it, her head changed to that of a bear's and the sound roared true, echoing through the street. Her head changed back as she finished and the guard had fallen backwards in surprise, his eyes wide. "Puh-puh-puhlease. D-d-don't hurt me. I'm sorry I laughed. I'm an idiot."

Qit stepped over him, her glare piercing still. She pointed at the shop. "Open door." The man looked over at the shop's door, then back to her confused. "NOW!" People in the area were either staring or running away from the angry ghost and demon baby. The man, his face completely paled nodded, standing up, walking over to the shop door. He tried the knob, finding it unlocked. It swung open noisily. "In."

The young man, barely into adulthood began to cry quietly as he walked into the shop. Qit'ria followed, nuzzling the top of Caza's head. She looked over at Luther, "Much thanks. First time move in stuff." Qit'ria moved to shut the door, finding her flimsy essence not strong enough to do it. She growled loudly in annoyance, finding her ectoplasm stiffening as she slammed the door shut harder than she meant to, rattling the store. "Well meet Luther. I Qit'ria." She then held up her baby, "Caz'aria."

"I no meet other ghost. Why you look campfire at sunrise? Can ghost be burn?"

The guard just sobbed and Qit shot him a glare, silencing him after a small whimper.

[Luther]

Luther took a cautious step back from the woman, her expression growing dark and dangerous as she tried to force her head back through the window she was stuck in. Strands of ectoplasm tore off of the women from her struggle against the window. He could tell that the guard was still getting to her, his cruel laughter stoking the flame of the woman's apparent anger. With a subtle shift of his hand, the ghost summoned a Tendril and curled it around his wrist like a bracer. He didn't suspect that the woman would take any drastic action with a newborn in her arms, but Luther had learned in death that to blindly trust was to court Vri's hand.

The Tendril tightened around his wrist as the image of a bloody gash carved itself into existence down the stranger's chest. This was escalating too quickly, and if the women didn't check her anger Luther was worried he would have to step in. If only that guard would shut his damn mouth! Shouldn't he have been helping the woman instead at laughing at her expense? The cinders of flame which clung to him brightened as his anger did, and for a moment Luther's grip on his emotions slipped. Coal-black smoke whipped around him in irritation, and for a moment he considered Conveying out of the window himself in order to address the soldier. How typical for those with authority to fail to use it justly? Luther began to step forward, only to stop himself at the sight of the stranger removing her head from the shop's window.

She roared, and even from inside the shop the Echo found himself stumbling backward at the sheer force of the sound. More surprising, however, was the fact that her head shifted into that of a bear: which, even by Luther's recently adjusted standards of strange, caught both the man and himself completely off-guard. The man went stumbling back, and from what Luther could see this stranger was on a warpath to make sure that he understood the full inequity of his actions. Crowds of people fled from the wild woman, and Luther couldn't smother the shocked smirk that appeared on his face as the guard began to grovel at the stranger's feet.

Again, this woman surprised him, ordering the guard to open the door that led the shop instead taking her anger out on the man. Both the man and the woman, still cradling the now laughing baby, stepped into what Luther had called a home for a few trials. Eyes darting nervously to his longcoat and back to the ghost, Luther took quiet and precise steps to block the sight of it from both of the strangers. He still didn't know what type of ghost this woman was, and their presence near his exposed Anchor was enough to put him in a cautious mood.

"Course, still getting the hang of things myself. Wouldn't be right to just leave you in there, now would it?" he replied, surprised at the woman's broken common and flinching slightly at the sound of the slammed door. Whoever she was, subtlety didn't seem to be her specialty. Smiling at the introductions, Luther gave slight and separate bows to both the women and her babe. "A pleasure to meet both of y'all."

His smile faded slightly at her question. "Well, that's a rather unpleasant story. Fire was involved in my, uh, passing. Sorry, still not used to saying that. Ever since I wound up here, I can't seem to shake the cinders or the smoke," Luther paused a moment, his eyes dropping as he remembered the feeling of his smoke filling his lungs as his throat seared shut. Despite the time since his death, the topic was still too raw for the Echo. Running phantom fingers through his faded hair, Luther let the memory pass as quickly as it came. "As for your other question, I'm not entirely sure. Like I said, I'm still new at this whole 'undeath' thing so I suppose ghosts could very well burn if someone was determined enough to try. Truth be told you're the only ghost I've met since I got here." Eyes shining with realization, Luther laughed a little as he realized his circumstances. Despite being in the shop for trials, the ghost still had no clue as to what city he found himself in. "Speaking of, would you mind telling me exactly where 'here' is? I'm not able to wander far from the shop, but whatever this place is it doesn't look like any part of the Empire that I know."

