No, no, no. Her mind had been racing since the fight in Itjivut took place. Since she saw her. But that couldn’t have been the truth, her sister was dead! Dead and cold, cold and buried. Her body laid to rest and lowered into the cold earth below to rest forever. It wasn’t possible that she saw her there, no it had to be a hallucination, a daydream, a nightmare, anything but reality. The reality was that she got her killed, and for what? Power? What good was power if she couldn’t wield it to protect the ones closest to her. The few and far that were left, she wanted to use it to strengthen herself up enough to not be useless to them. Instead, the double edge hit her and she was short one living sibling. But if she was to believe what her eyes saw, then Misty wasn’t laid to rest. But…how?
The thoughts disturbed her greatly as she made her travel to the cemetery. She had to convince herself that something out there was screwing with her mind and that she was just going crazy over the guilt. Paige was growing tired of feeling like this, to have a bit of hope dangling in front of her face in a time where she had to let go of her sister. Why were the fates being so fickle with her? Was this her punishment for all the sins she underwent? She felt sick to her stomach with each step drawing her closer to her grave. She had waited until the undertaker and the others had left for the night before she crept into the unholy and tainted grounds, armed with some things to help her in this quest, particularly a lantern and an old, rusty spade. The dim light guided her ahead, helping her to avoid stepping on any graves and around the tombstones as she didn’t wish to offend the dead. “It can’t be possible. No, no, no”, she kept muttering to herself before she arrived at the spot where Misty’s body was last seen for certain. Placing the lantern down nearby, Paige thrusted the spade into the burial site and started shoveling. The further she dig, the more anxious she became in wanting to be done with this to ease her mind. The task felt like it took forever as she picked up clump by clump of soil and rock and tossed it aside, repeating the motion over and over even as she felt herself tire from the manual labor. No, it had to end here. She couldn’t let this madness rule her until the end of her days. She was in a trance like state as she continued, up until she hit the casket. Shoveling enough of the dirt away to reveal the top and the latches, her hands shakingly moved to undo them and flung it open. Peeking inside, Paige’s face dropped at the sight of an empty casket and frantically moved away from the grave. Her voice was lost from the shock of the situation.

How…why…

She didn’t have the wrong casket, that was exactly where her body had been laid to rest, but there was nothing inside it. Had some sick, depraved person took her body to do who knows what with it? Paige felt the place spinning around her as a more troubling thought hit her. What if…what if Misty was alive after all? Had she unknowingly buried her sister alive? Moving over to a nearby tree, she shrank down and brought her knees up against her chest and hugged them tightly as her mind sought for some sort of reason behind this all.

My vacation in Revaliir was anything but linear after my encounter with Naota in that Egjoran ballroom. I went wherever I wanted whenever I wanted, and often not using physical means of travel nor objective reasoning to guide my path. After Hiadref's siege at the hands of Gifre, for example, I gate travelled to Perditi Cemetery: going from frigid cold to gloomy darkness. My reasoning was absent in this decision, because it was one of pure whimsy. I simply possessed a liking for the dark corners of the world at the time, and had gone there to converse with ghosts over dinner.
 
By the time I arrived, the undertaker and staff were already retired for the night. There was a woman by the name of Paige Wintercrest sitting against a tree in the part of the cemetery I chose to visit. She seemed preoccupied with something when I saw her, enough to give her an expression I recognized all too well.
 
"I know that look," I said from the darkness as I walked into her line of sight. I carried a lit jack-o'-lantern to illuminate my darkly clothed figure, and the ethereal blue light of the flames fit nicely with the surrounding landscape. "You're seeking answers to an impossible riddle: something that haunts you and yet niggles at your curiosity. Perhaps something to do with the open grave, but I won't pry unless you're willing to share. I'm just here to have my dinner."
 
My index finger on the hand holding the lantern pointed toward the freshly dug grave as I was speaking, but only briefly. Most of my actions following those remarks were actually magical ones. Stonewall and earth weaving constructed a basic table and implements from the ground, while a create food spell conjured up a sizeable feast for me. A 5 lbs steak and 4 servings of mixed vegetables cooked in olive oil materialized on the stone plate I had constructed, all before I saw down to eat from it with a noblewoman's manners. The light of the jack-o'-lantern illuminated my spread once I set it down on the same table, and did its fair share of making me seem otherworldly despite my refined dining habits.
 
"I can conjure something for you as well, if you wish. It's hard to think on an empty stomach, after all."

Perhaps maybe she was going mad after all. Everything she knew about Misty seemed to be a web woven of lies; was she dead or alive? Was Paige cracking under the pressure and the guilt for her actions? Did she really see her sister perish or was it all her imagination? Reason couldn’t help her fractured mind now, and as she sat beneath the tree, she wasn’t sure that it was helping her since her turning. Always the logical thinker of the Wintercrest siblings, Paige had that ripped away from her along with her former life. She was an abnormality even amongst her kind and the added on stress only worsen the situation.

