The Bloody History of Stormcrest

The Jackalope guides me to one door in particular. Her antlers glow for a moment, then the door and its frame shatter and reassemble before my eyes. She looks up at me, as if urging me to step through. I turn the knob and walk into the next room, a large two-story library, with a few desks and tables around. 

“Seath!” I look up to see Lorelei on the second floor, the curse mark on her arm cured. She rushes down the spiral staircase in the corner, skipping the last step, and makes her way over to me. 

“I thought you were a goner!” She says, a relieved smile on her face. 

I shrug. “I almost was. I ran into the ghost of this house, and he had me beat, until this little lady–” I gesture to the Jackalope “– saved my life.”

Lorelei kneels and pets the spirit, scratching around her antlers and stroking her fur. “She helped me too, when I was trapped. She saved me from the wraiths and led me through the manor until we got here.” 

I reach down and pick up the jackalope and set her down on the table. “You led us here for a reason. All this time, I couldn’t sense your presence because the other guy was so powerful, but you’ve been here for a long time, haven’t you?” 

Lorelei comes up beside me, inspecting the creature curiously. “What is she?” 

“She’s a ghost, just like the one who’s been attacking us. Only she is born from a different emotion entirely, and she’s friendly.” 

“Did she come from the same person?” 

I shake my head. “No. She’s someone else entirely, which begs the question, who?” 

Lorelei rubs her chin. “Can’t she talk like the other ghost?”  

“She can’t. She’s not a particularly strong spirit; it probably took all of her strength to take a corporeal form like this, plus she healed both of us. She is, however, the most troublesome type to exorcise.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“I sense anxiety. She was born out of worry for another person’s well-being. Spirits like these cannot be exorcised until their worries are quelled.”

The jackalope hops to the edge of the table and looks over at the painting nestled between two windows, above a desk. It’s the same painting from the study. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” I ask. “In the painting.” 

The little creature looks back at me, as if to confirm my suspicions. I turn to Lorelei. “There is something in this library that can tell us more about these ghosts. We need to find it.” 

“About that,” She says, hesitantly. “The books, they’re all in German, and I can’t read that.” 

That will be a problem. The ghost brought us here for some reason, and I can’t help but think it’s of vital importance. Without understanding who these two spirits are, I can’t exorcise them, which means even if I were to confront the other Ghost with my full strength, I’d eventually be beaten. 

Something in this library has some sort of powerful connection to them. Perhaps I could exploit that somehow? 

An idea hits me. A foolish, potentially fatal idea. But it’s the only thing I can think of to work around this situation. I summon my grimoire and lay it flat on the table, opening it to one of the pages near the back. It is an array like a poppy flower, with geometry all around it. 

“What is this?” Lorelei asks, approaching me. “A magic circle?” 

“It’s a spell that lets me peer into someone’s memories, but I have been told that it is unwise to use it on a spirit. The spell is made for the living; it can have unintended consequences,” I explain. 

“Like what?” 

“A living being will naturally push out things that invade its mind. A spirit will not. To put it simply, I risk having my own spirit devoured by hers.” 

Lorelei blinks at me. Her expression is completely blank. “I don’t know what that means.” She whispers. 

“I could die,” I clarify. 

“Is there anything I could do to help?” She asks. 

I study her for a moment. “If I do this, I’ll be vulnerable through the process. Look after me while I’m out?” 

She nods. “Don’t die, okay? I have a lot more questions about magic.” 

I move my grimoire between the jackalope and me. We lock eyes. “Show me the past. Show me the true nature of the Ghost of Stormcrest.” 

The circle glows in rainbow colors, and I close my eyes. The experience is strange, to say the least. It’s like I am being torn out of my body and sucked into the mind of the jackalope. All of my senses disappear when I enter the spirit’s mind. I can neither see nor hear, I feel nothing except the vague sensation of my being drifting through space. It is as if I am made of smoke, and I do everything I can to keep myself together. My very essence is untethered and all-too-easily melds into the magical presence all around me.

No! I have to focus. I need to stay together, I can’t let the spirit’s mind absorb me. I need to anchor myself, I need to remember who I am and hold onto that. But it is so hard, in this ethereal, disconnected state, I am separated from my mind and by extension my memories. 

