“Are you sure this would work?”
Daniel hovered in the air near Mark, peering over the apprentice shaman’s shoulder at the handwritten sheets of paper. Mark had impeccable handwriting, of course, neat and easy to read. For some reason, that jived weirdly with the concept of writing down theoretical magical rituals.
Mark tilted his head to the side, considering, “I can’t promise it’ll work. However, this is the best option for empowering a ghost I could come up with from a spirit magic perspective.”
For all his recent crash course on magic, Daniel still didn’t know what that really meant. Obviously, Mark meant he was using spirit magic techniques instead of death magic ones, both because death magic was a terrible idea and because Mark’s affinity was spirit. Well, spirit and shifter, though shifter didn’t feel like an affinity to Daniel as much as a state of being.
A diet of modern American media tropes from things like Twilight or any of the Omegaverse stories primed Daniel to think of shifters as romantic figures with cool powers and weird rules. The romantic part was probably because gay romance novels were his guilty pleasure, but some of them had truly deep settings and systems.
And others were as shallow as cardboard cutouts, but the sex was hot. There was a reason romance novels were Daniel’s guilty pleasure.
The truth disappointed Daniel, but maybe not too much. Real shifters were mostly just… people. They had the badass power to change into an animal and enhanced bodies and long lives and were part of a secret society of magic users and packs were real. So the magic and fantasy were there. But on a day to day level, they went to school or work, they cooked meals and hung out with friends and did homework. They went shopping at human stores in human towns and most worked for human companies.
Magic colored their world, but it didn’t rule it.
As much fuss as the magical community made about secrecy, the average pack member didn’t live in fear of humanity. Secrecy was just easier, because that otherness of theirs was enough to make people panic and do stupid things to wipe them out if it became widely known, but it wasn’t all that they were.
Most of the pack avoided Riordan, Daniel realized. That made him feel shitty for his friend, who was too macho to admit he was lonely and sad panda most days. Riordan practically got star-eyes as he gazed in longing at the closeness of the pack. Riordan was a man starved for affection.
Daniel suspected he’d get pretty starved for company soon too, once the reality of his existence as a ghost really sunk in over weeks and months and years. The fact that Mark could see and hear him temporarily made Daniel very grateful. He’d needed someone to turn to besides Riordan, because confessing his feelings of weakness to Riordan both would be a stress that Riordan didn’t need on top of everything else going on and, well, it would also make Daniel feel even weaker. Because Riordan would try to fix it for Daniel, probably forgetting to let Daniel actually help along the way.
Working with Mark felt far more equal. They were both weak and both hurting and both needed someone to lean on and give them hope right now.
Plus Mark was attractive in that kind boy-next-door way, all freckles and big smiles that reached his eyes and a body that was shifter-fit and athletic. It sucked that Mark wasn’t into Daniel the same way, but at least Mark wasn’t bothered by Daniel lusting after him. Which, given Daniel was dead and had no way to have a real relationship, was probably for the best.
Daniel pulled himself off the runaway train tangents and back to the conversation at hand. He was curious. “Are there other ways to empower a ghost? Besides death or spirit magic?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Mark answered. “I just don’t know them. Essence magic has to have something, since that deals with the ephemeral. Mental could probably still enhance your mental abilities. Life might have something as a balance thing, since death comes from life. The others… If someone could figure out how to interact with a ghost as a material mage or something, they could use a ghost as part of another spell. Like maybe build a golem body for you? I really don’t know what’s possible. Most mages don’t interact with ghosts.”
Right. Daniel kept forgetting that since anyone he was able to interact with dealt with ghosts. Even with all the murders and such going on, Daniel hadn’t met any ghosts in the wild, so to speak, either. Interacting with a ghost usually required summoning one from beyond the Veil or finding one of the people or places that was legitimately haunted. Or exposure to death mages, which was kinda in the second category.
Truthfully, ghosts chose not to linger unless trapped by magic or some seriously strong sense of obligation. Sticking around to make sure something was completed didn’t make a ton of sense when no one could hear them or interact with them. A full ghost like Daniel experienced time and loneliness like a normal person. That sort of purgatory isn’t something most people willingly submit themselves to.
Daniel could only bear it because he had company and purpose and even then, he was still seeking power to change his state. Because, yes, not wanting to feel helpless was a big part of the desire to be empowered. That didn’t mean the desire to interact directly with the physical realm wasn’t mixed right up in there.
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“Honestly,” Daniel told Mark, “I’m glad it’s spirit magic we’re going with and I’m glad it’s you helping me.”
“Why?” Mark asked, surprised. He set the papers back down on his kitchen table.
