#her saying 'i knew you were scared!' makes me feel like shes using the groke as proof someone is scared?? maybe??

[teapotgremlin]

Can't tell if this is a 'its behind me, isnt it?' moment, or if Little My has befriended the Groke and this shot is just a power move

[pen-observing]

when the sun goes down

synopsis: you are a seelie spirit of the sun that once lived before Snezhnaya got the name oposite of your existance. you are part of the lost history and childe meets you when he is lost himself. promising to hold his hand was both a blessing and a curse.

warnings: mentions of blood, implied death word count: 1k  MASTERLIST

when he was seven childe ran away from home as an act of blatant rebellion. looking back on it he is aware just how naïve it was; the idea and concept of being able to run away from problems. they never left him alone and he doubts anyone got a satisfactory ending from footprints in the snow and a door slammed in the face of others. his steps, his high belief and small puffs of air that appeared as he was running just mark naivety but also wonder for what came later on. the wonder that was you.

childe does not remember what made him turn left instead of right that day. unfamiliar roads simply had to mean his freedom back then even if there were stories created just to scare kids like him away. he is not a fool. he knows that the most this snow of his homeland hides is simply crime and treachery. he sees it in his father’s eyes. There is no groke* waiting in hiding – there is only hidden wounds.  

that is the reason he ran away. others were unwilling to answer his questions even if he knew his fate was inevitable. he simply had to know the truth at that moment but in the next one – he wishes that he did not turn left because he was both lost literally and figuratively. what was there to do? sit in the middle of the snow, bring his chin to his knees and pray that others were not afraid to find him.  

and then entered you. childe was so, so cold and when he felt your gentle hand on his head, he swears he started breathing again. he swears that it was made of sunlight just for him.

“do not be afraid.” what a melodious voice. “we all get lost sometimes.”  

he knows your words were meant to be comforting and from that feeling of comfort he finally felt safe enough to cry. you stood still for a second but then he felt your arms embracing him and playing with his hair until he calmed down. and when he did; he moved away and simply grabbed your hand.  

“did you know you glow?”

how charming. You looked at him and smiled, nodding your head. What a question. did you, the very spirit of the sun, know you glow? dis words were so comforting for your identity. childe’s eyes looked even brighter now that they were done crying and looking in your direction. the human eye has always taken in light; filled themselves with it.  

“yes, i know. i am the spirit of the sun to put it simply.” “sun? ...in this land of snow?”  

he was less foolish than you initially thought.  

“did you run away because you felt wronged, boy?” “h-how did you know?” “because that feeling is connected to why I am here. I will tell you my story if you agree to go home afterwards.”

he agreed. and you told him what it meant to be a spirit of the sun in this cruel land.  

“i am a seelie, not a spirit, to be exact. i hold the power of the sunlight. my kind has been on this land long before your kind came to us and long before it looked like this. when i came to exist, there was no snow.”  

he took in all of your light but you did not mind it. he was a pure soul so unlike to the humans that were so greedy for light that meant your demise. they were so greedy that punishment came and the snow fell over everything. in a true tragic manner – it meant your end as well. but there is no reason for him to know that, right? Why should he?

“because of circumstance, i now only have so much power to show myself once a year for a day to see what has become of my own home. i am glad that i did it today to meet someone as pure as you.”  

childe looked down for a moment, gazed into the snow that meant your end.  

“does that mean...does that mean that when the sun goes down you will leave as well?”

“yes, that is why we have to hurry. i need to show you the way back so you can go to your home.”

he did not say anything after that. hand in hand you two walked the trail he came by. while he was not foolish, he was still a small boy and forgot that the snow showed his footprints. the weak sun was sinking but the lights of his house were already on; probably making sure he could see where to come to.

“hey!” “hmm? why aren’t you going in? you promised me.” “if you are a spirit, can you grant wishes?” “that depends on what your wish is.” “i want you to see me again and hold my hand like this when you get enough power back!”

how pure. how utterly pure. you promised him that you would and now childe curses himself for that because you shouldn't come and see him like this. you shouldn’t come and see him on the snow, in his own blood, because; because he is sure the homeland will hide it like all of the other secrets beneath a white veil.   the being of the sun should not be in the presence of the man betrayed by his own affiliations. yet, you are. because the same thing happened to you eons ago.

childe closes his eyes when he feels your hand reach for his own as you lay down next to him – he is unable to look at you.

