Why do they call it passion? Is this it? If it is, it doesnt live up to the creation of my mind.

They should get

rid of the word passion and replace it with do-it-anyway. My do-it-anyway is writing. Your do-it-
anyway is eating food.

I wanted to throw up. That was, of course, after returning to Earth. Pumpkin and chicken
managed to taste good with the freshness of the nearby farmland and the spices mixed by a high-level
chef. I was perplexed, however. We had gotten hungry on our ride over and the casserole they served
sated that hunger. I wanted to know whether the food in my stomach would follow me across the astral
plane. There were strange properties at play between Auroron and Earth. Spray paint on the outside of
my body hadnt followed me back to Earth. I saw no reason food inside of my body should have stayed
with me either.

My mind was filled with the conundrums of a newbie planeswalker as we casually strolled past a
busy guard post on the far side of the city. Customs officers were much stricter about entering the city
than they were about leaving, so we didnt even have to turn invisible. The sun had made its exit and
Aurorons two moons had taken the stage in the middle of the sky. They were far away from each other
one was a crescent and the other was almost full. The stars in the sky were abundant. In Denver,
seldom could you see a star unless you were outside of the city. In Molkento, there was no light
pollution to try and usurp the skyline from the cosmos.

Please! You must send guards to help them! They cannot survive out in the wild! A crying woman
pleaded with a raised voice.

Do we have a manic who can dispel illusions? A skeptical guard asked.

Theyd still be in consecrated land, even if theyre not inside the walls. Seldom do animals come close
to the city. Another unconvinced guard elaborated, trying to calm the woman.

From a glance, the woman was not a pauper. She had a pendant around her neck and a dress
that would have been reserved for special occasions. From what I could gather, more than one child had
gone missing outside of the city. I wondered how she knew they had left the city walls.

If we find them, would we help them? Joe asked. He was already wrestling with the morality of the
situation.
I guess. If theyre dead, I dont exactly want to be the one to inform her, though.

As we casually strolled through the railing that led us underneath the gate of the city, we heard
her scream.

That manor is haunted!

Look Joe, were about to improve the manors style. If they see our art all over the front of the house,
nobody will be afraid of it anymore. Theyll laugh instead of being afraid.

Yeah, its like were doing a collab with the ghost of Ponderpatch.

Joe and I laughed. I felt a hint of competition in our laughs because it was louder than the
chuckles we usually have. It was another instance of feeling like the quintessential corporate drone I
always rag on in my moments of existential crisis. Half my mind wandered towards the possibility of our
escapades going to my head. I brushed it off as we noticed a pathway into a forested area less than five
minutes outside of the gate. We would have been able to see the gate had it been daytime. The
pathway turned from dirt with rocks on the sides into smooth stone. The lack of give the path had
characterized it like concrete. Had we been on Earth, I would have sworn it were a gray concrete.

As soon as the path began, it had ended. Hidden from view right behind the trees was the
manor of Count Ponderpatch. The metal gate with spiked arrowheads that guarded his property gave
him away as a recluse. The person who lived in the mansion behind the overgrown grass and landscape
of weeds was rumored to have died alone from failing health. A leafless tree that had rope irreversibly
intertwined within its branches had snapped in half and fell into the spiked fence. In the dark, I had
mistaken a thorned vine for a snake and let out a yelp. Joe elbowed me as he giggled.

I hope Ponderdick melts your face and then eats your soul. I grumbled.

If he did, Id scream like you just did! He retorted. He imitated me.

Dark gray brick was visible in the moonlight. I always daydreamed about what it would be like to
venture far into a forest or far over a mountain to find abandoned places like these. Disappointment
arose when I calculated that Joe Jacks house was probably further away from my apartment than this
place was from Molkento. We were no more than five trees deep into the forest before we made it to
the mansion. The muted red roof was failing rays of moonlight entered the attic and even the covered
ceiling was lacking a full coat of shingles. Windows were covered with boards, the left-hand door to the
main entrance was hanging at an angle and canopies have been ripped to shreds by the elements. The
smell that accompanied it was best described as rotten grass. It was wild, but stagnant in the way
overgrowth seems to choke out the intent of nature. The estate was abandoned and it was likely nobody
had ever checked on Ponderpatch since his demise.

