A New World, an immersive game experience

Unsure how to respond, Vivian stayed silent as she processed things. Still trying to piece together what her unique ability was, and why it allowed her to see the spirits of the dead.

It had taken her a great deal of effort and time to learn how to control it. Eldrian's talks about magic had helped her, but it wasn't the same.

While channeling mana through her allowed her to talk with Dorak, it was not the key. It was a rather crude brute force method she had decided to rely on.

She knew from experience with Eldrian, that the right way wasn't the only way. It was possible to get the correct, or close enough, results without the correct steps. It was an Eldrian classic.

Eldrian would call it mind over matter, or mind over magic. It was the essence of dynamic casting, and it was with this that Vivian was forcing her conversation with Dorak.

By envisioning in her mind the ability to talk with the dead, and then empowering that vision with all the mana she had, she had succeeded. But, alas, she did not know what to do now that she had talked with Dorak.

She felt it too cruel to leave or ask more of him, but she needed assistance if she was to master her ability. And, sadly, the only ones who can help her master this ability of her were those who have already passed and left a spirit wandering Gaia.

"Is there anything you want me to tell the others?" Vivian asked. Hoping to be of some help to Dorak in return. "Something you want them to relay to Vera, perhaps?"

"Nah." Dorak said, shaking his head from side to side. "I've already told them all I needed to. And I left knowing I might die. Vera knows it too. I made sure my last days at home were special so she wouldn't forget me."

A pause ensued, and after a while, Vivian asked, "If that is the case... why are you still here?" It sounded rude, but she knew that the spirits she saw wandering around didn't last long.

She had assumed this happened when they accomplished what held them to the world, but now it seemed that didn't matter.

She had linkened it to dying while falling asleep. A peaceful, calm end. They weren't violently torn apart like lingering souls, but they slowly dissipated into the air. Turning to nothing.

It was only after watching the process hundreds of times that Vivian figured out what was happening. Needing to recall all she knew of resurrection magic and the afterlife, and recalling the time she had nearly died in the chaos lands after Eldrian had come to save her.

It was this memory that had been the key. Recalling Itireae's mumblings as she had resurrected Eldrian, and her reasons for why she could not save Sabrea. That was the final key for her to understand that was she was seeing were not souls, but spirits. Or so she had come to call them.

She still wasn't sure what the difference was, but she knew that somehow these spirits could linger in the world of the living. And not as abhorrent mutations of undead. They kept their natural appearances and minds.

Of course, Vivian had seen the undead use these same spirits for their ill experiments and powers. But these spirits weren't technically undead. They were dead, but no longer living. Yet, somehow, they still wandered.

They also weren't ghosts or any similar adaptation of soul manipulation. Sadly, Vivian knew very little on this topic, most of the books with this knowledge kept under strict lock and key.

'Or rather, ghosts might be spirits who wished for life again? And to achieve this, they attack the living? To feed off of their lifeforce...' Sadly, Vivian knew very little of this very lifeforce that was the essence of all living things.

How she wished she could talk with Eldrian on this, but that would have to wait. She had much she could figure out on her own before turning to Eldrian.

"Would you mind helping... helping me figure out why I can see you, and talk to you?"

"Thought you'd never ask! I'm curious as well, you know. I was planning to go see Vera, but alas..." Dorak sighed, looking towards where his pyre had been lit.

His ashes, along with all the other fallen, would be taken to the city of Braxhold. Sadly, it was all mixed together. There wasn't enough wiggle room for the dwarves to offer individual pyres to every fallen soldier.

"You can't wander far from..." Vivian struggled to say it. It felt too uncaring, too cold. Dorak, or whatever remained in this wandering spirit of his, had no such worries.

"Aye, can't wander far from my ashes. When I tried, it felt like I was losing pieces of myself."

"The dissipation." Vivian mumbled.

"The what?"

"It's what I call it. You know the limitations on resurections? It exists because souls are ripped apart without a body to inhabit. I don't know why, but spirits—that is what I am calling existences such as your current self—don't experience the same voilent destruction. But... you still dissipate."

"I see! But I have no body, just ashes. How come I'm not dissapearing?"

"That is what I am trying to figure out. Will you be willing to help?"

"Of course!"

—

Vivian and Spirit Dorak spent the following hours talking and experimenting. Knowing he was already dead and having no regrets, Dorak didn't mind if their experiments ended up dissipating him.

He continued to push Vivian so they could figure out the limits, until finally, he dissipated. Watching the last phantom pieces of him disappearing into the wind, Vivian couldn't contain her tears.

She forced herself to smile, but tears kept falling. It took her a long time to recover. While always conscious that Dorak was already dead, somewhere along the line she had failed to understand its meaning as she conversed with him.

Like a kid who didn't understand death, she learned the pain of it all over again.

But it wasn't without its rewards. She had learned much. For instance, Dorak's spirit could not control mana, yet he had still performed rudimentary spells. As he was a warrior first and a craftsman second, mage last, this was impressive.

How Dorak had described it was like his breath was turning into the magic. Mana felt like a hot flow inside the body when channeled. Similar to when you drink a warm coffee or tea, or a strong alcoholic beverage.

However, Dorak had been adamant that this wasn't the same.

"No, kid, listen..." He had said as Vivian failed to understand. "It isn't like ale or mead. It isn't warm or cold. It's my very breath. The air of life that I breathe—breathed... Think of when you sigh and release all you pent up stress or frustration, those emotions leaving with your breath. That's what it feels like, but more powerful! Like you are breathing the power of life into your spells!"

Sadly, no matter how much Vivian tried, she couldn't manage anything similar. Every time she tried to summon a spell, she channeled her mana.

What she did manage, however, was to skip needing a spell module completely.

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:)