“i am here. i promised.” “i know.” “you just got lost along the way again. i swear, you are as pure as the first time i met you.” he knows that you are lying. he knows that your light should not touch his blood or hold his sinful hand like this. still, your eternal light is starting to slip from him; the warmth is slowly leaving – he holds your hand tighter than ever before.  

the first time he learned to breathe from your touch; this time he is desperately fighting to recreate that miracle. you hold his hand as the sun goes down but this time - both of you disappear.  

-

* groke - is a fictional character in the Moomin stories created by Tove Jansson. she appears as a ghost-like, hill-shaped body with two cold staring eyes and a wide row of white shiny teeth. wherever she stands, the ground below her freezes and plants and grass die. she leaves a trace of ice and snow when she walks the ground. anything that she touches will freeze. 

[inventors-fair]

A Brief History of Surprise

I feel that with this first round of submissions, I’m seeing a lot of “complexity for complexity’s sake,” a lot of “what ifs” that rely on clever appearances taking precedent over elegant design. With that in mind, I thought I’d do a little bit of a personal essay on what I found surprising over Magic’s history. I hope that you will learn a little more about what I’m after and maybe relate to some of it yourselves.

So, what surprised me?

Incremental Rewards

My first block ever was the Alara block, and I’ll always have some nostalgia for it, despite the weirdness. Following that, though, was Zendikar. Zendikar was a fast, aggressive set, and yet there were payoffs that I found amazing once you got there. Sadistic Sacrament was pretty mediocre on its own, but once I ramped up to ten mana, I could selectively mill my opponent and they would know exactly what I had taken out. Hopelessness! Fantastic! And then I saw my first brand-new build-around-me card: Archmage’s Ascension. You could build up over time, over specific cards, with specific strategies, and then control to your heart’s content. Tutoring every turn! What power! And all you had to do was work for it. 

Following this, I will say that the Eldrazi surprised me too. Big creatures with massive rewards, sure, they were...something. But there was something off about them, something that I still find strange. I think that their god-like card value was too much for me to handle. I didn’t focus on playing them — I focused on how to beat them. And that wasn’t fun. I was scared. Keyword soup has its time and place, but ability soup has to be balanced.

That New Recursion

The Return to Ravnica prerelease was the first one I had ever been to. Scavenge, Overload, Unleash, Detain and Populate were all fantastic mechanics, and then came along Gatecrash. The fact is, Extort remains my favorite out of all of them to play, but I keep coming back to Cipher. What a messed-up and amazing flavor, complex and strange, nuanced and difficult. Hitting with a creature and creating spells every turn was hard to pull off, but the design remains one of my favorites, and I don’t know why.

I wish they had brought it back for Modern Horizons, honestly. It’s hard to make flavorfully work in every context, because frankly, it almost sounds like sci-fi. And yet it works! It’s shadowy, powerful, strong-get-stronger vibe. And even though it wasn’t really popular, well, I still loved it. I wanted to give other spells Cipher. I wanted to see more than what was there. I wanted to unlock its secrets.

Just my Type

I groked Bestow. Theros as a whole was the set I played the most socially for a good long time. I didn’t like every aspect, but I think that Bestow was the mechanic I was least expecting. Enchantment creatures made sense, no different than artifact creatures. But now, we had creatures that could become auras, creatures that targeted upon casting, beings that engulfed other beings in light and stars and the power of Nyx!

Bestow was the first mechanic I knew I couldn’t have come up with by any stretch of the imagination, not on my own. I had been making custom cards since high school, and this was early in my college career. I was bowled over, blown away, enthralled — enchanted, if you will. I still enjoy Theros limited. It’s no Innistrad, but it’s fun, a swing between battlecruising, aggressive strategizing, and the occasional God.

Speaking of, the Gods surprised me as well. I loved these things. Their lack of creature-dom, the ability to become real and then swing in with cackling precision, was just what I loved about powerful cards those days. You had to work for them. They didn’t just do things on their own. I liked Magic the most when you had to figure it out. Maybe that’s why I’m liking Party so much in this new set.

Coming Together

You know, looking back on my Magic history and personal journey, I find myself pleasantly surprised by two specific mechanics: Party and Historic. These aren’t mechanics per se like Cipher or Bestow, but the batching made sense in a flavorful way that changed the way I build decks in limited. I searched for specific aspects, played my cards to maximize the benefit of playing other cards, and had to make something cohesive that rewarded me for playing right. That’s really all you want out of a game.

I had a blast playing with ZNR and DOM in the drafts that I was able to do, even if I didn’t do the best compared to other players. Utilizing complex mechanics made me feel good even when I wasn’t the best at them. That’s what surprised me the most, considering my lukewarm reception to the cards at first. I underestimated how much I’d enjoy playing with them because I underestimated myself.

