-1-
The rustle of the leaves as Emma opened the intricately decorated door filled the space while the blonde let the woven details of the surface bit into her palms, her arms pushing the double doors open until she was able to peer inside. The walls and floors were covered in the same vines and cracks that had welcomed her the very same moment she had stepped outside her little car, the smell of stagnant water and thick sheet of dust making her gag as the grey light that filtered through the broken windows cut the air in pale beams that only highlighted the emptiness of the blackened walls in where the absence of any tapestry felt more apparent as the blonde took a step away from the almost moth-eaten rug that had muffled her steps until now.
Dragging a shaky breath and nodding to herself as she saw the puff of air raising for a second before disappearing into one of the beams of light, the blonde grasped her necklace tightly, trying to see anything -from elusive shadows to vague footprints, into the room that, taking into accord its size and placement, could have only been the throne room. The very same center of the room felt bare, devoid of something as if a throne had once stood on it. Instead, jarred pieces of rubble covered that part of the floor alongside with leaves and water that had found their way through the broken windows. Windows, she realized with a start, that couldn't have been directed to anywhere since the façade of the building had been covered with dark -yet still complete and unbroken- windows.
Walking inside, the blonde crouched just a few feet away from the door, brushing her fingers against the dust covered floor, the itch of the dust settling on the back of her throat as she waited for anything to react to her intrusion. Nothing, however, from glyphs or voices, could be heard on the room and so she rose, narrowing her eyes while waiting for any shadow or presence to reach from between the grey-hued beams.
The only thing that stood, she soon realized, was the red and black painting that had once upon a time had hung from one of the now bare walls and which now waited in one corner. Almost completely hidden the painting was half broken and almost disintegrated under her probing fingers when she touched the crackled surface. Her breath got caught on the back of her throat as she found herself staring directly to a set of brown eyes, mostly disappeared by time yet almost gleaming with life as she took on the shadow of a face that seemed almost to smirk at her; the shade of old blood stained her fingers as she took a step behind, the pigments, despite the time, still seeming to take a hold on her skin.
That was the moment she felt a hand on her shoulder, a whisper on her ear.
"Was that you?" The question fell flat as she knew the answer already, her voice getting caught in the tall ceiling in where the stone work got lost among the dark shadows that seemed to be growing around her, the sound of the rustling leaves being quickly replaced by the sound of footsteps and the rustle of fabric against stone.
Heart beginning to quicken, the scent around her turning from dusty to ozone-filled, Emma turned, narrowing her eyes at the presence she could feel tickling the protective guards she always had on her body.
"Hello?" She asked, her voice raising, echoing. No one answered her but she knew she had overstayed.
-.-
"And so, you left." Ruby was leaning on the doorframe, eyes glinting and red nails drumming against her own forearms, arm-crossed as she was. Her waitress uniform still on and wrinkled, her posture slightly slouched from the perfect posture Emma had seen on her the day before, when she had arrived with only a letter from Rumple Gold and the prospect of a job dangling from her lips.
Sighing and rubbing her eyes Emma took off her necklace, the swan motif cold on her fingers as she inspected it, shrugging before glancing at the tall brunette.
"She didn't want to talk… or communicate in any other way."
"That's the way it usually goes."
Emma growled at the brunette's comment knowing well that she was absolutely right. At least for people who didn't know how to communicate with ghosts. Or any other kind of magic being.
However, she knew how to; that had been why Rumple Gold had contacted her with a shoddy call and an ever stranger letter that had only drone on how good would be for a town she had almost never heard of to get rid of what the man had dubbed as "Our own paranormal problem."
Nibbling her bottom lip and glancing back at Ruby who was now tilting her head at her, a slightly amused expression on her face, she sighed twice before pointing at the bunch of herbs she usually carried with her, the chalk and small tubes in where she kept the oil and holy water glinting softly into the dying light of the room which, if anyone wanted Emma's opinion, needed a makeover.
"I don't usually try the quickest route in this." She admitted, blaming her tiredness and the still bitter taste of Killian's words as she had walked towards her car that very same morning in the unusual frankness she was displaying. "You know" She added as Ruby glanced at her, obviously not understanding her.
