"Papers! Get your exclusive news updates here!" A paperkid yelled loudly into the air with a distinctively shrill voice. "Ghosts sighted in Sol City! Stay informed with The Capitol Daily!"

Ghosts, huh. Ambika loathed ghosts and their ilk. They reminded her of her past all too well, and for a time, they were an unfortunately less-than-uncommon occurrence in her daily life. The memories of the exorcising she had to perform on her house right after that accursed day flashed in her mind as she deftly took a roll of newspaper from the paperkid. The apparitions of her dead family had been curiously absent even though their deaths were technically no less violent than their assailants', which was a possibly ominous fact that has definitely kept her up on certain nights.

Unrolling and reading the paper yields the identities of the aforementioned ghosts - a troupe of Bardic Virtuoso aspirants who died mid-performance when one of them accidentally set fire to the rope that held the wall prop behind them in place, causing the wall to collapse forward and quite literally turn them into flesh pancakes. They now haunt the labyrinthine jungle that is Sol City, unwittingly terrifying the civilian populace in search of respite. At the bottom of the paper it states that there are bounties out for people who can exorcise the ghosts from their homes in the next page. Not one to miss a more interesting opportunity to earn some Solars, Ambika brought herself to a corner she could inspect the details of the bounties in peace, and set upon finding one that paid relatively well without being too much trouble. More specifically, one that contained a lone ghost and no more.

Laying her eyes on a block near the outer corner of the paper with the words 'Constantly Singing Haunt!', Ambika instinctively furrowed her brows and tried to pretend she didn't see that, only to realize she was done with the available bounties and that was the only one that was described as an individual ghost haunting. Great, more horrible poison to the ears. Sigh. I guess it wouldn't kill me to add another to the collection.

With her mind made up, Ambika somewhat reluctantly carried herself to the musical instrument merchant's mansion that housed that abominable banshee.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Dead Bards Society
Participants: Two or more
Location: Sol City
Post Requirements: 4 post per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: Citizens have reported sightings of apparitions and hauntings of the most unusual nature: It appears some Bardic Virtuoso aspirants have met a violent end, but refuse to leave this world behind without a good story. Find and handle a ghost who is bringing the civilians trouble, whichever way you see fit. Some believe the ghosts can be persuaded… if you can impress them. You can try to impress the ghosts by singing, dancing, telling stories or with heroic acts of bravery. Others will say the pointy end of a sword is always very persuasive.

“Ohhh look ghost stories!” Helia exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the crier distributing newspapers. Luzien just rolled his eyes as his sister hurried off towards the boy handing out papers. He didn’t bother with a reply and instead let her feel his exacerbation through their mental link before following after her.

Helia pressed a coin into the paperboy’s hand and took one of the advertised newspapers in exchange and began reading instantly. She did struggle holding the paper open with her one hand as it fluttered in the strong breeze until her brother stepped in and grabbed the other side to hold it steady.

“Please don’t tell me you actually believe in ghosts.” Luzien sighed as he observed Helia devouring the article on the paper’s front page.

Helia looked up at him in surprise. “My dearest brother, how can I be attached to you my entire life and only now learn that you are one of those people that doesn’t believe in ghosts? You are joking, right?”

“Have you ever seen a ghost? How can you think they are real?”

“I mean... no? But they are invisible so of course I wouldn’t have seen one! Plus there are plenty of things We’ve never seen but know are real. Dragons for example.”

“Sure but dragons are a physical thing you can actually touch. Someone shows up with a giant scale or finds a massive reptilian skull and there is no other explanation for it than dragons. But ghosts? There is zero proof of them they’re intangible and invisible and a load of horse shit if you ask me.”

“Please tell me you’ve suddenly learned how to lie to me. I don’t know how I’d handle you completely losing your mind. Thinking ghosts aren’t real is like... like... believing magic isn’t real!”

Helia studied her brother’s face intently and with increasing worry in her eyes. At the same time she searched out his thoughts with her mind, trying to gauge his emotions. A huge grin cracked Luzien’s face before he burst into laughter.

“Oh man, Hel, you should see your face. I can’t believe you actually believed me.”

