Not everyone has left Teresa behind. One talkative, friendly girl — just ignore the people in town who claim to know her and call her a "fine young man" — still visits Teresa every day. It's not always a long visit, but Bria refuses to let the girl who died defending her community, who personally saved her at least once, who was her inspiration, whom she had a crush on for a little while, be forgotten and alone.

So every day, after her chores, after she's helped out with the family business, after she escapes the people who think they know her, Bria walks out to a pretty hill that overlooks the sea, a little picnic meal with her, and spends time with Teresa.

"The sea is beautiful today, Teresa," she says with a soft sigh, after swallowing a bite of bread and cheese. "What's the prettiest place you saw in your travels?"

"Good evening, Bria! Oh... Here," she answers quickly. "Or... No. So many places are beautiful, in their own ways. Here may be home, but it's hardly what you want to hear about. I think... The odd shrines of Kyoto, perhaps. There's a solemnity there that matches the Vatican. Or the Nordic mountains. It's so cold and bright, desolate but pure..."

"Oh, those all sound so lovely. I want to see them all, some day. I do love our beautiful seaside hills, but there's so much loveliness to be seen. There's so much in the world — so many people, so many places, so much beauty — and I've seen so little of it yet. I want to see more. Hearing you tell of the world beyond Sicilia is marvelous, Teresa."

Bria sighs happily and sips her drink. "How tall were the mountains? Were they snowy? Rocky? Forested? Did you meet anyone there? What brought you there?"

"Oh, snow as far as I could see! They weren't the tallest but they had many valleys and even tunnels. I was like you. I wanted to see it all. I wandered at whim; I hardly had to worry about exposure or danger, by then. And then I had my fill, more or less, so I came home. The world is so very, very big. You can't see everything. There was a glacier spirit who I think had slept for eons... It didn't speak in words, but it felt simply enormous. Beyond even the Chinese immortals."

"Wow. Wooow. What do spirits feel like?"

She takes another bite of cheese, and follows it with some more of her (mild, homemade) wine.

"They're often different. Some have learned Italiam or another language. Some speak with emotions or even only by implication - with breezes or the actions of animals you have to interpret like a wave or glare."

"Oh that sounds so fascinating. So many strange and marvelous kinds of people the world contains, to think that there are some that converse through such disparate means. Did you usually have a reason to meet a spirit, or did you just happen to stumble across them as you went?"

"It's respectful to greet one if you're in its area, especially if you're going to linger. Some are not interested, and that's fine. Perhaps you can go to university, in Rome. Or even France, or America."

"That makes sense, as a gesture of respect. It's like they are the territory you're visiting, so it's only reasonable to say 'hello', right?"

She flops on her back at the mention of university. "Studying outside Sicilia would be lovely. Maybe someday. I don't have a way off the island, though, and either way I'm not leaving you alone here."

"I do admit that magic is rather freeing. I could just... Go." Sigh. "But there's only so much magic, and more than enough trouble to go around."

"You fought so much of the trouble, too." She props herself up on her elbows and gazes at Teresa. "You kept our towns safe from so many monsters, for so long."

"I did. It was - the thing to do. Because I could. Because I should. It's the duty of spirit bearers, after all. For all the fancy new weapons people are developing, they're far too unwieldy for monsters still."

It's not fair that Teresa fell. Not at all.

<If this world was fair, I would be holding you, and maybe we four could restore her together>, comes the steady reply in her mind. <At the very least, we could cover more of her time between us.>

Yeah. Maya's right, she thinks.

"It's wrong, that there is so much death and loss in the world. It's right that spirit bearers try to stop it, that someone  can pick up that job if it's going to be here to be done, but the world shouldn't be like this. There should be more joy and less grief."

"There is plenty of joy! Of family, of good food and good weather. And Heaven awaits, at the end. There will be... Rest."

"At least there's that, the hope of Heaven to get people through, to help people cope with the deaths in this world, but the joys are outweighed by soldiers being brought back again and again by healers only to suffer and fall once more." She pulls a clipped out newspaper article from her pocket and unfolds it. "There's so much joy to be had, but people keep finding reasons to fight instead. So much room for love, but instead they choose hate."

"Oh dear. I hadn't heard of that. Ever since Napoleon... We have only fought monsters. It is worrying. But you must find the good. Do what you can, help people - including yourself."

She sighs and nods. "Yep. That's what it takes. Always try to foster as much brightness as possible, both to savor and to spread. Make the world richer, everywhere we can. More love. More life. More hope. More joy."

But she's smiling, by the end of it.

"Enough of that gloomy topic. Let me tell you about Florida..."

Many days pass like this, as many have passed before. Maybe it's a sad thing, that Bria's best friend — aside from the girlfriends in her head — is a ghost, but she certainly seems to enjoy it.

There have been worrying tidings in the interim. The Romanians have completed a new cruiser, more heavily armed than anything outside of Great Britain. It's quite the impressive ship, but ominous. The Ottomans, in a desperate attempt to hold off the increasing pressures against them, are laying naval mines in the strait. Rumor has it that a scandalous Greek spirit bearer who calls herself Aphrodite is doing scouting as a mercenary — a dangerous escalation, if true.

