Brisk ocean winds followed Vesper toward the heart of the seaside city. They had come after weeks of prayers to Euritus to rid Tango Bay of the swarming insects. Yesterday, the buzzing clouds had been dense enough to obscure one's vision, but now Vesper's grey, wide sleeves, and pants whipped around him and he relished the sensation. He kept a hand on his flat, orange hat to not let the wind steal it and looked beyond the red buildings and yellow towers of brick at something beyond the physical: Magic.

The wind couldn't touch it as it swirled on its own accord, sparkling like light on waves where it was the most concentrated. In one alley he passed, the magic was dense enough to form a sprite. It had taken the appearance of things around it; the orange brick, the wooden window frame, and even rotten mulberries were reflected in it. Like Vesper, it seemed to study how the passage of wizards and witches stirred the magic as if it was a fog they walked through. Besides them, there was something more distant influencing the magic, something Vesper had no name for. If only sprites could talk... Maybe one day he'd figure it out in the library. Today, however, he'd gotten his hands on a newly published study of magic usage beyond Saltaire's horizon. He'd have to return tomorrow to finish it since he wasn't allowed to leave with books or scrolls without a deposit, something he'd never afford. He'd broken many laws in Tango Bay, but the library was sacred. He'd never risk being banned from it. How else would he make sense of the sight he possessed?

Vesper turned onto a busy street and had to lower his pace as a chatting group of young students from Gylldon's Academy of Magic blocked his path. They wore identical black robes embroidered with neat golden herons and golden tattoos sparkled on their fingers. They had it so easy. All they had to do was listen and replicate, and then they'd be free to do whatever they wanted with their abilities. Were they grateful for this? No, of course not. They'd never had to listen to "skilled" witches and wizards stumble through instructions they had no first-hand experience with. And once they seemed to actually have something to teach, the students had never had to question their professors' ulterior motives for teaching them.

Vesper picked up speed and made a path for himself by storming through the group. At least that much he could do for himself. By the time he reached the central plaza, he'd bought a parcel of sea salt fudge and his temper had cooled.

The oval plaza was as flat as the rest of Saltaire and surrounded by the city's iconic red, orange and yellow buildings. On one end stood the temple of Calux and Euritus, open north to south to let the wind rush through and made of thick glass to give light equal access. It was a lovely place to read on days when the wind chimes mingled, not like today when they were in a riot to celebrate the wind.

Vesper circled the clusters of people who had gathered by the plaza's stalls, towards a grand fountain with a statue of the adventurer Ellen Paralian. Balancing on the helm she held, amongst spouts of water, stood Laraine. The short teen had an air of determination around her, but also a pool of magic at her disposal. She had tied cerulean ribbons on her ankles to bring in the hems of her thatched pants and a teal vest left her dark arms bare.

With a banjo in hand, Marcell jumped up on the base of the fountain and struck a chord. Chatter fizzled out and the crowd turned towards the young man with the wide, green and yellow hat tipped to conceal his face. He wore a white, long-sleeved tunic under a dark green vest that reached his knees. Around his waist he'd tied a broad, yellow ribbon that stole attention from the tattered, black pants and dusty shoes.

Music built the tension and Laraine reached her hands high, gathering magic into steps for her to dance high above the fountain. The crowd clapped but stopped abruptly when she dove toward them. Vesper smiled to himself as people stumbled backward, unaware of the trampoline of magic Laraine had already set up over their heads. She waved at him, did a somersault, and bounced back up, this time landing in a handstand on Ellen's head. Vesper joined in on the applause and followed Marcell with his gaze as he took off his hat, revealing a broad smile and a long, black braid at his back. Coins, both copper and silver were tossed inside the hat. The nice weather seemed to have lifted everyone's spirits.

A glimmer at the corner of Vesper's eye stole his attention.

Spirits?

Obscured by the statue, the water, and the crowd, walked a group of glimmering figures. He broke apart from the crowd to get a better look. They weren't spirits, not quite. They were ghosts, following a priest of Obcamori, a deity of death and memory. The priest's dark grey robes were trimmed with swirling orange and pink embroidery. The hood obscured her face and she walked with purpose through the crowd with her hands clasped inside her wide sleeves. People lowered their voices and parted in respect for the dead they could only assume were there. The five ghosts followed on her heels, rigid in their motions.