Okay, now I’m going to run down a list of surprising cards to me and why I love them. Most of these cards I was surprised upon seeing them, and many played well as well. Let’s get specific.

Mirror-Sigil Sergeant: I get to play my favorite color AND get hella rhinos out of it? Double double, baby!

Thraximundar: I think this is still one of my favorite legends. I want to know everything about him. That name, that flavor... Oh, and a decent card, I suppose.

Ransack the Lab: This is exactly what black should be doing! Great card, you love to see it and play it.

As Foretold: Holy crap, this card. I love it so much. Combo exploitable, free spell increments, great name, great art. I had to reread it so many times.

Vorapede: I always love my Baneslayers, but I pulled this card blind, and the aggression was more than I was used to.

Elbrus, the Binding Blade: Another blind Dark Ascension card! This was the kind of reward I loved working up to.

Gauntlets of Light: I wanted this card and I got this card. Toughness aggro is a beast to beat.

Klothys, God of Destiny: This card surprised me because I hadn’t expected a multicolored God. But she fit well, she played GREAT, and I love her.

Shaman of the Great Hunt: Repeatable multicolored draw? Jesus, what a beast. I felt my stomach turn when this thing hit the table.

Bestial Menace: Oh, an old favorite. Animal summoning never felt so good. I wanted them all to be friends.

Avacyn, Angel of Hope: So simple, so powerful, and she did exactly what she said on the tin. Feels good every time.

The Adventure mechanic: Never before seen, impossible to conceive, staggeringly surprising, and it played great.

Ugin, the Spirit Dragon: Powerful, yes, but the flavor? Ghostfire, plus removal, and then the inverse of his brother Nicol Bolas. Could not have been better.

Should you play to my favorites? Well, obviously not. Should you push the envelope? Don’t push it off a cliff; it’s not a paper airplane. Should you think about your past and consider how the designers of Magic created your own favorite cards that made you gasp and squeal and swear?

YES. Yes! That’s the whole point of this contest! Delve into yourself! Make something that you love! Do something that’s new and yours but is rooted in the real! You’re not here to show off the possibilities of your custom card maker, you’re here to make something you love! If you don’t love it, start over. If you love it for the wrong reasons, start over. Magic should be for everyone. That’s the thing about all those cards and mechanics and ramblings above there: those are the reasons I love those cards. A thousand other players can love them for a thousand other reasons. Empathize beyond.

We are a community. Never forget that. 

@abelzumi​

[geminiamethyst]

Possession. Chapter 9 (FINAL CHAPTER)

FINALLY! AFTER ALMOST A FULL YEAR, I have finally reached the end of Possession. Sorry it took so long to get to the end of, I just didn’t originally plan for it to be this long. But, you know what? I’m glad it did anyway.

Okay, because this is the final chapter, I can not stress enough to tell you guys to skip this chapter and read the previous chapters using the links below if you have not done so already. If you don’t, trust me, you will regret it.

I’d also like to say a final big thank you to Schusseltier, avril-circus and laambart for allowing me to write this story as they are the ones that came up with the original comic strips that inspired me to write this. Please give them all your love as they are amazing artists.

Enjoy the chapter.

The road to recovery was easy enough physically for Snufkin. All the bruises had cleared up and his body no longer felt like fragile glass that threatened to break at every move he made. However, it was mentally that was the challenge. For a whole week straight, he woke up in the night screaming from the nightmarish memories of when he was possessed that plagued him. Joxter was by his side at every scream he made and comforted him back to sleep, but it did nothing to help sooth his mind from going haywire. Though it was only for a week that the nightmares had gone on for, to Snufkin it felt like months. He hated feeling trapped like that. The spirit was gone, he knew that. But he had suffered so much when he was a prisoner in his head. He would look over his shoulder at every noise behind him when he walked and if someone had snuck up behind him without saying something, he would either flinch badly or scream in a panic when they place a hand on his shoulder. It had gotten terribly bad when Stinky (who in no time at all learned about what had happened somehow) played a nasty prank on him when he was in the forest getting some supplies for his winter wandering. He had frightened him by using a horn to project his voice around the area, making it impossible for Snufkin to pinpoint where it had come from. If that didn’t freak him enough, Stinky had then screamed down his ear so suddenly that it almost gave the poor traveller a heart attack, literally. It was so bad that Snufkin was curled up like a frightened child and wasn’t willing to move until Moomin, Joxter and Little My found him.

He was that scared of being possessed again.

