#like if you cant get fresh-farmed dreams storebought is fine

[thesundowncrew]

While spirits normally phased through solid walls and objects, Samhain was able grab hold of her as if she were flesh. He gave her hand a little squeeze to stop her mind spiraling into panic, anchoring her once more. "Ah know, little miss. Ah know," he nodded. "You'll see them soon, ah promise." His warm smile and gaze made her feel like he really did understand her plight, her worries and doubts. That that they would all be over soon. That she had really come to the end of her long, arduous journey and that she could finally rest her weary feet.

He stepped closer to her, now holding both her hands in his. It was strange but he smelled... familiar.

Specific scents that reminded her of autumns back home, back in her mother's arms. Back before all the nonsense and the inn and the nightmarish stage. She took a deep breath of nostalgia and felt calmer for it. If she were to cry now, it would have been from the relief and the weight she could feel lifting from her shoulders and from the cavern in her chest.

And then, just before she lost herself again, he spoke. "All you 'ave to do.. is close yer eyes.. an' think of home. And go in peace."

There was little difference between a prayer and a spell. After he said the magic words, it was as if the spirit knew exactly what she had to do, in her heart of hearts. She nodded and did as she was told.

She closed her eyes. "..M-mother—?"

In a matter of moments, the dancer's figure dispersed into a collection of little lights - reminiscent of fireflies bursting out of the tall grass on summer evenings. The lights enveloped Samhain as if being carried by a breeze despite there being no draft. The lights then danced over to Maude -- the tiny orbs tickled the skin and were warm to the touch, like dapples of sunlight -- circling her as well before passing through the window by the bed.

As heart-warming as the spectacle was, many questions remained. Samhain was at least relieved by the fact they could still save the trapped spirits from their 'trinket' form, but there were still some things he couldn't understand; at least not in a way that made sense to them.

Yes, it was a creature that hungered for dreams. Even human beings got hungry and they needed to eat, to sustain themselves to survive. "But why keep the bodies here? Why can't it eat dreams after they're detached from the sleepers?" Samhain mumbled, one gloved hand holding his chin in deep thought.

As instructed, the innkeeper braced herself. She sat still and silent on the bed, worried even the slightest movement or sound could disrupt the unspoken spells Samhain summoned. She sensed the magic gradually gathering in the room and centering on the boy. A current of energy rippled through her.

The music box floated before him in a sphere of soft light. Maude watched in wonder, her pulse racing in her ears. The magic thrummed and thrummed, and the box cracked again and again and again until it finally BROKE. Silence followed. Maude held her breath in anticipation, unable to look away.

And… the spirit slowly appeared. Faint like a nearly-forgotten memory, wavering at the edges like a weak candle flame, yet undeniably there. A ballet dancer. Tears still stained her face. The lamplight flickered through the spiderweb of cracks across her form.

Maude’s breath left her all at once. Her chest ached at how young the ghost looked. A muffled thump came from inside Feld’s bubble — quiet but sudden enough to make Maude flinch. Scowling at the dreadful thing, she stifled the urge to set it aflame and yanked the blanket on the bed over it instead. There. Now it couldn’t ruin the moment.

The spirit stared at Samhain in dazed confusion, her hold on his hand feather-light, her voice barely above a whisper. “Who…?” At first, it looked like she didn’t recognize him. Then, as her free hand clutched the quilt on her shoulders, a moment of clarity struck her — a fuzzy fragment of memory — and her glassy eyes widened. “Oh! It’s you…” The quilt… this boy had given it to her, hadn’t he? He had found her on that dusty stage and spoken to her… truly spoken to her. Her wispy fingers grasped his hand with more trust and certainty. “I thought I’d dreamt you…”

How had she gotten here, though? What had happened to the stage, the music, the shades of other dancers? Was this… the inn? It looked familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. It felt more solid, less hazy and unreal, but she had learned to doubt her senses. Perhaps this was another illusion.

Her gaze drifted around the bedroom, lingering on Maude for a heartbeat before returning to Samhain, as though only he truly existed. Cold nothingness tugged at the frayed threads of her existence. His gentle voice soothed her and his steady presence anchored her. It kept the spirit from losing herself.

“Go?” she echoed softly. Escaping the faded stage brought relief, but confusion and worry crept over her now. She shook her head, fumbling for shaky words through the fog that filled her mind. “Please, I… I’ve been gone too long… I’ve got to get home. My family, they don’t… I need to tell them I’m okay.”