The odd temple room fades into the background and the sounds of talking coming from it fall away faster than would occur naturally. Hopefully Morgan will be safe by himself. He is now alone with a vampire and a corpse with an attitude, afterall. If the Kadie comes out intact (and fully clothed), then it will likely be time for a celebration. Kadin leads the two through a series of twisty corridors that all look alike, so it's a good thing it seems that he knows where they are going. Finally, the group reaches a large door. The specter walks up to and pushes against it. With a groan, the door gives way (how is anyone's guess since a spirit has no physical presence), and he steps out onto what looks like a balcony. He waves for the two to follow him out.

Glad to be away from the zombie-spell (and happy that her body is safe from him – for now), Olivia steps out onto the balcony with Kadin and takes a look around.

For his part, Qing's usual detachment has given way slightly, the mage looking this way and that to study the temple with a professional interest. As he goes, he re-prepares his spells of spiritual renewal. He quiets when the trio make their way out onto the balcony.

If the temple seemed a bit odd … this room is even stranger. Stretching out before the group is what almost seems like an endless tower of walkways and stairs. Except the stairs go off in random directions. Some lead to doors, others lead to empty walls. Some twist and bend in a manner that is certainly not natural; starting out as a normal stair, then twisting and bending until someone on it would be walking sideways for a bit, then upside down for another. A myriad of clocks and timepieces are scattered all along the walls as well. Some tick away … but each tick does not seem to be the same amount of time. Some run backwards. Some run backwards, then forwards, then just vibrate in place. "This is Valicross' prison, such as it is," Kadin explains as he waves out into the room. "Most are empty now, thankfully. The lower floors are his his earlier victims, the upper floors are his later ones. There are some in both areas still. Which do you wish to see first?"

"I would imagine the earlier ones have suffered the most, and will need the most work," murmurs Qing. "Let us begin there. Prepare yourself, Weaver. It may be that a familiar face can do more than the might of my craft."

Olivia swallows hard as her eyes skim across the crazy loopings of stairways and landings. Looking to Qing as he speaks, she says, "Very well. I just hope I don't fall off something before we even get to them! Because… uh… I dunno if there's a bottom to this place… "

"In many ways, this place represents his mind, I believe," Kadin says quietly as he heads towards a side stairwell going down. He steps off onto it and walks downward, following the twists and bends of the stairs without problem, at points, he seems to be walking sideways relative to the other two. "Come."

Well, here goes… something, the Skeek thinks to herself. She takes a deep breath and steps onto the stairway, following Kadin.

Qing follows along, beckoning to Olivia as he goes. "Kadin will guide us true, I am certain." The Naga still seems alert anyway, flicking his tongue as if trying to smell out the strange workings of this place.

The sensation is rather peculiar, as the two traverse the stairs, it feels as if the room rotates around them, not that they are rotating around as they walk and slide. To Qing, the magic of the the room is … peculiar. It's as if the caster created some sort of magical 'feedback loop' where the spell bends back on itself, so that it acts in a rather self-sustaining manner. Coupling that with the high magical contamination of Sylvania and this device could likely last indefinitely. The walk seems to take hours and seconds at the same time, but they do reach a door. It's old and covered in dust. On the nameplate is inscribed a name, 'Schadel'.

Spying the word written there, Olivia goes right past Qing and Kadin to touch the nameplate on the door. "I remember this name," she says, her voice sad. "Natasha told me about it. It's a place, not a person. Schadel is the name of the town Valicross used as a base before he first encountered her. He… he killed everyone there and made their corpses into his slaves."

The mage nods grimly. "Now that you mention it, I believe Valicross' shade said something to that effect when we faced him. Who is kept here, Kadin? The citizens he betrayed?"

"There are no zombies past this door. Only two of the spirits he captured from Schadel still exist and remain suspended in time, in their town before it was destroyed," Kadin explains as he reaches out and places his hand on the doorknob. "Why he never used them to power his rituals, I do not know. He simply keeps them here. Do you wish to enter?"

"Yes," hisses Qing. "If nothing else, we may gain insight."

Olivia nods mutely, trying to brace herself for anything.

