Chapter Two: Difficult

It was all just a haze, a swirling, clouded mess showcasing light filtering through the darkness. But from the swirling chaos came two figures, one male, one female; one dark, one light. They were dancing, or so it seemed. Their movements were sharp, furious, yet with such elegance that it hardly seemed possible. Around and around the two figures twirled, the power hidden within the bodies was obvious. And frightening. Yet one was not more powerful than the other. One did not move faster or sharper than the other. It was an intricate balance of power, somehow deadly, in a way that no one could quite understand. Passionate.

The two figures went faster and faster in the dream as Arthur fought to come into consciousness. Just before his eyes opened, his brain making sense of what he was seeing, the last image he had was that of the male figure, the darker one, being pulled away, forcibly ripped from his methodical dance, a strange, unnatural silence coming between the two dancers. The female stood by helplessly, trying to dance alone, to maintain balance, but it was impossible. The blue light around her was growing bright and brighter, nothing there to dim its energy, nothing to keep her from going too fast, nothing to keep her balanced!

Flashing lights of bright blue and smoldering purple invaded the young wizard's vision just as his eyes snapped open unpleasantly as his head throbbed. To his surprise, he opened them to find that the intense blue light was there before him, staring and burning into his very soul. Yet the fire was contained within large eyes in the kindly face of a young woman.

Sitting up instantly, the young Englishman nearly bumped his head against the woman's in his attempt to wake up. "B-bloody hell!" he gasped.

The young woman giggled as she moved her head back, saving it from being hit, her pretty face scrunching up slightly in her amusement. Blonde hair adorned her head, not so very long, just to her mid-neck, and around her more rounded, sweet face. She had dimples while she laughed, and her smile was large, showing off bright white teeth. Her cheeks were full and pink from her giggles, and her body was fit and trim and…

"Good God, put on some clothes!" Arthur averted his eyes instantly, holding up his hands, face scarlet as he tried not to peek over at the young woman who seemed completely comfortable with being stark naked in his…room? Why was he lying on the floor in his room?

The girl cocked her head to the side, obviously confused, but the Brit refused to look her direction. "Is that what you command?" she asked, her voice strong, powerful.

"Y-yes, I want you t-to put on something!" he squeaked. Should he help her find something? He wasn't even sure his legs would work at the moment. He was so confused. What happened? Why was he on the floor? Who was this girl? Why was she naked? Her eyes seemed so…

Then it struck him. "You're the spirit I summoned!" he gasped, turning to look at her, as she still stood still, not seeming to understand how amazing her presence in the human world really was.

"Yes," she nodded.

Fumbling, trying to get his legs under him, Arthur managed to stand, before he grabbed a blanket off his bed and instantly threw it over the girl. Spirit he corrected instantly. The blonde pulled it off her head, looking at the blanket in wonder as well as a bit of annoyance as she held it out. "What is this?" she asked.

"Wrap it around yourself," Arthur said, averting his eyes to stare down at his feet.

"Why?" asked the spirit.

"Because I told you to!" he blurted out, voice rising in his panic. Everything would be so much simpler if the girl were clothed!

Almost instantly, the command was obeyed and the spirit wrapped the old, dark green blanket around her slender form. When he was sure that she was at least decent enough to look at, Arthur turned up his eyes and was met with a smile from the spirit, who seemed completely serene, if not a bit excited. He couldn't believe it. He had really called a spirit! And it was here in his bedroom in all its glory.

"Wicked," he sighed in awe.

The girl turned to look over at Arthur, puzzled. "What is?" she asked, frowning.

Realizing his mistake, Arthur shook his head. "Never mind," he muttered. "Wh-who are you?" he asked, unable to keep the excitement off his face. He had really done it! He had called a spirit!

The girl's smile grew impossibly large, and there was an almost arrogance in her features as she bowed her head low to Arthur, who ate up the act like a starving dog. "I am the Spirit of Light," she introduced. "You are the one who summoned me."

