The world is yet dying. You should know this. We are ruled by the occulted. Who are the occulted? Those that hide behind the veils known as the states and corporations. The true Wizard-Kings, the God-Beings that have cut the Utter Islands into pieces and rule over it through an invisible hand, for in this era of Liberalism they do not care about the truth. Only optics. Be careful: you will find the invisible hand of the Wizard-Kings everywhere. Their greatest magick is the Market. Through Capitalism they fuel their might.

Mutakasa's Letters to Serin. Known madman.

They made their way back to the house, the moon crested upon the night sky's waves. It

Raxri noticed the crescent moon hanging upon the gloom. The Horned Moon...

"Does the Horned Moon mean that she might not attack tonight?" Raxri asked the rest of the crew.

Akazha nodded. "That is how it should be." She sighed and side-eyed Raxri. "Don't play lies with me, Raxri. Were you sure you saw the woman floating right above me?"

Raxri blinked. Why would I lie about that? "Yes." They nodded, a hint of confusion in their tone. "It was very creepy. Her nose was very close to yours. They were completely still. Inhumanely so."

Akazha bit the inside of her mouth to keep from shuddering out of pure fear and despair. She coughed and said: "Kkm. Very well, that is enough."

Sintra Kennin walked beside them. He carried with him a bundle of fish tied together by hemp rope. Freshly caught, just that day. He planned on cooking it over a fire and eat as a pre-sleep snack. "Is the witch scared of a ghost?"

Akazha's eyebrow twitched. "Sintra Kennin, with all due respect, I have beaten you once in a fight and I can do it again. Please, forgive me, but do not deign to implant such thoughts into your mind."

Sintra Kennin suppressed a smirk. Raxri blinked, almost laughing.

This kind of volatility was not new of Akazha to be sure, but this kind of defensiveness to something so innocuous...

Raxri thought: I do not blame her. If I were to be in the vicinity of such a horrifying ghast... Though I suppose I was. Perhaps Akazha simply has a phobia of ghosts? Raxri argued with themself wondering whether they should ask this or not. Unfortunately for Raxri, the urge to ask and an insatiable curiosity led to doom. "Akazha, are you afeared of ghosts?"

"Not afeared. I am used to seeing ghosts. I have my Third Eye blasted wide open. Just, the thought of not being safe in my own quarters..." Akazha shuddered.

The trio turned a corner and descended down to the port, and then eventually, to their lodgings.

Raxri, ever the helpful, said: "Ah, well if that's the case, Akazha. Why not sleep in my quarters for the next few nights? We only have two nights left, yes? Before we exit? Might as well."

Akazha laughed. "Ha! Look at you. Trying to get clever I see."

Raxri tilted their head to the side, genuinely curious. "Not clever. I am simply wishing to help you?"

Akazha shrugged. "You do not need to do so. Leave me out of your mind. I will be fine."

Raxri nodded, affirmative. "All right! If you say so."

They arrived at their lodging and immediately retreated to their quarters.

Akazha returned to her bed that night. She had shorn herself of her clothing. Her sleeping drapes were nothing but a simple tube skirt and a kemben around her chest. She lay down upon the bed--vigorously fluffed, protected by a kulambo--and uttered her evening mantras. At the end of it, she breathed out, uttered a protective mantra, and lay down.

All this work of ghosts and magick truly tires one out. How unfortunate that I was to see achi Angko here of all places. She's a tricky and annoying one, that one. It had been quite some time since she'd seen her achi so she wasn't aware if Angko had changed at all. Apparently she had not. She was the same upbeat--way too upbeat wizard aspirant that she had been all those years ago. Judging from how she carries herself, she knows a bit in the ways of the sword art. Especially with the giant sword she carries on her back. I wonder how she uses it? It's far too long to be used normally. Perhaps she uses it simply as a focus for psionic and magick energies?

She tossed and turned in bed. She could not shake the feeling that if she opened her eyes, there would be a that patayenak floating above her, face completely in front of hers, ready to engulf her. Her nerves frayed. Damn this. Anxiety again. She couldn't control it without a smoke, but she didn't want to smoke. She didn't want to meditate either, that could cause her not to be able to sleep at all, and she didn't want to miss sleep for tonight.

