The large dining hall was circled with numerous faces. It was hard to believe that so many people could fit around such an oddly shaped table, though with shoulders quite a comfortable distance apart, Chester watched as they tucked into the roast beef coated in a herbed sauce.

He looked up towards the ceiling. He had noticed the similar design all throughout the building. It was as if someone had taken lines of gold and stretched them out in equal lengths apart across the entirety of the roof. Though if one looked close enough they could see that each individual strip was carved into a line of biblical recordings, each one showing a story in minute detail.

“So, I hear you have earned yourself quite a following for someone in their early twenties”

The voice was soft, though pitched halfway through. He knew her as Lady Madora. She had earned her title after marrying into a wealthy family whom dealt with numerous shipments of coal to neighbouring countries. She had been the start of conversation all night… well at least the conversation that had everyone quieten down to listen. In all honesty, Chester hated being the centre of attention, even the thought of speaking out to more than one or two people at a time had his skin crawling… but… Looking over at his mother and seeing her annoyed expression at the fact he hadn’t answered her yet, he swallowed hard and clamped his hands over his knees.

“So it seems…” He managed to croak out.

Lady Madora’s face contorted into a displeased scowl. His answer obviously was too short to keep the conversation flowing, but he felt their attention shift as his mother started speaking.

“We seem to be getting letters daily with numerous people needing my son’s gifts,” she smiled. “If only I had another child with his talents so we could help all of them in their struggles.”

She always had to be the charismatic one… the one to smile about it all and to make everything seem as if in some freak way this was a gift and not a burden.

The dinner was finished quite quickly, and the gests all gathered in the entrance for the usual light banter and wine whilst they waited for the night to conclude. Chester tried his hardest to keep to the back of the room and away from the constant conversation, though somehow, two of the party goers had managed to break free from the crowd and move until they were pretty close to his side.

The first thing that came to Chester’s mind was the obvious stench of the girl to his lefts perfume. It was particularly strong and smelt of a foul mix of crushed herbs watered down with a fermented oil. Scrunching his nose a few times to try and clear his senses, he made the conscious effort to not give the satisfaction of directing his eyes towards her. The male to his right was rather tall and stocky. To see his large frame trying to squeeze into his suit could have been classed as amusing if it were on any other occasion. The two were probably partners, Chester had gathered that by the way he brandished a golden tie around his neck to match with her lengthy gown. She leant in close to him with curious brown eyes and a mass of orange curls which fell down to brush against the top of her shoulders.

“So, do you really talk to the dead?” she questioned whilst exchanging a glance with the man opposite him who was now moving so he stood beside his partner. “I’m Frey and this is my brother Rey.”

The resemblance in their names had his eyes flicking from one to the other. They couldn’t have been twins… they had to be at least two or three years apart.

Her break out of giggles had him break from his thoughts.

“We’re twins in a sense that I was born on the same day as my brother though three years later.” Leaning in closer to him now he could feel the warmth of her breath against his face. “Why is it that such an occurrence like that could possibly happen?’ She arched her brow towards him as if he had all the answers but frowned when he gave no response in return to her eager questions.

“He’s not going to help us out sis just give it a rest. Can’t you see you’re making him uncomfortable?”

Chester glanced towards Rey who was now slumped against one of the buildings many stone pillars. Now that he looked at the two of them closer, he could see that they shared the same nose… same eyes… and same red hair in unruly curls just at different lengths.

“If you need my help, why didn’t you just approach my mother about it?”

Granted it was the most he had ever said the entire night, but he didn’t exactly want to ruin business, or his mother would probably have his head for it. Taking a step forwards, he gripped Frey’s shoulder then pointed in the direction of his mother, who at the time was allowing a waiter to pour her another glass of wine.

Pulling away from him she shook her head quickly then moved until she was kneeling down before him.