"Th-the S-Spirit of Light?" the other blonde's voice hitched as he gawked at the girl.

He had been expecting a tree spirit or even some sort of animal spirit, but the Spirit of Light?! Not much was really known about the spirits except that there were many of them and they apparently had a hierarchy similar to humans. There were lesser spirits, assigned to specific creatures or objects, and those who encompassed many areas. But the two most mythical among all of the spirits in The Otherworld, were the Spirits of Light and Darkness. From snippets collected from other spirits in the past, the Spirits of Light and Darkness were among the most powerful, if not the most powerful, because their influence was in everything. There was darkness in the depths of the water, there was light in creating heat. Darkness and Light were vague, and yet completely definable. They were the spirits more feared in ancient times because no one knew what they would look like and how they would react while on Earth.

But now, it seemed, Arthur had broken that tentative barrier between The Otherworld and the Human Realm. He began shaking slightly, as the spirit glanced over him. "You are my master?" she asked.

Standing there stupidly, it took the young wizard a moment to collect his thoughts before he nodded vigorously. "Yes! Yes I am your new master," he said quickly. He felt uncomfortable when the spirit stared at him expectantly, yet he had no idea what else he was supposed to do.

"You…have nothing for me?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

It was actually quite adorable, but he forced that thought away. Now was not the time to admire the beauty of the spirit! One would think that he had just seen a pretty lady walk into the café the way he was acting, not meeting an all-powerful spirit! It was truly a despicable beginning for the young wizard trying to convince himself and others that he was matured and powerful.

Trying to refocus, the Englishman tried to remember her words. Have something for her? What did she mean by that? "Oh!" he nodded again, believing he understood her clearly. "Yes, I have my command for you."

The spirit narrowed her blazing blue eyes for a moment, just staring, before nodding slowly herself, mimicking his motion tentatively. "Very well," she said. "What are your commands?"

"My commands are…are…" Arthur trailed off. Honestly, he had absolutely no idea what he should ask of the spirit. He hadn't really thought on it much. He had only just made the decision to actually try and summon a spirit after dinner, and if he were honest with himself, he had never actually expected it to work, on his first try no less! What should he ask one of the most powerful spirits in The Otherworld to do? Could he even command her? To bind her to his will? Was that even possible with such a spirit as this?

So much good could come from the Spirit of Light, Arthur suddenly realized. Not just for him—…though mostly for him—but for the world! What should he ask of this spirit? He could not abuse her powers, could not be completely selfish—though even he knew that he would be, just a little. A spirit as powerful as the Spirit of Light could potentially do so much damage to the World. An involuntary shudder ran down his spine as he remembered the stories of his grandfather's disgrace. He could not allow something like that to happen. Not ever again. But how could he use this nearly limitless power he'd been given?

"I command you to be helpful," the Englishman decided at last, hoping his voice sounded authoritative to the powerful being who stared at him thoughtfully. "I command you to be helpful and…and…to answer any questions posed to you." His senior thesis was still at the back of his mind. He wasn't going to let the opportunity of such a great potential of knowledge pass him by.

"Helpful and answer questions," the spirit repeated back, smiling. "Is that all?"

"Ah, no, there are others!" his mind buzzed with more possibilities. "You must call me 'Master' when we are alone, though you cannot tell anyone that I am the one who summoned you. Or that you're even a spirit at all. If they figure it out…well, just don't tell them I am your master."

A sly look over came the girl's face, and for the first time since her being completely naked next to him, the spirit bowed her head before smiling charmingly, in a manner Arthur didn't completely trust. "And who, may I ask, is my master?"

An old story, a myth more like, sprang up in the youngest Kirkland's mind at the prodding for his identity, a story of a foolish wizard who had given his name to a spirit. The spirit had served the man faithfully for just a bit before it had betrayed its master and sent him back into the Otherworld. The spirit, it was said, was able to live its life on Earth after, some said as an elf, who continued to trick the human race now that it was free from the enslavement of its world.

