I was dreaming peacefully, sleeping somewhere much warmer this time. The furry blanket that wrapped around me, thudded with a little drum somewhere, pulsing to the rhythm of my dreams. I thought of fiery volcanoes, and ashen rain in my not so dreamy nightmare, when something moved, quickly snapping me out of my dream.

I woke up to massive silver eyes, swirling with unfathomable depth, staring into my very own. Without reacting for a couple of seconds, the sleep from my head slowly faded.

“Good morning little spirit of flame” A voice gonged into my head without warning.

I screamed. The sound felt like it was physically throwing me back and grinding my head into paste as I grasped my ears, flimsily as my arms could only just reach them. My confused mind scrambled for something to grab onto, a thought of reasoning to pull me out of the water.

I stayed like that for what felt like hours, swamped in the echoing gong that was that damn foxes voice. Eventually, I managed to calm down enough to stop crying, opening my eyes once again to find the fox exactly as she, definitely a she, had been before.

Breathing deeply, I realized I had been leaned up into her furry and soft body. I was not pleased, and I voiced this displeasure by crying again anew.

She huffed, brought me up with a flick of her eyes, and set me down about 3 feet away, standing up and walking out of the room with the soft graceful patting I recognized as her own.

What the hell?! I said after I was calm enough to form a coherent thought. She can talk?! And why is she so loud!? Thankfully, no one responded to my angrily confused thoughts as the fox came back in, a physical basket in her mouth.

Setting it down on the stone floor, she reached in with her paw, and a smashing noise came out. She used both paws, kneading the stuff into bread, and lifting it out with her wind.

Berries. I thought in morbid curiosity. The mushed patty of red and purple pancakes was now visible, as bits of juice dripped from it. The fox collected the drops, holding her paw above it and letting it drip for a good 15 seconds before putting the patty in the basket and walking up to me, keeping the wet paw in the air.

Her clawed foreleg came down near my face, just the tip touching my nose, and beginning to trace along nonexistent lines of my face.

I was stunned enough that I didn’t react while she was drawing, the berry juice sliding across me in an unseeable pattern that made my face itch.

Soon, she lifted her paw, and nodded to herself, like she was telling herself ‘a job well done'. I was suspicious. She had probably drawn a mustache and glasses on me, as her evil nature demanded.

Her eyes locked back onto mine, and my thoughts blurred, the connection between my mind and body loosening, my confused expression relaxing into one of bewilderment and fear.

“Better?” she asked in an unjustly sweet voice that should not belong to my tormentor.

I stared at her without saying anything, the voice much softer and quiet than it had been before. It had a resounding static to it like there was interference across a radio. Or in this case, telepathy I suppose.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish, not responding in body or mind. She sat there and began speaking again without waiting for a response.

“I apologize for the mental invasion, but there was a multitude of reasons that required an audience with you, young one. The runes and materials are also not exactly abundant in the enchanted forest either. I am sorry for not applying proper hostess rules, I do not exactly get visitors here.”

I reached out with my thoughts tentatively, slurring slightly at the response, not being able to fully connect myself as my senses were still dulled.

“What?” I asked. It took me a second to process that. “Wait. Runes? Enchanted forest?” I recognized the almost unfamiliar words. The term for enchanted forest clicked in my mind. “Do you mean the forest outside?”

She nodded “Yes, the enchanted forest is one of danger and rampant arcane energy. I must say, you have been causing me quite the headache. I had never dreamed of having to guess the intentions of a human, let alone a spirit.”

“Spirit?” I asked in even more confusion.

“Oh yes. I suppose most do not realize what they are as they are usually too engulfed in vengeance and rage to notice. Unfortunately, most have been unable to get one to last long enough to study, as they do not have the will to retain consciousness”

I was bombarded with information and new answers. “But… I’m no spirit. I'm a human…” I trailed off. She nodded.

“Yes. Were human, by the smell of your mana. It still has residual human-like elements. Although, I do not think that will last much longer as the mana you are currently absorbing is vastly different than what you are used to. Not to mention the change in body and shock of dying.”

That threw me for a loop. “You know of my death? And what do you mean I was human?”

She sighed, plopping herself on the ground and curling her tail in an elegant manner.

“Most spirits, those who die and come back with strong mana and regret from their broken lives, go insane from the exposure. Spiritual Mana cannot last outside of the body for very long, as it dissipates into small fragments. Spirits, the exception, last much longer, usually from unusually high mana levels and strong desires from life, allowing them to persist after death. Unfortunately, most spirits lose themselves to this ‘Determination to live’ and become mindless ghosts drifting around in endless torment and terror.” She paused at my horrified expression.

“However” She began again. “You seem to have done the impossible, instead of fading like most, you have latched onto a living body. Which should not be possible, as your affinity, or mana corruption, as most call it, should not be able to match another's body.”

I said nothing, calming down and stewing on the words, letting her continue. Otherwise, I earn the ire of the fox.

“There are very few possibilities I can think of, in this case. One, being you had an identical twin, which would still, even then, be very difficult with a low chance of success as the tiny minuscule differences make a big impact in possession. Two, you being a perfect clone of another, which is such a difficult and expensive spell, I doubt a small traveling caravan such as yourself had the ability to do so. And finally, three, your soul being completely blank and devoid of mana so that you just drifted and inhabited the nearest body you could find.” She paused again.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“All seem extraordinarily unlikely, which is the point I am driving at. How did a spirit such as yourself, steal the body of the infant you are possessing?”

I stared at her for a couple more questions. “What? I have literally no idea what you're talking about lady.” I said.

Her elegant posture was interrupted as she leaned forward and growled, sending a ripple of shock and fear anew into my tender ears. She quickly receded, seeing my face puffing up again to cry.

