Chapter 803 News
"So it's here…" Aubrey muttered as she took a deep breath. She wasn't feeling scared, but she was feeling nervous since she had to ensure that she would capture the ghost and not scare it away or disperse it.
As Aubrey got closer to the voice, it suddenly disappeared and reappeared elsewhere. It was as if it was trying to play hide and sick with her…
'Should I just use my spells---No, no… This is my first job. Also, if I used that, I would be a laughing stock if someone learned about it! Ugh… I have to finish this using the method of a Paranormal Investigator! ' Aubrey thought…
Furthermore, aside from dispersing the ghost, she also had other tasks as part of the process as a Paranormal Investigator. She wasn't here as an Exorcist or as Dark Magician after all.
Hours turned into a night of vigil, where Aubrey's equipment flickered with activity, capturing voices from the ether and images of ethereal figures.
By dawn, she had gathered enough evidence to piece together the story of Wraithwood Manor.
"The Lady of the House," Aubrey explained to the Donnellys, "was a woman who lived here a century ago. She awaits her husband's return from war, not knowing he fell in battle. Your daughter's innocence allows her to see what we cannot."
The couple looked at each other and wasn't sure what to do with this information.
Mr. Donnelly approached Aubrey with a look of earnest concern.
"Ms. Hall, what should we do first? How do we begin to help her find peace?"
Aubrey turned to the couple, her expression one of gentle assurance.
"The Lady of the House has been waiting for a century, lost in her own sorrow. We need to create a ceremony that symbolizes her husband's return from war, to let her know that her wait is over."
Mrs. Donnelly, moved by the story, nodded in agreement.
"What do you need us to do?"
"We'll gather items that would have been significant to her—a uniform similar to what her husband would have worn, a letter of love and return, and a photograph that represents their reunion," Aubrey explained.
"These tokens will act as anchors to help her spirit understand that it's time to move on."
Aubrey explained… Perhaps, if a Necromancer came here, they wouldn't bother to do such a ritual and take the ghost forcefully. However, as a Paranormal Investigator, this is one of the few things she learned and should be done to the lost spirits…
The couple listened intently, hanging on every word.
"And the whispers, the cold... will they stop?" Mrs. Donnelly asked, hope flickering in her eyes.
Aubrey placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Yes, once she realizes that her husband's spirit has been at rest, she too will find the peace she's been longing for. The disturbances you've experienced are manifestations of her grief and her longing. By resolving her story, we'll bring calm to the manor."
With Aubrey's guidance, the Donnellys set about gathering the items needed for the ceremony. As they did, the house seemed to watch, the air tinged with an expectant stillness.
When all was prepared, Aubrey led a poignant ritual in the upper chamber.
She read the letter aloud, her voice echoing with compassion. The uniform was laid out neatly, and the photograph was placed in a frame beside it.
As the words of the letter reached the corners of the room, a soft glow filled the space.
The temperature rose gently, and the whispers ceased.
A sense of completion, of a story finally reaching its end, permeated the manor.
The Donnellys, standing hand in hand, could feel the change.
The weight of years lifted, and the house—now free of its spectral inhabitant—felt like a home once more.
Aubrey Hall had not only solved the mystery but had also healed a century-old wound. After receiving her payment, she packed her tools to leave…
With the morning sun casting a warm glow over the horizon, she made her way back to the quaint inn that served as her temporary abode.… It was time to return to her inn…
After a hearty breakfast and a much-needed hour of rest, she felt rejuvenated.
A quick wash refreshed her further, and soon she was boarding the train to the larger town where her office awaited.
The journey was brief, a mere 20 minutes of scenic views passing by her window before she arrived. Stepping off the train, Aubrey made her way down Lantern Street, a cobblestone road lined with a charming array of shops and homes that exuded a welcoming atmosphere.
Her office, which also served as her house, was nestled among them—a small two-story building with a sign that read
"Aubrey Hall: Paranormal Investigations."
She really liked this sign, and she couldn't help but smile while reading it…
The office was a reflection of Aubrey herself—organized, inviting, and filled with an air of mystery.
The ground floor served as her workspace, shelves lined with books on the supernatural, artifacts from past cases, and a desk cluttered with notes and research.
Upstairs was her private sanctuary, a cozy living space that offered comfort after long nights of ghostly encounters.
Upon entering, Aubrey noticed the newspaper that had been delivered to her doorstep. She carried it inside, curiosity piquing as she unfolded it to reveal the day's headlines:
"Demon Possession: A Terrifying Ordeal in Eastwick"
"Smog Crisis: The Choking Reality of Our Cities"
"The Future is Bright: Breakthrough in Clean Coal Technology"
"Workers Rejoice: Minimum Wage Sees Historic Increase"
As she skimmed through the articles, her attention was suddenly captured by a headline that stood out from the rest:
"Mystic Soul Tower Opens Its Doors: Challenge Awaits in the Immortal's Forest!"
Aubrey's eyebrows raised in surprise. The Mystic Soul Tower, a place of legend and trials, had always been remote and inaccessible to many Arcanists. But now, it was open to those daring enough to face its challenges, and it had been relocated to the Immortal's Forest—a place she knew all too well because it was literally a place where a living Immortal resided!
She read the news carefully and realized that even the age restriction was loosened… Anyone aged 30 and below could now enter!
'It's not like I'm participating…' She thought to herself as she set aside the newspaper.
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