Mirable Dictu

“Yes, supposed to be. That would be the key phrase.”

Jeremy stopped with his hand on the doorknob. The creaking room seemed to get about ten degrees cooler.

“How…?” Jeremy asked, his voice trailing off. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer or not. But he shook his head and quickly made up his mind. No, he wanted to know. He would always want to know.

“The Lady of Grey knows lots of things,” said Erika innocently enough. After all, she was fairly young still. “I think she knows everything.” Her voice was filled had a hint of admiration in it.

Jeremy just looked at the Lady, or, he supposed, her full title according to Erika was the Lady of Grey. She gave off a faint, almost eerie teal aura.

“Then what happened to me? If you know, that is,” Jeremy finally asked.

“I told you, Jeremy, there’s a difference between forgetting and not wanting to remember,” she stated slyly.

“And I want to remember.”

“Then do it.”

Jeremy sighed and let his hand fall from the doorknob. He closed his eyes, trying to remember. Images flashed around in his mind, and he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. He tried harder to remember. There seemed to be a block, like he (or something else) was repressing the memory.

Finally, the seemingly random images started to form some kind of coherent story. He saw himself by a river, a dark, churning river. Then he lost the picture, and the next image was his body floating in the river, his head gashed open and his blood joining with the icy waters.

“I think… I died…”

The next image was drastically different. White now surrounded him, and then before him stood the Lady of Grey, but she was dressed in long, silky grey robes. She was reaching out a hand to him.

“And then you saved me…”

He grasped her hand, and then the next image was his body being pulled from the river by some strangers and him waking up, freezing.

Had she saved him from death?

“Why? Did you bring me back to life?”

The Lady had a smile plastered on her lips, yet it was a bittersweet one. “I did, Jeremy. We needed you. I needed you. Or at least, someone like you.”

“Like me?”

Jeremy looked at Erika, who shrugged. She didn’t have any clue either, and was more focused on the Lady than on Jeremy anyways.

“When I saw your spirit, I knew your potential immediately. You were just what we had been seeking.”

“And what was that?” Jeremy was getting a little irritated by all this I-want-to-build-the-suspense talk.

“Jeremy, your soul was perfect. I brought you back to life, but gave you the ability to see auras and ghosts like Erika.”

Jeremy was confused and a little skeptical. “Alright, but why was I given this ability? Why did I have to come back to life?”

“There has been conflict between my kind and the Shadows. The Shadows have been tampering with the spirits, making it impossible for souls who have parted from their bodies to pass over to the next life. I only had enough power to break through and save one soul, and yours was the one I found. Fate was on my side.”

“So… wait, what? How do dead people have anything to do with my aura seeing?”

“You can see these ghosts, Jeremy. You need to help them pass over.”

“You can’t do that yourself?”

“I used the last of my remaining power to give you this gift. The Shadows have gotten very strong as of late.”

“And you expect me to defeat the Shadows so people like Erika can pass over?” Jeremy asked. It would have been nice if he had been asked rather than told.

“Hundreds of souls are counting on you,” the Lady of Grey said mysteriously. Her aura began to fade from the room.

“Wait, how did you get here? How am I supposed to do this?” Jeremy asked, but his questions were asked to a near-empty room. The Lady of Grey had left, and now Jeremy was all alone. Well, alone except for Erika the mysterious ghost.

“Great… just great.”