Spirits of the Earth

@DragonSong

---

Professor Aspen Helm let the warmth of the chair's leather cushions and the pitter patter of raindrops from the window doze him into undeniable comfort. Sitting with good posture, one leg crossed over the other, he sipped on a particularly delicious cup of hot tea served in a mug carved from mahogany.

He loved a good rainy day. There was something impossible about it that just brought a smile to his face. The smell. The sounds. Being blind from an early age, rain was all about the sounds. He could hear each raindrop fall individually, each unique in their own landing.

He had just given a lecture on primal magic, and how he utilizes his other senses to to make up his lack of sight. Sure, some subject matter with primal magic could be a touchy subject, but sexual ritual often garnered a lot of oohs, ahhs, and giggles from the younger students interested in learning more about the craft.

He finished his tea. Every last drop. The taste was especially satisfying on this soft, rainy day. When he was done, and feeling all-too-comfortable and lazy to sit up from the chair, he moved his right hand up slightly, and the mug floated through the air and found its way to the dirty dish pile in the lounge.

He heard the footsteps before the door even swung open. "Good afternoon," he said, not sure of who is company was today. "Beautiful weather we're having, don't you agree?"

"Oh, you know me." Idara Vesrin all but sauntered into her colleague's office, making her way across the room to lean her hip against the desk and glancing out the window at the rain. "I love a good rainy day."

It wasn't even a platitude; though ice was her real strength in magic, it stemmed from an affinity for water. She preferred snow, really, but the rain was nice.

The woman tapped her fingers lightly against the wood of his desk, head tilted slightly as she watched the water streak down the glass. "...You notice the stranger in your lecture today?" she asked after a few moments. That was why she'd really come to talk to him, after all; unauthorized students were a serious business.

"She was too old to be a student," she continued. "Mid twenties, maybe. Sat near the back. Irritated little thing. You didn't say anything?"

"Hi, Idara."

Aspen greeted his colleague with a warm, inviting smile, face pointed not at her but in the general direction of her voice. At her question, he smirked a little, and pointed at his eyes. "..Notice someone?" he teased. He knew that she knew that he did in fact notice the stranger, and he never had trouble identifying when someone was or wasn't present in his classroom.

"Yeah, I noticed the woman, and no, I did not say anything," he said, shrugging a little. "I figured if she was in my lecture, she must have wanted to learn something today.. though, based on her reaction I don't think she got quite what she came for."

Leaned against the chair was the man's cane, and he soon wrapped his fingers around the top of it, standing easily enough with its aid. "Why do you ask?" he inquired.

Idara shrugged. "She never got proper clearance to sit in on a lecture. Even passing mages have to get cleared, you know that. And by the time anyone realized she wasn't supposed to be there, she'd left."

She tilted her head at him and quirked one eyebrow--a habit, she knew he couldn't see it. "So. If you noticed anything odd about her, now would be the time to say so."

He smiled again. He really loved Idara. She was like the big sister he never had, or that he never wanted. He reached his hand out so she could take it in her own.

"Very crafty. Very bright. Very skilled. Skilled enough to get into the classroom and out without really drawing eyes from anyone, present company excluded," he said. "She was here to learn about Necromancy, so that's why she was so irritated. I don't teach Necromancy. Awful, horrible stuff, raising the dead."

He shrugged again, a slight frown - one from overthinking - poking at his lips. "Probably a mercenary sent to kill me," he teased. "You know I'm a wanted man in just about every country."

The moon elf snorted and reached over to ruffled his hair. She honestly couldn't help herself around him, sometimes.

"Dork," she huffed with another roll of her eyes. Her expression sobered quickly though and she sighed, pushing off of his desk. "Alright. I'll have to tell the dean." She made for the door, then paused and looked back over her shoulder, brow furrowed.

"How'd you know she was hear about necromancy anyhow? I thought you didn't talk to her."

He touched his left earlobe with the tip of his finger. "I have great hearing," he replied. "I heard all of her complaints."

Aspen placed a hand on her shoulder as he slowly brushed past her, the click clack of his cane slapping the ground as he walked. "Well, I have another appointment," he said. "I assume we're still on for lunch tomorrow? I'll be there a little early this time. If I don't show, assume the worst."

He didn't wait for a response to his joke before he began down the hall.

"Right, I'll assume you've stayed up too late and fallen asleep reading again," Idara quipped in reply with a soft chuckle and a shake of her head as she followed him out of the office. She turned to head for her own quarters; unlike Aspen, she lived on campus, mostly for the ease of getting to and from eight different lectures a week.

---

Not too far from Wyrdwood Academy, the young necromancer in question found herself once more at a dead end. She'd already headed back to the inn where she'd been staying, an old map unrolled on the bed in front of her as she tried to plan her next move.

Rain was refreshing. Each drop it's own pioneer yet working together. It was soothing just as much as it was refreshing, but the smells that wafted into his nose told him its delicacy was soon to turn into a downpour. He picked up his pace just a little bit.

As he turned the corner, he could hear a whispered argument from a group of men a little ways off. One argued that it was wrong to rob a blind man, another argued that that's exactly why they should do it - an easy target.

Not today, boys, he thought desperately as he tightened the grip of his pointed cane.

If Aspen was anything, it wasn't an easy target.

Much to his disappointment, they decided to give it a try. What was worse is that he recognized by the feel of the wall that he was in one of the more rather isolated alleyways in the city. If they did manage to get the upper hand on him, and he was never one to misjudge anyone, then he could potentially be in trouble.

"Okay buddy," one of them said gruffly. "Give us everything you got on you and you won't get hurt."

Aspen could tell by the sound of his voice that he was an older man. He probably drank too much and smoked too much, and visited brothels more than he would like to admit. The additional voices, two in total, of his companions would say much of the same.

"Aren't you a little old to be robbing people?" Aspen asked, looking in their general direction. "I'd strongly advise against this."

"Well. We tried."

The leader of the group stepped up to him and gave him a little push, testing his boundaries. Aspen planted his foot behind him, taking the push but not falling over as the man had hoped. "Give it up," he hissed, pushing Aspen again. When Aspen didn't fall and chose not to respond, he swung a fist at him.

The Professor ducked out of the way, took a step back, and swung his cane under the man's legs in one clean motion. The robber toppled tot he ground.

Did he learn his lesson though? No, no he did not. He got back up to his feet, and wrapped him in a bear hug while the other two charged into him. Aspen had to admit that the hold was strong, and as he tried to wiggle his way out of it another man kicked the cane out of his hand.

"I warned you," Aspen muttered bitterly.

He closed his eyes, and the three were flung off of him with a wave of telekinetic energy. The sound of bones breaking was evident as their bodies slammed against the surrounding walls, and only one had the strength to fight back further.

"You bitch," the robber said through gritted teeth. He pulled a knife from his pocket and started to swing. The Professor in turn kicked the tip of his cane up, flipping in vertically so he could grab it, and shoved the pointed end into the man's chest. Killing him almost instantly.

Gods dammit.

He pulled the cane from the man's flesh and heard the body collapse.

He didn't want to kill anyone. He let them get the better of him in that split second, and he just reacted. He never wanted to actually kill them!

"Hey!" a voice called from down the alley. "I saw that!"

The sound of fleeting footsteps followed.

Aspen hadn't come in to work. Normally a professor missing a day or two of classes was nothing unheard of, but Aspen had always been one to notify head office before missing a lecture.

Idara tried to tell herself not to worry. It was...probably fine.

She didn't quite believe herself.

---

Bounties go up fast around here, Maka couldn't help but note to herself as she hesitated at the bottom of the steps to the inn's taproom, her eyes drawn to the wall where a few rather faded--and one brand new--pieces of parchment had been tacked up.

Blind man with a cane: wanted for murder.

Her eyebrows crept up. She was willing to bet not too many people around here fit that description. Well. What were the odds?

This wasn't good.

