Elegies are spirits woven from lost souls by the Edeia Rieve, who represents the Idea of Loss. They are fragments of those who have died, shaped by Rieve's magic into beings with purpose: to help both themselves and those who grieve for them work through loss—to understand, to feel, to grieve fully, and, when the time comes, to let go. They are not a reversal of death, nor are they a second chance at life. They are a path through the grief that death leaves behind, for the dead and the living alike.

Rieve named them in an ancient language she spoke at the time of their creation, which was understood in meaning by the Elegies she created and carried to the Elegies that came after.

Genesis

An Elegy can only be formed from a lost soul—a soul that has not passed on to the ethereal plane, typically because the circumstances of their death were sudden or unnatural, leaving them tethered to the physical plane by unresolved emotion.

Direct genesis occurs when Rieve is present and chooses to weave a lost soul into an Elegy. She uses her ability Grief's Horizon to read the weight and character of the loss—the people it will touch, the emotional knots most likely to form, and the points where resolution might be possible or where things might calcify. If she judges that the soul and those who grieve for them would benefit from this path, she weaves the soul into an Elegy. This requires her direct magic and cannot be done from a distance. Directly woven Elegies are the most stable and cognitively whole, aware of their nature and their purpose from the moment of formation.

Conditional genesis can also occur through existing Elegies. An Elegy may encounter a lost soul and, recognizing the weight of grief still tethering it, choose to expend some of their own power to give it form. They may do this actively—pouring their energy deliberately into the soul—or passively, as Elegies naturally exude a faint aura of Rieve's magic that lost souls within proximity may gradually absorb, slowly accumulating enough to take form. These indirectly formed Elegies are weaker and less stable at first, and may enter a remnant stage before fully cognizing.

Other ideogenic species can become lost souls, and thus they can become Elegies. However, they must be Ideation souls, native or naturalized. Depending on what the magic that made them ideogenic does, it may or may not linger. In the case of blighted, only their appearance that would be reflected in their form as an Elegy; they would not retain any of their ideogenic abilities. 

The Remnant Stage

Elegies that form indirectly often begin in a remnant stage: a state of limited awareness in which they are caught in the loop of their own most powerful memories, replaying them without full understanding of their situation. They are visible during this stage, though only to those with supernatural perception, and others may interact with the replaying memories—witnessing them, even participating in them—which can gently draw the Elegy toward greater awareness.

As the Elegy is interacted with and its grief is touched upon, it gradually stabilizes into fuller presence and cognition. An established Elegy can greatly accelerate this process by communicating with a remnant one, offering context and companionship. Once stabilized, a remnant Elegy becomes indistinguishable in awareness from any other, though they may take longer to develop full control over their abilities.

Fading

Elegies are not permanent. As the grief that gave them form is processed and resolved—both their own and that of those who loved them—they shed more of Rieve's magic than they absorb, and gradually fade. This is not a loss but a completion: a soul finally ready to move on to wherever souls go.

Fading does not require all grief to be perfectly resolved. Some Elegies fade when they have helped their loved ones reach a genuine readiness to release, even if not every wound has fully healed. Others linger for months, years, or decades—a quiet presence as time does its work—and eventually find that they no longer feel the pull to remain. This too is a form of letting go. Rieve considers both paths equally valid.

If an Elegy develops new reasons to stay—new attachments, new purposes—they may choose to remain even after their initial grief has resolved, for as long as those reasons hold.

Appearance

Elegies appear as translucent, pale-outlined figures, their forms suggesting the shape of who they were in life without being entirely solid. They are composed of Rieve's magic, which manifests as pale, cold flame—the same flame that appears on Rieve's own crest. When an Elegy is calm, this flame is subtle, present at the edges of their form like the soft light of a candle. When their emotions peak—grief, longing, rage, joy—their form flickers and produces licks of pale flame, sometimes intensely.

