♚
♚ - a memory of something paranormal
It wasn’t unusual for one to take a break from daily camp duties, especially following a Risen attack. For Ricken, his free time was spent with his nose in a tome, absorbing as much information as he could. Occasionally, he would learn a twist to some previously learned spell, or learn a tiny spell with no particular use.
Though there was one time where he could not quite explained what had happened. A cup of water would normally be at his side as he studied and practiced his spells, and he would take sips from it throughout these sessions. He would notice that his cup would be nearing empty, and a mental note would be made to refill it after he finished the chapter. But when he finished, the glass would be full once again.
"What in the world…?" Ricken’s brows furrowed as he stared at the cup.
"Oh, I filled it for you," came a voice, seemingly out of thin air.
This startled him, and Ricken snapped up his tome. "Who said that?"
"Ricken, it’s me!"
The voice sounded vaguely familiar. Was this a ghost? A dead relative haunting him now that he was meddling with dark magic thanks to Henry and Tharja?
Divine retribution?
"St-stay back!" he had stammered, before hurrying off.
Later that evening, he had heard stories from other Shepherds. Murmurs of a mysterious ghost who crept through the camp.