The sound of Sybil's voice sent an icy wave of uneasiness cascading down my spine. Though I had heard spirit voices before—echoes of the past, pleas for help—something about hers unsettled me deeply. Perhaps it was the year-long wait, the unbearable silence that had followed her disappearance, or the cold realization that I was now face-to-face with her lingering essence. No, I couldn’t let those thoughts consume me. Maria's voice pierced through my turmoil, a reminder of our bond. It is not your fault.

“Help me… Please... Help me...” Sybil's voice reverberated once more, drawing my attention back to her spectral form. Her ethereal presence shimmered in and out of focus, a haunting reminder of the life she once lived, now marred by tragedy. A fact that we missed for more than a year now. A fact that will bother me for years to come.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to focus and not dwell on the fact that we let this go on as long as it has. “How?” My voice was steadier than I felt.

“Free me…” she breathed, her tone laced with desperation. “My body… free me…” her message was clear. She wanted to be set free. She wanted to rest, however, in order to do that I needed to know where to find her. I just had to hope that her spirit had enough energy to tell me.

I scratched my head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The lack of clarity in her words was maddening. “Where are you?” I asked once more in hopes to glean a more specific answer from her, considering I had yet to get one.

“I’m in Water… Cold… Burned…” she paused, each word weighed down with sorrow. “She burned me.” That last message was loud and clear. Crimson utilized her specialty of fire and destroyed Sybil's body. For the rest of the message, water and cold... could be anything. I thought to myself.

A rush of heat raced down my spine, a visceral reaction to the negative energy she was projecting. The sensation was overwhelming, and I could almost feel the searing pain of her last moments. “Sybil, I…” My voice faltered as I struggled for words. The memory of her torment at the hands of Crimson surged through me, a vivid reminder of the malevolence we faced. I felt pain in every blood vessel. In every muscle. The nerves of my body shutting down. My body's defense failing. My body... chard. No... this is her. Not me. I reminded myself as the sensation slowly began to vanish away from me.

“She tricked me… Said she was Queen Astrid… lied.” The anguish in her voice sliced through me like a dagger, and a flash of memory sparked in my mind—a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Queen, leading Sybil down to the creek. I couldn’t hear the words they exchanged, but the image felt heavy with betrayal. I knew then from the what I was given, Crimson portrayed the Queen and killed Sybil as she was looking like the Queen.

“Said… I was needed for project… Project Soul? I’m sorry.” Sybil's head hung low, her gaze avoiding mine. The shame she carried was palpable, a weight that pressed down on me from her. I reached my hand out to her, as I wanted to comfort her but couldn't grasp onto anything.

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“I’m sorry,” I repeated, the words sounding inadequate against the enormity of her pain. The pain that she made me feel through the spell that I casted. “I failed you.” The admission hung in the air, heavy and filled with regret. I knew it wasn't completely my fault but deep down, I felt like I caused this. Like I caused her death as I knew if I had paid closer attention when I felt Crimson's presence all that time ago, I knew we would be in a different position we are in. No matter what Maria says, part of this is on me.

She shook her head, her translucent form trembling slightly. “No. I failed the Princess.” She confessed. I felt a wave of failure drift into me. I knew she felt responsible and I knew it wasn't her fault.

“No, you did not,” I said softly, desperation creeping into my voice. “You did your duty. Now you must rest.” My heart ached for her, for the burden she bore alone.

Again, she shook her head, this time more vehemently. “I can’t…” Her voice quivered, a fragile whisper that echoed the torment she was trapped in.

“Why?” I pressed, needing to understand the depth of her suffering.

“Trapped… they trapped me here,” she replied, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. The gravity of her predicament settled in my stomach like a stone. They had ensured her suffering.

“Can I help you move on?” I asked, my mind racing with possibilities. If Marcel truly trapped her Soul here perhaps there was a way I could help her move on and into the afterlife. Afterall, she dissevered that at least.

She smiled softly, though the expression was tinged with sorrow. “Free my body… tell them… save her.” Her words were fragmented, but the urgency was clear. She wanted me to find her body, to inform the Council, and to protect Maria. Even from the afterlife, Sybil was still loyal to the kingdom, she still cared.

“I will,” I promised, determination flooding my veins. “I’m already working on it.”

“Good…” Her voice trailed off, and for a moment, silence enveloped us, heavy and filled with unspoken thoughts. I took a breath, knowing this moment was fleeting. “Where can I find your body, Sybil?” I asked, desperation creeping back into my voice. As I hoped now that I knew the truth she would reveal any details that may help us.

She paused, her form flickering as if struggling to maintain its solidity. “I…” she hesitated, gathering her thoughts. “Pharo Creek… Big old Tree… Buried…”

“Thank you, Sybil. I’m so sorry,” I said, a deep sorrow welling within me as her form began to dissipate, the spell’s energy waning.

“I’m sorry, Captain. Take care of our Kingdom… Our Queen.” Her voice faded, leaving a haunting echo that lingered in the air.

“I will. Rest easy now,” I whispered, watching as her ghostly figure faded into nothingness.

I sat in silence for a moment, allowing the weight of her words to settle. Sybil deserved this pause, this moment of respect. I had a clear direction now—I knew where to look.

I know where to look, I told Maria. I hoped by now Maria was with Tracker and we could start on this immediately.

Good… The Tracker is interesting, Maria replied, and I could sense her rush of uneasiness through the bond. It prompted me to pull into her vision, seeking to understand her perspective.