Madame Portia had been doing everything she could to help him through the healing. She had been making him come up to Moominhouse daily to make sure that he was fine. Results were the same with physically, with the mental recovery becoming slightly better each passing day. She feared that the encounter with Stinky’s bullying would have set him back terribly but he surprised her greatly the day after the incident.

“He truly is you brother, isn’t he?” The medium had teased a bit at Little My that day, further commenting that Snufkin was stronger than he looked.

“You should never doubt my family!” Little My only smirked, earning a smile from Snufkin. Ever since that night, even after all the secrets that were kept, Snufkin felt like he was closer than he ever was with his family since he was reunited with them. It made him all the more determined to see his mother during his Winter wandering with Joxter.

Madame Portia had left a week after that, feeling the need to leave the valley before Winter and help another household with a spirit problem. The family said their goodbyes to her, with Moominmamma giving her some Jasmine tea to have on her travels. Madame Portia too had left some gifts with the family. She gifted the Moomin family a talisman to hang up on a wall to help protect the household from evil spirits and a beaded bracelet made out of turquoise for Snufkin with the same purpose. Despite Little My teasing him a little, Snufkin gratefully slipped the spiritual jewellery on, again fearing for him being possessed again. Feeling that she had done enough for the family, Madame Portia left, promising the family that if they ever meet again, she’ll only bring good fortune upon the family.

Sadly as the time went, Winter had finally creeped in. It felt like it had come quicker than it should have. The frost remained permanent on the ground, making the once lush, soft, green grass dry up and become nothing more than had brown coloured stems. Flowers wittered and died, driving off all the insects that had decorated them in the Spring and Summer. The trees were striped completely of their leafs, making them look like nothing more than tall, menacing figures, especially in the dark of the long nights. Clouds covered the sky, blocking the sun and the beautiful blue that was the sky. The air constantly looked like it was damp and it was also bitter, the wind becoming harsh and icy. No matter where you stepped in Moominvalley, it felt like the Groke was standing right next to you, or it felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Lady of The Cold.

Everywhere you looked in Moominvalley, it seemed like Summer was no more than a distant memory.

Snufkin sat on the handrail of the the bridge, just like he had started doing, waiting for Moomin to come out to say goodbye (A/N For those that don’t know, I’m referencing back to episode 85 of the 90’s series). His camp was packed up, leaving behind nothing more than a rectangle of flattened and worn out grass. A circle where he would have his campfire stayed, blackened permanently on the ground. His things were packed into the knapsack that was beside him. The only difference was that Joxter was standing by, waiting to go. He blew out a puff of smoke from his old pipe. He looked up at the clouded sky, noticing that the smoke blended well with the grey that blanketed the sky. He impatiently tapped his foot, knowing full well that it’ll start snowing any second. As much as he didn’t mind waiting, he’d rather get going before the snow gets too deep to walk through. His prayers were answered when he heard the sound of running feet coming towards the bridge. Snufkin stopped playing his harmonica, hearing Moomin approaching as well. He looked towards the young troll, feeling a smile spread across his face. Moomin stopped on the bridge, catching his breath from the running. He glanced at Snufkin’s knapsack, noting how full it looked despite Snufkin not owning very much. His heart sank a little, remembering that he wouldn’t see Snufkin until he awoke from hibernation and Spring had once again returned, bringing the valley back to life.

“Time to leave?” Moomin asked, feeling a little stupid as he already knew the answer.

“Yes. Everything is just going as they should now that some things are back to normal.” Snufkin smiled sadly, hopping off of the handrail. He slipped his harmonica in his pocket before looking a little sadly at Moomin. “Just remember that I’m going to be a little late coming back.” Moomin’s ears drooped a little and his tail became limp. With everything that had happened, he had completely forgotten what Snufkin had told him on Halloween.

“You’ll be seeing your mother though. Like I said, it’ll be worth the wait for you coming back. I hope everything goes well with meeting your mother.” He smiled a little, trying to make himself feel better. Snufkin only smiled at him a little, trying to reassure him that everything will be alright. He grabbed his knapsack and slipped the burden on his back. Moomin could do nothing more than watch sadly at this sight. He hated this time of year to say the least. He hated to see Snufkin leave for the Winter, knowing that he would never see him until Spring. It eased him a little as he reminded himself that he would be hibernating during that time. However, it still felt heavy on him. To him, it was not fair. But he knew that it would be unfair to Snufkin to force him to stay. Snufkin, after all, was a vagabond, a free spirit. It would be cruel to chain him to one place. He knew that it would be better to let Snufkin go, but it still didn’t stop him from being sad.

