Excerpt: Prince of the Moon II: Counter the Spirit

The next day, Toris was not surprised when the stranger didn't eat any of the food offered. Everyone assumed that she...he...was still recovering, but he had a feeling...perhaps the stranger was a spirit. He wasn't quite sure what Torsem and Cornamus looked underneath their robes, whether they were androgynous now that they no longer needed any...sexual capabilities. She didn't look like the high spirits that Diffian described, so she wasn't Aubrey or Silvia. But the stranger said that "she" wasn't really a she, but Torsem seemed to refer to himself as male and not female. So who was he? Combined with the cryptic speech and the strange mind-reading, Toris's initial attraction was tinged by something uniquely disturbing. But after his ferver yesterday to help him, Toris was now stuck "entertaining" him so that everyone could finish his birthday preparations without Toris getting in the way, which the stranger didn't seem to mind.

The clothes that were brought to the stranger, men's clothing, fit him perfectly, and when Toris came in the room, more cautionary than yesterday, the stranger was standing near the window and didn't even turn around.

"I knew you'd come back."

"You seem to know a lot of things."

"One does not have to read your mind to know." He paused. "You don't trust me."

"Can I at least have your name?"

"After I discover something." Finally, he turned towards Toris. "Take me to the garden."

Toris wanted to say that he was being rude, but the manner in which the stranger talked still, in some way, allured him, as if he couldn't disobey a request, rude or not. So he took the stranger back out to the garden, and the man walked to the spot that Toris found him yesterday and got on his hands and knees, patting the ground and scanning the grassy area.

"Do you need help finding something?"

"No." After searching for several minutes with no success, the stranger stood and said, "Very well," but there was panic in his eyes.

"Would you...like me to show you around the gardens?"

"If it will do as your...family desires, then yes."

So they walked, and Toris didn't talk, thinking that the person could read his mind already. Could Torsem read minds? Did he see the images flooding his head during the cross-elemental dance? Or perhaps the high spirit was used to reading minds and seeing such thoughts didn't bother him anymore. Even if Torsem could read minds, he didn't flaunt it like this spirit did. Yes, the stranger had to be a spirit. No normal person would be this...odd.

"So, what do you do on this...birthday of yours?"

"We have a banquet, a ball, I get presents from my family and friends."

"Like offerings?"

"I suppose, though that's a strange way to put it. I'm not a god or anything."

"Are you happy?"

"On my birthday? Yes, I suppose I would be."

"I see."

Toris paused before saying, "You are welcome to attend if you feel well enough. I don't want to make you unwell again on my account."

"I won't feel well for quite some time, and something such as dancing won't affect me. But you are hesistant to not invite me"

"Stop reading my mind," he snapped and scowled at the stranger, who only stared at him with that calm expression of his.

"I didn't have to. You are so easy to interpret. But yes, reading other's minds does prove useful for clarification."

"How did you learn to do that?"

"Learn?"

"Who taught you?"

"I was born this way."

"Doesn't it bother you?"

The stranger paused. "No."

"Do the other spirits read minds? Does Torsem?"

"No, they don't read minds."

"So what type of spirit are you?"

He looked at Toris and then out at the garden again. "You assume I'm a spirit?"

"You're not a normal person, that I know."

"Neither are you."

That silenced Toris. He wanted to shake the spirit, demand that he tell Toris all he knew, but he knew he wouldn't get any answers that way.

After they returned inside, the stranger assured him that he would be fine in his room alone, and Toris, to clear his mind, went out riding. His chest felt uncomfortably full, pent up emotions welling up inside of him. Too many questions and not enough answers. He just hoped that the stranger would feel safe enough to tell him something soon. Even something as simple as a name would ease some discomfort, but the stranger wouldn't give him even that. He was so preoccupied that he didn't realize until early evening that he wasn't tired. It was a strange feeling, knowing that it was the new moon and he wasn't drowsy, and as he got ready for the ball, he was actually strangely energized. He smoothed down his hair and buttoned his blue and gold brocaded vest that his mother said made his blue eyes darker and prettier. He wondered what clothing was given to the stranger, and the more he thought of it, the more he wanted to know, so after he finished getting ready, he paid the stranger another visit.

"You can come in, Toris," he called before Toris even reached the door, and it didn't even bother Toris anymore that the stranger knew he was coming.

He stopped at the doorway again, but not in the same way that he did the first time. The stranger was fully clothed, but the clothing...the vest was an opalescent white trimmed in black and gold, and the shirt was made out of a fabric that looked finer than silk. Even the pants, which Toris thought were just black, even had a strange lustre to them in the right light. The stranger literally shimmered when he walked.

"Where did you get those clothes?"

"Get them?" He looked down at his body as if realizing he was clothed for the first time. "I'm not sure."

