Aozaki Aoko [526-528] (Patreon)

Chapter 526: The Séance and the White Lady

Reinaldo was certainly not some strange cultist, and the séance he held was actually related to the name of this old inn.

The original founder of the White Lady Inn was the wife of a miser.

She originally ran the inn together with her husband (it wasn’t called the White Lady at that time), but for unknown reasons, she later passed away.

This left her miserly husband living in constant fear, terrified that his late wife’s spirit would come back to haunt him.

So, one day long ago, this miser packed his heavy chest of treasures and boarded a sailing boat.

He planned to flee with all his possessions, escaping from the inn that filled him with dread.

But sometimes, the more you fear something, the more likely it is to happen. His escape at sea ended in disaster.

The boat, weighed down by the chest, capsized and sank to the bottom of the lake.

As a result, those who inherited the inn believed the miser had encountered his wife’s spirit, causing the accident.

Over time, the inn’s name was changed to “The White Lady” to commemorate its first mistress.

As for its original name, it was long forgotten, and no one cared.

But what did Reinaldo’s séance have to do with the White Lady? His explanation was as follows:

“We live in dark times. Perhaps the kind-hearted White Lady’s spirit can help us? Don’t you want to hear what advice the original mistress of this inn might give?”

Such an odd reason nearly made Aoko lose her composure. In that instant, she realized the average knowledge level of a regular person in a magical medieval society. Still, she forced herself to hold back from commenting.

After all, Edgin had agreed to the request, seemingly quite interested in the “White Lady.”

“Wonderful!” Reinaldo exclaimed after Edgin agreed. “The séance will begin tonight at midnight. Please come to the first floor ten minutes early, and I’ll take you to the séance’s secret chamber!”

...No matter how you put it, it sounded like some kind of rural cult gathering, but the innkeeper himself didn’t seem like a bad person.

To ensure Edgin’s safety, Aoko and the others decided to accompany him to this odd séance tonight.

…

Around 11:45 PM, Aoko and the others followed Edgin to the inn’s main hall. Elderly women filled the seats, along with many old men who looked to be over fifty.

Aoko’s eyelids twitched, but since she hadn’t found any direct evidence of anything strange, she obediently sat in her chair in silence.

At about 11:55, Reinaldo appeared and invited everyone to follow him to the underground secret chamber.

Aoko stood up, on guard, and carefully observed every detail of the passage hidden behind the kitchen that led to the secret chamber below.

Her conclusion: it was just a normal passage—no magical traps, no signs of curses.

The underground chamber was spacious; even with over forty participants, it didn’t feel crowded.

Burning incense filled the room with smoke. Colored lanterns and translucent silks hung from the beams, and dim candlelight illuminated the excited faces.

There were no chairs in the room. Instead, dozens of plush velvet cushions were arranged in a circle on the floor. Clearly, this wasn’t Reinaldo’s first time hosting such a ritual.

Aoko sat between Holga on her left and Simon on her right.

Edgin was seated closer to Reinaldo, as arranged by the innkeeper.

“Lady who watches over the lake, please come to us in our darkest hour!”

Aoko couldn’t identify any useful magical symbols in the strange pattern Reinaldo had drawn on the floor, nor did she sense any disturbance in the Weave.

It seemed that everything he did was nothing more than a charlatan’s trick. The silence in the room only reinforced this impression. But the silence didn’t last long—a chilling aura quickly enveloped everyone.

A thin layer of frost formed on the basement walls, people’s breaths became visible as white mist, and the temperature dropped.

Aoko focused her senses; she could feel negative energy gathering—something was about to appear.

Yet Reinaldo wasn’t afraid at all. Instead, his face lit up with excitement.

As if this was exactly what he’d hoped for, he began to continuously call out to the as-yet-unseen “White Lady.”

Then, at the center of the strange pattern on the floor, a translucent female figure appeared.

She swept her chilling gaze over everyone in the circle, finally settling her eyes on Aoko.

Aoko’s mouth twitched. It seemed this ghost, summoned by a bizarre ritual, had set her sights on her.

She hadn’t wanted to cause trouble, but now trouble was coming to her...

The ghost bared her teeth and clawed her way toward Aoko, her manner anything but friendly.

But Aoko was never one to be threatened or bullied. She didn’t like to back down.

Aoko raised her right hand and grabbed the female ghost by the throat, golden light flaring along her arm.

As a cleric, her special abilities “Turn Undead” and “Channel Positive Energy” allowed her to concentrate holy power in her arm, burning the spirit’s soul.

The “White Lady” screamed in pain, flailing her arms in an attempt to break Aoko’s grip.

But Aoko’s arm was like a red-hot iron clamp, gripping her tight, making her smoke and sizzle no matter how she struggled—there was no escape.

Reinaldo was terrified, collapsing to the floor, never having expected things to escalate so far. The White Lady was supposed to be their guardian spirit—why was she attacking them...?