Her eyes didn’t lie though, that was an empty grave that she stared wildly and searched frantically for the remains. But nothing was there, and she was sure that her sister’s body wasn’t stolen since the ground hadn’t been tampered with before now. Maybe it was all in her head after all, but that wouldn’t matter right now for a voice reached her from the dark. She barely lifted her gaze up, unsure as to whether it was an actual person or one of the rumored spirits that was said to haunt these grounds. When the light illuminated the woman’s body, she stared blankly at her for a moment or two. Was she just a figment of her imagination like everything else had seemed? In any case, she seemed to know what she was talking about and the hybrid remained in her spot, silent as she watched on.

The empty grave…

She averted her eyes from the mysterious woman and moved back to the grave. Swallowing hard, she felt pain in her chest as she continued to kill herself in trying to figure out what was going on with everything. The conjuring of the table and the food didn’t help to ease her as she shrank back. Was it possible that she could find some sort of help in merely talking about her problems? At this point, what else did she have to lose? That single thought etched in her head over and over until she slowly lifted herself up with the aid of the tree’s trunk before she moved over to the makeshift table. The smell of the food begun to remind her that she had gone without eating for a day or two now.

“Answer me this”, she said in a soft tone, her head hanging low and her ebony locks concealing much of her face. “What would you do if you could no longer tell reality from fantasy? That empty grave…I had thought that I had buried someone close that died because of me…and now I’ve been seeing a ghost of sorts scattered wherever I go. And to clear my mind, I thought to prove it reason by seeing her body there, but there is no one residing in it.” The description to her ordeal was rather vague, but she wasn’t sure what to make of this encounter, so she would play it safe and not reveal too much for now.

“This is a strange to dine, but you have your reasons.

Finally Paige rose her head enough to have cold blue eyes settle onto the woman. “Steak please…and make it bloody…”

Paige remained silent as the dead – as the saying goes – as I approached her from the darkness. She eventually spoke up about fantasy and reality just after I had finished pouring my tea, but I didn't answer her question for some time on this. Insanity isn't the easiest thing to diagnose, and I actually found her question amusing. After all, most people's understanding of reality was horribly skewed in the first place, so I considered most concepts of reality as fantasy anyway.
 
But rather than address this personal issue in my normally sardonic demeanor, I took some time to soften the blow. I had to remind myself that not everyone was as cold-hearted as myself, especially when that nature didn't do me any good. The hybrid had placed an order anyway, so I answered that call before the smirk on my face grew too large.
 
"One pound of flesh from a recently deceased cow coming right up." A plate, cutlery, goblet and chair immediately appeared on the far side of the table, each customized to Paige's proportions. Her ultra rare steak plopped onto the pewter plate shortly after its construction, quite bloody and looking more like a piece of cow carved off by a butcher for a dog rather than anything fit for human consumption. At least no one could ever accuse me of lying in that instant.
 
I didn't wait for my guest to partake of this meal for long, at least not silently. Just before she took her seat, I finally answered her initial question.
 
"Reality is a fanciful notion in the first place, my honored guest. Very few people are even aware of what true reality is, and they operate on their perceptions of it rather than actual truth: at least when it comes to navigating everyday life. Even the word truth is a funny one when it comes to sentient creatures, despite the fact that there is only one, absolute truth in any given situation. And in spite of how ludicrous the notion seems, both fantasy and reality are commonly interpreted rather than written in stone. In my case, I question both at regular intervals and rely on physical laws to guide my path." Finishing the last of my tea, I started pouring another cup before continuing my longwinded answer. "But philosophical debate aside, there's a saying that I think fits your predicament, spoken by a detective far removed from this world: when you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Setting my teapot down on the table again, I briefly pointed with my thumb toward the open grave to emphasize my next point. "I can see the empty grave as well as you, so, barring some magical interference, we have proof that the coffin is truly empty. If you can also prove that the person you're referring to was buried there, then their body was definitely removed at some point in such a way that the insides of the coffin are spotless. In your shoes, I'd start there rather than worrying about whether my reality is actually fantasy or vice versa."

She felt as if she could tear her hair straight from her head as the questions wouldn’t stop. As the doubt wouldn’t stop bothering her of her sister’s state of existence. Was she alive? Wasn’t she killed in that magical explosion? Had her body been the one to be buried in the first place? Did she get the burial site wrong. Over and over it continued to poke and prod her, and now it was even worse as that casket remained empty and her questions didn’t have precise answers. The strange woman here was a mystery herself- was she too just a figment of her overreacting imagination or just another consequence of her guilt.

Either way, she felt too tired of dealing with the mental stress and simply gave into being the lady’s guest at her makeshift table. Despite her way of announcing the meal, it didn’t bother Paige. If anything, the sight and smell of the blood covered hunk of meat was alluring to her wolven senses and it showed in her lingering gaze. Even so, she might have been a beast in heart, she was still a lady while in human form and she took her seat and reached for the fork and knife prepared for her. Before she could even make the first cut, her host voiced her opinion over her problems and she listened attentively. She spoke as if she had the age and experience of those that had lived far past their expectancies, which wasn’t entirely strange but still there was a vibe about her that was unsettling and distant.