Vesper hurried closer. The ghosts were not sombre or pensive as most dead he'd seen. Their eyes sparked with hate as they spat silent curses at the back of the priest. One of them, a boy in his late teens, turned towards him and a flash of chock made Vesper walk straight into someone. He apologised and did a double take. It was Darius, Marcell's brother. His translucent features were clearer than the rest and there was no mistaking. How could he possibly still be here?

Darius pushed through the other ghosts to get closer to Vesper and signed one word over and over. "Help!"

Vesper looked back at the fountain, then to the ghosts, and set off in a sprint towards Marcell. He sang about long-lost love as Laraine showed off her acrobatics above the heads of the gathered crowd. Vesper stopped in front of him and signed, "There's an emergency!"

Marcel nodded and cut the song short with a chord on the banjo. He reached a hand in his pocket and threw up a fistful of sparkling confetti, enchanted to shoot into the air like fireworks. The audience clapped hesitantly. Laraine landed next to them and tucked back a brown braid that had loosened from her swirled bun and signed, "Is it the guards again?"

Vesper swallowed, unsure of how Marcell would take this. "No. I saw Darius. I don't know how, but someone has him. Him and other ghosts. He asked for help-"

"Where?" Marcell interrupted. The word was a shaky whisper that fought against his rising fear.

"This way!"

Vesper led them to the other side of the fountain and then along a path of magic swirling from disruption. They hurried south and soon had sight on the priest of Obcamori. Vesper pointed her out before she and the ghosts descended a flight of stairs towards the harbour.

"Is Darius still with her?" Marcell used the moment of pause to fold and tuck away his hat.

Vesper nodded. "It's like they're all tied to her."

"Okay," Marcell signed, his face rigid. "We'll split up. Vesper, stay close to them and try to see how she's controlling them. Laraine, we'll stay close but out of sight. I hope you're not too tired from the performance."

She cracked her knuckles. "Never."

Vesper tucked his hat inside his robes, revealing spiky, copper blonde hair, and hurried down the stairs. The priest reached the base and looked over her shoulder. Vesper immediately slowed his pace and shielded his eyes from the sun as if studying the grand ships on the sea. There was a clump of magic on her chest, but the distance and the magic itself made it impossible for him to see what it was. When she eventually continued, he kept a distance.

In the corner of Vesper's vision, he noticed Marcell and Laraine on a facade. Their clothes were enchanted to match the brown brick, but to Vesper that only made them easier to spot. They descended with ease towards an alley that would cut off the priest's path. But she had other plans. Instead of continuing forward, she turned a corner and entered a warehouse.

Vesper hurried closer and peeked through a window. The glass was caked with dirt and mostly blocked by crates, but the visibility was enough for Vesper to see the ghosts walk towards someone wearing something enchanted that covered their torso.

Laraine signed from across the street. "Can you see anything?"

"The priest isn't alone." Vesper looked up at a small window centred on the tall facade. "If you get in from the other side we can corner and get a jump on them. Grab whatever's by the priest's chest."

Marcell and Laraine nodded in unison and left.

Vesper gave them a moment before feeling the door handle. Locked, of course, but not for long. Darius had taught him many things. The door whined when he nudged it.

Fuck it. Change of plans! He swung the door wide and waltzed inside like he owned the place. That he had learned from another old friend.

"Good evening!"

Three concentrated pools of magic made it difficult for Vesper to read the expressions of the two persons. The first was the group of ghosts, now even more furious. The second was the enchanted armour of the broad, red-haired man, polished but shipped. He tucked away a pouch of coins into a satchel. The third and smallest was hidden in the fist of the priest, a thin chain hanging out of it. She had lowered her hood to reveal a pale face framed by waves of dark blue hair.

"You have no business here." Her voice was calculated and clear as if she went through great effort to hide an accent. "Leave."

Vesper smiled and kept walking. "Oh, sorry for interrupting! I'll just get a box from over there." He pointed to the other side of the room. "Pretend I'm not here."

The man asked something he couldn't understand and the priest shrugged.

He got close enough to reach for the chain and saw how strings of magic bound the ghosts to its pendant. The enchantment was similar to those Marcell and Laraine made in the sense that it wasn't folded like wizards' enchantments or woven like witches'. It was cut and glued into a mosaic, but way more intricate than anything his friends could make. He passed them and glanced at the ceiling. Gathered magic formed stars that flickered in and out of existence as his friends took position over him in the shadows. He stepped over a trail of ants and sauntered over to a set of boxes.

