there is no joy in it: having to use the souls of the dead to sustain her existence. though no choice of her own, when the ogress urasue defiled kikyĆ's grave to return her to the living once more, it left no other option. such is the existence of a specter, of someone who was once human and now can only ever masquerade as one. no amount of good done by her hands can change the fact that she must deny a soul the peace they are granted upon death. not that such is her intention, trying to make-up for it. it simply is what is. there's nothing else to it.
and now that she finds herself breathing once more, kikyĆ wonders if she ever truly will rest or if she is cursed to lead this false existence for as long as the stars turn.
the night is peaceful. it is the only time of day where the city falls quiet and that which cannot show itself in the light can roam freely. the forest of airaisal was, for the time being, her chosen place to reside. and it is here, under the blanket of night, that a wandering soul finds her once more. for now, her body is fine. it is in no need of being replenished and for awhile, the priestess lets the white orb hover mere centimeters above her palm, bathed in the gentle white light of the departed.
she is not alone in this. there is another nearby, moving closer to her position with a purpose. eyes that had been closed in quiet thought open slowly, roaming over the trees until they land on the form of a woman. and all it took was once glance for kikyĆ to know.
" Have you come to collect it?"
@snowsleeves
