"…Who are you?"
The question struck Neria like a crack of thunder.
Her glow flickered.
Her thoughts scattered all at once, crashing into one another in panicked confusion. For one dreadful heartbeat, she believed the impossible had happened....that someone could actually see her.
That she had been seen.
Her mouth opened instinctively, but no sound came out. She stared back at the maid, frozen in place, her translucent form hovering directly in front of the woman's wide, fearful eyes.
No… no, this isn't happening.
The maid's pupils trembled slightly, as though she were trying to focus on something that didn't quite exist.
Neria's thoughts spiraled. What do I say? Do I apologize? Do I scream? Do I pretend I'm a hallucination?
Before she could make a decision.....
"Kara?"
A calm voice came from behind Neria.
Kara blinked.
Her gaze slid past Neria's glowing form.....straight through her.
"Yes?" Kara answered shakily, turning toward the doorway.
Neria slowly twisted around.
Another maid stood there, arms folded, her expression stern and unimpressed.
"Why are you staring into empty space?" the older maid asked. "Have you finally frightened yourself with those ghost stories?"
Kara frowned, unsettled. "I… I thought someone was standing there."
The older maid sighed. "You're shaken because of the kitchen incident. Pull yourself together."
Relief washed over Neria so strongly she nearly drifted into the ceiling beams.
She didn't see me.
Kara rubbed her arms nervously. "It felt real…"
"Feelings aren't proof," the older maid replied sharply. "Finish arranging the plates. Lord Ravon despises disorder."
"Yes, Madam Elin," Kara said quickly.
Elin gave the kitchen room one last suspicious glance before turning away.
Neria drifted backward silently, her heart racing with a fear she shouldn't have been capable of feeling.
"That was… far too close," she whispered.
She looked down at her faintly glowing hands.
Still invisible. Still a ghost.
Good.
She wasn't ready to be acknowledged.....not by this world, not by anyone.
Or...was she??
The maids returned to their work, though the air remained tense.
"I'm telling you," one whispered, "the mansion feels different when he's here."
"Colder," another murmured.
"Quieter."
Neria hovered above them, listening.
Kara lowered her voice. "Do you think the rumors are true?"
Elin didn't pause in her folding. "Rumors are just fear looking for a mouth."
"But they say Lord Ravon is...."
"A demon?" Elin finished flatly.
Silence followed.
Neria frowned. Again with that word.
Elin continued, voice calm but sharp. "Whatever he is, he is our master. Curiosity will only cost you your position....or even worse."
Neria smirked faintly. "Funny. Curiosity is literally the only thing keeping me sane."
She drifted away quietly.
The mansion eventually settled into silence.
Candles burned low. Footsteps faded. Doors closed one by one.
Neria wandered until she found a quiet corner near a tall window overlooking the gardens. She sat....if floating inches above the floor counted as sitting.....and let herself grow still.
Ghosts didn't sleep.
But they could rest.
Her glow dimmed slightly as she allowed her thoughts to slow.
Her mind wandered back to the urban world. To Mira's laugh. To neon lights and traffic noise. To a life that now felt like someone else's memory.
"I really shouldn't have gone out that night," she murmured.
The mansion did not answer.
****""""
Morning in Eldoria arrived quietly.
Light filtered through tall windows, pale and cool, brushing against stone walls and heavy curtains. The mansion stirred awake.
Neria felt it before she saw it—the shift in energy, the subtle hum of movement.
Maids hurried through corridors. Doors opened. Voices murmured.
She straightened instinctively.
"Oh," she muttered. "Morning already?"
She floated toward the grand hall just as Ravon emerged from his chamber.
He looked no different from the night before....immaculate, composed, distant. Dark attire fit him perfectly, as though tailored to his presence alone.
He didn't speak.
Didn't pause.
Just walked.
Neria's eyes followed him automatically.
Where are you going so early, cold lord?
She hesitated.
Then shrugged.
"Well," she said softly, "it's not like I have a schedule."
I don't.
She floated after him.
Outside, a carriage waited....black wood, golden trimming, pulled by two powerful horses pawing at the ground impatiently.
Servants bowed as Ravon stepped forward.
"Prepare the route," the coachman said respectfully.
Ravon gave a brief nod and entered the carriage without a word.
The door remained open for a moment.
Neria hovered beside it, staring inside.
Her reflection shimmered faintly against the polished interior.
She paused.
This is probably a bad idea.
She looked back toward the mansion.
But… when have I ever listened to that thought?
Before she could second-guess herself—
She floated inside.
The carriage door closed.
Neria blinked.
She was inside.
Inside the carriage.
With Ravon.
Her eyes widened.
"…I just did that," she whispered.
She looked at him.....sitting calmly across from where she hovered, gaze fixed ahead, expression unreadable.
Her glow dimmed instinctively.
She pressed herself closer to the side of the carriage, heart racing.
Okay. Calm down. He can't see you. He didn't see you last night. He won't see you now.
The carriage lurched forward.
The horses began to move.
Neria swallowed.
"Guess I'm going on an adventure," she murmured.
The wheels rolled over stone, carrying them away from the mansion.....toward whatever awaited next.
And for the first time since her death, Neria felt something close to excitement.