The Unfortunate Arrival of (most of) David McMartin

The first thing David saw was the stars. Twinkling beacons that let off unrelenting rays, proudly proclaiming their presence for him to see. Amidst the break in the treetops above, the man was entranced by their natural light. 
They’re beautiful, he thought. I wish I could feel them in my own hands. 
David was aware just how primal his thoughts were. No one can touch the stars, he knew that. But if he could just--
KRRRKRUCHUK.
David tried to lift his right arm, only for it to be met with immense resistance. It felt as if something were holding him down -- no, that something had coiled itself around his limb, and pinned it to the ground. He pulled more.
CHRRKRK.
More crackles rang out. The more David pushed, the more he noticed; the sound resembled that of a rubber band snapping, an elastic band severing as he freed his arm from its grasp. Aside the noise he made, the man couldn’t feel whatever it was that was holding him down, nor could he feel his arm. He knew it was moving, as the sounds rang out with every attempt he made to lift his arms. But beyond that, there was no stimulation, no signals of its function. David pushed the thought aside as he focused his attention on the stars and continued to pull.
CHRRKURK.
The noise suddenly grew much louder, then came to an alarming halt. David took this as a symptom of his success, and hastily grasped at the sky. As he focused on the brightest star above, he heard a faint clanking, and, finally, his hand came into view. It floated across the starry backdrop and the dark outlines of the branches and leaves, centering on the star in question. It was at this point that David took notice of its scrawny shape. 
That can’t be my hand. He thought. Even in the suffocated starlight, he saw that his fingers were thin and oblong, and that the lower segments, those connecting his fingers to his wrist, ran far longer than he remembered. What’s more, there were breaks in his hand and arm (at least, all that could fit in his view), sections in which there was no coverage, through which the starlight shone through. 
Suddenly unnerved, he yanked his other arm upward.
KRRRCHRRK.
The noise was much louder this time around, but lingered far less as his other hand was lifted into view. Just like the former, this hand was thin and lacking in coverage. And, like his right hand, this one lacked feeling, and clanked faintly as he twisted it around frantically. He prayed it was a trick of the starlight, but anxiety hastily consumed his thoughts. 
What am I? By the gods, what have I become?! 
The man was in a panic. He kicked his legs up, tearing them free just as he had his left arm.
CHRRRK.
His torso convulsed as he tried to sit up, but was met with more resistance. Whatever it was that had a hold on him, it had was eager to keep him constrained. He pushed and pushed, breaking the constraints gradually.
CHCHCHHHHCH.
With his lack of feeling and the dim lighting, the best that David could do to gauge his progress was listen for the tearing noises. 
CHCHKRRRRRRRK.
All at once, David shot up, instinctively pushing himself off the ground with his hands. As he stood, he shook about wildly, struggling to balance. The clanking and clinking of his limbs grew louder and louder as he stumbled over to a solid shape, what he assumed to be a tree trunk. He then glanced back at his resting place, terrified of the sight; among the wild flora that covered the forest floor, he could see his own outline. It was visible among breaks in the grass, flowers, and creeping roots that otherwise obscured the forest floor. The breaks in the treetop coverage above shone down to highlight just enough of the ground for David to realize that he was not actively restricted by some artificial binding, but that the plants had instead grown over him. 
David opened his mouth to scream, but, just like the rest of his body, he couldn’t feel his face. Worse, there was no noise. Nothing but more clanking rang out as he reached for his throat, which clacked against his hand. David’s head pivoted from side to side as he observed his surroundings to try and make sense of his situation. The man was surrounded by thick cylindrical outlines, what he could only assume to be more trees. More starlight shone through from above, and, in the far distance east of where he had awoken, he could make out a shimmering plain. David hesitantly glanced from his outline up to the stars above, then back at the far-off clearing. 
Where am I? 
How long have I been here?
Is this a dream?!
David came to a swift decision, turning towards the clearing and racing towards the shining ground. Whatever it was, it was better than the dark of the forest. 
--- ✦ ---
As he ran, he could hear more loud clinks emanating from his own form, accompanied by the crunching sounds of his feet presumably smashing the various plants and leaves beneath his feet. As he rushed towards the lit surface in the distance, he tried to recall the events that preceded his sudden awakening. His attempts produced only hazy images, with his most recent memory being a successful attempt at stowing away on a seabound galleon. He had fed a crew member one of his most successful lines; “I’m the son of a great captain, and I must honor his legacy by sailing the high seas!” This, in turn, earned him a free ride out of some backwater trading port. 