“HOLD IT!”

Snufkin, Moomin and Joxter turned to see Little My running towards them from Moominhouse. With the speed she was running at, you’d think the Groke was chasing her. The trio caught sight that she was carrying something in her hand, but her arms were going so fast that all they could make was a blurry white object. She skidded to a very sudden holt on the bridge, almost slipping on the frost that had remained on the bridge.

“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye to your sister, were you?” She shouted after catching her breath.

“Sorry My, but usually you don’t do that. I thought you were asleep already.” Snufkin said as he knelt down to her.

“Yeah, well, I’m only doing this once! So don’t expect me to do it all the time.” Little My smirked, hands on her hips. She suddenly looked at what she was holding. “Do me a favour will you?”

“Of course.” Snufkin said before the small girl thrusted an envelope into his hands.

“Give this to Mother for me. I owe her a letter.” She said, her face softening a little, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “And.....be careful out there, okay?” Snufkin smiled. He surprised her by pulling her into a hug as a thank you. At first, the older sibling was stunned, but patted his back a little. “Yeah, yeah. Just get outta here before I get too soft. And you!” Joxter jumped a little as Little My pointed at him after Snufkin let him go. Little My’s features turned serious but meaningful. “You had better take good care of my brother. If something happens to him I will personally hunt you down myself!”

“Of course.” Grinned Joxter in amusement, his pipe held between his teeth. It faded as soon as something small, soft and white made its way to the top of his nose. Everyone looked up at the sky. Snowflakes had finally started to fall, twirling and spinning gracefully to the valley, almost like a ballet dancer performing on stage. At first, they fell thinly, only one snowflake coming down once every second, before they multiplied. The snowfall had started to become so dense that Joxter started to worry that he and Snufkin might have to wade through ankle deep snow before they could leave the valley. As Snufkin placed the letter delicately in his knapsack, his father placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him that it was time to go. Snufkin stood up and slipped his burden back on his back.

“So long, my friend. And I promise that I’ll be back before Spring is over.” He smiled sadly, extending a hand out for Moomin to shake. Instead of shaking it in his paw however, the young troll pulled the traveller into a heartfelt hug. He wrapped his arms a little awkwardly around the knapsack, but he still held a little tight. Snufkin stood a little shocked at this sudden interaction.

“Come back safe.” Moomin whispered, his voice a little hoarse as if he was going to cry. Snufkin blinked, then brought his arms around his best friend, giving him a reassuring hug. It felt warm despite the cold chill in the air.

“I promise.” He whispered into Moomin’s ear before the best friends released each other. It felt empty now that they had let go. Became colder all of a sudden. Little My climbed up onto Moomin until she stood on his shoulder, holding one arm around his head to keep her balance. Moomin, unfazed by this, watched with envy as his best friend and Joxter walked away, leaving shallow footprints in the thin layer of snow that had already started falling. They slowly became nothing more than two green dots. Moomin promptly wiped a tear that had trailed down his cheek.

“GOOD LUCK, SNUFKIN!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. He wasn’t sure if it was the snow making him think it or not, but for a few seconds, he believed that he had seen Snufkin stop, turn and wave back at those he called family. Moomin and Little My waved back. They continued until Snufkin and Joxter disappeared for good. Now Winter has officially come to Moominvalley.

And Moomin couldn’t wait until next year, when Moominvalley is blessed by the return of Spring.

And Snufkin to come back with it.

The End.

That’s it everyone. Final chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it. Sorry if it feels anticlimactic, but I don’t care. I don’t know where to go next, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out. If you guys want me to do a short story where Snufkin meets his mother or something like that, feel free to let me know.

In the meantime, have a nice day.

Here are the rest of the chapters, for those that are late to the party.

Chapter 1: click HERE

Chapter 2: click HERE

Chapter 3: click HERE

Chapter 4: click HERE

Chapter 5: click HERE

Chapter 6: click HERE

Chapter 7: click HERE

Chapter 8: click HERE

Links to the original artists:

Schusseltier: click HERE

avril-circus: click HERE

laambart: click HERE

[geminiamethyst]

Possession. Chapter 7.

Sorry this took a while guys, I’ve been busy with work and finishing college.

Okay so let’s get down with the usual speech: if you haven’t read the previous chapters, do me a favour and use the links at the end to bring yourself up to speed with it. If you don’t and you are beyond confused with where the story is going, then you have yourself to blame.

Enjoy the chapter!

