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Perpetua sat on the windowsill, legs dangling over the frigid mist that draped itself over the grounds below, curling around the ministry and breathing frost against the windowpanes. Fragile snowflakes dusted Perpetua's hair and cassock, settling in his pale eyelashes and swirling in each puff of crystallised breath. The world outside the window was quiet and still, the fog undisturbed aside from the softest snowfall.
It hurt to breathe. Each breath took far, far too much effort and it hurt. Something had long since laced itself through his bones, tightening around his ribcage painfully slowly. He could not remember when it had started and he doubted it would ever stop.
“Ciao, vespertilio.” The low voice was accented, almost a purr, and eerily familiar.
Perpetua tensed at the greeting but didn’t bother tearing his eyes away from the snow. In his periphery he could see the owner of the voice settle next to him, gracefully swinging his legs over the windowsill. Neither spoke, but Perpetua could feel the spectre’s eyes on him, studying his profile.
Copia had told him about the ghosts. His twin was constantly staring into space and muttering replies to criticism Perpetua could not hear. It had not taken long for him to realise who his brother’s shadows were.
Finally he tilted his head enough to look at the figure.
“Why are you here?”
His predecessor smiled, ignoring the question and folding his gloved hands neatly in his lap.
Terzo had existed with a kind of effortless elegance, just as imposing as his older brothers but with velvet words and a sharp tongue. Even in death his paint remained near flawless, but Perpetua could see where tears had traced pale, shaky lines down his cheeks. He was handsome in the same vampiric way most of the devoted now saw Perpetua. Instead of the snowflakes dusting his dark suit, they fell through him onto the frosted windowsill. His breath did nothing to disturb their drifting path the way Perpetua’s did.
Shivering with a cold he could not feel he leant his head back against the window frame, pointedly exposing his throat. The movement drew Perpetua’s gaze to the only detail betraying the phantom’s fate. A thin line cut cleanly through his neck, only barely visible beneath the collar of his shirt, a sharp reminder of his demise.
“The memories hurt more than the wounds, no?”
His white eye glowed as he studied the younger man's reaction, smiling gently when he saw understanding wash over his features.
Perpetua reached for the straps that pinned his hair against his skull, considering for a moment before he set his mask aside. The inky black paint encircled his eyes, covering his nose and cheeks where the mask didn’t reach, leaving the ghostly white echo of it. The paint still did not fully conceal what the mask hid. Thin lines of scarring formed a shaky V that sliced twice through his left eyebrow and ending just below his cheekbone.
He frowned in an effort to stop his suddenly blurry vision, stilling under Terzo’s gaze. The apparition studied him carefully, picking up the faint similarities in their features and the almost indiscernible echoes of Nihil the twins shared. The eldest emeritus had a poor stand-in for his three younger brothers, and worse to his own children.
For the first time, Perpetua could not find judgment behind the mismatched eyes staring back at him. There was nothing that betrayed any reaction at all. Neither spoke. Anxiety crept up Perpetua’s spine, lacing its way through his ribs like the mist far below.
Terzo’s careful indifference was suddenly replaced with a grin.
“The old bastard never did have much luck with his daughters, no?”
Without thinking Perpetua let his hand drift from his face to where the two long scars met beneath the fabric of his cassock. The spectre on the windowsill cocked his head, mirroring Perpetua’s action and running his fingertips over his matching scars, invisible under his shirt. Perpetua’s eyes widened, realising what the ghost was implying. He was beginning to understand the comments about similarities.
Terzo’s mismatched eyes followed a lone snowflake into void, lost in thought for a moment.
“I would have liked to have known you, Perpetua.”
The weight against Perpetua’s ribs crept tighter, and he wrapped his arms around himself as though he could push it all away. Tears clouded his eyes and he brushed them away, blurring the makeup under his fingertips. If the ghost beside him noticed, he said nothing.
The pair sat in silence, watching the snowfall disappear into the mist below.
“They let you have piercings.”
Perpetua laughed, tilting his face to show off the glittering silver that decorated his pointed ears, lips and nose. In the dim light he could see Terzo had the faintest of scars where piercings might once have been.
“There was no one to tell me not to.”
The spectre looked him up and down, narrowing his eyes for a moment.
“You are taller than your twin and I, si? So maybe my pants will not fit, but the rest of my clothes may.”
For a heartbeat Perpetua blinked owlishly. Then his mask of quiet composure shattered and he smiled, dagger-sharp fangs on display.
The wind began to howl, teasing his raven curls and biting at his skin. Terzo shifted weightlessly from the windowsill. It was not as though he was able to feel the cold, but it was not for his sake.
“Come fratello, before you freeze.”
Numb from the frigid winter air, Perpetua hummed something noncommittal and swung his feet to the floor.
“It was nice to finally meet you, Perpetua.”
By the time the man had brushed the snowflakes from his cassock the ghost had vanished without a word. Perpetua closed the window, leaning his cheek against the cold glass to watch as the snowfall became the beginnings of a storm.
It still hurt, but the grief that pressed in from all sides had loosened its claws for a moment.