Looking down at the child in Qit'ria's arms, all ebony skin and red eyes, Luther found himself growing curious about their relationship to each other. "That kid, she's yours right? Cant say I see the resemblance, but by Raskalarn I can't exactly talk about appearances with all the ash and embers I'm covered in, now can I?" He paused, letting the question sit a little before pressing onward. He might've been crossing a line, but Luther felt exposed with two strangers standing feet away to his only tether to the living world. "She's your Anchor, innit she?"

[Qit'ria]

Date

Qit nodded as she listened to the man. She he'd burned in a fire, and somehow, brought that fire with him into ghosthood. Qit still couldn't seem to remember how she'd died. She remembered her arm being ripped off, but beyond that, it was all so... fuzzy. And then she was in judgment. She hadn't noticed anything strange about herself, nothing like this guy's... burningness.

She was the first ghost he'd met and vice versa, and neither of them really knew how to be ghosts. It was funny. In life, she never really figured that ghosts would have to work at it. She just assumed they could do whatever they wanted. When he asked her for details of where he was, she was happy to oblige. He was.. nice. He'd helped her.

"This city on big mountain. Next to big lake. City called 'Rawrne'."

She was pleased with herself. She may not know what the word empire meant but her Common was improving. At least on the hearing end. She saw him look down at Caza, and then heard his words. Couldn't see the resemblance? Can't talk?! What was he saying? That Caz'aria didn't look like her?! Was he blind?

Then he pointed Caza out as one of her anchors, and she became extremely defensive. He was trying to take her! He wanted her to forget Caza, just like she forgot how she'd died. That was why he accused her of not looking like her. This was her baby. HER baby. He couldn't have her! Qit's head transformed back into the bear's head and she roared loudly, shaking the building. The glass front shattered.

She was glaring at the ghost, "YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!"

Someone upstairs started crying. Qit didn't realize but outside the shop, a cadre of guards were forming, keeping civilians back. Someone had put out a call to go find Faith. She was well known in dealing with such matters. Their job was to contain and protect the populace. The young lightning knight that Qit had taken hostage was curled up in a ball, crying into his knees.

"SHE'S MINE! I BIRTHED HER! MINE!"

Caza was crying now, clinging to her mother, who was holding her defensively away from this baby stealer.

[Luther]

Shit. Sarding son of a bitch. If there was a line, Luther might as well have crossed it back Korlasir. By Raskalarn’s heaving left tit he was an idiot. Just because he felt threatened by another ghost so close to his anchor, he had to make some thrice-damned joke about her child. Not just her child, but her sarding Anchor. Now because of his sharp-tongue he had incited the woman so much that she was spiraling into an anger that made the shop quiver and shake.

He had to keep a cool head. No matter how tempting it was to match Qit’ria’s wrath with his own, Luther could not allow himself to rise to her. The only outcome that would wrought would be more anguish for everyone involved.

Then, the room exploded in sound and fury.

A horrifying roar filled the air and the glass screamed in response. Shards of silver-white flew from the window, spraying the shop with razored shrapnel. He could hear the guard sob in terror, he could see Qit’s head shift into the frothing maw of a bear, and he knew that the growing crowd around the shop could only spell danger for the pair of ghosts.

None of that mattered now. The only things that mattered were the shards of glass that now embedded itself in his grandfather’s longcoat. His Anchor.

Smoke, black and acrid, billowed out of Luther’s open mouth. The cinders which circled his spectral form burned brighter and fiercer than ever. Wood cracked like bone under his feet as flames seared his footprints into the floor, and whatever Qit had roared fell on deaf, dead ears.

Turning to face Qit’tria, Luther slowly raised his arm from his sides. The coat flew from its display, wrapping around his phantom form in one smooth motion. Wrath, raw and irrational, surged through his veins like flame as he was hit with a wave of living memories. How dare this stranger attack his Anchor after he had helped her?! She was ungrateful. She was unworthy. She was unwelcome.

“Leave!” Luther ordered, his voice dark as the smoke which coiled around his body. Forcing the Tendril wrapped around his arm to shoot out and grab a large shard of glass, Luther summoned he broken bit of window back to him. Floating knife-like in front of him, he took one step towards Qit’tria. “Now!”

[Faith Augustin]

It had been a jumbled message she got, but it had just enough information that Faith had something of an inkling that Qit'ria was involved. To be frank, she'd have assumed it anyhow, and whether Qit was part of this or not, she would still have been running through the streets, white cloak stark in the darkness of Cylus as she made her way as quickly as she could. There had been a part of her which had wanted to ask Qit not to go out with Caza. It was not something destined to be a quiet affair, after all; but she was the babe's mother and both of them were in need of spending time with each other. Besides, Faith made a point of not getting in between a mother and her child unless she had to ~ being a mother herself, she knew just how bad an idea that was.

