Keeping the legalese out of this chapter was hard. That would be my inner Rose coming out—we are apparently terrific at lawyering.

This beginning bit with Kain and Porom has been typed up for quite a while, and... I hope it doesn't come off as toooooo creepy... The fandom had briefly discussed the two as an item a few years ago, and ultimately decided... NO. JUST NO. But I don't know. Take from that and this what you will. ;D

FYI: I have been in the bedrooms mentioned in Theo's bit. It's uber creepy. Couldn't hang around for more than 30 seconds before losing my nerve. Couldn't muster the nerve to open most of the doors. Oh, and that terrifying moment I got lost in one of the back hallways all by myself and couldn't even hear any of my friends anymore? Oooooooh... That is for next chapter. 8D

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Spirits of the Past

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Well, this was disappointing. Just when Kain was getting used to the twins being around, they were leaving. And just when he was getting used to Theo being around, he was leaving, as well. But then, after what had happened with the ball, he couldn't blame any of them for wanting to get away so badly.

Kain would have liked to give these people a proper farewell; he certainly liked to think they were getting along, and it seemed like the polite thing to do. However, the twins and their companions were too busy packing to spare him a moment or two. And Theo hadn't returned at all. He was still several hours away in the remote village where he had been born, doing his best to dig up the papers that went with the manor that was still technically his. He probably wouldn't even bother coming back to the castle.

Kain couldn't fathom why the twins were so eager to suddenly move somewhere so far away from civilization, or why their companions had only been passively surprised by the announcement. They all seemed optimistic and excited about the move. Even when Palom began to brag that their new home came with a resident ghost, the youngsters were nowhere near as shocked or annoyed as Kain thought they should have been.

Perhaps he was just over adventures and suspense and romance.

All the same, he wished there was more time to say goodbye. The twins planned to be out of the castle with their friends and all their few possessions by the end of the week. And he couldn't seem to pin any of them down for a reasonable length of time. Finally, he decided to be bold and just call on them at their suite; after all, if they were packing, where else would they be? To his relief, the door was answered by Porom, and she was alone. Kain was especially glad of this; of all the people leaving, he had wanted to speak most with her. It had been a long time since he had had such a like-minded and sharp friend. Her leaving so suddenly was admittedly saddening.

"I suppose this was bound to happen," she said dismissively when he asked her about it. "I could have told my brother so, but he never listens to me when it counts."

"It's a pity, really," Kain commented. "Just when you were back on your feet, and everyone was settled. I was finally beginning to enjoy you people."

Porom offered him a grim smile. "I was finally beginning to enjoy you, too. It took long enough... Perhaps..."

"There's hardly a perhaps about it. It's taken this long because of me, and I apologize for that."

"No, I just mean... There are moments when it feels as though no time has passed at all. Not since our birthday, not since our quest, not since... Not even since the war."

Kain was puzzled, but shrugged to keep it from showing. "Even I have my nostalgic moments, Porom. It isn't a crime."

She paused, and a sequence of emotions crossed her face: regret, fear, amusement, decisiveness. Finally, she closed her eyes with a brief sigh, and looked back at him with a calm smile.

"Have you heard of a phenomenon called delayed time perception?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Oh, it's a fascinating occurrence, and rather rare. As it is, most of the people in the world who suffer from it are our friends. My brother and I both deal with it, and so does Rydia."

"...Oh really?"

"Imagine spending your whole life in a single time zone, never leaving it. And then all of a sudden, by a trick of fate, you end up in the previous time zone for a period of time. Until you discover a way to go back home; and when you get there, everything is an hour behind, and you can never quite catch up."

"This is a common occurrence. It passes within a few hours."

"Not for us. Think of what the three of us went through. Think of how that would stick to your very self."

Kain considered this slowly. "After all this time, none of you have caught up with the one year you lost?"

"A year is a lot of time to be removed from the normal passage of time... Come with me, Kain."

Deeply wishing he could understand what she was talking about, he followed her out of the suite and down several halls and flights of stairs. After long minutes of walking, she stopped before the entrance to the throne room. Kain knew how much she hated the place; she surprised him by reverently opening the double doors and stepping slowly into the hallway.