If David still had a working jaw, he would have chuckled as he continued his trek towards the sparkling ground. Of course, there was no noise, which only heightened his anxiety. To try and combat this sensation, David kept his gaze on the ground ahead of him. The closer he was, the more he could make out that the glittering surface was not solid ground but, instead, a vast lake. After such a rude and disconcerting awakening, the sight of the still and shining water instilled a sense of calm in the man. He kept moving forward, traversing out of the treeline and directly across the dirt bank, until he stood right at the water’s edge. 
David gathered himself as best he could and braced himself before leaning forward and looking at his reflection. Staring back at him was a completely foreign entity, and certainly not the broad-shouldered , red-haired form that he believed to be his own. Instead, what stared back at him was a skeletal being, one that resembled a human who had stripped itself of flesh and muscle (and any other organic bit aside from bare bones). Across its cranium spider-webbed a series of small cracks and crevices, sections of which had given way to a series of plants, colorful little vines and flowers that not only adorned the top and sides of the skull, but had come to fill one of his eye sockets. The other socket had a faint purple glow to it, but there was little else that could be discerned in the moonlight. David was understandably terrified at the sight. He waved his arms around to verify that this was indeed his reflection, and to his horror, the skeleton perfectly matched his movements. 
He had little time to process his dastardly discovery as he heard a pair of voices from behind. He glanced backwards but was unable to discern the source. Far too panicked to plan a proper escape, David dove into the lake before him, submerging himself underwater completely. Above, he could hear the now-muffled voices as they approached, until they eventually stopped where he stood. It was far too dark to make out the wanderers’ appearances through the water’s surface, but he was certain that there were at least two of them.
I can’t move. Thought David. The slightest ripple could give me away. Then what would become of me in this cursed form?
David watched one of the shapes move quickly, only for the water to respond as a stone pierced its surface. The voices continued as stones bounced across the surface and shot straight through every few seconds. David could only watch, though he had come to realize one of the perks of his new body; he no longer had lungs, and, thus, had no need to come up for air. The now-skeletal being was left to silently spectate as the beings above carelessly tossed rocks into the water. 
I need only to wait. Surely these fools can--
David’s thoughts were interrupted as one of the rocks flew directly into his right eye socket, which evoked a flash of magenta light from it. It was as if a bright purple fire had been sparked, then immediately extinguished. David threw himself backward in response to the flash. Once again, he was surprised by his new form. And, once again, his time to process was cut short by the wanderers above, one of which decidedly ducked its head under the water -- only to immediately catch sight of David, even amidst the abyssal lighting of the lake. David could now make out their face, it being a tan-skinned man with long, dark hair. The skeleton froze in place as the man’s head lifted out of the lake. Moments later, both of the wanderers dove into the lake, and swam down towards David. He remained still, petrified at the prospect of being seen in his new and ghastly appearance. 
The other wanderer, a light-skinned woman with her hair in a short braid, swam down beside David and gripped one of his arms. The man grabbed hold of the other, and the pair lifted David up. They ascended to the surface, and dragged David ashore, lying him on his back. They stared down at him, talking to one another in a language completely foreign to David. 
What are they going to do to me? What can they do to me?
David watched the duo bicker for what felt like an eternity, until they were paying far more attention to each other than him. Realizing that their heated discussion was a perfect opportunity for escape, David began to slowly shift his limbs, pushing himself inch-by-inch away from the shore, and towards the treeline. He failed to anticipate the clacking that would accompany even this minimal amount of movement, and, as such, was alarmed as the male wanderer shrieked at the sight of the now-living skeleton drifting towards the forest. The skeletal being got to his feet and tried to book it, but the female wanderer tackled him to the ground. She began shouting at him in her foreign tongue, but David dug his fingers into the dirt and tried to pull himself towards the treeline with little success. As the woman gripped the top of his skull and yanked it back, David caught sight of his hand-marks in the dry dirt, and came up with another plan, since his escape attempt was far less successful than he had hoped.
As the woman kept shouting at him, David hurriedly dragged a finger through the dry dirt and began to spell out his name. The other wanderer quickly caught on and put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, causing her to go quiet. He pointed to the name just as David finished the second “D”, which prompted the woman to look back down at the skeleton. 
“Auslander.” She remarked softly as she dismounted the man-turned-ghoul. “Those characters-- you are from elsewhere.” 