I began shaking my can.

No point in remembering some dead loser alien. Cmon Jack, lets get rolling!

He laughed and joined in. We drew phalluses, we drew Olympic rings, we drew happy faces,
crying faces, faces with their tongues out. I caught a grip on one of the bricks with a big enough foothold
underneath to draw swastikas over two second story windows. I tried streaming paint into the broken
over tree to little effect. I left a stream of paint to help me find my way back to the front entrance. Joe
had drawn an anarchy sign, a flower, some faces, and a pooping dog. He took my can from out of my
hand to shade the dog and put stench marks over the pile of poop. The entire process felt like deviant
masturbation. It felt wrong, but chemicals were firing like fireworks in my brain. Even if the house was
abandoned, the smell of spray paint smelled like destruction of property.

After we had been satisfied throwing rocks, spraying paint, and peeing on the bricks, we stood in
front of the entrance huffing and puffing. I put my arm over Joe Jacks shoulder.

Fuck Count Ponderpatch! I celebrated.

Fuck em!

You understand that we have to go inside now, right?

Ill beat you there.

We both made a dash to the door. Joe Jacks got a massive head start and thats the only reason
his hand barely touched the door first. I kicked the door that was hanging by a single hinge. It made a big
noise, but it ultimately stayed attached to the door frame. I barged in without concern for stealth,
subtlety, or physically turning invisible.

Daddys home, kiddies! I shouted.

Nothing but a fail gust of wind flew through the house. Joe stifled a mortified look on his face as
a waft of decaying construction overcame us. The mansion was designed symmetrically. There was a
staircase leading away to the rest of the interior on either side of the foyer. A chain-link chandelier had
fallen to the ground and left the wax of candles smeared across the floor. Our exploration became a lot
easier because of the debris one of the two walkways to the stark left had been overcome with the
fallen wall above it. The rightmost staircase had fallen through and made for treacherous terrain. Weeds
had begun to grow up through the wooden flooring, which brought into question the stability of the
building.

Does it give you the creeps, Evan? Joe asked.

Until I see the literal ghost of Count Ponderpatch, Im going to be okay.

Straight in front of us, we could hear the squeaking of rats. Joe gathered the courage to walk
forward. He became invisible to look past what we could see from our first step into the mansion. As he
came back, his face was visibly puckered.

I dont know how his house was intended to look, but he has railing that overlooks a pit of rats dozens
of them.

As he said that, we could hear a creature moving in the periphery. To the right, a large snake
came around the corner. As Joe jumped to run back out of the mansion, I grabbed him by the shoulder.

This is our chance to be different! I roared.

I yanked on his arm and began running for the left side staircase. Joe was inspired like I was, he
found his resolve and followed me. I could hear creaking of the staircase telling us that it didnt want to
bare weight ever again, but we ignored it as we made it to the second floor, hoping to have evaded the
footless snake who should have had trouble climbing steps. We were introduced to a long corridor with
a multitude of rooms on either side. As we looked up, the ceiling was crumbling with rays of moonlight
shining into the path.

I have the sinking feeling that well wake up before we make it out of this place. Joe murmured.

No, we have to find a spooky portrait or an heirloom that we can parade around town. Lets try to
accomplish the least of vandalism since were already here.

As we continued walking forward, we noticed a distinct blue glow coming from a door on the
left. The same blue glow radiated from another door further down.

I swear if thats the ghost of Ponderpatch, Im punching you in the face. Joe grimaced.

I could feel my arm become heavy as I reached for the door. Not to be outdone by my illusory
senses, I yanked on the knob and threw the door open. I felt equal parts heroic and foolish, even though
nothing about Auroron was real to me. As we looked inside, we noticed that we had entered a ballroom.
There was a wooden floor and portraits dashed across the walls. Some of them were still hanging, some
of them were lopsided, and some of them had fallen. The source of the blue glow was a lit brazier in the
middle of the room. I couldnt imagine the function of an open flame if people were supposed to dance
right next to it, but my thoughts took a quick digression to watch out for the next critter that was going
to jump out at us.