"As you wish," Kadin says, tone soft. The doorknob is turned and the door creaks open slowly. Light spills out, engulfing those gathered before the door. For a moment, everything is white. Vision returns soon enough, thankfully, and the small group find themselves standing in the middle of a town square, in front of a door seeming to float a few inches above the ground. The first thing that stands out is … all the colors are faded, everything is almost just shades of gray, as if as all life drained away, as did all the color. 'People' mill about, doing typical 'daily' things, visiting stores, talking to one another. But it is all a reflection of things that once were. It's most obvious to Mage Qing; he can sense these are just constructs, replicas of what was and the same goes for the buildings, the trees, everything. None of them had an original source from the real world. All in all, the town itself could be described as idyllic … hard to imagine that this place was destroyed.

Qing cocks his head, himself a monochrome figure amongst the crafted echoes, but for his ruby eyes. "Could it be that Valicross had some affection for this place, in some part of his broken mind? Or is it a cruelly ironic prank he plays on those remaining here?"

Olivia looks all around for a few minutes, then kneels down and reaches out to touch a few blades of errant grass growing in between the cobblestones that line the walkway she is standing on, just to see what will happen.

It feels like grass, even if it is almost gray. The air is light and a soft wind blows. The scent of flowers float on the breeze.

The mage folds his arms and glides along, ignoring citizen and building alike for now. "Where are the spirits held, Kadin?"

"Somewhere in here. I have not ventured far. I … did not want to know," Kadin answers and looks towards the ground.

Olivia hmms softly to herself, then gets to her feet. The way all the colors are faded out here, I almost thought my hand might go through the grass, she thinks. This is one strong memory-spell… if that's what all this truly is.

Thanks to Olivia's keen sense of color, she notices something up ahead. There's a sign flapping lightly in the breeze. The colors on it are less faded than the surroundings. In fact, the paint on the building is less faded as well. The more the Skeek looks at it, the more real the building seems to become.

Olivia taps Qing lightly on one of his arms, then points to the building with the slightly more colorful paint on its outsides. "Perhaps we should try in there?" she asks. "It seems… a little more alive than the rest of this place, don't you think?"

Qing's head twists about on his long neck to look at the building the Skeek indicates. "Yes… yes, I think you may be right." His body swivels under his head to begin slithering toward the vague splash of faded color.

The townsfolk wave and smile to the odd group as they pass through the town. When they reach the door, Kadin reaches out and raps lightly on its surface. "Just a moment," comes a feminine voice from the inside. The door opens a moment later and a middle-aged Skreek peers out at them. "Oh, visitors. We don't get many visitors in town anymore. If you're here to see Doctor Demetri, he's not here. He left two seasons ago to further his education," she apologizes. To Qing's expert eye, this one is not a construct; she had origins in the real world.

The snake leans a little towards Olivia, one of his spare arms touching her back lightly, the mage nodding once slightly. Aloud, he hisses, "Ah. We are only aware of him in name, though I had a professional interest in meeting him. I am a stranger here otherwise. Do you happen to know to which academy he went?"

Olivia blinks at the greeting for a moment, deciding on what would be best to say in this situation. When Qing speaks and touches her on the back, her mouth makes a slight 'oh' of understanding before her expression clears. She makes a note of this spirit to herself, for possible use later, and studies her intently.

The Skreek shifts a bit uncomfortably under Olivia's stare. "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't. He was going to Justininople to arrange his trip and said he would send mail when he reached his destination. We've not heard from him since. I fear the bandits may have gotten him; they have been so much worse lately. I am sorry you came all this way for nothing. Mister… ? And would you like to at least come in for some tea?" she asks and smiles to the pallid serpent.

"Mage Qing, Zhu Ye, of the Collegia Esoterica Nagai," murmurs the reptile, inclining his neck slightly and putting the hand bearing his guild ring on his chest. "Your offer of hospitality is a kind one, we accept. Perhaps we can hear some things of him, and your town."

Olivia finally finds her own voice and curtsies to the Skreek. "And I am Olivia Weaver. I am… assisting Mage Qing in his travels. Thank you very much for the offer!" She also smiles at the other woman, hoping that this will ease some of her nervousness.

The Skreek opens the door the rest of the way so the group can enter. "Lyanka, pleasure to meet you both," the Skreek says with a smile and waves the group inside. There's a table near a fireplace in which a fire burns cheerily. The woman goes and calls through a side door, "Syeira, please put a pot of tea on, we have guests." Kadin, for his part, seems to prefer to wait outside. "Go ahead," he tells them quietly, "I … would rather not know."

