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71. Are you an artist?
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 11:19:42 +0000 UTCI took a deep breath and looked around. I could sense that Liam’s soul was somewhere around here, but now, out of astral projection, I couldn’t see it.
I tried to get up, but the familiar sensation of wearing my own body wrong assaulted me. I grimaced as my hands and legs moved slightly off.
After getting back my bearings, I released Liam’s body from the bindings and rolled it onto the floor. Hopefully, he would not mind a few bruises, as right now, I had nowhere near good enough balance to carry him.
I then grabbed his leg and dragged the comatose boy to where I saw his soul after we exited the cage. His spirit should repossess the body automatically.
After doing that, I sat down and waited for him to wake up. It took another fifteen minutes before his eyes opened.
“Welcome back,” I said as he slowly rose.
“Am I really back?” he asked, looking around. “Was that some sort of a dream? A nightmare?”
“No, you summoned a ghost, got yourself dragged into its lair and locked in a cage, and then we ran from ghost rats. But you are back now. So no harm done, eh?”
He turned to me, clearly confused, but then his eyes opened wide. “Daniel. Is he–?”
“He’s all right. Give yourself some time to get used to your own body, and then we will go downstairs.”
I sat on the bed, slowly readjusting to my own flesh, as Liam was trying to stand up. It took around fifteen minutes for him to get used to being back in his body before we walked downstairs, where Ophelia and Daniel were sitting.
“So how did it–” Daniel started the moment he saw me, but then froze when he saw who was walking next to me. “Liam!” he shouted and bolted for his brother.
The two boys fell into each other’s arms as tears started to stream down their faces.
Ophelia smiled at them, while I looked at the spirit cage I had just earned with the same warm smile.
After the two finally separated, I turned to them to get their attention.
“So, about my payment...”
“Oh, right,” Daniel said. “How much will it be?”
“For the whole fight and then the trip into the ghost’s lair, it will be around ten thousand dollars. And since this is not a Vatican-authorized exorcism, you would need to cover the cost in obols yourself,” I said.
“But we… we don’t have that much money,” Daniel stammered. “And what are obols?”
“No worries,” I smiled. “Let me take this,” I said, showing him the spirit cage. “Also, release the rights to all remains of the ghost to me, and I will consider this payment.”
Ophelia looked at me with raised eyebrows. She didn’t understand exactly what I was asking, but she should have had enough knowledge to know I was practically robbing them.
Daniel just shrugged. “I mean… sure, take them.”
I smiled at him. This was a nice haul.
“Oh, and Liam?” I asked, turning to the younger boy. “Are you an artist?”
“Huh?”
“Are you an artist, or are you planning on becoming one?”
“I mean, I wanted to be, but art doesn’t pay the bills, according to our mom. Why?”
“But if you could pay the bills, would you want to?” I pressed.
The boy furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Good,” I smiled. I didn’t know anyone who could train an artist, and my family didn’t have any empathy-related techniques, but if I ever found one, I think the boy had some talent.
“So what now?” asked Daniel.
“What what now?” I asked back.
“I… I don’t know. So magic is a thing, right? So, do we now have to swear an oath, or do we become part of a group that's in the know? What happens now?” Daniel asked carefully.
I chuckled at that. “No. If you try to tell anyone about the experience, I will deny everything, not like anyone would believe you in the first place.” I then looked toward Liam. “But, becoming part of a secret society isn't out of the question. We will see.”
Liam scrunched his nose as if he smelled something bad.
“I don't want anything to do with whatever that was.” He spat.
“Sure, right now. But do you think you will be able to stop your curiosity? I bet in a week you will start looking for some answers.”
Before any more questions could be asked, I raised my hand and stopped them. I then left them an enigmatic message, saying “all in good time” and that they “would be contacted,” and made my exit without providing any further explanation.
Like a proper wizard.
I could have stayed longer and explained more, but right now, there was one thing on my mind, and I wanted to finally get to it, as quickly as possible.
Third circle.
Once outside with Ophelia, I approached the blob of magic floating in the air. I got what I needed and sooner than expected. That, and a spirit cage, which further cemented my plans. But first things first. I needed to get the mana. I stretched out my hand and absorbed the blob. Immediately, my orbit wanted to solidify, so I had to keep the new magic separate before I reattuned it.
We made our way to the pontoon, only to find out that the water level had dropped significantly, so we had to walk, carrying the thing most of the time. The whole process was tiring and annoying, as by the end, both of us were wet from head to toe.
We finally made it to the car and headed home.
“So how was it?” I asked after some time of driving in silence.
“Interesting,” replied Ophelia. “The battle was amazing, although I didn’t understand much of what happened.”
“You’ll get there, don’t worry. You do have a knack for investigation, I can tell you that much.”
“Thanks.” Ophelia smiled.
“So, was the exorcism how you imagined it?”