The appearance of their eyes can vary, and the same Elegy can shift between different eye appearances at will or depending on their emotional state. They can have full pale irises, irises the color of their soul, fully pale eyes, and other variants. Note that there are no qualities or personality traits attached to a soul's color; it is simply how its ethereal essence is expressed through visible light.  

When not actively present or between periods of engagement with the living, an Elegy may condense into a small, quiet ball of pale flame. This is not strictly necessary for their existence, but allows them to set aside the effort of full presence and rest. In this state, they are not aware of their surroundings and can recover energy they may have expended. 

Elegies have no fixed appearance beyond these qualities; their forms reflect who they were, and may vary considerably from one to another. They may choose how they appear within the range of their flame-translucent nature.

Abilities and Characteristics

Intangibility

Elegies are completely intangible, unable to interact with any physical objects. However, they do feel cold, and anyone and anything they pass through will become slightly colder. 

Visibility

Elegies directly woven by Rieve can control their visibility at will from formation. Those who form indirectly begin invisible and can only manifest visibly for short periods before needing to rest. With time and stabilization, their control over visibility grows.

By default, Elegies are invisible to mundane perception and only faintly perceptible to those with supernatural senses. When they choose to become visible, they appear as described above.

Telekinesis

Generally, Elegies' telekinetic abilities are extremely limited. By expending a fair bit of energy, they may be able to exert small forces to accomplish minor acts such as rolling over a pen, fluttering a curtain, knocking something over, or creating a gust of wind. The more force required and the more complex the action, the more energy it takes. An Elegy may be able to flutter a curtain several times before becoming too tired to continue, or write a very short message (1-2 words, using something like a pen, drawing in spilled ink, or writing on frosted glass for instance) before needing to rest for several days. 

They may "interact" with objects as if they were holding them physically, but since they are intangible and can do it from a distance, it is better classified as telekinesis. 

Perception

Elegies can weakly sense the surface emotions and thoughts of those nearby without consent—a passive awareness that may be relevant when they are not yet strong enough to communicate directly. Those who are fully willing to open themselves to an Elegy allow it to read their emotions and thoughts completely.

Elegies also possess a form of psychometry: by touching or lingering near a location or object, they can sense vague impressions of what occurred there and what emotions were present. This ability is impressionistic rather than precise, and complex or layered histories may be murky.

Rieve's magic guides each Elegy toward those most essential to their process: those who are grieving for them and those who may be relevant to the resolution of their loss. This guidance is not infallible, but it orients the Elegy toward the truth of their situation rather than allowing grief to misdirect them.

Communication

Elegies have no physical voice and communicate entirely through a form of telepathy. Unlike Edeia telepathy, which can be perceived as external sound, an Elegy's communication is experienced as an inner voice—thoughts, feelings, and impressions that may at first be difficult to distinguish from one's own.

In their weakest states, they can only transmit raw emotion, a sudden surfacing of grief or longing that the living person may not recognize as external. As they grow stronger, they can transmit images and impressions, and eventually a distinct inner voice that perceptive individuals may begin to recognize as separate from their own thoughts.

Elegies can communicate fully and easily with other spirits—beings whose existence is non-physical—including other Elegies. An Elegy who encounters a remnant Elegy can reach them directly and help guide them toward awareness.

Draining

Elegies passively drain warmth from their surroundings and from those nearby. This warmth is slowly converted into their own energy, helping them grow stronger and more stable or recover energy they've used. This draining is not enough to cause harm, but can be noticeable when their ghostly form "touches" someone or something. When they are agitated, they drain more warmth. 

Possession

Under most circumstances, Elegies may only perform passenger possession—residing within a willing host and communicating through them, sharing senses and thoughts, but not controlling the body. This form of possession typically requires the host's willingness and is often a means of more direct communication when other methods fall short. It is possible to skip consent for non-sapient animals, but if the animal is resisting or in distress about the possession in some way, an Elegy can become exhausted or be pushed out quickly.  

Under extreme emotional pressure, and often only when an Elegy genuinely believes it is the sole viable path toward resolution, total possession may become possible. This is rare and typically an act of desperation, and it is exhausting—an Elegy who attempts it will require significant rest afterward and may temporarily lose control of their visibility.