The witchdoctor leaves the guard behind, and pours through the doorway, folding his arms again. "Your town is an orderly one, Lyanka," hisses Qing. "Does your magistrate meet often with the public?"

Olivia follows along behind the other two. When Kadin indicates that he would rather wait outside, she nods once to him and closes the door after herself.

"Oh, not often. We are just a simple community and people look out for each other here. Why do you ask?" Lyanka asks as she glances back, then her eyes widening a bit as she seems to read some meaning into the mage's question. "If you're thinking of causing trouble, well, you will find our town is capable of defending itself."

The mage shakes his head. "I am too old to be a Collegia investigator, that is for journeymen in their prime. I have no designs on your town, you have nothing to fear from me. Curiosity and rumor, mostly. Your country is one rich in the arts. I had been told your magistrate practiced."

"Ah. Well, I don't know if we will be seeing them today or not. Things have been peaceful, so no reason for them to come around," Lyanka says, seeming to calm down a little bit. She steps to the side and a Skreek girl of about fifteen and in a flowery dress comes through the door. She's carrying a tray with several cups on it and an apparently heavy pot of tea, given her expression of biting her tongue in concentration as she carries it to the table. Again Mage Qing can tell this one has origins in the real world.

As the Skreek girl enters the room, Olivia quirks one eyebrow at the mage, as if to ask, Is this a real spirit, too?

On pretense of assisting, one of the Naga's gangly arms reaches out to support the tray from the bottom, and using the proximity to get an impression of the spirit. He gives Olivia a significant look, bobbing his head slightly, then addresses Lyanka again. "Just as well. There is no hurry. Perhaps I will request an audience later. 'Them', you say… a council, then?"

The girl sets the tray down on the table and runs the back of her hand across her brow. She then starts setting out the cups and filling them with tea. Lyanka still eyes Qing a bit warily, but answers, says, "Yes, we have a council of three which protect our town." The girl doesn't look up at the two guests, but asks, "Do you have news about Father? Is that why you wish to see the elders?"

At the mage's look, Olivia makes a note of this spirit, as well. This time, she tries to cover her study of the girl by taking a seat at the table and glancing at her from the corners of her eyes.

"Your father is Dr. Demetri?" ventures Qing. "I have not, but I may return to Justininople in time, and see what I can learn on your behalf."

The girl nods at that. "Yes, father is the best doctor in this area," she says, "But, as he always likes to say: You can always be better and have more knowledge."

Olivia smiles her thanks to Syeira and blows on her cup of tea to cool it. Then she asks conversationally, "Oh, so your father is a medical doctor, not a doctor of magic? Perhaps it just took him a while longer to find someone appropriate to study with. Did he mention anything about that before he left?"

"Father dabbled a bit in magic, but always said it just wasn't enough for most things," Syeira answers shyly as she sets the teapot back on the tray and lifts it up to return it to the kitchen.

Qing coils by the table, folding a pair of hands on top of it. "It is true what he says, Syeira. I myself have always sought to expand my ability. My practice is intertwined with medicine, so I had hoped to share some of your father's knowledge."

"I am sure he would love to talk with you too," Lyanka says with a smile as Syeira carries the tea back into what is presumed to be the kitchen. "Perhaps if you left your name and with instructions on how to contact you, he would once he returns?"

While Lyanka and Qing talk, Olivia looks around the cozy living room, hoping that she might see a painting, or a certificate of training on the wall – anything at all that might clue her in to exactly who these spirits were in life.

The house is fairly generic as simple village homes tend to be. No portraits present themselves nor do any certificates on the wall. There is, however, a desk in the far corner covered with stacks of papers and a few books.

The reptile takes up his cup of tea in a spare hand, though it just sort of hovers there, steaming. "You have my name, and correspondence can be sent via the Collegia… but I do not wish to burden you. I travel frequently, and such would likely miss me anyway. I will make a circuit of Schadel and Justininople, and visit back from time to time."

Olivia picks up her cup of tea and says softly, "I hope you don't mind if I stretch my legs a bit?" Then, without waiting for an answer, she smiles to the others and carries her drink slowly about the room, looking at a knick-knack here and there, but always moving in the direction of the desk. Over the Skreek woman's head, she mouths to Qing, Keep her talking. When she gets close enough to the desk, she peers at some of the things lying on its surface.

"Just please don't disturb anything," Lyanka tells Olivia as she gets up to walk around. To Qing, she asks, "So, you are a doctor too, then, as well as a practitioner of magic?"

