I fly up, as high as I can manage, feeling the wind rushing past me growing colder and colder, before I breach the cloud barrier. Ice crystals form with every beat of my wings, and my breath fogs, thicker than I’ve ever seen it in real life. Once I feel like I’ll freeze solid if I try to go any higher, I reach up, arms wide.

“LADY VOLTESSE! I BEG YOU, PLEASE HEED MY CALL! ANSWER ME, YOUR FAITHFUL SERVANT!”

Thunder rumbles, and I wait, shivering slightly. I don’t know how much longer I can handle the cold…

“What can I do for you, my faithful disciple?”

I sigh in relief as Voltesse’ face forms out of the high, thin white clouds. Lightning roils through her mist-horns, and her eyes flicker with fulmination.

I explain my predicament. “… so, you see, that’s why I contacted you. Can you help? Please?”

Voltesse laughs, her ethereally-formed face distorting briefly, and I almost get blown head over heels, re-orienting myself in mid-air. She forms a hand from more shreds of pure-white cloud.

“Oh, what the heck. I’ll do it! I want to see what happens, and this seems like it could have the potential to be interesting!”

A glowing light forms at the tip of Voltesse’s ‘fingertip’, and I fumble, pulling an empty potion bottle out of my inventory, as a shining drop of liquid lightning coalesces, hanging in the clear air. I scoop it up in my bottle, jamming the stopper back in. Voltesse smiles.

“Simply pour that droplet over the little spirit’s fingertip. She’ll know what to do. Though, I recommend you get some new wax. Try a bookkeeper’s shop or a lawhouse!”

Voltesse’s apparition vanishes, blowing apart into ribbons of fog. I upend myself, diving, stashing the bottle containing Voltesse’ gift away in my inventory. Wouldn’t do to lose this precious thing.

Swooping along the city streets, I look for anything that looks like a bookstore or lawhouse. A guard stares up at me as I cruise overhead, and I pause to shout down to her, asking for directions.

“Where’s the nearest bookstore or lawhouse to be found, please? It’s urgent!”

“W-well, the nearest lawhouse is only a few streets over. Look for the red frontage and the golden gavel marked on the door!”

I call down my thanks, dropping a pouch with a dozen ducats in for her as I rocket in the direction she indicated. Finding the building I was told about, I alight and knock on the door, my metal gauntlet dinging off the strike plate. An irritable elder woman opens the door, before her expression turns to one of confusion. I hold a hand up in greeting.

“Sorry to bother you at such an hour, but would you have some high-quality sealing wax available to purchase? The kind used on the most important legal documents?”

She purses her lips, and then holds up three fingers. “It’ll cost three hundred ducats. This stuff isn’t cheap, young lady! Why, this is made in very small batches, for the Courts of Supreme Law, the Grand College, and other institutes who require only the finest!”

I swiftly count the coin out in front of her, and shovel it into a bag, placing it in her hands.

“The price is no object; I just need it urgently, please!”

With a huff, she shuffles inside, coming back with a small packet. Inside are two sticks of deep carnelian. I thank the elderly woman profusely, clutching my purchase, and taking wing again, bee-lining straight for the Trevalli Manor and almost crashing with the force of my descent, as dawn begins to breach the horizon.

I barrel in through the door, and Asteria looks up guiltily, dropping the chunk of roof tile she was about to toss into the maelstrom of floating debris that Dorothea is levitating throughout the atrium. “I’m back! Astie, I need a flame. Not a big one, but enough to melt something. Do you also have a very small, sharp knife?”

I remove the deed from its protective scroll, unrolling it and taking the tiny knife Asteria tosses to me, sliding the blade under the old Trevalli seal adorning the bottom of the parchment. Dorothea winces and reaches instinctively for one of the remaining symbols of her family’s legacy. With the flame ready, I produce one of the sticks of sealing wax, melting the end and forming a decent-sized disk of fresh wax. Turning to Dorothea, I produce the bottle containing Voltesse’ boon.

“Give me your hand, Dorothea!” the authoritative tone in my voice brooks no argument. As she holds her right hand out, I tip the bottle, and the glowing bead of light falls. Instead of phasing through the spectral hand, it seems to be absorbed into it, and Dorothea gasps. Grabbing the deed, I hold it up to her.

“Voltesse said you’d know what to do!”

Silently, her eyes wide, Dorothea presses her thumb into the wax. The glow travels from her thumb, soaking into the wax, which begins to shift as the ghostly teen pulls her hand back. The Trevalli crest reappears shining and clean, the wax ringed with a pale golden light, as it solidifies, adhering to the parchment and binding.

The teenaged ghost looks up at me, eyes wide. “What… what did you do to me, Ms Kettrin???”

I smile. “Congratulations, Dorothea, you-”

“Eh-heh-HEM!”

A voice interrupts me, and I turn. Standing at the door is a well-dressed fat man with several exceptionally-pretty women in skimpy, revealing armour flanking him, swords at their narrow waists.

“Harrumph! About time! Do you know who I am? I am Viscount Leon Fitzwilliam the 14^th!”

Asteria and I look at each other, and she shrugs. I turn back and say, “My apologies, my lord Viscount. Is there something you need?”