Reality was something that she felt was far from her for so long, and yet it was possible that the one she was missing wasn’t as such at all. That she was living in what she could only think and hope was, perhaps to keep whatever bits of sanity she had left to anchor her down. Slowly her utensils rose and went to work on the steak, cutting it into bits of pieces before taking one and plopped it onto her mouth. The blood only added to the flavor in her opinion, chewing it as she continued to listen more.

When you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

That single thought echoed in her head and it made her pause for a few moments before taking on a new piece of her meal. There was something about it that seemed plausible- perhaps she had been looking at this ordeal all wrong. As painful as it was, her eyes rolled over to the gravesite and gave some more thought towards it. “There…was no smell.” Turning back to the woman, she continued to think about it and shook her head. “In my panic, I missed it. Her scent, there was nothing there but that of the earth.” If she were to go back to it, there would likely be no strands of her hair either in that case. As far as she knew, there wasn’t a body in there to begin with. Was she buried in another grave? No, that was the one she had witnessed being filled that horrid day. How clouded had her mind been ever since she thought she saw Misty’s death?

It was clear that her host was detached from the situation and thus was a far better judge in figuring this all out. There was no emotional attachment here for her so she was impartial in this, while it was clear that Paige hadn’t been this whole time. “Such things sound easy, but in my case, it’s hard.” She bit hard into some more of the steak and let it settle before continuing. “Reality and fantasy could be one and same for all I know. But you are right, I have to focus on the possibilities and not be sidetracked by the doubts.”

Taking the goblet into her hands, she was pleased with the taste of wine reaching her lips and mouth. At a time like this, she could use whatever she could get to calm her nerves. For that and the meal, she was grateful towards this woman. “May I be so bold to ask why you chose such scenery to eat dinner at?”

I must admit I was somewhat distracted when Paige was commenting on the advice I had given her. I had intended to have dinner alone so I could watch the night sky in peace, but was also not about to force a grieving person out of what amounted to public property. I sat with her, as was polite, and shared food, but I couldn't help the natural aloofness I gave off toward her as well as any number of strangers like her.

Throughout those initial moments, my guest depicted herself as the type of person who needed help but didn't want to ask for it. She was hinting at it – subconsciously, perhaps – while feasting on the raw beef I had conjured, but her plight did not really serve to move me. Truth be told, my mind wasn't even made up on what to do about her even after she asked why I was in the cemetery in the first place. The swarm of fireflies that suddenly began dancing off in the distance probably sufficed as an answer for that question, but I still explained further so as to buy time.

"Multiple reasons," I said while popping a caramelized Brussels sprout into my mouth. "I wanted to see the fireflies tonight, for one. Also, at my age, you tend to find more kinship among the dead than the living. I won't be here long, as I like to sleep in the comfort of my own home, but distance isn't really an issue for me; nor has it been for many years. So I go where my whims take me, which typically means away from society. "

A solution hit me then: one of sufficient neutrality to address my distraught guest. I had no interest in altruism so late at night, nor did I wish to profit off of someone's vulnerability when they had done me no harm. Yet that wasn't to say I couldn't let luck decide. My shoulders involuntarily shrugged with indifference as I thought of that, and I soon conjured a pair of die between my fingers.

"But enough about me. I've decided to play a game about you." I showed the trinkets to Paige, revealing that they were just common playing dice, and then placed them on the table between us. "I've no desire to profit off of your predicament, nor am I feeling particularly altruistic tonight. So we'll let luck decide. These die will determine whether or not I lend my expertise to you and your… cryptic past, if you'll excuse the pun. If they land even, I will help you. If they land odd, however, we shall simply part ways for the night."

Whether or not the woman in front of me agreed to the terms that instant, I don't remember. I had already made up my mind, and had rolled the dice without waiting for her response. The pieces clinked across the stone in that heavy atmosphere, eventually coming to a halt under the moonlight above. One decisively landed on 2, while the other lingered on an edge before landing on 4.

Paige had won, and decisively so.

I didn't initially act on my promise to her, however, choosing, instead, to finish the last couple bites of my dinner. But once I was done with that, I looked her square in the eye and congratulated her. "Luck seems to be on your side." My hand twirled a pewter knife as I spoke, and was quick to toss that implement into the nearby, open coffin once the niceties were done. There was a loud shattering noise after the two objects collided: like a window being smashed in with a stone. The knife had held a charge of dispel magic in the blade – something I had put there on a hunch – and the enchantment was just powerful enough to break the illusion that had been cast over the coffin. "And someone was apparently trying to play a trick on you."

Now free of the mystery mage's deception, the truth of the grave lay bare. Claw marks decorated the insides of the casket like something had tried desperately to escape from within some time ago; and there was mud smeared everywhere on the inner surfaces. That spotless shimmer from before, it seemed, had been a complete lie.