If Qing noticed, he makes no indication, but he does keep conversational. "I am, mostly as necessary for the benefit of my mage training and profession while in Nagai. I am kssh'atga, and attend to postmortem duties and investigation." He makes a show of sipping his tea, though he doesn't actually partake. "It is perhaps a bit morbid, but necessary. Your husband's knowledge is of value in such duties."

Olivia manages to slink her way over to the desk (Djivan would be proud), and get a glance down at the papers. Most appear to be bills or boring correspondence, but the letterhead stands out on some of them. It's all hand-penned, but it is clear and precise: Demetri Valicross, MD.

"Oh, yes, it would. Demetri runs the town morgue as well as treating many of the illnesses and injuries occurring here," Lyanka says with a smile. "When not seeing patients, he spent most of his time there. Always working, he was. We only got to see him a few nights each week. He always says he would spend more time with us when his work is done. But … it seems as if it's never done. And now he's gone to learn more … I. Oh, I shouldn't be bothering you with this, it is not your problem."

By sheer force of will, Olivia manages not to drop her cup and spill tea all over the cluttered desk. Dear gods, she thinks, this is his family! No wonder he tried to make this place pleasant for them. But that meant he had… he had to- She shakes her head, not wanting to muse on that any further. Slowly, she makes her way back to the table, wondering now how she is going to let Qing know what she has learned.

The Skeek seems to have a sudden afterthought, for she sidles back to the desk and slips one of the more mundane bills into her hand, then folds it underneath the saucer of her teacup. Only then does she make her way back to the table.

The mage raises a hand, palm out. "Do not worry. It is a woe I am all too familiar with. Many think we Naga do not have families, but that is not always so. I had… have a daughter myself. Perhaps not much older than your Syeira."

After she reclaims her seat, Olivia sets her teacup back on the table with one hand and opens the bill in her lap with the other, so that the letterhead is showing. She gives a little cough in Qing's direction, hoping that he will glance her way.

"Is she following in your career choice, Mister Qing?" Lyanka inquires as she goes to prod the burning logs in the fireplace with a poker. "Our Syeira wants to pursue music and art; she does not wish to be a doctor. But, that is fine, it is better for her to be happy, than to follow a path she does not like."

Qing shakes his head. "She has the soul of an artist as well, madame." He reaches to his long neck, and tugs a cord up from under his mantle, setting a couple pendants made of dark polished wood dangling. "She carved these for me… for her birthday, not mine. Always thinking of others." He holds one of the pendants up, fashioned after six hands, and fits the other into it, a small curled serpentine form.

The mage looks momentarily lost in thought, then glances at Olivia when she clears her throat.

Quickly, the Skeek pulls the bill a little more in Qing's direction and taps the name on the letterhead, looking at him intently.

Qing glances down, and takes this in. A brow ridge rises slightly, but his surprise is mild.

Lyanka is still stocking the fire a bit. In a few moments, it is glowing hotly once more. She replaces the poker into the toolstand and stands up, dusting her hands off on the from of the apron she wears. "Really? Well, I hope she does well at it, then," she says as she starts to turn back to the pair.

A light rapping comes on the door. It sure is a day for guests.

"More guests? My, it has been a day," Lyanka says and stops her turn to the two and instead heads to the door. She opens it and peers out. "Hello?"

Taking advantage of this distraction, Olivia quickly folds the bill back up and shoves it forward in her lap, underneath the tablecloth.

A witch with a bushy tail and a Lapi bride stand outside the door. But then it's a witch with a bushy tail and a Skreek woman dressed in normal clothing by the time Lyanka actually gets a good look at them.

Lyanka blinks and shakes her head as if she doesn't quite believe what she sees. "Hello?" she tentatively asks again, "May I help you? If you're looking for the witches council, they're several buildings down from this one."

"Hello, Ma'am," Buffy says before Morgan can say anything. "We're here to check the troll in your basement."

"We thought we'd come and see how you're doing," Morgan says. He glances at Buffy a moment, then shrugs a little. "Yes, the troll."

"Excuse me?" Lyanka asks. "We do not have a troll in our basement. We don't even have a basement."

"No basement?" Buffy says, looking aghast. "Trolls need a certain amount of space to move around in, ma'am. May we come in?"

"Very important," Morgan insists hesitantly.

