“Wow! So many rooms! And each for a different spiritual element, right?” Neomyra flitted around, peeking and prodding at everything in their vicinity as they traveled through all of the sealed spaces that held the Spiritking family’s most precious possessions. Joyce had first taken them to the outer rings within the estate’s first level in the hopes that what Neomyra was searching for wasn’t further underground, though despite his initial hopes, they only seemed to be travelling deeper.

But the spirit really did seem interested in almost everything they saw. And for some reason, they also knew what everything was. They could even name and explain the functions of artifacts Joyce had always wondered about, and the fact they knew even more than him only proved to make them more confusing. Because let’s be real, Neomyra said they’d been born only twenty years ago, right? And Joyce didn’t think they were lying about that. But if he were to take it as the full truth, then how did they know about all of this other stuff when the majority of it had become lost knowledge following the death of his family’s founder? In that same vein of thinking, how was it possible they knew anything about his spirituality at all when they had also remarked the knowledge was from an era no one in this current world knew of? It was almost as if Neomyra’s knowledge was misplaced somehow, even if they really had only been alive for a mere twenty years.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Oh no, it was far from it. What really had Joyce staring at them like they were an unfounded maniac was their new appearance. All of their fur had disappeared, and now that messy blond mane of theirs was all they had. It was styled in a wolf cut as society today called it, which was kind of ironic all things considered, and they had fair skin that was light in color and eyes that finally had proper sclera with lavender irises that no longer looked so feline. Their body appeared to be masculine now, with shoulders that were slender but still broader than a woman’s along with a firm and tiny waist that lacked any curves, their frame missing all muscle to instead seem soft and plump. To tie it all together, they were finally wearing clothes as well, with white harem pants tied at the ankles and a lavender crop top made from soft and thick fabric fit for royalty back in the day, the finest embroidery shining amongst their chest made from real golden threads.

Their shoeless feet were those of a human’s and their hands no longer took the shape of demon-like claws, the powerful spirit who had proven to already have many forms looking surreally… human. If Joyce were to have first met them like this, he truly would have believed that’s what they were. Seeing them in this unique form, it was impossible to tell from their physicality alone that they were a spirit, and that was something that had never been heard of before. It was impossible for a spirit to get rid of the spiritual traits that defined them, and not once had there even been a spirit born to look entirely like a human, either. Having multiple forms was already rare enough, but this…?

“You’re so unprecedented it’s giving me the creeps,” Joyce scowled at them, Neomyra’s masculine form jumping a bit as their shoulders folded inward.

“Huh…? Mister Joyce, that’s not very nice to say…”

“How many forms do you even have, huh?” Joyce ignored their complaints, observing the way Neomyra’s behavior remained very feline. They’d gone so far as to get rid of their ears, their tail, and their wings, but they still held their shoulders tense like they were constantly stalking something and would swat at whatever they found interesting instead of just picking it up like, you know… an actual human would. They darted around on the balls of their feet instead of walking properly, and were constantly dashing around and getting distracted by lights and strings, which also gave away their true identity. Agh, what an absolutely airheaded dimwit. “You know you’re not fooling anybody. Just because you hide all your nonhuman traits doesn’t mean you’ll pass as one,” Joyce proceeded to mercilessly critique them, Neomyra’s back bending further down as they cowered in front of the man.

“I’m not trying to pass as a human… I just thought this form might make you real humans feel more comfortable. You seemed spooked by me before, so…” they mumbled, batting anxiously at the strings on their clothing while Joyce only continued to stare, lost in thought.  

But June, for one, couldn’t bear this any longer. It wouldn’t be wise to oppose Joyce directly in this situation considering who he was, where they were, and the stakes that had already been made clear. But treating this poor spirit so coldly and making them wilt like that was just plain mean, so within June’s impulsive need to be the peacekeeper and to smooth things over, he wore a radiant smile and praised them openly. “I dunno about that. I think you could pass as one of us if you really wanted to, Neomyra. Really, you haven’t interacted much with humans for long periods of time, right? Once you can finally find somewhere to stick around, blending in with human behavior is just another simple skill to be learned!”

And at those words, Neomyra’s expression immediately lit up with glee, their back straightening as they moved to cover their mouth and all their giggles. “Hehe, thank you so much, Mister June! I think so too, I really like my human form! I wanna get better at it!” they shook their fists in the air with energy that was overflowing from praise, bouncing all around the room like a chaotic little bunny before dashing out the door and skipping deeper into the labyrinth. “The thing I’m looking for’s not in this room though! But don’t worry, I can sense that it’s really, really close, so just follow me!”

They were laughing like they were filled with the greatest of joys, as if they were for some reason getting high off the spiritual energy they felt going deeper into the underground manor. It was hard for most spirits to go this deep unless Joyce gave them explicit permission because of the intense pressure caused by all the thousands of seals that layered every corner of this place from the bottom to the top. He’d made sure not to give his permission to Neomyra just to see what would happen, but that appeared to be meaningless, because they only kept absorbing the power of all the great seals to the point it was making them a little loopy, and their mood was only improving. His mood, on the other hand, was steadily getting worse and worse.

