Kill. She would kill him.
The acrid tang of copper filled Mkali's mouth, the familiarity oddly refreshing. Her teeth, sharpened down to calcium daggers, bit into scarred gums. The spirit had seen her history. Her most personal moments, exposed to a stranger.
She spit a crimson Rorshach test onto the stone floor, looking at the patterned spittle for guidance. Within it she saw Amari strung up from a tree, entrails pouring back to the earth.
The spirit, a stranger in her own body, raged along with her–screaming at injustices long past. A power she had never felt before trembled within her.
It reached out into the room searching for something. Those who had left their mortal shells behind.
Mortal Shells? What is this?
Words not of her own mind filtered into her thoughts. Mkali did not like this. She growled and seethed at people who stood too close to her. She would not be taken over, she would not give up control! She was her own person. A new entity trying to shackle her relit the smoldering rage bubbling beneath the surface.
Leave me Spirit. Your power is not worth this.
But there was no response. Only silence. This was acceptable.
The power burst forth anew, a dozen tendrils of energy sliding through the air. There were dozens of translucent ropes wiggling around her like a squid breaking free of her flesh. It found what it was looking for, melting into one of the fallen bodies around her. The corpse became a doorway into a world beyond. Like a practiced wrangler it ensnared the retreating souls and wrenched them back, tearing them through their former bodies.
In moments dozens and dozens of these spirits–ghastly, grey, silhouettes that were only vaguely human–filled the room. Their faces were a constant shifting menagerie of emotions. Screams, tears, jester's grins, bulging eyes and veins shifted across their visage.
Something in Mkali sputtered out. An engine out of gas and the ropes connecting her to these spirits snapped.
The results were immediate. The spirits lunged at those nearby, Mkali included, attempting to infest them. To devour them.
In Mkali's new sight she saw a flash of light and felt the wave of power.
The spirits were wiped away. Gray matter turned to floating azure motes that drifted slowly to the ground.
"Foolish girl. Control yourself." One of the robed figures chastised her, as though she were a child again. His voice was like worms wriggling in her ears and even when it was gone she could feel the echoes of it squirming.
She growled and bared her teeth at him, daring him to say more..
Come down here stranger, see how well your power holds. I will taste your throat and clutch your beating heart in my hands, Mkali raged inwardly at him. Though she knew, as much as she hated to admit it, that she was outmatched here. She was a snake rattling at a predator beyond her reach.
The man's contempt was a weight upon her, and though she could not see his face, she knew he was smiling.
Her rage redoubled.
The leader of the fools continued on as though several dozen spirits hadn't just gone rogue.
"These tokens will have many uses to you, from purchasing advantages, to lodgings. However, the most important use comes at the end of each day. Following dinner, all of you shall gather here and deposit a single token to the Synchronizer." The old fool explained, gesturing towards the black crystal and adjoining mirror. "Those who fail to produce a token by midnight will be… disqualified."
He looked significantly at the bodies strewn across the hall.
"This is a less desirable outcome, but we wish to ensure that those who remain in this competition are not just skilled practitioners, but are resourceful. Adaptable. There is more to being a mage than just magical talent."
Mkali ignored him. She did not need his rules. She did not even need to win. Her goal was simple. To bestow upon Amari a fate worse than death. An ending was more than he deserved and she smiled as an idea began to form.
She was pulled from her revelry by shouting at the north of the room. A man who looked like a retired beggar, begged of the crowd a question. Who killed his friend?
Mkali saw the frail man wipe the blood off his dagger, but said nothing. This was not her quarrel.