Tempest
Tempest pressed her lips together. She was about to argue, but then the shadows began seeping into her mind.
"There have always been spirits, Rydia", she told her wearily. "We've tried this before and have been persecuted by those we worked to save. I won't give my help to people who don't want it."
Besides, Tempest wanted to remain as far removed from spirits as was possible. She'd spent too many trying to forget, to escape.
"I have no more to give to this. What will come will come, whether or not we pretend that our resisting will make a jot of difference." She frowned, and her brown eyes darkend. "Just give it up," her voice had dropped to a whisper, "if you're the first to go down it will hurt that bit more."