Having no clue what she was going to show him, he proceeded with caution. Porom stopped about halfway down the hall, staring at a spot on the right hand wall, and knelt without blinking. She placed her hands gently against the wall, and sighed deeply to herself.

"My brother and I just turned 17. Although, if you wanted to be technical, we are actually 18."

"Excuse me?"

"Did they teach you in school, the three criteria a subject must meet in order to be alive?"

Kain partially didn't understand the question, and so didn't answer.

"One must be able to breath, in the first place. If it breaths, then it must be able to eat. If it can do those things, then it must be able to grow. It follows logic, does it not?"

"Ah, yes. I suppose it does," he agreed, finally remembering what she was talking about.

"A non-living subject can't do any of those things—it never could, and it never will be able to. A dead subject was once living... But has ceased to be. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"When my brother and I turned ourselves to stone, we took on the form of a non-living substance; but because we were once living, we were actually dead. We didn't breathe. We didn't eat. We certainly did not grow. We remained that way for a year, existing in this world, but not as a developing part of it. So we have been here for 18 years..."

"But you have only spent 17 of them being alive."

"It ruins one's perception of the passage of time. Time, which is already to fleeting and so relative. We can never get that year back, you know; we can never make it up, and we can never catch up to it. I can't imagine what it's done to Rydia, who lived a lifetime in an alternate dimension, and then returned to live another lifetime here. I find this condition to be mildly annoying, slightly depressing on the worst days. I suppose it must bring her physical pain."

Kain listened in silence, as Porom quietly, morosely explained. He wondered if perhaps she was being overly dramatic. But then... He looked a little more closely at where her hands were, as she brushed her fingers over the cool stone. This was the place where she had stood, entombed in rock. Perhaps it was just being in this place again. He supposed he would have been kind of emotional, himself.

As for Rydia, he couldn't be certain. She had never seemed to be particularly bothered, if she even was. Then, he didn't truly know her well...

"How do you cope with something so powerful?" he asked.

"You try to take it a day at a time, and forget that you have this problem at all. It isn't easy. I wish I knew how my brother gets along so well; as if he doesn't even have it. He defies logic, sometimes."

"So do you, on occasion."

"Hm... Thank you."

"Perhaps we should return to your suite. If you need help finishing your packing, I would be happy to help."

Finally, she tore her gaze from the wall and gave him a nod. "I would appreciate that. Thank you, Kain."

He took her hand and pulled her up, dragging her out of the hallway as quickly as he could. The sooner he got her out, the better.

Strange. She is changed, from only weeks ago. Never have I heard her cling so desperately to logic and sense like this. It isn't like her, not in the least. What could have caused this? I wonder if she can ever go back to the way she was...?

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At the same time, several hours away, Theo and the mayor of the village were surveying the manor house. Upon explaining why he needed the house's papers, Theo had been worried that the small, elderly man would raise a fuss. To his relief, the man had been overwhelmingly pleased, but not overwhelmingly loud about it.

"Good old KluYa's boy! I thought you seemed familiar! Just the other day, we were talking about you boys-Cecil, oh, of course we know all about him, but we were wondering whatever had become of you. Yes, let us scare up those papers at once!"

The mayor had been happy to help with all those matters; which Theo was also relieved about, because seeing the stack of legal documents the man produced made his head swim. He hadn't the faintest idea where to begin. Fortunately, the mayor was something of an expert, and helped him understand several things. Out of the needlessly complex legalese, he came up with a fairly simple summary:

First off, the will clearly stated that the property belonged to the Harvey family, and had for more than 300 years; the initials in the wrought iron gate were those of the first county lord, Harrel Harvey. The house had been the family home, until one son or another earned a knighthood, at which point the family moved mostly into the big city. No member of the Harvey family had lived in it for nearly a century after that; not until Cecilia, the eldest child, had moved into it. Now that she was deceased, the will dictated that the house be passed to the eldest of her children. Being Theo, himself, which made matters much simpler. It was his to do with what he wanted.

And he wanted to give it to Palom and Porom, as a gift with no strings attached. It was more than within his rights.

