"What happened?" Eldric asked, wary and worried when she entered the graveyard again, her cheeks flush and her eyes puffed. "Who made you cry?"
"I just... I'll stay here for the night, okay?" She said, sitting down on his grave.
He clenched his jaw, "What did she do?"
Sigh, "It wasn't just her, you dear descendant was part of it, they are..." she struggled with the words, "best friends."
"What?" He barked in shock. "But you said he was a horrible person."
"He is," she used her backpack as a pillow and laid down on his marble grave, recoiling and hugging her legs, "to me. She never cared, I always embarrassed her, Ric, always, since we were kids, and even more after I began to communicate with you, after Vernon passed away. I was a gloomy child even before that, always grooving, always weird to them, in school they labelled me a freak, and she was with them, so was my family, and the bullies. Draven was a bully, always a bully, he tormented me and he still does."
"I've known him for about as long as I've known you, we moved schools when Vernon passed, from the small one in the neighborhood to the private one close here, his family owns it. His family owns almost everything. I mean... your family. Fuck, this is so weird, to think you're his... ancestor in a way, it's the worse, because I hate him, I want him dead, I've made that clear countless times. I wanted you alive, I wanted you here," she cried, "so why is he still alive and you still dead? It's not fair."
"Mor," he groaned, in pain to see her like this, he's always felt pain when he saw her in pain, even if he doesn't know how that could be possible when he's dead. Sitting next to her, he swallowed, hating how he isn't tangible, how he can't touch her, how he can't hold her, "I'm here."
"I only have you, Ric," she cried, shaking. "Ophelia hates me, she probably would rather have me dead than anything. I... I can only count on you."
"You have me, Mor," he groaned, craving to be able to pass his fingers through her hair. "I'm here. I'll always be here for you. I'm sorry for not living long enough to be alive in the same age as you, Mor. If I could change that, I would, but I can't. I'm not even a complete soul, but even then, I'm here for you, all that's left of me is here for you."
Hiccuping softly, she tried to stop crying, looking at him, "What... do you mean... you're not a complete... soul?"
"I told you before, Mor, this me that you see is the part of my soul that is tied to the graveyard, imprisoned in here, I'm incomplete, I'm not all of myself like the other spirits around the graveyard. I'm chained up here through an ancient magic, more than half of my soul has probably vanished. Maybe that's why I can communicate so well with you, because I'm different."
Her tears ceased and she forced herself to sit up, "You never told me you were not complete, Ric," she gasped, the engines in her mind overworking. "Is there... is there any chance that what's left of your soul... reincarnated?"
Eldric's eyes darkened, "I don't think that's possible, Mor. How could I be partially alive when part of me is dead and spiritually chained up to this graveyard? To function well as a living being, the soul needs to be complete, or it'll live in eternal torment, just like it happens when you have your soul tragically wounded."
Her eyes widened, "If... if part of you is alive and reincarnated, suffering or not, you think you could take over the body? Join the fractured soul and be... alive?"
"I don't... I don't want to think about that."
"What? Why not?" She gasped.
"Hope is a dangerous thing, Mor, it would be better if you didn't give me any. I'm afraid of how broken I might get if it allow myself to hope for something like that, only to be let down. And I know that in theory that would sound amazing, but I'm the minority of my soul, if I did reincarnate, my new consciousness is stronger than I am. In the worst case scenario in which that was the case, my current consciousness is tormented, incomplete, the body is different because we never reincarnate identical to our initial nature, and everything would be different."
"But there is a chance, no? I mean, in the possibility of that having happened, it's still your body, no? Maybe the fragment of your soul that makes the you that I know will get attached back, the memories you have as a spirit here with me will fuse with what your new consciousness has, and you will be alive again. Fully," she exclaimed.
"Morringan, this is a dangerous gable. That could not even have happened."
"Is there... is there a way to know if it did?" She asked, anxiety creeping in with the possibility of that having happened.
"A soul witch would be able to tell," he passed a hand over his hair. "However, she would need to either touch me or touch something alive that's tangibly connected to me. That would be you, but you can't make me corporeal."
She blinked, eyes narrowed as she began thinking of any possibility. When something came into her mind, she snapped her fingers, "Is there any kind of magic that interacts directly with the soul, aside the power of soul witches? I mean, is there any kind of magic that you actually feel as a spirit? Not to spirits in general, but to you."
"What are you thinking, Mor?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Is there any, Ric?" She asked instead.
"Look, in theory, it would be the magic that I had while I was alive," sigh. "But that will only be found in my bloodline, Mor."
She didn't need more words, "You had shadow magic?" Her voice was nearly a whisper, because he had never told her which abilities he had while alive.
"Yes. Orion had light magic, he countered me on it, then killed me. That's how I died, it's what was missing from what I told you then, I feel shame about it, but there's nothing I can do now."