“Not now. You’ve had all day to speak to me. I need to relax, and sleep, and now you stir? Leave me alone. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning.”
He hurt us.
“You’re spirits. How can he hurt you?”
He targets the power inside us, and hurts it.
“Is he holy, then?”
No. He is a Canceller. He toys with us because he enjoys it. Nothing more.
I got the gist, but I figured there was probably a lore involved that Gran didn’t detail, and I didn’t know. It was a topic for another time, and in private. “Why not kill him?”
If we do, they’ll come for you. They can’t see us. They won’t, even if we manifest ourselves. They’ll extract your likeness from his dying mind, and they’ll come for you.
“Oh. So is there a plan, or even better, a solution?”
It won’t matter now that he knows we’re here, and you possess us.
“Not so sure it’s me controlling you. Now I can feel your presence, your power, soaking through me like sweat.”
I’m releasing the magic at a pace your body can handle. My name is Abdiel, at your service.
With the power of taking his name, ancient as it was, I stumbled and leaned on the wall to steady myself. The visions came through like a flash flood: majestic, tragic, carnal, joyous, pious, cultish, and all the flesh taking and blood letting that came with it.
Seen in a torrent of faces and times were all the souls these spirits dealt with through the centuries, and perhaps even reaped.
I didn’t ask, because I simply didn’t want to know.
“And now,” I said, after I could breathe again, ”I’ll be woven into your tapestry forever.”
And I into yours, child.
“If you don’t kill me first. I only ask this: that my mind and will must always be my own.”
So granted, for the bond your grandmother shared with us.
“Don’t make a bargain you won’t keep. If you take them from me, and put innocent blood on my hands, I will end my life. If I do, the Canceller will be the least of your troubles.”
Abdiel faded, not answering.
Doesn’t mean he’s afraid of me. Guess we’ll see.