Despite all this, it is yet another beautiful day in Sicily, the Mediterranean lapping gently at the shores of the island, and Bria strolls peacefully up the hill carrying some bread, salami, cheese, and cannoli for her meal, along with her usual very light wine. (Nearly everyone drinks wine in Sicily, though it is not very alcoholic at all.)

"Good afternoon, Teresa," she calls as she approaches.

"Good afternoon.

...You know I can't stay forever, Bria."

She smiles bittersweetly, nodding. "No, you can't. But I can make the most of the time you have left, and stretch it as far as I can, and hope to see a genie before you unravel. And if a genie doesn't turn up in time, then I know I tried, and I know that your stories will be remembered."

She sighs. "I wish I'd dared to speak to you when you were alive."

"If you do find a genie, there are better uses for a wish than me. Heal someone, or a hundred people. I. I'm going to Heaven soon. I'm scared, but... I did what I wanted. I was happy. That's enough."

Her eyes water a bit. "You saved more people than I even know injured folk to heal. But. I don't have a lot of faith in a genie turning up at the last minute either way."

<I think we all know you're doing this to make up for the time you didn't have the nerve to spend earlier>, comes the soft reply in her mind.

Yes, well, maybe she is. But she was just some nobody. How could she have talked to a noble and pretty spirit bearer, how could she have taken up Teresa's time when she was alive?

A sad sigh slips out of Bria's lips. "I don't really know how to properly describe how much I'll miss you, when the unraveling catches up and you can't keep going. You were always part of what made this place home, for me, even if I only knew you from afar when you were alive."

"It was wonderful, wasn't it? Peaceful, for you at least, and bucolic. It was peaceful for me as well, eventually, it was all routine. I... Suppose I got complacent." Sigh.

"It fits what I remember, at least. I hope, if I ever get enkindled, that I don't let myself get complacent."

<We wouldn't let you.>

She shakes her head with a sad smile. "Did you ever find love?"

"Oh. That's not for me. I only have friends. Anything else just seemed pointless. I might have liked to try it anyway, so I could have a baby to love, but it is very rare for spirit bearers to have children."

Bria nods, then giggles ruefully, "Oh, children certainly aren't for me. I could teach them, perhaps, but I'm not cut out to raise them, not even if I get magicked into the right body."

And then she lets out a wistful sigh. "I had the biggest crush on you, though. Nothing could come of it, of course. What would you have said to a young girl in the wrong body?" She shakes her head.

"...I don't know. Probably that it was not meant to be."

She nods slowly, a sad smile on her face. "You turned everyone down, didn't you? I know I saw some of the elder sons of the Familia giving you flowers, and I think I remember seeing a very pretty girl do the same at least once."

"Like I said, anything else just seemed pointless. Men, women... I just don't understand. Like if you told me that standing on one foot was the most exciting thing ever, and invented elaborate rules about when it's appropriate, and with whom, and what kinds of standing and where..."

Bria laugh. "Oh what an image! It's quite the evocative analogy, too. It's maybe a little like how I can't understand the appeal of boys — either dating one or being one — despite all the shoulds that the thrown around."

She laughs. "I did actually try that sort of thing once. It was, as predicted, boring. My 'partner' was quite petulant about it, but I explained ahead of time so it's her own fault."

She nods, giggling. "If you're not into it, there's no helping that, and it was silly of her to have an expectation that she could change your mind. You were here for all of us, not for romance and such. Oh well!"

She hums thoughtfully. "Do you have any regrets? Anything you wish you could change, or anyone you wish you could give a last message to?"

"......I cannot think of any."

Bria gives Teresa a lopsided smile. "Then you probably did pretty well, all things considered. At least there's that, right?"

"Mm..."

She has that vacant look again. The one that comes more and more often.

Damn it. She knew this would happen, but... Bring her back, c'mon.

Bria smiles warmly, none of her fray showing on her face. "So, back in the village, Lina — you remember her, Paulo's daughter? — is engaged to Alberto, the dashing young man who just came back from law school on the mainland on the Familia's scholarship. They finally set a date, in early October. Oh, and Eliseo's latest toy soldier came in from Belgium. Yeah, he's still on that kick. This new one has such an elegant little coat, too."

The trick, when dealing with these vacant spells, is to give her something easy and comfortable to draw her back. So Bria keeps up a steady stream of updates on village gossip, bright and cheerful, but carefully attentive to Teresa's state.

"-Oh, Eliseo. How many such things does one man need? I suppose if it's what he enjoys, so be it, but I imagine his wife is still watching the accounts!"

She giggles and nods. "Oh she absolutely is. I saw Marianna giving him a suspicious look when he unboxed it. Just last week they argued about how many he was allowed to order."

"I still remember him helping out in Maruso's vineyard to earn enough to buy her a dress, as an apology. He told me 'no regrets'.

-Speaking of regrets. Bria dear. Have you ever thought about telling others how you feel? It's terribly lonely not to. I know that."

Her laughter suddenly turns shy. "Um. Yeah." She sighs hard. "I... Mama and Papa don't really see me, y'know? They focus so hard on the role I can play in the family business, the things I need to study, finding me a 'good match', and all the Normal Son of the Familia things, that I worry about how they'd react to my disrupting all of it so dramatically. And the rest of the townsfolk are all on about how I'm such a 'fine young man', and think they know me better than they do. I don't know who I could even tell."

