A tear ran down Lyrik's pale, cold cheek.

I'm dead.

Neveah, Mom and Dad. They're dead, too.

And Ruby also is, probably.

They can't hear me. I remember, when I was alive, I loved to talk. But now I can't... Nobody can hear me. I bet they'll start trying to kill me, assume I'm a threat.

"No," she declared softly. "No." Her voice was stronger this time. "I was given a second chance for some reason. I'll find a way. I'll write what I want to say, or I'll find someone who can lipread." Now she knew why she wasn't hungry or thirsty; when she was alive, she always was. But now she was dead.

"I'll find someone," she repeated, and turned. The sidewalk must lead to somewhere. And someone, someone, has to care.

It turned out she didn't need to sleep, either. Lyrik had been travelling for two days and wasn't hungry, tired or thirsty. But her foot hurt.

The terrain hadn't changed, but the grass was shorter, and there wasn't the salty breeze of the ocean in the air. Lyrik had found out she couldn't fly. Finding a city would have been much quicker if she could. But now, she could see that over the oddly-placed hill in front of her, there was a town. A large, busy one, with tall apartments. And in it, her hope.

Walking around a city wasn't as appealing as it used to be with everyone screaming, running, and not bothering to even talk to her. Lyrik wished that they would. Even if they couldn't hear her, she could get them to understand that she wasn't trying to hurt them. She wished they could just hear her. No, more accurately, she wished that the fire had never happened.

Not that she would get what she wished for.

She froze, as a sudden vision entered her mind. Pain shot through her head, and she clutched it with one hand, leaning weakly against a thin, shaky tree.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you," a red-haired boy said, staring at Lyrik. His eyes were silver.

"I know." Lyrik looked stunned.

"That's all you have to say?"

"What can I say? You died! I was at your funeral!"

"Would I really be stupid enough to die and let my murderer cover up their tracks?" he asked, trying to lighten up the mood. "Would I?"

"You died, they found your body! You were killed!" Lyrik protested. "I saw the coffin! I put flowers by your grave, I cried, everyone cried! Someone killed you, but we found your body!"

"It's going to happen to someone else, too. They can't hear me, just you. I don't know why. I'm stuck- stuck between earth, heaven and hell."

"What are you saying?" Lyrik asked. "Look, you're dead. I don't know what's happening- I must be imagining this- I-"

"I missed you," the red-haired boy interrupted. Lyrik's eyes softened.

"You think I don't miss you?"

He kissed her, and she accepted it. The storm overhead rumbled.

"I have to go," he said suddenly. "Lyrik. Be careful. If they know you can talk to me, they'll kill you, too."

"What? Who? Are you even real?" she demanded, feeling torn apart.

"Yes. If you don't want to believe it, fine, but believe this- you can't tell anyone about me. I'm dead, okay?"

"I..."

"For me."

"For you," she agreed. "I won't tell anyone about you. I won't tell them that you're not dead."

"I'm dead," he repeated. "Just- don't forget. Don't tell anyone, or else you'll die, too."

"I'm not going to see you again, am I?" Lyrik asked, her eyes bright with sadness.

"I- I don't know. I don't think so."

The pain cleared, and Lyrik could see properly again. What was that? She shook her head. It was just my imagination, yes, just my imagination. But there was a question embedded on her mind.

He was like me. His skin was like mine, and his hair was weirdly pale, even though it had colour. Are my eyes silver?

What was he trying to warn me about?

Who was he?

Am I supposed to find him?

Lyrik sighed. This vision, or whatever she should call it, didn't help her at all. Wait- but it did.

I could hear him. So what if someone else can hear me?

She ran into the city, passing a large sign. Now she knew where she was. The kingdom of M'Dall. Her old home.

The city was called C'Dall. The capital. Maybe she could find someone who could help her. If she found someone from her old life, that was.

But maybe she would find danger.

She shuddered as the memory of the fire came into her mind. It happened in this city, somewhere on the outskirts. Then another glimpse entered her brain.

In the fire.

She had seen something.

A pale, pale violet rose, somehow surviving the heat, with no clue how it had gotten there. And then what the boy said. "Lyrik. Be careful. If they know that you can talk to me, they'll kill you, too."

What if 'they' did kill me?

A sinking feeling entered her stomach. It wasn't impossible. Which meant that it was possible. The fire hadn't started from the oven, and they didn't have a fireplace or matches in their house, as they only had matches when they were lighting candles, which was almost never.

So how had the fire started, and how had it gotten so big that it killed her, and her family?

"Lyrik. Be careful. If they know you can talk to me, they'll kill you, too."

"Be careful. If they know you can talk to me, they'll kill you, too."

"If they know you can talk to me, they'll kill you, too."

"They'll kill you, too."

"They'll kill you."

"They killed me," she whispered. "They killed me. And Ruby, and Neveah, and Mom, and Dad." She wrapped her hands around herself and sat down on a bench, ignoring the people running. They couldn't hear her. It would be useless to try and stop them. She closed her eyes.

They killed us all. How did they find out? Who are they? How did they get into the house, and light it on fire?

A jolt ran through her body.

We couldn't find Ruby.

The last time she was in the house, she was going to school.

What if she never went to school? What if she never got there?

Or...

Could she have set the fire? Sweet little Ruby?

No. No. No.

She was thirteen, how in the world would she kill us, and how would she have the heart to, and no, I won't ruin my memory of my family! I know Ruby, my little sister, who loved us all, who-

Who was always, always, oddly obsessed with fire.

No, it was because she was a Flamekeeper!

We thought.

No, she was a Flamekeeper, that was why!

I thought.

It was her. It was her. Face it, Lyrik, she killed you. How and why, I don't know, but...

Wait. I was sixteen when I died.

According to the pavement block, I should be about nineteen now.

How long was I there, on that cliff, unseen?

So I missed years of life- no, of death-, my sister killed me, and I'll never see my family again. I should have just died! I shouldn't be here now!

They're gone. I'll never see them again. Why am I even trying to be heard, to be understood? If there's some way to kill a ghost, I should be letting them kill me! I should be attacking people, so that I look like a threat, so that the military has to kill me! I'm sure firekeepers, icekeepers and waterkeepers could kill me.

But I'm not evil. I'm not a killer.

So I guess I'll have to stick with finding someone who can hear me.

She sighed, walking towards an old, creaky telephone booth and dialing Ruby's old number. The booth turned rusty as she walked in.

"Hello?" she tried.

Voicemail answered her, and Lyrik nearly hung up the phone before hearing the first few sentences.

"Lyrik, you have to know that we're dead- we're all dead- and you're a ghost. Most people can't hear you. But I know who should be able to hear you. His name is Kael, Kael Gryffin. He lives in the house opposite to ours. And you should know... I can give you information. Just listen to the rest of this before you find him..."