The beginning of something that may or may not continue. Title pending.

The sun shone incongruously. Had Laila been in charge, it would rain all day every day, but particularly today. There was something offensive about the way the light played on the spring leaves, of how the birds warbled and sang in the trees. 

Laila huffed and went back to tying her herb bundles. She ignored the weight of the pale eyes she knew were watching her. They were always watching her. Had been watching her since that night, 9 months ago, when she’d failed the one thing she’d sworn to do: heal and preserve.

Jonash had been an old friend of hers, shared childhood memories binding them more tightly than blood. As with all people they had drifted as they’d gotten older, but never far enough away to truly forget about each other. She was accepted to the University of Science in the city, and he had joined the city watch.

Then the war came. She left for the battle fields as a healer, he a soldier. They had been in the same regiment, and spent many hours in each other’s company when they were able. When the war ended, Laila returned to the city and established a healer’s den with her commission and repute as a savior of many. Jonash remained with the watch for a month before wanderlust got the better of him, and he departed the city to become a member of the Ranger’s Guild. 

Months, then years passed, and still they kept in touch.

Until his replies had grown shorter and distant. Until he’d stopped replying all together.

Laila, accepting his absence with a stoic heart, was content with the fact that he had finally met someone else and moved on. 

And then he appeared on her doorstep in the middle night, bleeding and with an expression that frightened her. He swore at her in a language she didn’t know before falling at her feet, pale with blood loss and pain. She’d done everything she knew to do, even resorting to using what little magic she possessed. 

It wasn’t enough. 

After four hours of her trying desperately to save her friend, she held his head when he died. She closed his light blue eyes, unnerved by the hatred and fear she saw there. As she took her hands away something cold ran up her arms and through her body, leaving her feeling clammy and unclean. When she turned she came face to face with Jonash’s ghost. She screamed once before noticing that he was yelling and gesticulating at her. But he made no noise. He charged her, hands outstretched to strangle her, but they, and then the rest of his incorporeal body, passed through her entirely, leaving her retching on the floor. For some reason his spirit had remained, unable to leave the plain of the living. The ghost tried to leave and made it as far as the front doorstep before being pulled back as if on a string. He tried the window with the same results. 

Laila tried everything she could to communicate and free Jonash, but it was all in vain. The priests had never heard of such a condition, the scientists wanted to study him, and the mages’ spells and incantations only hurt Jonash, much to their irritation. Magic always succeeded when science failed. Or so they had believed. 

And so 9 months had passed. Jonash was invisible to all but Laila and those gifted with the Sight. And as he was unable to influence the world around him in any way, all he could do was stand around and watch Laila. 

“If you’re done staring at my ass, maybe you could stand in the door and deter people from coming in?” Laila said. She had too much to get done today to be interrupted with petty calls about impotence and spots. 

She was met with what she called a sulky silence, and threw a rueful smile over her shoulder at the ghost. Jonash looked up from examining his fingernails and drifted to the door, rolling his eyes. Though Laila struggled with the fact that she had failed to save her friend, she was glad that his ghost wasn’t covered in blood and gore. He looked as she assumed he had before receiving the injuries.

No sooner had he taken up his post at the door did someone gasp with surprise at walking through a ghost. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m closed today!” Laila called.

“How the hell can a healer be closed?” Came the disgruntled response. 

“Unless you or a loved one is bleeding profusely, has a broken bone, or is dying, please come back tomorrow.”

The voice on the other side of the door muttered something. Jonash stepped back through the door to shrug, expression as confused as Laila’s was annoyed. 

“If you let me in, I can help you!”

Laila rolled her eyes heavenward and prayed for strength. 

“When I want an assistant, I will post a listing at the University,” she said, thinking the person at the door was a hopeful student. 

“No, not with that. But I could help you if you nee… No! I can help you with the other thing!”

Laila paused, glancing at Jonash. The ghost shrugged again and leaned against the wall. At some point he’d regained enough solidity to control what he fell through. 

“May as well see what the child has to say?” He mouthed.

Laila stuck her tongue out at him. 

“What do you mean, ‘the other thing’?” She asked.

The voice on the other side of the door dropped to a murmur. The speaker was clearly pressed up agains the lock: “I can’t speak of it out here, but I think I have a solution to your… mutual problem.”

A glimmer of hope sprang up in Laila’s chest. 

“Fine. But make sure no one sees you come in.”

She went to the door and unlocked it. She and Jonash watched, bemused, as a youth slipped through the door with a furtive look that befit a noisy thief. 

“Thank you,” he said, brushing himself off. He looked around a moment before his gaze snagged on Jonash. The ghost flashed a nasty smile at the lad, who blanched and turned away quickly. 

“You can see him?” Laila asked, surprised. The lad didn’t look like a seer, let alone a mage or a priest. 

“Of course I can,” the lad said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Yes, you said that. But how? And why?”

The lad sketched a bow, sweeping the floor with his hat. 

“Clearly I have some explaining to do.” 

Jonash mouthed “Clearly,” and reached out and punched the lad in the back, his hand appearing in his stomach folded in a rude gesture.

“If you could refrain from messing with my internal organs, I thank you,” The lad said, suppressing a shudder. Laila just raised her brows in invitation for him to continue. “To answer your questions, my lady,” he said, readjusting his hat. “I am Arthur Marín, and I believe I have a solution to your ghostly prob-”

“You said that before. But I don’t understand how you can s-“ 

“-lem. And I can see your Jonash because I am a necromancer.”