"...Bria. You need to travel, like I did. See the world. And take skirts with you when you do. I see the pattern, I was the pattern of 'good enough', but you're too restless for that. Even if it's just up to Messina... That's a big town, a port town..."

She sighs. "If I really must, I'll make it my last request to you, you know!"

<She's right, you know,> adds Maya. <You know as well as we do that you're overdue for leaving the island.>

<They're too small for us, here, Bria,> says Erika.

Nova — Novapolitana — points out that they don't have a way off this rock, though.

"You would, wouldn't you," Bria replies aloud with a laugh. "I want to. I need a way out, though. I'm not old enough to vanish off to university yet, I don't have the money to get quarters aboard a boat, I'm not a spirit bearer, I'm just just a trapped Familia Princess that everyone calls a Prince. I could put together some travel food in a bag and run away, but I've been the Familia's charmer-in-training for a year now, and half the population of the three nearest towns would recognize me."

She sighs raggedly. "I don't know how to get out of here any sooner than sweet-talking my parents into letting me study abroad, Teresa."

"But-!"

Sigh.

"I suppose I have an estate, somewhere. If I say so, you might be able to get some money. I don't recall any of the details...

I... Might have another way to help. But I have to think about it."

Bria turns to Teresa in shock. "You—I—No, Teresa, I couldn't. You've done so much for everyone, for me, even just being my friend here is more than..."

<We've talked about the idea of you "not deserving" things, Bria,> interjects Erika.

"I'm just grateful for your friendship, seriously."

"Lucky for you, you don't get to choose whether I try to help you. I do. You just get to choose whether to accept it."

She crosses her arms and smirks, nodding happily.

Bria grins, blushing faintly. "Outmaneuvered completely. You've got me there, Teresa. Well, I'll keep working on Mama and Papa about studying abroad either way, while you consider if you want to make me some far-too-generous offer."

She sighs fondly and smiles at Teresa, then shakes her head. "Did I tell you they started me on negotiations with the local judge? They've tasked me with charming him into giving me an internship."

"Mm... Politics. I always was just aggressively oblivious at them when they started with that."

They chat quietly for a while longer, and soon Bria departs once again.

Midway through another of Bria's picnic visits, a chilling howl echoes up the slope.

"Cazzo. Teresa, did you hear that?"

Teresa whips around, and glides down the slope. "No. No! Figlio di puttana, the Demon Goatherd! Bria, you- You are in terrible danger."

The figure staring up the hill at them looks like some infernal goat, wicked horns tipped with painful-looking embers, and a sooty black coat.

"That thing haunts the hills of Sicilia tending its vile flock. That one is alone, but it's very dangerous!"

"Incazzato. Maybe I can dash past it? The cliff is too tall to jump down, and too rocky at the bottom. How fast is it, Teresa, and would it hurt you if I got away?"

She assesses the distance quickly and carefully.

"They're fast. Those things are monsters among monsters, I would be able to slay one, but two, three? And you... No. You don't even carry a spear, do you?"

The demon goat starts slowly approaching, clearly not in any particular hurry, thinking them trapped.

"I don't. Was always better with a whip or a bow."

She sighs and smiles bittersweetly at Teresa. "Well, it's been a good run. Glad I got to spend so much time with you."

"Oh Lord my God, I pray for Your protection in this time of strife. As I have protected others, so I beg you to protect my friend. Oh Lord, bring her salvation in Your mercy. Protect her from this evil. Give her the strength to stand, as I pass Your divine flame onward. Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

Bria. Take my hand. Take my magic. Trust in your spear. It knows its foe."

Bria's hand is halfway to Teresa, running on lasting trust and a lingering crush, before something occurs to her and she freezes, her expression twisting to shock and horror and guilt.

"Wait, is this the Last Gift? No, this would end you!"

"So will time! There's hardly any of me left! It's harder to remember every day. So will - so will letting you die instead of giving you a chance. I am long, long overdue to Heaven, Bria. This is your chance. I defend Sicilia. It is what I do. Forgive me for the blessing and burden I am laying on you, please..."

A tear rolls down her cheek. "Damn it all, Teresa. Why d'you have to be right about this?"

A twisted, tragic smile curls across her face as a rueful laugh escapes her lips. "You better get the good seats up there. You deserve them. I'm going to miss you so much."

She reaches out her hand to Teresa.

"I'll see you again. Next house over to Saint Peter himself..."

Their hands touch, and the world becomes a wash of sensation.

Sometimes, like now, it hurts (for more than one reason). A burning. A striving. A light brighter than any light. A sense of flying at dizzying speed. A flowing sea of potential, a tapestry of connections, a rush of never-remembered always-familiar impressions, of pushing with will and soul, of feet planted firmly and spear held steady, of desperate fury and manic thrill. The vigor of ages like lightning in the veins, a buzzing in the head declaiming how utterly foul the thing stalking up the hill is. 

Raiment spills forth.

Her raiment pours over her like a bucket of paint. It bubbles out of every pore, and in that moment Bria is reforged. Her curves fill out, her waist tightens, her hips widen, and in every respect she is the picture of femininity. Gentle brown curls spill about her face, down to her chin, capped by a wide-brimmed hat in midnight-violet set at a jaunty angle. Below that is a snug cobalt blouse under a hip-length jacket. A midnight-violet skirt flares out below that, down just past her knees. Black boots complete the ensemble.

