There is a place beyond the physical world where time and space don’t matter. There are no days or objects, just thousands upon thousands of souls swirling endlessly. Sometimes they sense life and movement through a rift between worlds; funny little mortals doing funny mortal things. Periodically, a spirit might be drawn from there into a solid state by some mage with ideas. These ideas are usually bad.

One spirit trades places with another and tumbles through the void, into a body, into a dim room with a circle of runes laid out on the floor. The spirit sees for the first time, flickering candle flames and a mage staring from across the room. No, not a mage, not a real one anyway. The mortal is pressed against the back wall, clutching a book, with quick breathing and eyes darting to the door. The floor is smooth and cool, the air smells of burning wax and incense. Each hand can feel the other when pressed together, and that’s amazing! Physical senses are fascinating. The spirit laughs, then claps a hand over the mouth, surprised by the noise.

‘Um’, the pretend mage shuffles forward, glancing between book and spirit, ‘you’re not Tulshi-Amnakh The Liar.’

‘No.’ There’s a sound outside, a pitter-patter on the windows.

‘Well, who are you then?’

‘I don’t have a name, I’ve never been summoned before.’ The pretend mage clearly doesn’t know what to do with this information and looks about helplessly ‘You could name me,’ the spirit suggests. Names don’t really matter, but mortals seem to love them.

‘Uh...I...alright? How about,’ there’s quiet for a few moments, ‘Beam?’

The spirit nods, ‘fine. Why?’

‘It’s just that you’re very, ah, bright. As in, searing my eyes. I mean, there’s a picture of Tulshi-Amnakh in here,’ the pretend mage holds open the book. Inside is a detailed drawing with annotations sticking out of it. ‘She’s supposed to be dark blood red with enormous claws and teeth and such. You’re sort of the opposite of what I was aiming for, no offense.’

Beam laughs again, anything a mortal has ever written about spirits has been hilariously wrong. With light, slightly hesitant steps, the spirit moves out of the summoning circle.

‘N-no, no, you’re not supposed to be able to do that!' The mortal panics. Beam doesn’t care, Beam wanders over to the curtains and starts stroking them curiously.

‘I’ve never had a body before.’ These are thick velvet curtains with gold rope trim. ‘I wanted one. I saw an opportunity, so I’m here now.’ There’s a well worn chair, it doesn’t feel as nice as the curtains and it smells slightly off-putting. The couch looks different, less damage, smells better. ‘I wanted to know what being alive feels like.’ The pretend mage's face radiates regret. Beam perches on the couch and tries a few test bounces. Soft. ‘I think I’m supposed to sleep. I’ll do it here. Is sleeping hard?’

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Matthias

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