She couldn't take it. She ripped her eyes open and saw--

--nothing. Just the ceiling of the kulambo she laid beneath. Still, the anxiety crawled up her spine like a spider of ice. She took her blanket and pillow and left the kulambo. What am I doing? I had no problem at all when I was living alone. There were more ghosts out in the hinterlands than here! Why am I... so anxious?

Was she becoming dependent on connection? She shook her head. No, that can't be right. That can't be it. I can't be having that, not right now. Not anymore.

Raxri Uttara. The name echoed in her mind. Turmoil gripped her heart. What was she to do?

She'll figure it out when they have to cross that bridge. She can sense Raxri's burgeoning power now. No doubt if she lets it go unchecked, Raxri will quickly re-attain any enlightenment and any power they had lost in the beginning. Akazha did not know what to think about that.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

One thing at a time, Akazha, she thought, remembering the words of her guro. Focus on the things that'll make you happy. Like learning that new martial art from Captain Ampalila. Yes.

Before she knew it, she was in front of Raxri's door. She breathed. Might as well. Just for tonight. She looked over her shoulder and saw a shadow looking at her from the corner of her eye. It stood, straight-stock, like a tree.

Akazha blinked. The shadow was no longer there. It was as if they were never there.

She felt something walk behind her.

*What is this house...? It shields the malignant spirits even during a Horned Moon...?

Is that why the rent is so low?

Akazha knocked on the door, uttering a protective mantra. She felt a subtle shield emanate from her, keeping any malevolent spirits at bay.

Raxri had returned quickly to their room and set forth to doing their nightly meditative practices. Something to keep their mind sharp, like doing exercises but for the brain. After a moment, they stood and looked out of the window.

There was a woman looking out to the river, staying by the shadow of a tree. She did not have any hair. She was completely shorn of hair upon her crown. She wore the basic wear of a peasant. A weaver. She dressed humbly, it seems.

Suddenly the woman turned around. Raxri's blood ran cold: the woman had no face at all, completely. Her throat was slashed open, the cut dragging down the middle of her chest to her groin area. She was completely empty. Maggots writhed in the flesh of her corpse. Her fisherman's doublet was similarly ripped open: her desiccated breasts swung.

The ghost darted out of sight and Raxri ripped their eyes away from the window. They began chanting a mantra again, to calm themselves, and to provide an aura of protection.

Raxri steeled themself. Looked again.

The woman was crawling on all fours toward Raxri, moving across the landscape at an unnatural speed.

"Enlightened help me!" Raxri turned and leapt for Puksa just as the faceless woman leaped through the open window. Why didn't I close the window! Anxiety and fear lanced through Raxri as they spun around, Puksa in hand, and performed the cut they knew the most in hand, a double-cut with a spin of the wrist. The first cut missed completely, but the second cut sliced cleanly through the ghost woman's neck.

Gore and viscera showered upon Raxri. Rendered speechless by fear, Raxri almost screamed out when their door knocked.

Raxri expanded their awareness, tried to see if they could feel Force of the one on the other side--the ghosts had a different feeling Force after all. Raxri sensed a familiar burgeoning of will, a bright white pureflame.

Akazha? Raxri leapt out and removed the viscera from their body and ripped the door open. "Akazha!"

"Let me in." Without another word, Akazha stepped in, turned, and closed the door. When she turned again she screamed when she saw the faceless ghost writhing on the floor, moving as if fast-forwarding, fidgeting and twitching like a spider lost of all blood.

"It's all right, I've slain her!" Raxri said, trying to calm Akazha down.

"No you haven't," said Akazha, suddenly steeling herself. She looked around for a leaf of paper and immediately etched down a protective mantra, creating a talisman. She made three: slapped one on the door, another on the window, and then another on the corpse, which she begged Raxri to take and throw out of the window.

Raxri had no other recourse, of course. They did exactly that. Viscera and gore upon their body, now. I need to bathe!