It still surprised Daniel somehow that Mark had his own house. The apprentice spent so much time either at Frankie’s workroom doing his job as apprentice or at the pack house socializing that Daniel hadn’t thought about it until he started stalking the man. The house was small and not far from the pack house, but undeniably Mark’s place. Just another piece of that “shifters are people too” thing that tripped Daniel up.
“I mean, there’s the bits about how you understand me because you are going through something similar and the fact that you have the ability to help,” Daniel tried to explain, “but it’s really the fact that you genuinely care about helping me. I matter to you. That means more than I can say. Plus, I like you as a person. I like the way you think and who you are inside.”
Mark blinked at Daniel owlishly. A swoop of fear ran through Daniel, just like it did every time Mark delayed in responding to him. Was this the moment that Daniel became invisible again? But no, not yet.
“It means a lot to me,” Mark said in a voice tight with emotion, “that you think so highly of me. Everything we’ve been through shook my faith in myself as a shaman. Or perhaps as a person who can become the kind of shaman I aspire to be.”
“You are already a good shaman,” Daniel spoke fiercely. “I won’t stand for anyone talking bad about my friends, even themselves.”
Mark laughed at that, but his small smile warmed both his face and Daniel’s intangible heart. “Thank you.”
“To that end, I should make it clear that I trust you. Both as a person who has my best interests at heart and as a shaman to find the best ways to accomplish our goals safely.” Daniel pressed a hand over his heart in a gesture of trust. He wanted to reach out for Mark, to touch him in sign of companionship, but the blessing of the grove didn’t allow for physical contact. Not that Daniel would complain about being able to be seen or heard, even if he wished for more.
Mark’s smile slipped into a serious expression. “No path to quick power is safe.”
“I know that,” Daniel reassured him. “I do. Honest.”
Mark studied him a moment longer before sighing and dropping his gaze to the ritual he’d written for Daniel. He ran a finger lightly over the papers, messing up his neat stack.
“We shouldn’t do this,” Mark said softly. “We should be patient and cultivate our foundations gradually. We should talk to more people about our feelings and desires.”
“And those people would tell us no,” Daniel grumbled. He crossed his arms and moved to hover over the table in front of Mark. “We’d spend years needing protection, helpless to contribute in dangerous situations.”
“Those people would be right to tell us no,” Mark countered, “because this is reckless and has the potential to mess up the rest of our existences if anything goes wrong. Possibly even if everything goes right. We’re talking about a deal with a greater spirit here.”
“A greater spirit who has helped Riordan out several times,” Daniel pointed out stubbornly.
“A greater spirit who has done what it felt best, no matter what Riordan or anyone else might wish. We’re trusting a tree to know what’s best for a ghost!” Mark slammed a hand down on the table over the stack of papers, half standing to lean forward and get in Daniel’s face.
Daniel hadn’t heard Mark yell like that before, much less the physical aggression. He jolted away, surprised. They froze there, staring at each other.
Finally Daniel asked, “Does that mean you changed your mind and won’t help?”
Mark sank back into his chair. His gaze slid to the side, staring at nothing. “It means I’m terrified. I’m tired of being scared of everything.”
Daniel didn’t reply to that, afraid that anything he said might push Mark into not helping. Which was probably the wise answer, but darn it, Daniel was also tired of being helpless all the time. He’d try something like their ritual on his own if he had to, but Daniel doubted he could make it work and that made it the height of stupidity to even consider.
“I’ll still help,” Mark said softly. He ran one hand through his thick brown hair. Daniel saw his fingers were trembling. “Spirits protect me, I’ll help. I’m not going back on my promise with you.”
Daniel scooted around to sit next to Mark. He carefully wrapped one arm around Mark’s shoulders. Neither of them could feel the gesture, aside from a chill down Mark’s spine that made him shiver, but Mark unconsciously leaned into the intangible embrace.
“Have you figured out how to make things better for yourself?” Daniel asked.
“Not yet. I’m hoping that helping you either gives me ideas or gives me enough peace on my own to be okay doing things the slow way.” Mark admitted.
That would mean that Daniel would be the only one doing a reckless path to power. It skirted the edge of Daniel being Mark’s experiment, except that wasn’t true. Mark helping Daniel at all was risky and the shaman would be leading the ritual. The risks were shared.
Mark was simply warring between what his traumatized mind needed and what he logically knew was wisest. That made him a better shaman, not a worse one.
Daniel ran a hand through Mark’s hair, wishing he could pet Mark properly, could do anything to properly reassure the man. He kept his frustration out of his voice as he whispered, “It’ll be okay, Mark. It’s all okay. Whatever happens, happens. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Daniel wasn’t really sure everything was actually okay, but he promised himself right there, Mark slowly relaxing at his words, that Daniel would do everything in his meager power to make sure things turned out okay.
“So, tonight?” Daniel asked.
“Tonight,” Mark agreed.