“I ask, you answer,” Aoko said, staring at the pitiful ghost. “Understand?”

Perhaps it was the pain of Aoko’s grip and the burning holy power, but the ghost nodded frantically, gesturing at her throat to indicate she couldn’t speak in her current state.

The old men and women attending the séance were huddled together in fear, but their fear wasn’t directed at the White Lady—

It was at Aoko, who held the ghost like a helpless chick.

“Uh, Aoko, I think you’ve scared everyone,” Edgin whispered awkwardly. “It’s just a regular ghost, you know… no need to…”

Chapter 527: Truth and Intelligence

After a period of chaos, everyone finally calmed down—even the “White Lady” herself, who now sat quietly on an invisible chair like a bullied daughter-in-law.

The reason the old folks and innkeeper Reinaldo had calmed down was because Aoko had revealed the holy symbol of the Goddess of Magic she carried.

In all of Ten Towns, Cleric of the true gods were incredibly rare, and in the Easthaven—a place where thievery was practically legal—they were almost unheard of.

The elderly may never have seen a real priest, but in a world where gods truly exist, even Aoko couldn’t imagine the depth of their awe for divinity.

Now that she had shown both her holy symbol and a live demonstration of “Turn Undead,” she had established overwhelming authority in their eyes.

No one, including Reinaldo, harbored any resentment toward her disciplining the White Lady—they were only seeking help amid the harsh conditions of the Everlasting Rime.

Here in the Easthaven, there were no gods to pray to, so now that a true cleric had appeared, who would dare risk offending her and driving her away?

But Aoko had no interest in taking on their troubles. Her Cleric status was something Mystra had forced onto her, and she had no real idea how to preach.

“I ask, you answer. Understood?” Aoko said sternly to the aggrieved White Lady.

“Y-yes!” Feeling the pressure of Aoko’s power, the White Lady dared not act out, sitting meekly and waiting for Aoko’s questions.

Aoko’s first question was about the White Lady herself.

The ghost dared not hide anything and recounted her story, which largely matched what Reinaldo had said, with a few differing details.

She really was the first mistress of the Pale Lady Inn, but her death wasn’t an accident—her miserly husband had murdered her because, before marriage, she’d been the daughter of a wealthy local family.

After marrying, her husband’s eyes were always on her inheritance. Eventually, driven by greed, he killed her in her sleep.

His method was skillful, and since the Easthaven had no church of the true gods, it was hard to determine the real culprit. So in the end, the case went unsolved.

But things didn’t end there. Although she’d been unremarkable in life, in death she displayed a unique talent.

She became something between a haunting ghost and a bound spirit, able to wander the entire Easthaven and Lac Dinneshere.

After wandering in a daze for a time, her mind gradually cleared with the years, and her hatred for her husband grew ever deeper.

She decided to take action. But since she’d been a kind woman in life, she started by only frightening her husband in his dreams.

But the miser was a coward at heart; after being haunted in his dreams several times, he was scared out of his wits.

He took all his money, including the treasure he’d taken from his wife, packed it into a chest, boarded a boat, and tried to flee the Easthaven.

The White Lady remembered being especially angry that day, finally seeing her husband’s true nature. She used all her power to cause the treasure-laden ferry to sink in the middle of Lac Dinneshere.

With her husband dead, her hatred faded. She then wandered aimlessly in the Easthaven and Lac Dinneshere for many years, until one day, she vaguely heard the call of the inn’s new owner.

That was the first time the White Lady was called by a séance. But the ritual itself had no real effect—the connection was actually due to her being a bound spirit, tied to the land and the inn.

She was lonely and bored, so she began attending the séances, relaying any news she knew to the people who summoned her. Over time, the White Lady became famous among the elderly of the East Exilehaven.

Until today’s séance, when she met Aoko, a cleric of the true gods. At this point, the White Lady snuck a careful look at Aoko, and, seeing that her expression remained stern, immediately lowered her head and sat quietly.

“Share any information you’ve gathered recently,” Aoko said, waving her hand and summoning a chair from imaginary space to sit down. “Anything about the Easthaven, or the Everlasting Rime.”

The White Lady answered promptly, spilling out all the intelligence she’d recently gathered.

First: Not far from Caer-Konig, in Caer-Dineval, the castle there had been occupied by a group of cultists. These cultists used a strange black stone to brainwash kidnapped civilians.

Aoko immediately picked up on the crucial details—“black stone” and “brainwashing” were suspiciously similar to the devil-imbued Chardalyn magic stone she possessed.

In other words, aside from the duergar led by the Sunblight father and son, another faction seeking the Chardalyn magic stones was likely hiding in Caer-Dineval.

Second: The White Lady had recently spotted many sneaky duergar in corners around town.

These duergar were currently based aboard a large ferry trapped in the frozen port of the Easthaven.

This matched the information Aoko and company had found in the duergar outpost at Kelvin's Cairn—meaning these duergar were probably led by Nilda Sunblight’s brother, Durth Sunblight, likewise searching for the Chardalyn magic stones.