Tucking his pendants back under the neck of his mantle, Qing rises from where he'd coiled by the table. "We should probably get out of your way then, Mrs. Valicross," he hisses. "Thank you for your hospitality. I will bring word of your husband should I meet him in Justininople."

Lyanka rubs her forehead, looking pained. "I suppose. Just please sit by the fire. I'll go get tea. And maybe some anti-psychotics from my husband's medicine cabinet." She steps away, then heads through the side door that presumably leads to the kitchen. For now, the mage, the vampire, the squirrel and the Skeek find themselves alone.

"So, need me to keep these two distracted?" the disguised vampire-spirit asks Qing and Olivia. "You've been in here an awfully short-long time, relatively speaking."

Olivia claps one hand to her forehead again, as if trying to keep it from falling off. "What a nice introduction you have, Buffy," she remarks.

"Yes, I was wondering about that myself," Morgan says with a sidelong glance to Buffy. "Still, I know when to heed my elders." He glances around the room, and frowns. "Mrs. Valicross, did you say? I … ," he takes a breath, an exhales, "I see."

Olivia nods to the Kadie. "Yes… it would seem that he trapped the spirits of his wife and his daughter in this place, too." Looking to Qing now, she adds, in a softer tone, "Will you be able to send them to their rest, too?"

"Wife and daughter? Oh. Well, that's a different sort of awful. I thought they might be his parents. He seemed the sort of have a … rebellious childhood," the witch remarks.

"We've learned all we need to," hisses Qing. "There is nothing here but a monument to Valicross' life before he ruined everything." He nods at Olivia, setting down his untouched cup of 'tea'. "They are spirits waiting for something that will never come. They have no place, and I will destroy them when we are through. It will be a mercy for them and their legacy, depending on what you believe."

"And here I'd prepared my whole Society for the Preservation of Trolls speech," Buffy mutters. "Have you ever considered the benefits of having a troll in your basement? We at SPOT have a list of several… "

"You really need to get out more, Buffy," Morgan advises.

"All right." The Skeek nods and stands up, putting the folded bill in the seat of her chair before pushing it under the table. "Should we leave here and speak with the other spirits now? Unless, of course," she says, with a glance at Buffy, "we want to watch her worm her way out of the whole, er, 'troll inspection' ruse?"

"What do you mean waiting for something that will never come?" comes a quiet voice from behind the group.

Qing's back stiffens. He slowly turns his head.

Olivia closes her eyes for just a second, then opens them again and turns towards the voice, the insides of her ears pale.

"Hmm?" Morgan turns around, as well, although he lacks the surprise of the others.

Behind Qing stands the girl, Syeira . She's clutching the tray she used earlier to carry the tea in to her chest. "Is Father dead?" she asks, fingers tightening around the edge. Her ears even wilt and she swallows softly. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"Oh my," breathes Morgan. "I always hated these talks," he whispers aside, to Buffy.

Olivia looks swiftly at the others before deciding that, at least in this, honesty is the best policy. "Yes, Syeira," she says simply. "We just came here to confirm certain information before letting your family know. I am… sorry that you lost your father."

The reptile puts a hand to his temple, then slides his hat off, holding the bowl by the rim. He looks weary.

Syeira's head bows down and her eyes clench shut. "We suspected," she whispers, "He's been gone for so long. He said he was going to find a way to beat death once and for all. But, no one can do that, not even Father. Why couldn't he have stayed? Why did he have to go? Weren't we good enough for him? Weren't we important too?" She looks back up at the reptile, eyes brimming with tears.

"Your father lost his way, and became blinded by his quest. He is at rest now, and whatever may have been, is settled," the witch says. He flicks his tail around and begins combing it uncomfortably, using a hand.

"I'd say you were important to him, though," Buffy notes.

"What is going to happen to us? The town has supported us because we were his family, but … if he is gone. What will we do now?" the girl asks. "We can't make enough on our own and Father's savings won't last forever."

If Qing could close his lidless eyes, he would. "Child, understand this… my daughter is dead as well. She was taken from me, and I became a mage in my own bid to try to cheat death. I did everything I could, but found nothing. I am certain he did what he did for you. Go back and help your mother. You father practiced magic, thus it is my duty with the Collegia to see to you both." He replaces his hat, hiding his face. "The rest of you. Leave now."

Buffy takes Morgan's and Olivia's elbows, and says, "Let's bring some tea out to the cute soldier," as she pushes them towards the door.

