Of Ghosts

The elf wasn't anyone she recognized. She had known the others she had encountered, either personally or by their armor. This ghost was a civilian, though. She worse a simple, white nightgown, and a river of blood ran from her throat, which had been slit.

"They lied," the woman said, her voice wispery and almost inaudible. Achaena thought for a moment that she had imagined it. "They lied to you."

"Who lied?" She asked. "Who are you?" She wasn't particularly afraid - only the strongest ghosts could harm the living - and she didn't feel that this ghost meant to do her harm.

The woman floated forward, reaching out for her. She felt a chill as the ghost's hand cupped her cheek. "I would never abandon you ... my daughter."

She froze. Years of resentment, of hurt and anger, surfaced momentarily, before melting away. "Mother?" Her voice trembled. This had to be some kind of trick. She'd always been told ... but the dead weren't supposed to be able to lie. Not like the living could. And, when she was younger, hadn't she believed everything the Masters said?

The woman looked like her, tall and willowy, though her features were bleached in undeath. She enveloped Akkie in a cold, yet loving, embrace. "They killed me," the ghost whispered. "I could only watch as they twisted you, tortured you. Made you like them." Her voice held horror and pain. "That wasn't the life I wanted for you. It broke my heart."

"Mother, I - " The ghost pressed a finger to her lips.

"Shh." Her mother offered a sad smile. "This wasn't what I wanted for you, but it brings my soul a measure of peace to know that you are strong enough to survive the cruel world I brought you into. My only regret is that I could not - can not - be there for you." 

Already, I can feel my rest calling.

Be strong, and brave.

My daughter."

Her spirit faded. There came a sense of profound peace.

She sank to her knees, silent tears streaking down her cheeks. Her world had been set upside down.