Aspen had only defended himself, and in a matter of days he was wanted for murder. He wasn't able to track down the man that spotted him and explain, not that that would have mattered, and as the whispering rumors turned into matter-of-fact bounties he had no choice but to run. He needed to speak with Idara, but he couldn't risk going back to the school. Not now.

He went to his home, packed what he could, and left with Banksy, his faithful dog.

Banksy, or "Banks" as he often referred to him, was a rather large, athletic, and intimidating dog. He was black and tan with pointed ears, a large chest, and golden eyes. He had the energy of a puppy but the teeth of an adult. If one could describe him, one might think he was an attack dog, but he was as friendly and cuddly as they came.

Most people recognized Banks as Aspen's seeing-eye-dog, but really he was just his friend. He didn't need Banks to get around, he just liked having him around.

And now they were on the run together.

He had to get word to Idara somehow. She would know what to do.

Some cursory investigation had revealed that the wanted man was well-liked by his colleagues--one of the elemental fellows in particular, it seemed. After she learned that, it was easy enough to stake out the woman's quarters at the academy.

Maka leaned back in her little alcove as dusk dipped toward true night, running a polishing cloth absently up and down the length of her staff. Despite technically being on campus, her chosen hiding spot was a secluded little place, a path from the edge of academy property up toward the main cluster of buildings. Massive trees overshadowed the well-trod dirt, and in the growing darkness their shadows seemed almost sinister.

Of course, that might have been helped by the fact that there was a ghost on the path.

A girl, maybe fourteen. Probably a student here, once. Empty, broken eyes locked on Maka as she rubbed the cloth up and down, up and down. The necromancer gritted her teeth; if she didn't react, the ghost wouldn't know that she could see her.

...Maybe she'd find a new stake-out soon.

Telekinetic energy manipulation certainly came in handy, but telepathic conversation? That would be a godsend. Too bad Aspen hadn't yet mastered that art, because it would really prove useful at a time like now.

'Idara' he spoke throughout his mind.

Nothing.

He didn't have a choice. He would have to reach her some other way. If he went back to the campus now, he'd hang for sure. The word has already spread too quickly for him to have a chance to explain himself, even if most of his colleagues were on his side. He was certain they would be.

It didn't help that his last public appearance was a lecture where he taught about primal magic, an art that includes a variety of factors: blood sacrifice, cannibalism, and other dreadful things of that nature.

He even joked that he had a few sacrifices to make after class that day! Gods dammit! This was really, really bad.

"Think, Aspen, think," he muttered under his breath.

He didn't have a choice. He had to go to the campus to find Idara before he completely lost control of what was happening. A blind man on the run can only go so far, even if he was pretty capable of himself. Venturing into unknown territory without any sort of plan would be foolish, to say the least.

So that settled it. He would be in and out. He would speak with Idara, and hope for the best.

---

It was several hours later and Aspen and Banks were back at the school. He waited in the shadows of an outside garden corridor that was rarely visited. It was a little out of the way, but he knew Idara would frequently take her walks there, and they would often meet there as well. He was really betting his life on it, because it was the only chance he had.

Ah.

There he was.

Well. No point trying to sneak up on a blind man, really. Not to mention even trying it made her feel...unsavory.

Maka shrugged away from the little garden alcove and stepped out onto the path, twirling her staff around until the butt pointed toward the earth, the length of it tilted up behind her back.

"Master Aspen." She took a few more steps until she was in the middle of the path, maybe six yards ahead of him. "Word is you're wanted for murder, ser. Why don't we make this nice and easy for everyone and you can just come along with me, hm?" Her eyes flickered to the dog, paused, then she added, "Pup can come too, if you want."

The ghost was still there, just behind him. Closer now, her eyes trained on Maka's face. Help me. Her lips moved but there was no sound. Help me. Help me.

So in his best attempt to find Idara, he was immediately called out by a bounty hunter, or someone of that nature. Wonderful. What luck.

He looked in the woman's direction, as he usually did, but by coincidence his iced-over eyes landed directly on her. "I take it you didn't like my lecture then," he said, gripping his cane a little tighter. "That's a shame. I strive to provide my students the best."

He took a step backward, but motioned Banks to stay. "Tell me," he said calmly. "What's a necromancer doing trying to collect the bounty on an innocent man? Don't you have better things to do?"

Shit.

He said the word “necromancer”, and behind him the ghost child’s eyes widened. Black, empty pools suddenly burned to life and her lips pulled back in a slow smile—no. Not a smile. Her skin was peeling away, rotting, her face gaunt where it had been rosy, black discoloration blossoming over her cheeks and brow.

Plague. The ghost was old then, old enough to have died here before the academy was even built.

She didn’t have time to think about that though, because suddenly the girl was in front of her, reaching up to claw at her face. “Help me help me help me HELP ME HELP ME!”

Maka took a breath and looked over her head at her target. She felt the chill of her touch, the shiver down her spine, but she ignored it. “I really don’t think my schedule should be your biggest concern right now,” she replied evenly. “Come on, make this easy on yourself. I really don’t wanna have to hit a blind man.”

The ghost was still screaming. It was so loud now, nearly present in the living realm, that Maka wouldn’t have been surprised if the mage could hear it, even faintly.

Aspen grinned slightly. "Must be hard," he said, ignoring her comment. "Being a necromancer. Seeing ghosts all of the time. What do they want exactly? Do they talk to you? Do they ask for your help?"

His grin widened slightly and he turned away from her. "Figure that out first, and then we can dance. If you'll excuse me," he said before patting his leg at Banksy. "Come on, boy."

He didn't waste any time in walking away from her, though his guard was completely up, ready to throw her body across the yard at a moment's notice if he had to.

Maka gritted her teeth.

Alright. Then they'd do this the hard way.

She walked forward, through the ghost, her steps sharp and deliberate. She wanted him to hear. She had to repress a shudder as she passed physically through the spirit, but she had learned over the years that they couldn't really hurt her, not like this at any rate.

They were just stuck. Lost and sad.

Didn't mean she wanted to deal with them.

"What makes you think I can see ghosts?" she asked blithely, as though they were carrying on a regular conversation. "Even among necromancers it's a rare thing to just see the dead wandering about all the time. You need rituals for that sort of thing." Another tidbit she'd only learned once she came to mainland which would have been nice to know literally most of her life.

He stopped. Turned to face her.

"You're distracted," he replied flatly. "There's no one else here besides the two of us, but you're presenting yourself as someone who is juggling two conversations. Trying to focus on one, ignoring the other. That, and there's a chill in the air there didn't exist before you got here."

"You'd make pretty shit bounty hunter if you couldn't even give your full attention to your target," he continued, his cane off the ground now. "But something tells me you're quite good at what you do, so, I put two and two together. It wasn't hard."

Can up. An opening.

In a lightning fast motion, speed born of many years' practice, Maka struck out with the butt of her staff, first an attempt to disarm him, and then swinging the staff around to hook behind his knees and bring him down.

She's good.

He heard her movements before the naked eye would've been able to see it, and reacted accordingly. Her attempt to disarm was nearly successful, but he held it tight even as it shook violently from within his grasp, and threw himself backward as the staff knocked at the back of his knees.

Rolling backward and hopping up in one clean motion, he threw a vase at her. Literally. He swung his left hand as if he was chunking something heavy, and the giant clay vase that decorated one of the courtyard columns flew in her direction.

Irritating.

But impressive, she'd give him that.

The staff came up again, cutting sharply through the air to intercept the vase, which shattered into an explosion of clay around them.

"Seriously." Maka twisted, and the staff split into two in her hands, blades scraping together for just a moment. "Back down. I don't want to have to hurt you." Sure, he was wanted for murder, but only wanted. No "dead or alive".

The girl was still there. Fuck. She was hovering near the dog now, dead, flaming eyes locked on Maka's every movement. "Help me," she begged, over and over. "Help me. Help me!"