Yes, Master Qing. We'll be outside." The Kadie fetches the tray, and steps outside.

Olivia just lets Buffy lead her to the door without saying another word. Her jaw, however, is clenched tightly shut and her elbow shakes underneath the vampire's hand.

The room clears, living an uncomfortable silence between the mage and the girl. She looks at him for a long while before her head bows back down. "Thank you for telling us," she whispers, "Father would have liked you." She turns away and slips back into the kitchen. There's another moment of uncomfortable silence, then the soft sound of crying.

Outside Kadin is just crouching down a few feet away from the door. "It is hard to believe this is how it looked once. It was nothing like this when I was here," he says as he looks down at the spot beneath his feet. "I think this spot is where I … died."

Hoping to calm herself by talking to the soldier, Olivia goes over to him and asks gently, "Maybe you shouldn't think about that. Tell me… tell me a little about your old fiance'. The one I'm going to write the letter to? What was she like?"

Having nothing to say to that, Morgan just offers the man a cup of tea. "Tea?"

The mage simply clears the table, and begins murmuring. As he does so, one of the sand-filled skulls emerges from under his mantle, held in one of his many hands. He begins to pour sand in little trickles in a pattern.

"She was the color of the golden sands," Kadin says, though never looking up from the ground before him. "I wasn't good enough for her, in truth. She had breeding and connections; I was just a soldier. Still, she loved me and I loved her. We were supposed to be married in spring that year as the sunlight kissed the dunes on its morning climb. Gods, I don't even know how long it's been now. Last thing I remember thinking before all … this, was that I hoped she would have a happy life and family."

The circle that takes form on the table is a simple one, though precise as the witchdoctor always is. Different colored streamers of sand crisscross and curl inward to an open eye. Qing finishes his muttering, then wipes the sand away from the center of the eye, leaving it to look closed.

Olivia sits down beside Kadin now and says softly, feeling her way, "She sounds lovely. And it also seems to me that she must have seen something special in you – even if you consider yourself 'just a soldier.' What was her name?"

Morgan, having little to say on the matter, turns around and begins peering at the place they've arrived at.

"Zaina Al-Tahirah," Kadin answers and looks up to Morgan and Buffy. "What about both of you? Do you have someone special in your lives?"

"I did once," Buffy says, reverting back to her normal look.

"Uhhhh," is Morgan's answer. He seems intent on staring off, now.

"Were you and he happy?" Kadin asks Buffy.

"At first, yes," Buffy says, smiling. "But something happened, and he left to seek aid from the wrong people. They made him a monster, and though I tried my hardest, I could not save him."

"Sometimes we can do all the right things and still end up losing everything," Kadin says and shakes his head slowly. "I am sorry you lost him."

"Me, too," Morgan says, without looking back.

Inside the building something strange seems to happen. When Qing finishes his circle on the table, the air shimmers and then everything just stops. Even the fire in the fireplace halts; flames frozen in time. To those outside, the building grows dark, the colors fading now to grays and black.

"I did what I could, and what I thought would be best for him," Buffy says. "I can't say I have any regrets, though. I knew what I was getting into."

The pattern on the table, while inert, remains malleable, and Qing begins picking and choosing lines to wipe away, one by one, carefully gathering the sand and sweeping it into the skull. His exorcism isn't the thunderclap that spreads away in waves as it normally is, but rather a slow and methodical unraveling.

The soft crying from the kitchen has gone quiet.

"It seems it'll be time to leave this place soon," the witch comments. "This inner world is about to fade."

Olivia gets to her feet at the witch's words and motions for Kadin to do likewise. "You'll have to lead us back into that maze in just a minute," she tells him. "Are there any other spirits on the lower floors that we need to see to?"

"There are a few. Nothing like this place, though. Most chambers are just cells to contain. Not … a town," Kadin says as he gets back to his feet and stretches out.

Olivia nods briskly. "Then we will do as Mage Qing wanted and speak with them first before exploring the upper floors."

Color continues to drain away, fading like a painting left in the sun. The wind that had set the grass and flowers to dancing stills. Townsfolk in conversation turn to hear something, then take a step and vanish as if they had passed through a bank of fog. Bit by bit, the house grows more indistinct, like an increasingly aging memory… did it have two windows at the front, or one? Was there a porch? Chimney? The only thing that remains sharp and clear in Schadel is the door on the far end of the square

"I wonder if this would happen to me?" Buffy ponder aloud, as she watches the world unravel.