“Hey, don’t run off on your own! How many times do I have to tell you that it’s my duty as the current head of the Spiritkings to keep an eye on every move you make down here?! Stop rushing our descent,” Joyce scolded while yanking them by the scruff of their crop top, the tight collar choking them slightly with the harsh pull as Neomyra clawed at the air and whined.

“Fine, fiiiine!! I’ll go slower, Mister Joyce, but just let me lead!! I can smell it, I can smell that it’s close!!” they cried and struggled, and the moment Joyce set them free, they dropped to the floor on all fours and gave him a nasty glare, which was an odd thing to see a human do. Good thing Neomyra had the excuse of not being human, though he wasn’t sure that made any of it less weird.

“Honestly, I know you said that you’re in this form to make us more comfortable, but seeing you act like an animal while using it is even freakier,” he grimaced at them, Neomyra looking suddenly horrified as they moved to grab the hair on their head.

“Really?! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I’ll fix it for you right away, Mister Joyce,” they cried out, the man merely crossing his arms in contempt when fluffy large ears, wings, and a tail popped out on their human body, the poor thing looking so distressed that it had upset him in any way.

This was what it rightfully had coming. Leveraging Joyce’s duties to make him search for an artifact in this twisted maze that only he and Isabelle would know how to navigate and pretending to be meek to earn sympathy. He would help it, but he still felt that this rougher treatment was warranted. However, despite his satisfaction, he was quickly hit on the head by his cousin with the same strength he had used on Neomyra and which Neomyra had used on her. Seriously, what was up with this…?

“Be nice to him! He’s sensitive, so you can’t be so mean! Why can’t men just be more mature?!” she snapped in his ear, tugging on the thing with force as she nagged.

“Hey, Izzy! Not me though, right? I think I’m pretty mature!”

“June, you’re the most immature person here!”

“What? Ouch, not true…”

Seriously, what did these two think they were…

Though his attention was caught when Neomyra appeared to be leading the way once more. He had wanted to try and hit as many of the early rooms as possible just to be certain since a spirit’s nose could sometimes be fickle when surrounded by so much of the same spirituality, but he should’ve predicted that wouldn’t be a problem for them. Neomyra still looked mostly human with skin instead of fur, but as they walked along the dark, rugged tunnel on all fours, their claws had returned to their hands and feet and their nose remained on the ground.

Just what could they be smelling? This estate was filled to the brim with the Spiritking family’s spiritual energy, and that was especially so down here, so it must be hard to keep a trail on any smell in particular. Not to mention, each of the former heads had rooms dedicated to them along with a tomb for each, all scattered throughout so that if an evil spirit did somehow manage to dig itself all the way in, finding one tomb wouldn’t mean they’d hit the jackpot and could help by being misleading. If Neomyra was looking for something related to Joyce’s family, and taking into consideration that they were only twenty years old… whatever had caused them to have this birth condition must be related to his father or one of the more recent heads before him, right? It would have to be an artifact his father, grandmother, or great-grandfather must have used that eventually led to the conditions that made Neomyra’s birth possible. Since they were all scattered within and not together in one place, Joyce had been willing to let Neomyra lead in the hopes they knew better than him when it came to which tomb to head to… but all they were getting was deeper and deeper, and increasingly close to places they should not be. Though, eventually, just as his suspicions spiked, the spirit stopped moving.

They were endlessly circling the same spot on the ground the moment they reached it, as if the smell that had led them there was right below. Of course, the floor below them was the one filled with all the real dangerous stuff, and was something Joyce had no intention of letting them dig through. That floor had everything to do with his family’s first head and founder, Joy Spiritking, and was the real reason this place had so many seals and why all the other heads following him scattered their tombs everywhere else around it to sacrifice themselves as red herrings. It was all to protect what was underneath there. And Joyce was getting tired of not knowing what they were looking for.

“Neomyra,” he called out to the circling spirit that still appeared to be chasing some kind of smell. They looked focused and distressed, as if for whatever reason, the smell they’d been chasing for so long had all of a sudden become too pungent, and Joyce didn’t like that face they were making one bit. “This is your last chance. What are you looking for?”

The spirit didn’t respond, and after a moment, June’s hand began to slowly ghost over the hilt of his sword. He hadn’t made the move to truly grasp it, but just knowing that someone as easygoing and warmhearted as him sensed this as a threat proved all he needed to know, and Joyce took a step back to make room for his allies while his voice thundered through.

“Neomyra, what are you looking for?! If this was all a trap you set—!”

“I found you,” was all that slipped out of the spirit’s mouth, their expression going blank as they dipped their head to the stone beneath them, the ground shimmering with a golden glow as the spirit’s head began to melt into it. Isabelle immediately called upon Luce’s power to manipulate the luck surrounding Neomyra’s movements, but it was to no avail. As if they were immune, all of Luce’s abilities bounced right off, and no matter how quick June’s reflexes were, by the time his sword landed where the spirit would’ve been, they were already gone.