“What...what do you mean ‘someone died last time’?” Moomin asked, his voice shaking was nothing compared to his trembling paws. Madame Portia looked down at the table in despair. The room had become so tense that you could pierce it with a sword. It had become cold too, almost like the Groke was standing in a dark corner of the room with them. Every light in the room flickered in response to the tension and the cold. Everyone around the medium didn’t dare speak or even breathe as they waited for her to get out of her frozen-like-a-statue state. The only sound that could be heard was the autumn wind battering again the windows. The panes rattled so much that the glass almost threatened to shatter. The silence was too long for the family, almost making it feel like they were being attacked. It felt like someone had taken a knife and started to slowly and agonisingly cut into each and every one of the people in the room. It was almost too much for Moomin to bare.

“I had been through a situation like this, where a vengeful spirit possessed a living person. In that case however, the vessel was seven year old girl.” Madame Portia finally spoke, sadness lingering in her voice. Everyone listened intently to what she had to say. “A family came to me, saying that they thought that they were being haunted by the spirit of a relative that was aggressive towards the family. They kept finding themselves with scratches and bruises almost daily. They begged me to try to help them, and of course, I agreed. We performed a seance, just like tonight. The girl wasn’t meant to be there but the spirit possessed her while she was sleeping in her bedroom. Just like tonight we had to restrain her until I prepared the ritual to ban the spirit to the other side. However, I was reckless. I didn’t think of the risks, I just wanted to free that poor child. But just as the spirit was leaving the girl’s body, he took her spirit with him. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. The parents begged me to bring their daughter back, but...” the medium stopped, her throat clenching, threatening to strangle her. Tears started to make trail lines in the wrinkles of her face. “Once the Gate closes the spirit on the other side, that’s it. They never return. Her parents blamed me for her death, and I accepted the blame, it was mine to bare. That girl was so young, she had her whole life ahead of her, but it was snuffed out because of an error I made. That was sixty years ago, but I have never forgiven myself, and I never will.” Everyone couldn’t move or speak after the medium told her tale. While they were desperate for the ritual to be performed before, now all they could feel was dread. They had been so focused on the solution of the spirit leaving Snufkin’s body, that they didn’t think of any other consequences that were to happen. To have Snufkin being trapped in his own body was bad enough, but to lose him for good would be too much for the family. Moomin fought back the tears, trying his best to hold it all together.

“So what?!” Little My suddenly shouted. Everyone looked at her in shock. “One girl dies because you made a mistake. Oh boo hoo! That was in the past. Yeah you regret what happened, but this is now! You have said that you’d help us!”

“Please Madame! I just got back together with my son. I am not losing him again.” Joxter begged, kneeling down to be eye level with the medium.

“Please. Snufkin is more than a friend. He’s like my big brother. He’s family.” Moomin joined in, his eyes widen with desperation, stinging with tears. If Madame Portia hadn’t leaned all her weight on her walking stick, she had done so now. The walking stick let out its age, creaking a little, almost threatening to break under the old woman’s weight. The family watched as she had become unbearably silent. It felt like someone had flicked a switch, making Madame Portia devoid of all emotions and unresponsive everything around her. After what felt like an eternity, the small old woman got up from her chair, abandoning her Jasmine tea completely. Everyone watched as she looked her way towards the window and looked out to the Autumn night.

“If we are to do this, I will need some supplies. Moominmamma, I hope you don’t mind if I go through your kitchen, do you? I will need some vital ingredients.” She said, limping carefully into the kitchen, not even bothering to wait for any response from the mother.

“Wake up lazy bones!”

Joxter was suddenly jostled awake. He was a little surprised as he didn’t even realise he dozed off. Under normal circumstances, he would do in voluntarily almost all the time. However, this night was far from normal. Since the very start of the seance, he has been frustrated, scared and stressed out. All of these emotions have been taking their toll on him it seems. He didn’t realise this until Madame Portia started to prepare for the exorcism or spirit banishment spell or whatever it was called. Everyone had moved outside, where, according to Madame Portia, the ritual would be safer to perform. About 5ft from the big, blue house, Madame Portia was seen dragging her walking stick in the ground, making some kind of shape in the dirt. Moominpappa was following her. He held a bucket in his paws, carefully pouring a milky white liquid into the lines that Madame Portia was making. Moominmamma stood out of the way with a few more buckets that were filled with the same concoction that the medium had made. Only Moomin, Little My and Joxter were sitting on the veranda, watching the scene before them. Snufkin remained to be restrained in the drawing room, with the front door shut.