"Is it worth dwelling on, Buffy?" Morgan turns around, shrugging. "There's no use dwelling on our end. Enjoy what you have now, even if that is little." He glances around a moment, and adds, "I've never cared for funerals."

Olivia smiles faintly at the Kadie. "Then perhaps we should start moving to the exit?" She waves a hand at the door with the town's name upon it.

"Being philosophical about my existence is one of my few pastimes," Buffy tells Morgan, and heads for th door.

"It'll just depress you. There are some doors best left closed," Morgan says, as he heads out.

As the town fades around the group, Kadin draws a breath and wraps an arm across his chest, then says, "There are many things worse than dying. But one is worse than all the others: being forgotten." He takes one more look around the fading landscape, then heads towards the door himself.

Olivia watches the others leave for a moment, then calls out towards the house they just left, "We will meet you at the door to this world, Mage Qing!" That done, she follows along in the wake of the group.

There is no answer. The drain of color follows the group slowly, spreading from simple white where Schadel nestled in the meadows, and creeping underfoot to the edges of the door, leaving the space here featureless. Qing follows at last as the motley group is ushered out by unraveling memories. When everyone is safely outside, Qing shuts the door, which itself shrinks down to a keyhole. The Naga places a key in it, which is sucked inside, and the keyhole winks out of existence. Placing his palm on the brass plate, he wipes his hand across it, leaving it blank. "Let us continue on."

Kadin just nods quietly and heads up the bizarre staircase several 'floors'. The next door as about as nondescript as the previous. Another nameplate is anchored beside it. 'Adelind' it reads. "This one is just a cell, if you can call it that. A contained spirit for use later," Kadin explains.

"How were they used?" Buffy asks out of curiosity.

"Are they all spirits of once living beings, or are the others, such as vampires like Buffy and spirits of the wood and sky," inquires Morgan.

"They were consumed as sources of energy for the development of Valicross' attempt at lichdom," hisses Qing. He looks the nameplate over. "Does anyone know this Adelind?"

"Valicross used them in several ways, I believe. As the Mage says, many were used on his quest to become immortal. All of them were living people at one time, generally," Kadin answers.

"If anything, this has taught me a valuable lesson about necromancy. I never want to be this sort of man. The only spirits I want to willingly deal with are the living ones, from our living world. The dead should rest in peace," the witch mumbles.

"Does that mean I won't be seeing you again, Morgan?" Buffy whispers to the Kadie.

"You should rest in peace, too," Morgan answers quietly. "Until you do, I'll be here for you."

Once again, Olivia passes the others to stand in front of the door and touch its nameplate. "I think I know… well, a little, anyway." Her brow furrows as she tries to remember. "This one is a name – the name of another witch, in fact. She protected a town some distance away from Stonebarrow. And as I recall, she disappeared about… what? Five years ago? Ten, maybe?" She quirks an eyebrow at Morgan, to see if he knows any more.

Morgan glances at the sign, looks back, then does a double-take. "Adelind … Adelind … Where have I heard that name before?" He reaches up and scratches at his head, then his eyes widen. "Head! HAT! Of course!" He suddenly hurries forward, "Adelind the witch!"

"Ten years ago," the witch clarifies. "We were all young, then. I didn't hear much."

"Then you will be the one to speak, Nightshade," hisses Qing. "I will observe and repair what I can."

The door swings open and the group finds themselves looking into a room shaped like a sphere. Floating in the center is a shimmering shape of an older woman, this time a human, dressed in the rather traditional garb of a Sylvanian witch. She's half-curled up, wearing the expression of one who is lost.

"Adelind the Witch, I am Morgan the Witch, from Stonebarrow. We are here to release you from your torment – Valicross is dead," Morgan says after he bursts inside.

"A voice in the darkness," the human murmurs, her head rolling back and her unfocused eyes trying to find Morgan. "Torment me no longer, I beg of you. Quit sending me false hopes and dreams."

"Ohhh, boy," Morgan sighs. "Well, she's clearly suffering from delusions – or had been, until we arrived. She may not trust we are even real. I'll do what I can, but it may be better to simply put her to rest, rather than wrack her mind while trying to communicate." The Kadie steps forward again, "This is no trick, but I have no proof besides my witchhood. I may know what Valicross could not."