Had she never read a book about this? She knew that some places weren't fond on talking about magic in general but talking with ghosts was quite normal on small towns like this one. That was the reason why she had moved to Boston after she had managed to get a name of herself as a paranormal investigator. There was just so many ghosts of old ladies one could stomach after all. "Still, you are here, in a small town once again." "The whole ritual thing. I've found that the spirits in general tend to get angry whenever you try to light candles and communicate with them as if they can't hold an actual conversation."
Ruby snorted slightly and Emma found herself smiling as well. It had been, she thought, a long day from the moment she had opened her eyes and had found Killian's angry ones staring back at her from the corner of her room.
That's what you get from trying to help the spirit of a sleazy pirate to cross to whatever dimension they belong to instead of doing your actual job.
Blinking rapidly and trying not to yawn, Emma sighed a little more and put the pendant back on her neck, her fingers cold against her skin. The waitress, who had been the only one in the small town to actually look at her with something else than blatant curiosity, kept on eyeing her. She was slightly younger than Emma, the blonde had decided, three, four years top and was definitely interested despite the obvious lack of basic knowledge on what entailed to make a ghost talk to you.
"You know Gold's phone number?" She blurted at the end, tired and already wanting to sleep a little before next morning rolled by. "On his letter he only gave me how to find the ruins and your address to get some place to be while staying here."
"I'll ask Granny to give it to you tomorrow." Ruby replied, turning already and taking a step outside the room. She seemed suddenly nervous but Emma merely grunted a "thanks" as the door closed, Ruby's wish of goodnight getting slightly lost on the creaking of the old bed Emma now got to fully appreciate.
-.-
She had a nightmare that night which was something she had counted on, considering the sheer energy the ghost had displayed. She still hadn't taught herself to transform those into lucid dreams but the moment her body floated above the castle she had been inspecting hours before her knowledge kicked in and a part of her recognized it as it was.
On the dream she followed the same path she had done during daylight; the same cracked stones and glass welcoming her presence as she kept on floating from abandoned room to empty corner until a pull from inside her ribcage halted her in the hazy black air that seemed to create the atmosphere around the dream itself.
The moment she followed that pull, however, the walls changed again, repairing themselves as she pushed open the door of the throne room in where now the dancing flames of torches painted the place in reds and purples that seemed to almost swallow the throne which, yes, was where Emma had imagined it to be.
Empty but still ominous the throne kept on pulling Emma towards it until everything the blonde could feel was the anguish that came out of her, in dark waves that formed a retreating silhouette.
She awoke with a start, her whole body buzzing with magic and the guards she had on her pendant completely spent. Groaning, she tossed the sheets above her head and went back to sleep after noticing how, coming from some place outside the dinner, a wolf's howl reached for the stars.
-.-
Gold's pawnshop was the physical embodiment of the man that welcomed her into it. Old and emanating a kind of power that made Emma's eyes shift towards the darker corners of the place before swallowing, feeling the rich scent of magic coating the walls of the place from the very old objects that were on display.
Looking up towards the glass mobiles that encapsulated the little light that managed to shone through the thick glass that divided the shop with the outside world, Emma let her eyes get lost on the blue and transparent unicorns that stared back at her with their eyeless sockets as she felt the man's own stare following her every movement with a smirk dangling from his lips and his cane drumming softly against well-cared parquet.
Raising one hand to hover above the unicorns, Emma tilted her head to her right, the quiet sound of cars passing by at the other side of the now closed door muffled and almost swallowed by the place itself. Silencing guards; impressive.
"When you sent for me I'd have never had thought a warlock would need any help with a ghost." She infused her voice with nonchalance but the moment she turned she could see Gold's eyes glimmering red before the man's façade fell once again into place, a slow smile -not very different from his welcoming smirk- stretching his thin lips in a way that made the blonde almost uncomfortable as they kept eyeing each other.
Shrugging and walking towards the wooden counter at one side of the shop, Gold left his cane dangling from the counter's edge, the stick falling in an almost unnatural angle that Emma stared at before Rumple's voice rose again in the perfectly composed accent he seemed to have.
"I knew there was a reason why you were so well recommended; Miss Swan."