“Asshole!” Helia yelled and punched him in the shoulder, somewhat crumpling the newspaper in the process. But a small smile played around her lips. She really loved her idiot brother with his silly antics, but it was a little scary that he could hide his thoughts from her well enough to fool her even for just a second.

Wanting to return back to the topic at hand she spread the paper once more and pointed to the section at the bottom of the article.

“Look there is a reward to anyone who managed so exorcise one of these ghosts. What do you think? Our purse is getting a little light lately.”

“It’s getting light because someone keeps spending our hard earned coin on things we don’t need. Like news stories about ghosts.”

But despite his words Luzien drew nearer to examine the section of the article Helia had pointed out.

“How about this one - a lone singing ghost shouldn’t be too hard to handle and we’d probably find it rather quickly if it is making that much noise.”



Agreeing on their target, they headed off towards the location described in the paper.

As they drew closer to the location, Helia suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

Woah, do you think that’s the ghost lady? she whispered through their mental bond, not daring to speak out loud, while pointing down the road to where a woman with snow white hair and a lute slung over her back was standing in front of the mansion they had been looking for.

I mean, she might be pretty close to death but for now she still looks pretty alive to me. I think she’s probably the instrument merchant and owner of the mansion that’s being haunted. Lucky we’d just be running into her like this.

Luzien continued walking and started waving his one arm towards the elderly woman, Helia following close behind him.
“Excuse me. Hello! We’re here to help with your ghost problem!”

A brief surge of annoyance coursed through Ambika's veins as she turned her head around to her left just enough to see it was merely a pair of Elven, or half-Elven kids, each curiously missing an arm though they try to hide it. Before she could correct them though, the mansion entrance door clinked and slowly opened up, revealing a young adult Human woman who clearly hasn't had enough sleep judging by the dark circles under her eyes. Her choice of clothing indicated she was more likely a relative to the household owner rather than a worker.

"Oh~ my dear lass~ what a lovely trio of guests thou havest~♪" A set of phrases that honestly would've sounded better just spoken aloud normally rather than in an off-pitch sing-song voice echoed from further within.

"What do you want...?" The young woman asked frankly, likely too drained to eke out any semblance of courtesy normally ingrained in a merchant household.

Ambika unfurled the newspaper she held on hand, pointing to the bounty put out by this address to avoid agitating the ghost nearly as much as she would if she verbalized her intentions.

"Oh... Right." Seeming as though she's recalled something, the young woman pulled the rest of the door open and invited Ambika in. "Please, come in. I am Syrica. My parents were chanced with an opportunity to go outstation - _{lucky for them} - so I am currently taking care of the mansion in their stead."

"My~ Why the long face, my dear~ Have I not done enough, to turn that frown upside downnnnnnnn~♪" The titular haunt sat on a fancy, gold-encrusted armchair in the criminally wide living room, which also housed three sets of sofas, and an entire orchestra of intricately-crafted instruments which ranged from a grand harp, a cello, a harpsichord, a flugelhorn, a bassoon, a marimba, two goblet drums, and a sitar. The ghost itself was that of Elven descent, adorning a fashionable shovel hat with a long feather spanning sideways, frilly, tight-fitting clothes and a pair of dance boots, with its greenish tones preventing any further discernment into its genetics. All in all, Ambika did not actually find the ghost all that terrible thus far aside from its incessant singing. Sure, it may be a constant nuisance, but nothing she couldn't have personally slept through.

"I'd love nothing more than for you to leave me and my house alone! I had to put all our workers on leave because of all the disruption you're causing all the time!" The young woman shouted indignantly, her voice trembling as she forced the words out.

"Oh~ Surely you jest, my dear~ All our time together, yet you still hide your love for me~ Oh woahhhhhhh~♪" That sense of entitlement, on the other hand, certainly made for a different story. The ghost then returned to its low-singing interlude, seemingly uncaring for the argument the two just had.