Elegies are also capable of possessing inanimate objects, and doing so can mildly dampen their presence. Passenger possession of an object is straightforward: the Elegy resides within it, able to observe and communicate as normal, but they are unable to move it or otherwise interact with the outside world through it. They can also rest while possessing an inanimate object. Total possession of an object lets an Elegy move the object, effectively performing telekinesis from within rather than at a distance. It is somewhat easier than moving the same object from afar, but still draws on the same limited reserves as any other telekinetic feat, scaling with the object's weight and the complexity of the motion.

A soulless body—a corpse, a braindead body, a body that never held a soul, or a constructed vessel—is just a more complex object to possess. There is no will to override, so it can be done at any time, but difficulty arises from animating a body with no living nervous system to lend it coordination. An Elegy attempting this can typically manage a little halting movement and a few strained words—half voice, half telepathic bleed-through—before exhaustion forces them to rest. In Reunion, possession vessels made by the UNS Accessibility Division are also an option—see the Magitechnology section in United Society Details. 

Possession alone cannot sustain a body biologically; an Elegy's presence grants no vitality. A body without a soul typically dies quickly, and it will do so with or without being possessed by an Elegy. 

Dirges are a subspecies of Elegy, woven jointly by Rieve and Malice from lost souls whose deaths were unjust—where the grief left behind is tangled with resentment, and where that resentment has legitimate ground to stand on. Where Elegies are woven from loss alone, Dirges carry Malice's power alongside Rieve's: a darker flame, and teeth.

They are created not for the express purpose of harm; they are created because some losses cannot be resolved peacefully, and Rieve, after millennia of witnessing unjust deaths, accepted that a gentle ghost is sometimes not enough. Their resentment is real, and as Dirges, they are given power to act on it. Whether they ultimately find peace or carry their bitterness eternally is a matter of a Dirge's own path.

The name Dirge was Malice's suggestion—a play on Rieve's ancient name for Elegies, similar in spirit yet with a darker tone. 

Genesis

Dirges require the combined power of both Rieve and Malice to weave directly. Rieve uses Grief's Horizon to read the nature of the loss; Malice reads the malice present in the hearts involved. Together, they determine whether the loss is one that warrants a Dirge—whether the resentment is grounded in genuine injustice, and whether a path exists in which it might lead somewhere meaningful. Each Dirge is a shared decision.

Because direct weaving requires both Rieve and Malice to be present together, directly woven Dirges are relatively rare. Rieve may seek out Malice for particular cases she cannot resolve with an Elegy, but she does so selectively, favoring softer paths where they are viable.

Existing Elegies can also be transformed into Dirges by Malice. This may occur if the nature of an Elegy's loss and grief shifts towards resentment and desire to harm. The Elegy could then seek out Malice, or Malice could be drawn to their festering emotions. If Malice so desires, they can then darken the magic that sustains them, transforming them into a Dirge. 

Conditional genesis operates the same way as for Elegies: existing Dirges may weave new Dirges from lost souls, either actively or through the passive absorption of their aura. These indirect Dirges are less stable at first and may enter a remnant stage before fully cognizing.

During the period of Malice's containment within their Abstraction, only existing Dirges could create new Dirges, with no oversight from either of their creators. Some of the wilder and more volatile Dirges of the Age of Secrecy trace their origins to this period.

The Remnant Stage

As with Elegies, indirect Dirges may begin in a remnant stage. Remnant Dirges differ from remnant Elegies in that they are more reactive to external presences—where a remnant Elegy is caught inward, replaying memories, a remnant Dirge may respond intensely to those who enter its awareness, with amplified and volatile emotional responses. Approaching a remnant Dirge without care can be destabilizing for both parties.

The same path toward stabilization applies: interaction, witnessing, communication from an established Dirge. The process may take longer, given the volatility involved.

