[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth shuddered in the cold night air, and drew her cloak more firmly about her shoulders. Her hand was wrapped tightly about her lighted wand, but she had remembered to bring along several other things. Her family's book was hidden beneath her sash, along with a bottle of water, a few scraps of food, a small silver dagger, and a tiny embroidered piece along with needle and floss that she'd been working on earlier that day.

The girl had watched with disappointment as Bethberry became ill, choosing to leave their group and find her own way on separate forest paths. But, now, as the band drew closer to the Castle, Andreth had suddenly felt strangely light-headed. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, wondering if she would soon take sick. But there was no hint of fever or chills, only a curious sensation that everything about her was not quite right.

When they stood under the wall that surrounded the grounds, Andreth gently extended her fingers towards the old stonework, cleary a thing of great beauty that was now but a half-crumbled ruin. How lovely this place must have been when Maladil and his bride had first made it their home. How much hope must have dwelled here!

The stone felt cold and rough under her fingertips as she stood and stroked it, feeling its texture with the experienced hand of an artisan. Then something happened that Andreth had not expected, and which she certainly could not explain. Her hand was gliding harmlessly along the worn surface of the wall, when suddenly the stone itself seemed to flicker and melt. Her fingertips sunk into the stonework at least an inch or two, much to her shock and dismay. Hastily, she wrenched back her arm, and stared down at her hand, which now appeared to be completely normal.

Her heart pounded rapidly, as she again reached out to feel the exterior of the wall. Only this time, everything seemed perfectly normal. Andreth tried to hide the look of alarm on her face, and wondered if any of the others had just seen what had happened to her, or if they were also beginning to have problems of their own. She could tell that several in the group were nervous and excited, but no one except herself seemed the least bit concerned about the wall.

Forcing her eyes and hands away from the wall, Andreth stared off into the Castle grounds, and, much to her surprise, saw the perfectly clear outline of eight separate ghosts. They were as distinct and vivid as people standing directly in front of her would be. She could see every curve of their skeleton-like bodies, every article of clothing they wore.

Becoming even more alarmed, Andreth tugged hard at Poppy's dress. "Can you see that?" She pointed to the figure standing closest to them and began giving an intricate description of his waistcoat and breeches to the hobbit. Poppy turned around and gave her a very strange look. Perhaps, mused Andreth, I am becoming ill! For, the next time she glanced out and stared across the lawn, the only thing she could see was a series of indistinct lights. All the ghosts, their clothing and weapons and the other things they were carrying, seemed to have totally disappeared.

The girl felt a wave of nausea and disbelief come flooding over her. She reached out with trembling hand to grip the edge of the wall, in an effort to clear her head and keep upright on her feet. But it was all to no avail. Andreth felt her knees give way as she slid helplessly to the ground, while everything around her went grey and hazy. The last thing she recalled before unconsciousness set in was wondering if Kenelm and his sister were among the eight ghosts she'd seen.

[ February 04, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]