The study was a bit small. Not truly a proper library, like I assumed from the double doors, but I do suppose it provides a cozy environment in which to perform his research. All the walls were covered in bookshelves, there was a somewhat modest desk for this house over in the corner and no windows… Something is off.

“This is the room you requested, Master Branner. Do you require any further assistance?” Lance was looking rather uncomfortable in this room. It wasn’t the one his brother was killed in, but it did have one of the more memorable events occur. Still, I require his help. He hasn’t been here long enough to have been the one who summoned demon, and has the motivation to see to it I complete my task. I’ll just have to make him tough it out.

“Yes I do. If you would, please tell me what you know about the incident that took place here.” If I keep him talking, it should also keep him distracted. Might not take his mind off the unpleasant feelings, but it will give him something to do.

“Of course… *Ahem* After escalating events relating to the paranormal activity in the estate, Mr. Patrik…”

While he tells his story, it’s time to see what we can see. I look to Con. He had this incredibly odd look on his face. If I had to describe it, I would say ecstatic. I can’t imagine he’s had much time around books. A whole new world for him to explore lies in every wall surrounding him. Of course, he can’t quite access them yet.

He picks up a book, flips it open and frowns. He just figured it out, too. I walk over to him, thinking about why I really need him here. Lance is continuing his explanation behind me. He’s gesturing around the room and not paying attention to me. Thankfully.

I quietly whisper to Con, “I’ll teach you to read some other time. Start seeing what kinds of feelings you can sense.” I cross back around the room to examine the desk. Lance’s story was coming to a quick close.

“…making a full recovery and resuming his normal duties. The room has not been declared off limits, but no one wishes to explore it after the incident.”

“Hmm, yes of course.”

What is wrong with this desk? It’s been calling to me since I first entered. Screaming out that something is wrong, yet I can’t hear it.

“Con! What do you notice about this piece of furniture?”

“Uh, it looks kinda nice, I guess?”

“…That was wonderfully helpful. Thank you.” Shouldn’t act so sarcastic. Bound to hurt his feelings. “Lance, do you see anything wrong with it?”

“No sir. Seems the same as ever.”

“But it’s not. There is something wrong with it. Something wrong with this room.”

I set my bag down and pull out a few things. Some twine, chalk, a ruby colored gem, and most importantly, an apple. I place the twine in a large circle in the center of the room. Using the chalk, I draw perpendicular, intersecting lines. I set the gem down where they cross. I stand to examine my work.

“What are you doing, Master Branner?”

“Just call me Branner. And I’m trying to see if I can detect what’s wrong in this room. Assuming there’s some kind of spirit in here, this gem will light up.”

“I see. And what is the apple for, sir?”

“Oh this?” I hold the apple up. “I’m just hungry.” I take a bite and go back to ensuring the circle isn’t off. Chalk lines are straight. Gem should still have some energy in it. Time to start.

I begin the chant, enticing the energy in the gem to show me what made this room feel so odd. I could sense some presence manipulating the flow of spiritual pressure around me, but what it was, what it was doing, and why this room was so special, I couldn’t tell. The gem hums, not glowing just yet. Wind whips up around me, as I feel my body become weary. The spell was doing its job, draining me of some energy to complete its work. Everything was building to a boiling point. Soon it would-

“What?!” The sensation cut out. No more drain. No more wind. The gem just sat there, like the shiny rock it now was. I believe I used up what was left in it for nothing.

“…what’s supposed to happen, Branner?” I turn and see Con on all fours, staring at the now lifeless jewel in the middle of the room. I didn’t know what to say to him. Well, I suppose I could answer his very simple question.

“Assuming there was a spirit in here, the gem would light up with energy. From there, I could have summoned the being here, and bound it in the circle. But something went wrong…”

“There was no spirit here.” This time Lance pipes up. He said that like he knew.

“So there wasn’t. Care to chime in as to why, Mr. Welling?” He turns a beet-red. What is he hiding?

“I- Well, it’s just- There are patterns to the occurrences. They transfer slowly from room to room. Since the last thing to happen was in the entrance hall, I would say by tomorrow something would happen in the grand hall…” His voice slowly trailed off until his last words were barely a whisper. He’s looking at me, and I can guess why. My eyes are wide with surprise. Lance was declaring a pattern that most anyone else should have seen, and more importantly, told me about.

“How do you know this? You’ve only been working here three days. Not enough time to be so sure of a pattern. Not to mention, we injured the demon occupying the entrance. He’ll likely be out of commission for a while.”

Lance resumed his servantly demeanor. He spoke with as much calm as he could gather, which wasn’t much.

“I would wander all around here when my brother still worked for the Maladars. That is why I know the layout of the estate so well. How I came to notice these patterns with the attacks. It’s the reason, I think, that Doctor Maladar agreed to giving me a job. I already knew how much of the house operated.”

“Right, right, but that’s not the point. You noticed a pattern. A very simple one at that, but you noticed it, nonetheless. Why didn’t anyone else? Why didn’t you tell them? Why didn’t you tell me until now?”

The boy was getting nervous. He’s still hiding something. What else could he be-

“Branner, ya may wanna turn around…” Con was entranced with the gem, which now shone with a brilliant light. And it was getting brighter.

No time to think.

“Stand back, boys. You’re about to see something rather… interesting.”

I close my eyes and focus on a realm of pure ethereal. My thoughts leave my body, and I channel some spirit to do the work I need done.

“Anima continet… uinculis alligandum…”

The words poured out of my mouth, but I was not saying them. I barely heard the first two lines before I lost my connection with the physical world.

Instead, I was floating in a place of color with no form. The air around me seemed to twist with a whimsical nature, an attempt to make me lose focus. To lose your mind here is to lose yourself. You can’t go back. And I can’t let that happen.

That should have been enough time. I push my will outward and reach out for my own body again. The world around me reacts, changing from the soothing formless color, to a malevolent emotion, trying to engulf me. I touch the back of my own head and pull myself in. Such harrowing experiences should really be reserved for an occasion where I can plan for death, but I’ve yet to memorize the spell for this situation.

I return to my body to find myself on my knees, my arms, lazily collapsed at my sides. The spirit must have just jumped ship when it felt my return. It won’t cause any trouble and will be pulled back to the other side when necessary. Time to wander the earth is the payment for its services. I start to open my eyes, ready to-

My cheek stings with a rather sharp pain that shudders throughout my whole face.

“BRANNER! ARE YOU IN THERE?!” Con was shouting in my ear. It would appear he’s a bit worried about me.

“Yes, I’m fine Con. The slap was unnecessary. The yell was annoying. Anything else you’d like to do?” I give him a quick glare. He jumps back to his feet with a huge grin on his face. He turns and addresses Lance.

“See! Told ya he was okay!”

I pull myself to my feet and examine my work. The string on the ground was shining a curtain of light upwards, entrapping a spirit within. The smoke-like being inside let out some low moans, likely lamenting its current predicament.

“So, Master Branner, what is this?”

“This, Mr. Welling, is a ghost. And I told you before, just call me Branner.”