Emma merely hummed at that; she had talked with enough warlocks to know that the most powerful ones never truly admitted being one. Their object of power would be in danger if they did that and, as expected, a part of Emma's brain started trying to decipher which of the many objects that covered the walls could be the man's focus.
The walking stick was far too obvious and Emma casted the idea aside before blinking, using her own blank smile while waiting for the man to keep on talking.
"I understand you have already inspected the ruins?"
Nodding, Emma fiddled with the pendant she had spent enough time that morning to replenish with her usual guards.
"You are right in there being… a presence."
At Gold's encouraging nod Emma kept on talking, approaching the counter and blocking the objects around them; one thing was knowing the person in front of you was a warlock; another not falling into spells or protection guards they may had at hand. Warlocks tended to be immensely paranoid and she didn't feel like falling into a trap just due to a lack of vision.
"I couldn't communicate with… her but she manifested this night after leaving the castle. Nothing I could really work with but enough to draw some clues. That's why I wanted to talk to you."
Gold's brows arched at it but nodded, smile still on place and hands absentmindedly pressing the surface of the counter. A detail Emma didn't let it go unnoticed.
"I'll be happy to help as much as I can."
Clearing her throat and reaching for a small notepad Emma absentmindedly knocked on the central sigil written into the cover before opening it, eliciting a small glow from the pages that swiftly filled themselves with the notes she had taken as soon as the rising sun had awoken her a second time that night. That did make Rumple brow to arch but the man didn't comment on it as Emma read a few lines to herself before directing them to the man.
"The ghost seems to be a woman; someone from the royalty or with enough connections to it." She found herself thinking back on the portrait, the way the presence had seemed to look at her, reach to her from the shadows the moment she had asked for her. "I saw a portrait but I didn't feel any magic coming from it so I'd say that the presence…"
"Has simply permeated the ruins." Gold's voice finished her train of thought; the following condescending smile making Emma clench her notepad before nodding curtly, ink lines forgotten. "I'm not new to how ghosts and apparitions may behave dearie."
Pretending to not have listened the almost paternalist edge Golf gave to his tone, Emma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, quickly and almost angrily running her hand through her hair, nails grazing her scalp as she did so.
"Then you must know that I'll need more than just the knowledge that they are an apparition for me to actually contact her. If she is used to roam free through the ruins is useless to try and focus her presence in one single place."
Gold resumed with his smirking, lacing his fingers together as the air between them felt about to suddenly freeze. His cane was still waiting for him to pick it up and Emma glanced at it before staring back at the man, a glint of something else apart from magic echoing on the back of his stare.
Silence stretched until the man said, in a very mild tone a name Emma quickly jot down, three lines underlining the name.
"Her name was Regina Mills."
-.-
"Regina?"
The ghost name felt heavy on her tongue and Emma could feel it climbing through the dust and years that covered the ruins walls in patterns she couldn't truly see but could feel on the way they prickled her skin. Taking a deep gulp of air, she kept on circling the throne room, her right hand following her movements while touching softly the harsh rock, her fingers falling inside he crackles and getting covered in that very same grey specks that seemed to almost be raising under her call.
She considered, not for the first time, to try to summon the ghost with the conventional method as she had said to Ruby; candles and just enough sap and chalk to create a magic confinement. The mere idea, however, didn't sit well on her and so, as the other times she had thought about it, relegated it to the back of her mind.
Her aversion to rules would eventually kill her; a part of her mind whispered, the one that still resurfaced from time to time; that kept on staring at her with the stern look of someone she had vowed herself to never become. Magical traps were not the only way to get to speak with ghosts or any other creature, just the quickest ones and she very much preferred to speak with them through the hard way rather than using what she suspected was as painful as trying to make anyone talk while poking at their insides with a metal rod. Not that she had tried the latest on a human.
Shaking her head and freeing herself from the cobwebs such thoughts always brought with them, she left the walls and positioned herself next to the forgotten portrait; her eyes going traitorously towards the figure it displayed. She knew already that the way a presence had been in life could be nothing like the way they wished to present themselves while dead and still when she called for the woman again her mind went to the shadowed picture.