“He is a foreigner… perhaps he was cursed and cast away!” The male wanderer responded. “He may be like us! Like our people!” 
The female wanderer stood and gripped David by his upper arm, hauling him to his feet. 
“...David, yes?” 
David hesitated, then nodded. 
“Come, David!” Remarked the male wanderer. “We have much to discuss!”
For the third (and hopefully final) time, David was whisked away before he had a chance to think as the male wanderer gripped his hand and headed for the treeline, the female wanderer in tow. 
--- ✦ ---
David trekked alongside the male wanderer, keeping his gaze completely forward. His hand was still gripped tightly in the wanderer's, with the female wanderer walking a few feet ahead of them. David didn't bother to try and flee; he was already lost, so having any kind of guide, especially ones who were sympathetic to his situation, was a welcome change of pace. 
"You... must be tired." Said the man in a thick, unfamiliar accent as his grip tightened around David's hand. The skeletonized being looked over to him, emoting with as much anxiety as his his clay-like skull-face could muster. His eyeholes restricted, and the vines that had accumulated into a small knot in his left eye-socket were squished as they replicated a furrowed brow. The male wanderer laughed. Despite his towering stature, he bore a jovial nature, one that shone even before he'd erupted into laughter. As he collected himself, the man's lips curled into a slight smile, and he looked David up and down. 
"I can't imagine this is your typical form. The skeletons around these parts are not nearly as agreeable as you." The man's accent was unlike the woman's. Where she had emphasized the harder consonant sounds and seemed to exhale on her vowels, the man was very soft-spoken with his speech, emphasizing instead his R's and adding a jagged edge to his ah's and oh's.
David nodded, the bones in his neck clacking over the sounds of the leaves crunching beneath his feet.
"Of course he is not typical, Leni. The cursed do not choose their forms." Remarked the female wanderer. The male wanderer -- apparently Leni -- turned to David. "...My apologies." He remarked, his tan cheeks growing a little red. 
David's focus shifted from Leni to the female wanderer. She hadn't interacted much with David beyond their encounter at the lake, though it seemed likely she was far more knowledgeable of his situation than Leni. David tried to speak, then remembered he couldn't, then lifted Leni's hand to get his attention. As Leni glanced over to David, he pointed a bony finger at the other wanderer. 
"She is Vici." The woman turned her head back slightly, shooting Leni a curious glance over her shoulder. "She is leading us back to camp. I tend to get lost in forests like these." Leni gestured off to his right, his hand brushing across the dense treeline that comprised the surrounding area. "If it were not for her, I would be leading you in circles." He said with a little chuckle. 
"Leni is much better at identifying things." Vici said. "What he lacks in navigation, he makes up for with his knowledge of nature." She said softly. David simulated a raised eyebrow with his left eyehole, and Leni laughed in response. "She is being kind. I am well-aware of my shortcomings." 
David turned his gaze forward, internally pondering his circumstances. 
Who are these people? He wondered. And what is it they'd have me do? How are they 'cursed'?
Much to David's chagrin, these questions would keep swirling around in his head as Vici and Leni broke into another discussion in, presumably, the same foreign language they'd spoken at the lake.
--- ✦ ---
After what felt like eons had passed since their lake encounter, the trio entered a field just as day broke. Leni finally released David's hand, and sped up so he could walk alongside Vici. She and Leni trailed ahead, leading David into a collective of tall, circular tents and colorful wooden caravans. David's skull swiveled around curiously, though he felt discouraged as the other people at the campsite offered horrified or confused looks in return. 
The pair ducked into a large, vertically-striped purple-and-white tent. David followed after them, and immediately collided with the wide table in its center. Leni laughed and pulled David back, gripping him by the ribs and standing him upright, while Vici stood stern, her eyes fixated on something on the other side of the table. David followed her gaze and realized what it was she was looking at; standing on the other side of the table was a mannequin. It resembled a human as much as the wanderers; it had two arms, two legs, a head, and the same general body shape. The difference, of course, was that it was made of wood, utterly featureless, and totally still. It stood in an idle position, its smooth face pointed at David as he stood between the pair. 
Leni cleared his throat, then softly spoke a few words that felt almost like a cuss to David. Despite having never heard them before, the skeleton felt a bitterness pervade his mind, and recoiled. Leni once again laughed at David's reaction, though his laughter was cut short by a voice on the other side of the table. 
