The clearing was quiet again.

  Ash drifted slowly through the air where the ritual circle had colpsed. The ground still held faint scars where the bck symbols had burned themselves into the soil, though the unnatural darkness had faded.

  Ruby sat back on her heels, breathing slowly.

  Across from her stood the tall, thin figure of Arkhavel.

  The ancient sorcerer flexed his fingers slowly, studying them as if they belonged to someone else.

  His hand looked solid.

  Almost.

  When he moved it too quickly, the edges blurred faintly, like smoke caught in a breeze.

  “…hmm.”

  Ruby watched him carefully.

  “So… are you alive now?”

  Arkhavel tilted his head slightly. His long dark beard followed suit. Unlike normal hair it followed perfectly. Gravity seemed not to matter to ghosts.

  “Alive is… an optimistic description.”

  He turned his palm over and studied the faint shimmer along his skin.

  “My body is not truly flesh.”

  Ruby blinked.

  “Oh.”

  The specter stepped away from her.

  Immediately his form flickered.

  The air around him rippled.

  He stopped and stepped closer again.

  The distortion vanished.

  Arkhavel frowned.

  “…curious.”

  Ruby tilted her head.

  “What?”

  The ancient necromancer stepped away again.

  His body began to blur once more, like mist thinning in sunlight.

  He stepped back beside her.

  Solid again.

  He nodded slowly.

  “Yes.”

  Ruby crossed her arms.

  “Yes what?”

  “I appear to be… tethered.”

  “To what?”

  Arkhavel looked down at her.

  “To you.”

  Ruby blinked.

  “…oh.”

  The specter sighed quietly.

  “Yes.”

  He gnced at the ruined ritual circle.

  “I suspect this is a side effect of our poorly negotiated contract.”

  Ruby scratched the back of her head.

  “Sorry.”

  Arkhavel folded his arms.

  “It happens.”

  Then he studied her again.

  “There is still something I do wish to know.”

  Ruby shifted slightly.

  “What?”

  “You said you wished to bring your family back.”

  Ruby nodded.

  “Yes.”

  Arkhavel continued calmly.

  “How did your parents die?”

  Ruby blinked.

  “…what?”

  “Your parents.”

  Ruby stared at him.

  “They didn’t.”

  The specter frowned slightly.

  “…pardon?”

  “My parents are alive.”

  Silence settled over the clearing.

  Arkhavel looked at her.

  Then slowly looked around the forest.

  Then back at her again.

  “You performed a necromantic summoning ritual.”

  “Yes.”

  “You offered blood sacrifice.”

  “Yes.”

  “You bound yourself to an ancient death mage.”

  “…yes.”

  Arkhavel leaned forward slightly.

  “To resurrect your family.”

  Ruby nodded again.

  “Yes.”

  The specter blinked slowly.

  “But your parents are alive.”

  Ruby nodded.

  “They are.”

  Another long silence followed.

  Finally Arkhavel asked,

  “…then who exactly are we resurrecting?”

  Ruby hesitated.

  “My other family.”

  The ancient necromancer frowned.

  “…your other family.”

  Ruby nodded.

  “Yes.”

  Arkhavel tilted his head.

  “Are you adopted?”

  Ruby thought about that for a moment.

  Then said,

  “…yes and no.”

  The specter stared at her.

  “That is not an answer.”

  “It’s the best one I have.”

  Another pause followed.

  Arkhavel pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “…this contract is already more complicated than I expected.”

  Ruby shrugged.

  “Sorry.”

  The ancient sorcerer sighed.

  “Well.”

  He straightened his robes slightly.

  “We will untangle that mystery ter.”

  Ruby nodded quickly.

  “Okay.”

  Arkhavel gnced back toward the burned ritual circle.

  “Very well, Ruby SunCleanser.”

  The faint blue glow in his eyes brightened again.

  “Let us begin your education.”

  Ruby’s face lit up instantly.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  The specter gestured toward the destroyed circle.

  “Lesson one.”

  He pointed calmly at the bckened earth.

  “When performing resurrection rituals…”

  He paused.

  “…it is generally advisable to know who you are attempting to resurrect.”

  Ruby scratched the back of her head.

  “Fair.”

  Arkhavel nodded once.

  “Lesson two.”

  His glowing eyes narrowed slightly.

  “When making deals with spirits, demons, or entities beyond the veil… the terms must make sense to both parties.”

  Ruby winced slightly.

  “They didn’t?”