Please Chester… you have to understand that we don’t want to throw money into something we don’t know will work. Your mother brings a hard bargain to the table and to take that from our parents account…”

Rey was quick to pull her back to her feet before her scene was noticed by the others.

“You see we had a brother,” Rey continued whilst he pulled his sister in close to his side. “A brother born before the both of us and lived until his early teens. We were wondering what kind of person he was and what kind of legacy he wanted to leave for this family so we could try our best to try and meet them ourselves in his memory.”

Leaning back against the wall Chester dropped his eyes to the marble floor beneath them. “To have some stupid notion that the dead really care about what legacy they once had before their passing is idiocy in its finest form.”

Frey’s eyes grew wide before they began to line with tears. “How could you of all people say something like that?!”

Her raised voice had the whole party drop to silence. Chester’s mother was the first to push her way through the crowd to their sides where she quietly tried to calm the situation.

“Almeria,” she smiled softly with her hand outstretched towards their house maid who was standing in the far corner. She was seriously going to try and just remove him from the situation? He could see Almeria heading towards them. “I apologise for my son’s rude behaviour. His line of work tends to mess with his human side.”

Feeling her glare, he averted his gaze and focused instead on an urn situation in the opposite side of the room. If he narrowed his eyes enough, he could just make out an inscription to the side.

Dearest Finn, forever in our hearts, forever attached to our souls.

“I am terribly sorry.” His mother’s voice cut in again and he had to blink just to refocus upon the three of them before him. “He will help you out free of charge in exchange for the both of you to ignore his previous insensitive remarks.” Bowing down low she then smiled when the two of them agreed with her compromise.

Flinching he took a step forwards and clutched at his mother’s wrist. “Are you an idiot, Almeria isn’t going to be able to cover up what happens when all of this is done,” he hissed.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Tensing whilst his mother straightened herself and pulled her wrist from his grip, she then nodded towards the two of them. “Take him somewhere private, for what you ask, I recommend somewhere you know your brother to have visited a lot.”

That was how it started. How he ended up back in an attic, though this time accompanied by two people he’d met moments beforehand at a party he never wanted to attend. This attic was a lot more crowded than his own when he was younger. This one was cluttered with old stone statues, boxes half opened, and random unfinished canvasses leant up against the walls. It was a miss match of different styles of art and the dust which coated the floors surface left the air thick after the three of them had been moving about up there.

Our father told us that he used to come up here to paint and complete his studies. He liked how quiet it was up here in comparison to the rest of the house,” Frey murmured.

Looking about he couldn’t really see anything particularly grounding for a spirit to attach itself to. There was nothing up here which could have belonged to the kid; the paintings half completed looked recent so they couldn’t have been done by him if he passed away before these two were even born.

“His name was Finn, right?” Chester sighed whilst narrowing his eyes and focusing towards a pull window placed on the far wall. “I saw an urn downstairs with that name engraved into a silver plate… is his ashes in there?”

Looking between each other the two shrugged. “We know it’s in his memory, though whether he is actually in there is an entirely different story,” Rey added.

An urn with no ashes… This family certainly kept odd trinkets in the wake of their son’s death. Making his way across the room he pushes the window outwards allowing a filtration of moonlight to create a path that lead from the window across to where one painting he hadn’t noticed before had been leant against the wall. The painting itself was concealed from view and at this point, all he could tell was that at some point it would have been hanging on one of the manner’s finer walls by the way a wired hanger had been bent from the strain of holding up the weight of the painting for many years. Crossing over to it he peeled it back from the wall and turned it so it was facing the moonlight, and, in that moment, a chill covered his body and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up.

Taking in a shaky breath his eyes start flicking wildly around the room. He had felt it… a change in the air, a shift of the presence in this room, but he couldn’t see so much as a silhouette to represent whoever had just decided to join them. Rey must have felt the change in temperature… he immediately went to wrapping his arms around himself whereas before he was close to his sister to the point, they were almost holding hands. Frey on the other hand was too busy stomping around the room and moving old boxes in search of her brother’s old possessions to be able to notice anything going on around her.