This was similar to what Nilda was doing in Caer-Konig, but here in the Easthaven, it was even more secretive, since theft was a legal profession here.

Still, the duergar didn’t dare be too brazen; while theft might be legal, their kind was not, and being caught could still mean prison.

Chapter 528: Laying the Spirit to Rest

Beyond those two pieces of information, there was an even stranger, but for locals, more enticing rumor.

“There’s an old hag named Maud Chiselbone with a magic cauldron,” the White Lady said. “This pot can produce an unlimited amount of food—enough to feed the whole town…”

Aoko instinctively doubted such a result, suspecting some negative magical side effect. Still, compared to her own daily feast from the magic mansion, perhaps the magic cauldron wasn’t so outlandish.

This intelligence made the elderly and the innkeeper restless; even in the Easthaven, food shortages were beginning to emerge, though not as severe as in the rest of Ten Towns.

“Do you know where the old hag is?” Aoko asked.

“I can’t remember…” the White Lady said in confusion. “It’s strange—after leaving her lair, my memory became fuzzy. I only remember the magic cauldron… as for her appearance or address, I’ve forgotten.”

“That’s a typical hag spell,” Simon explained to Aoko. “It’s common among evil fey—to prevent people from finding them. But since the White Lady is a ghost, the spell didn’t fully work.”

Aoko nodded and turned her attention to the White Lady again.

“Any other information you can tell me?” she asked.

“N-no, but I…” The White Lady seemed to want to say something, but shrank back, clearly afraid of Aoko.

“Speak your mind,” Aoko said. “As long as you don’t charge at me again, I won’t hurt you.”

In fact, the White Lady’s earlier attack had been almost involuntary. As a long-dead ghost, maintaining her sanity was a constant struggle.

She kept herself sane by regularly interacting with the living at séances, and by absorbing stray arcane energy from Weave nodes. To her, Aoko, with a Weave fragment inside her, was like a fountain flowing with milk and honey.

“...I have a request,” the White Lady said after some hesitation. “My bones were thrown into the well behind the inn by my husband… Could you help retrieve them?”

“Hm?” Aoko raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you still bound to your remains?”

“Exactly,” the White Lady nodded. “I’m tired of wandering here. I can feel my sanity slipping, so I hope someone can retrieve my bones and burn them…”

“No problem,” Aoko replied after a moment’s thought. Though she was only a half-baked cleric, she still had the basics—like summoning holy fire to cremate remains, a standard priest’s duty. “Take me to the well.”

No one objected to Aoko laying the White Lady to rest—except one person.

That was the current innkeeper, Reinaldo, who was sweating nervously.

The inn’s water supply came from that very well. He’d even paid a hefty sum for a magic item to keep the well from freezing.

While the others didn’t seem to mind a corpse in the well, if word got out, his business would be ruined…

With mixed feelings, everyone followed the White Lady’s spirit out to the backyard well.

Aoko checked the well’s depth, used Arcane Eye to locate the remains (now just bones), and then cast a 4th-level transmutation spell to manipulate water.

The spell originally controlled a 100-cubic-foot body of water for ten minutes. Aoko tweaked the model to affect a cylinder rather than a cube, letting her control all the water down to the bottom of the well.

As the spell took effect, the water began to swirl, forming a deep vortex straight to the dark bottom.

Aoko glanced at Simon, who nodded and used Bigby’s Hand to fly down the vortex and retrieve the bones.

Soon, a fairly intact human skeleton was fished up and placed on the firewood pile in the backyard.

With all the séance participants watching, Aoko used Channel Positive Energy to ignite a radiant holy fire, cremating the century-old bones.

Unlike a normal cremation, the bones—long soaked in negative energy—dissolved like snow in sunlight under the holy fire, leaving not even a speck of ash.

The White Lady looked at her hands in confusion, her soul growing more and more transparent as if some force was pulling her away from the mortal plane.

“Thank you for your help, Priestess,” the White Lady said sincerely. “I wish you safe travels on your future adventures…”

Before she finished, the poor soul, who had wandered for a century, left the mortal realm.

From Aoko’s senses, the White Lady had kept her sanity over the years, never harming anyone. Since she’d been kind in life, after being freed from her bonds, she’d likely ascend to Mount Celestia, to the realm of her deity, becoming a petitioner.

The séance participants had never seen a real cleric before. Aoko’s exorcism seemed miraculous, and someone immediately asked if she could establish a shrine to the Goddess of Magic in the Easthaven.

The innkeeper Reinaldo was sharp—he immediately saw a business opportunity and suggested to Aoko: since the White Lady was gone, he could donate the séance chamber as a secret chapel for the Goddess of Magic.

As long as the inn survived the well water crisis, Reinaldo could convert too—after all, it didn’t cost anything.

Aoko thought it over and sent a mental message to Mystra, asking if a shrine could be established. Mystra’s reply was just a single word: “Yes.”