Trick or treat, Bag of Sweets, Ghosts are walking down the street~

-- Later that day--

The day was nice and the weather fair. At least that is what a normal mage, or any person, would've recognized at least. The wraith, of course, had no care for either weather conditions or temperature. Even the concept of seasons and the associated change of the land was somewhat lost on him. Cassius lived in the moment, metaphorically speaking, of course. The wraith had died long ago. Value, however, was a concept that he could recognize. Ever since he had become, well, "employed", for the lack of a better term, he had made significant progress. His new employer hadn't been lying when he'd promised the wraith work and the associated rewards not too long ago, although there were set stipulations put in place. Cassius was not to speak of the organization that he had associated with. An easy task for the ghost, considering Cassius barely ever spoke. Communicating with and understanding mortals, however, was still a feat. The creatures were as much an alien existence to him as he would undoubtedly be to them.

That aside, Cassius had indeed been busy, returning from a fulfilled contract, not in the dark armor that his employer had provided, but his own. Outside of work, he had been assured, he would be his own being still, something that Cassius was indifferent to, but he followed the command without question. While fulfilling whatever contract he had been bound to he was Revenant. Now? Well, now he was simply Cassius. A mercenary, as they would call it. A man without a face or past. Someone who minded his own business unless bothered. A rule to live by. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

The road to Crocus had become familiar by now, the wraith preferring to travel on foot if he could at all help it. He did not tire and had little concept of time, so the need for transportation escaped Cassius, the entity possessing the armor simply walking wherever he needed to be unless ordered otherwise. It was today that his quirk presented him with an unusual twist. Something that the wraith did not come across often was ghastly energy, the familiar sensation of undeath that he felt within himself, the dust of the road beneath his feet scattering faintly when he stopped, the head of the armor turning to his side. He sensed ... one living being, not too far away, surrounded by what he perceived to be a single, writhing mass of undeath.

Although the mortal interested him very little, the thing that radiated with unnatural, unholy magic much like himself did pique his interest. A lot. Something the wraith did not experience often. Perhaps this thing that presented an entity much like himself would give him answers he desired, he needed, answers about his own existence, and, in what came close to something akin to hope, a notion also lost on Cassius, provide him with information about his own past.

The wraith turned unceremoniously, facing the source of undeath before beginning to jog towards it, paying little mind to the other presence, the armor ringing with metallic sounds with every step. By the time he had gotten close, he could now sense more clearly what had been the cause of his interest: Birds. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of them, surrounding the mortal ever-so-steadily before ultimately, the undead swarm seemed to decide that it had amassed enough forces. Cassius could sense it clearly, a desire that he did not share. Ravenous hunger for both flesh and soul. At once, the massive murder of crows soared upwards before turning mid-air, seeking to dive down upon the other presence to undoubtedly begin picking away at them until nothing was left.

No. He couldn't allow that. Cassius had questions he demanded answers for. If there was only the slimmest of chances that the mortal was somehow connected to this phenomenon he had to intervene. Magic surged through the armor, expelled from his formless existence that inhabited the cold chunks of metal and leather into the arms of the suit, a bow materializing in his grasp at the same time as a deep, ghastly echo burst from the inside of the armor, loud enough for the human to hear.

"Down!", the command was clear.

With magically enhanced swiftness and trained accuracy he aimed the bow upwards, an arrow magically created within as he pulled back the string before hastily firing it off. The projectile was nigh alight with magical power, and when it made contact with the first of the crows the unstable force ruptured apart, resulting in a massive, fiery explosion in the sky. The flock was consumed by blue, ghastly flame and scorching heat entirely, shrieks ringing out en masse before finally, silence. The scent of burnt flesh and feathers filled the air, charred avians falling from the sky in a rain of ash, with Cassius lowering the bow, waiting for a few moments to see if there was anything else to perceive. If the human, a girl, from what he could tell, had survived, then he had a few questions for her ...

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Word Count: 849 / 1,500

The mortal was acting strangely, expressing gratitude at the display of Cassius' magic. The causality that connected these two events, the use of magic and the expression of gratitude, naturally escaped the wraith. To him, it was clear that he had acted on an impulse, following his own desires, and as such, he had a hard time understanding why she was thankful for that. Humans were extremely unpredictable creatures. Cassius elected to think not much more of it, simply tilting the head of the armor towards her when addressed. Perhaps now was the best moment to bring forward the questions he had reserved for later, although Cassius began to doubt. The way she expressed her surprise and what he interpreted to be discomfort led him to believe that her presence here was a coincidence. So much for investigating the mystery of his existence. Although the opportunity seemed to have passed, though, Cassius felt no disappointment, or anything else, for that matter. It was simply what it was.

There was something else, though. The presence from earlier had been weakened, and while the undead energy that replaced the creatures' life force had dimmed considerably, it had not been extinguished. No, quite the opposite. It began to flare up anew, coalescing towards a single point in space, the remaining shards of undead magic drawn towards each other to form something new. It was to be expected. The crows turned into a form that was better adapted to what their undead essence perceived as a threat, something that Cassius could understand. He would have done and regularly did the same thing, after all. In this case, the wraith presented an obstacle that the creature had to overcome to get to its meal, the mortal. It was likely that it would pursue Cassius, meaning he had no other chance but to engage it.

"Undead ... still alive ... stay back ... out of ... the way", the rusty, hoarse voice echoed outwards from inside the steel armor once more.

Cassius reckoned that this would be enough to get the girl to get out of the immediate vicinity of what would undoubtedly become a small skirmish, the thought that the mortal could be a mage not even occurring to him in the slightest. If she had any powers to speak of, he was sure, she would have already used it to defend herself or annihilate the threat to her safety. It was the logical thing to do. A logic Cassius intended to follow.