"You started it," he replied with a shrug. Hey. It was the truth. He didn't ask for this. He was only here for Idara, who apparently wasn't taking her gods damned walk today.

"And I'd rather not hurt you either," he said flatly. "So let's just not. Tell me, what is she saying to you?"

Maka froze.

"...How in all hells did you know it was a she?"

Aspen's smile was a smug one.

"I don't," he said. "But you just proved my point. You're distracted. You'll never be able to beat me like that, so why try? How much could I even possibly be worth?"

He let his cane drop back down to the ground, and he held up his other hand to halt any further action. "Tell me what she's saying," he said again. "Maybe I can help you. If not, you can take me in. I won't put up a fight. How does that sound?"

She hesitated, just staring at him. She wasn't actually convinced he could beat her--though he did have a hell of a punch, figuratively, for a blind man.

Still. If he was practically volunteering to just come quietly...

"Alright." She flicked her twin swords down to hand loosely at her sides, relaxed by ready. "She's saying help me." Her eyes flickered to the girl for the briefest moment. "So, professor. You've got two shots, or I take you in. How do I get her to stop?"

"Help me! the ghost wailed, suddenly in Maka's face. The bounty hunter flinched, then cursed herself.

"I know you can hear me! HELP ME!"

Maka's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't respond. Ghosts didn't...they shouldn't change like that, change what they said. Even though the girl knew she could see her now, she shouldn't have...

He stroked his low-cut stubble in thought.

Help me. Help her with what, exactly?

"First we need to find out what help me implies," he explained. "I really know nothing about necromancy, so I don't know how this works. I can't actually hear what she is saying to you. Before I can determine how to help you, we have to determine how to help her."

He called Banks over who had been previously cowering in a corner when the two were fighting. What a guard dog he was.

"Is there somewhere you can take me that would be a little more private?" he asked. "I don't think I can stay out in the public for too much longer. I'm a wanted man, after all."

Maka opened her mouth to reply, but before she could the temperature in the air around them abruptly lowered from "cool night breeze" to "freezing tundra".

"Yes," a new voice encouraged behind her. Maka hissed, cursing herself internally. She'd been so focused on the ghost she hadn't been paying attention to the rest of their surroundings. Fuck. "How about we all just calm down and have a chat in private?"

The necromancer turned to find another of the professors, one she had seen in passing but had certainly left an impression, standing in the middle of the path with her hands raised, ice crackling around her fingertips. The earth around her had frozen solid; she was the source of the chill.

Idara quirked a small smile, though her eyes were hard. "Alright there, Aspen?"

"I am so not getting paid enough for this," Maka hissed, slowly bringing her twin blades up into a crossed guard stance in front of her body.

Aspen knew he had the advantage well before the mercenary felt the chill of Idara's presence. His smile was less challenging and more of genuine delight when he heard her voice, staring in her general direction.

"Just fine, Idara," he replied. "Thank you for coming."

He looked back over in the woman's direction. "There's no need for that," he assured, sensing the drawn daggers. "I said I would help you, and I meant that. Of course, even if I fail and give you my cooperation, I can't guarantee my friend will let you take me in to the authorities."

A look to Idara again. "I'm a wanted man now," he said flatly. "Did you hear?"

Idara snorted. "I heard a lot of horse shit is what I heard," she grumbled "Figured I wanted information from a more reliable source."

Maka snorted. Reliable. Okay.

With a muttered curse, the bounty hunter lined up the two thin blades together and twisted, forming the staff again with a soft click. Just as dangerous, only slightly less deadly--but people tended to be more relaxed around a long stick than they were around two swords.

"I am really not getting paid enough for this," she grumped. "Look, just...leave off, alright? Maybe some other bounty hunter will have better luck with you, I'm off--"

Before she could take more than a step, the path beneath her feet morphed to ice and she nearly slipped onto her backside.

"You just hang on a minute there," Idara said sharply. "You think I'm stupid enough to let you go off and gather reinforcements?"

"She's right," Aspen chimed in matter-of-fact. "We couldn't possibly let you go now, seeing as why we're here in the first place. I would think twice before trying to pull anything now. You struggled against a blind man, do you really think you stand a chance against an ice mage who has no problem at all seeing you?"

He walked casually over to the woman, looking just above her as she was on the ground. "Besides, I'm very much interested in your ghost problem now, Miss... I don't believe I caught your name."

"Bite me," the bounty hunter spat rather than supply her name.

Almost despite herself, Idara chuckled as she moved forward a few steps to stand above her. "If you weren't threatening one of my best friends, I may take you up on that," the mage said with a wink. Close enough to touch Aspen now, she clapped him on the shoulder and added, "She's kinda of a pretty thing, if you can get passed the permanent scowl."

Maka flipped her off--but to her surprise, the ice mage just chuckled and reached a hand down to pull her to her feet.

She tried to draw her hand back. Idara's grip tightened, as did her smile. "No ma'am. You're not going anywhere, we said."

"...Help me, please." Maka's eyes flickered toward the ghost almost against her will as she tugged her hand again. "Please. Please help me...."

"I don't need magic to beat your ass," she hissed at the two of them. Bluffing? Maybe. Probably. She honestly wasn't sure. But she'd be damned if she just went along with them quietly.

...How the hell had this job turned into her being dragged along somewhere?

Aspen hide to his his mouth with his hand when he chuckled. That was funny. "Yes, her voice indicates that she is pretty, and her tone indicates the scowl," he said with a grin. "Of course I couldn't say for sure. I'm blind."

He never got tired of using that as an excuse for everything.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Bite me," he said. "My name is Aspen, as you already know, and this is my colleague, Idara. So, shall we go somewhere a little more private now?"

Maka continued to glare at him. "Do I have a choice?"

"Help me, please. Help me."

"Nope." Idara smiled at her cheerfully, but she did release her hand. "Don't go getting any ideas now; I hardly need to be touching you to stop you running." She turned her head slightly to glance at Aspen. "My place, then? Quickly, I should think."

"You think right."

Considering the ice mage lived on campus, it didn't take them too long to get to her home, though they had to take the proper precautions to keep Aspen out of the public eye, and not draw any unnecessary attention to her way. Banks came along too, of course, keeping quiet and following his master with eagerness like the good boy he was.

Once inside, he let his fingertips touch the wall as he moved just a little bit further into the room, until he found a chair to sit it. "Idara," he said after making himself comfortable. "Do you have any coffee by chance? Tea?" He looked in the mercenary's direction. "How do you take your coffee?"

The reply up your ass was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. Her eyes flickered around the small space as Idara ushered her in--the mage had been barely two steps behind her the whole walk here.

"I can do tea," Idara responded. She crossed to the hearth, setting a kettle on to boil, and added over her shoulder for the bounty hunter, "Don't try the door or windows. You may be fast enough, but this whole place is warded."

Maka bared her teeth. "Of course it is." Running a hand through her head, she muttered, "Look, I don't really care what you two are about here, but Aspen killed someone. Now, maybe it was justified, I don't know, but that doesn't change the fact that he did it. I just wanted to make some coin bringing him in, though that clearly isn't going to happen. Why can't you just let me leave?"

"I killed three people," he corrected her sharply. "And it was in self-defense. No one seems to care about that, though."

As the kettle began to boil, the soft bubbling of liquid and whistle cut through the silence, and the delicious aroma wafted into his nose. He smiled lightly. Idara always had the best tea, he thought, but he also associated it with their many cozy conversations they've had since his time at the Academy.

He let the silence sit for a while before he spoke again. "Is she here now?" he asked. "Ask her what she wants your help with. That would be a start."

"Self defense or not, that's three people dead because of you," Maka snapped, her expression hardening.

"Hey!" Idara turned from the kettle, starting to raise one hand, and the bounty hunter laughed at her. Actually laughed.

"Go ahead, professor, blast me. Freeze me solid, turn my blood to ice, do whatever you want. Doesn't change the fact that I'm right." She pointed at Aspen. "He killed three people. My job is just to make sure he answers for that. Which of us is really in the wrong here?"