"What is it? You can't just wake me up like this!" Said something resembling the voice of an irritated elder male from across the table. Curiously, David looked to its source, only to see the mannequin bore a glowing crack where its mouth would be, were it a human. Of course, it wasn't, so David was once again overtaken by feelings of confusion just like when he'd first woken up. These feelings would only steepen when Leni spoke again, this time in the foreign language from before. 
The mannequin threw its arms up partway through Leni's words, and the crack on its face began to shift as the voice spoke again -- almost like a mouth. "We can't keep taking in these weird outsiders! We're gravemakers, not social workers!" The mannequin's arms fell to its sides, dangling from its shoulders as if they were flesh and bone rather than wood and hinges. The voice's accent differed from the wanderer's, though it was hard to discern what was a pattern of speech, and what was mere exhaustion as the raspy voice continued in a slightly calmer tone. "Alright, kid, whatsya name?" 
David looked over to Leni, then Vici, confused as to what he should do. Vici offered a weak smile and a nod. "Speak," she said, "he can hear you, even if we can not."
David looked across the table at the mannequin and opened his skeletal jaw. After a few moments of hesitation, he mustered up the courage and spoke. 
"David McMartin" flowed up his spine and out of his barren mouth, the words echoing aloud in the voice that had been narrating his thoughts internally. A small green wisp travelled from David's mouth, across the room and over to the mannequin, sliding into the glowing crevice that acted as its mouth. The mannequin slumped forward onto the table, propping itself up on its elbows and staring into the center of the wooden square for a minute or two -- though it felt much longer as David's amazement at his sudden ability to speak stretched the seconds into hours. He looked over to Leni, though the man was completely unfazed. Vici patted David's shoulder, and he looked over at her as she reiterated her point from before; 
"He can hear you. We cannot." 
David opened his mouth again to speak to Vici; to try and prove her wrong, to use his voice enough that it would penetrate whatever barrier prevented it from being heard. But before he could manage anymore words, the mannequin spoke again, lifting its head to point its almost-face at David.
"Alright, kid. I've got mostly bad news. If we had chairs here, I'd ask ya to sit down." The mannequin straightened its posture, leaning off the table. "But you need to know that everything I'm gonna say is true. And as soon as I'm done talking, you're gonna have ta do some weird stuff, but it's all good for you. Got it?" 
David was completely frozen, his gaze focused on the mannequin. He was intrigued, and terrified, and excited. Any clarity could help at this point, even if it wasn't the best of news. 
"Alright." The mannequin folded its arms. "We can't help you. Not to be human, at least. I dunno nearly enough about necro-whatnot or healing magic to give you skin again. And them--" The mannequin flops its arms out, gesturing to Vici and Leni. "They can't do much beyond say some prayers and rub some grass on it." 
Already, David was mortified. But the mannequin continued.
"Also, your family? Likely all-dead. Not you-dead. Dead-dead. In the ground. The kind of people we service as gravemakers. Time'll do that to ya, if you're-- if you're not careful!" The mannequin lets out a guttural laugh, though it fades as it David solemnly lowers his gaze. Its indiscriminate hand-flap and thumb raise to its chin, rubbing it as its other hand rests at its waist. "What else? Oh yeah! I dunno when you died. And I don't have the time to help you find out. But--" The hand at its chin extends across the table to David. "Now the good news." Says the voice. 
In the palm of the mannequin's hand, bright red and blue sparks kick up, as if an invisible piece of flint were scratching against it. Suddenly, a purple flame alights and floats above the wooden hand. It resembled the same flame which briefly flashed in David's eyehole as he hid beneath the lake's surface. The flame then died down again, and left a purple gem, about the size of a pebble, floating above the mannequin's hand in its place. The gem softly lowered into its palm as the voice continued.
"Lucky for you, gravelords get a kick out of everything to do with life energy, spirits, animism, what makes you you." Remarked the mannequin. David eyed the gem cautiously, then glanced over to the mannequin's mouth-crevice as it continued.
"All you gotta do is slot it in your eye and you'll start soaking up mana, or, uh,.,, well, doesn't matter what it soaks. This thing is gonna help you remember things and hopefully figure out what in Sear's name is going on; with the-- the face, the clackity naked body, the plants in your head, any remaining family-- the works. It'll help you talk too, once you get enough stuff in it."
David slowly extended his hand to scoop up the gem, but the mannequin quickly retracted it, clutching the purple stone to its chest. 