Maybe scholars did not believe the old tale, said it was nothing but a story to frighten children away from trying to summon the spirits, but Arthur wasn't too sure about that. At least not anymore. Why would the spirit ask his name in such a way? She looked too eager to learn this information for the wizard's tastes. Could she gain some sort of power over him if she knew?

"My name is not important," Arthur sniffed sticking up his nose. "And as my last, finally command, I order you to never speak my name out loud."

The blue eyes narrowed angrily, and for just a moment, the young man worried that the being before him might very well strike him down, but instead, the girl's pretty face scrunched up in bitterness as she turned those blazing eyes of hers down towards the floor. "Yes, Master," she hissed. "If that is what you would like."

Sighing in relief, the blonde man nodded before looking about his room again. It was pretty much how it had been the night before, with the exception of papers lying about and books that got knocked off the shelves. It was almost like nothing supernatural had happened at all. Hopefully to the others outside this room, that was the case as well.

But he could not think of that at the moment. The first priority here was to get clothes for the female spirit. Walking to his closet, the wizard pulled out an old pair of slacks that were too small for him as well as a simple button down shirt and some underwear. Blushing, he held all of it out to the Spirit of Light, looking anywhere but her. "Here. Put these on."

The spirit looked from the clothes to Arthur and back, not making a move to take them. Instead, she adorned a haughty expression as she sniffed snootily at him. "Would that be helpful, Master?"

Arthur stood stunned for a moment before dread slowly started to come over him. She was being difficult. His spirit was being difficult. The spirits weren't supposed to be difficult once you laid down the laws for them, were they? Sure, there were stories of masters being tricked, but he had always assumed that was because the other humans had been too stupid and not powerful enough to control their spirits or think to ban the whole name thing. But here he was, still a wizard-in-training powerful enough to summon one of the oldest, most powerful spirits in the Otherworld, went through all the safeguards of making sure he stayed safe, and his spirit was still being difficult!

No, she wasn't just being difficult, Arthur realized, she was being resentful. She resented him for not telling her his name and for banning her from ever speaking it out loud. The old story went that if the spirit said its master's name three times, it could send the human into the abyss of the Otherworld. No one knew what became of the humans that went into the other side. All that was known was that there was a lot of screaming when they went in and they never came back out.

For the first time since the spirit had been torn from the Otherworld, Arthur began to think that perhaps this hadn't been the best of ideas to call the spirit out. He hadn't really been sure what he expected the spirits to be like when he'd decided to summon one, but he was sure it wasn't like this one. She was so…alive, so…real. Too real. A part of him hadn't really expected a spirit to be so very humanlike. Humans were so flawed, so imperfect. Since he was a child, Arthur had seen the spirits as something so above humanity, something almost perfect. Perhaps he had been confusing them with angels, the creatures that resided in Heaven and so very different than the spirits, but still. Because of this apparent misconception, it left him feeling not only just the slightest bit disappointed, but afraid. The angels of Heaven were protectors and guardians, the spirits had their own sets of rules and codes. Spirits didn't have to necessarily play nice.

But all this aside, the young wizard-to-be was still wondering how he was ever going to control this apparently difficult and willful spirit. There was no doubt she'd do as commanded in the end, spirits were bound to their masters as such, but as he was rapidly learning, that didn't necessarily mean that the spirits would carry out commands willingly or easily for their master. For the first time in his life, Arthur began to wonder if his grandfather's disgrace had come not just because of the unlucky coincidence of his spirit running in to its opposite. Perhaps Charles Kirkland, the most powerful wizard of his time in Europe, really couldn't handle his spirit. Perhaps Charles hadn't been as powerful as Arthur had always thought…

Regaining his composure, the young man straightened his features out of their shock and into, what he hoped, was an authoritative scowl. Straightening up to his full height, which he just realized was the same as the girl's sadly enough, squaring his shoulders, he nodded once, hoping he appeared severe. "Yes, actually," he growled. "It would be most helpful if you would. Just as it would be helpful for you not to give me so much attitude."

