People see what makes sense to them, reality notwithstanding. She knew that fair well; that she saw the wraiths that lurked in all’s shadows, did not mean they could.

A person’s dead floated beside them – the more death, the bigger the crowd pressing in. She was still amazed that all could fit within a room or a market square. So many bodies, these must squeeze themselves thin, she thought.

For the longest time, they paid her no mind. Too busy in misery to notice a small girl with mismatched eyes. They swirled around her, only lightly brushing her skin and mind.

She never met any with similar sight; not that a person would speak of it! Would get you to faster to the burning or the asylum than twitching!

Thus, she made her way in the world; learning herb craft so she might dim her own visions. For once the dead started soliciting her advice and intervention, she need find silence and solitude.

She did journey to Sanctuary and lived there a time with the community of women. But even here, the dead howled and pleaded.

So it was she sought the runic; those of the eld race who yet remained. Byhaps they possessed a powder, an enchantment, a tonic that might relieve her of this burden.

But all she did find was their mirror, fragmented and spread. Each shard reflected a different one of her. It was then she decided thus: if the dead would not be quiet to her, then she must be their voice.

featured image: Ghost Woman by AleG on DeviantArt

scrawled/scrawling for mlmm first line friday: people see what makes sense to them, reality notwithstanding