"I don't do this for free, though. I'm gonna need you to help us-- help my people-- in return." The mannequin once again gestured to Vici and Leni with its other arm, the pair watching him silently. "There's been-- there's been a lot of curses and resurrections recently-ish. People don't die like they used to." The voice snickers at its own remark, then continues. "...But they do eventually. But then we have a bunch of bodies lying around, a bunch of ashes blowing around. They might have been turned into monsters, but they were people too, ya know?" 
The bolts and hinges on the mannequin's neck creak as it shakes its head. "And... and there's not a lot of magicking people about. Real shame. The Mad King made sure of that, way back when. When I was your age, probably. But-- but the people who still do it! People like me, we can hear the voices of the spirits crying out. It's just awful."
The mannequin's head leans back, the hinges whining as it faces upward. "Yeh see, the spirits want a burial. They want ceremony. They're stuck here without it -- they gotta be put to rest." The mannequin straightens its posture. "That's what we're here for. Vici, Leni, and everyone else in this camp, they're gravemakers. We-- they go around, they create graveyards. They memorialize the spirits and hold mass funerals, help them get comfortable in their graves -- like beds, get it? Then-- then I come in. I'm a gravelord, so I'm kinda like their boss. They consult with me, I make sure they did a good job, and I ferry the sleeping spirits to the afterlife. You--" The mannequin's free hand points at David. "--are gonna be a gravemaker. Help 'em carry out their duties and calm the restless spirits. You got it?"
David's head reels at the explanation, the skeleton running the information back in his head.
"Listen-- you don't have to remember all of that." Says the voice. "The point is, if you want this rock -- and your memories, and your voice -- you're gonna help them out for a while. Make some graves. Calm some ghosts. Then you get to leave. Pretty rock, memories, the whole shabang." The mannequin then extends the rock again. "Simple as dirt. Whaddya say, David? Can you help us out?" 
David narrows his sockets at the sight of the rock, then raises his gaze to the mannequin's blank face, which was once again pointed at the skeleton. His focuses his gaze the glowing crack.
"I want to be a gravelord." Says David, finally getting another word in. The mannequin leans forward, the crack widening as the old man's voice lowers to a piercing whisper. "You what?" 
On either side of David, Vici and Leni lean in and look at the mannequin, concerned. "What is it? What is he saying?" Asks Vici fearfully, glancing between David and the mannequin. 
"Kid, maybe you didn't get it the first time. Gravelords don't do the gravemaking. We communicate with the other realm, we talk to ghosts. You can't do that. If anything, you're the type I usually help to cross over." 
Vici leans back, eyeing David curiously. On the other side of the skeleton, Leni glances between the mannequin and the skeleton, dumbfounded by the half of the conversation that he could hear. 
"What's your name?" Asks David. 
"Hearn." Retorts the voice. "Why?" 
"Hearn." Says David. "You're right, Hearn. I probably look just like the type you lay to rest. And, judging by the looks I received on my way in, the rest of your people think the same thing. If I join the gravemakers, I risk getting buried alive -- by mistake, or maybe by one of my less-accepting peers. Even if not, I doubt they'll treat me fairly when I look more like a museum exhibit -- or one of those monsters -- than one of them. But, maybe... with a special title... something with the authority to prevent that... it won't happen." 
The crack on the mannequin abates into a frown. "I get it. You don't care about the process." The hand bearing the gem flips over, pressing the rock against the table. "No dice, kid. You don't get to come in and gamble on my good will." 
David shakes his head. "You misunderstand me, Hearn. I don't any special treatment. Just the title. Gravelord David McMartin." 
"Gravelord David." The voice corrects him. "We don't do surnames." 
David stays quiet for a few moments before speaking with an air of regret. "Actually, on second thought, I want to apologize. I'll stick with gravemaking."
The mannequin slouches forward onto its elbows again, keeping the gem covered beneath its wooden hand. "Not sure, kid. This is a big responsibility, and you don't exactly seem the type."
David nods. "I get it. But please, consider my perspective; I've awoken in a strange body, with barely any clear memories, and I've been dragged into this situation without any guarantee of my safety." The skeleton lowers his gaze to the center of the table again. David traces along the divots in the wood quietly for a few seconds before continuing in a soft, desperate tone. "I'm scared, frightened that your people will leave me for dead. If that happens -- I don't know who else to turn to, and I don't have anywhere else to go. And if someone mistakes me for a monster, my life is over."
The mannequin remains still for a few moments before letting out a sigh. Its hand turns over, revealing the purple gem once again. 
