Where am I? He thought. "Where am I?" He said, out loud this time.
"Mom?" He asked, but nobody answered. Then a name came to him. His name? No. His sisters name. The name of his worst enemy. His source of sorrow. His living nightmare.
"Futureteller." He said. He had not meant to talk out loud, but he had. Then the spirits appeared. Not spirits like see through souls of the dead, but more like a strong river, not clear, but white and grey, but still a liquid. They moved like wind, never moving but getting closer.
"You are special." They said as one, their voices all together, in perfect harmony.
"You can speak to us spirits, ghosts. You are Ghostspeaker, not Starrynight. No one has had this ability in centuries. The first Ghostspeaker was your eldest ancestor, Ghostspeaker. After him, it was his son, who took the name of Ghostspeaker. It has been so
since the beginning of time. But, the final Ghostspeaker before you denied his destiny, and so the gift was destroyed. But you, Ghostspeaker, have this ability. Use it well, my son. And then they disappeared.