The Ball Of Need

The Week of Trust Festival started with the Naked Sunday.

Tourists loved it. Locals preferred to stay in.

Guards went around fully armed, but, ahem, naked underneath the steel, catching the frolicking teens and ushering them back home.

Needless to say, there was essentially nobody out in the streets on Naked Sundays, except those wackos who wanted to test their trust in the world.

So there wasn’t any reason for Thornema Sway of the String to be out that day. Especially taking into consideration her job. People did not find it encouraging to come to a children’s health professional after getting an eyeful of their nether regions.

“Addie, what if someone sees me?” She muttered to her bestie who dragged her out to the Market Square.

“The fog is here to ensure that you’re not caught right out unclothed. Or caught clothed and put to jail, you know. They make the fog to give people time to choose their reaction.”

Despite the early hour and all the mentioned facts about the Naked Sunday, the Market Square was all but bustling. And, boy, that was too many skinny rears to behold at once.

“Wait, they MAKE it?!”

Thornema’s friend eyed her with a half-lidded glance of disbelief. “Are you even Adenfian, Thor?”

Thornema jumped after suddenly feeling someone’s skin on her fingers, as they went through the peach-colored blur of yet untanned by summer shapes.

“Mom used to say that’s the Soul Fog. So the souls of the dead could walk freely together with us and celebrate. Anyway, can we stop, Addie?”

But her friend giggled in response, curving around someone standing in the queue.

“We’ve got a goal! We can ogle later.” She dragged Thornema by the hand to their right and there was an entrance to the tent that said “Soulful Retreat”. “You’re a spiritualist.” Addie said, “Have you ever encountered spirits during the W-o-T?”

Thornema had to think, but her friend rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t lecture me on the types of spirits, Thor, you know I mean actual humanoid-deceased ones, just strolling down the street.”

Then it was easy. “No,” Thornema was sure no spirit walked unsettled these days.

Addie then opened the curtain door of the tent: “Well then, get ready for the first one.”

A chill ran down the spiritualist’s spine and as they entered inside, leaving the blissful fog behind, she felt the urge to cover up. She knew it was rude so she controlled her hands.

“Oo-oh, a customer!” a crooked-nosed old lady all but floated from the darkness surrounding the five or so candles on a table. She had bushy lashes, long grey hair with a headband adorned with beads and tiny bells, and she wasn’t naked, thank Goddess. “You may choose some dresses, my dears,” the ghost lady waved her hand to the left of them, and there indeed was a rack with nice looking sundresses.

“Fancy,” Addie said in a whisper, “Girls told me they had been offered bathrobes last year.”

Thornema wasn’t sure it was safe to try on the dresses before, but now she felt encouraged: “What happened to the girls after?”

Addie smiled with glee: “Miracles! Good ones.”

“Do not worry, m’dears,” croaked the old ghost, “I am benevolent. Luttar herself allowed me to stay.”

“How nice of Her! Our Goddess is indeed the Merciful.”

“That she is.” The ghost lady stared at Addie for some time and then said, “Dear, could you wait outside? I fear I cannot do both of you simultaneously.”

Thornema couldn’t resist grabbing Addie’s wrist, “No, please, can she stay?”

“Yeah, you can skip doing me, if it’s hard to handle the two of us.”

“I’m sorry, dear, but you’re going to be in the way. You see, my parlour is… for relaxation. For finding peace and balance. This one,” she waved at Thornema, “is quite a tangle.”

Addie took Thornema’s hand in both her hands and looked her in the eyes. “Come on. Week of Trust, remember? Choose the sundress. I’ll be right outside. She’s alright.”

The spiritualist braced herself. It was her primary reason to work with kids. She did not want to tolerate the full-blown entities. Or pre-entities, for that matter, as spawned by adults.

Addie left, and Thornema had to force herself to let go.

“So, what sundress do you like best, dear?” The ghost did not approach her, just motioned to the rack. Thornema looked at the rack again and decided to go with the blue.

“Favourite color? My name is Galda Stomp of the Yellows, by the way. You can look me up at a library,” she generously added. “Now… what tea do you think goes best with this dress?”

“Camomile and mint.”

“Good choice!” And the ghost lady slowly flew to the corner where she opened an invisible curtain. “Come on in.”

Thornema wondered if it was expensive, this experience. She donned the dress and went to follow the ghost.

