Wealth In Love

“I know, I know. It sounds like a massive risk and, yes, I know I kinda sorta owe you my soul and unborn children at this point, but I’m telling you this’ll settle up all that and more!”

Kathian had not missed a breath, endlessly speaking at me since the moment I had arrived at the bar where we had agreed to meet. I was not sure why I had expected anything different. I had not even been able to able to order myself a drink before he shoved a tablet in my direction and started detailing his latest ass-backward scheme: flipping a haunted house.

“Of course, finding a buyer might take some time once we’ve got the place cleaned out, but here’s the thing: the municipality’s been haunted - heh, get it? - by this for decades now. They’d pay us beautifully just for fixing their little poltergeist problem.”

I could feel the veins in my head already primed to burst as I slowly cycled through the images of the building in question. It was massive, easily suited for two families or more - perhaps it could make for a good apartment or perhaps joint tenancy situation. The exterior was well maintained, the building only showing its age by virtue of its architectural style from eras past. Notably, there were no photos of the interior.

Kathian only broke his string of words when the waiter came by and set two drinks down on the table. They placed a tall, heated glass garnished with a cinnamon stick in front of me, the aroma alone enough to ease my growing irritation.

“Still your favorite for cold weather, right?”

I sighed, placed my elbow on the table and cheek in my hand and looked at him for the first time since I had sat down. “Kath, you have a gambling problem.”

“What ever do you mean? I’ve never so much as been near a betting circle.” That cocksure smile was unflinching.

“What in the veil do you even know about exorcising ghosts? And if you say something stupid about physical exercise, I’m gonna reach across this table and strangle you.”

He chuckled and lifted his hands in mock surrender, “alright, alright. But seriously, it’s not so much exorcising it as helping it move on. All we need to do is commune with it, see what’s up, fulfill it’s little wish, and bam-boom it drifts off to wherever the cosmos and we profit. Ah, don’t give me that look. What’s it you think I’ve been doing since I disappeared?”

“Something incredibly stupid.” I mused into my drink.

As if he did not hear me at all, “I’ve been learning from those occultists. Now, I ain’t no master at communion like some of ’em, but I bought some supplies off of ’em - incense and such - and they said anyone can do it. We just gotta be careful.”

I twisted my mouth and sighed, “how much is the property?”

“I talked ’em down to eighteen thousand trade scribs.”

“That’s…not horrible.”

“Right?”

“Fine, we’ll go see it tomorrow.”

Of course, he had no place to stay so I allowed him to stay with me. We got up as early as possible to view the house, the seller, a young man, completely accommodating without the thought of question. As soon as we arrived, he marched up to me, wide eyed, and clasped my hand between his.

“Madame, I can’t thank you enough.” Before I could respond, he had turned over my hand and placed a key and what looked like a deed in it. “You’ll find everything in order. The estate has been completely signed over to you in accordance with Commonality law.” He was moving faster than I could process. He locked eyes with me momentarily before smiling, “you really do look like her, by the way,” and then he was off, whisking past me toward the main road and climbing into his vehicle. Kathian was simply waiting for me to turn to him.

I hastily examined the deed placed in my hand noticing that my own signature and the agreed payment amount were already filled in.

“Now all there’s to get rid of the little spooky ghost. Shouldn’t be to hard really--”

The entire right side of my skull felt like it was going to cave in on itself.

“I’ve irked out how we’re going to get rid of this spirit. Quite simply, it - well, he - longs to have his wife returned to him after she was whisked away by bandits,” why did he sound like he was regaling an epic for campfire night? “Since the day the bandits left him for dead and took her from here, no one’s been able to so much as enter the place without incident. As young Master Baurnich already stated, you happen to look quite--”

“For once, just don’t even pretend you’re going to let me know what’s going on, okay?”

He offered no verbal response then and simply fished an old pendant from his pocket and handed it to me. It appeared to be one half of a whole. Kathian stated I should dawn it about my neck by the string on which it hung as he began to to assemble a small fire and set upon it an incense burner. In a haze of pale indigo, I followed him through the grand doors into the desiccated interior.

I can only describe it as an oppressive energy. Like a weight pushing down on my shoulders and pressing in on my chest. I grabbed at the pendant hanging around my neck and thrust it forward, speaking as instructed, “Benauld, please! It’s me!”

The response was almost instant. The pale smoke surrounding us whirled into shape before my eyes. The form of a middle-aged man reached out to me and embraced me, just as real as any embrace I had ever felt.

“My dear, forgive me,” he bellowed,” I am so sorry. I don’t…it has been so long. So very long.”

I sank into his welcoming arms, suddenly accost by memories separate from my own. Memories of long nights spent gazing across open fields. Memories of finding this land and building a community. Of raising children together. Of screaming matches and tearful apologies. Of protecting our livelihood against an ever-dangerous world. Of the day we gave everything we had to protect the lives we had worked so hard to nurture.

“Tel?” Kathian’s voice ripped me into the present.

Where I had once felt warmth, I suddenly felt cold. Lost. I found myself on my knees, clutching half of a pendant covered in dried blood. I wiped warm tears from my face and pushed myself to my feet. Kathian looked like he was about to open his mouth, but I took his hand in mine and placed the old pendant in it. “We ain’t selling this house.”