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Description
Shad jammed the button down.  Gears began to grind and turn as a low hum filled his ears.  He stepped over to the entrance of the electro-magnetic chamber, his latest invention.  He paused at the threshold.  What if the spirit chamber didn't work?  He swallowed back a stab of guilt.  It has to work… it has to, he thought.

Little Ella's words rang so clear in his ears that it could have been the day nine years ago… the day of the attack.  Waves of grief washed over him as he remembered her plaintive, hiccuping sobs.  The bitter memories drove a spasm of pain through his heart.  Daddy, but I didn't.  I didn't.  Honest!

Perhaps though, the recollection of his furious retort haunted him even more.  Don't lie to me.  I'm angry enough!  I've told you not to touch them and now you've lost them!

Shad felt a tear well at the corner of his eye.  He reached into his shoulder pouch and pulled out his goggles.  His thumb brushed against the special opaque lenses, another of his many inventions.  "Damn," he muttered as he choked back a sob.  He felt a thin salt trail slip down his cheek as he pulled the goggles around his head and pushed them up onto his forehead.

Years of endless nightmares hovered at the edge of his consciousness.  Every night since her death, his dreams brought her beleaguered cries.  Sorry, Daddy.  I can't find them.  Please, don't be mad.  I can't find them.  I'll keep looking, Daddy.  Promise!

Always at the end of his sweat-induced, terror-filled sleep, he heard his child's screams and the deadly strike of the wyrbeast.

Shad knew many of his colleagues thought his obsession between his dreams and the ethereal world a symptom of growing psychosis.  However, in his own mind there was no doubt, his dreams did indeed bridge into the spirit world.  He failed to rescue his daughter the day their village was attacked, but he would not fail her now.  He knew he had to release her spirit from reliving the endless torment of the wyrbeast's assault.

His stomach wrenched at the thought of the foul creatures — fire-breathing, lethal, and nearly undetectable.  With abilities not unlike cuttlefish, the monsters blended into the horizon, hidden among banks and pillars of clouds or the blue of the sky itself.

Shad knew the Aisle of Verthone considered him their savior, Shad the Inventor, Shad the Great.  Two years now, marked the beasts' extinction.  His design for the steam-powered Wing Balloons gave the army the ability to effectively pursue and battle the menace of the skies.  The gear-driven mangonel, armed with liquid fire, granted an advantage when hunting the creatures down.  The special lenses in the goggles allowed the Verthone soldiers to plainly see the nearly invisible beasts.  These technological advances were all his inventions.  He had achieved so much for his country, yet he had failed his own child.

Gripped with hesitancy, he stood on the threshold.  Recriminations streamed over him like a violent flood.  Why had he insisted on being aboard Strongwing's maiden voyage?  Had pride driven him to demand the right to witness his creations triumphing over their nation's nemesis?  He should have been protecting his family down in the village shelter.

With timorous step, he found the middle of the room.  From his bag he dumped a scattering of bone, some his daughter's, some from the beast that had killed her.  He hoped within the fragile, bleached white relics the spirit essence remained.

Gears continued to whir as the magnetic field strengthened.  The hairs on Shad's arm stood erect as a tingling static danced in the air.  A low buzz filled the chamber as misted vapor took shape in front of him.  The ethereal haze churned and swirled until it formed into a vaporous body and took on features of a face, his darling Ella.

Sorry, Daddy.  I can't find them.  Please, don't be mad.  I can't find them.  But, I'll keep looking.  Promise!

The tears flowed freely now, coursing down Shad's face.  "Oh Honey, Daddy is the one that is sorry.  You didn't lose Daddy's goggles.  I misplaced them, left them in my coat pocket.  You don't need to look for them anymore, Sweetie."

I don't have to look for them anymore?

"No, Baby."  He choked back a sob.  In the confusion that day of the attack, his sweet child had slipped out of the shelter to look for his goggles.  That knowledge blanketed him with grief and shame.  He was to blame, the fault his own.  Tremulous lips whispered, "They're right here.  See!"  His trembling finger pointed to the specs perched atop his forehead.

You found them!  A twinkle of laughter filled her eyes.

Shad couldn't help but mirror the bright smile that lit Ella's face.

That blissful moment lasted but a second, for her cheery smile evaporated, supplanted by a horrified grimace.  It's coming, Daddy.  The wyrbeast is coming.  Terror shone in her tormented gaze.  It's going to get me!

His arms tenderly reached out and engulfed the apparition.  "No, sweet baby!  You go to the light.  You don't have to stay and look for my goggles anymore.  Go to the light, you'll be safe there."

A timorous smile hinted at the corner of Shad's mouth.  He would have swore he felt within the misted spirit, a physical sense of warmth and flesh, little Ella wrapped in his protective arms.

I love you, Daddy.

"I love you too.  Now, go to the light and be safe."  Shad gently held his daughter out at arm's length, drinking in her smile, her cherub face, her twinkling blue eyes—the sight forever etched in his memory.  He snatched Ella back into his arms for one last ferocious hug. "Good-by, Baby!"

He clung to the last of her presence as it shimmered and faded from his loving embrace, dissolving back into mist beneath his touch — slowly dissipating.  At last, she was safe.