Instead of looking impressed, the spirit continued to glare at him with narrowed eyes before she complied with his request. She shot out and grabbed the clothes with one hand, causing Arthur to jump in surprise, before she let the blanket fall. The young man instantly turned away, red in the face, wondering how the girl could be so immodest. When he finally had enough courage to look back at his spirit, he saw he just finish pulling on the shirt…though she left it unbuttoned…like her pants were.

"Done!" the spirit declared, giggling as she ran her fingers over the material in a strange sort of fascination.

"You most certainly are not," Arthur scoffed. "Button it all up!"

The spirit cocked her head to the side, as if confused, and for a moment, Arthur thought she was being difficult again. He glared at her for a moment, only to realize that she was confused. She didn't seem to know what to do. She was the immortal Spirit of Light from the Otherworld now condensed down into the body of a human girl. Why on earth would such a powerful, otherworldly creature wear clothes at all, let alone ones with buttons?

So, with a scarlet face, the blonde young man walked over to the spirit cautiously, and she watched him interestedly. Reluctantly, he reached out and helped her button her clothes. Bright blue eyes seemed to burn into him as he worked, and he tried his best to ignore her.

When he was almost done, the spirit was practically jumping up and down. "Let me try! Let me try!" she exclaimed excitedly as she slapped his hands away.

He watched in amazement as the mighty Spirit of Light, reduced to a young, childish looking woman with big blue eyes and rounded face, attempted to button up her shirt, fingers fumbling over themselves as though they didn't know what to do or how to function. She was in such a state of concentration, her tongue was even poking out at the side, like that would somehow help her in her pursuit to make her fingers work better.

"This is hard!" she whined. The Spirit of Light actually whined. "This is harder than walking!" she complained.

She hadn't been able to walk? Arthur frowned in contemplation. She seemed to have master walking and grabbing things just fine as far as he could tell. Had she struggled with it all when she'd first come through? But that begged the question, if she had to learn to master such simple human movement, she must have had to have time to do it in, so how long had he been unconscious?

Peeking over at the clock, he realized it was almost six in the morning. What time had he attempted to summon her? It hadn't been midnight, of that he was sure, at least when he started. How long had the entire summoning process actually taken anyway? It had only seemed to be a few minutes, but was that the reality? It could have taken longer and he just hadn't been aware.

A cry of utter delight resounded in the room, bringing Arthur out of his thoughts. He looked up to find that the spirit had managed to button the shirt up…though a few were in the wrong holes. He thought about redoing them for her, but it was oddly cute somehow, like she was just a child. Indeed she certainly looked to be at least a year or so younger than himself, and since nothing inappropriate was being shown because of her mistakes, he thought better to let her be. She was proud of what she'd done, after all. Who was he to ruin this small success for her in the Human Realm?

Those bright eyes and big smile caused the young man to smile back as well. Strange, he rarely smiled, but he just couldn't help but do it when she looked at him. Perhaps she was more than just the spirit of physical light. Maybe she was the spirit of internal light as well?

He was about to ask, perhaps make good on the questioning rules he'd already established, when the door to the room suddenly burst open. "RISE AN' SHINE, ARTIE!" Seumas burst in drunkenly, only to freeze.

Arthur had jumped when his brother had barged in…but that was an understatement. If he were honest, he had almost jumped out of his skin he'd been so startled. But now he stared at his eldest brother with wide, terrified green eyes just as Seumas stared in tired confusion between Arthur and the spirit, who hadn't reacted much to the sudden presence of another person in the room, except with a widening smile. "Your name is Artie?" she asked eagerly.

"Seumas!" the youngest Kirkland cried, not really hearing the spirit. "Wh-what the bloody hell are you doing barging in here this time of morning?!"

