"Are you sure that's what he says?"

I grunt, pushing my lids together, resisting the urge to scream at the woman seated opposite me.

"Yes," I respond, managing to keep my voice calm and low, trying my best to keep up the look of a mystic. "I am sure. Would you rather he say something else?"

The woman scoffs, my eyes are shut so I don't see her but I can feel her impatience, doubt and dissatisfaction. "You're the Mystic! You tell me what he's saying."

"I have." I grit out, trying to remain calm, "You seem dissatisfied is all. Did you expect him to say something else?"

"No, I just didn't expect him to say he loves me! He rejected me over and over again, he got married to my sister, we were best friends with all chance of romance burned and now you tell me he says he loves me?"

I gulp. This is not how I want it to go.

"Uhm. He meant that in a platonic way. He loves you as a friend!" my eyes flutter open in time to see the woman pick up her bucket and get off her chair.

"No. I should have known this was too good to be true. You're a charlatan! Trying to prey on our grieves?" she spits a wad on the table, missing my outstretched hands. "Shame on you!"

I get up and chase after her retreating figure, "Wait, I hear your friend saying somethi-"

"Charlatan!" she keeps screaming the word as she carries her bucket of water back into the village, drowning out whatever defence I had to say.

I sigh. Tired, hungry and stressed out, I crouch back into the makeshift tent and sit back at the table. Elsa's table.

I thought this would be my break. I thought I had the advantage here, I offered people here the chance to see their loved ones again, if only for a few minutes per fifty copper tokus. A generous rate, half of what the official Diviners charged, a silver for a few words of encouragement and love? I can do that! I can do better in fact! I can make you see your loved ones and talk to them.

At least I thought I could.

There isn't anything wrong with my powers, it's only that I don't have the same privileges to the dead the regular Diviners did. I don't have access to anyone that goes into that light Anselm spoke about and I don't have access to any spirit that isn't near the site of their death.

The first customer I got was a little girl. I was surprised and at the same time not really, but I was glad I could help her; she had her father- the one she wanted to talk to- die next to her. So, the old man lingered around her.

He was an easy summon, but in my foolishness, I didn't charge the girl because…well I pitied her. Who wouldn't? But if I'd known the next string of customers wouldn't be so fortunate to have their loved ones kick the bucket right next to them then I probably would've charged double.

After disappointing a string of people, I grew desperate and changed my tactics, if you didn't bring your ghost then I'll be your ghost.

I had Anselm put in place the standard earth style psychic tactic. Candles blown off one after the other, the table shaking, the poor shrub lifted in the air- this is harder to pull as Anselm needs to be visible to hold things, but we brought the whole deal.

Except I didn't account for these people to be completely desensitized to petty scares like these. In hindsight I should have realized; Elsa only hummed at the thought of Anselm being my dead ghost companion and Sem asked to see his father in the same way.

They completely shrugged off all the theatrics as nothing more than spirit activity and remained calm when I told them to. They weren't supposed to do that!

In the end, they nodded when it was done and asked if their spirit was in the tent and if they could ask their questions. So far, I've given all the wrong answers and left unpaid for my…services. Not that I blame them. Fifty copper wasn't something I'd be eager to part with either.

I let loose a ball of green mana, no longer needing to voice the name of my spell as the proficiency reached the level I no longer needed to. It's an upgrade I felt even without the blue box alerting me to the change.

At the same time, it reminded me of another skill I want to upgrade; Animate Animal. I want to pull out a rat and practice but I long got rid of my pocket mice as they stunk and also Sem confronted me about it, said he got a good scare from the dead mice in my pockets when he was robbing me. I found it both hilarious and embarrassing.

"Your plan is failing…" Anselm comments. He always chooses the most annoying first words.

"I can see that Anselm."

"The sun is setting. Not a lot of people will be coming this way, even without your plan failing."

I sigh I rub my temples. My growling stomach did nothing for morale and neither did the disappointed faces of Elsa and Sem.

We'd set up shop not too far from the shabby home, specifically close to the best water fetching spot next to the river. Most of the people that came in headed to the river or headed back from it, we have good traffic but terrible accounts. No one would be coming here now though.