She gazes sadly for a moment at the swiftly-unraveling wisps of her only friend in the world. "Goodbye, Teresa. I l—I'll always remember you."

And then she turns to face the monster, glaring wickedly at it, a midnight tear rolling down her cheek. A spear bubbles swiftly into existence in her hand, viciously sharp head a glossy, wet-looking black.

"You cost me the last echo of someone better than this world deserved, and far better than you deserve to face, stronzo."

It's about then that she pays any attention to the two Unexpected Primitive Actions sitting in her sense of her magic. She pokes at the edge of one, and feels something drip off her fingertips. She lifts her hand up so as not to take her eyes off her foe, and it's ink. It feels simultaneously incredibly slick and far grippier than it has any right to be.

She swings her left hand low in an underhand toss, lobbing a splatter of ink toward the monster, and slides her right hand high up her spear to coat it in ink as well.

And then she shifts into a low stance that somehow feels intuitively correct, spear held steadily forward in a two-handed grip.

The demon goat seems enraged by her sudden empowerment, giving another bleating howl and lowering its head, pawing at the ground. It points the firey horns at her, and charges startlingly quickly up the slope straight towards her- If perhaps not quite as quickly as it would go on level ground.

When it hits the patch of splattered ground it doesn't slow down, not at all, but it does perhaps get slightly less controlled. There's a buzzing noise of some sort in the background, between the rushing wind and the pounding of her heart and the thumping of the hooves, but it would be understandable if Bria was more focused on the vicious points of evil-looking horns rushing towards her.

Yeah, Bria isn't remotely paying attention to the buzzing. Instead, she's focused on the charging demon, and what she can do in these fractions of a second to make up for her relative inexperience. Can she maybe do something about the ground near her as well, after that ink toss? She focuses carefully for barely a heartbeat, then with a bit of effort pours ink out around her feet to splatter the ground she's standing on, further solidifying her own footing and hopefully weakening the beast's.

That's not to say no one is paying attention to the buzzing. Maya is listening carefully in the back of her mind, attempting to categorize it, while Nova is focusing on real-time tactical suggestions.

When the beast nears her, Bria attempts to quickly side-step to the right, hopefully dodging its charge and gouging its side with her spear.

The noise sure does sound like some sort of engine. The pitch increases a bit as it gets louder. Closer, and quickly.

The demon goat's charge ends with a vicious attempted goring, which misses her by mere inches, head turning to track her dodge. The spear hits its body with bone-shaking force, drawing a long line that pours grey smoke from its flank.

Up close, the demon goat is quite large for a goat. Five feet high, head at her eye level, a mass of corded muscle under smelly ashen fur. It continues its run, bellowing out an angry cry and starting a tight circle to come at her again.

<Bria, try the spell,> Maya interjects.

She does, and three translucent young women spill out of her body, floating slightly. Nova (short with hair split between brown and pink, a white streak on the pink side, and pink/brown heterochromia) and Erika (messy black hair and vibrant green eyes) fan out to either side, while Maya (steely-skinned with spun coalfire for hair) floats upward and looks around for the source of the engine noise.

In the meantime, Bria readies herself for thing's next charge with a suggestion from Nova, bracing herself until the last moment, when she tries to plant the butt of her spear at her feet, using it to vault out of the way while hopefully tripping the beast on the end of the spear in its path.

Does the thing seem to notice her ephemeral headmates at all? And how is she reacting and moving this fast? She couldn't have even come close to keeping up with this before.

Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. It certainly doesn't feel like she has time to carefully consider- For example, the monster is upon her again! Already! Before she managed to fully brace! Instead of the the beast being tripped, the blow impacts her spear with shattering force - and Bria can either let her spear go flying, or be sent into a disorienting spin.

Either way, the demon goat doesn't give her a moment to recover. It gores the insubstantial form of Erika on a horn without pause, tearing straight through and sending phantom pain through them all, then turns around with a hop, aiming to clobber her with its hooves. There's barely a second to react.

(The engine noise is coming from above! A long shape in the sky, a sleek wooden hull, somehow flying like a biplane, pitched down into a dive.)

"Cazzo!" Bria lets go of the spear and winces at the shared pain. <Erika!>, she cries out in mindspace.

<I'm okay. Hurts though,> she replies.

A bit relieved, Bria dives into a roll out of the demon's path as it turns to trample her, focusing on conjuring a new one as she comes out upright. Ink is stereotypically not good for living things, right? Can she coat the blade of this new spear in extra-caustic ink?

<Airship coming, minute or less. You don't need to win, just stall,> Maya calls out.

There's a moment of resistance to her magic, as if she's pushing beyond the boundaries of what would normally be possible, but with the adrenaline high, fighting for her life against a foe too strong for a total beginner, having already landed a non-trivial blow? It expands with a sense of effort, this ink making her palpably more tired but sizzling and bubbling like hot tar on the tip of her spear.

The smoke and ash the thing gives off is distracting, getting in her eyes and making her want to cough. It eyes her spear warily, bleating a hateful sound. It inhales deeply, rearing back for something-

Why does the stupid stronzo have to be so caustic? And she doesn't like the look of that preparatory wind-up. How about she lunges forward and tries to introduce it to her own flavor of toxicity with a spear stab?