"By the way, are those two children with you?" Syrica asked. Ambika weighed her options. She could say no, but in her experience, kids were notoriously hard to dissuade once they have their minds set. Gods know Kishan was practically impossible to stop when he wanted something badly enough, and the lines he was willing to cross for his goals has absolutely induced fear in Ambika and her partner every now and then. Her other two children were not much better in that regard either. She wasn't about to say yes, since that would be enabling them. So she decided to put the onus on them instead, looking straight into the two's eyes.

As the mansion’s grand door opened and they spotted a well dressed lady ogling them curiously, Luzien mentally corrected his assumption. The old lady clearly wasn’t part of this household. A fellow adventurer then? She seemed a bit old for that type of work, though.

An eerie, echoing voice floated to them from inside the house and caused a shiver to run down both their spines.

Guess your article was right. This place does really seem haunted, Luzien couldn’t hide the feeling of unease that accompanied his mental words.

Aww, you scared? Don’t worry I’ll protect you from the big scary singing ghost! Helia quipped as they followed the merchant’s daughter and the grandma into the building.

The mansion was enormous! Beautiful paintings decorated the walls and thick carpets in vibrant colours covered most of the elegant hardwood flooring. Most impressive, however, was the huge variety of instruments scattered around everywhere. There were all sorts of drums and things that mostly looked like lutes in different sizes. And what was that one called again? A flute maybe? Tons and tons of different flutes.

Helia didn’t pay the interior decoration much mind and followed their host into the centre of the room, eager to find and confront this ghost, that, by the sound of it, had been terrorizing the inhabitants for a while now. Said ghost kept rambling on in her wailing singsong, that made some of her words difficult to understand. At least she seemed good natured, rather than hostile. Her words now sounded like she was rather close. Maybe even in this room with them? Or in one of the adjoining rooms? This hopefully meant that finding her wouldn’t be the difficult part of this job.

Annoyance coursed through Helia as Syrica asked that walking fossil if they were her children. “Actually, we’re not children. We’re 17. And we came here to help with your gho-” Helia cut off as a set of notes rang out loudly from behind her.

Luzien, fascinated by the variety of different instruments, had been studying a large curved frame with many strings tied within it and had just finished running his fingers over the strings, eliciting a set of harmonyous notes.

Before the tones had fully faded, the ghost began to wail “Do not touch the instruments~♪”, she shrieked in her singsong tone. Startled, Luzien stepped back and bumped into an open display case holding several beautiful bells of varying sizes. The bells rattled and clinked and one of them tipped over and started rolling towards the edge.

As it fell, Luzien quickly reached out and snatched it out of the air.

“Got it!” He shouted triumphantly over the still screeching ghost.

"As you can see, we just found a way to draw it out. Now we can work on exorcising it", Helia shouted, trying to make the best out of the situation.

"There is... another?" Ambika tempered herself, preventing her inner annoyance from surfacing in more ways than one as she heard a second similar yet different voice to her trained ears.
"Oh, I forgot to introduce Pamela. She's our ancestor, been helping us fine-tune our instruments since... Well, you don't need to know that." Syrica then turned to the Elven children and yelled, "You two! Don't touch the musical instruments unless you know what you're doing! Pamela gets really angry when people disrespect them!" The bell then promptly floated away from the boy's hand, returning itself to its original position.

"Why yes~ The elderly matron doth protest much~ All I did was try a tune and she cast fear into me so~ Now I relegate myself to this chair with only my voice~♪" The ghost in the chair sung discordantly. The children appeared to have not seen the ghost openly seated on the armchair despite the latter facing the entrance. This certainly complicated things.

Ambika gestured towards the sofa opposite from the armchair, and Syrica gave an approving nod. Taking a seat as she removed her lute, she pulled a set of harsh, dramatic strums reminiscent of the start of certain Crescent Isle plays.

"This is!? A fellow musician?" The Elven ghost broke out of their affected feminine singsong voice from the sudden influx of music to a deep masculine voice, while Ambika felt a gentle chill on her tuning hand, likely from Pamela.

"So. What impels you to this realm?" [1]The sounds of two beats from the goblet drums swiftly followed, and the Elven ghost's attention was now solely on Ambika, their expression a mix of awe and anger.