The Scotsman obviously hadn't gone to bed yet, and he smelled of scotch and beer. Because of this, he must have been slow in the head, believing that he was hallucinating, because he looked between the spirit and his brother again, opened his mouth to say something, only to close it and squint at his brother and the spirit extra hard, as though he could make them into something other than what he was really seeing, before his shoulders slumped. "Crivens," Seumas muttered, running his hand over his scruffled face. "T'bed wit' ya, Seumas," he scolded himself as he stumbled away.

When the Scotsman had left, Arthur could have cried in joy, but instead, just sagged in relief, all the fright leaving him. Although he had never thought he would ever think this ever, he now thanked God for having a drunken bum for a brother.

"Who was that? Why did he look similar to you? Why did his hair look like that? Can you have hair on your face too? Is your name really Artie?"

Arthur turned and stared at the inquisitive spirit somewhat at a loss as to what he should say. "What does it matter what they call me?" he asked rudely, his nerves still high as was his paranoia. "If it was, you wouldn't be allowed to call me that or any variations of it anyway," he reminded harshly. The Spirit's enthusiasm seemed to dim just a bit. "But that puts me in mind. I'd forgotten about my family. I'm going to have to make up a story and an identity for you while you're here in this world."

The spirit perked up at this. "You're going to give me a name?"

Slowly, Arthur nodded. "It appears I have no choice. I still live with my family and they can't know you're a spirit."

"What's my name?! What's my name?!" the girl cried, literally jumping up and down this time, her smile the broadest he had ever seen it.

Frowning, the Englishman thought for a long, hard moment. What should he call a spirit? He was going to have to hide her, make up a story as to why there was a girl in their house. His mother would certainly be curious as to that fact! But could he do this? Could he pull this off? The spirit did have a certain …strange glow about her, not literal anymore, but a certain exuberance that his mother would pick up on. And then there was the fact that her accent was ever so slightly off from his, and she spoke louder than he did as well.

"Amelia," he said slowly, getting a taste for it on his tongue. The spirit went still. "You'll be called Amelia Jones, a classmate of mine at University from the United States."

The Spirit of Light, Amelia, beamed.

oOoOoOo

In Siberia, Zima glowered at the spirit he had summoned in frustration. It was proving to be harder to control the creature than he'd originally thought. All throughout the wee hours of the morning Zima had been going over the rules with his spirit, making sure it knew what it could and could not do, but still it resisted him. He didn't understand why! Although he knew of the spirits' trickiness, he had thought that by all of his rules, he'd be able to make the spirit completely obey him without any resistance. That wasn't proving to be the case. This spirit seemed to have a little too much spirit.

"So, let me get this straight," the giant began again, smiling detachedly, reclining causally on the sofa like some sort of god at the feasting table. "All you want me to do is go about and…collect certain objects for you, da?"

Zima scowled at how casually his slavewas addressing him, but couldn't help but also be fascinated by it as well. This creature terrified him if he could be honest with himself, yet at the same time, it was bound to obey him. It seemed so real, so humanlike, it even resisted him, the most basic of human reactions he'd seen in his days from running the GULags. It smiled like a person, it frowned like a person, it had even picked up a speech tick just by listening to him when he'd been nervous and kept asking yes or no questions. It was truly an amazing creature, but since Zima feared it, he hated it as well as valued it.

"Essentially. That will be your main task for the time being," the old general nodded. "But as I said before, I expect you to preform anything I tell you without hesitation."

A tight smile came over the spirit's face, one that nearly sent Zima skittering away in terror, but he sat still, refusing to be intimidated by it. "Of course, Master," it said in a light, pleasant sort of way, but Zima could hear the steel beneath it. "But Master, I am confused by something. May I ask a question?"

The old wizard was furious with how flippant this creature was being with him, yet at the same time, he didn't dare to make it too angry. After all, it could probably kill him if it wanted. Zima had commanded it not to kill him, yet there were probably still loopholes he had not thought of, though he'd tried his best to think of every scenario. But spirits were tricky things. It was best not to make it too angry too often. "Speak."