A sly smile curled Vesper's lips and he raised his voice. "Lovely weather today, but I guess the winds can't protect us from the insects forever. Better enjoy some sweets while we can, huh?" He opened his parcel of sea salt fudge and turned toward the strangers. The armoured man had gathered a cloud of magic around him that glittered with possibility and the priest looked ready for murder with a pair of blades of gathered magic. Vesper moved behind a heavy-looking crate, put down the candy on it, and pretended to read a label. He could never tell the difference between magic everyone could see and that which was only visible to him, so better safe than sorry and feign ignorance.

Strings of magic fell on the candy and crumbled it to dust. Another stream of magic picked it up and swept it over the floor toward the man. An army of bronze acid ants was quick to follow.

Vesper cleared his dry throat. "How can anyone find anything in this mess?" He moved a crate and scratched his head.

The man said something and although Vesper couldn't understand the words, he got the meaning. Time for murder.

Vesper threw himself behind the crates as a sparkling tendril shot toward him. It slammed into the boxes behind him, cracking the wood. It turned like a snake towards him and then to the side. Then it shook and something slammed into the crate he hid behind as the man began to shout what could only be curses. Vesper peaked up to see the man jumping from leg to leg, trying to brush off the acid ants. But they were determined to get the fudge and had scuttled inside both armour and clothes to get it.

Part of the magical tendrils dispersed as the man feverishly tore off his armour, causing brief but violent bursts of air to rush the room. Those who remained were stretched into whips that lashed at every inch of both floor and ceiling. Vesper couldn't avoid them all and was hit both across the chest and leg. The hits tore through his clothes and left shallow but long and stinging cuts.

Despite the chaos, the priest kept a steady grip on the chain as she gathered a shield and backed towards the door. The ghosts had no choice but to follow. From the ceiling, curled up within orbs of dense magic, dropped Marcell and Laraine. Marcell hit the priest square in the chest, knocking her over like a bowling pin. Laraine might be lighter, but she had more precision and hit the man in the head with a crack, knocking him unconscious if not straight into Obcamori's embrace.

Before Laraine got to her feet, Vesper had lunged for the chain and pried it out of the priest's fist. The tethers on the ghosts loosed, but they still couldn't get far. He studied the enchanted pendant. It was a setting sun of gold, the symbol of Obcamori. What a disgrace. The enchantment was intricate and without any obvious weak points. Destroying it would take time, but anything assembled could be taken apart.

"If we get out of here, so will you," Vesper told the ghosts, his chest stinging with each heavy breath.

They met him with suspicion, but Darius piped in and so they nodded.

Vesper steadied his breath. "Then-"

"You have the eyes of Notio..." the priest whispered. She was weighed down by a thick brick of magic patched together by Laraine and Marcell, but she didn't let that silence her. "I know someone who can teach you. If you stop meddling in matters which don't concern you, I can offer you opportunities." As she talked, she slipped into the accent of Arquello, an island nation across the sea.

"I don't know who that is and I don't care." Was he trying to convince her or himself? Vesper changed direction. "How could you possibly justify selling people?"

"Oh please, they're not people." The priest rolled her eyes. "Their memories have or will fade soon enough, leaving only their magical essence. It has more potential than you can imagine. You have more-"

"That's enough!" Marcell declared and dragged a dusty carpet over the priest's head and shoulders. He ignored the muffled curses that followed as he tied her arms and legs with a pair of curtains. "Vesper, you know we'll support you any way we can but..."

Laraine chimed in, "We're not trusting these people."

"Of course not!" Vesper burst out. "Why would you think I'd listen to her?"

"You did though," Marcell insisted. "You had that face you have when you read about foreign magic. Let's leave while we can."

Vesper wanted to defend himself. He could keep a band on his curiosity. Just because he wanted to learn something from someone didn't mean he'd go along with whatever they told him to do. He glanced at the man sprawled on the floor. He'd begun to stir. Marcell and Laraine were at least right about one thing: Time to leave.

"Fine." Vesper pocketed the necklace and headed for the door with the ghosts in tow.

