October 7, 2042]

There was a knock at the door — more of a loud bang than anything. Broken from her stupor, Mel shook her head to clear it and floated over to the door, not even bothering to step upon the floor. If whoever was waiting on the other side didn’t know about ghosts, that wasn’t Mel’s problem at the moment: she was much too upset and emotionally volatile to have such considerations.

Does it even matter? thought Mel as she pulled the door open, focusing her hand on interacting physically with the handle. Nothing else could make this day more surreal.

She opened the door. On the other side stood two enormous sheep covered in thick golden wool, staring at her with blinking, dark eyes.

For a moment, Mel couldn’t react. Then she murmured under her breath: “You’re… when Aina first arrived…”

“I am Ezekiel du Garbhold ni Houliram,” said the sheep on the left.

“And I am Sean,” said the sheep on the right. “There is no reason to fear any longer. We are here to come to your aid, Lady Frost.”

The two sheep walked through Mel without another word, their cloves making heavy sounds on the carpeted floor. Mel stood still for a moment, unable to properly process what she had just witnessed. Then she shook her head tiredly and closed the door.

“Oh, screw it,” Mel murmured, “I thought I was supposed to be the mysterious and bewildering presence in this house.”

Meanwhile, the women hadn’t moved. She lounged in her chair, her black eyes disinterestedly evaluating the two golden sheep that moved through the entry hall toward her. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see Ezekiel or Sean enter the room. She calmly inspected the two newcomers, unfazed, taking a sip from her tea cup.

“You are trespassing within the home where our daughter sleeps and this brave spirit resides,” Ezekiel said coldly, “begone shadow. This place of light and healing is not one where you are welcome.”

“You are not in the position to command such an edict,” said the woman nonchalantly and blew a bit of lint off of her fingernails. “You are the denizens of a minor house from a minor realm. In other words, I can do as I like and you have no power to stop me.”

“That may be true, shadow,” spat Sean, “but we still serve the Goddess of Light, your equal and opposite. To tread upon our hooves is to risk inciting disagreement with her. Surely that is not worth conducting this immature torture you are so fond of.”

The woman seemed to consider this, and shrugged. “Torture is a harsh word, isn’t it? I was just having some fun.”

“A harsh word, but a correct word,” spat Ezekiel. “You have no contract with this spirit. She is not yours to play with and discard. Leave her be.”

“I wonder if that’s true,” grinned the woman. Her eyes fell on Mel, who quivered away from her gaze. “This intriguing little spirit has gotten attached to the wrong human… haven’t you? You couldn’t have made a worse choice even if you had eternity to play with.”

“Leave her be,” repeated the two sheep.

The woman sighed, downed the last of her tea, and stood up. Somehow, she seemed to have grown even taller in the time since she had sat down. She towered even over the abnormally large sheep, her head nearly brushing up against the raised ceiling of the entry hall.

“I guess stopping for today wouldn’t be the worst outcome,” she pondered out loud in a chilling voice. “I learned some interesting things.”

She strolled down the hall, past Ezekiel and Sean, who were watching her warily. The woman stopped right next to where Mel hovered in the air and winked at the ghost. “I’ll come by again. There’s more I would like to discuss with you. For now, I'll leave you all to this… boring, pointless daily life.” The woman paused, considering something else. “Oh, and my offer is still on the table. If you ever feel like leaving this side, let me know. I’ll end your suffering and send you to the afterlife, no problem. I would take great pleasure in it.”

Mel swallowed heavily. She couldn’t meet the woman’s eyes. “That won’t happen. I’m not… I’m not suffering…”

The woman shook her head. “Sooner rather than later, you’ll find that you’re very wrong about that, little spirit.” Something almost like compassion appeared in her eyes. “You have a limit of what you can endure and you’ll inevitably reach it. That is something I never have to fear. After all, I won’t give up on love.”

The door slammed, ratting the window panes. The woman was gone.

When Mel opened her eyes again, her cheek was pressed against something warm and soft. The feeling was gentle and nostalgic. It reminded her of when she was little, before Isaac was born. She would curl up with her father while they watched some goofy horror movie: her cheek pressed against his warm chest. They would be covered in the same blanket, and a space heater would be quietly humming away in the corner as the exciting and terrifying images on the screen blared. Afterward, when she was too tired to walk back upstairs, her father would carry her in his arms back to her room. He had a large frame, even back then. In those days, his arms had seemed bigger than the whole world.

Papa, Mel thought subconsciously, I miss you. I miss you so, so much. But I can't see you yet. There are things I want to experience, sights I want to see. I’m dead already, but there’s something in me that I wish to be born.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Mel blinked, finally realizing that what her cheek was pressed against was the golden fur of Ezekiel, the talking sheep. She was halfway into the ground, putting her weight against Ezekiel, who had folded his legs underneath his body in order to lay down on the carpet and give Mel more easy support. “Oh,” she murmured, still a little groggy. “I’m touching you…”

“Thou are,” said Ezekiel simply, looking over his back to gaze at Mel with his small dark eyes. “Myself and Sean may be simple animals, but we are still divinely blessed by the Goddess of Light. It is why we can converse to you in a language you understand, and why such matters as the materialism of spirit are of little consequence.”