“Sorry.” Joxter muttered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He was sitting on the banister with his back to the post to keep his balance on it. Moomin was sitting at the table and Little My was standing on the banister next to the tired father.

“Eh, whatever. This night’s been tough on all of us.” Little My shrugged not even bothering to complain about Joxter’s old habits.

“You can go to sleep if you want.” Joxter offered.

“No way I’m sleeping until we get Snufkin back.” Little My huffed, crossing her arms. Moomin glanced up at the two. He noticed whole all night they hadn’t been at each other’s throats at all. He didn’t know if it was because of Snufkin being a prisoner in his own mind and his family members becoming determined to save him or something else. He knew that it was more due to Snufkin being in this much danger.

“Wow! For once, you two aren’t fighting. Snufkin will be very happy to hear about this.” Moomin said with a slight grin. The small girl and the father looked at him.

“What do you mean?” Joxter asked, tilting his head like a curious cat.

“All that Snufkin wanted was for you two to stop fighting and to get along. He knew that deep down you both had something in common. And it looks like, I’ve found out what that is.” Moomin explained, his friend widening a little, feeling a little smug.

“Oh yeah! And what’s that?” Little My shouted, hands on her hips. Joxter stayed silent and waited for Moomin to continue his explanation.

“Snufkin. You both want to be there for him, as a family should be towards one another. Especially with what’s been going on tonight. In fact, since he was possessed, you two hadn’t so much as have a shouting match between you.” Moomin smiled. The two looked at each other as he said this. He was right, and they knew that. Moomin kept smiling at the two, knowing that if Snufkin was here, he would be so proud at how far his family had come this night. He was snapped out of it when he heard his mother calling for him. He noticed that she was holding a bucket, whilst gesturing to another next to her, signalling him to come over to help out for the time being. Without waiting for a split second, he ran off of the veranda to help with his mother.

Joxter watched the boy go for a second, before he looked down at Little My. She was now sitting on the banister, swinging her legs to and fro in the air. She was focused on the flower bed that was below her, trying to make it seem like it was more interesting then what was going on. She had a conflicted look on her face and Joxter could understand why. For a very long time, she believed that her father never cared for her or her family. To suddenly hear what had truly happened to him must have shaken her badly.

“Listen, Little My, about your father. I-“ Joxter tried to say. He didn’t want to feel like he was saying any excuses as to why he had kept this dark family secret for so long, but in a way, he felt like it still weighed heavily on his shoulders after he had told the family everything.

“Save it. You don’t need to apologise. I know the truth now. I just wish that I wasn’t lied to about it.” The small girl interrupted, looking up over at what the Moomins and the medium were doing.

“Well, I’m apologising anyway. It was wrong and I knew it. If there was one thing I could do over, it would be to tell you what had happened.” Joxter said sternly.

“I get it. But I’m glad you’ve told me now. If you really are that sorry, stop feeling sorry for yourself and help get my brother back.” Little My sighed a little, looking right up at the man next to her.

“Deal.” Joxter winked. Both girl and father watched the scene beyond the preparation. The night continued its course, not caring of what had happened in the house and what was going on now. Whether it was later on in the evening, or the presence of the spirit, the night had even gotten even colder. Every breath that was let out became nothing more than mist that faded into the night. The moon was larger and was at its highest point in the sky, bathing the valley in a ghostly (A/N no pun intended) white glow. Foxes prowled the night, stalking their potential prey and owls sat content upon their perches in the trees. Crickets played their endless medley of tunes. The breeze that swept through the valley was bitter and frozen, blanketing the valley, warning it that winter was approaching even faster now. It was an almost dramatic change from what the summer was. The long days had been traded for longer nights and the warm temperature had become cold.

“Did my father love me? Love my mother and my siblings?” Little My suddenly asked, looking absentmindedly up at the stars.

“Well, he wasn’t going to give up on your family without a fight. So, yes, I believe he did. And listen, I bet, right now as of this moment, he’s standing right next to you, cheering you on.” Joxter smiled, warming Little My right up. “I think he’s very proud of you.” Little My turned to look over her shoulder, as if she was looking right up at the spirit of her father. Joxter had no doubt that the girl’s father was right where she was looking, giving her all that he can.

“Thank you, Joxter. I mean it.” The girl smiled, looking up at Joxter. Joxter widened his smile a little before it fell. He wondered back to what Moomin had said a few minutes ago about Snufkin. The vagabond would be happy to see that his family had finally stopped their conflict just to help him. To Joxter, Snufkin was what was trying to hold the family together, despite his father and half sister fighting on a regular basis. He didn’t give up on them. That’s what, in a way, made it all the more sad as Snufkin wasn’t here to see his family agreeing with each other and it added to the determination that he had to end this 14 year old nightmare once and for all. All of these efforts have gone too far for both of these families to give up now.