"What are you going to do now?" The real question hung in the air; Are you going to attack and rob them?

"No." The answer is no. For now, at least. I look up to him and breathe out, "Do you have any ideas? I'm really considering practising Soul Drain."

"Well, you're doing one thing very, very wrong."

"And what's that?"

"You're waiting for customers."

"Look, I get today was horrible but it doesn't me-"

"No, not that. I mean your customers are families of the dead, the few dead who have chosen not to pass on, unwittingly or not."

"And?"

"And your product, the dead, can't move on from the place of their death remember? They are stuck there like some sort of eternal torment by the Goddess or something."

He facepalms and groans, "Do I have to spell this out for you? You need to go farm the product! You need to find the few spirits that are around here."

"I thought you said they were many here?"

"Yes! I did, I even spoke to a few but that doesn't mean they all have families that are still here and can pay to see them! You have to weed them out, some of these spirits have been around for centuries!"

Right, of course, there would be complications like that. But how had I not realized I was mistaking my abilities so? I couldn't be too hungry to think rationally, now could I? Or was I getting dumber?

"Right. Of course. Thank you, Anselm."

He shakes his head, "Sometimes I wonder which one of us is the Necromancer."

"That's the first time you've called me that." I muse.

"About time I figured out isn't it? It's glaringly obvious all this time."

"Then you know." I trail off, the unspoken truth lingers in the air.

'That I can't bring you back. No matter how powerful I become.'

"I'm fine living life through you. To an extent at least." He says a bit stiff.

I nod, a bit ashamed at getting caught in a lie but motivated to make the best out of it.

***

Anselm and I stalk out the empty roads at night. There are very few people up this late. Drinking men and the guards at the fence that surrounded the village mostly, but none disturbed or took note of us, chalking us up to beggars, despite Anselm adorning armour.

Speaking of beggars, they seemed to disappear into…somewhere when the lights when out. I found none of the scruffy men and women in the alleys.

What we're looking for aren't beggars though. We scouted houses since the cemetery is never the place of anyone's death and no ghosts lingered around, ironic.

I'm like a ghostbuster searching for ghosts around the silent village but my growling stomach doesn't let me have too much fun with it.

It doesn't take long to find one, two or a whole gaggle of ghosts with a single use of Sense Death. This is the first time I've used Sense Death in the village proper.

"It's an old village." Anselm answers, "This is good though. Over the years this place has produced spirits that didn't want to move on for whatever reason, serves your purposes quite well I'd say."

"If they have any living relatives that is."

Since we can't have them gather around us as I'd like, Anselm and I have to split up and talk to them individually. But we both agree not to bother with the ones in armour; they would have died here before the village was even founded and was nothing more than another battlefield.

"Hello," I wave at one completely ignoring my existence and doing summersaults in the air. At my attention, he slips and takes a tumble that would have killed any living man.

He springs back to life and immediately starts talking a mile a minute. As Anselm had, I smile at the memory. Who would've thought that my ghost hating-self would be dependent on ghosts for my continued experience? Not me, that's for sure.

I raise my hand up and speak over the man. "Yes, I can see you. I cannot hear you. Answer me this spirit, do you have a living relative here? Nod if yes, shake your head if no."

The man shakes his head. Unfortunate. I walk past him, actually, I walk through him on my way to the next ghost.

I continue to do this on and on, marking the spots where I get a yes with a 'Yes' in English and leaving the others.

After talking with a whole three generations of family that lived in a single house only to get another no, I call it in for the night and head back to the spot where Anselm and I were to meet; with all the time I'd spent he'd run out of time.

I get back and summon him. "How many?"

"I got five." He sighs.

"I got six. There aren't many old families here huh."

"Well, it's not a town. It's a village, chances are the old families will move out or die out. Worse is they aren't even nobles; survival isn't likely."

"Whatever, let's get this over with. Take me to your five."

Eleven ghosts equal five silvers and fifty copper tokus. Better than nothing if we can convince their families to pay, either way, the night hasn't been a waste. I'm looking forward to the morning.