She didn't bother to say anything about the ghost, who was currently standing in the window, silent and staring.

Idara's jaw clenched and she moved to stand closer to Aspen, but she didn't seem to know what to say.

Though ice-cold from his blindness, Aspen's eyes showed a quick moment of fire and rage. His brows narrowed, his lips tight, and his posture defensive. "And just what exactly should I be answering for, mercenary?" he said sharply, his tone biting through the air. "It was me, or it was them. What would you have done?! Tell me, mercenary,," he bit down again. "How many people have you killed in your line of work? How many people died because of you? Who are you answering to?"

His breathing was ragged for the moment, but he soon let himself relax, sinking back into the chair that held him so delicately. "Your priorities are in the wrong place," he said. "And your morals are flawed."

Idara flinched, one hand going to Aspen's shoulder. "Hey, calm down," she whispered, trying to keep her voice even. "Listen, let's just--"

"I don't have to kill people to defend myself, professor," Maka snapped back, her eyes flaring dangerously. Outside, the ghost girl seemed to flicker, then almost solidify. "I'm not helpless without magic I clearly have no idea how to use properly. Maybe if you'd bothered to train yourself a bit more you wouldn't be wanted for murder right now!"

"Help me, help me--!"

"Oh for the love of all the gods will you just shut UP!"

The necromancer whirled to the window, bringing her staff around as though she intended to strike the ghost, pointless an effort as it would have been. Her eyes locked with the girl's, and with a sudden, sickening feeling of dread in her gut she realized she'd broken her most important rule.

Don't speak with them.

The girl smiled, and stepped into the room. Plague rotting her flesh away, she reached out. Maka was frozen, trembling. She couldn't move, couldn't fight, pinned in place by the empty fire of that gaze.

The girl's hand brushed hers and her eyes rolled back in her head. She collapsed.

It all happened in a few moments. Idara didn't have time to do anything more than try to place herself between the bounty hunter and her friend before the young woman just up and fainted, to all appearances.

"Gods!" The ice mage started forward instinctively, then paused. "What--she just keeled over! What the hells is going on?"

"Oh dear," he said quietly. "Idara, go ahead and get her a cup of tea ready, and maybe bring a wet rag. It appears our new friend here made contact with her ghost."

He was calm now. He heard her body hit the floor, and the sound was enough for him to find his way over to her rather quickly. He let his hands hover over her body for a moment until one found her cheek.

Idara was right. She was quite pretty. He could tell by the way her face felt in his hand.

Muttering a spell, a light blue hues delicately glowed around her body before dissipating into the air around them. "That should at least help with the headache she may have had when she wakes," he said, mostly to himself. "She should be fine."

"Tea." Idara quirked an eyebrow, though she moved to take the kettle off the fire and pour three cups. "Right. Because tea is just the thing for errant ghost contact."

Maka simply lay on the floor, brow furrowed and breathing shallow. Her skin was cool to the touch--too cool, almost deathly, and a band of sweat had appeared on her brow.

He waited, and then he waited some more. The healing spell he used on her should have woke her up by now, and her tea would get cold.

He felt her cheek again, this time more worried than anything else. She was cold to the touch. Freezing for someone with enhanced senses like his. "Okay, Idara," he said cautiously. "...Something's not right here."

The ice mage paused in blowing an icy mist on her teacup--she preferred the drink cold--and lifted her head warily. "What do you mean not right?"

While very advanced in her elemental field, Idara knew very little about primal magics. She knew enough to counter spells that needed countering and avoid certain rituals, but that was about it. Her eyes flickered to the bounty hunter; other than the slightly too-shallow breaths, she seemed fine. Well. Whatever fine was for unexpected contact with the dead.

"Look, Aspen, we can just...leave her. I'm sure she'll come to eventually." And she had a lot of questions for her friend that she hadn't exactly had the opportunity to ask yet.

He looked to her, his eyebrows raised and a slight frown carved into his lips. "Leave her here?" he asked, a little skeptical, "at your place? Unattended? Do you really think that's such a good idea?"

Whereas he understood where the suggestion came from, he wasn't entirely positive he could get on board with it. Not that he really considered her a threat to either one of them, not by herself anyway, but he had become far too interested in the woman's... gifts. Plus, a deal is a deal.

"Not permanently, you great eejit," Idara huffed with a roll of her eyes. "Just...let her lie there a minute. I've got some questions for you, and I'd rather get the answers sooner rather than later." She quirked an eyebrow as she sipped at her now suitably chilled tea.

His laugh was soft but genuine. "You're right," he agreed, getting back to his feet. "We should talk. And soon. It won't be long before someone comes here looking for me. Our friendship is no secret, after all."

As he walked slowly over to the direction of her voice, he reached an arm out so she could grab it.

Banks decided now would be a good time to go investigate the unconscious girl on the floor, giving her a few slobbery licks on the face for good measure.

Idara caught his arm easily and steered him into the chair beside her with the grace of long practice; she's rearranged the place some recently, and though she knew most of the time he could navigate fine on his own she didn't wanted him banging his shin on a chair leg that hadn't been there the week before.

"So. What exactly happened?" she asked softly after a moment.

Across the room, the bounty hunter stirred, just faintly. A soft groan rose in her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, as though even the soft light of Idara's lamps was painful though her closed eyelids.

Aspen began to speak, but could hear the near silent shuffling from the girl on the other side of the room. He decided not to focus any more of his attention on her, however, per Idara's request. That probably meant it was just going to take her a little longer to wake up.

"To be honest with you, Idara," he started, his voice a little uneasy. "I don't know. Well, I know. I was ambushed by three thugs in an isolated alley, and I fought back. But I let my guard down, and when they had me pinned down, I fought back a little too hard. I never intended for anyone to die. This isn't the first time someone tried to take advantage this blind man, as you already know, but I can usually just knock them unconscious and go about my day. This.. This is bad."

There was a hint of shame in his voice.

"Gods." Idara rubbed her hands over her face a few times before reaching out to clap him on the shoulder. "I--yeah. Yeah, Aspen, this is bad." She squeezed his shoulder gently and murmured, "I know you didn't intend for this to happen, but...but it did. I'm really not sure what we can do..."

Maka's breath became shorter, sharper, then she suddenly sat up with a gasp, wide eyed as she looked around the room. "Who--"

She coughed, doubled over, and had to brace a hand against the floor to keep from collapsing again. When she raised her head once more, her eyes were large and scared, almost childlike against the sudden pallor of her skin. "Wh-where am I?"

Aspen held his hand out flat, facing up to the ceiling, and his tea cup floated through the air before landing in his palm. He let his thumb hook the handle and took a sip, looking off into the girl's direction curiously.

"You're still here. With us," he said slowly. "Are you okay, uh.."

He still didn't know the girl's name.

Idara watched, baffled, as the young woman began shaking her head almost frantically and scuttled back on her hands and knees until she'd pressed herself into a corner.

"Where am I?" she repeated, voice high and thin. It was still her voice, but...changed, somehow. The inflection was wrong, younger, and...

Idara's eyes widened. "Aspen," she hissed. "Listen."

"Who--who are you? What am I doing here?" The bounty hunter looked around the room again, saw Banksey, and muffled a shriek into her hands. "K-keep it away from me!"

"Her accent is gone," Idara breathed, bewildered. "Listen, it's just... She had a Thanati accent, didn't she? No real strong, but it was there. Just...gone." What the hell was the girl playing at? What kind of trick was this?

Holy hell. Idara was right. She no longer had her accent.

A chill crawled down his spine as the relevation hit him square in the face. Not only could he sense the difference, he could smell it. Her smell was different now. it was faint, but it was bitter. It was cold.

"It's okay, little girl," he said cautiously. "We are not going to hurt you. Can you tell me your name?"

Idara snapped her eyes to her friend. "What the fu--?"