"Oh~ I wish for an experience out of this world~ The tragedy remains fresh in my mind so~ Leaving me tethered to this world~♪" the Elven ghost reverted back to the singsong voice, with Ambika strumming the chords to complement them and inquired on their life story in the form of song as the words spilled forth.

[1]On the side, a feather pen and notebook placed on one of the side tables ascended into the air and moved towards the the two Elven children. The notebook opened up and the words were written into the paper as such.

---

Write to me what you see, feel and hear. Ghosts can vary in the way they are perceived.

-- Ambika

---

[1]Minor Trickery, channeled through Enhanced Instrument.

Disgruntled, Luzien snatched the notebook and pen out of the air and positioned himself by one of the few flat surfaces in the room, that wasn’t covered in instruments - a small high table close to the door they had entered through. They both hadn’t even noticed that the shrieking came from a different ghost. Why had he let Helia drag them into this? They clearly weren’t cut out for this type of job. It’s not like they had any previous experience with ghosts.

‘I think this is fun. Plus how many people can claim that they played a vital role in ghostly exorcisms? It’s a great experience’, Helia whispered into his mind with a smile after sensing his annoyance.

‘So far that bard is doing all the work so you better get going if you want to “play a vital role” here’, Luzien replied with an eyeroll as he began scribbling down their experiences as instructed. He had felt a chill by his side when the bell had been pulled out of his hand and drifted back to its place. The sensation had been almost painfully cold on his hand when the ghost had grabbed the bell, but it had completely faded now, letting him to believe that it had moved somewhere else.

Meanwhile, Helia slowly moved through the room while keeping her gaze fixed on the armchair the elderly bard was focused on, believing this might be where the singing ghost was located.

The music turned mesmerizing as the ghost began retelling her story. At times her words were still impossible to understand, too distorted by the combination of song and ghostly echoes, but Luzien did his best to jot it all down.

*~*~*

As the last note of the song faded away, no one in the room moved. Helia was the first to break the spell, returning to Luzien’s side to look over the notes he had taken and adding her own observations. Once they both were satisfied, they discretely handed the book back to the elder bard.

---

The ghost's song in text form:

SPOILER: Click to show

Oh~ It all began when my mother dearest gifted me the most marvellous harp. Its wood was carved just so~ and its strings rang with sounds most alluring. T’was this fateful day my heart was fully gripped by music. Oh, all my life my only love was song. And my heart burned with naught but passion for my craft. Never did I believe another could entice me, for music was my sole desire.

I travellest so, sharing my gifts with all the world, Never wanting, never needing - song my only companion~

Alas, one fateful night, while performing my latest masterpiece, my eyes spotted fairest maiden Syrica. My heart stopped still, then a cacophony~ Crescendo of my life. I had not truly known love till this very night. As our eyes met I knew, she’s the heart of my heart and oh~ this was meant to be.

As the crowd roared its raucous applause, I sent her a note to meet me on the morrow, for my troupe had planned the most ambitious performance to ever grace the land. There, my Syrica dearest would hear the music of my heart and know my love most true.

But oh~ fate had plans most cruel. For on that awful day, before a single note had left my throat - ‘fore I could even spot my most beloved in the crowd - the wooden stage gave way beneath our very feet and we all met a bitter end.

Now here I am with aching heart~ my love needs be answered, ‘ere I may depart.

Ambika raised her hidden left eyebrow as she read the words written in the notebook. It wasn't common for a ghost to have jumbled memories, but it does happen every now and then for a multitude of reasons, mostly from cognitive dissonance or from the need to fill the gaps with something. Still, it was useful to have the twins' perspective on this matter to differentiate between what was real and what was fluff. In this case, the origin story was likely real, which would help in explaining why the ghost was haunting this house specifically. 'Syrica' was probably someone else, and the ghost is projecting onto her and clinging onto her name as she was the closest approximate to their first love. The difference in the manner of death could easily be explained through trauma or confusion - deaths are not pretty affairs, after all.