Secondly, having been mostly forgotten on the outskirts of the countryside, the state had never come along to claim the estate, even though it was a large piece of property, full of opportunity and valued at several million gil for the land alone. Out of gratitude to the last proprietors, the villagers had been doing their best to keep the place up until someone found a use for it. The locals tended the gardens, washed the windows, and swept the halls—kept everything as Cecilia would have wanted it if she were still living. Their latest project was to repair the crumbling wall around the garden. All of this more than explained why the backdoor was unlocked, and mostly unguarded. In fact, when the party had arrived and waltzed right in the backdoor, the only reason they weren't hindered was because the rain had chased the workers back to the shelter of the village.

It also explained, as they toured the house, why so many obvious pieces of furniture were missing. The people staunchly paid for everything out of their own pockets. Being simple people, their funds for this were limited. Many things that had remained in the house for generations had been sold to pay for the upkeep. The ballroom chandelier had been precariously removed just the previous spring, to go on funding this. When asked about it, the mayor simply shrugged.

"It is far less than anything Cecilia would have done, herself. She frequently sold heirlooms, when money was scarce or time particularly difficult. It was the only use she could find for antique china and crystal. She never liked using the things, even on special occasions; she always said, the threat of having them dropped and broken set her nerves on edge. And, if I recall correctly, KluYa never cared for that particular chandelier. He never did get his head all the way around its function, when there was a bigger one in the main hall. It never ceased to baffle him..."

Theo had to smile at that idea. Even though KluYa always tried to be more human, it sounded like something that would baffle his Lunarian brain. It also warmed his heart that the mayor had known the couple so well. The man seemed to remember him well, also, even though his own memories were hazy. If he mentally erased a winkle here, an inch of beard there, he could almost remember the face. Almost, but not quite.

"There are some things," the mayor continued as the climbed to the second floor, "that we have sworn not to touch. Out of respect, of course. Your parents were a breath of fresh air that we sorely needed around here, though we had yet to realize it. Their personal belongings, and yours, as well, have remained as they were the day we found you missing. I hesitate to say that the groundskeepers have even entered your rooms in a great many years. Some have insisted that the rooms are haunted; but I would not listen to such talk."

Theo agreed to that. After spending a night in the house, he had become increasingly aware of a presence watching him. However, like his brother, his conclusion was that there was an animal living in the woodwork. The following morning, he had seen a squirrel scampering through a hole in the corner of the roof; it was highly likely that other creatures were squeezing through that hole, as well. A portly raccoon could have gotten through it. The mayor had already arranged for an exterminator to come and deal with the house guests, and together they were making plans to hire a contractor to come and seal up the holes.

All the same, Palom had gone back to the castle thoroughly elated to be living with a ghost. Once his sister had gently informed him of a presence in the house, it was all he had been able to talk about. He planned to regale his girlfriend with possible horror stories, and to convince Ivri that they should make contact with the spirit. He had tramped up and down the stairs, insisting loudly that whoever it was could speak to him without fear; he had even offered a piece of candy, in case it turned out to be the spirit of a child.

The boy would be disappointed. The only deaths to occur in the house had been of the normal kind, and those had all been greatly aged members of the Harvey family. All of them had died peacefully in their beds. The only exception had been Cecilia, from a terrible combination of heartbreak and a difficult labor, and even she had found a measure of peace as she had passed away. But Theo had checked the records, just to be safe. There had been no murders, no horrific accidents, and very little hatred in the house itself since it had been built.

Outside the house was a rather different story. But within the walls, there had mostly been peace and happiness.

As Theo reached the landing, he gazed slowly up and down the long hallway, from one bedroom door to the next, overcome yet again by a wave of nostalgia. The mayor also paused, possibly overcome by the same. His moment passed quickly, and he produced a key ring from his pocket.

"The rooms have been locked for some time, Master Theodore; but if you would like to look inside, I can arrange it."

Theo cringed inwardly, still uncomfortable being called by his whole name. As a child, he had thought it was a goofy, nerdy name, and Theo sounded infinitely cooler around his friends. Only his mother and father ever called him Theodore—because no matter how it sounded to an eight-year-old child, they had named him with glorious purpose and wanted him to be proud of what his name meant. As a reformed monster trying to rebuild his life, being called a gift sent a shameful shiver down his spine.