In the same instant, Maya shouts down at the beast from above, "Look up here, Figlio di puttana!"

Right at the moment the stab connects, digging into its torso just below the neck with a hiss, the demon goat - explodes, is perhaps the best word for it. There's just a wave of heat and pain, knocking her back and blinding her.

All three of her headmates pop, and she's sent tumbling, still holding onto the spear. She's lying on her back now. Something is wrong with her right shoulder and knee. Her face feels like it's on fire.

The searing pain lasts for a long, long moment before it starts rapidly vanishing, shoved away elsewhere by the urgent need to get up and fight. Her vision comes back, and she sees her raiment weaving itself back together before her eyes. Her knee pops back into shape with a crunch. Her shoulder rights itself with a lance of pain up her arm. There's strain adding up in the back of her head, like cloth under more and more weight, just like Teresa once described, a cost to be paid later.

The monster, too, is staggering, pained and confused. Roaring and bleating, thrashing in rage and pain as it bleeds on the ruined ground in front of her, the smoking wound in its chest regenerating just like hers, if more slowly.

Cazzo. Ow. That hurts. Oh how that hurts. As soon as her legs feel like they'll support her she kips back to her feet. Ow, fuck, yeah that's a barely tolerable idea. How about the demon goat gets some caustic ink to the face and she scrambles backward? That sounds like fun. How does the awful stronzo like this plan?

That only gives a direction for its blind thrashing! It moves to charge her again.

Luckily, this is about when a silvery web descends from above, clinging and wrapping the thing in a bundle of ropes, making it stumble and fall to the ground.

The engine noise is thunderous, now, and the airship swooping by at speed. A sparkling ladder made of more crystal-silver ropes falls directly in front of her, holding nearly still despite the rushing wind the still-moving ship is blowing.

Bria grabs onto the ladder and starts climbing as fast as her still-healing limbs will carry her, shouting a last "Vaffanculo!" down at the demon goat as she goes.

The rope ladder seems to help her up, shortening rapidly as the airship whips by. She's jerked into motion to match the swooping ship, and after a moment is looking down at the hills and cliffs, tinged red and half-shadowed by sunset, from high above. It all looks so small as she's blown through the sky, the hill she spent so long with Teresa rapidly becoming just another fold in the landscape.

And then she's hauled onto the deck to see what is obviously raiment, shining and pristine in a naval uniform style, as a man looks over to her.

"Easy, now!" He says in Italian, glancing over from a set of controls further back. "Are you alright?!"

"I just lost my best friend when she enkindled me less than five minutes ago, all to save my life when that stronzo showed up. And then I was losing until you showed up," she replies with a frayed, manic grin. "I'm strained from healing, I have no idea what I'm doing, and I probably have a post-battle crash coming. No, I am not remotely alright."

"Well then. Well, then!"

He levels the ship out, leaps forward over the controls.

"You're still alive, aren't you?" He rests a hand on her shoulder. "I have a berth for you. Cry, sleep, rest. The dreams will not be pleasant, but all shall pass. The world will be here tomorrow."

She sighs, then smiles bittersweetly. "Yeah, you're right. At least there's that. Any chance you could explain some finer details of how spirit bearer life works, once I'm fit for human company again?"

"I'm not so much a hermit as to abandon you to ignorance, I have honor! Come, this way, before you collapse. Worry about all that tomorrow."

She follows behind him, slightly unsteady on her feet as she goes.

There's a door into the ship, and a short hallway. A whirling, glowing contraption is visible at the end with a wide walkway around it, something about it making it obviously the heart of the ship, with concentric rings of shining metal spinning and spinning around a miniature star.

Instead of the powerful arcane mechanism, he leads her to a small room. There's a bed, and an even smaller bathroom, and a few cabinets built into the ceiling, and a small fold-out writing desk built into the wall that he shoves closed.

"Go on, sleep."

The heart of the ship is fascinating, but not nearly enough to drown out the siren song of her waiting berth. She sits down heavily onto the bunk with an exhausted whufff.

"Thank you," she says after a moment, looking up at him with a tired, frayed smile.

And then the door closes. And she's alone with the girls in her head, alone in a world without Teresa, no one to impress or charm. An inky tear wells up in her eye, and then another. She curls up on her side, hugs the pillow tightly to her chest, and cries, softly at first, gradually building up to silent sobbing, as her headmates pet her in mindspace.

Eventually she exhausts herself and falls asleep, her raiment falling away with her consciousness.

Her dreams are awful.

In one, Teresa calls her a waste of magic for not being able to beat the demon.

In another, the goat tears Teresa apart while Bria is forced to helplessly watch.

She runs away from her extended family in the next, while they stalk her with some mortal spell that destroys a spirit bearer's magic.

One has her simply melt apart into ink whenever her family needs a favor, helpless to either solve their problems or escape their expectations.

Another features the goat attacking Maya, Nova, and Erika, and they don't come back when popped.

Eventually she wakes up, still miserable, but with a great deal of the fray that had built up at the back of her mind having untangled in her sleep.

She slowly puts herself back together. She knows who she is. She knows where she is. She knows Teresa sacrificed what was left of her fading unlife to bless her and protect her, igniting magic in her soul.

