Novem watched her leave, knowing she would never come back. It hurt to see her back, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop her, not when he knew it would be futile. The argument had taken everything out of him. He was so, so tired. He sunk to the ground. He missed her already.

He lay cradled in the roots of the tree, their tree, staring at the spot Sikac had disappeared for hours. As the twilight crept in he startled. Even if she didn’t come back to him, there was a way to see her again.

He contracted his new eyelid, the freshly constructed muscle contracting to mount the translucent sheath over his milky eye. He watched fondly as the spectral forms of her wandered around in the loam. He lay back, comforted to have even this little bit of her close by. It would have to be enough. He let the rising prickle of tears fall.

He kept the eye in effect for a long time. Until his eyes ached with the strain and bloody tears followed the dried tear tracks, dripping down his cheeks and off his chin. The images were getting blurry. His heart throbbed, he couldn’t stand to lose this illusory version of her too.

He pulled on his astral form, the collective force of his intrinsic ghostly core, seeking to heal his eye and retain the apparition of Sikac. A pulse of cloudy ghost flesh emerged from him, wrapping around him like an opaque capsule. He felt the ichor channel through him, burning through his arteries and filling him with a flush of euphoria. He directed the surge towards his eyes. It flooded in, warm and soothing. And suddenly, the surge of power flowed outward, expanding into a ghostly frame outlining his material body, pushing the boundaries out out out, then exploding the hull of a massive feline form, larger than he had ever created before, bursting in incorporeal fireworks of celestial light. Unfettered, the lights whirled and spiraled wildly, leaving sparkling after images behind. One by one they appeared to slam into some sort of invisible impediments, imbuing the impalpable structures with their phantasmal light. Animal shapes took form, with long pert tails and pointed ears, cats, of all shapes and sizes, walking towards him on illusory legs. This was new.

They gathered around him, sitting, facing him, looking expectant.

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He wasn’t sure what to make of them, they were eerie, and set him on edge.

‘Don’t you recognize us?’ A phantom cloud leopard said after a pause.

‘Are you… the ghosts that are sewn up inside me?’ Novem asked, hesitant.

‘Sort of.’ Another replied, a tiny fluffy kitten.

‘Some of us are.’ A grisly striped cat, missing an ear and most of his tail corrected. ‘And some of us are new.’ A massive saber toothed tiger said.

‘You’re magnetic. We can’t help but be drawn in to you. You’re our god, even if you don’t know we exist.’ The grisly cat said.

‘But now you know we exist!’ The little kitten said excitedly. A rustle of excitement moved through the group.

‘Are you me? Aren't I made up of all of you?’ Novem felt a flicker of panic, he had always assumed that his personality, his self, was some sort of amalgamation of cat ghosts that Noctua had stitched together, an emergent consciousness from their collective psyche. That they were only composites of his own consciousness. He had never expected for them to retain their own form or sentiance. But here in front of him were the ghosts, still intact, still present in this plane. The existentiality of it overwhelmed him, if they were here, how could he exist?

‘You were us, but now you are something more than us, something beautiful,’ soothed the cloud leopard that had first spoken. ‘And we’re grateful, now that you have become self aware, you can set us free.’ The grisly cat said. ‘I’ve been with you the longest. I’m old and I’m tired and I am ready to rest.’ He walked up to Novem and kissed his cheek. Novem watched, quieted as the old cat faded away. Several others followed suit.

‘I’m staying, I like being with you, there are more things I want to see through your eyes, I want to be your curiosity.’ said the fluffy kitten, her tiny body disappearing in a burst of fairylight, sparkling playfully as it rushed back to be resumed into Novem’s astral frame, fractionally bigger now.

‘I want to stay as well, I want to give you my power and my strength so you won’t have to be afraid again.’ Said the saber tooth, his body dissolved with a celestial flash, zipping back to Novem, sheathing him in an ethereal shroud as his light settled.

One by one, the ghosts elected to either rejoin Novem, their soul-light sinking back into his godly ichor to be called upon again, or to find their forever peace with Novem’s blessing. With each ghostly absorption a warm flush suffused over him, enlarging his astral form infinitesimally with each incorporation. He could feel them settle in the back of his mind, comforting, making him feel that much more whole.

Finally, they were all gone. And though the glade was empty again, though Sikac was still gone, he didn’t feel quite as alone.