Steeling himself for more nostalgia—and perhaps a few tears—he finally nodded slowly. The mayor nodded back, and walked to the first door. The door that led to Theo's old room.

The entered the overly large space, and Theo found that, indeed, the room was exactly as he had left it. All the second story rooms were palatial; his bedroom had been big enough for three brothers to share comfortably, and his parents had always intended for it to be so, in time. As it was, a single child-sized bed stood alone between the two windows, with a toy chest sitting dormant at its foot. A bookshelf with a few faded picture books and forgotten personal treasures stood against the far wall, with a chair beside it. In place of a closet, a wardrobe stood against the other wall. There was still a pile of old clothes on the floor nearby. Literally nothing had been disturbed in all this time.

Theo had expected to be moved, but he hadn't counted on his knees buckling. He hadn't taken two steps before he staggered and fell on his hands and knees on the floor, his head spinning slightly. He felt the mayor's hand on his shoulder, a solid, comforting, steady presence that he barely remembered, but was grateful for, all the same.

"Are you well, young man?" his voice prompted.

"It's a little too much," Theo croaked back, his mouth suddenly dry. "Everything is so... Close. So real. It's..."

"I understand. Perhaps this is a journey for another day."

Theo silently agreed. He had hoped he could muster the nerve for this. If he could barely stand to be in his own room again, he knew he could face the others. Trying to snap himself out of it, he laughed sharply.

"I shall look forward to seeing what they do with this room. I wonder, will they bear to let their own children sleep here...?"

Seeing a useful distraction, the mayor helped him to his feet and pulled him back into the hallway. "Yes, tell me of these young people. The ones you intend to leave this house to."

"A group of great mages," he answered, glad of the change in topic. "A quartet of oddities, looking for a place to belong. A nice, quiet place to study and grow in peace, without the constant pressures of the elite. None of them are 20, yet; but already, they are tired of it all. This is a good place for them, I think."

"We look forward to welcoming them all. You believe they intend to live their lives here, then? Well, my only hope is that they are as active in our small community as your parents were. If they are anything like your family, we will want to see them frequently."

"They... May require their space, at first."

"From what I understand, they were quite social when they were here before."

"It can be hard to tell with them, sometimes."

"We can be patient. Heaven knows, it took ages to coax your father out of his shell. His defenses were high when he first came here. Watching them fall away one by one was an adventure I shall never forget."

"You were good friends with him."

The mayor sighed heavily and glanced back at the other locked doors along the hall. "He did plenty of good for my small community, that much is sure. And he had planned on doing much more, which I had been looking forward to. He came with apprehensions, and something of a phobia for strangers. But the man who was slain in the garden was not the same man I met that first morning... Yes, we became very good friends, KluYa and I. You are very much like him, Master Theodore. He would be proud of you, today."

Theo wasn't so sure of that. Immediately, he was sure that his father would have been unendingly disappointed. Almost as soon as he thought of this, however, he heard his brother's gentle, comforting voice in his head, reminding him not to beat himself over everything that had happened. He had returned, faced his demons, and was making peace with himself. If KluYa could see his eldest son now, he would most certainly be proud of his efforts.

As the two walked back down the avenue to the village, light was filtering serenely through the trees and the hanging moss. It was a glorious September day. Not a trace of last week's rain was to be seen. Which was refreshing, because of the chill in the air. Waling in the chill and wet would have been decidedly less pleasant.

"You are, of course, always welcome to come and visit," the mayor offered kindly. "We will always open our doors to one of our most honored sons; and I wager your young friends would not mind seeing you from time to time, either."

"I suppose I have no choice, now," Theo agreed, daring to smile at the idea. "I look forward to rediscovering my first home. Though that visit may not be for a while, yet; I'm taking up trade as a blacksmith when I return to the city, and I rather look forward to beginning my work."

"Well, we could always use a blacksmith, if you feel like relocating for a time."

"And I shan't forget. Thank you, sir, for everything."