"I had often heard other spirits speak of the concept of hot and cold when they come to the Human Realm," he began, though Zima didn't see the point of this narrative. "And you told me when I first arrived that this place…Russia? It is very cold here, da?" The general nodded. "Ah," the spirit smiled happily. "It is cold then! I am feeling cold."

For the first time since the spirit had arrived, Zima suddenly realized that the creature was naked, naked other than the enchanted scarf. It had sat all throughout the early hours of the morning like this, and it had probably been contemplating all of the new sensations it felt, and just now confirmed a suspicion that it was cold. It was strange. Zima couldn't remember a time when he hadn't known what common sensations felt like. Had there ever been a time?

But that was all beside the point, interesting as this line of thought was. The issue was that this creature was cold and naked. The first thing he'd have to do was heat up the room as it had gotten quiet chilly since the spirit's arrival when all light had gone out. Second, he'd have to find out how to clothe the giant. That would not be an easy task as it couldn't simply wear some of his.

Standing up, he walked over to the fireplace and lit it, throwing some logs on the fire. Next, he stalked over to the coach and grabbed one of the old throw blankets someone had given him years ago, mistakenly believing that he wanted such a gift. He studied the old thing for a moment before throwing it at the spirit. "Wrap that around yourself," he commanded.

The spirit looked at the worn cloth for a moment, rubbing it between its fingers, before complying and putting it around itself. It sat for a moment, looking contemplative, before it smiled again, truly looking joyful. "I am feeling different. Is this warmth?"

The old general snorted. "How the hell should I know? Probably," he added when some dark emotion flashed in its eyes. He didn't like that look. It made him feel cold. Very, very cold.

"Oh good!" it smiled brightly, yet strangely muted. It almost didn't seem real, yet it was too real for Zima's comfort. He didn't like the idea of this things being truly alive. It was just a tool. That was all. There was nothing else about this creature; it was just another beast of burden. "I believe I like being warm," it announced pleasantly.

"Most people do," Zima muttered, not sure how he felt about the creature. It made him nervous. Perhaps he should just have it go on its first mission. But then, he needed to clothe it first before he set it loose in society. Plus, he didn't want it to get sick…if indeed it could. It was too valuable to him to risk its health, if indeed its health really mattered. He realized he was going to have to do more research on this creature if he could.

"I'll be right back," he announced to the spirit. "Don't move."

The spirit merely smiled back at him cheerfully, innocently, which made Zima all the more uncomfortable. He went to his bedroom to try and find something that the creature could perhaps wear. He didn't really find anything that would fit its height or girth. Even though he despised the idea, he was going to have to go out and buy it clothes. He hated the idea of spending money on anyone else, but then, soon, he would be a rich man. Perhaps this once he could make an allowance and spend some to get his return. This was an investment, and one that he would be a fool to pass up. Smirking, he grabbed his wallet and keys.

When he went back into the sitting area, the spirit was exactly where he'd left it, though its head was leaned back, almost like it was asleep. Was it?

"I'm leaving," Zima announced, the spirit did not move. "Don't move from that spot. I'll return shortly."

The spirit rolled its head over to stare at its master. Zima was unnerved by the dark eyes that stared at him, but he glared back anyway. "Very well," it answered, but nothing else.

Although he didn't like its attitude, he didn't really want to upset it while he was leaving the house. Best to let it settle in before the hard work began. "All right. Stay here," he commanded again before he left.

Yes, things would be looking up for Zima soon. He just had to be patient a little while longer.

Author's Note: I'm alive! Sorry for falling off the face of the earth with this story. Between school and wedding planning, my life's been more than a little hectic. ^^" Sorry about that. I'll try and be more frequent.

Slang: I like to use different countries slang if I can, or little words in their language. So you get one Scottish term today! : Crivens- Christ defend us…it was apparently shortened into "crivens" somehow… I thought it was fun. ^^

'Nother Note: Well, hope you all enjoyed your first tastes of Ivan and Amelia. They'll be more fun later on. ;) Please leave me a review on the way out! I'd love to hear from ya! Cheers!