Fading

Dirges can fade peacefully, as Elegies do. Their path is simply harder: their resentment must find resolution, whether through the injustice being addressed, acknowledged, or answered in some form, or through time gradually releasing the grip of what was done to them.

A Dirge who cannot or will not resolve their resentment—who holds it beyond the point where time and circumstance might have allowed release—may become functionally immortal. So long as that bitterness remains, they will not fade. This is considered one of the sadder fates available to a Dirge: not dangerous, exactly, but a wound that never closed, a grief that never finished.

Appearance

Dirges share the base appearance of Elegies—translucent, flame-outlined, condensing to a ball of flame at rest—but carry Malice's influence in their appearance. Their flame is black rather than pale and their forms may exhibit demonic characteristics: horns, the suggestion of wings, greater shadow-mass beneath or around the fire. These characteristics vary between individuals, and their degree may reflect the weight of the resentment they carry—a Dirge largely at peace may appear almost like an Elegy with darker flame, while one carrying centuries of unresolved bitterness may appear with more distortions and demonic characteristics.

The appearance of their eyes can vary, and the same Dirge can shift between different eye appearances at will or depending on their emotional state. They can have full black irises, irises the color of their soul, fully black eyes, and other variants. 

When they are very agitated, the form of some Dirges can become monstrous, losing any resemblance to their previous species. Their shape becomes unstable, a constantly-shifting mass of black flames that may separate and merge in twisting licks of darkness. 

Abilities and Characteristics

Dirges possess all abilities of Elegies, with the following additions and modifications.

Visibility and Tangibility

Dirges directly woven by Rieve and Malice can control both their visibility and their tangibility at will from formation. Indirect Dirges begin with limited control over both, developing greater range as they stabilize.

Tangibility allows a Dirge to physically interact with the world—to touch, to move objects, to make themselves felt. It can be controlled deliberately, though strong emotion may cause involuntary fluctuations, making them tangible when they mean to be intangible or intangible when they mean to be tangible. 

Telekinesis

Dirges have notably stronger telekinetic abilities compared to Elegies. Weak Dirges can still accomplish minor feats without much effort, and stronger, more stable Dirges can freely manipulate physical objects, though it takes more energy as they exert more force (such as by moving many things or heavy things), and expending too much energy will force them into their resting state.

Perception

Dirges share the perceptive abilities of Elegies, with the modification that they can read the emotions and thoughts of others without consent and to greater depth. Uninvited deep reading causes headaches in the subject—a warning that may alert a perceptive person to the Dirge's presence.

Rieve and Malice's combined magic guides each Dirge toward the truth of their situation with particular focus on identifying fault—who bears genuine responsibility for the injustice of their loss. This guidance is impressionistic and not infallible, but it orients the Dirge toward accurate resentment rather than misdirected anger. When a Dirge acts against someone who is not truly at fault, something in their nature registers the wrongness of it—a discomfort that, in a sufficiently self-aware Dirge, may give them pause.

Communication

Dirges have the same communication abilities as Elegies, but the inner voice quality of a Dirge's communication is heavier—thoughts given unusual weight and persistence, a coldness that a perceptive person may recognize as not entirely their own. A Dirge in an unwilling host's thoughts may feel like darker instincts made louder.

Draining

Dirges can drain physical energies—warmth, light—from their surroundings and from those nearby. This is an ability used by choice, though Dirges who carry resentment rooted in having been made to feel invisible or erased may use it more instinctively, reaching for presence and attention in the only way available to them.

Very powerful Dirges—typically those who have existed for a long time and have been gradually accumulating strength—can drain vitality: the force that binds a soul to a living body. Vitality draining is possible only against specific targets of the Dirge's resentment, and only against those who are genuinely at fault for their loss. A Dirge cannot drain vitality from bystanders or misdirected targets.

Sustained vitality draining causes progressively worsening effects: inexplicable chronic illness, dizziness, bleeding, and in severe cases, death—the connection of soul to body simply snapping. However, this process is slow and gradual; a Dirge must shave away vitality little by little over time before they develop the strength to take enough to be truly dangerous. This is not an efficient method of harm, but it is effective at causing suffering.