"E-Elissa." The bounty hunter--or rather the child possessing her body--stared at him, knees drawn up to her chest. "My name is Elissa." She looked around again and a small whimper rose up in her throat. "Please, I--I don't understand. Where am I? Where's Mother?"

Banksy had retreated back to his corner in Idara's space when the girl shrieked, cowering in the corner like the brave fearless attack dog he was. Aspen, on the other hand, decided to try to get a little closer. He rose from his seat, and walked slowly over to her, his hands in the air to show her that his defenses were down.

"It's okay," he said again. "Elissa. That's a very nice name. Tell me, what is the last thing you remember? When was the last time you saw your mother?"

Her eyes locked on his, and for a moment the violet was eaten away by a soft, dark gray. "W-we were... She was sick. They're all sick, everyone's sick, and the man, the man with the mask, he said we had to stay in the house..."

She sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes, and wrapped her arms around her knees tightly. "I just want my mama," she wailed plaintively.

Idara, perhaps a little slow on the uptake, move cautiously forward to kneel beside Aspen, one hand out to the bounty hunter--girl--whatever. "Hey, easy," she murmured. "We...we wanna help you, okay?"

Mask.

Slowly, Idara got to her feet and lowered her voice so hopefully only Aspen would hear: "Before there was even a school here, this town was tiny. Some records say a plague hit almost four hundred years ago..."

Aspen frowned, that chill down his spine evolving into a full-blown haunting of his soul. So, the mercenary was now possessed by the little girl that haunted her, one that was doomed to the plague that occurred four hundred years ago.

Tough luck, he thought. The thought of a little girl going through something like that, and reliving in day after day - trapped in her own personal hell - made him shutter.

He merely nodded in acknowledgement to Idara. "I'm sorry, Elissa," he said quiet but firm. "What can we do to help?"

"I want my mama!"

Idara flinched back, feeling a wave of cold that chilled even her bones wash over her as the child possessing the bounty hunter suddenly shouted, wrapping her arms around her head. "Gods!" The ice mage took a step back, entirely out of her depth--which honestly was a rare occurrence for her.

"Can we...I dunno, exorcise her or something?" she hissed at Aspen, watching the girl warily.

The girl-necromancer hiccuped a sob and buried her face against her knees.  "I'm cold," she whispered. "It's so cold, I don't understand, I just want to go home, why is it so cold..."

The mutterings continued as Idara tried to edge around her--and suddenly paused. "Aspen..." She looked toward him, frown clear in her voice. "If she...if she was sick, she'd have had a fever, medical practice back then would have been to try to sweat the illness out... So why is she cold?"

Aspen took another sip of his tea. He really didn't have an answer for Idara. He had no idea why the girl was cold, or how she came to possess the mercenary in the first place. He really knew nothing of necromancy and how it worked, and he never cared to know. He didn't things such as this were possible.

This may have changed his mind, though.

He shook his head in response to Idara's question. "Do you know how to exorcise someone? Because I sure don't."

Idara quirked an eyebrow. "Elementalist?" She snapped her fingers and called a few snowflakes to drift from her hand. "What makes you think I have any idea how this sort of thing works. This is closer to primal magic than it is anything I know."

The necromancer was breathing raggedly now, the kind of breathing of a child fighting back sobs and not being quite successful. "Please, why won't anyone help me?" she looked between the two of them, her eyes flickering: violet, gray, violet, gray, violet, gray. "I just want to go home, I just want my mother..."

Idara's eyes widened fractionally. "Her--her accent is back."

Or at least it was for a moment. It seemed with every phrase her voice changed; still childlike, but lilting between the Thanati cadence that the bounty hunter had possessed and the higher-pitched Serenian highland brogue that belonged to the ghost child.

Well she had him there. Primal magic would come in handy in a time like this, but that was not something he knew how to do. Never thought it would be something he would have to do.

Well, no time for regrets.

He was now kneeling right across from the girl, his eyes hallow as he tried to make sense of it all. He quickly placed his hands on her cheeks. "Come back to us," he whispered harshly.

She gasped, her spine arching as her body suddenly jackknifed upright. "Help me, Help me I'm so cold I can't find them the fire I can't see I'm cold, it's so cold, I just want to see my mother, please, I want my mama, help me help me help me—!"

She jerked backward, her head slamming into the wall, and Idara cursed and darted forward to grab Aspen's shoulder, dragging him back. "What the fuck is going on?!"

Maka gasped again and suddenly pitched forward onto her hands and knees. She clenched her eyes shut, breathing hard as shudders ripples through her body.

"...Wh-what...what did you...do to me?"

Not being able to see anything while this happened made the whole affair creepier than it needed to be. He sat on the floor after being dragged away by his colleague, mouth slightly open in shock as the woman came to.

"I.. I didn't do anything!" he said. "You were.. Well, I think your ghost girl took over your body."

“Still...here...” Maka gritted out, eyes clenched shut. She saw the ice mage’s eyes widen slightly. “She’s...still here. I can’t—“

She gasped again, then Elissa’s voice: “Please, please, why won’t anyone help me?”

No! A keening groan rose up in her throat and Maka felt her arms shake as she tried to keep holding herself up. Get our of my head, get out of me, get out—!

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

She jerked upright, eyes wide, and both voices screamed.

Cursing loudly, Idara all but threw herself forward to stand between the necromancer and her friend, Magic crackling at her fingertips.

Aspen scooted back from the ground as the sound of two screams, eerily simultaneous but distinctly different, cut the air in the room. "Idara, hold her down!" he shouted over chaos, lunging himself forward to place his hands again on the girls cheeks.

His icy eyes turned completely white, rolling to the back of his head, and he muttered something under his breath that sounded like archaic gibberish. He was trying to pull the paranormal forces from the mercenary's body - a dangerous stunt that could leave him vulnerable.

Maka screamed again. It felt like she was tearing in two, veins pulsing with an ice so cold it burned as the spirit fought, then suddenly ripped away from her.

She collapsed on her side, breathing harsh and ragged, her vision flickering as she desperately clung to consciousness.

Idara swore colorfully. Just for a moment, when the necromancer pitched forward, she saw the flicker of an image, a girl, standing over her. Then it was gone.

"Aspen, snap out of it!" She shook her friend's shoulder rather harshly. "She's gone, stop the spell!"

Aspen was still chanting the spell mindlessly and erratically under his breath after the girl's breath, hands tight on her face and eyes violently hallow. It was only Idara's touch that brought him back to reality.

He screamed. He jolted abruptly and scooted further away from them with his feet to the floor. His breathing was heavy that could be more considered a pant. He was shivering and his eyes remained white for several moments before they returned to the icy hue of a blind man.

He wrapped his arms around himself. "..So.. cold.." he muttered weakly. "So.. miserably cold.. W-What.. How.."

"Oh shit, Aspen?" Idara placed both hands on his shoulders, eyes searching his face as she knelt in front of him. "Please tell me it's just you in there..."

Behind her, Maka gradually seemed to be getting her breath back. She pushed herself slowly up onto her elbows, then her hands, then managed to sort of prop her side against the wall as she panted lightly, eyes half closed.

Aspen took a deep breath before reaching out to grab Idara's arm. He was still shaking, but he was coming back down to a normal state of mind. "It's fine," he breathed. "I'm fine. I don't know what happened.. I, uh.. What happened exactly?"

"I have no bloody clue," Idara grumbled, sitting back. She glanced toward the door and added, "But none of it was very quiet—I'd put money on us having company in the near future."

Maka laughed dryly, still leaning most of her weight against the wall. "Oh good. Wonderful."

Aspen cursed silently under his breath. Drawing attention to themselves was the last thing they needed, but apparently it was going to be the first thing they got. He hadn't even had the proper amount of time to register what just happened, more or less come up with a plan with Idara to figure out what exactly he was suppose to do.

He was a killer on the loose. What could he do?