Within arm's reach of the door, the magic in the room grew dense and froze in place. So also did Vesper, his friends, and the ghosts. Every breath was a fight against the pressure on his body.

Heavy footsteps hit the stone floor.

Vesper looked around as best he could without moving his head. The magic which had first appeared solid around them was actually shifting ever so slightly. Even this man was apparently no match for the distant, unnamed influence of magic. He tried desperately to focus on it instead of the slow steps. Weaker spots in the magic emerged and closed up before him. When one such gap passed over his head, he pushed through the force and turned. Laraine and Marcell were only steps away, the ghosts closer, but even them motionless. Laraine fought for control over the magic around her, but it wouldn't budge.

"That's the best you got?" Vesper mocked. When a weak spot passed over his leg, he pried it into a more comfortable position.

With most of his armour gone and one hand grasping his head, the man would have looked less threatening if it weren't for the burning rage that twisted his face. He balled his free hand into a fist, centring the magic around Vesper. It covered his vision and petrified his muscles. Although he gasped for breath, air refused to enter his lungs.

The man muttered as he passed Marcell and Laraine but slowed only when he reached the ghosts. Although they weren't nearly as solid as a wall, the man had to push through them as if walking underwater. He looked down at Vesper and said something that sounded like an insult. Vesper squinted to get a better look at him through the dense magic, but still only the fiery red hair stood out to him. He let go of his head and instead used it to pat down on Vesper's pockets.

"Aaha!" the man exclaimed and held up the pendant.

Vesper stared daggers at him as a new light loomed at the edges of his vision. White and soft, fluffy almost. With increasing speed, it replaced the sight of concentrated magic. Vesper's insides burned with fire only air could quench. If he died, would he become a ghost like Darius? Was his rare sight similar enough to witches' and wizards' abilities for it to preserve his essence?

His sight was engulfed in fog, but the magic in the air would not let him collapse.

Everything was white and still.

There was a grunt, a thud, and finally he fell. Air rushed into his lungs and he flexed his arms and legs just to make sure he could. The burning sensation remained but he didn't mind as long as he could keep breathing. Hands grabbed his torso and hoisted him to his feet. Fog and magic dispersed to show Marcell's worried face.

"I need you to be okay right now. You can fall over when we get home but now we really have to move."

Vesper nodded and looked over his shoulder. The man was sprawled on the floor with Laraine plucking the necklace from his fist. The priest had gathered magic into a pair of scissors and tried to cut herself free. They had but moments.

Together they bolted from the warehouse with the ghosts at their heels. Up the stairs, towards the temple of Euritus and Callux, then into one alley after the other. The further from the city centre they got, the fewer people they passed. To be beyond certain that any possible tail had been lost, they shunned the front door for the rusty ladder that led directly to their attic apartment.

The main room was barely enough for five people to live in and was filled with a mismatch of well-used furniture. The kitchen and dining table took up most of the space and a couple of painted screens were placed by their beds to create the illusion of privacy. Vesper collapsed on the sofa. With this many unexpected visitors, he couldn't help but feel exposed. At least the apartment wasn't as messy as it could've been. The ghosts dispersed as far as the tether would allow them and poked around. Most still looked displeased, some at the mess they had found themselves in and some at their general prospects. An older gentleman took it upon himself to reorganise the meagre bookshelf and fill it with anything he could reach.

Darius went to the corner where he had once slept and studied the scratched drawer that had replaced his bed. Marcell stood nearby, acting years younger as he sheepishly looked around the room.

Laraine tapped Vesper on the shoulder and handed him the necklace. "Can you hold on to this? It gives me the creeps..."

"Sure." He pocketed it. He couldn't feel the magic any more than he could shape it. For once that was a perk. "Hopefully we can dispel it. If I'm the eyes and you and Marcell are the hands, I'm sure we can figure it out." Could they though? A woman with long curls stirred up dust with a broom and Vesper got the sense that his sanity might depend on it.

There was a lot to be done besides dispelling the enchantment. They had to know how and why the woman from Arqello captured ghosts, talk to the real priests of Obcamori, and find out who or what Notio is. Or maybe the last thing on that list was something just for him... The Eyes of Notio. He had a name for what he had. For who he was.

Vesper interrupted his thoughts and redirected his excitement. Before anything else, he'd talk to Darius as an old friend and Marcell's big brother.