Directly woven Dirges begin with a stronger baseline, but still require time to develop the capacity for vitality draining. The process cannot be rushed without consequence.

Possession

Dirges can perform full possession of the living, not only passenger possession. As with all their more severe abilities, this requires time and accumulated strength; newly formed Dirges, even direct ones, are not capable of it immediately.

A Dirge's superior tangibility and telekinesis allow far greater precision and endurance compared to Elegies when possessing objects and soulless bodies. When the task serves their resentment, a Dirge may push through fatigue to sustain it for days, though the rebound exhaustion scales with how hard they push.

Indirect Influence

Beyond direct action, Dirges have a range of subtler approaches: causing nightmares, whispering intrusive thoughts, amplifying paranoia, or working on those around their target to shift perception and turn others against them. These methods reflect the specific character of the Dirge's resentment, and which they favor tends to emerge naturally from who they were and what was done to them.

Behaviors

Dirges share the solitary, purposeful nature of Elegies, but with greater emotional intensity. Their emotions spike more sharply—stronger grief, stronger rage, stronger joy—though they are equally capable of calm. The volatility is always present as potential; it does not define them.

Their resentment, while real and sometimes dangerous, is constitutionally focused. Rieve and Malice's combined magic orients it toward those genuinely responsible for the injustice of their loss. A Dirge whose resentment begins to drift toward the world at large, toward anyone in reach, is likely a Dirge who has lost the thread of their own grief—a sign of deterioration. Their resentment may then proceed to unravel, leading to their fading.

What resolution looks like for a Dirge varies. For some, it is justice: the truth of what was done to them revealed, the responsible party made to face it. For some, it is acknowledgment—simply being seen and believed. For others, resolution comes gradually, quietly, as time and the living world shift around them and the weight of what happened becomes easier to carry. Some never find it. Those ones remain.

Epitaphs are a subspecies and hybrid of Elegy born from grief and the burden of memory—souls who yearn to be remembered in some way, especially in a way that reconciles who they were with how they are seen after their deaths.

Many originate from circumstances that have distorted how they are remembered as: victims of brutal crimes or unfortunate circumstances, leaving behind the desire to be seen not as eternal victims and footnotes, but as individuals in their own right.

They were named ‘Epitaphs’ based on the meaning of the expression: words and poems made in memory of the deceased.

Genesis

Epitaphs come from two known methods of origin: they may be woven into existence with the powers of both Rieve and Myosotis, sourced from lost souls that carry not only grief, but memory, or they may originate from an Elegy who has found themselves burdened with memory once the grief has abated.

Commonly, Epitaphs are Elegies that have been further changed by Myosotis’ power—those who were created as-is are relatively rare as it requires the active presence and participation of both Edeia.

Conditional genesis from existing Epitaphs is a possibility, although this often takes longer: an Epitaph will have to actively pour in their energy to hasten the process, which can be an exhausting affair.

The Remnant Stage

The remnant stage of Epitaphs differ from Elegies and Dirges in that they are cognizant from the onset: they are aware of their circumstances and what ails them, but they may be trapped in their memories in the sense that they find it difficult to pull themselves away from memories that burden them—they may be compelled to repeatedly bring past events up to others, or engage in various habits and compulsions in an attempt to alleviate their concerns. Many are also distorted by the gravity of memory: they may sport the appearance they may have had in their death, or at their lowest points, which can be disturbing to witness.

As an Epitaph stabilizes, they find it easier to focus on the present rather than the past: their powers also begin to stabilize, and taking on a proper form becomes less of a challenge and more of second nature. 

Fading 

Among the subspecies of Elegies, Epitaphs often face an uphill battle when it comes to fading: their closure demands that they are remembered in the proper manner, rather than in the distorted way that others see them as. As such, they have a propensity towards enduring, although some may let go of the weight that they carry, and thus find satisfaction in that manner.