Anyway, this ghost needed closure in regards to their first love in order to depart to the afterlife, but based on earlier interactions, getting the ghost to accept no as the answer was going to be an uphill battle. Ambika pondered her options. She hadn't any anti-ghost armaments; she wasn't in the business of ending people anymore, and her partner was much more effective when it came to apparitions anyway. Besides, she wasn't about to drop by her old home to look for anything useful. Much too dreadful for her mental state. That left getting Syrica to cooperate and making her give him a heartfelt reaction.

"Syrica. I have a request," Ambika's voice was firm and commanding.
"Wha-? Oh my, I must have fallen asleep. The sounds were actually pleasing for once..." Syrica was lying on the sofa, fast nodding off to sleep again when the ghost suddenly let out a fierce shout.
"Thief! You intend to steal my Syrica from me?" The ghost's voice became threatening at the thought of a better musician upstaging them.
"I simply wished to ask that Syrica listen to your performance until the end. Did you even ask her?" Ambika already knew the answer to the question; twas probably fear that held their tongue.
"I- no." The ghost hesitated, their form wavering more than usual. "Syrica, could you please listen to my ballad of love~♪"
"I-I guess?" Syrica wasn't really listening, which is bad. Ambika needed her full attention for this to work.
"You were in a troupe, correct? I wish to assist in your performance. I have known love myself, before it was taken from me." Ambika offered, throwing in an honest truth to make it seem less suspicious. Her pained expression was entirely genuine though.
"A singular person does not make a troupe!" The ghost shouted indignantly. "But yes, you may assist me. Only if you get a few more people though." ...Which in practice, meant the twins had to get in on it too. Sigh. Ambika wasn't sure if these two kids had the capacity to keep up until the end, even if she kept their roles simple. She might be good at covering for others, but the more people involved, the more factors were at play and subsequently, more possible points of failure. Probably best for them to play the goblet drums or the marimba, since they could do that with their singular arms.

"You two. I need you two to play the goblet drums and the marimba. For the goblet drums, just playing to this beat is fine." Ambika takes a moment to demonstrate how it should be played. "As for the marimba, play this tune whenever you hear this chord." She pulled a high-pitched string, then hit the relevant marimba keys from left-to-right with the mallet on one hand.
"Pamela. I will be borrowing the harpsichord. Might I request your cooperation with the bells?" A gentle chill caressed her hand, which Ambika took to be a yes. This was probably all she could do, the rest was up to everyone else now.

The twins exchanged a surprised look as the elderly bard began ordering everyone in the room around. Did she actually believe that a bit of music could resolve the haunting? Well she did seem to know a lot more about ghosts and they did, so maybe she was right. They might as well follow her lead for now and think up something else if this didn’t work.

I feel sorry for Syrica having to sit through some terrible ballad, though, Helia mused, as she grabbed the mallet for the wooden instrument.
“Wait! Let me play that one.”, Luzien rushed over and tried to grab the mallet out of her hand.
“No, why? A drum is boring. I want this one.”
“Because, you’ve already forgot the melody she showed us, AND you probably already forgot the que for it, too. So give it here,” Luzien held out his hand for the mallet expectantly. Helia held his stare for a long moment before relenting and handing it over. He was not wrong after all...

She positioned herself by the drum and cautiously tested the beat they’d been shown, before nodding to the bard that she was ready. Luzien glanced longingly at the tall string instrument he’d run has fingers over earlier, wishing for a moment he could be playing that one instead. But it could not be helped now. Testing the weight of the mallet and its grip, he also indicated his readiness.


Not long after they started playing Helia began veering heavily off beat, making Luzien groan inwardly and throwing them all off.

Please get it together it’s not that hard

I’m trying my best. Pretty sure this is how she showed us.

No, not even close. Let me... Closing his eyes, Luzien called up the beat in his mind and began directing his sister on when to hit the drum through their mental link. Helia relaxed and let her brother guide her, their bond strengthening by the moment.

It took a lot of concentration, but soon it was as if Luzien was playing both instruments himself, directing Helia’s hand effortlessly, as if it was his own, while hitting the melody the bard had shown them perfectly. He felt an urge to add his own flourishes to the music, thinking of notes that could fit into the melody and places where a louder beat would make a good addition. At first he tried to resist, not wanting to ruin what they were trying to do, but soon he was consumed by the music. His additions, while minor, making the song sound whole.