"Can you help me?" he asked Idara, his voice soft with worry and desperation. "I can't ask you to go with me. I don't want to put you in any danger or them put a price on your head as well for abetting a criminal.  But.. I'm sorry.. Can something be arranged?"

"I--I can try, ASpen." Idara's eyes were tight, her mouth a worried line. "I can get you out of here and hopefully hide any signs you were here to begin with, but I'm not sure I can do anything else. They already have suspicions I'll be helping you because we're friends..."

Once upon a time she might have told him "To hell with it" and gone with him herself; but she had a duty here, a responsibility.

We all have to grow up sometime, I suppose.

Coughing raggedly, Maka attempted to push herself away from the wall again, then sank back with another curse. "So you're gonna set the blind murderer loose in the countryside?" she rasped. "Yes, that's a brilliant idea. I can see how you lot made professors."

If his eyes could envey any sort of emotion, he would stare daggers at the nameless mercenary. "You're one to talk," he shot back. "You're far more dangerous than I am. And to think I just saved you from... whatever the hell that was, I'll trust you to lay off and not follow me anymore."

"Saved me?" She could have spat at him. She might have, if her mouth wasn't so dry. "You didn't save jack shit, professor. She's still here. You just pissed her off."

Her eyes were locked on the far wall, seemingly glaring at nothing.

Idara followed her gaze, then huffed and shook her head. Great. The ghost was still in her house.

She really didn't have time for this. "Just...clear off, alright?" the ice mage snapped as she looped an arm under Aspen's and tried to pull him to his feet.

Maka continued to glare. "I would, if your genius pal there hadn't just bound an angry ghost to my soul." Her voice shook, though this time it wasn't from exhaustion. It was fear.

Again, if Aspen's eyes could have shown any emotion, they would be that of annoyance. He let Idara help him to his feet, his strength slowly come back to him after that little stunt he pulled. "Wonderful," he replied to the necromancer bitterly. "You get me out of here then," he said to her rather abruptly. "We'll deal with your problem together."

He let his hand land on Idara's for a moment, giving her fingers a little squeeze of appreciation, before walking over to the other woman's direction. He held his arm out for her to take it. "Come on, then. Let's go."

Idara squeezed his hand back, then gave him a little shove toward the back door, urging, "Go."

Maka scowled up at him, frantically trying to come up with another option. She turned up blank.

Fuck.

"Fine." She grabbed his arm and hauled herself to her feet, then quickly let go. "Let's move then."

At a much slower pace than she would have liked, the necromancer made her way back out of Idara's rooms and onto the Wyrdwood campus.

If they were very, very lucky, they'd have about three minutes to get off campus before anyone started coming after them.

Aspen almost grinned at the woman's response. Almost, but not quite.

"Lead the way, then," he began to tease. "I can't see anything."

He raised his arm again as a suggestion for her to take it, though he was quite capable of moving around on his own when he really needed to.

Maka grunted, evidently uninterested in verbal replies. She eyed his arm for a moment, then swore softly under her breath and grabbed his arm, perhaps a bit more roughly than was necessary. "Come on," she growled, setting off at a steady jog.

Gods, she couldn't believe she was doing this.

But what choice did she have? She didn't know how, or even how she knew, but whatever Aspen had done trying to draw the ghost out of her body had succeeded, but somehow bound the damn thing to her. She could feel it.

Not to mention the girl--Elissa--was following them. Not saying anything now, not reaching out, just following at a steady distance, silent and watchful.

Creepy as fuck.

Aspen kept up with her jog as they made their way out of the Wyrdwood. He didn't have much choice but to trust that she was leading them somewhere safe where they could figure things out and not straight into a jail cell.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood for most of the job. He felt the presence of the little girl too, and it was unsettling to say the least.

It was nearly dawn by the time Maka decided they'd got enough distance that it might be safe enough to stop. She would have liked to go further, but traveling in daylight didn't seem like the smartest idea just then.

Mind you, if I hadn't just been possessed I probably could have gotten us farther, she snipped to herself as she finally came to a stop and looked around. They were in a small clearing among a cluster of tall and rather gnarled trees. Oaks of some variety, she thought.

"Should be able to camp here for a bit at least," she grunted, shrugging away from Aspen's arm. "Can you do wards or something?"

Her magic had never exactly been useful for that sort of thing.

Aspen nodded and happily followed her suggestion. With a quick spell and a wave of his hand, a silent seal surrounded them, giving off just the briefest moment of light. "That'll buy us some time," he said. "It hides our scent and makes us invisible to the naked eye. We're protected."

He didn't wait for a response before he took a knee into the dirt below them. Banksy , who had previously been running along side the two like the faithful companion he was, quickly trotted over to his master's side and nuzzled his head into Aspen's side. Good boy, he whispered as he gave him a rewarding scratch behind his ears.

"Where are we?" he then asked. "Smells like the woods."

"Congrats. We're in the woods," Maka snapped at him. She sank down onto the ground and shuffled as far from the professor as the wards would allow. She switched her glare from him to the ghost still hovering at the edge of the camp and back.

Huh. At least it seemed the spirit couldn't cross the wards. That was something.

"Just...go to sleep," she sighed. "We should move again as soon as we can." Once they were somewhere relatively safe, she could get him to undo whatever the hell t was he'd done.

Aspen couldn't help but smile at her snide response, still petting Banks. "I'm not tired," he said flatly. "And you're awfully rude, you know that? Come on. Sit next to me. Take a breather. I still don't even know your name."

"And you're not going to." The necromancer narrowed her eyes at him, though she knew he couldn't see the expression. "Look, we're not friends. I'm here until you detach the ghost, then I'm gone. I won't try to turn you in for a bounty--even if I still think you deserve it--but I'm not sticking around to help you play fugitive."

With that, she turned onto her side and seemed prepared to sleep, or at least try to.

Thank gods the wards blocked Elissa's voice...

Aspen frowned slightly at the sound of her shuffling around. "I'll call you Sally, then," he said abruptly, knowing full well she was trying to go to sleep. "So, tell me, Sally. Did you always dream of becoming a mercenary as a little girl?"

Maka gritted her teeth. She thought about just snapping at him to shut up again, but ultimately decided that wasn't really going to do her much good.

"I dunno," she replied after a moment. "You always dream of being a fugitive murderer when you were a kid?"

Yeah, asshole. Two can play this game.

"Not really," he responded casually. "I wanted to be a professor, actually. But now I'm just a fugitive murderer on the run and my only ally is a girl who clearly hates me."

He continued to pet Banks. The dog was now laying on his side in pure bliss as his master relaxed him into a state of near sedation.

Aspen decided against the small talk. She clearly wasn't going to break. "Okay, so," he started. "Can you tell me what happened? When she took over your body? Do you remember anything?"

"I remember everything," the necromancer replied evenly after a few long moments. Her voice was almost eerily calm now as she kept a tight hold on her emotions. "I wasn't gone. I was just...blocked. Watching it all happen from behind my own eyes, but unable to control anything."

"That sounds terrifying," he admitted. "..and that is sort of like what happened to me. When I was trying to separate the spirit from your body, I-"

He stopped. He stopped petting Banks and stroked his chin with his now free hand. As a form of protest, Banks abruptly got up and trotted over to the mercenary, curling up next to her with his back to hers.

"I knew what I was doing but I lost my ability to stop. I was frozen. Like a brain freeze but throughout my entire body. For the briefest moment, I felt every emotion that girl felt when she died."

"Yeah."

She curled up a little tighter, as though that might stop the memory of the chill in her blood, stop those damned eyes staring at her through the wards.

"Welcome to my life, professor."

Banksy whined just a bit for the attention, and then nudged his snout into her neck for a more demanding approach of attention. Aspen, on the other side of their camp spot, let out a breath. "He likes you."

There was a small chuckle buried in his voice when he spoke. "Banksy, you may be the worst guard dog of all time."

"Yeah, well..."