Mel sighed and nestled her face deeper in the warm wool. Ezekiel didn’t smell like a barnyard animal at all, in fact, a sweet and clear smell now came to her nostrils: like grass warmed by the summer sun. “You’re Aina’s sheep, aren’t you? I saw you the first day you arrived. Like something out of a fairy tale.”

“Thou art too kind, Lady Frost. If I may say, to see a spirit as extraordinary as yourself, so full of vigor and expression — as material and alive as myself — it is like something out of the age of myth.”

Mel smiled to herself with a goofy grin at the compliment, but then a look of consternation passed over her face. “I don’t… remember the past hour. Why are you here? It’s like a part of my mind is missing, no, like someone took it.”

Ezekiel’s voice took on a more somber tenor. “Yes. You have stood up to great evil, one who takes your time away from you without compromise. Myself and Sean arrived to put a stop to it. Fear not, when she returns — and she will return — as shadows of her type always do, those memories will be returned to you. But not yet.”

“I feel… so tired…” said Mel quietly, still pressing her face against the warm wool.

“Thou hast been through trauma and horror and an existence you never asked for. The effects are straining your mind, forcing it into lethargy,” replied Ezekiel. “You are commendable and resourceful for lasting this long, buying enough time for myself and Sean to detect her presence and arrive. Sean has returned to our dwelling, but I shall remain with you until you fall back asleep. Then it shall all be as a dream.”

Mel let her fingers sink into the golden wool, fascinated and delighted with the ease with which she was touching something material — a feat that would otherwise take up the majority of her concentration. “You’re really nice… Mr. Ezekiel.” She yawned. “I always… wanted to be friends with a magical creature…”

The sheep wasn’t able to smile but a look of amusement seemed to come over his eyes. “My daughter would make good to become an ally of you, Lady Frost. If you remember this, I would ask you to please be kind to her when you wake up and see her again.” He let out a huge sigh that shook his enormous body. “The iconoclast sleeping upstairs may be foolish and vain in a myriad of ways, but attracting the affection of a woman such as you… perhaps he is redeemable yet. Now sleep.”

Mel closed her eyes and everything disappeared again.

When Cal opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Mel staring at him with wide blue eyes. She was floating above his bed. Her short black hair was even more messy than usual — it stuck up in odd places like she had been running her fingers through it. It would have almost seemed cute if Cal hadn’t been instantly distracted by a heaviness in his head.

He leaned back on his pillows. “Don’t watch me sleep, it’s creepy.”

Mel smirked. “Most boys your age would be delighted to have an adorable ghost tend to their every whim when they’re sick.”

“Most boys don’t have such specific, bizarre considerations.”

She stuck her tongue out and then floated closer. “How do you feel?”

Cal sighed. “Not good, but better, I suppose. A little thirsty.”

Mel nodded. “You have some water there on the bedside table.” She paused. “It’s pretty late. You slept for a long time. Bridget is going to start making dinner soon. And don’t even think about trying to help her.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t.”

Mel poked his forehead with a pale finger. “You suck at lying. Stay still and get better. If you get too sick, you won’t be able to make breakfast anymore, and that would break Ellie’s heart.” She paused again, as if considering something. “Your full name is Pascal, right?”

Cal froze momentarily, and then glared at her with stony eyes. “How do you know that? Bridget told you, right?”

“No, no!” Mel waved her arms in front of her. “She didn’t say anything… wait, why does Bridget know?”

Cal considered lying for a reason he couldn’t even explain to himself, but then decided against it. “Um… well… it came up… in conversation.”

“Mmm,” said Mel icily, “you guys talk about a lot of stuff, huh?”

Cal straightened up on the bed. “You’re avoiding the question. How could you even know that if Bridget didn’t say… I don’t tell people that.”

“I don’t know…” Mel’s blue eyes seemed distant for a moment, “I must have heard it somewhere.”

“You didn’t.”

“I must have… I don’t know… I had a weird day, to tell you the truth. It feels like I was asleep for a lot of it.”

“So you were sleeping on the job? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Cal, I’m being serious.” Mel grimaced annoyed. “It was weird… like I can remember things and not remember things.”

She pursed her lips. “Cal… have you ever fallen in love with someone?”

Cal’s throat felt dry. “Why would you ask me that?” You’re being stranger than usual.”

“Curiosity.” The blue eyes floated closer to Cal. “Just curiosity.”

Cal met the stare without flinching. “No. I haven’t.”

Mel tilted her head. A strand of dark hair fell against her long eyelashes. “Not once? Not a childhood crush? A girl you went out with for a week in middle school?”

“No,” Cal said. “Not ever. Not once.”

Mel nodded to herself, taking this information into account. Then she floated a little further away, spinning slightly in the air in a way that made her sundress dance. When she turned back to face Cal, he saw that there was a smug smile plastered on her face.

“Yes,” Mel nodded again, grinning. “You know, that is exactly what I thought I would hear. That really suits you.”

“You don’t have to take so much glee in it,” Cal muttered, turning over on the bed so he faced away from room 01’s door. “You should stop trying to find joy in others’ misfortune.”

Mel grinned wider. “So… Pascal, huh?”

“Oh, don’t start…”

“Were your parents really big fans of mathematics?”

“Seriously-”

“I’d wager that was the case!”

Their conversation, half-barbed with harsh words, half-warm with mutual affection, continued until Bridget called them down for dinner.