Skidding to a halt in front of the shop with the shattered window, she quickly came to the conclusion that not everyone was aware of that fact.

"Keep everyone back," she said to the Lightning Knight who had found her. The young woman stepped forward and walked, calmly, into the shop. It struck her as odd that the bell above the door tinkled as she did. It sounded, clear and melodic and tinkling into the dark of Cylus. Faith glanced around the room once, her eyes taking in what was happening here and she bit back a sigh. There was Qit, bear-head and fury, and another Echo wearing a coat which was his Anchor. He was levitating a piece of glass and the energies whipped around this place.

"Leave," she said, to the Lightning Knight who was cowering against the wall. He started to answer and the short human woman glanced at him with deep glowing red eyes. "I said, leave. Please. I have work to do." That was enough for the already spooked Lightning Knight and he ran out of the door, which left Faith with the two ghosts and the baby. The woman who walked into the shop was tiny of height and stature, standing at five foot two, with an incredibly small frame. Yet, she looked confident. She wore a white, hooded cloak, although the hood was down revealing her jet-black hair and pale skin. Her eyes were glowing a deep ruby, and she stepped, calmly, between the two of them.

"Enough of this. Both of you." Faith spoke calmly. She looked at Qit and Luther, obviously seeking them both and she kept her gaze level and her voice soft. "Look at the damage. And with a baby here. " That was again, to both of them. Luther looked, there was no doubt, terrifying, but Faith did not seem at all concerned. "My name is Faith. This is Qit'ria and Caza is the baby. They are my family." Glancing at the coat, where glass had cut it, Faith's ruby eyes turned to Luther and she spoke only to him. "That coat is your anchor. Would you like me to repair it?" She gave a slight smile, gesturing to the glass shard. "I'm happy to do so. But there is no need for violence."

[Qit'ria]

Date

Qit's snarling eyes glared at this baby thief, watching smoke spew from his mouth, but finding no reason to be concerned by it. Pure, defensive rage had taken a deep hold over the woman. Then she saw the floating embers, she saw his feet burning the floor. He was one of those mages, just like that man who had set her beloved forest on fire back in Scalvoris. Fire mages are always bad. She'd have to kill him.

She watched him summon a really ugly jacket and it wrapped itself up around him. Hideous thing, filled with glass shards. Could never hide in a forest with that. She heard his command, but her eyes were on the glass shard that floated between her and him. Her bear scowl only deepened. Glass couldn't hurt a ghost, she was sure of it. He didn't want to steal Caza. He wanted to kill her!

Qit'ria reached out for a piece of glass as well, focusing all of her rage into grasping it. She was shocked, inwardly, to see a tentacle extending out of her chest, and grasped the shard. She didn't know she could do that. If she had one of these tentacles, was his glass wielded in the same way? Qit didn't bring her shard forward, but rather, reached it back far. Her strength wasn't in stabbing.

It was in throwing.

She twisted the tendril and prepared to side arm sling the glass just below and behind the glass the other ghost wielded, assuming it would cut through his own tendril. Then the door's bell tinkled, and it broke Qit's concentration, and her tendril faded, her glass dropped to the ground. Qit's bearhead turned toward the sound, still seething in rage.

Faith.

Instantly Qit'ria calmed. Faith was here. Everything was okay. Faith wouldn't let Caza get hurt. Qit'ria didn't even notice as the Lightning Knight fled, her eyes held upon Faith's powerful presence. In life, Qit had always known of Faith's ability to hold attention, to command it. But now in death, it seemed to have magnified tenfold. And when Faith had said it was enough, it was true, for Qit at least.

Qit looked down at the child she was holding, the child that was crying. Qit'ria hadn't even noticed during the spat. She dropped to her knees, holding Caza close, cooing and rocking her. In her native Xanthean, "Mama's sorry little Blackbird. It will be okay. Mama got scared." Qit'ria continued to soothe the girl until she settled into a soft chortle, nuzzling against her mother.

Qit'ria looked up now, seeing Faith talking to Luther. Shame washed over her, radiated from her. She'd lost her head. She'd put Caza in danger, upset the little one. She'd caused a problem for Faith, again. Her head hung low now, the air growing colder around her. She glanced up at the mention of the coat, the anchor. The glass that was in it. That wasn't supposed to be there. She'd caused that.

She'd been so worried that he would damage Caza, her anchor, that she'd not noticed, nor cared that she'd damaged his. It was unforgivable. He was an innocent. Another innocent she'd hurt. Just like that little girl in Rynmere. Just like so many in that city. Shame piled on, and the room grew colder still. She stood up, shoulders slumped.

In Common, "Faith much good cloth maker. Much gooder friend." There was an unspoken 'than me' in there. "I sorry for hurting you coat. I... I lose head." Shining tears of her ectoplasm glowed their way down her face. Qit'ria was not good at apologies, and this had been one of the best she'd ever given.