As we began to scope out the portraits, seeing if any hit a proper note of spooky that we could
vandalize and bring back to Molkento, we noticed that the brazier began popping more than normal. As
we looked back, the refraction from the tips of the burning blue flame began to stand out just as much
as the flame. I thought it was my imagination until it obstructed my view of Joe who was on the other
side of it. The clear image began to take form as it became more human and sentient. Out from the
flame came a translucent apparition of a person. As soon as I saw the visage separate from the flame, a
bright blue face shot up directly into my face.

To what do I owe the honor? He said with bass in his voice.

I jumped up and ran backward. I heard Joe scream. As I had made some distance, I closed my
eyes. I felt a sharp pain on my shoulder. Looking back at it, the ghost had his face right over my
shoulder.
Youre not a talkative young man, are you?

My bad, I didnt hear the question. I mocked him as I sighed.

My inquiry was as to the reason you are currently on my property.

Instead of his voice cracking, it would sometimes raise in pitch as if the voice and the see-
through creature that came with it were going to float off our plane of existence.

These nuts, bitch! I blurted out.

I was all in on being spontaneous on uncaring. I tried throwing and elbow check on the side that
I felt the pain coming from, but my joint hit the wall and bounced off. I looked back to find the ghost,
but he wasnt there.

My deepest apologizes for my egregious error. You appear to be more of a simpleton than you look. Let
me rephrase my intention: fuck off, kid!

I took out my spray paint and I fired it off over my shoulder. I heard a grunt with an ethereal
tone and I knew I had hit him. The ghost had his hands in his face. Some of the paint had splattered
behind him, but not all of it. I could see the spirit dressed in poufy aristocratic clothes. Buttons were
fashioned to his lapel and frill came out of his sleeves. He had a large belt buckle, but he was missing
feet. His legs fell into nothingness and he floated. Since he was incapacitated, I saw an opportunity to
reunite with Joe Jacks. I ran across the ballroom and found him. He took his fist and hooked me across
the cheek.

I told you Ponderpatch would haunt our shit. If he follows us-

Youre here for the altar, arent you? Youre filthy eldritch walkers, arent you?! He angrily accused.

Are you Count Ponderpatch? Joe asked. He took a painful swallow after feigning confidence.
Yes, and if youre here for more torture, I have violent disagreement about how this will transpire,
eldritch!

Where is your altar? I queried in a dramatic tone.

You give yourself away, little puppet! Return to your own plane and never return! He groaned. His
ghostly words and otherworldly appearance made him the scariest being I had ever seen.

I thought quickly and with intuition. I had one secret on me that I felt might work. I made an
assumption about the ghost as well. The combination of the two assumptions left me feeling bleak
about my capacity, but I went with it anyway. I took my lighter out of my pocket and nudged Joe,
handing it to him.

Cover me, Joe! I shouted.

I vanished and began to flee the room. Before I could make it to the door, Ponderpatch showed
up in front of me. He could see me through my invisibility and he looked gruesome and morbid. He had
materialized in monochromatic blue. Ribs hung out from his clothes, his flesh had decayed, and bone
stuck out from behind his overcoat. Rotten human liquids dripped onto the floor as he laughed with his
ghoulish, rattling voice. I fell to the floor, screaming hysterically. I had completely lost my cool. It wasnt
like waking after seeing Kealii for the first time where I had an upset stomach. I was no longer in control
of myself. I was reduced to screaming as loudly as I could with no plan and a puddle of consciousness
trying to rationalize the blue zombie drooling over me.

As the ghoulish aberration climbed over me, I head him groan and gasp. I became visible
immediately as if I was able to breathe after being trapped under a boulder. Ponderpatch became
ethereal and his translucent body became regal again. Joe Jacks, on the other side, had the lighter up to
the Counts hindquarters and he reacted dramatically to the fire. We sprinted away as fast as we could.
We made a break for the entrance with one of the portraits.

