“Do you really serve the God of Death?” the nymph suddenly asked the following week.

Once more, the spirits had gathered at that sacred place. They sat in their familiar circle, awaiting the arrival of the priestess to start the usual routine. She had arrived a bit later that day, but it didn’t bother any of the spirits. They had an eternity to wait, after all. However, the nymph seemed more agitated than usual, a restlessness permeating her entire being as she fidgeted in her seat.

The priestess turned to her, expression unchanging. “Of course.”

“Then why do you help us? Of what benefit is it to you?”

“It is the will of my god and so it appeases him. And what appeases him appeases me,” the priestess explained.

The other spirits around the circle nodded their heads in subtle agreement. “That makes sense,” the mushroom spirit mumbled. The fox beside it concurred, “Absolutely.” No one saw any flaw in the priestess’s response.

“But isn’t giving us spirits second chances something more likely to be handled by another deity, like the Goddess of Life, perhaps?” the nymph pressed, not yet satisfied.

The priestess remained unperturbed by the incessant questioning. “The Goddess of Life does not concern herself with those no longer living.”

“Just because we died before doesn’t mean we can’t die again!” The nymph jumped to her feet, pointing wildly at the empty spot in the circle. “Just look at what happened to the fairy!”

The spirits grew wary, many of them becoming panicked. It was the first they were hearing of such a thing. They began to stir in their places.

“What is she talking about?”

“What happened?”

“Is the fairy okay?”

“Didn’t she get a second chance like the others?”

“You might have suspected that she moved on!” the nymph continued, shouting all the while. “But she was murdered!”

The spirit was practically hysterical as she yelled, sea-salted tear tracks running down her pale blue cheeks. Her hair appeared especially damp that day, and the pearls lacked their usual luster. She looked more like drowned seaweed than a dewy-sweet maiden of the sea. It was clear that she was distraught, and her disarrayed state only served to rile up the other spirits as well.

“What!?”

“Is that true!?”

“Then what about the others!?”

“Silence!” the priestess’s voice boomed. It rattled the trees, shaking loose a few evergreen leaves that slowly drifted to the forest floor. High above, the bright sky turned gray, the little beams of sunlight that filtered through the trees dissipating like smoke.

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The spirits quickly fell silent again at the commanding display. Those who stood up in a panic hastily returned to their seats, though many of them still shook with fear. Only the nymph remained standing, glaring at the priestess in defiance, though her form trembled.

She was not particularly brave, but she felt that she could not rest until she learned the truth. The fact was that one of their own had died, and she didn’t know who was responsible, but she had an idea.

“I see now,” the priestess said slowly, eerily calm. “You suspect me.”

The nymph pointed a shaky finger at her. “Y-you were the last one seen with her! And you didn’t mention anything about it today!”

“How did you find this out?” the priestess questioned.

“Don’t change the subject!” the nymph demanded. She had sparkling tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “D-did you kill her?”

The priestess took a menacing step closer. “Your suspicions are misguided.”

“Then tell us what happened!” the forest guardian said, standing up as well. It seemed the other spirits had slowly regained their courage.

“Yeah, we deserve to know!”

“Stop hiding things from us!”

“Tell us the truth!”

The priestess sighed. “Alright, alright. Calm down.”

Once everyone had taken a seat again, she continued. “I thought the fairy was ready for a new life but… there was a problem. My god couldn’t help her, so we parted ways soon after.”

“What problem?” the fox asked, incredibly curious.

“I can’t say for certain but I believe it had to do with the master of her old life. We believe that is who killed her.”

“Master of… what are you talking about?” The nymph was beyond confused, rubbing her temple in irritation.

“She traded away her soul. It no longer belonged to her. Whoever she gave it to must have wanted to reclaim it in this life as well.”

“That’s really possible?” the mushroom spirit asked in amazement.

“Unfortunately,” the priestess confirmed solemnly.

“What about the others?” the nymph asked, still skeptical.

“You are still wary of me?” The priestess smirked. “They were all successfully reincarnated.”

“And we’re just supposed to take your word for it? Don’t you have any proof?”

The priestess looked exasperated then. “What would you have me do exactly?”

The nymph thought about it for a moment before snapping her fingers as if she just had a brilliant idea. “Call upon your god so that we can be sure you truly serve who you say and mean no harm.”

“You want me to summon a god to prove my innocence?” the priestess asked in disbelief.

“Yeah!” another spirit chimed in. “I’ll feel better after seeing the god for myself.”

Once again, a chorus of agreements began to arise.

The temperature in the forest suddenly dropped ten degrees, and when the priestess spoke again her voice was low and menacing. “First of all, no you won’t. You will only find the prospect of death all the more terrifying. Second of all, I cannot call upon the one I serve on a whim. Do you even understand what you’re asking for, you fools!?”

The priestess had never raised her voice in such a way before. She had shown them mild annoyance at most, but never true anger. Many of the spirits felt a shiver run up their spines, despite being unable to feel the cold. They all fell silent again as the priestess seethed.

“I am no more suspicious than any one of you!” she huffed, glaring pointedly at each of the spirits around the circle. They all began to cast wary glances at each other, as if just realizing the severity of the situation. If the priestess was guilty, then they were all in danger. But if she wasn’t, that just meant the culprit was hiding amongst them.

“So,” the fox spirit began, looking at the nymph, “how did you know that the fairy was killed?”

She sniffed, crossing her arms and gazing off into the distance. “We fought a lot but we were good friends. After she went to receive her second chance, I went to visit her a few days later just to see what had happened. But what I saw was the entire meadow where she often stayed burnt to ashes.”

The fox smirked at her. “Then how do we know it wasn’t you?”

“What!?” The nymph appeared genuinely offended and startled by the accusation.

For what felt like the millionth time that day, the spirits broke out into a barrage of bickering. They threw accusations at one another without hesitation, eager to find the culprit behind the disturbing incident. Any one of them was a potential suspect, and they had no problem tossing blame if it meant saving themselves.

“You’re all idiots,” the priestess suddenly said, voice cutting through the commotion like a knife. She seemed to have calmed down somewhat.

“Hey! You’re not clear of suspicion yet, either!” the nymph argued.

“Look around,” the priestess told her. “There was a newcomer today that you all have yet to even notice.”

The spirits all paused, glancing around in confusion before suddenly, the nymph gasped in alarm, pointing with an unsteady hand. One by one the spirits turned to see. There, on a mossy rock on the outside of the circle, sat a black cat with glowing green eyes. Its small mouth split open into a grin, revealing a row of pointed teeth.

It spoke just three words in a deep and gravelly voice, “Give it back.”

And then, it attacked, charging straight for the priestess.