Ambika noted the girl starting out completely off-beat but tempered herself, understanding some people are simply senseless dolts who could not be helped, then heard the drums gradually sync into beat. At the same time, she could sense the boy's harmony fluctuating so very slightly whilst the drums began to keep apace and then the improvisations started coming in. She had no idea what had happened, but she wasn't complaining since this entire 'troupe' was basically a mishmash of improvisations in the first place anyway, and any helpful improvements were welcome to her ears. For her part, she was playing the lute and vocalising sounds with her mouth whilst also playing the harpsichord remotely[1], while Pamela was doing a resoundingly amazing job with the bells.

As the music reached the climax, the ghost's voice began to transition from their borrowed feminine sing-song voice to what was likely their original voice, a masculine baritone that was howling their lungs out with words to their dedication to their craft and their unrequired love. Syrica appeared to be enraptured, and her full attention was now solely on the ghost who had brought her nothing but misery for the past few days.

"Oh~ Your sparkling eyes and your beautiful smile~

I only wish to gaze upon them, one final time~♪"

The performance at its end, Syrica broke down into tears and the words spilled forth as she tried to clutch the ghost's hands only to grasp naught but air. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't be yours! I have my path to travel, and you have yours!"
"I know. I knew. I held on to the delusion of hope for far too long, not wanting to accept the reality that my dear had her own dreams elsewhere. Thank you for your honesty." The ghost spoke solemnly, then turned around to their fellow performers. "I would like to give my sincerest thanks for your cooperation. Especially to you, my fellow musician." They bowed specifically at Ambika. "I would ask your opinion if I could have ever reached your level of skill, but there is no point to that now, is there?" Spectral droplets trickled down from their eyes onto their cheeks as they slowly faded away.

Ambika's body immediately gave way the instant it sensed the threat was gone, and everything seemed to bleed into each other in her eyes as her upper body collapsed onto the sofa. She hadn't pushed herself this much in far... too... long......

---

[1]Minor Trickery, channeled through Enhanced Instrument

As the last notes of the music faded, Luzien closed his eyes let out a long sigh, his heart beating hard to the rhythm of the drum. Helia’s curiosity pulled him out of the reverie. They shared a long, meaningful look with each other, both of them surprised by his aptitude for music. This wasn’t something they’d ever had the opportunity to explore and, although Helia had known Luzien was interested in music, she’d had no idea this kind of passion had lain hidden within her brother. She couldn’t help but feel hurt that there was something she didn’t know about him and the desire to talk about it threatened to eclipse anything else going on around them.

Before she could rush over, however, Luzien shook her head at her and nodded towards the scene before them. 

We can talk later. Let’s handle this first. Syrica was sitting in an armchai, quietly sobbing into her hands and the bard was slumped motionless in her seat. The voice of the ghost had faded away and somehow the room felt... empty and cold, as if a bright presence had disappeared. Save to say their little musical performance had successfully helped the ghost move on. Now it was time to take care of the living.

Helia fished a handkerchief out of her pocket and moved over to Syrica to console the woman, murmuring reassuringly while pattin her back. It wasn't quite clear if it was the beautiful music, the heartfelt honesty of the ghost, or the relief to be rid of it had brought her to tears.

Meanwhile, Luzien crouched before the bard, worried about her condition. The masterful performance had clearly taken a toll on her. Not really sure what else to do, he shook her shoulder gently and began talking, hoping to draw her back to full consciousness. “Hey, are you okay? That was one hell of a performance. You have an incredible talent! And we actually succeeded in getting rid of that ghost, I think...” Spotting an empty goblet on a nearby side table, he grabbed the ornately shaped glass and held it out to thewoman. By the time it was withing her reach, it had filled with crystal clear water^[1].

“Here drink something, it’ll make you feel better.”

---

[1] create water

Ambika's consciousness was barely jolted awake, the words nothing more than muffled echoes, and the only thing that drove her was her instincts as she snatched the glass of water offered to her and splashed it at her face. Much more effective than drinking. Now aware once more, Ambika lifted her upper body from the surface of the sofa and drank whatever was left in the glass.
"Thank you, young man. Though a word of advice, if you are going to offer a glass of water, you ought to make sure they are in a position less likely to cause choking," she dispensed unsolicited advice befitting her age as she handed the glass back to him and stood up to finish her business here.