"Just speak as you would, Nightshade. Allow me to work," hisses Qing. A monocle is brought up to his eye, and he flicks his tongue a few times, mumbling as is his habit.

"How can you be a witch?" the human asks, sounding tired, "You are not even a woman. Not even … " She pauses as she seems to see something, "Come closer."

"It's a long story. I was the only candidate," Morgan explains. He glances back to the others, shrugs a little, then steps forward.

While Morgan is otherwise occupied, Olivia sidles up next to Buffy and says to her in an undertone, "Um, if you don't mind my asking… were you the one who bit Miranda on her, uh, rear end a few weeks back?"

The human peers at the Kadie through unfocused eyes. "Xochi?" she manages out, "Surely it's Xochi."

Morgan blinks, then sighs. "Oh Spirits of the Great Forest," he says in a pained voice, "not this again! Look," he holds out his hands, as if to show them to the woman, "I'm a Kadie. Xochi was bad joke."

The Naga mage stays out of the conversation, but his murmuring changes slightly, and he extends a hand toward the bound spirit while she has her attention on Morgan. It passes through her back, and can be seen from within, those ghostly streamers curling away from his fingers again.

Buffy smiles to Olivia, and nods. "And her friend Liliana gave me a fur tattoo later, as well."

Olivia ohs and looks as if that was just as she suspected, but then her brow furrows. "How come? Um… it wasn't because you were hungry, was it? That did concern us all at the time, since she was dumped in the hot springs afterward… "

The specter of the human seems to be growing slowly more solid from the work Qing does. More lucid too as her eyes actually start focusing on the Kadie before her. "Surely you are Lord Xochi. I would recognize those colors anywhere," she murmurs to the Kadie.

"No, no. My mother assures me that I am not, in fact, a Creen," Morgan insists. "Really. That was all just a joke some bog spirits decided to play on me, little tricksters they are."

"I wanted to learn how to read her music notation," Buffy admits. "So I… tasted… some of her memories."

The human smiles and nods at that. "As you like, Xochi," she murmurs, still sounding tired. "Can you help me rest? So very tired. I just want to … sleep."

Olivia hmms and looks rather interested, in spite of herself. "Wow… I didn't know vampires could see into people's memories by doing that," she admits.

"Ohh, very well." Morgan reaches up and rubs the bridge of his nose, then nods. "Yes, Lord Xochi can let you rest. Master Qing," he glances back, "let us allow her her final peace. Make an end of this, please."

"I drank a bit of her spirit," Buffy explains. "It's in the blood. Full vampires need to drink the whole thing along with the person's life to sustain their undead state."

Qing's crimson eyes are fixed on Buffy, however. "You consumed of this person? How much did you destroy? There is little left of this one."

Buffy blinks back at Qing. "What? I didn't destroy anything! I've never met this Adelind… "

Olivia jumps as Qing addresses Buffy now and looks aghast. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for him to overhear us and focus on you!" she whispers. "I thought he was still working… "

Qing's face is difficult to read, but he returns his attention to the spirit he's working on. "Very well, Nightshade, if there is nothing to pass on to next of kin."

"Is there anything you'd like to pass on, before you go, Adelind?" Morgan steps forward and tries to take the woman's hand. "We can see to your final wishes."

"Just tell my town that I passed defending as a witch is expected," the human says as her eyes droop closed. "I have no regrets; I served my duty."

"Very well, I'll see they know." Morgan pats the woman's hand, then nods back to Qing. "Give her peace."

The mage nods, and more hands join where the one was before. They touch knuckle to knuckle, palms out, and Qing mumbles under his breath, then spreads his hands away to dissipate the spirit's pattern.

As the spirit fades, Morgan shakes his head. "How could she know about Xochi?" he wonders aloud.

As the mage's hands separate, so does the specter of the human. She disintegrates into motes of light that swirl and dance, then fade from existence. The spherical room grows dark and cold; its purpose gone. "There are more like this one. It will be a long walk to the top, so we had better keep moving," Kadin says as he steps back from the door.

"Spirits can see other spirits, Morgan," Buffy notes. "Perhaps she noticed your wings?"

Olivia steps a little closer to Buffy, almost protectively, as the Khatta's spirit waves them to the door. "Then let's continue. Even after this, there's still a lot more work to be done."

"Lord Xochi, it's just a joke the bog spirits played on me. It's who they said I was, but it's nonsense," Morgan clarifies. "It's just odd she'd know about that."