Dropping the bow, the weapon vanished back into the dark pocket space that held his collection, the wraith extending a single hand forward. With a bright glow of azure arcane force, an axe materialized in his grasp, the bird creature, now fully formed, unleashing a shrieking scream before charging towards him. The mortal had already left his immediate thoughts, his entire being and consciousness focussing on the beast before him as he readied himself, greeting the hulking form of the undead monstrosity with a wide, forceful swing of his weapon.

The blade of the axe sunk deep into the flesh of its shoulder, cleaving through the undead form with relative ease. That, however, did little to halt the creature's momentum, the undead body slamming into Cassius' armor with crashing force, lifting him and the suit of metal he possessed off the ground and launching him several feet back into the cold dirt, his weapon remaining stuck within the creature's side. Of course, there was no cry of pain or daze from the impact, as Cassius was incapable of feeling either. Instead, he lifted himself back up immediately, a quick sprinting dash towards the creature seemingly surprising the beast. Cassius, thanks to the fact he was not inhibited by the limitations of a mortal body, was surprisingly nimble and fast, no flesh slowing down the movements of the armor. He ducked underneath a wide swing of the creature, pulling free his axe before spinning around, rising to his full height behind the creature. With one determined leap, Cassius jumped onto it's back, gripping the feathered body for support before bringing the weapon down once more, the blade steeped in the same deeply azure glow than before. With an explosion of light-blue arcane sparks and thick, onyx-hued blood spurting from the undead's body, the wraith smashed the weapon into the back of its head, the blade partially emerging from the other side of the skull. Ungracefully, the thing's limbs fell groundward, the body that was now dead for good slumping to the dirt below as the life force of its undead existence was brutally destroyed.

... Or at least, that was what Cassius had hoped for. He could feel the presence still, the essence of the thing he had just killed instead simply seeping into the ground below, traveling through the earth at a rapid pace as it dashed away towards another position. Unburdened by the wear and tear of combat, Cassius calmly followed the movements, sensing it coming to a stop just moments later.

In the other direction a good few dozen feet away from the wraith and possibly the mortal a scarecrow would suddenly spring to life, invigorated with and possessed by undead essence, an unstable soul that would be merciless in the pursuit of its goal. It appeared like whatever Cassius was fighting was much like him. Perhaps they could reach some kind of understanding?

"What ... are you?", the wraith's dull voice rang out again, driven by a morbid sense of curiosity.

His question was not met with an answer, however. Instead, the scarecrow, its eyes alight with glowing blue magic, cackled ferociously, seeming to take after Cassius. It reached out, summoning a scythe into its grasp. The wraith cocked his head. His opponent was awfully versatile and extremely adaptive, traits that Cassius, in his own twisted way, viewed as admirable, desirable even. Not to mention that these traits made the undead existence an immense threat to mortal and wraith alike. It was almost a shame that the thing viewed him as an enemy. He had questions he wanted answered, after all. Still, he would not hesitate. The situation was clear. It was either him or the other ...

... and he would not be the one to lose.

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Word Count: 1,898 / 1,500

Extending his hand one more time, Cassius' formless being expelled magical force one last time, a lance forming in his grasp, two blades of metal twisted around an axis in a double helix, coming to a dual point. One of his most prized possessions, and one of the most powerful at that. The creature only cackled again, lifting the scythe, readying itself for anything that would come its way. Now that communication did not seem like any kind of option anymore, Cassius had given up. The chance that he would actually receive the information he desired here was arguably negligible. No, today there would only be space for destruction, it seemed. And destroy the entity he would. His own ghastly essence began to glow, a flaming red orb flaring up within his armor. The wraith drew energy from the one and only true emotion he was capable of feeling clearly, the unending wrath within his soul, his very essence supplying him with a constant stream of power. The lance in his grasp, at first slowly, then aggressively began pulsing with magical energy, burning, the metal beginning to glow with scorching heat.

Cassius' own undead form twisted, almost unnaturally so as he took a step back, building momentum before hurling the lance towards his foe, releasing the projectile with a shockwave of magical force. Barreling towards the scarecrow, the monster raised the scythe to block the lance, although, of course, not knowing about the lance's property. The projectile twisted, slamming into the scythe and boring straight through both the weapon and the undead, the scarecrow's form flashing with white flame briefly before exploding in holy fire, the magic destroying its existence entirely, Cassius, with a snap of his fingers, calling back the weapon into his own grasp before sending it back to the pocket space he commanded. It was at that moment he turned, witnessing the light show that the mortal girl was putting on with expressionless stance, simply looking at her irrational display of magical force. If she had that many magical reserves to spare why had he even fought in the first place? It was highly illogical. Still, it didn't feel like wasted time. He had gotten to hone his skills, after all, though missing the chance to gather information about himself. It was of little matter, regardless.

Lost in his own thoughts the wraith barely registered the girl stopping, turning his head once again only as he was addressed. When asked for his name, the wraith cocked his head, the rusty voice ringing out like a hoarse whisper again.

"Cassius", he responded simply, paying barely any mind to her idle chatter.

Still, it seemed the mortal had a request for him, asking him to remove the helmet. Cassius knew not what kind of purpose this act was supposed to fulfill. Was that some kind of custom among mortals? If the wraith had any desire to shrug, he would have done so, reaching for the helmet of the armor and lifting it up, revealing the empty space beneath, holding the helmet up for a few passing moments before placing it back on the armor's shoulders. The meaning of this gesture escaped him, but the request hadn't come at any disadvantage to him anyway. It was of no matter. Cassius, however, wasn't here to loiter around. He had to report back to his employer. Without another word, the wraith simply turned away towards Crocus, intent on following his original path undisturbed.

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Word Count: 2,479 / 1,500