Chapter Text
Quincy has been in the library for days. Not his usual practice, everyone can tell. As Eiden anxiously wanders outside the door, still no signs from within have ever signaled the thing Quincy is doing, and hiding from Eiden.
Who the heck ever said that ghost could just walk through walls? Look, obviously he can't break in physically! "Why a ghost is restricted by a damn concrete wall and a wooden door…that doesn't even make sense! Hey I'm already very well-dead…" Eiden murmurs to himself, which then becomes a yell when he discovers the sun is setting. Again. Another day Quincy isolates himself.
There's no way that Quincy doesn't hear him complaining. After all, he's the only one (aside from Topper) who can see and talk to him after he died. They suspect it's his ashes and their resonated essence that do the trick. For Quincy carrying his urn wherever he goes, Eiden follows.
Well he can float and be invisible, like how the myth goes and what the folklore tells. But not when Quincy decided to shut him out － Eiden can only stay in the area that is close to his ashes. If Quincy is the old stubborn himself, and he doesn't read too much into it, Eiden bets anything he is doing in the library is something either dangerous and risky, or he'd object. Maybe both, the worst scenario.
Can't blame him for being on tenterhooks, Quincy is barely on the fringe of sanity after he's dead. Quieter than ever. Though this is a fact Eiden can't change.
EIDEN IS DEAD.
Eiden didn't want to recall that night.
In the hermit's hut alone Quincy was holding the urn of his little devil in his arms, whispering at midnight. Vaguely, Quincy puffed out words Eiden couldn't listen. Like he was struggling to breathe. Eiden walked closer from behind, allowing the wind to blow the lament into his ears.
Eiden.
It was his name.
A sudden urge took over. Too overwhelming. He had to break into the solitude. Eiden walked and then stood in front of Quincy, kneeled down and held his hands. Then he saw how the tip of his fingers penetrated right through that dim stone on the hunter's hand.
He flinched.
Right, he couldn't even touch him. Took a deep breath he threatened himself to move again, though he didn't need to breathe anymore. Might be cruel Eiden wouldn't have known, he just cried under his breath, "Let go, Quincy."
Flabbergasted, Quincy blinked blankly with teary eyes. Hollowed. His little devil was DEAD, the one in front of him was nothing but his lunatic illusion.
Quincy's…crying? The strong, powerful and reliable Quincy? You could trust the world on him. Yet he looked so vulnerable. Shattered. Empty.
Upon seeing him with tears shedded, Eiden wept even harder. How could he? How could he do this to him? How dare he leave him alone again? He was too broken to see. His throat was hurt and dried. Eiden mouthed in absolute silence, but Quincy was able to read his trembling lips. A delusion too beautiful to let go yet too difficult to grasp.
"Let me go, Quincy."
"Eiden…don't." It had always been his habit to comfort his little devil. Or he might just be refusing. Don't do this to me. How couldn't he. Reached out to wipe Eiden's tears, it was the grand sorcerer's turn to be shocked, "Wh-wait Quincy you can see me?"
That night of reunion seems to be bringing a part of Quincy's lucidity back. Like Sirius in the darkest swirling sky. Though when night falls and dawn yet to break, amid the forest breeze where blackbird sings and nightingale cries, the hermit is often stuck in a frenzied panic. Maybe an innocent nightmare or a realistic fantasy, Quincy breaks into cold sweats and is awaken from sleep once or twice a night, wondering if everything in front of his eyes are no more than a somnambulist's mirage. Stretching out his arms to locate Eiden, even he's just at his side, the impossibility to touch a ghost only leads to a thristy longing for solace.
Two weeks had passed after the reunion, Quincy suddenly went for Aster's permission to use the library. The clingy hunter thereafter then just locked himself in, totally out of the blue.
There's no fun being a ghost. Aside from being incapable to walk through walls, he can't move or touch things directly, or he will just pick the lock or break the windows with a stone. The grand sorcerer has been putting up with this for too long that he decides to scream even louder to disturb the man inside, not that the others will hear him anyway. On cue, the door is thrown open. If a ghost could fall, Eiden probably will just bump into the hunter's chest.
"Too noisy, little devil."
*Squeak*! Topper hops and aims to land on Eiden's shoulder, forgetting the latter is no longer capable to hold him like he used to. Luckily Quincy is quick enough to grab the little guy, stroking him on his tail to comfort him from the deadfall.
"Are you OK, Topper? Sorry, I am dying to hug you too but I really can't now…how I miss the texture of your fur, soft and fluffy …oh wait I am not dying, I'm dead already! Quincy did you hear that? What a pun I just made! Oh right it's not the time to talk about that － you leave me alone for three whole days! And you are definitely hiding secrets from me! What are you doing in the library? Searching for ancient ritual and offer sacrifices to bring me back to life huh?"
*Squeak squeak squeak*! Topper chimes in, speaking in a sequence of high-pitched shrills. His tail is low and stiff. Back and forth he peeks between Quincy and Eiden, looked concerned.
"Holy shit you really are? I was just joking! Don't you dare to put yourself in jeopardy!"
How on earth everytime in a situation like this, the little devil can perfectly comprehend Topper's language…Quincy tries to give a pat on Eiden's head (somewhere about that position in the middle of air, at least), answering in ambiguity, "No sacrifices. Just going to visit a place. It won't hurt."
"Huh I doubt. Topper obviously doesn't approve!"
*Squeak*!
"I'm going alone anyway."
This man can be really obstinate. Eiden and Topper have tried everything. They beg and intimidate, convince and induce. No, both carrot and stick don't work.
He very much wants to believe Quincy's words, but he can assure everyone that if there's really no danger involved, the hermit wouldn't have locked him out the library. Cornered and desperate, Eiden concedes, "Alright, I yield! Just let me go with you!"
Hesitated, Quincy finally nods after a decade. According to the ancient scroll, he needs to bring along Eiden's ashes anyway.
"So, where are we heading? This old ritual place."
"We are going to the Temple of Stars."
Quincy has never imagined that he would have the chance to set off on a journey with his little devil again.
Like the good old days.
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Eiden's deadly discovery of the day: a ghost can cry.