Maka rolled over, tried to put her back to the dog. That only lasted a few moments before she relented with a sigh and turned to scratch his ears. "I thought dogs were supposed to be good judges of character."

"Banks is a great just of character, actually. That must say something about you."

He turned away from her, laying down on his side. He didn't lie about not being tired. He wasn't tired. He was exhausted. His body was give out from the stress, panic, and running. He mind was give out from extracting the ghost of that little girl from the nameless mercenary's body.

"Good night, then," he called from over his back.

Maka didn't reply. She looked the dog over, gave him a last quick scratch behind the ears, then turned onto her side and tried to go to sleep.

She could still feel Elissa's eyes on her, all through the night.

At some point through the night, Banks left the woman's side and rejoined his master, nuzzling into him for both the warmth and the affection. Aspen didn't mind sleeping on the ground, as he had done it before, so he slept okay for the most part.

When morning came, he could feel the sun peaking through what he imagined were the trees hovering over them, casting little bits of heat on his cheeks to stir him awake. "Hey," he said with a yawn. "Should I extend the ward a little longer, or are you ready to move?"

He had no idea if she had woken or not, but he had a feeling she was a light sleeper.

The necromancer started awake with a curse, instinctively grabbing for her staff. Then her brain caught up with her and she squinted against the dawning light, irritated.

Wait. Light?

"Shit." Maka scrambled to her feet. "Drop the ward and let's move, we slept too long," she replied sharply, already moving in a quick circle around the campsite and trying to mask signs of their presence with scattered leave and such, kicking away the imprint she'd left in the earth where she'd slept.

Aspen laughed quietly to himself as he got to his feet. "You're wasting your time," he said, gripping his cane as he released the binds of the ward. "If someone really wants to find us, covering our tracks will require a little more that."

He clicked his tongue inside his mouth twice and Banks was up and at-the-ready, wagging his tail eagerly next to his master and looking at him admirably. As if on cue, he twisted his head around to look at the necromancer, panting happily with a look on his face that was basically a smile, all but saying 'Come on, new friend!'

"So, where to?"

"Really? And I suppose you'd like to do it then?" Maka grumbled at him. "If you don't have anything productive to say, shut up."

She shot the dog a quick look and felt her fingers twitching, absently wanting to reach out and pat him. She fought down the urge and swung her pack over her shoulder, staff slung diagonally against her back.

"Move it. We're heading east, for now." Just walk toward the sunlight, not too difficult.

"Come on, Banksy," Aspen said in reply. He did in fact walk toward the sunlight, and assumed she would be able to catch up in no time. With unfamiliar landscapes at every turn, it wouldn't be long before he would have to rely on the touch of her arm again.

"Ready to tell me your name?"

"Why do you need it?"

She kept a few paces behind him as they set out, constantly glancing back over her shoulder, on the lookout for any sign of pursuers.

She didn't see any, but Elissa's ghost followed at a sedate pace. Always ten steps behind, though she never seemed to actually move.

The necromancer fought down a shudder. "Look, if we both have our druthers we'll only be stuck together a few days, then never see each other again. Why do you care what my name is?"

He shrugged.

"Why not?" he asked simply. "It would be nice to put a name to the face. Or, well, voice."

Aspen let his guard down. He normally had no issues walking around on his own, even in an unfamiliar area, but he was too focused on talking to the mercenary and trying to convince her to give him her name - primarily as a start to maybe earn her trust, show him he's not such a bad guy - that he didn't sense the stump in the ground in front of him.

He fell quickly and hard, shouting a curse on the way down and muttering a curse after the landing.

Maka tried to shout a warning when she realized he was going to walk into the stump, but it came to late. Huffing out a short, sharp breath, she picked her way over to him and reached down to grasp his hand.

"Don't most blind folks use a cane or something to stop stuff like that from happening?" she muttered as he hauled him to his feet. Tactless? Sure. But she thought it was a valid question.

Well that was certainly embarrassing. After she hoisted him back up, he dusted himself up and sighed bitterly. "Yep," was all he said. No use making excuses for himself.

"Anyway, like we were saying. We're going to be stuck with one another for a few days, why not at least know each other's names?"

"Because I don't want to be your friend, and I don't care what you call me," Maka replied shortly. once he seemed steady on his feet, she set off again.

This time, she let her staff hover out to her side, just a bit. If there was another sudden roadblock, she should be able to bring it up and stop him in his tracks before he tripped again.

Trying to convince the necromancer of anything was like trying to convince a brick wall to transform itself to wood. She was hard-headed, rude, and couldn't be bothered. He frowned slightly at her response, but just kept walking.

He didn't know why he bothered.

"How long have you seen them?" he asked after some time. "All of your life?"

She almost tripped herself.

For several long moments, she debated not answering him at all. Then eventually she sighed, rolling her neck back and forth and glancing around as she did.

There she was. Still ten steps behind.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "I just...didn't always know what it was. They--they look like people, most of the time. I didn't realize."

"Necromancy is one area that I really know nothing about," he said, continuing to walk with his cane, his companion, and perhaps his enemy. "The closest thing I have to help you is primal magic, and I am not sure if that is going to cut it."

He let the air settle between them before continuing. "There must be some teachings somewhere we can get our hands on. How much do you know about it? Can you use it to your advantage? Or is it just a curse for you?"

"I don't want to use it," she snapped back quickly, "I want to get rid of it. And I want to get rid of her."

She cast a quick glare over her shoulder at Elissa. Yup. Still there.

Swearing under her breath, she turned forward again and quickened her pace slightly. "What the hells did you even do last night? Nothing like that has ever happened to me before."

"You wouldn't understand it," Aspen replied dryly. "That is to say, it's not easy to explain. I was using primal magic to try to rip the ghost's spirit from your body and well, looks like it backfired."

He stopped abruptly, peering over his shoulder to face his hallow eyes in her general direction. "And I understand you want to get rid of it. I understand you want to get rid of her. Don't you think learning more about your abilities would help you learn how to to get rid of them, or if anything control them? We have to start somewhere."

He turned back and continued walking with a slight sigh. "I want to help you. I really do. I know you don't like me, and that's fine. I know you think I'm just a murderer, just a criminal, and that's fine. I can't control what you think, but maybe I can help you control this. You're suffering, and I would at least like you to give me a chance to remedy that."

Banksy let out a soft vocal whine in agreement.

She snorted. "What do you think I was doing in your lecture, professor?" she muttered. "I was trying to learn how to control it. But like you said, this isn't exactly your area of expertise."

She laid a hand on his shoulder for a moment rather suddenly, holding him in place as she moved in front of him on the path. Then she snatched her hand back quickly and kept walking, not commenting on the move--or how she was now leading him around a shallow dip in the path.

"Once you get rid of the girl, I don't need your help anymore," she muttered. Her staff was held slanted at her side, just in front of his feet, ready to snap up and stop him if they ran into an obstacle he couldn't see.

"But to be able go to help you learn how to control, I first need to learn more about it," he retorted, trusting her touch to keep him from wandering astray or falling again. "And if I were to get rid of the girl, then what? They'll never stop coming. You'll live with that for the rest of your life. Wouldn't you rather be done with it altogether?"

"Of course I would." Her voice was short and clipped. "But you've basically just told me that it'll be a long shot if you can even get rid of the girl. You expect me to believe you should just...rip the magic out of me entirely?"

"Why do you so hate who you are?"

Maka stiffened, her steps stuttered, but then she kept walking. Don't look around, just ignore her.

Aspen's impatience was well hidden. "That's... not what I'm saying," he tried to explain. "Or better to say.. that's not what I'm trying to get at. I'm positive I can help you, but in order to do so, I need to better understand how necromancy works. If you can't tell me that, I need you take me someone who can, or somewhere where I can learn more about it."

Maka stopped walking. Her jaw was set and tense, eyes flaring as she rounded on him.