<Look at it this way,> Erika says. <She'd want you to live brightly, see the world, flirt with pretty girls, not get lost in missing her.>

Nova nods and strokes Bria's cheek, tracing out an illusory cross and putting it in a gift box before handing it to her.

Bria sighs and smiles. "You girls are right, as usual. She'd want me to chase every bit of joy in this world, every bit of love, and live as loud as I can. And that this blessing was her gift to me."

With a sigh of relief like breathing clear air again after leaving a polluted factory, she dons her raiment and looks down at herself more properly, taking herself in. A soft giggle escapes her. Wow, she looks great.

She twirls in place delightedly, then steps into the bathroom to briefly wash up, before finally venturing out into the ship to see what there is to see.

The whirling heart of the vessel is still there. That's the most attention-grabbing feature of this deck. There's also stairs down to a lower level, and the way back outside. From what she remembers, it's not a huge vessel - more like a fishing trawler than a passenger liner in size.

Also, there's a plate of crackers and cheese and a canteen in the room for her.

She sighs softly and stares at it for a while, savoring the beauty of the arcane mechanism as it revolves.

<It's beautiful,> Maya says in her mind. <I'd not considered being an airship before, but a gorgeous mechanism like this making it possible certainly makes the idea tempting as a future dream.>

<Yeah,> Bria agrees. <You'd be the best ship in the sky.>

She sighs softly. <Be really nice to hold your hand.>

<Maybe try the spell again?>

She does. Maya shimmers into view next to her, hand extended. They try to hold hands, but Bria's hand goes right through Maya's, like a ghost.

<That... That's not enough. We can do better,> they think in unison, focusing hard on the ability to make all of the headmates tangible, at least to each other.

It feels as though this is a deep, deep abyss of power she could reach for. There is so much they could do, and this? Is a tiny figment in comparison. It's barely a push at all, if it's just each other.

Then push they shall, and something goes click in Bria's soul, and Maya's hand wraps around hers gently.

They stand there for several minutes, quietly savoring each other's company, watching the mechanism.

And then they go back into the room, because Erika pointed out that there was food left out. Bria sits gently on the edge of the bed and eats, savoring the simple fare as her girls all cuddle physically against her. They spend a few minutes after she finishes eating just cuddling, simply reveling in the sensation of being able to touch each other for real, finally.

And then they fold back into the mindscape, each kissing Bria's cheek before they go, and Bria steps out to go look for the captain on the outer deck.

They're actually not flying anymore; The ship is pulled up alongside a concrete pier. It's a bit warm out and there are port buildings around, as well as a lighthouse. The ship hardly seems to move at all in the gentle harbor waves.

The captain is not immediately visible on the outer deck. However, one of the bits of fantastical shiny metal-crystal rope hanging at regular intervals waves in the air, and then forms an arrow pointing aft.

Well! This is a lovely place to be docked, and that's a clear enough guide, so aft she heads, taking a look at the surrounding bits of town as she walks.

She may recognize the place after enough observation - this is Tripoli, the very same place that Luigi Luzzatti is always making speeches about taking from the Ottomans, while they're still weak from the whole Balkans Affair!

The Captain is carefully overseeing a large cargo net that steadily winds itself over crates and barrels and lifts them, ferrying them out onto the pier.

"Good morning!" He calls out, once more in Italian, though with a foreign accent. "I did not introduce myself last night- Captain Nicholas Straus, at your service. How do you feel?"

"Good morning," she replies with a warm smile. "I'm Bria.. Benedetta."

There's the barest pause before she gives the last name. She hadn't picked one before now, but that feels like an excellent way to remember Teresa's gift to her.

"I feel quite a lot better. I'm still sad to have lost her, but the fray has eased, and I'm resolved to live as bright and joy-filled a life as she was always encouraging me to seek. Thank you again, for the rescue and the breakfast."

"You are welcome. It's a mariner's duty to render aid when able. And a spirit bearer's as well." Sigh. "I don't know you or your friend, but I do believe that is one of the best... Roads. My apologies, my Italian is not the best. I am American by birth."

She nods and smiles softly. "It is one of the best paths, true, we spoke of it often. It was just so much harder to remember that in the moment yesterday."

But then she brightens. "American, you say? Teresa told me much of her travels in America. She particularly enjoyed sharing tales of Florida and Louisiana."

"Ah, swamp country! It does have its charm. Florida has excellent beaches, too. The whole wide world is turning into cities these days, though. Sometimes I think it's no wonder the monsters are getting worse too. Would you like to try some Jambalaya tonight, perhaps?"

She switches to English. "Perhaps this will make conversation easier. I doubt it's cities, though the spirits can't be too pleased about those, so much as all the suffering. But that's just my guess based on picnic discussions with a ghost.

"And I'd love to try jambalaya tonight! Teresa did say it was delicioso. Also, is there anything I can do to help out aboard?"

"English is a fair bit easier, thank you."

He makes a thoughtful noise and watches over the cargo unloading for a bit.

"If you really wish to help a few minor chores, perhaps, or the eternal one of pouring power into the works if you can learn it. I spend much of my time alone by preference, but I'm happy to have the honor of a brief sort of apprenticeship, as it were. So long as you know it's temporary." He turns to her with a smile and a stage-whisper. "It'll keep the busy-bodies off my back too. I'm contributing, if I'm teaching."

