A Ghost with Manners

Mariana had almost forgotten about her little box. She would not have sold it in any case, though. Magical items were so hard to come by that to let one slip from her fingers would have been a tragedy.

With her crew happily eating their first meal of the day, she had some time to explore the hidden possibilities of the cube in her cabin.

She closed the door, locked it, and tried to keep the lights dim. She didn't know what had made her so paranoid today. Perhaps it had something to do with the enchantment that some witch of old times had placed upon the item. Perhaps it was just her shame - she would never be able to outmatch Daniel in a fight, not without the help of her twenty-six cannons, and she had to accept that sorry state of being.

Her candles were made of expensive southern wax. Her bookshelf was empty; there was no sense in dragging a library with her on a voyage that was both a manhunt and an escape. The cabin bathed in warm light, but as soon as she opened the box, the atmosphere changed.

There was something sinister in the air.

She examined the dice. Some of them were compatible with each other, some of them had lines that could feasibly overlap in a way that seemed like a bad idea when it came to witchcraft and its consequences.

Each of the tiny cubes was unique. One seemed to be older than the others, with more wear and tear.

The Good Wife rocked abruptly, throwing the dice onto the table.

"Mother of worms," Mariana cursed.

Hopefully this didn't mean anything. Hopefully the spell was ineffective when casted without intent.

She collected all the dice and put them back into the box.

She turned back towards the cabin door, hoping that no noisy sailors had heard her swear.

She saw a ghost.

It was easy to recognize the form of the handsome man as a ghost due to the translucence. People were…well, opaque, while this man was certainly not. Although nothing about him suggested any amount of malevolence, it was jarring to see those wide eyes staring at her behind a curtain of ghost curls.

He was nice to look at, terrifyingly so.

"One has not had your luck in centuries," the ghost whispered. He had a scarf covering his neck. This - in combination with his hoarse voice - suggested that he had died from a throat wound.

"How so? Sorry…who are you? And what did that spell do, exactly?"

"A cross, an upside down demonic triangle and the ancient sigil of the rose are enough to summon me," the sad-faced undead gentleman said, averting his gaze. "Although it rarely does me any favors. I sit and watch, being invisible almost all the time. It's simple, you throw them, they summon someone, if you're lucky enough. If you're unlucky, you get no one, or someTHING."

The emphasis was not lost on Mariana. She got curious. There was still this element of fear hanging in the air, but the initial terror was starting to dissolve.

"I see, so it's a set of parts of different sigils that can be combined to create a variety of shapes," Mariana said slowly, stretching out every syllable.

She didn't know why, but she felt like it was good to talk to ghosts as if talking to a smart person who was very old, with clarity and complexity.

"Yes," the handsome ghost sighed. "You should talk a bit faster. It's a common misconception that ghosts require patience. I didn't end up like this by being patient, you know."

Mariana wasn't sure whether the man assumed that she'd have questions about his identity. He probably had to answer a lot of questions whenever he became visible. She could imagine that getting a bit annoying.

"Am I wrong if I assume that it isn't a bright idea to play with those things?" she finally asked.

She noticed that she had been playing with her fingernails to the point of bleeding a little.

"Oh gods, please don't do it, not while you're actively bleeding, at least."

"I see. Blood sacrifice isn't something I want to do."

They shared a chuckle that was otherworldly on one end.

"Well, it isn't good unless you're committed," the man said. "I'm Dars, by the way. Just call me that. My actual name comes from a long line of…well, a long line of long names and longer stories, you mustn't bother yourself with that. Instead, you can just…forget that I was here, let me go and try not to put a blood curse on anyone. Right?"

"Right," Mariana said, but Dars had already implanted an idea within her head without meaning to.

If there was a way to curse Daniel with a trick with dice and a drop of her blood, she was going to do it immediately. What a great idea!

"So, um, how do I make sure that you are free to go and do your ghost business?" she asked.

Dars narrowed his eyes.

"You are not going to do anything stupid while I am gone?" he asked.

"No," she said. It wasn't a good idea to lie to a ghost, but it could be a great idea if she was committed to this cause of revenge.

"Great. So, you can just light one more candle."

"Just a candle?"

"I am a weak ghost, honey. Besides, you have so many candles already that you look like an arsonist in the making."

Mariana nodded. "You seem like a nice person."

"Thank you, that's exactly what the murderer said before he got mad at me."

Thoroughly puzzled, Mariana lit another candle. She was now free to do whatever she pleased with her magical box, although the feeling that she was being watched by dozens of interdimensional, invisible entities did not go away as easily as Dars' form that dissolved into nothing in a matter of seconds.

A strange scent of lavender lingered around, but it was not a good time to dwell in her thoughts and dreams.

It was the right moment for an old-fashioned rousing speech.