Description
Shad jammed the button down.  Gears began to grind and turn as a low hum filled his ears.  He stepped over to the entrance of the electro-magnetic chamber, his latest invention.  He paused at the threshold.  What if the spirit chamber didn't work?  He swallowed back a stab of guilt.  It has to work… it has to, he thought.

Little Ella's words rang so clear in his ears that it could have been the day nine years ago… the day of the attack.  Waves of grief washed over him as he remembered her plaintive, hiccuping sobs.  The bitter memories drove a spasm of pain through his heart.  Daddy, but I didn't.  I didn't.  Honest!

Perhaps though, the recollection of his furious retort haunted him even more.  Don't lie to me.  I'm angry enough!  I've told you not to touch them and now you've lost them!

Shad felt a tear well at the corner of his eye.  He reached into his shoulder pouch and pulled out his goggles.  His thumb brushed against the special opaque lenses, another of his many inventions.  "Damn," he muttered as he choked back a sob.  He felt a thin salt trail slip down his cheek as he pulled the goggles around his head and pushed them up onto his forehead.

Years of endless nightmares hovered at the edge of his consciousness.  Every night since her death, his dreams brought her beleaguered cries.  Sorry, Daddy.  I can't find them.  Please, don't be mad.  I can't find them.  I'll keep looking, Daddy.  Promise!

Always at the end of his sweat-induced, terror-filled sleep, he heard his child's screams and the deadly strike of the wyrbeast.

Shad knew many of his colleagues thought his obsession between his dreams and the ethereal world a symptom of growing psychosis.  However, in his own mind there was no doubt, his dreams did indeed bridge into the spirit world.  He failed to rescue his daughter the day their village was attacked, but he would not fail her now.  He knew he had to release her spirit from reliving the endless torment of the wyrbeast's assault.

His stomach wrenched at the thought of the foul creatures — fire-breathing, lethal, and nearly undetectable.  With abilities not unlike cuttlefish, the monsters blended into the horizon, hidden among banks and pillars of clouds or the blue of the sky itself.

Shad knew the Aisle of Verthone considered him their savior, Shad the Inventor, Shad the Great.  Two years now, marked the beasts' extinction.  His design for the steam-powered Wing Balloons gave the army the ability to effectively pursue and battle the menace of the skies.  The gear-driven mangonel, armed with liquid fire, granted an advantage when hunting the creatures down.  The special lenses in the goggles allowed the Verthone soldiers to plainly see the nearly invisible beasts.  These technological advances were all his inventions.  He had achieved so much for his country, yet he had failed his own child.

Gripped with hesitancy, he stood on the threshold.  Recriminations streamed over him like a violent flood.  Why had he insisted on being aboard Strongwing's maiden voyage?  Had pride driven him to demand the right to witness his creations triumphing over their nation's nemesis?  He should have been protecting his family down in the village shelter.

With timorous step, he found the middle of the room.  From his bag he dumped a scattering of bone, some his daughter's, some from the beast that had killed her.  He hoped within the fragile, bleached white relics the spirit essence remained.

Gears continued to whir as the magnetic field strengthened.  The hairs on Shad's arm stood erect as a tingling static danced in the air.  A low buzz filled the chamber as misted vapor took shape in front of him.  The ethereal haze churned and swirled until it formed into a vaporous body and took on features of a face, his darling Ella.

Sorry, Daddy.  I can't find them.  Please, don't be mad.  I can't find them.  But, I'll keep looking.  Promise!

The tears flowed freely now, coursing down Shad's face.  "Oh Honey, Daddy is the one that is sorry.  You didn't lose Daddy's goggles.  I misplaced them, left them in my coat pocket.  You don't need to look for them anymore, Sweetie."

I don't have to look for them anymore?

"No, Baby."  He choked back a sob.  In the confusion that day of the attack, his sweet child had slipped out of the shelter to look for his goggles.  That knowledge blanketed him with grief and shame.  He was to blame, the fault his own.  Tremulous lips whispered, "They're right here.  See!"  His trembling finger pointed to the specs perched atop his forehead.

You found them!  A twinkle of laughter filled her eyes.

Shad couldn't help but mirror the bright smile that lit Ella's face.

That blissful moment lasted but a second, for her cheery smile evaporated, supplanted by a horrified grimace.  It's coming, Daddy.  The wyrbeast is coming.  Terror shone in her tormented gaze.  It's going to get me!

His arms tenderly reached out and engulfed the apparition.  "No, sweet baby!  You go to the light.  You don't have to stay and look for my goggles anymore.  Go to the light, you'll be safe there."

A timorous smile hinted at the corner of Shad's mouth.  He would have swore he felt within the misted spirit, a physical sense of warmth and flesh, little Ella wrapped in his protective arms.

I love you, Daddy.

"I love you too.  Now, go to the light and be safe."  Shad gently held his daughter out at arm's length, drinking in her smile, her cherub face, her twinkling blue eyes—the sight forever etched in his memory.  He snatched Ella back into his arms for one last ferocious hug. "Good-by, Baby!"

He clung to the last of her presence as it shimmered and faded from his loving embrace, dissolving back into mist beneath his touch — slowly dissipating.  At last, she was safe.