“That painting…” Rey took a few steps forwards but kept to the side so he wouldn’t block their main source of light. “I Remember it used to be in our nursery when we were growing up”

Frey had stopped rummaging around at this point and had spun around to look towards the painting. She was a little late at catching on, but she brought her arms around herself as her breath escaped her lips in a soft mist that followed the breeze filtering in through the window. “Finn…” Abandoning her position by the boxes she moved to crouch down by the base of the painting where she used her pale fingers to brush the cobweb that had gathered at the corner of the frame and obscured a portion of the picture where Finn’s name now became visible. “This was his work…”

Gesturing for Rey to hold the painting up, Chester then moved so he was standing in front of it. Panning his gaze over the many splashes of colour created by thick layers of oil paints, he tilts his head to the side and finds himself smiling a little at the beauty of what lay before him. It was a depiction of the lake he had passed on his way to the manner… although the oak tree that lined its waters seemed a lot smaller and didn’t branch out as far as it now did. It was like a picture caught in the past.

“Finn are you here?!”

Tensing up at the sudden loud shouts of Frey as she bounced back up to her feet and started pacing around the attic. The shift in temperature only intensified to the point a thin layer of frost started to outline the windowpane and creep along wooden walls and framework that surrounded them. Spirits could shift the temperature in the room, sure… but usually when temperatures drop to these levels, whatever was with them wasn’t happy with them being there and trying to communicate.

“I don’t think your brother is here Frey…” Chester’s voice had come out a little more shaken than he had anticipated it to. He wanted to give her confidence that whatever this was, it was something that they needed to be turning away from and getting someone else in to properly cleanse the room.

“What are you talking about? Didn’t you notice the change in the room?!” Frey at this point seemed to be bouncing from her heels to her toes as she moved around the room. She was pulling boxes out as if she was playing hide and seek with a child. Even if she was to move a box whatever this thing was hiding behind, it was unlikely she would be able to see it.

Spinning around Chester felt a warm breath shift the fabric of his coat. Looking into the blank space that greeted him, he run his tongue along his lips to try and counteract the cracks that were beginning to form against the skin. If Finn passed in his early teens there would be no way he would only reach the base of his coat… whatever was up here was running low to the ground and it was aware that he would be able to see it if it came too close. These sorts of intellectual spirits were ones you didn’t want to remain locked in a room with… they were often depicted as demons scraped up from hell and could quite easily slip into hollow objects as their host.

Growling… it was a deep and guttural growl coming from the far-left corner of the room. Moving his gaze to the direction of the sound he was then quick to move his attention to where Frey and Rey were standing. They didn’t seem to have heard it so… that meant what he was hearing was the culprit to the now freezing attic.

“Well Mr I see dead people. Do you see our brother?” Rey had followed his gaze to the corner of the room and when he pointed it out that he was focused on a certain point of the attic, Frey soon moved to stand by his side and peer towards the corner as well. “I don’t understand why your mother charges so much if you- “his words drowned out as Chester started to move across the room. Intimidation was not the approach he needed to take… not this time.

Crouching down onto one knee he holds his hand out then turns his head away in the hope that he would feel something to confirm his theories. He could feel eyes bearing down upon him from behind as the twins watched in a kind of quiet trance at what he was doing. It was always the way when he connected with the dead. The silence gave him time to concentrate, but whether people realised this and chose to remain silent… or if something came over them like when he was completing a healing, was something that he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

There it was… a warmth that run along his index finger like a breath of summer air against the biting cold that surrounded them. Turning his head slightly at first, he could just make out the outline of two pointed ears and then the wagging tail. Letting out a relieved sigh he turned himself fully and offered the back of his hand again towards the hound that moved tentatively forwards. This is what happened to dogs when they were unable to cross over… their fur appears like ash around their shadowed forms… like sparks it comes to life. Peering into the golden eyes that stared back he gives a small smile to the pup. A German Sheppard… just over two years old. Moving so he is able to run his open palm along the fur of the dogs jaw he closes his eyes as flashes of images start flicking across the back of his lids. He could only describe the experience as being similar to that of watching a projection film… some parts cut and pasted poorly and others quite jumpy and unclear.

