Opening the door to the basement of her new house, Ariya noted the staleness in the air and the mould eroding the corners of the room.

After a brief pause at the top of the basement stairs, Ariya made three taunt gesture summoning a small ball of light that hovered above her palm.

Sensing the cold presence that threatened to extinguish her light, she checked for the presence of remnant souls, no such signs appeared.

Releasing a deep sigh, Ariya’s demeanor noticeably relaxed.

After running her fingers through her loose strands of hair, Ariya rolled back the sleeves of her black button-up shirt and got to work.

Rummaging through the weathered crates, she discovered ancient magus reports, out-of-date academy textbooks, and stale sweet treats, whose taste had been lost to the ravages of time.

Upon closer inspection, Ariya uncovered a miniature notebook, so small it could fit in the palm of her hand.

The deep purple cover was adorned by what appeared to be a hand-drawn rose, the flower’s rich golden color complementing the dim gold breaches that covered the notebook's spine.

Intrigued by the immaculate trinket, Ariya made two upward gestures and summoned a light breeze to pry open the cover.

The pages fluttered outward, revealing a scrawled diary entry, the exact details obscured by an inked sketch of an eye that occupied two pages.

Ariya contemplated touching the rough, grainy texture of the pages. However, her aversion to touching someone else's belongings, especially those of a deceased person, hindered her from tracing the ink blots with the tip of her finger.

Stealing a final glance at the pages, Ariya gingerly placed the diary on a side table to attend to later.

• • •

As evening fell, Ariya sorted the last of the miscellaneous bits and bobs, releasing her hair from the binding of her ponytail, allowing her silver locks to fall by her shoulders.

Content with the progress made, she turned to leave, taking the diary with her as she ascended the basement stairs.

With time to compose herself, Ariya brought out tools from her academy knapsack and got to work decoding the diary entry.

[Last night, it was summer. The air was hot, humid, hostile to living creatures such as myself. Oh, how I long to be released from this slow torment that wrings my body dry. Every wind flakes my skin. Every breath scorching my throat. Every second is a second longer I wish I had stayed dead.]

Ariya ran her fingers through her hair, a mixture of excitement and unease evident on her face.

‘How curious, Such descriptions are too vague to pinpoint the exact situation the child faced, if such a diary entry can be taken at face value.’

Taken in by the thought of unraveling a hidden secret of the past, Ariya rummaged through her textbooks, flicking through the pages of the Historical Guide to the Realm that Lies Beyond.

She stopped on page 442, where the subheading read "Purgatorial Nightmares."

‘It seems I have met an acquaintance.’

A glint of anticipation, flashing through her eyes as she chuckled softly to herself.

‘I can only hope they’ve got a bit more spirit to them than the last.’