Her eyes were rather shocked: so much light after a smoky day and dark insides of the tent attacked them.

She couldn’t see the ghost lady anywhere. There seemed to be nobody around. Only bushes with roses, soft rays of sunshine catching on butterflies’ wings.

Thornema followed the paved walk to a gazebo of white wood. Such a perfect spot to enjoy the last days of spring! There were books - she took one but the words in it blurred. That’s how she knew she was in the spiritual plane.

Was it her inside?

No, unlikely. She’s been to her insides, she knew the feeling. This was…

“This is where you’d want to be.” The ghost lady appeared in the form of a white fluffy cat and jumped onto Thornema’s lap. Would it be weird to stroke her? Galda began to purr.

“What am I supposed to do here?”

The cat adjusted to be more comfortable.

“My parlor offers relaxation. I gave you a dress and some tea.” Thornema finally noticed the nice porcelain teapot with blue roses drawn on its sides. She stretched to pour some into the wide rim cup, careful not to disturb the cat.

“I am relaxed,” the girl said in a small voice.

The cat just continued to purr. They sat in silence while Thornema watched the trees come slightly alive with the breeze and sipped on her tea.

At first she kept being anxious about all the gig. A lot of nasty ideas stifled her but then crashed upon the cat’s purr. It was lulling and peaceful. Nobody was demanding anything of her.

So unlike everything in her life. The kids with their struggles, their parents - just adding the cherries on top of the cakes for her…

There was a boy she could not untangle for a while now. He was perseverance itself. It was good for an adult under duress, but not for a five-year-old. To be this… unimpressed. A flawlessly hushed child. Thornema worked with him for two years already and was struggling. Sometimes she thought that it could be good to let go of him and tell his parents that there was nothing wrong with their son.

Except there was. He was flagged by the Commission as a late-manifestation case already. He would get his magical powers at a later age, and if Thornema failed to untangle him by then, he wouldn’t be able to reach any good level in magic.

If only she could just change his parents instead! Just give them instructions to their kid and be done. But she couldn’t get even the basic information from them. What caused him to be like that? Like a forever clenched fist, one day he would burst out into someone’s face and it wouldn’t even be his parents.

“Ask,” said the cat.

“What do you mean, ask his parents?” Thornema let out a heavy sigh.

“No. Ask me.”

“What do you know? You’re a healer, not a spiritualist.”

“True. But I am a spirit myself. It is my service - to be of help.”

Thornema pondered. Also, probably overthought.

“How do I drag out the soul’s defense in a child, without mental manipulations? Because, as you may know, they’re banned.”

“You don’t.”

Useful.

“You feed it.”

“What?”

But the cat decided not to reply.

“I am making myself as safe as possible. I try to be as fun as possible. I give him closure, give him space, give him entertainment and things to think about. Plus, I am not allowed to feed my patients.”

“You need to let go, Thornema. You are difficult.”

“Yes. I am just taking my job too serious. I’ve been told.”

“No, child. You are taking yourself too lightly. Every defense needs alliance to be lowered. Do you have it?”

Thornema worked alone. Everyone in her profession worked alone.

“I don’t think I do.”

It was the cat’s turn to sigh. Thornema once again picked up the book and intently looked at pages until they began to show her words. She was pleased to find out that it was a replication of the book she was currently reading - a romantic story about a wealthy high-level fire mage falling for a tenth-level priestess and trying his best to nurture her with care and attention. Thornema hoped that by the end of the book the priestess would certify for the next level, or something.

Suddenly the cat dashed away from her lap, scratching her through the dress, and Thornema dropped the book. A huge shadow loomed over the gazebo, and she wanted to cower but was too curious to do it, so she looked up.

The creature consisted of tentacles, eyes, ribbons, laces, limbs, pieces of skin and potato peels… it was a huge ball of stuff. One couldn’t say if it looked at you at the moment or was blind. It did not have legs - or, it had, but they did not quite work as they should have. Why did it stop here? What was that?

“Th-f-f-...”

It attempted to speak! Thornema was frozen with fear.

“Feed it.” She heard the whisper behind her, and nearly jumped out of her skin, and ran for her life. The creature slowly followed - awkwardly, it turned and loomed forth, catching the girl on her clothes. The spiritualist squeezed her eyes shut and charged away so hard she tore the dress, leaving it behind, scrambling for the curtain back to the tent.

