Luka didn’t consider himself a hot-headed person, generally.

It was true that he took risks sometimes. Risks that would seem reckless to anyone else. But it wasn’t that he was overwhelmed by emotion, or that he wasn’t aware of the possibility of failure. It was just that he felt like it didn’t have to happen.

So why not do something about it?

That wasn’t what he’d been thinking when he went back into the moon paths.

Resurrection tended to affect his mind for a while. His logic and higher reasoning would fade to the background, slow to rouse from sleep. In their place, the last desires and regrets he had before dying would be amplified, until they seemed like the only thing worth thinking about, or acting on at all.

So when he woke up again in Acacius’ room, he hadn’t wondered what Acacius’ intentions were or why his body was still intact. He’d just gotten up and thought, I have to find Dreyminn, and gone to do just that.

Which hadn’t gone well, though no one would know that just by looking at him. All his wounds from that time had long healed. Now, his only wounds were the calluses on his hands from swinging his sword in his teacher’s backyard all day.

Luka was good with the sword, enough that he could surpass all his peers in pure skill alone. After everything that happened in his first year at the Academy, he’d grown confident he could strike at others at a higher level.

Cyprian Duval’s sword had dashed that confidence to pieces.

It was absurd that such an ordinary sword, in the Duke’s hands, could cleave the skies in two. He couldn’t stop replaying its trajectory in his head — how simple and slow it had seemed despite its impossible speed, how profound its subtle movements had been. It was no wonder the Duke considered him no better than a bug.

How long would it take for Luka to become that strong?

“Luka.”

With the flick of a lazy finger, his sword was forced to a stop.

Luka broke out of his trance. He shook the sweat out of his eyes and looked down at the small, pale-skinned woman standing before him. The sun, slipping down beyond the horizon, breathed the last of its bright light on her long white hair.

His teacher, Sacha Reviance.

“When I told you to practice until you finished reflecting properly, I didn’t mean for you to go this long,” she remarked, pushing messy strands of hair out of her eyes with a yawn.

He couldn’t think of a non-recriminating answer, so he remained silent.

“You’re decades too early to catch up to Cyprian. Try earning a few more titles before challenging him again,” Sacha said, seating herself in a lazy sprawl on the garden bench.

“If we hadn’t been battling in the context of an exclusive frame, I would’ve done better,” Luka said.

Sacha narrowed her eyes. “Weren’t you supposed to be reflecting, Luka? But all you’ve managed to do is swing your sword around.”

“I’ve reflected,” Luka said quickly.

“Is that so?” She smirked. “Then let me hear what you’ve learned.”

Despite Sacha’s expression, it couldn’t hide her fatigue, annoyance, or worry from his eyes.

Luka didn’t want her to feel that way. He repeated what she’d told him before.

“If I want to investigate something that seems dangerous, I’ll take a friend.”

“And?”

“I’ll inform an emergency contact who can act in case something happens to us.”

“And?”

“And… I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Sacha gazed at him long enough that Luka wondered if he should regurgitate word-for-word the admonishing she’d given him when she retrieved him from the aftermath.

“You better mean it this time, Luka,” she said finally. “One day, all that trouble will catch up to you. Be careful from now on.”

A melancholy sadness was creeping into her now. Luka didn’t know how to fix it. He always meant to stay out of trouble, but the world never seemed to match up to his intentions. His assurances felt weak even to his own ears. He stood before her silently, struggling to think of something to say.

Sacha didn’t linger on it. With a wave of her hand, Luka’s sword returned itself to its sheathe. She beckoned him to sit on the bench next to her.

“Enough of that. Let’s discuss the entities who answered your call this time.”

Luka obediently sat down. At her expectant look, he organized his thoughts and spoke.

“The first entity was, from what I understood, an amalgamation of forgotten grudges that had accumulated within the moon path realm. Although it responded to my call, it immediately became hostile to me because I was from the reverse side of the realm — in this case, from Kosmonymia. I am unsure if the entity is a Fantasm Spirit that was brought into Kosmonymia, or if it naturally emerged when the moon path realm was recreated here.”

“A temporary aggregate form is usually unstable, so we shouldn’t have to worry about it becoming active. I’m more concerned about the second entity you mentioned.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

“The second entity, who has accepted the alias of Ghost…”

He trailed off.

“What was your first impression of them?” Sacha prompted.

“They were mindful of my limits and cautious of disrupting my consciousness. I could tell from the strain on me that they were a powerful spirit. But my reaction was… understated. I only thought, ‘Oh, something is finally here,’ and didn’t take any other precautions. Because… I just felt like it was fine.”

“What did they sound like?”

“Like… my own thoughts, I suppose.”

“I see. And what of their abilities?”