Some older Epitaphs consider endurance a bittersweet ending: they may be unable to move on, but they make it their mission to avoid others taking on the same fate that they have, even if it means an eternity of staying tethered to the physical plane. 

Appearance 

Epitaphs appear similar to the Elegies in that they are translucent and flame-outlined entities capable of turning into a mote of flame at rest, but Myosotis’ magic has granted them more physicality: parts of their body are somewhat filled, with wisps of energy emanating from their bodies, while their flame has shifted to a deeper blue. Epitaphs in particular may occasionally take on other “memorized appearances”: their appearance in their youth, or a distorted appearance based on how others remember them as.

The appearance of their eyes can vary, shifting appearances through will or due to their emotional state. They may have irises the color of their soul, solid blue ones, among others.

Agitation and strong emotions distort Epitaphs: their form destabilizes and may warp to various “forms of memory”, wisps of smoke and blue flame emanating from their body with fervor. 

Abilities and Characteristics 

Epitaphs share the abilities of Elegies, albeit with the following additions and modifications. 

Visibility and Tangibility

Epitaphs, by default, are capable of visibility, although only those who are directly woven have immediate control over this ability—those indirectly created will struggle with making themselves visible, sometimes flickering or fading from one’s vision until they have had the time to stabilize.

Tangibility for Epitaphs is a partial affair—they are capable of it to a point, often described by others as something similar to a soft breeze. They may be felt as light touches, a shift in the air that cannot be explained by the wind, and so on.

Telekinesis

Epitaphs employ moderate potential over telekinesis: they can jostle and move relatively light physical objects, but they do not have the same capabilities that truly physical beings have, only able to perform such feats for a short amount of time.

They are, however, capable of much stronger psychometry: reaching out to grasp onto something with their telekinesis allows them to glean the precise history of the targeted object, with concentration and power expended dictating just how much they are able to see.

Perception

Epitaphs have similar perceptive abilities to that of Elegies, although they are capable of greater reading, as well as the ability to slip deeper into the minds of other beings and to read their memories, with or without consent. If this is performed without consent, the subject may feel something akin to brain fog, as if something is obscuring their mind from them.

Both Rieve and Myosotis’ power guides the Epitaphs towards memories and associations, with the goal of finding memories that have distorted one’s perception of a particular individual. The goal of this is of alleviating that and orienting the memory into something more accurate, especially if it involves the Epitaph personally.

Communication

Epitaphs have the same communication abilities as that of Elegies, but there is something almost wistful in the quality of their voice—those who have heard an Epitaph communicate may compare it to a memory just barely out of reach.

Draining

Epitaphs can consciously drain not just physical energies, but something more mental—associations, emotions, and similar concepts. A room may feel strangely stale and lifeless, as if all color has been washed out of it.

More critically, an Epitaph of sufficient power and experience can drain memories—this may be broad, or particularly targeted, allowing them to handpick and select memories to remove from a subject. Under most circumstances, this is temporary: the memories return after enough time has passed, although particularly traumatic and scarring memories may be more permanently erased.

Possession

Epitaphs are capable of passenger possession under most circumstances, but can fully possess another individual so long as the subject is burdened by memory—those who cannot stop but keep recalling a certain incident, or those who have trapped themselves in some kind of experience.

Given their moderate telekinetic abilities, they are able to possess objects or soulless bodies with more precision and endurance than Elegies, but not nearly as much as Dirges. They can sustain clumsy movement and speech for a short while, ranging from a few minutes to around an hour.

Behaviors

Epitaphs, due to the nature of their existence, are a touch more social than Elegies—their yearning to be remembered demands a particular level of socialization, although their idea of what comprises “socialization” may not necessarily fit usual conventions.

They are somewhat prone to reminiscence and introspection: they tend to consider things from a more internal perspective—their own grief and memory, as well as how those concepts affect others.

Satisfaction for Epitaphs is a nebulous subject and subject to personal interpretation: many wish to be remembered not as victims but as the people they were before, but others demand to be seen as who they are in the present, rather than what they were in the past. It is these aspects that make resolution for many of them challenging.