Waaaaaaah! The ghostys gonna get me. Joe snorted, breaking his sprint for a running pace.

Youre such an idiot! I guffawed. I hope Patchface feeds you to his disease-ridden rats.
 We made a hurried shuffle down the stairs, but Ponderpatch was waiting at the entrance.

Dont turn invisible, Joe.

Dont turn invisible, Joe! Joe reiterated. He mocked me like a child.

The ghost laughed. In one hand he had a handkerchief that he was using the polish the blade of
a rapier he had in his other hand. As I got a good look at his face, I noticed his hair had been well-kept
brushed to the side. He sported a handlebar mustache that had been decayed when he was
materialized.

Fire? Well, now the stakes are raised, young ones. I dont know what sort of second rate, gutter-trash
altar youre using, but clearly you know enough to bring toys with you. If you turn invisible again, I will
open up your astral ties.

Did you spray paint his face, Evan?! Joe questioned worriedly.

He was worried that I had crossed out pact to not harm the people and instead, just the art.

Hes otherworldly, even for Auroron. Just trust me, I know it.

All is fair in this, the only good fight, I understand. Know that my wise eyes see you two the way you
see me. Ponderpatch quizzed.

I have no idea what youre saying! Im an artist, just let me take your things. Youre dead, you dont
even need them. I bargained.

Yes, the two luckiest artists in the world. If youre already here, you may want to share some of that
luck with the two little jewel thieves in the basement. They probably dont do as well with snakes as you
two.
I-

Shh shh shh Ponderpatch interrupted.

We could hear squeaking from rats. In the faintest noise, we heard the screams of two kids. In a
crosslinking of eyes in front of a ghost, all sense of safety and immorality washed away from us as we
took heed of our instinct to save the children. Joe waved the lighter at Ponderpatch as we sidled by him
in the main foyer to the stairwell downward into the basement. We noted that we were heading to a
dimly lit corridor that the snake had been lurking in. Undaunted by this, we kept a spry pace and a little
flicker of light from the lighter lit our way. We made our way down the stairs and we had both agreed to
become ethereal. At the last step down, we could hear the piercing yelling of young children. We both
called out to them.

Where are you?!

Are you okay?!

We got feedback in the form of a shrieking request.

Light our touch!

Around the corner of the staircase into the basement, a large stick was flung over the railing to
our feet. As we lit it, we smelled the chemicals igniting off the cloth at the end of the torch and it
illuminated the room. The ceiling and the walls were covered in webs. There was an infestation of
spiders and there were spiders that seemed small that scurried away from the light. We looked over the
railing of the staircase to see the two children cornered by the snake from earlier. Its monochromatic
blue scales were accentuated by glowing blue eyes that were reminiscent of Ponderpatchs gaze. The
pile of snake was wider than me and coiled on the ground with its head up.

Im not disappearing from this! I dont care anymore! I roared.

Before I had a chance to think it through, I took the torch and jumped in between the children
and the snake. I waved the stick of flame at the snake. The lack of reaction from the snake made me
regret the statement I just made with every fiber of my body that was overcome with chills.
Ponderpatch began to glow, coming out of the far side of the room.
You may have come of age, but you are still a child of this world and your own. Ponderpatch mused. I
will suck the marrow of your bones, puppets. I may be dead, but I will take you with me!

A long-legged spider began to crawl out from the shadow. Ponderpatch went back into the
shadow. The spider was up to waist height, even with its legs bent towards its torso. I heard it hiss and I
had to consciously stop panic from setting in.

Please save us!

I dont want to die!

You can have our treasure, just save us!