"It's just so..." Toris reached out and touched the billowy sleeve of the shirt. Yes, it definitely was finer than silk. "You're not supposed to outshine the guest of honor."

The stranger frowned. "I apologize."

"I was just jesting."

"No, you weren't. If you wish for me to change, then I will."

"No, it's fine, despite what you thought you think I meant." He frowned at the awkward wording. "You know what I meant."

"It was equally confusing in your mind."

"Toris?" Elia knocked on the door, and like her son, stopped at the doorway and stared at the stranger. "You look very fine today," she said to him.

"Thank you."

"Come, come, the guests are all waiting."

"I shall stay here until Toris has had time to shine," the stranger said and sat on his bed.

"We can have someone come fetch you when—"

"I'll know when to come down. No need."

Elia nodded, her expression a bit perturbed before ushering her son out the room. As they walked towards the front of the palace, Toris heard a strange noise in his head, like a screech far away before the screech turned into soft coughing.

*Eighteen must be a lucky age for your family, isn't it?*

"Did you say something, Mother?"

Elia shook her head. "No, I didn't. Are you so nervous you're hearing things, dear?"

"No. I just..." He looked around at the empty hallway. "I thought I heard someone say something..."

The crowd cheered once Toris appeared at the top of the grand staircase, flanked by his mother and father, and he smiled and waved before telling everyone how happy he was that they could come.

*It's been quite a long time. You don't remember me, do you?*

Toris stuck a finger in his ear for a moment and blinked as he descended the staircase to receive his wellwishes.

*You're not listening.*

"No," he muttered to himself. and looked around the room.

*You won't find me in the crowd, Toris. You were closer when you touched your ear.*

Toris forced a smile on his face as young women flirted with him as he passed by and gave him flowers.

*I'll leave you in peace, Toris. We'll talk later. It's nice to hear from you again.*

He physically relaxed, until the voice added, *Beware of Dionae. People are dying. There's trouble, and we may be the cause. It will want to kill you for that.*

Dionae? The only Dionae he knew was one of the Minor Gods of Merdrith, and he knew that the gods couldn't enter the present world—but that didn't mean they couldn't use the spirits to punish someone. Was that it? Was the stranger the spirit that was after him?"

The orchestra started playing one of his favorite songs, but he couldn't bring himself to smile.
* * *

Even though he wasn't interested in some of the young women at the ball, Toris's pride hurt once the stranger entered the ballroom and the young women doted on him. They marvelled at his clothing, his hair, his beauty that he mistakenly took as being feminine. The stranger was calm and patient as if he was used to the adoration. But the thought that the stranger was trying to kill him dampened not only his party but also his perception of the spirit. He knew that some of the spirits were vindictive—his aunt and uncle, in their journies, almost was killed by Aubrey. But why did the stranger want him dead? He didn't kill anyone! And why was he even trusting a disembodied voice anyway?

But Toris tried to forget it, tried to enjoy the dancing and food and drink, socializing with the nobility that he rarely saw because they lived on the far south of Tairoth and couldn't make the long trek north very often. He avoided the stranger, ignored him, but he could sense him staring at him, across the room, down the dining table, always watching him. It didn't help in his trying to forget that the stranger had a special interest in him, but Toris just didn't know why.

The festivities lasted most of the night, until the guests, sleepy and tipsy at best, went to their guest houses. Salva was completely drunk at that point, and Toris helped him to his bed before going to his own room. He startled when the stranger was already in the room, sitting at Toris's desk, a solitary candle the only light in the room.

"You heard him, didn't you?" he said.

"Who?"

"Toris."

He was already tired and hazy from fatique and drink, and he wasn't understanding the stranger clearly. "I'm Toris."

"No. You were named after Toris. A spirit."

That information sobered him a little. "It's just a name."

"No. Toris is inside of you. Part of you."

"Everybody has a spirit."

"But yours is different. It is normally evasive. Your father spoke of his trial with the Moon Children Disease."

"So?"

"The spirit that almost killed your father is the spirit that is now inside you."

No longer sleepy, Toris heavily sat on the bed, too stunned to say anything. A flute spirit? A flute spirit was inside of him. Not just inside of him, but his own spirit.

"So...I had the Moon Children Disease from birth?"

"It is not that simple. Your spirit cannot leave. Your spirit will not kill you, just as someone else's spirit cannot kill him."

"I..." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I just can't..."

"Rest, Toris. I will explain everything tomorrow. And, depending on the outcome...perhaps..." The stranger shook his head. "Rest, Toris."

The stranger touched his forehead, the first time that he delibrately touched Toris, and Toris began to feel drowsy again.

That night, he dreamed of darkness, deep darkness.
* * *