 The man puffs himself up. “Indeed! I have been watching this house for some time, but, despite the request I arranged to be placed in every drinking-hole in the city, no-one has succeeded in proving that this… estate… is definitively NOT haunted, until now. And, when I received word that someone left carrying the deed case, I knew I had to make my move. Judging by your appearance, it is obvious you are the same wench who took my request. Now, if you would hand the deed over to me, I will pay you handsomely for it. I mean, what could someone like you want with a crumbling old ruin like this? I doubt you’ll find a better offer than mine! How does a thousand ducats sound? Make up your mind, I don’t have all day!”

I stare at him as he holds out his stubby-fingered hand imperiously. “Oh, the deed isn’t mine to give, my lord.”

The look of supercilious magnanimity on the viscount’s face fades, to be replaced with surly self-importance. Turning to Asteria, he harrumphs, “Then what about you?! Do YOU have some claim to the deed and the lands here?!”

Dana shakes her head, smirking as his face darkens. “Not me, ‘my lord’. I suggest you try again.”

As he starts fuming, I step to one side, as the adorable ghost looks up at me. I bow, indicating her.

“Viscount Fitzwilliam, but if I might introduce the actual owner of the deed to the estate, lands, and all titles and possessions hereby included? This is Duchess Dorothea Trevalli, only remaining scion of the noble House Trevalli!”

She stares at me. “Wh-what? Ms Kettrin…?”

I grin. “I had a word with a very important friend of mine, and she gave me that little drop of power. It confers all the status you had during your life, including your rank as nobility, your rights to hold property, and to re-establish House Trevalli once more!”

As the Viscount splutters and starts to boil over like an exceptionally-furious kettle, Dorothea’s face lights up, almost glowing brighter than her hitodama lights. Then, she turns her gaze on the viscount.

“Well, there you have it, Viscount Fitzwilliam. I have no desire to hand over my rights to my ancestral lands. And I’d very much like you to leave, please; I have much to do about setting my home to rights. Good day!”

A nasty look flashes across the viscount’s face. “You… you two filthy Argonauts… you have wronged me, and I WILL have my dues. As for YOU, ghost…. I want that deed, and I strongly recommend you hand. It. Over. Now. There’s a good little girl. Do as the adult says, and give me my property!”

As one, his guards’ swords are drawn from their sheathes. However, they aren’t the ones exposing steel. Dorothea’s face is still, elegant, and utterly cold, as she waves a hand, bringing the swords round, point-first, aiming them at the suddenly-sweating fat man.

“You… DARE… To address the Duchess of House Trevalli as though I were a mere child? I may be young, but I still remember that viscounts are almost at the bottom of the pecking order when it comes to social etiquette and weight. You… are barely out of the rank of baron, and I… I am a Duchess of an old and distinguished family. You come into my home, harangue my guests, and attempt to take that which does not belong to you. You will leave, and you will not set foot here again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes… my lady…” Viscount Leon bows, slowly and carefully, inching backwards, accompanied by his guards, as their swords follow, a sharp and pointed warning. Once they’re over the threshold of the gates to the domain, Dorothea lets the swords fall in a clattering heap. Picking them up, the noble and his entourage of barely-clad bimbos leave, with many a scowl and huff.

I smile at Dorothea. “You go, girl! Kickass!”

As she giggles and blushes, Dana grins. “I think we should make a plan, babe. Do you have Gimmel on your friends-list? I don’t really add many other players, thanks to my job as a streamer.”

I bite my lip and open my friends-list. “I have Marika, Harvenhaight, uh…. Genevieve, that Samurai girl from the big scorpion hunt… no Gimmel, though.”

Dana shrugs. “No matter, I can go get him faster than you. Don’t forget, I know how the Translocation Beacons work since you prefer to fly!”

I hold up a finger, about to protest, then lower it, pursing my lips. “Well… you DO have a point there. Okay, but be quick, I don’t trust that guy not to try again!”

As Dana runs out of the manor, I store the cracked, battered mace in my inventory, equipping my swordspear. Much better. I really should name it, shouldn’t I? Maybe I’ll come up with something good later. Right now, I have bigger fish to fry.

I keep an eye on Dorothea, sitting in the doorway, waiting for Dana to return from whatever errand she’s running that involves the Dwarven representative for the Hephaestus Consortium.  And why so suddenly?

As I muse on what could be on my girlfriend’s mind, I hear the sound of feet tromping along the street towards us. I stand, raising my shield and readying my swordspear in case that fat nobleman comes back.

The gates squeak open, and Asteria marches through, haloed by the risen sun, followed by a lot of men and women, mostly dwarves, but a fair number of humans, Alves, even a smattering of Andromal and Lizzara.

As I stare, Ulged looms over the back of the crowd. Dana grins cheekily. “Well, don’t just stand there, you degenerates, let’s bring back the glory days of this place! If you have any questions about aesthetics or design, talk to the Duchess! She’s the cutest ghost ever, and she’s the one you work for! If coin is an issue for materials or something, come to me! Get to it!” she claps her hands twice, and I move aside, staring as the construction teams form up, half discussing what the outside needs, the other half flooding indoors and starting to sweep up and tidy. Dusting, sweeping, marking the things that need replacing, even setting up trestle tables and stations to grab supplies based on what they might need.

The only thing I can say, as the Trevalli estate buzzes like an active beehive after a century of darkness and silence, is “… Holy shit.”