“When I channeled them, I was able to hear and understand the voices of the denizens of the moon path realm. The denizens also immediately ceased their hostility towards me, perceiving me as one of them. Cyprian Duval was also confused when he first saw me, asking me who I was instead of attacking immediately, though he quickly concluded that he was under a memetic effect.”

He thought back to the moment he’d first opened his eyes.

“Ghost also granted me a special vision where I could see Cyprian’s… sins, for lack of better description. He was the only person I saw with Ghost, though, so I can’t draw conclusions.”

“And the manifestation Ghost used was your reflection?”

“Yes, a slightly darker reflection.”

Sacha heaved another deep sigh and scratched her neck.

“My precious little student, you have unleashed quite a dangerous thing into the world this time.”

Luka lowered his eyes. This was why Sacha had always told him to never conduct an open-ended summoning; you never knew what, exactly, would answer.

But she’d also said that rules were meant to be broken, that he should form his own judgment, and that it was never wrong to preserve your own life.

Luka, life is infinitely precious. No matter how trivial you might find it, do not embrace your death. Promise me that you will always struggle until your last breath.

So what did she want from him, in the end?

“At the very least, Ghost seems human,” he said. “So we won’t need to worry about differences in modes of communication and understanding.”

Sacha chuckled sardonically.

“Just because a spirit is humanoid or formerly human doesn’t mean they’ll be easier to deal with,” she said. “You should know, Luka, that the human heart is the most treacherous and unpredictable of all.”

“Ghost wasn’t malicious.”

“You shouldn’t trust your eyes so much. They’re what led you to the current situation in the first place.”

Luka suddenly became very aware of a possible future where his teacher would make this exact same joke every time he tried to offer an opinion. Hopefully that would never come to pass.

“Ghost answered my call for help when they didn’t have to, and they listened to all of my requests,” he said. “I think they are still observing this world. Wouldn’t it be best to make them an ally, not an enemy?”

“Relax. I may not be enthusiastic about them, but I’m not so hasty that I’d aim at my student’s life-saving helper for just that.”

That was good. No matter what Ghost’s nature was, they had chosen to help him first. He didn’t want to see Sacha decide their potential threat was too dangerous to keep around.

“Still, I think we should set some rules of engagement,” Sacha added.

Perhaps he’d spoken too soon. “Do you want to meet Ghost?”

“No. Having someone like me around might just scare them off,” Sacha refused, carelessly waving a hand. “I’ll give you something for protection later. But for now… Let’s do it like this. Don’t summon Ghost in the middle of danger; make your preparations beforehand. Don’t summon Ghost for arbitrary reasons; only call them for a good cause. And last, set expectations for the price of their help early. You were lucky that they only wanted a conversation and a simple favor from you this time, but you don’t want to accidentally take on a debt you can’t pay.”

“I understand.” Luka hesitated a moment before adding, “They seemed interested in prophecy. And the Duvals.”

Sacha’s expression became serious.

“The Duvals, is it?”

“Yes. Specifically, the youngest generation.”

“Hmm. Don’t you have a Duval for a classmate?”

Their relationship went back further than just that, but for reasons Luka still didn’t understand, this was something he had never managed to tell Sacha.

Since he’d never told her, he would have to clean things up himself.

“His name is Acacius Duval.”

Sacha nodded. “Keep an eye on him and report any suspicious activity to me.”

Luka was planning on doing that anyways, but…

“Will you read my messages on time?”

“Sending them is better than doing nothing at all. A record will always be useful.”

Luka nodded. He glanced at his teacher.

“Will you be leaving again soon?”

“Yeah. Sorry, kid. Still, as long as you stay in the Academy, you should be relatively safe.” She reached out with a hand and roughly ruffled his hair. “And as long as you don’t get up to any of your little adventures again.”

Luka bore with the movement as long as he could tolerate before ducking away. “I’ll be more careful.”

“Swear on the Scribe?”

He wasn’t that sure he could do as he said.

Sacha cackled.

“Well, as long as you don’t get killed… Oh, wait, you’ve already done that, too.”

If she was back to joking, then things were okay. Luka should play along. He grimaced and drew his voice out. “Teacher…”

“What? Am I wrong?”

“I said I’m sorry. Please let it go.”

“Sure, when you’re strong enough to win a spar against me.”

“At that point, would there be anyone who could kill me?”

“Exactly. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about you anymore.” She pointed at her head. “You see my hair, Luka? It’s going white because of you.”

Luka made a flat expression, the way he knew would lift her mood, and Sacha laughed.

Thus, despite everything — his recent mistakes, Sacha’s troubles, and the stirring undercurrents of Iyiria — it was another peaceful day in Sacha’s household.

Luka would have to treasure it while he could.

Chapter 7 Chapter 9