"I don't fucking know, alright? I don't know how any of this works! I've been seeing ghosts as long as I can remember and they never leave me alone! I had to leave my home and everything I ever knew because of this curse--if I knew literally anything I wouldn't be standing here talking to you right now!"

She stopped, panting, and rather abruptly came back to herself. She thought she caught a glimpse of Elissa's small smirk over his shoulder and gritted her teeth. "Just... Fuck. I don't care. Just walk. I'll get you to the next town over and then I'm gone, alright?"

Ghost bound to her own spirit be damned. She didn't want to deal with this anymore.

Aspen's impatience was no longer well hidden. He stopped walking abruptly, foot planted firmly on the ground. "Okay. Listen."

The words had barely left his mouth before he whipped around, cane in hand, bringing the pointed in down on her. The intention was for her to block it, he could only hope she was as skilled as she believed she was.

Maka's eyes widened and she moved on instinct, bringing her staff up to halt his cane with a resounding CRACK!

"What the fuck?" she snarled at him, shoving forward both to push the cane away from her and throw him off balance.

Aspen's smile was a challenge, and when she pushed him back he took another swing, purposely aiming for her staff.

The second collision sent a chill down his spine, and for the moment his face with pale, almost lifeless, and his eyes filled with color as if he were no longer blind. "Why do you so hate who you are?"

His voice was different, almost child-like, before it completely transformed to the voice of the little girl that haunted her. "Help me."

Her eyes widened and the bottom of her stomach dropped out. She staggered back, barely able to swing her staff up into a defensive position in front of her body.

"Stop it," she hissed--whether she was talking to Aspen or Elissa she didn't know. "Just stop it, stop!"

The professor's head tilted curiously. There was something sinister about his smile and something evil in his eyes, which by all accounts shouldn't showcase any type of emotion. "Help me," was almost more of a command than a request. "Help m....agh!"

Eyes shut tight, he threw himself backward and landed on the ground behind him hard. His cane toppled and bounced on the ground out of reach, and Banks might a small yelp sound before running to cower behind the necromancer.

When he opened his eyes, nothing was there. Nothing out of the ordinary, that is. His head beat like the drum of a march, and he groaned slightly through a self-satisfied smile. "I thought that might work," he breathed.

"Thought what might work?!" Maka swung her staff down to aim the butt of it at the center of his forehead. A good strike should knock him out if he went weird again. "What the hell just happened?"

He decided move to get up. He assumed the woman was probably ready to strike him down as soon as he tried to do so. "I needed a way to connect with you," he tried to explain. "I very much doubt you would've held my hand or anything more than that, so I brought us together by the form of a fight. Elissa is bound to you now, which means that she's going to protect you. At least that's how I interpret it. When I attacked you, I was attacking her, and she did not take to kindly to it."

He sighed out a shuddering breath. "For the briefest moment I went black, I mean truly black, and I could see her. I could actually see something: her and nothing else. She said help me, and something about.. why do you hate who you are. I don't quite understand it yet, but it might be a start."

Maka's legs shook slightly. "Don't—don't ever do that again," she managed to rasp out. Her staff was practically vibrating in her hands her grip was so tight. "This is...it isn't your problem. I don't know what she meant, I don't know what she's talking about, I don't know why she could see what happened—"

She snapped her mouth shut. That was more than she'd intended to reveal.

Aspen sat in silence as the necromancer attempted to compose herself. Once the tension settled, he raised his hands in quiet surrender. "I won't," he assured her. "You have my word."

He could still sense the woman's staff hover just above him. "Mind if I get up?"

Still breathing heavily, Maka considered that for a very long moment. Slowly, she raised her staff and took a step back.

Her eyes flickered passed him, landed on Elissa. The girl was pale, even for a ghost, and her eyes seemed sunken and tired. "I've helped you. Please. Please, I just want to go home...

Her nerves raw, emotions she'd been suppressing for years reawakened by the possession and now taunted by the current situation stirring in her breast, Maka actually whimpered and took another step back.

"I don't know how," she whispered, staring at her. "Just--just leave me alone, please, why don't any of you ever leave me alone?!"

Was she talking to him? The ghost? Both? He couldn't be sure, and he really didn't care. She was allowing him back to his feet so he took the chance.

"So," he began dusting himself off. "What did you mean by 'she could see what happened?' See what exactly?"

Eye still on the spirit, Maka answered automatically, unthinking, "She was in my head, she saw when everything went wrong, when I--"

Abruptly coming back to herself, she snapped her mouth closed and set her jaw. "Nothing," she growled, swinging her staff sharply up onto her back again. "Doesn't matter. The possession shocked her as much as me, I think, she was just...confused."

Nothing my blind ass.

"Okay," he spun on his heel to walk in the direction in which they had been going. "I won't force you to talk about it if you don't want to."

Silent and wary, Maka waited a few moments before following a few steps behind him once again. Her lips pressed tight together as she scowled down at the ground, almost as though she was trying to will the path beneath their feet to quicken.

What little path there was, at any rate. They'd left any main roads behind the day before, and were not essentially taking game trails through the highlands.

Aspen let silence fill the air between their strides for a little while. I enjoyed the light breeze on his face, the sounds and smells of the surrounding woods and rustling leaves, and the stillness of the quiet.

He didn't see any point in trying to continue the conversation, at least not right now. Every time he tried to get her to open up even the slightest she quickly shot him down. The conscious in him told him to press, told him to find a way to help her, but the man on the run said just let her be and let her get him somewhere safely so he can figure out his next steps.

"...How bad is it?" he finally asked. "My bounty? How many people know?"

He had been in such a rush and panic to do anything since it happened, he hadn't had time to really sit and think about the gravity of it all.

Maka shrugged, remembered he couldn't see it, then huffed and muttered, "I saw the poster for it in that inn. I have no idea if anyone outside your town has any idea."

Another shrug and she added, "I've seen higher. I don't think it was the families of the men you killed asking for a bounty, that usually drives the price up."

Abruptly, he stopped walking. He sighed and let his free hand hover just enough for Banksy to find his fingertips with the top of his head. "My life will never be the same," he muttered dishearteningly. "...What have I done?"

There was a hint of panic in his voice, and a sickening twisting in his chest.

"Killed three people," Maka replied mercilessly. Well--without any emotion, really. True, she was hardly sympathetic, but her tone didn't exactly hold condemnation anymore either.

"You'll probably be fine." She quickened her pace to nudge him out of the way of a fallen branch, then slowed down to walk behind him again. "Plenty of people are killers and get just far away enough to live a life again. You can never go back, but..." She shrugged. "Better than a noose."

"Right. I'll be fine." He didn't seem to agree. His life as a much sought-after professor at the Academy was not built overnight. His close friendships were not bonded in the course of a day and that void couldn't easily be filled.

"Well. This fucking sucks," he said, losing his well-mannered approach to everything in one short statement. "

Maka didn't respond to that. She didn't see much point-- it wasn't as though she could tell him he was wrong.

Truthfully, she still didn't hold all that much sympathy for him; as far as she was concerned, this was a perfect example of what happened when mages relied too much on their magic and never mastered any real degree of control.

Which was exactly why she'd been in his classroom in the first place.

Still, while she was hardly the politest person, she at least had enough tact not to say that out loud. So she just kept walking in silence, shifting her grip on her staff slightly so she could grasp more toward the center, where the hidden blades met.

His exhale was buried in defeat.

"I can't outrun this," he breath. "Can't explain it. Can't defend it. Can't... Living on the run is no way to live at all."

Almost as if to accept the inevitable immediately, he breathed out the rest of his tension and turned to face her. "Take me somewhere private. Somewhere inside where we can't be heard. I have an idea," he told her. "I'm going to help you if it's the last thing I do before turning myself in."

"Wait, what?"

She stopped, turning to face him with wide eyes and an arched brow. "Just like that? You've spent the last twelve hours jabbering about how unfair this is and how you're innocent, now you're just...giving up? And what the hells do you mean you have an idea?!"