"We are to expect your young friends later this week, are we not?"

"They plan to be on their way by Thursday, at the latest, and settled into the house by the weekend. The faster and further they get from that accursed castle, the better. Everything will be ready for them to sign and initial by then, right?"

"Only one or two things to finalize, but it will not take long. I will see that it is all made easy for them, I assure you."

Theo nodded his head.

"Good."

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Ivri shuddered. He had come far and a long way to reach this abandoned manor house, and already he was creeped out by it. He, along with Bethany and the twins, had only just reached the iron gate, and already he could feel… Whatever it was that Palom had been bragging about, that had made Porom so passively anxious all week. Something was here. Nearby.

It wasn't threatening, at least. In fact, it was difficult to tell. If it felt like anything, it felt like… Like it simply didn't object to them being here. As if, somehow, it didn't care one way or another. Or perhaps it did care, and it was just shielding itself from him.

Porom insisted—mostly to reassure herself—that it was an animal in that attic, and that it would be dealt with presently. Now that Ivri saw it for himself, he wasn't so sure about that…

"I think Theo said the mayor was meeting us inside," Palom said suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. "And that the gate was actually unlocked for us, this time. And check it out! It is!"

The taller boy freely pushed both sides of the gate open, revealing a sprawling lawn, and a circular drive as the road branched off in two, lined with stately trees. The house itself towered above them—raised porch, vaulted first floor, vaulted second floor supported by spiraling pillars. Everything about the house was perfectly symmetrical: a window for every window, a column for every column, a curve for every curve. It was ancient, and exact, and beautiful, and powerful.

Struck with wonder, Ivri nearly dropped his suitcase on his toe. Beside him, Bethany squeaked in surprise and clasped her hands over her mouth.

"We're going to live here?" she gasped. "It's enormous! It's absolutely wonderful!"

"And it's all ours," Palom agreed proudly, making a grand gesture toward the house, and then wrapping his arm around his sister.

"Technically, it's all yours," Porom corrected, shrugging him off with a rather forced smirk. "However, I think we all know you can't hope to manage an entire estate without me."

Ivri gulped hard, suddenly intimidated by the size of their proposed new home. He hadn't expected it to be so big. "All this, for just the four of us? It's kind of over the top for us, isn't it? I mean, how are we even—"

"Don't even worry about it," Palom dismissed, leading the whole group down the drive. "The title is in Theo's name, which basically means he can do whatever he wants with it. Sell it, bulldoze it, rent it out, whatever. And he chose to just give it to me—us—you get the idea."

"For free?"

"Yup. He owed us for, you know, causing our deaths during the war and all."

Bethany looped her arm into his as they walked. "What about all the repairs you were talking about?" she asked.

"Done and done. Cecil's having all that taken care of, as long as we take care of things from now on. How hard can it be, right?"

Bethany scoffed teasingly. "Good thing you'll have a woman's touch, then."

Ivri turned to Porom, who was walking silently and sort of blankly beside him. He nudged her to get her attention and gave her a bright smile, trying to coax some kind of emotion out of her. She smiled back, but it didn't seem genuine to him. Perhaps she was secretly intimidated by the house, as well.

"It sure is a lot of space," he said again, still awed over the sheer size of the house. "It'll be like living in our very own palace, all to ourselves. It's going to be fun."

"Yes, I know," she answered dumbly, as if she didn't have much else to say about it presently. Perplexed by her silence, he took her hand in his free one and tugged her closer to his side.

"It's just strange, right?" he said comfortingly. "One place to the next, like nomads all year… Maybe this can be our real home. Maybe this is the right place this time."

Though he personally doubted it, he hoped he sounded hopeful for her. To his relief, she sighed and rested her head against his shoulder.

"I'd like for it to be," she said quietly. "I know, it has some things to be fixed, and that feeling is overwhelming, but… I can't say what it is, but this place feels like home. Like…. Really, really home. I wish I knew what it was…"

Ivri would have liked to know what it was, as well. How did she feel so welcome, all of a sudden? Of course, Palom felt at home here—he felt at home nearly anywhere he went. He fancied the world to be his for the taking. But it wasn't like his very cautious twin.