"I'd love to do all of those," she says with a nod. "Whenever you get tired of teaching me, feel free to drop me anywhere that speaks English, French, or Italian that has other bearers. I'm not picky."

"I want to assure you that I also have absolutely no romantic or similar intentions as one may occasionally suspect a man with an unrelated woman of. Such things are generally very relaxed in our community, anyway."

"Well that's a relief," she replies with a giggle. "I don't even like men that way, so it's quite convenient that you have no such intentions."

"Have you goodbyes to say or letters to send in Sicily? We can be there again this afternoon."

No. Just. No. She is not going back to get pleaded with to stay.

<Damned right you aren't,> concurs Erika.

Nova conjures a pen in mindspace and holds it up questioningly.

<Nova's right, Bria. A letter wouldn't let them find us or stop us, and might keep them from searching,> Maya notes.

"I would have said no," Bria says with a wan smile, "but I came around to the idea that a letter might stop them from searching as hard, and needn't give them any clues as to finding me. Have you pen and paper I could borrow?"

"I've a study you can use, yes. I must finish unloading and go talk to various overly important bureaucrats about being paid for this cargo first, alas."

The last crate settles on the pier, forming a fairly impressive collection of Stuff.

"To the fore hatches, now. I'm not completely sure where to begin teaching, I admit. I'm unusual."

Bria follows like an inky duckling. "I used to tutor the other students, so I know a little, and have a few ideas about how to start. It depends on whether you want to focus on shipboard things or spirit bearer things first."

"I think it depends on whether you want to focus on shipboard things or spirit bearer things. Also, this is a decidedly unusual ship. The knowledge may not transfer. I can at least teach you about monsters..."

"I love unusual ships. Ships in general, but unusual ships especially. There are reasons why I would especially love to learn how a ship like this is made, in particular. But that's a story for another day."

She hums thoughtfully. "As much as I want to learn both immediately, and as much as I'd love to learn ship things and start being useful, I remember hearing that a bearer's growth is easiest and fastest in the first week. I'd be a fool to pass that up. What do you think of starting on that, and fitting ship-related education in between, in breaks and when I'm magicked out?"

"Sensible. I saw your summons, as they were- that will be your first spell. Everyone gets one. One thing that is important to consider is how you wish to grow. Flexible and varied? Defensive? Fast? A builder and enchanter like me? The first week is where you grow fastest like you said, to set an early foundation. You can push your limits with effort, but only so much."

<Well, that confirms whether or not we're visible,> Mays notes.

Bria smiles sappily. "Well, if you could see them, I guess the time for that story is now. I was delighted that my girls got to be my first spell. This... is kind of personal, but... my 'summons' are three girls who've shared my head with me for years. They have their own desires and dreams, their own interests and skills. The way we look at things, we're all in this together, so I'd like a big part of my focus to be enabling them to stand on their own. Part of that might be just developing my magic enough that they can express their own, but part of that will require some building and enchanting like you suggested. Did you enchant the core yourself? We'll also have to figure out our fighting styles, both individually and as a group. Beyond that, I don't know what we need to focus on."

"...I can't say I've ever heard of such a thing. Not outside of unreliable anecdotes. Are you quite sure of it? I don't know how it will shake out. In particular, it is known that spirit bearers cannot ignite more of their own. Many have tried. But magic follows will. And yes, I did- and other equipment besides. Not all of the ship is magic, I have engines and the more that works with reality the less effort I must expend to sail her, but enough."

"We have no idea. I just know that they're their own people, with their own separate natures, for all that we're all running on my magic. Who knows what we'll manage! Just this morning we pushed a little bit and they were able to become tangible to me and each other, and that didn't feel very hard at all."

She hums thoughtfully. "I've never read or heard of a spirit bearer being multiple people at once before, though I haven't found great literature on the subject at all really. Maybe we're unprecedented, who knows?"

"Who knows indeed. One thing you must know- That pushing? It gets harder and harder, starts taking careful practice and visualization, and only gets easier as you master the abilities you already have, and achieve great things with them. I would not at all be surprised if they can become as physically mighty as you, and wield their own magic, in time. When we're done here, I think some demonstrations and spear drill is in order."

"Agreed. I wonder if any of us will stick with the standard spear, as well. I know I personally took better to whip, sword, and bow, in mundane training."

<I wanna try fans, and maybe some other things too,> chirps Erika!

Nova conjures up an image of a rapier, alongside a staff with a crook on the end, and looks back and forth between them before shrugging.

<Shield, hammer, and something heavy and ranged all appeal to me,> adds Maya.

Bria giggles at all that. "The girls all eagerly chimed in with what weapon variations they're interested in."

"Forcing your own weapon to change is permanent. It can change back, but it is the same as pushing for more spells. We can acquire samples to practice with, first."

She nods. "Good to know. We'll have to see if they even can get their own weapon states separate from mine before we start doing much changing. practicing with mundane versions to see what we can all use sounds worthwhile. Maybe a first test, after we see where we're all suited, could be changing to something that all of us can use decently well, then one of the girls trying to get the basic spear without changing mine?"

"We have reached the end of my expertise but it does not sound Unreasonable."

"Hehe, maybe this is sufficiently uncharted territory that we should write a book about learning all these new things!"

"Perhaps you could. Are you familiar with any sort of craft, or engineering? Enchanting works best if you are."