There must be something – something vital to my identity, a memory so powerful it is etched into my very soul. 

I can feel something. I see –without eyes– a luna moth, glowing softly, flapping its wings and flying through the void. I focus on the moth, and I begin to regain my senses. I reach out with the arm I don’t have, and my essence touches the little creature. 

I remember now. 

There is a cool breeze in the air. The little stretch of nature follows a river and bisects this part of the city. It is a pretty park that provides this urban landscape with a much-needed greenspace. Across the river, there is a tree where a woman sits. She has long bluish-black hair draped down her back, and she wears a knitted white cardigan and a black skirt down to her ankles. She is barefoot and has a funny white hat on, like a witch. 

I know this woman. On her left hand is a circle like a snowflake with an orb at its center. I know in my heart it represents the full moon. 

I approach the river and cross using the row of large stones sticking out of the water. It’s precarious, and I nearly lose my balance a couple of times, but I manage to make it to the other side without falling in. I approach the woman, and she looks up from her book, a slight smile on her face and her beautiful, perfect crystal blue eyes locked on me. 

The mere sight of her robs me of my breath and my strength for a moment. I can do nothing but return her gaze, taking in her pretty, porcelain skin and her soft, cold lips. 

“Hello Seath,” she says, her voice gentle and sweet-sounding. 

I remember this moment now, clear as can be. I reach my hand out to her, and she takes it. I help her to her feet, and she looks up at me. 

“Elatha Yukiko,” I remember saying. “I need to tell you that I am in love with you. I love you with every part of my soul. My very spirit belongs to you, it always will. Please allow me to be by your side!”

She looks stunned for a brief moment. “There is so much you don’t yet know about me –” 

“I don’t care! I don’t care about your past or where you came from. I have been searching all my life for you, and I didn’t even know it until the moment I first saw those beautiful eyes. I am impossibly, irrevocably in love with you and nothing can change that. Yukiko, my heart aches every second we are apart with a yearning I never even knew I could feel. I will follow you anywhere and do anything for you. I will accept everything about you, no matter what.” 

“You are a sweet man,” she says, reaching up to stroke my face. “But you know that I am a Witch, I have powerful enemies. I can’t put you in danger –” 

“I’ll fight them all for you, powerless though I am. There is nothing that can scare me away.” 

“I have many secrets, my dear Seath.” 

“I want to learn them all. I want to know every single thing about you!” I grip her shoulders. “Don’t you understand? There is nothing you can say that can dissuade me.” 

“You would… have to leave your old life behind to follow me,” she replies, her voice shrinking to a whisper as she leans into me. 

My hands slide down her back, and I hold her small frame. “I’ll never look back.” 

She wraps her arms around me, her fingers becoming tangled in my hair, and I lean down and press my lips against hers. 

“Mmm,” she breathes against my lips. 

As we slowly pull away and look into each other’s eyes, I reach up and touch her silky cheek. My heart is pounding like never before. “I will always be yours, forever.” 

“My sweet Wolf,” She whispers. She closes her eyes and I close mine. We embrace, and she buries her face in my chest. And in that moment I feel an incredible surge of energy within me. It is like a new sense inside me awakens, and with it I can feel the presence and power of the full moon. A powerful chill runs through my veins and I feel an intense tingling on my left hand. Yukiko and I separate, and I take a step back and look. Her magic sigil now marks my skin. 

I take her hand in mine and drop down to one knee. “I will use this power to serve you until the day that I die.” 

She smiles at me and says, “I love you.” 

As I fade from the memory, I find myself back in front of Stormcrest Manor, but it looks different. Far from the dilapidated ruin I saw earlier, the manor looks in its prime – pristine, clean, perfect, and full of life. There are servants around the grounds, tending to the flowers or the hedges, and an elaborate stagecoach waits off to the side. 

The jackalope sits just before the doors. She hops toward me and transforms into the young woman from the painting, in an old blue and white dress, with her curly black hair pinned up and a little hat on her head. 

“Wolf of the Full Moon,” She says. “I am Annaliese Sturm. Please come with me, and allow me to share with you the bloody history of Stormcrest, and the cruel fate of its young lord Erwin Sturm.”