Chapter 2-
"Must you do that now?" Morgana mumbled out from where her chin was tucked into her large, plush blanket. She squinted her eyes open and found beams of soft moonlight still streaming in through the bedroom window. Only a few hours had passed since she had settled into sleep. Across the small, mahogany paneled room, Kalista sat at a simple two-person table. Blue fingers knocked lightly but steadily against the wooden surface, her gaze shifting to settle on the mage
"Do what?"
"The tapping," she sighed heavily, brushing the hair out of her face and propping herself up on a forearm.
"Apologies. We are not attuned to such prolonged feelings of... impatience," the long turquoise fingers stilled. "What do we call you?" the apparition asked, breaking the silence.
The fallen angel shrugged. "I've had many titles over the years. Of late, most refer to me as The Veiled One, though you may call me Morgana if that suits you."
The specter nodded softly. "Morgana, you say you are not mortal. Do you require sleep?"
"No, sleep isn't a necessity, but I like it. Helps pass the time, makes me feel like I belong here," she trailed off as she lifted her free hand to point a finger at Kalista's chest, choosing to do some prodding of her own. "The spears. Are they functional? Last night you were able to brandish one. "
It was eerie, the mage thought, how they seemed to simply phase through everything, as they did presently with the chair back. Though she was able to learn about what the woman was like in life and the cause of her passing, she knew nothing about her undeath or how she came into her title as the Lady of Vengeance, and curiosity usually did get the better of her.
"Care to find out?" the woman responded with a smirk as she materialized a ghostly javelin in her hand and teasingly lined up a shot at the woman on the bed. "All it requires is one... simple… request."
Morgana was slightly stunned. Did the rage filled vengeance demon actually just jest at her?
"Kidding," the soldier chuckled before a response could be given. Without warning, she loosed her projectile. The spectral weapon nearly grazed the fallen angel's cheek, sapping the heat from the side of her face as it passed before driving itself into the wall behind her bed, causing wood chips to flake down into her wings.
The purple-haired woman pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Was destroying my lovely paneling really necessary?" she huffed as she flipped onto her back to get a better look at the object.
"You asked."
She considered continuing the argument, but her attention was quickly drawn elsewhere. The shaft of the translucent blue-green spear was rather simplistic, but the hooked blade was nothing short of masterwork quality. At least the segment not wedged deep within my nice wood wall, the mage grumbled internally. Cautiously she reached a hand towards it, hovering a few inches away. The teal mist that tumbled from the shaft clung hungrily to her palm, the cold she knew to brace for accompanying it. It stung, but nothing unbearable.
After a few moments, she gently rested her fingertips on the surface, not knowing what to expect. Though the handle appeared to be carved from wood, it felt more like smooth, icy steel. Throughout her entire life, she'd never quite experienced anything like it.
Before she could wrap her fingers around the shaft, her hand slipped through it, as though nothing was there. She abruptly turned her head to glare at its owner, a slight pout appearing on her face.
The Lady of Vengeance tried to hide her small smirk as she feigned ignorance, her gaze temporarily fixated on nothing out the window.
"Fine… we'll allow it," the apparition declared after a few moments, voice laced with amusement, as he eyes fell back on the mage.
Morgana adjusted her attention back on the weapon, accompanied by both hands. She tried to gently remove it from the wood but found little success. From the corner of her vision, she watched as Kalista motioned slightly, the spear withdrawing itself from the wood and levitating above her lap.
"Do you know how you earned your spears?" she asked quietly, hoping not to rekindle any bad memories.
"Earned them? We... believe we have always carried them?"
The mage shook her head gently, not drawing her vision from the item. "When I read your soul, what could you see?"
Kalista closed her eyes, brow creased as she sat rooted in thought. "… Nothing? It was dark. We could… feel your intrusion, however."
"Strange," she mumbled, eyes finally meeting the soldier's again. "Normally the host can view the fragments of their past as I can. It's part of my restoration process. How is one expected to fix their problems if unable to see where they went wrong? Though, your mind is not like other minds. It makes sense that my methods might take differently…"
"Take care with that blade, Morgana, lest you have reconsidered our proposition."
She hadn't noticed how her fingertips were absentmindedly tracing the spear head's filigree. "You require an oath to take a soul, yes?"
"To acquire a new oathbound? Correct. However, such does not brand blood drawn outside of our pledge invaluable."
The mage nodded in understanding, her touch growing more disciplined. A few moments passed before she held up the weapon for Kalista to reclaim. "Thank you. I much appreciate your honesty. And what about you? Does your body behave like your spears?"
Instead of voicing her response, the specter dissipated into a cold haze, reforming practically instantly, now seated neatly atop the foot of her bed.
"I'll take that as a yes," the fallen angel chuckled as she placed the object down beside the other, folding her wings over her uncovered arms in attempt negate a bit of the temperature drop the mist must have caused. "You know, for a fury-filled vengeance ghost, you're much more cooperative than I would have expected."
Her guest smirked. "It is not often we require another's aid. We assume not being insufferable increases our odds of success."
"It certainly doesn't hurt."
"We have questions about you as well, Morgana, if you will," Kalista asked as she motioned for the spear to rejoin the others in her chest.
"I promise I will try," the mage responded simply, folding her hands in her lap.
"Who are you? What are you?"
The mage sighed. The questions were not unexpected, she just wasn't entirely sure where to start. Her past was a long, convoluted mess and just the simple thought of beginning to pick it apart was exhausting. It would be unfair to deny her the answers she seeks though, when she was so candid with me, she reasoned to herself.
"Kalista, do you read?"
The soldier raised an eyebrow, clearly caught a bit off guard. "We have not had need of late, but we are proficient. Why do you ask?"
"I think I may have means to both answer your questions and sate your boredom," Morgana responded as she hopped down from her bed and strode to the far wall of her bedroom, beckoning the spirit with a finger, "come."
The purple-haired woman slid open the large mahogany panel, revealing an impressive collection of books and scrolls. "Now, where are they…?" she muttered almost inaudibly while glancing through the small library. "…Ah, these'll do," the mage confirmed after a few minutes of sifting, pulling two old leather-bound tomes from the shelves. The first was a dusty aged text, The History of the Early Demacian Settlements: Vol III scribed across the front cover, and the second, a noticeably newer manuscript, had no inscription.
"This," Morgana said as she set the Demacian book on the table, "is where you may learn about me. It's a start anyways. You'll likely find it to be terribly biased, and it is, but I believe it'll be of more value to you as such. It's somewhat incomplete and I will answer any questions you have to the best of my ability after. Now this," she added as she placed the second tome beside the other, "I know you didn't ask, but this is where you may possibly learn about you. They're legends and myths from the Shadow Isles. I've not read it myself, and it's a work of fiction so it may be a bit tough to gauge the accuracy, but frequently stories like these are based in some small vein of truth. Perhaps you'll discover something?"
The mage looked up from the table, wanting to ensure her solution to Kalista's questions was satisfactory. The apparition nodded in understanding, taking a seat and opening the cover of the Demacian tome. "And what shall you do while we read?"
"The one thing I've been wanting to do all night," Morgana teased. "Sleep."