She nods, "Not formally educated in it, but studied a fair bit of clockwork as a hobby, and sculpted some in clay."

"We can try that later as well, then. You can rest a bit longer while I handle the cargo and take care of some things. You've had a harrowing experience."

She closes her eyes, takes a slow, deep breath, and opens them again. "Yeah, we have. You're right. Maybe we'll head back to the cabin and just spend some time being close for a bit. Thank you again, Nick."

"I also had an unpleasant time around my awakening. Though it wasn't a... Single incident." Sigh. "I won't bother you with that, though."

"We'd be glad to listen sometime, if you wanted to share. For now, though, we're heading back to the cabin. You can meet everyone properly when you get back, I suppose. Arrivederci!"

Captain Nick leaves her alone for several hours as the sun climbs into the sky.

Bria makes her way back to the cabin lost in thought, and sits down heavily on the bed. With a brief mental nudge, her girls spill out beside her, tangible amongst each other.

Maya wraps her arms around Bria's back, squeezing her tightly and kissing the back of her head.

Erika cuddles in beside her and kisses her cheek.

While Nova bounces into her lap and boops her nose.

"We're making a life, Bria, one piece at a time. We'll make Teresa proud."

"Yeah. You're right. I just... miss her."

She wraps her arms tightly around Nova and snuggles into the other two girls' embrace.

"We do too. She deserved better than that, but it's not your fault. There've been no genies in Sicily in years. Someone woulda told you if there were. An' I don't think there was any way out of that fight without Nick saving us."

She nods, sniffles, and lets herself cry, snuggling into the cuddlepile of headmate-girlfriends.

Maya slowly lowers Bria to the bed and pets her hair, while the other girls cuddle in around her as well. The bed is small, but they can make it work.

The next few hours are spent cuddling, holding each other close, and savoring one of the simplest and most powerful results of the blessing they've been given.

Captain Nick knocks on the door several hours later. "Miss Benedetta, I've found some annoying chores for you to do if you still want to help! Also, food."

A voice Nick doesn't recognize, smooth and serene like gracefully-curved steel, calls out through the door to him. "Thank you, Captain Nick. Come in."

"Ah, one of the others?"

He opens the door and steps back, arms behind his back.

"Well met?"

She nods, still tangled with the other three. "Well met, Nicholas Straus. I am Maya Benedetta, and these are Erika and Novapolitana — Nova, for short," she replies with a smile, gesturing lightly at the other two girls in turn.

Erika pries herself upright and then starts tugging Bria and Nova up as well. "S'it time to get started?"

Nova smirks at Nick's expression and nudges Bria, sitting up and mostly untangling.

She looks up and notices Nick as well, then blushes just a bit at his obvious unease. "I'm sorry about this. They're all variously fond of teasing me, and sometimes others get caught in the splash damage."

She sits up properly, waves, then turns to the others. "Loves, please try not to discomfit the nice airship captain?"

Sigh. "I'm sure I'll get used to you lot in time. As I said... Alone by preference. But, come. Sparring first, or an enchanting lecture? You do not have to fight, just because you can. It's expected by many, especially the old covens and larger organizations. The busybodies I mentioned. But you do not have to."

Bria hums thoughtfully, then gives her girls an inquisitive look.

She giggles and nods. "Sparring first."

"I'd rather use a dirt lot for that than the Albatross. Luckily I thought ahead. Just a few minutes' walk into town. Shall we?"

She exchanges a smile and nod with Bria, then takes her hand, and the girls all follow Captain Nick onto shore again toward the field.

The good Captain flips a coin towards a local when they go into the field. It's behind a warehouse, out of the way. Looks like it's some sort of animal pen, usually.

"The foundation is the spear. Even if you choose a different weapon later, knowing the spear will do you good. There is a tradition and body of knowledge for it. The pointy stick may very well be Man's first friend against the dark."

He puts on a look of focus, and out of nowhere a beam of light seems to melt into reality in his hand. He slowly demonstrates a few poses and basic routines, expecting Bria to follow along. Stand just so, rest your weight like this. Grip the spear shaft and use its leverage. Stern, expecting perfection from the start, but not impatient - and willing to explain why spear form is the way it is.

Bria starts off doing it on her own, but after a moment, all three headmates flicker into view, quickly becoming substantial enough to hold spears, and then, with a touch of effort together, they all mentally push, and three more spears appear, one in the hands of each girl. They all start drilling forms together.

This push seems to be a strain, a stretch- It takes serious effort, like lifting something heavy that hurts your fingers as they dig into too-small corners or forcing yourself up at three in the morning when you've barely gotten a wink of sleep and it's warm and comfy-

But they can manage it.

The good captain does spear drill right alongside them, movements firm and steady with practice. Nick decides, after most of an hour, to test how substantial the other three are at the moment. He animates a mass of glittery rope into a vaguely-humanoid form three feet high, and singles out - Maya first, getting her to fight it.

She turns to face it sidelong, feet spread in a steady stance, spear at the ready, pointing toward the practice dummy.

The animate mass of rope charges with a fairly believable sense of weight and balance - or more specifically, reckless disregard for balance or caution. It leaps forward, claws out, and attempts a halfhearted dodge, trying to close in for a claw swipe.

She steps quickly back from the incoming swipe and thrusts the spear at the center of the mass.