Ankyra Sound so don't worry, i'm coming home.

@Astera

for time immeasurable, there was nothing but dark.

something pulled at her from beyond the black veil.

awake in a sense, caiaphas woke to the familiar sounds of the grotto. the trickling of water over stones a millennia old. the soft sigh of the sea, in and out.

and somewhere, the low thrum of a soul intruding her eternal place of rest.

She washed up on the Ankyra shoreline. As she stood, the sand beneath her swirled and twisted. Astera stumbled and fell once more. She spluttered, coughing angry garnet onto the sand.

The pale girl dragged herself into the grotto. The drum beat of dripping water, and the echoes of ocean roar were the only sounds heard. But there was something else...

a child.

oh, caiaphas had always wanted for children. while she'd had some of her own, and loved them fiercely, few had loved her in return.

the spectre's bared teeth withdrew as astera passed through the threshold of the outer world -- into the realm of the grotto, where spirits such as caiaphas could not depart, for something greater than the sum of her parts anchored her here.

it took considerable effort to direct the shimmering of her scarcely-corporeal body towards the girl. there was a softness to the wraith in death that had not existed in life; she reached for astera's alabaster pelt and slipped through her. but her voice she still held, and it was this she projected over the dampstone, coming to rest in some vague area between two columns of sea-weathered flowstone.

what is your name, girl?

Her vison blurred, she peered into the darkness. Lilac eyes picked up an ethereal amber glow.

Miette? No. It wasn't her. These eyes weren't a childish dandelion, but an overwhelming turmeric. A translucent from emerged from the depths of the grotto. 

ghosts aren't real, ghosts aren't real, ghosts aren't real

She firmly shut her eyes, but opened them once the figure spoke. She peeped out a timid reply to her question. Astera.

being dead -- and being aware she was dead -- caiaphas wondered how much of the mortal world she could influence, and just what ungovernable power had pulled her from extinction.

was she here for a reason?

the girl's frightened lilac gaze climbed its way upwards to somewhere where caiaphas felt her essence must be. the siren settled along the cold walls of the cavern, the animus of her being seeming to seep into the very stones that housed them.

welcome to the grotto, astera. i am caiaphas. why are you here?.

Caiaphas? Had she heard that name before? Astera had been to the grotto before, but there was no spirit. At least, she hadn't seen one. How much of her purpose here would she reveal?

As the youngling tried to speak again, her small frame was shaken by yet another cough. She is able to utter out a few words, with some difficulty. I was swimming, and the waves took me farther and farther away from the cliffs. The sea left me here.

Astera gathered her courage, voicing the bold, possibly rude question she had in mind. Are you a ghost?

the sea had given the siren queen one last gift.

in death, caiaphas still retained that funny sense of irony. her spirit thrummed; a vestigial smile, if you will.

another spate of coughing. caiaphas sensed her cognizance drifting.

are you a ghost?

what other name would she have?

there was a long pause. she, who had only ever been living, had finally died. and a long time ago at that, judging by the undisturbed crypt that housed her rotted bones.

yes.

Could she be added back to Sapphique, please? I was applying for loner, and I forgot to switch accounts.

There was a ghost in the grotto. Everything was fine.

There was a moment of silence, as Astera simply didn't know what to say next. She simply found it difficult to have a conversation with a deceased entity. Finally, she decided on a question. What're you doing here, on the sound, in the grotto?

Had there really been a spirit here all along? Had Val been right about the loa from the cave?

silence filled the stony halls of caiaphas the ghost's graveyard. an interval of time passed where caiaphas didn't know whether she was here or not; she saw only the girl, her brow drawn in concentration.

what am i doing here? her voice sounded far away and ethereal. what are you doing here? this is where i died -- where i belong.

if she could move in closer, she would. instead, she settled for being like the softly dappled dust motes -- drifting along strands of ethereal blue light. the sea brought you here, yes -- but why? maybe the sea has its own purpose. it did in my lifetime.

Purpose. 

Purpose...

Did she even have one? She hadn't died, so why was she here, besides the obvious. She settled on an apprehensive answer, the best she could think of.

I was born here. These cliffs, this shore, those trees...

a child of ankyra?

though she possessed little of her corporeal body, something in the wrath stirred for the pale waif.

are you of rusalka? are you a daughter of my daughter?

her gaze rested upon astera in hope. nearby, the steady plop of water on flowstone.

Rusalka?

Her voice echoed in the grotto. Astera shook her head, looking up at the spirit. My birth mother was a lone wolf. What else could she remember? ...silver fur... ice blue eyes...

Suddenly a thought hit her. Rusalka was not a who, but a pack. One she had never heard of. 

How long have you been dead for?

astera's voice reverberated down the subterranean tunnels. her mother did not match raleska's description; caiaphas' hope withered into the dusty cave floor.

how long had she been dead?

when she'd first been pulled from the veil, she'd noticed the settling of moss on her ancestral home. a film of dust layered every object -- and while she knew her bones swirled somewhere in the ceremonial pool, its banks showed no recent trespass.

a long time. likely well before you or your mother were born. is there still a pack here, in ankyra? what of drageda, and my daughter, raleska? erzulie? do you know them?

A long time. Astera had supposed so. She felt a responsibility to explain what the ghost had missed.

No. There isn't a pack in the sound. But my pack, Sapphique lives on the cliffs nearby.

She shook her head sadly at the spirit's disappointment. Raleska? The pale girl searched in the back of her memory for anything, even a few words from the adults. Nothing. 

I don't know any Raleska, I'm sorry.

Erzulie though, she did know. One of the founders of the pack, grandmother of Sapphique, alongside Rosalyn.

Oh! You mean Erzulie Dahomey-Rivaini? Rosalyn? Like, most of the pack is related to them.

She lowered her gaze sadly. They both died this year...

these words were as foreign to caiaphas as her own names were foreign to astera -- but rosalyn! erzulie! her eyes lit up in hope.

she felt herself pull closer to the child. their souls, like her own, had gone to the end of the clearing; a bitter satisfaction fluttered through the old crone.

but that was not important. not anymore.

caiaphas leaned forward, an unsettled quiet in her voice. i want you to have this. her form shimmered over a slim stone of jade, which had once been her summoning knife in a life long ago.

and i have something to show you. follow me.

caiaphas began to float towards the ceremonial chamber.

Erzuile died after a terrible bear attack, early this year. I never met her.

And she likely never would.

Rosalyn passed not long after. Old age or heartbreak. Maybe both?

She hated being the bearer of bad news, and looked at the ghost in sadness.

I'm sorry.

last from me on this one <3

a bear and heartbreak. caiaphas supposed those ends were far nobler than her own.

it is no matter. she thrust the jadestone dagger in astera's paws, feeling her soul press through a sieve as she did so. soon, she would be dissolute again.

follow me.

caiaphas's aura began to flicker as she lead astera deeper into the grotto.

She seemed unbothered. It wasn't any matter for Astera either, who was yet to develop much of an understanding of grief.

Why was Caiaphas flickering?

Astera kept up as she led her down the tunnel. What was here to show?