The children were sobbing the same way I was screaming earlier. I was paralyzed, I didnt want
to leave the children, but I didnt know what to do about the snake that chilled my soul past freezing.
With a sudden flash of light, fire burst out from the staircase. It illuminated gems from the far side of the
room and left embers on the ground. I looked up to see Joe with the lighter in one hand and the spray
paint in the other. He rattled the can and shouted out my name. I followed suit. I took my spray paint
from underneath my travelers robe and took aim at the snake who hadnt struck yet. I fired a warning
spray. I sprayed paint past the torch and it created a flamethrower. I could hear the skittering of spiders.
We had to be careful of burning the house down. The snake seemed to recoil from the flamethrower. I
spat it out once more at the snakes face and took a step forward. It seemed to challenge me, so I
readied my aim again. The snake put its head down in recognition. I took another step forward and put
out a spritz of fire. The snake began slithering back into the shadows. I saw Joe put out another strike
that began burning the giant spider. It curled up like it had been exposed to poison until finally its legs
shrunk back towards the head.

Arent you late for an appointment in hell, you ghost prick?! I taunted.

I knew better than to press my luck with two children behind me, but I was already on a roll. I
had been courageous, snarky, and, to top it off, I had a battle rage circulating in my veins. My eyes felt
alert and my limbs felt free to move. Joe began walking back up the stairs, but I stopped him.

Wait! The altar!

What about it?! He snarled.

I just have a feeling.

Wait for us outside! Joe instructed the kids.

They scurried back up the stairs. We used the torch to make a beeline to the back of the room
where we saw the glint of gems. To no surprise, Ponderpatch was sitting with his legs crossed on the
altar. The altar had the same pattern as the one in Tenthalia. Emeralds shards were encircling a jug in
the middle. Unlit candles were placed in the four corners and patterns of gemstones marked the outside
of the stone base. It was smaller, but it served as a fine stool for the ghost.

Do you really think yourself stronger, smarter, braver, fiercer, more merciless than any civilization
spanning back eons? Count Ponderpatch asked.

Let me see the altar. I instructed.

I pointed the spray paint and torch at the ghost, Joe put his flamethrower up too.

Attune yourself to this and you will feel freer than you ever have, but you will be evermore ensnared by
forces you cannot even comprehend.

I made a spray of fire at the ghost. He jumped back into the wall. He slowly merged with it,
showing less and less of his ghostly form as he left the room.

You two - none of you will get away with this. I will sacrifice everything!

I hesitated after the ghost put his curse upon us. I wanted to talk it over with Joe before we took
actions we might have regretted, but I saw him move at the same moment I would have reacted. He
grabbed the altar and me at the same time. He turned invisible and I felt a surge of extraordinary energy
overcome me. My vision went white as I tried to come to an understanding of the depersonalized world
I had gone to. Soon after it started, the white vanished again and I was in a spider and snake infested
basement.

Did any of this make sense to you? I puzzled.

Not a bit, so looks like weve got some more exploring to do.

But were still the bad guys, right?

Nope, were just improving the art as we go. Joe snidely remarked.

I bumped Joes fist as we ran out of the basement and back up the stairs to finally leave the
haunted mansion. Joe comforted the kids while I took the portrait. We made out way back out of the
courtyard which still reeked of paint. We couldnt see the blue glow from the caved in ceiling where the
ballroom had been. If we never saw that haunted manor again, then it would be too soon.

The way back to Molkento was short and uneventful. Th children were tired, hungry, and thirsty.
They wouldnt share the treasure they found with us. We ended up having to carry them, so I had the
portrait in my hand and a child on my back as we walked. We had made it back to the gate when we saw
an angry crowd of people yelling at the guards.

Mommy! One of them shouted.

He went running back to his mother. She was directly facing the guard and the one at the front
of the group. When she saw her child, we were able to view from a distance her kneeling and picking
him up. As we got closer, we saw her crying and hugging her son. The same followed suit for the other
child. The people went passed the guards and met us at the entrance to Molkento.

You two! You are my heroes! I am more worried for this child than I am for my own life! The mother
gushed.

The crowed of thirty people strong was cheering for us.

They found them!

What selfless people!

Heroes!

I almost felt bad for them. Joe elbowed me in the side and we exchanged glances. The heroes of
Molkento were about to become the terrors of Molkento.