  “No.”

  The specter folded his arms again.

  “You asked for the power to bring your family back from the dead.”

  “Yes.”

  “And your family in this world is alive.”

  Ruby grimaced.

  “…right.”

  Arkhavel sighed.

  “When agreements are poorly defined, loopholes appear.”

  He gestured lightly to himself.

  “In this case, the contract bound me as your mentor… but did not specify the manner of my return.”

  Ruby tilted her head.

  “So… you’re a ghost.”

  “A specter.”

  “Right.”

  “Lesson three.”

  Arkhavel raised a thin finger.

  “I am now tethered to you.”

  Ruby nodded slowly.

  “Like magically attached?”

  “Yes.”

  He stepped away again.

  His body shimmered.

  He stepped back.

  Solid.

  “As you grow stronger,” he continued, “you will be able to support me mana.”

  Ruby blinked.

  “…support you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like food?”

  “Like fuel.”

  Arkhavel lifted his hand slightly.

  “With enough mana I will be able to interact with the physical world again.”

  Ruby tilted her head.

  “So you’re like a spirit guardian/parasite.”

  The specter paused.

  Then nodded slowly.

  “…that description will suffice.”

  Ruby smiled.

  “That’s actually pretty cool.”

  Arkhavel looked mildly offended by how casually she said that.

  Then he continued.

  “Lastly.”

  His voice grew quieter.

  “Dark magic is not something you can simply know or use immediately.”

  Ruby listened closely.

  “It will take time.”

  “Years of study.”

  “Years of practice.”

  “Years of discipline.”

  The faint blue light in his eyes dimmed slightly.

  “And as the name suggests…”

  His voice lowered.

  “…it will lead you to dark pces.”

  Ruby swallowed.

  Emma’s face fshed through her mind.

  The kids.

  The quiet road.

  The crash.

  Her fists tightened slightly.

  Arkhavel watched her carefully.

  “Are you ready for that?”

  Ruby looked up at him.

  “Yes.”

  The ancient necromancer studied her quietly.

  Then slowly smiled.

  “Good.”

  He gnced toward the distant trees where the world waited beyond the forest.

  “Because lesson four…”

  Ruby tilted her head.

  “What’s lesson four?”

  Arkhavel sighed.

  “Lesson four is that if your discovered to use dark magic you will most likely be hated…”

  He looked down at her.

  “…if somebody powerful dislikes you enough, your magical education will end immediately.”

  Ruby’s eyes widened.

  “Oh.”

  She grabbed her pack quickly.

  “We should go home.”

  “Yes,” Arkhavel said.

  “That would be wise.”

  Ruby turned and started walking toward the trees.

  Behind her, the ancient specter drifted silently through the ruined clearing.

  Bound.

  Tethered.

  Following the ten-year-old girl who had summoned him back from death.

  He watched her for a moment.

  Then murmured quietly to himself.

  “…this is going to be interesting.”

  And followed his apprentice home.

  The sky had turned the soft gold of te evening by the time Ruby reached the clearing around the cabin.

  Smoke curled zily from the stone chimney, and the smell of stew drifted through the cooling air. The wooden house looked warm and alive against the darkening forest, light flickering from the windows like a ntern in the trees.

  Ruby slowed as she stepped onto the packed dirt path leading to the door.

  Behind her, Arkhavel drifted quietly through the air.

  “…rustic,” the specter murmured, studying the structure with mild interest.

  Ruby pushed the door open.

  Inside, the cabin glowed with warm firelight. The hearth crackled softly against the far wall, and the long wooden table nearby held a few scattered tools and bowls from earlier meals.

  Mira stood near the fire stirring a pot that hung over the fmes. Her long copper-red hair was pulled into a loose braid down her back, though wisps had escaped and curled around her cheeks from the heat of the kitchen. She wore a soft blue homespun dress with rolled sleeves and a dark apron tied at her waist, the fabric dusted lightly with flour.

  In her arms sat Evelyn.

  The baby’s tiny hands waved zily while she blinked up at the ceiling beams, her bright red hair just beginning to grow in soft wisps across her round little head.

  Mira looked up.

  “Ruby?”

  Her brow furrowed.

  “Where were you? You disappeared half the afternoon.”

  Ruby stepped inside quickly, trying to look casual.

  “Just outside.”

  Behind her, Arkhavel floated through the doorway.

  He gnced around the cabin slowly.

  “…I expected a darker interior,” he said thoughtfully.