A recollection of a boy running out into the snow to collect a shivering bundle of fur… that scene soon shifting to towering adults scolding past actions and instructions being demanded to provide this ball of fur the fate it was once destined to. Stubbornness seemed to run in the family as this child stowed away a stray runt of a pup in the attic of a beautiful manner. The next few scenes skipped by like a short film of a longer life, but gradually that stubborn boy began to visit less frequently and when he did, he could barely make it up the stairs… an illness? Running this thumb through the fur to maintain the connection he creases his brows and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Eventually the boy stopped showing at all… then the eyes which once held the joy of seeing his rescuer now held the pain of realising, he was alone once more.

Pulling his hand back slowly he looks down towards his fingers then flinches as a warmth hit his palm and he realises a single tear had managed to run down his cheek. Breathing in deeply and wiping his eyes on the back of his coat sleeve, he shakily rises back up to his feet and turning to face the twins who were exchanging glances he smiles a little.

“Like I said… your brother isn’t here… but a friend of his is” he could feel his voice breaking slightly. Looking into the eyes of a spirit could be overwhelming at the best of times… but when the spirit was an animal… well the emotions are far stronger than that of a human’s soul. “He had stowed away a puppy from the winter snow… your parents wouldn’t allow him to keep it, so he hid him up here… when your brother passed there was no-one left to take care of him so he too fell to the same fate.” Frey seemed to be less convinced than Rey did. She kept moving her attention to the space where he had been crouched with pursed lips and clenched fists by her sides. “Your brother has crossed over to whatever land you wish to believe is after this life… but unfortunately his dog has remained, still waiting for his master to return. If you want a legacy to hold onto for him, I think cleaning up this space and adding some things for this spirit to play with will be your best bet”

“This is the sort of shit your mother gets payment for?” Her words bit off at the end as she scoffed and moved her attention back onto Chester. “You’re a fake, a fraud, a damn circus act!” Spinning on her heels she pushed past her brother’s shoulder and stormed down the stairs. Rey followed her shortly after, once he had given Chester a sorrowful smile and a brief nod.

Peering back over his shoulder to the blank space where the dog had been, he finds himself chewing on his lip once more. Not everyone believed in what he could do… when it came to talking with the dead anyway. He always guessed because it didn’t have the same physical effects as his healings did… there was no evidence that anything was ever there, just the words that were sprouting from his mouth.

Making his way back down to the main hall he crosses the floor to his mother’s side. She by this time was laughing loudly and leaning against the shoulder of another guest that had taken a liking to her. The way he was pawing at her backside, even with him being as discreetly as he was trying to be, Chester could tell he would be heading home with Almeria alone tonight.

“Shall we head home?”

Feeling Almeria’s gently grip against his shoulder, he could feel an instant relief wash over him. For them to go home and for him to be done with this night was something that he wanted prior to his evening being disrupted by the twins.

Giving Almeria a small smile and slight nod he goes to turn to follow her towards the door… but in that moment he saw something… like the flash of a figure making her way through the crowd and heading in his direction. At first, he felt like she was somewhat familiar… but her blonde curls and heavy winged liner caused a distraction that made it difficult for him to place her.

“Let’s hurry now before the weakness sets in” Almeria begged as she linked her arm with his and guided him quickly towards the door.

Whoever it was… she must not have been that important if Almeria was willing to ignore her clearly breaking through the crowd to reach them. Stepping up into the carriage and being followed by a panicked Almeria, the last thing he heard for that evening was the quick whip of the reins and the crunch from the carriage wheels rolling over loose stone.