Ophelia thought for a second before answering. “Well, it was fascinating, but I’m not gonna lie to you. When we put on the restraints, I thought we would be standing with crosses and praying over him. You would ask for the spirit’s name and all that.”
I laughed lightly at her vision. The blending of pop culture with actual magic was interesting to see. And although silly, it was kind of correct.
“Well, it might surprise you, but that is not that far from the way exorcism can go.”
“So praying over Liam or the house was an option?” she asked, surprised.
“Depends on the haunting stage and the spirit, but overall, yes. Some of the passages in the mortal Bible describing exorcisms are based on the real thing. ‘But if it is by the Spirit of God that I drive out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.’ Matthew 12:28, if my memory serves me right. The actual mechanism is much more complicated, but using Christian God’s power to drive out a spirit is one way of doing it.”
“So demons actually can't stand prayer?”
“Not exactly. Did you read about true names already?”
Ophelia shook her head.
“Well, in the short version, when you have a spark, you don’t have a true name. That is because we can change, become entirely different people in our lifetimes, so there is no name in any language that can fully describe us. Maybe aside from Abyssal, but no one can speak a true name in that. But spiritual beings lose the ability to change and gain a true name in the process, granting them power. However, in turn, that name can be used to call or command them, in oversimplification. So what you do in a classic exorcism is try to learn at least part of it.”
“So the whole ‘reveal your name, demon!’ speech is a thing?” Ophelia asked with some humor, parodying a commanding voice.
“Yes. When expelling a possession, you want to make the host’s body as unpleasant to inhabit for the demon as possible so that it loses its grip on the soul. Once the owner’s spirit gains back some control, you start forcing it to reveal its name. With two souls in the body, the mind will be confused. It will try to answer, but probably stumble upon the true name, similarly to how you introduced yourself after the ritual when you panicked. The host should reveal part of the demon’s true name, and then you can use it to drive out or seal the creature. The entire process is about balancing the spirits so that the host remains partially conscious and doesn’t recall their name from memory, yet is aware enough to tap into the demon’s knowledge. The further into possession, the easier it is to learn the name, but harder to get the original spirit to come to the surface.”
“Cool. Will we do that at some point?”
“Probably, but without the prayer. Attacking the soul and mind would be my preferred solution. Any way that hurts the demon will work.”
“Still sounds interesting.”
I turned to her with my eyebrows raised.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m happy you find fighting demons interesting.”
Ophelia froze for a second, but then just shrugged, accepting that part of her.
I nodded my head in approval and went back to looking at the road.
“But there’s something I don’t understand,” Ophelia finally broke the silence. “Who wrote Ester’s poem on the box?”
That was a good question.
“Guess.”
Ophelia rolled her eyes. “I’m tired, can’t you just give me the answer for once?”
“Nope,” I replied, shooting her a grin, which earned me another eye roll.
“Was it someone in the mansion? Like the servant boy’s mother to communicate with Ester after her death?”
“No, your assumption works only if the servant knew magic.”
“She could have read the occult works of Ester’s father?”
“Not bad logic, but doubtful. She would need talent and hours upon hours of study. Guess again.”
“Hmmm. Ester herself?”
“Close, and correct in a way…”
Ophelia furrowed her eyebrows and looked out the window, thinking.
“Think about the POEM,” I gave her a clue.
She turned to me. “You said magic liked poems. Was it mana?”
“Bingo. In a way, at least. When something becomes an object of haunting or an anchor, it transforms. This case is unusual because the anchor was inside rather than the box itself, but it was enough to elicit a reaction. Whenever an anchor like that is created, there are changes to it, usually related to the ghost.”
I paused, looking at the GPS, and took a turn before continuing.
“For grudges, it’s usually a simple change to the atmosphere around the anchor, creepy feeling, some strange phenomena happening around, maybe the plushie you always hugged to sleep now has lively, strange eyes, etc. For obsessions, it’s usually related to how you summon them. The favorite toy suddenly stands out, is always clean, and invites you to play with it, and so on. In Ester’s case, it was a poem about becoming her friend and talking to her.”
Ophelia nodded slightly and then pulled out her notebook. I looked curiously at the rows of neat writing. That’s a scholarship student, all right.
We drove for many hours, finally getting back to our homes. I left Ophelia at her place and went back to mine. Slowly, the tiredness was getting to me as I dragged my feet over the stairs, ready to get some sleep.
Before I knew what was happening, the door swung open, with Miss Helen standing in it.
“Hello, Steve,” she said with a smile.
“Hello, Miss Helen,” I said, locking my eyes with the woman who was still smiling at me.
“Were you looking for my cat?”
“No–yes,” I corrected myself as she looked at my soaked trousers. “I thought he was down a well, but couldn’t find him. He must be under your bed.”
The woman thanked me and closed her door. I smiled and went back to my apartment in a slightly better mood.
Now all that was left were preparations for my ascension.