"What's happening?"

"The ghosts have triangulated on our position, somehow." Akazha fell down onto Raxri's bed, heaving quickly.

"Triangulated? They're... attacking us?"

"Apparently so!" A loud thudding. "Did you know that 10 joss for a night is spectacularly low rent for a capitalist town such as this?"

"Truly?" Raxri looked at the door. Someone's face pressed against the wood, impossibly. But the face immediately dissipated when it the palm leaf talisman fluttered in the wind. "These are truly ghosts?"

"Ghosts in urban areas are more vengeful than those in hinterlands and wildernesses," said Akazha. "Gods, and I do not have the Spirit Subduing Art either. Curses."

"Why are they assaulting us?"

"I've no bloody idea, Raxri!" She mopped her face. More thudding, this time coming from the window. "This house... I think it's exceptionally haunted. A wellspring of cursed energy. We're not supposed to be in this house and that's why it's so low-rent."

Raxri managed to get the last drop of viscera off of them, though they sacrificed a perfectly good batik cloth in doing so. "Wait. What about Sintra Kennin?" Outside, the sounds of thudding (imagine someone rapidly bashing their head against the door), the sounds of scratching the floors with steel nails, the sound of low ambient growling, the mantra of beasts.

"I think Sintra Kennin should be fine," said Akazha. She was lying. She did not know if he would be fine. "Considering he's a Spirit Prince and all. They probably don't prey on him like they're preying on us."

"Still, we should try and seek him out. He might be in trouble!" Raxri stepped forward toward the door.

"He'll be fine!" screamed out Akazha. "He can handle himself in a fight and can change shape. We're the ones under-equipped to handle this right now."

Raxri blinked. "What about the salts and the oils that you bought from the night market?"

"Still upstairs," said Akazha, mopping her face in frustration. "I'm not going back out there again, and you're not leaving me alone. I don't have the magicks to deal with ghosts."

How selfish can you be? Raxri was ready to argue with Akazha to try and get her to approve of them going out to look for Sintra Kennin. Sure, Sintra could handle themself pretty well in a fight. And considering that they were Spirit Royalty, they could probably handle ultranatural matters like this with better skill than they at that moment. But Raxri could not shake the feeling that if they weren't together, something bad was going to happen to one of them.

But when Raxri turned, they saw Akazha looking horribly vulnerable, raw, against the wall behind her. She looked scared. Somehow. Akazha? Scared? But she could handle everything.

Raxri swallowed their pride. Raxri accepted Akazha's reasoning. Raxri chose to trust in both Akazha and Sintra Kennin. They said: "Don't worry, Akazha. I'll stay."

"Stay," said Akazha, as if a mantra to herself.

A moment. In the silence, a blade cutting through tender silk. A softness so present one could burst it like a bubble with a word.

And so Raxri stayed quiet.

Akazha swallowed the bubble: "I'll perform a protective ritual to keep them at bay. It should last until the end of the morning."

Raxri nodded. "Right. Of course. What do you need, Akazha."

"Nothing, not yet. Light some incense for me." Raxri heard Akazha mumble under her breath: "If I was entered into the Spirit-Subduing Mandala I wouldn't have to worry about this." Raxri did as Akazha commanded. Three incense sticks lit at three points around Akazha. Akazha, cross-legged, sitting in the lotus position, began chanting. At different points of the mantra, she would change her hands into different mudras, invoking great power. Invoking magickal protection to erupt from her heart.

Raxri could feel it. It washed over them like a veil. It was power. True magick. Something I knew I could do in the past...

After a few more moments, Akazha finished the chanting with a loud snap of her fingers, and let that resonate for a few more moments. She meditated in silence.

The defensive measures seemed to work: there was no more thudding, no more sounds of scratching, no more low growls.

Raxri's eyes lit up. Did it work?

Akazha opened her eyes, and rose to a stand by levitating herself to her feet.

"There. We should be fine for the night--"

An ear-piercing shriek cut through the night. Right outside Raxri's room.

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