Picture she had had the opportunity to study as a photograph on a dusty history book thanks to Ruby's friend; Belle. The woman was the local librarian and had been happy to answer to every question Emma had come up with after her meet with Rumple Gold.
"We don't really know how she came into power or how she fell off from it." She had said, gentle expression scrunched in a frown. "The only thing we know from her is that she owned the ruins and seemed to view over this part of the land."
Nothing too detailed then. Emma had touched the spine of the book, almost waiting for it to be infused in Gold's magic only to be met with nothing but a series of boring lists in where, yes, Regina's appeared next to what seemed to be a close copy of the portrait she had discovered. Something that had made her frown considering how no one seemed able to explore the ruins.
Belle had shrugged at her appreciation, eyes already lost in a novella the blonde couldn't make up which was.
"They are just too old and we haven't been able to speak with her. I think that's why Rumple decided to send for you."
Which, Emma had found herself thinking when she had exited the library, hands deep on her pockets and almost the same number of notes than when she had entered, was also strange on itself. The man had felt just far too powerful for her not to be able to get rid of an apparition; no matter of strongly it felt for the ruins that had been her home. That missing piece had been enough for Emma to walk back towards the dinner and grab a few more guards before returning to the castle; the mental map she had made the night before hazy in a few points but not enough for her not to be able to reach the main door by midday.
Now, an hour after that and with the only aid of the sunlight that managed to slip through the cracks, Emma straightened her back and called for Regina infusing her voice not with a commanding hex but a beckoning one. One that would let the spirit know how she had come there only to talk.
Magic, as it always happened with her, trickled out of her mind ever so slowly, pooling around her wrists before bleeding out of her in thick globes that she could only see if she squinted her eyes. She had never been much of a magic user, never truly had liked the power or find any solace on it. That was why she had transformed in an investigator; less potion making more actual gum-shoe work.
Feeling her call beginning to reach for the hidden parts of the room; the one time had covered, Emma took a deep breath and waited.
She was used to wait; the lack of a trap made the ghosts curious but lazy on answering as soon as they realized they weren't going to be forced to be summoned and so a "natural" ritual was supposed to be as long as the ghost felt like it. However, as soon as her magic started to permeate the floor beneath her, no other place to go, Emma began to feel tired much quicker than she would normally feel.
Tension beginning to accumulate on her shoulders, she tried to change her stance, deciding that a more relaxed one could help her. As soon as she did so, however, she realized that she had made a mistake and so, as nausea began to creep through her body, she could feel her whole body going slack; unable to move or answer to her commands.
Next thing she knew was the darkness beckoning her; the sound of footsteps accentuating the pounding blood on her ears as she did so.
-.
"Breathe, there, just like that. I thought I had left quite clear to not go in here, miss stranger."
Emma swallowed as she opened her eyes, the world around her still too bright for her mind to properly understand it.
"Who…?" Her question died on her lips as she took on the figure in front of her; brown eyes and brunette locks just the same shade the portrait managed to display; mistreated as it was. The clothes, however, weren't the ones that could be make it through the passing of time but something with less red and more black reflecting the now dying light around the two of them. "Regina."
The woman in front of her threw her a warning glare as Emma stood and checked for her pendant, her magic spent. Stupid, she thought, she had forgotten to consider how rock could very well act as an almost vampire spawn with magic, sucking it all out. She should have never tried to do a beckoning hex. Not without a proper counter spell.
"I believe we haven't been introduced for you to call me like that."
Emma almost snorted but her body hurt too much and the guards she had were beginning to titillate; informing her that she had less than a half an hour before she was left stranded in the middle of the ruins with an angry ghost and no way of returning home but walk several hours in a place she wasn't familiar with.
Renown investigator? Maybe she should start answering phones with "Emma Swan; stupid sorceress."
Clearing her mind from those dark thoughts and knowing well that they came from frustration and tiredness Emma cracked her neck by tilting her head and looked directly to the ghost in front of her.
To the woman, her mind corrected, because there was no doubt that Regina Mills had retained the figure she had had while alive.
"I'm…" Emma stuttered. "I'm Emma Swan; paranormal investigator."