Ambika walked over to Syrica, her tears stopped though her nose was still red and largely clogged.
"You did well. All of you." She looked at the young woman and Syrica and her thoughts went to Pamela. "Now, I would like my payment, please. The two of you deserve your peace, and what peace would there be with guests?"
Syrica was momentarily offended at the old woman cutting right into business as she was having a moment, but begrudgingly agreed that the latter had a point. "I'll be right there... Before that though, may I have your names, please?"
"Ambika Shanti Phairot." Syrica then waited for the two to introduce themselves, and went to fetch their payment.

While waiting for Syrica to return, Ambika decided to share her thoughts on their performance.
"You did well with your improvisation, Luzien. More opportunities and practice, and maybe you could consider music as a possible form of livelihood." She did not want to give guarantees, since skill wasn't everything in the world of music. "Helia... Maybe someone ought to teach you music theory before it becomes incurable." Florentio never did manage to produce anything remotely close to listenable despite all her lessons, and she genuinely hoped Helia was not a lost cause either. It was then that Syrica returned with two pouches, one bigger than the other.
"Here's your cut, and here's for the two of you." Syrica placed the bigger pouch on Ambika's open palm, and handed the other one to Luzien. "Pamela said to give you more." A gentle chill assailed Ambika's face momentarily before fading away.
"Thank you. I shall be taking my leave now." Ambika did a formal bow and headed out the entrance to head for an inn with a tavern. This little burst of energy would not last long, and she needed proper rest.

Luzien watched with an open mouth as the bard snatched the glass from his hand and unceremoniously dumped its contents into her face, only to berate him for it right after. “I wasn’t going to...” 'Let you choke' he wanted to finish the sentence, but she had already moved on. Helia dodged out of the way quickly, as the old woman approached, feeling annoyed by both the bard’s behaviour and her own reaction to it. But she couldn’t help feeling intimidated by the stern look on her face and the no-nonsense attitude.

After they'd finally introduced themselves, and Luzien had apologized for not doing so earlier, Helia whispered into his mind gleefully: We could have done that properly earlier if you hadn’t caused a ghostly meltdown. The grin on her face was wide enough, it would have been able to communicate the thought on its own. Before Luzien was able to shoot back more than a hateful look, Syrica returned and pressed a pouch of coins into his hand. They were both a bit peeved about getting a smaller cut, especially considering there was two of them, but only one of Ambika. But they were probably already pushing their luck, considering they’d been only semi-helpful at best, so they decided to let the matter rest.

Saying a warm farewell to Syrica once the bard had left (after all it never hurt to leave relations with the wealthy on positive note) they made their way back into the city. They weren’t even fully out of sight of the mansion before Helia’s hand pawed around inside Luzien’s satchel, hunting for the bag of coins.

“Hey stop that!”

“No you stop hoarding all the money yourself. Share some!”

“I do share. But if you were the keeper of our coin we would have”, he started counting on his fingers “A pile of gaudy dresses, 3 dogs, enough sugar to kill a person, too many candles for us to even carry, fireworks, a pony aaaand exactly zero food.” Seeing Helia’s pout he lifted and eyebrow and added “Or am I wrong?”

“No... but you don’t have to be so mean about it... Hey, if you let me keep hold of the money, maybe I’ll buy you a pretty instrument!”

Luzien snorted at that and slung his arm around her shoulder. “Come on silly, let’s grab something to eat.”

“You said we could talk about the music thing later. Now is later.”

“But Heeeeeel I’m huuuungry.” He drawled, imitating her needy, whiny voice perfectly. “We can even get desert.”

Helia’s eyes lit up at that. “Can we really?”

“Yeah, as long as you promise we’ll keep away from ghosts for a while,” Luzien chuckled at her hopeful look, and Helia soon joined in his laughter. And so they made their way back into the city in good spirits, with their arms slung around each other, drawing each other close. Just like it should always be.