Qit'ria turned, looking out the damaged window, seeing all the scared and angry faces out there. Just like Rynmere. Except this time, it was her fault. She turned to Faith, "I sorry... Sister."

[Luther]

Teeth bared back in a snarl, Luther could feel the billowing black smoke pour from his form as his anger only grew. How dare this ghost bring a child into his domain? How dare she damage the only remnant of his life, of his family? How dare she raise a weapon against him when he only wanted her to leave?! If she would just leave him alone, stop hurting him, everything would be fine!

But she would leave. Not without force. Luther pulled the shard of glass back like a viper ready to strike. This Qit and the guards all around her, they all saw a monster in him. That was fine. He would be their monster. He would cut down everyone of them if it meant he could finally have some peace.

All it took was the chime of a shop-bell to change the course of that trial.

A woman, small in stature but large in presence, entered the store with little resistance. She was...different than the other living souls that populated the city. She radiated a type of power that drew Luther's attention to her like a moth to a flame. And those eyes, those blood red eyes, they demanded obedience in the most familiar way. When the Echo looked at Faith, it was almost like he was looking at two people. The mortal, and then the radiance which supported her.

At her word, Qit dropped her weapon. So they knew of each other, at least enough for one to command respect of the other. As she spoke, Luther looked towards the bawling babe which the other spectre was now attempting to calm. How could he have done this, lost control so quickly to not see how he was affecting a child? A family? These three women, they were all family to each other, and in an instant of anger Luther had almost damaged that. With a careful clatter, he let the shard of glass fall from his tendril.

The smoke and cinder that wrapped around his form lightened and vanished into the air as Luther listened to Faith's words. She was right, to an extent, there was no need for violence. This was not who he was. Undeath was changing him in the worst ways imaginable.

Qit approached next, and the Echo took a reflexive step back from the mother. Faith may have vouched for her as family, but he still didn't trust her. Nor Faith, for that matter. While he felt shame for threatening their family, that shame did not translate into any feelings of warmth towards either of the women. He listened carefully to Qit's apology, noting how genuine it was. It appeared she felt as horrible as he did for hurting him as he felt for threatening her.

"S'all right," he nodded, his voice a quiet ember of what it had been moments ago. "Lost my head too. Can't believe I threatened you and your kid like that. That was real low of me, and I'm sorry." Luther took another step back from the two women, still too frightened and suspicious to remain close to them.

"Please...I don't..." he started shakily. He wanted to trust them, he really did. But he just couldn't. He couldn't let himself get close to anyone, not after the way he died. Not after the way he had been treating the living as of late. "Please just leave me alone. I just...I just want to be alone." In that moment, Luther as small as a man could. He didn't want to hurt anyone else, and didn't trust anyone not to hurt him.

If no one stopped him, the ghost would step through the fractured window and out into Rharne. Most of the crowd parted as he approached, afraid of what spectre like him could do mere mortals like them. They looked at him like Qit did in that moment when he raised a weapon against her and her child. Like a monster.

And maybe they were right to do so.

[Faith Augustin]

As a mother, Faith had a "tone", but she knew that she used it very rarely - neither her nor Padraig were prone towards being disciplinarians, it had to be said. They neither of them found it important to be so, either. Still, there was a tone of voice which seemed to be born at the same time as the twins and Faith had used it upon entry to this abandoned shop. However, she didn't need to continue to do so as Qit'ria calmed down immediately. The temperature dropped though as Qit then started to obviously feel bad about herself and what had happened and Faith shook her head. "No. No need to be sorry. You're new at this, it's frightening. It causes many big nerves." Faith looked at Qit'ria and smiled. "No need for sorry, Sister mine."

And then, the other ghost spoke, and Faith looked at him. "I understand," she said softly. "But alone is not a good place to be. I can help you, if you'll let me. I am in the Order of the Adunih. If you want to come thee, my name is Faith." She looked at him with a calm and hopefully soothing expression. "You need to remember who you are. Notice what I said there. Who you are, because you are still that person. Your soul, the essence of you. If you forget that person, you run the risk of becoming empty. Of forgetting who you are. Please," Faith said, and she was imploring him. "Please, don't be alone."

But, she did not move to stop him. Faith was Famula's servant and, more than anything, Famula stood for choices made. To stay or leave was Luther's choice and - come to that - to remember himself always. "The Order of the Adunih. Please. I will help you. I want to help you." But he had gone and, Faith turned to Qit'ria. "Qit. Qit, it's alright. I promise you." She kept herself calm. "You feel everything you did, before. Just protecting Caza. You were just protecting our little bird. If that happens again, learn to control it. You can." She smiled at Qit.

"But, right now, let's go home?"