“Joxter!” Moominpappa called out as he ran to the veranda. Joxter jumped down from the banister, Little My watching both fathers with every move they had made. “Madame Portia is almost ready. She said we need to start bringing Snufkin outside and into the circle now!”

“Right.” Joxter nodded. He looked over at the small girl. “Go over to the others and wait for us. We’ll be over soon.” Little My nodded. As the men entered the house, she jumped down and ran towards the shape that was made into the ground. It was a large circle that was large enough to fit at least 10 people inside it. A star was etched inside it. The shape was seen as clear as day by the white potion, smelling faintly of a mixture of spices and a hint of Moominpappa and Joxter’s tobacco. The liquid faintly reflected the light of the moon, making it gleam a little. Madame Portia sat on the ground, cross legged. Her skirt pooled around her, making her sit in an almost perfect circle. Like before, she had her hands clasped together, muttering what sounded like a spell. The wind that breathed past the group became more bitter than it had been before, causing the family to shiver.

Moomin’s ears pricked up at the sound of movement behind him. He looked to see the fathers dragging Snufkin towards the circle. The traveller, though he was still bound, was out of the chair and was digging his feet into the ground, as if the spirit that possessed him knew what was happening. He was still blindfolded and gagged and continued to let out these awful animalistic growls, throwing his upper body this way and that to get away from the men that were holding him. Grass was uprooted from under his feet as some of the dirt was kicked into the air. His struggling had increased even more. Both fathers roughly yanked, hoping that the boy wouldn’t be hurt too badly from their handling of him. Madame Portia suddenly threw her hands out to the circle, scattering small bones, beads and tiny crystals into it. She looked up at the fathers and nodded, not saying a word. Joxter grasped Snufkin tightly by the shoulders, holding him as still as possible. Moominpappa reached for the knot starting to slowly loosen it. Both fathers looked at each other for a brief second. They then nodded and worked together in a split second. Just as Moominpappa loosened the knot completely, Joxter shoved his son into the circle, causing the boy to fall in the centre. Snufkin immediately untangled himself from the rope and ripped off the scarfs that took his sight and his ability to speak. He turned to glare at the family, but his ruby red eyes widened as the medium opened her eyes and they were completely pearl white. He looked around and instantly knew why he was thrown into the circle. He got to his feet and tried to rush at the family. Just as he stepped forward a wall of white light emerged from where the circle was drawn. Snufkin bounced right off of it, proving how much strength he had put into his strides. Madame Portia continued to mutter her spell, a breeze that only came from the inside of the circle was blowing all around the possessed boy.

“No! No! I refuse to leave! I-NNNNNNOOOOOO!” Snufkin yelled before he started to scream, seemingly sounding like he was in pain. He clutched his head as he fell to his knees. He held his head so tight, that it looked like he was ready to rip his own hair out of his scalp. It took all of Joxter’s willpower to not try to comfort him, for he knew the risks if he tried to step inside the circle.

“Get-get-GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Snufkin screamed at the top of his lungs, his eyes wide. Everyone felt a little relief as they finally saw the familiar chocolate brown eyes that Snufkin had, with a small trickle of a tear threatening to trail down his face. Without warning he went silent before he fell forwards, unconscious. The spirit was banished from his body. Finally, everyone could see what he looked like. It was definitely in the form of a boy that looked to be around Snufkin’s age. He had long, grizzly bear brown hair that was tied back in a ponytail. His skin was as white as a sheet and his eyes remained to be blood red. His clothes looked brand new, but they were roughed up and torn in most places. They also looked damp, evident to the fact that the boy had fallen into the sea after he fell off the cliff when he died. The boy had a hard angered face that was battered on the left side along with his left arms and shoulder, showing that he must have hit his side at some point during his plummet to the sea.

“No! NO! IF I’M LEAVING, I AM TAKING THIS MUTT WITH ME!” The spirit yelled. Then, the unthinkable happened. The spirit reached down and grabbed something at the back of Snufkin’s neck. Moomin watched in utter horror as the sprit yanked upwards, dragging Snufkin’s own spirit out of his body.

Use these links to catch up with the story if you don’t know what’s going on:

Chapter 1: HERE

Chapter 2: HERE

Chapter 3: HERE

Chapter 4: HERE

Chapter 5: HERE

Chapter 6: HERE

Chapter 8: HERE