His laugh trailed off but the smile stayed. He wasn't sure why but that left him quite happy with himself. It was strange, especially when he considered the ghosts. So far, he only met the ones he found in that library he and Whirlwind passed through. Invisible and melancholic, their whispers had almost unmanned him so thoroughly that he had almost fled from the room. Had the White Stag not appeared and the voices not ceased... No, this wasn't the time to be thinking about that thing. Even if it led him from the frozen city where those black shapes, shadows of memories of an age and a people long since past, wandered forever in their last moments. And now these ghosts, white as clean smoke trapped in an endless dance to ensure unspeakable horrors remained imprisoned. What were those things, really, and who were those ghosts once upon a time to sing and dance to stave off the darkness? Where did they go when they disappeared one by one, as more of the magic of the room was disrupted and more of the things they held in place died and winked out of existence? He had seen them disappear; he had seen them move freely of the endless cycle they had been ensnared to.