"I know what that's like, kid. It's hard, being left alone like that. Being hunted. Scared for your life -- that's not something anyone should have to go through. Take the rock." He extends the gem to David. The skeleton reaches forward and scoops it up, watching it glow in his spindly, segmented fingers. "Just remember to treat my people good, and they'll do the same. Who knows? You might even be at my level someday." He snickers again, but it fades as he turns his attention to the humans in the room. 
The mannequin tries to snap its fingers to get their attention, but its thumb limply clacks against the wide hand-flap where its fingers should be. "Agh. Hey--" The mannequin points its arm like a cannon at Leni. "Don't call me for a while. I've had it up to here with your interrupting my slumber. People this old need lots of sleep, yeah? So save the calls for the important stuff." Before Leni can respond, the arm swings over to point at Vici, remaining straight as an arrow as it slices through the air. "And you. Relax with the anomalies. There are plenty of homeless normals out there, why not recruit a few of them?" 
"But the curse!" Retorts Leni. The mannequin throws its arms up again. "There is no curse!" Declares the voice. "How many times do I have to tell you?! None of you are cursed!" On the other side of David, Vici slouches down bashfully. 
The mannequin's arms drop to its sides, and it heaves in and out for another sigh. "Treat the newbie good. Make sure he puts the rock in his eyehole. And, seriously, don't call unless it's necessary. I'm gonna have ta sleep for a month after this." 
With that, the mannequin takes one big breath in, then exhales. As it does, the mouth-crack's light extinguishes and the wood seals, the surface where it was now smooth and contiguous again. The mannequin loses any semblance of liveliness as it resumes its idle position. Vici and Leni glance over to David, who was left staring at a blank mannequin. His gaze then trailed down to the gem in his hands, and he shifted it about curiously. He could feel its faint warmth, and it seemed to have a nigh-cosmic shine to him. 
I wanted to touch a star. Thought the skeleton. Perhaps this is the next best thing.
--- ✦ ---
After examining it for a few moments, David finally brought the gem up to the front of his skull. The two humans leaned in, staring at it as well. Slowly, David pressed it to the edge of his right eye-socket, the one that wasn't filled with vines, and slid it in slowly. It rested there momentarily, obstruct his vision. Then, suddenly, it cracked, growing a new shard. Then another. Then another. Quicker and quicker, the gem grew out and filled David's eye socket, rendering him completely blind in his right eye for a few moments. Then, with a loud crack, David felt a sharp piercing pain in his skull. He screeched in response, his voice once again traveling up his spine and out of his jaw -- this time culminating in a shriek as the pain continued. The skeleton was brought to his knees, sensations of touch -- his knees against the dirt, his hands clenching around his legs, the vibrations in his neck as he screamed -- spreading across him like wildfire. 
Finally, after a few moments, the pain swiftly faded, and David could once again see through his right socket. He looked down at the ground, and it bore a new shimmer. David ran his hands along the dark dirt, now able to feel its coarse texture against his thin, spidery hands. The skeleton then reached out and held a tuft of dead grass. He could feel its silky, delicate lengths press gently against his hand. David then gripped it and yanked it, pulling the tuft from the dirt. As he tore it from the ground, he could feel a momentary force act against him, the earth's final protest before finally letting go of its lifeless offspring. David rolled the tuft and its attached dirt clumps around between his hands, letting it all fall out and gently return to the earth below. 
Then, finally, David stood up, looking between the pair. They looked back, each wearing an expression of both concern and horror; Vici's bore more of the former, while Leni's was mostly the latter. David rested a hand on each's shoulder as he looked back and forth between them. 
"It's okay." He said softly. "I'm okay. Thank you, by the way." 
"The curse..." Muttered Vici, far more confident in its existence now that Hearn had left. "I'm so sorry, David." 
David shook his head, uncertain of what she meant, and deeply uninterested. "It's no curse, Vici. This is a gift. You heard Hearn."
The skeleton straightened his posture, looking straight ahead at the mannequin. 
"From one gravelord to another."
The skeleton's jaw curled up slightly, breaking into a grin. Leni excitedly mirrored David, resting a hand on his shoulder. David released their shoulders, instead lying a hand on top of Leni's. "Gravelord David!" He remarked excitedly.
"Come on. First order of business is getting me some clothes." With that, the pair turned around slid through the tent. David shot once last glance back at the mannequin, just to make sure it was totally lifeless, then exited. He had a lot to figure out, and, if Hearn wasn't exaggerating, about a month to do it.
--- ֎ ---