Lost Souls: 2

Yes, there was more. Always there was more. It was just one of those things about autumn. With the changing of the seasons came the thinning of the veil, and for Cersul and Bren that meant more work than usual. Once again the two were winging their way through the skies, chasing after the little blue spirits as they made the most of their opportunity to visit those people and places they knew when they were still residing in the world of the living.

It was hard for Cersul or Bren to blame them, really. When things get dark and cold one wants to be where it's warm and light—especially if their loved ones were also there, and they both knew that. Being a spirit could get lonely at times, but that didn't mean that they belonged here any more. Their place was in the world of the dead. And so it was up to Bren and his ghostly-looking companion to round them up and send them back home, where they would wait until next year, so that they could do it all over again.

"We ... could give them a little more time," Bren offered.

We could. But then if we did, more would arrive while we waited for the ones already here to finish up their business. And then we would have even more work to do.

She was right, of course. While the guthanan were not particularly numerous, there was only one Cersul, and it was up to beings like her to ensure that what Bren's fellow guthanes dealt with on a regular basis was manageable, so as to ensure that they could carry out all of their duties.

"I ... suppose." He stared off into the distance where several spots of blue light danced. "We'd better get back to work, then."