“My name…” She hissed. “Is Viralya, Death Whisperer, not lady” She paused again. “Do not forget that young spirit of fire”

I shivered, squeaking out a response. “Yes… Ma’am” I all but whispered. She gave me a lasting look. She didn’t speak, the silence stretching thick enough you couldn’t cut it with a knife.

“And what. Pray tell, is yours, young spirit?” She said, irritation and static making me flinch.

“Ahh, I umm…” I stopped. What was my name? Wait, why can I not remember my name? Who the heck am I?! “Uhhhhh… I don’t know?” I said.

She stared at me with her totally unreadable expression that I could scarcely see due to the berry juice. Her paw lifted up, reaching out to my face, tracing the runes still, painting them in an even more unseeable picture.

“Your runes do not obstruct your memory, young one, only dull your weak mind to communicate with me.”

“That's what the weird picture on my face does?” I asked. “And again, I’m not a spirit, I’m from….” I trailed off. Where was I from again? Now that I think about it, I can’t really remember much from my life before, no faces or names, just a blur of events and locations.

She stared at me for a little longer while I had my internal musings and panicking. “Well.” She huffed heavily in what I thought was a fox version of a sigh. “I suppose this has never happened before. Memory loss might be a side effect of possession.” She straightened herself again, back into an elegant posture. “Very well. If you cannot remember your own, then I must give you one of your own.” She squinted at me, narrowing her eyes, locking onto my body, seeing things beyond my knowledge. Time seemed to freeze again, her eyes glinting with silver light.”

She closed her eyes and mumbled something in a hissing growl breath in complex patterns. Language, I guess. After refocusing her gaze back onto mine, the silence resumed. I was actually kind of excited. I was going to get a name! Some primal part of me was very excited to be identified as something instead of a ‘young spirit’. I wasn’t even going to mention the flame part. I mean, I’m not stupid. I have memory loss, sure, but burning to death leaves a pretty big lasting impression. With all this talk of souls and flames, I had been too shocked to ask much about it. After a couple of minutes, I had pierced the dots together myself.

“Your naming ceremony shall be in approximately two weeks,” She said with more crackle and static than before. “Can you remember how you managed to get into that body?” She asked, bringing her back to her original question.

I paused, not really sure what to do. Eventually deciding there was no way I was keeping any secrets, I answered with a shake of my head.

“I remember the pain, and death, from-” I shivered at the one memory I would rather forget. “Fire. But after that, no. I just woke up to you in my face.” She sigh-huffed again and gave the impression of nodding.

“I see.” She said. “Well, while that answers all my questions that you are able to answer now-” her gaze sharpened. “I cannot have you descending into madness, or fade from that body, only to wreak havoc. That is just a risk I am unwilling to take. So, I am going to have to apply sleeping winter winds or lesser hibernation. I apologize in advance.”

I blinked. So that's what that was? The overwhelming exhaustion? I wasn’t that mad or angry really. Personal privacy had kinda all flown out the window when she began reading my thoughts.

“Well okay,” I said. “I have so many questions really. Most of them circling around why I’m here. Why haven’t you eaten me yet, miss Whisperer of Death?”

While I expected her to growl, or hiss, or even get offended, contrary to my expectations, she began roaring with laughter. Her huffs and wheezes were not contained to her just her body either, as she struggled to grasp words, in my mind.

“Eat… Eat you?” She wheezed. That, young spirit, would not only soil my dignity and teeth but also my sense of taste as you humans are horribly stringy and sour.” She stopped laughing.

“Is… Is that why you have been afraid of my presence? I have taken great lengths to show you lengths of hospitality, and make sure you were comfortable. I had not realized you had thought that way. Although… I suppose most humans think of spirit beasts as mindless ravagers as we do to spirits."

“So… I’m not going to be eaten?” I asked, to which she chuckled.

“No, silly spirit,” She said in a much warmer tone. “I’m not going to eat you. If anything I’m here to make sure you grow well enough to take care of yourself and not fall into a mindless rage.” She grimaced. “From your perspective though, I can see a majestic fox such as myself instilling fear in those who are ignorant.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘make me comfortable? That haystack you have been laying me on is what you call comfort? Really? That stuff is prickly as hell”

Another chuckle. “Well, if it truly is as bad as you describe it, I shall find a better and more suitable sleeping surface. Although we do not exactly have the finest beds here in the forest, I must admit.” She said in an annoyed tone.

“Ah… Well, I suppose I feel a bit silly for complaining now.” I said a bit darkly. “Give me a moment to umm, process all this. It's a lot to take in”

“Of course”

And it is a lot to take in. Not only am I some crazy weird spirit, but I’m also going to live! A sense of tension I didn’t know had faded from my mind, relaxing my slurred thoughts and causing me to take a deep breath, feeling the cold crisp air fall in my lungs, before letting it out in a puff. I wasn’t going to be eaten!

I mentally slapped myself at the distraction, glancing at the fox staring at me. Taking a deep breath, I tried to organize my sluggish thoughts.

So, what have I learned so far? I thought. The crazy fox is actually a spirit beast named Virginia-something death whisperer. I have memory loss, Magic is called mana, runes are a thing, and I still have no grasp on reality.

She also had given me no indication that she knew much about me, besides I was human. Now that I thought about it, there is one thing that I absolutely needed to know.

“This planet.” I started. Her gaze snapped back into focus. I hadn’t even realized she was looking away in the first place. I quickly shook away the thought.

“What’s it called?”

“You don’t know? Ah, must be the memory thing. I shall teach you more on history later on then.” She said with a finality that left me no room to argue.

“You are on Zarenth, the world of the Arcane Pillars.”

Well. That confirms it. I guess I’m not on earth anymore.