As they approached the front steps, Ivri glanced up and began to count the windows, to distract his mind from how high the house rose above them. The others seemed more or less excited about the height; he just felt dizzy. Right in the center of the wide porch was a great double door, flanked on either side by two tall windows—that was four. The floor above was the same, except for the window right above the door—that was another five. The corridor that branched to the right had two windows on the first floor, and two dormers above—another four. The corridor to the left had—

He glanced back at the front of the house. As his eyes had swept back across, he could have sworn he had seen movement in one of the upstairs windows. He adjusted his glasses and looked again, squinting and blinking in turns to be sure. For half a second, he thought he saw a silhouette in the fourth window to the right—but as soon as he blinked, it had vanished.

He stopped short as his heart skipped a beat, jerking Porom to a stop beside him. She looked up him, frowning in concern.

"What is it?" she asked, loud enough to get Palom and Bethany's attention. They all stopped and stared at his wide eyes and pale, fixed eyes, and for a long moment there was anxious silence.

"It's….. Nothing," he said at last, daring himself to look away from the window. He was torn between the fear that whatever he had seen might reappear while he wasn't looking, and the fear that it might reappear while he was looking. In the end, it was Palom's gasp of pleasant surprise that tore his attention away.

"Didja see something?" he asked excitedly, his eyes gleaming with mischievous curiosity, like they always had when he was a child. "Where? I want to see!"

Ivri glanced between all his friends: overly excited Palom, curious Bethany, nervous Porom. He decided that humoring Porom was more important in this moment.

"Nah, it was nothing," he insisted again, making a show of adjusting his glasses again. "It was just the sun. See, Palom? You've worked us all up, and now my mind's playing tricks on me."

"No, no, that's not it, you definitely saw something."

"Oh, you always do this. Just you wait, girls—next thing, he'll have us believing the elemental archfiends are under our beds, just like when we were kids."

Porom shook her head, disbelieving, at her brother. She took Ivri's arm again, and led them on herself.

"Oh, come on, you three. While we stand on the lawn, bickering about ghosts and archfiends, there are important documents to sign. Remember, Palom, this house isn't yours at all until you've signed everything. So, you don't actually own anything yet."

Behind them, Palom gasped sharply, shaken back to reality, and hurried to catch up with them. Thoroughly amused, Bethany followed at a more leisurely pace, giggling to herself.

"Hey, buddy," Palom said cheekily, poking Ivri's ribs with his elbow, "if you do see anything floating around in my house—once its' my house, anyway—you will tell me, right? I'm just dying to know who it is!"

Ivri groaned and rolled his eyes, unabashedly smacking his palm into Palom's face and pushing him away. "Sure, I'll let you know, your majesty."

Even Porom shared in their laugh over his sarcasm. It seemed that, finally, the moment had passed. They climbed the steps and reached the front door, and Palom reached for the doorknob. In that half second, Ivri looked up at the fourth window to the right, just to be safe. As he had expected, and desperately hoped, there was nothing there. He mostly convinced himself that whatever he had seen, really had been a trick of the light. Nothing more. Absolutely nothing more.

Surely…

The knob turned without a fight, and the door swung open on silent, newly oiled hinges. Before he was even aware of the spacious room beyond, he was aware of the presence. It burst out the door as if carried on a draft, hitting his sharp, white mage senses full in the face. It was overwhelming. It nearly chilled him to the bone.

Beside him, Porom shrank against him. She felt it as strongly as he did.

Obviously oblivious to the sensation, Palom turned to them with his usual proud grin, and bowed them suavely inside.

"Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to Harvey Manor—our new home."

Bethany didn't hesitate to let him escort her over the threshold. Behind them, Ivri wasn't sure anymore if he wanted to let Porom go in the house again. He wasn't sure if she wanted to go in, herself. All the same, after another moment's hesitation, the cautiously shuffled inside.

It was more than clear, whatever was hiding in the woodwork was more than just a squirrel. And it was impossible to tell what its intentions or capabilities were.

Oh my stars, he thought with a thrill of excited terror, this is it… We are on a real adventure…!