Thankfully, the curtain worked and Thornema just sprinted through it and out of the tent. She got caught by Addie, who had a cheerful face on.

“What, why are you running?” Her friend held her by her shoulders, her smile fading, “What’s wrong?”

“If she charges anything, I’ll pay you back,” Thornema’s lip was trembling.

“O-okay.”

“I’m going to go home now. Sorry.”

Addie probably asked her to stay, to explain herself, but Thornema rushed as fast as she could, hugging herself, shaking.

Relaxation, huh?! What was this creature?! Seemed like Galda herself got scared by it. But she told her to feed it. What did it even eat?

If it was a pre-being, it was spiritual. It probably wanted some spiritual food. What kind of food? Thornema remembered the torn limbs with a shudder. Looked like a pile of garbage and mayhem.

Upon coming home she ignored her mother’s request to do the dishes and strode to her bedroom, locking the door.

First, she needed to pray. What if the ball of stuff came at night to feed on her? She must have an altar full of prayed-up water.

Prayers helped her to regulate herself and breathe properly.

She proceeded with ignoring her mother’s request to get her a cake for dinner, but did the dishes. After all, maintenance was important.

But then she did not stay to listen to the latest gossip, hanging out with her aunt and mom. Thornema excused herself and went to her bedroom, found her book and settled to read.

Then it hit her.

The talisman - the talisman on the wall, the one which was enchanted to catch pre-beings… it did not catch this one. In fact, it caught nothing. Because it wasn’t hers. She was fine. She wasn’t difficult, as Galda had said. She had a difficult job.

The next day she was having after-school sessions. They went through routines - songs, dances, coloring and wand-drawing, some light casting. She kept looking at the class’ talisman of Spindling Adversarial Pre-Beings. It was calm as ever.

Oh how she wished she could change the talisman’s enchantment! It wasn’t adversarial!

She tried to call for it, in-between the classes. Funny thing was, she didn’t know the name of the Ball. So she called it the Ball of Need.

Come, she called. I need you now. You are important.

The last class was where the stiff-upper-lip boy was. She looked at him and suddenly saw it all - oh, how well his defense was built, how early constructed and thus nearly invisible - so thin, so structured!

I cannot break that, Thornema thought, calling for the Ball. But you can wipe it.

She decided to break the routine and do a five-minute night play - she put all the kids on the floor, turned off the lights, lit up the class altar and took a huge blanket.

“The night is coming. Have a good nap, my darlings. The breeze is washing over you, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…” She began to wave the blanket over the kids.

The darkness near the altar solidified and it came, finally. Thornema wasn’t sure it would, but it crawled out and slowly floated toward her. She nodded at the boy. Look at him. Can you wipe it? Slowly, do not take it all at once. He would need some to compensate. Yes, like that. Ew, it looks like slime on you. But it’s ok.

I will feed you.

Stay with me.

They went home together. Thornema and an invisible ball of stuff, awkwardly tagging alongside. She smiled, stealing looks at it. It was really really shy and fumbling but it did such a great job. She wished she had a chance to thank Galda - for showing this ball to her. How really unprofessional it was of her to ignore it for so long! It crusted over with remnants of her untangling. She just threw the dirt at it, and it crystallized into this ball.

They were going to the Dark Prophets Library. It was Thornema’s most favorite place to read - the place had a summer gallery with tall windows where one could sit with tea and a book. The tea, of course, was extremely expensive. But Thornema was glad she could share it with a friend.

They sat by the window, the Ball of Need unsure where to put itself at first.

“Just sit opposite of me. Nobody would take your place, I will make sure of it.”

And then funny thing happened: one eye suddenly began to look directly at her. It was a cute and smiling blue eye. Thornema winked at it and opened the massive tome of Personalities of Adenf at G.

“Galda Stomp of the Yellows, murdered…” She read, “For her fraudulent grifts she was punished by Luttar to dwell Adenf during the Week of Trust until she does the compensating amount of good things.”

Thornema snickered and looked at her companion. One good thing to Galda’s list then.

“Let’s feed you,” and she opened the romance book, feeling the Ball wrap around her in a tender embrace. Using its arms and a tentacle, functionally.

Probably, good feelings were its most preferred food. So the cut-downs of children’s fears, insecurities and lack of attention were turned into useful parts on the Ball of Need through imaginary love, desire and care.

And, camomile and mint tea, of course.

Published 27 Jun 2025