Valkyrie of Desire

28. The Half Forgotten

Demons corrupt souls from within

Devils purchase them with soft lies

While djinn seduce best with hard truth

Never seek what should not be caught

—Commander Gloriana Eeffane

Hildr walks into the library's hallway. Her boots track mud in, marring an immaculate floor. She bends down and rubs her palm across a tile in front of her. Not a speck of dust.

A gust of chill air comes from deeper in, blowing past her through the door and wiping away the filth she had brought. Her heart flutters. Unpredictable and unseen, even the Ultramarine Crusade hesitates to use ghosts, despite their shared alignment.

She stifles a cough with her fist and turns a corner, almost kicking an androgynous frog-like humanoid. Azure blue in the lamplight and knee-high, it floats up to her face. This beebo is a ghost.

Eyes bulging, Hildr swats, but her hand passes through the specter. She screams, and it opens its wide mouth.

So much for the wraith ward. Scrambling backwards, she abandons the lamp. The beebo floats over to it. She yips and turns, stumbling to the entrance in a few thudding heartbeats. Light filters in from the doorway. She slows with a half-grin. At least the blue-eyed guardsman cared enough to leave it open.

"Excuse me."

Hildr leaps half out of her boots. "No! Don't touch me."

The ghostly beebo scratches its rubbery head and points with webbed fingers. "You forgot your lamp."

Hildr stops back-stepping. Ghosts do not help.

"Are you Ruse?" she says.

"Correct." Ruse floats around her. "Your warmth is more than adequate. I will follow you and feast upon your plentiful soul."

"Wait!"

It hovers with glowing hands a fingers-length from her arm. What is this thing? It flew to her faster than she can run and by its own admission wants to feast upon her soul. Yet, it retains some self-control and courtesy, and the lantern's ward had no effect on it.

"What are you?" she says.

"I am an astral projection of Russo Minark's masculine aspect with scholastic focus. You may call me Mr Librarian Ruse."

"So, you're not a ghost?"

"I am a fledgling djinn, which is ghost-adjacent. If you are looking for a true ghost, I know a wraith. She is much more interesting than I am."

"Mr Librarian Ruse, I don't want to know about her. Let me understand you."

The spirit moves his finger in a circle on his wide forehead and slashes across it. "My soul is not whole because it has been divided rather than broken. I am bound to this place. The power nexus here sustains me and helps me grow. I aspire to one day float under the sun without fading, something not even a wraith or wendigo can do."

Hildr hugs herself. She has never talked with a djinn before, but she has seen them in battle. A single one, full in its cyclonic power, can knock a company of infantry onto their backs.

She says, "I feel your chill. My aura shrinks from your hunger. Yet the supposed ward under my lantern failed to keep you at bay."

"Yes, it is fine-tuned ward that does not quite apply to me. Living bodies of people do help sustain my mind, but I only need a nibble. The worst symptom is a yawn, and I always ask permission."