  Ruby ignored him.

  At the table sat Darius.

  He leaned back in a heavy wooden chair, his broad shoulders filling most of the space behind it. The bandages around his injured shoulder were visible beneath a loose brown tunic. His dark beard was thick and slightly uneven where Mira had trimmed it earlier in the week, and his deep brown eyes watched Ruby carefully.

  “You were in the woods again,” he said.

  Ruby shrugged.

  “Maybe.”

  Evelyn suddenly squealed happily and kicked her tiny legs.

  Ruby’s expression softened instantly.

  “Oh hey, Evie.”

  She stepped closer, and Mira carefully passed the baby into Ruby’s arms.

  Evelyn was warm and soft against her chest, wrapped in a pale yellow bnket. Her tiny fingers immediately grabbed a fistful of Ruby’s sleeve and tugged it toward her mouth.

  Arkhavel drifted closer.

  “…remarkably small human.”

  Ruby muttered quietly under her breath.

  “She’s a baby.”

  “I assumed as much.”

  Evelyn blinked up at Ruby with wide green eyes and made a soft bubbling sound.

  Ruby smiled.

  Behind her, Mira suddenly froze.

  “…Ruby.”

  Ruby stiffened.

  “What?”

  Mira stepped forward quickly.

  Her eyes locked onto Ruby’s arm and hands.

  “…why is there blood on you?”

  Ruby looked down.

  The dark stain had dried along her arm. And her hands were covered in it from making the circle.

  Right.

  Mira’s face immediately drained of color.

  “Ruby what happened?”

  She grabbed Ruby’s wrist and turned it over.

  The small cut across Ruby’s skin was still red.

  “Oh gods—”

  “It’s just a scratch!” Ruby said quickly.

  Mira stared at her.

  “That is not a scratch!”

  “It is!”

  “Ruby!”

  Darius chuckled quietly from the table.

  “Let me guess,” he said. “Tree.”

  Ruby nodded quickly.

  “I was climbing again.”

  Mira looked exasperated.

  “You’re going to break your neck one day.”

  Ruby shrugged awkwardly.

  “I slipped.”

  Arkhavel drifted near the ceiling beams, watching the exchange.

  “…your deception is serviceable,” he whispered.

  Ruby pretended not to hear him.

  Mira sighed heavily and took Evelyn back.

  “Go wash up.”

  Ruby nodded.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  She slipped toward the back of the cabin while Darius watched her go with a faint amused smile.

  Arkhavel followed.

  The wash room was small and simple. A wooden basin sat against the wall beside a hand pump, and several iron buckets rested neatly beneath a shelf lined with soap bars and folded cloths.

  Ruby filled one of the buckets slowly with cool water.

  Then she crouched beside it and held her hand just above the surface.

  A tiny fme flickered to life in her palm.

  The fire glowed softly as she focused, letting the warmth seep slowly into the water. She had practiced this hundreds of times. The heat spread gradually through the bucket until faint steam began to rise.

  Behind her, Arkhavel drifted quietly around the room.

  “…efficient use of magic,” he observed.

  Ruby shrugged.

  “Practice. Plus I like warm baths."

  He examined the wooden walls.

  “This structure is surprisingly well maintained.”

  Ruby dipped a cloth into the water.

  “My dad built most of it.”

  “I see.”

  Arkhavel studied the shelves.

  “Your mother organizes supplies well.”

  Ruby paused.

  “You’re just going to… comment on everything now?”

  “I have been dead for several centuries,” he replied calmly. “Observation is enjoyable.”

  Ruby sighed.

  Then she hesitated.

  She reached for the hem of her shirt.

  And stopped.

  She slowly looked over her shoulder.

  Arkhavel was watching.

  “…can you at least turn around?”

  The specter blinked.

  “If that is what you wish.”

  He raised both hands awkwardly as if surrendering.

  Then he turned around.

  His body lifted gently into the air and crossed its legs, settling into a floating meditation position.

  Ruby stared at him.

  “…that’s so weird.”

  She carefully pulled her shirt off.

  Her body still felt small and unfamiliar sometimes, though she had lived in it for years now. Her shoulders were narrow and her arms thin, the skin smooth and pale beneath the soot and ash from the forest. The cut on her wrist looked smaller now that it had been cleaned, just a thin red line against soft young skin.

  She dipped the cloth into the warm water and began gently wiping the dirt from her arms and neck.

  The surface of the water reflected her faintly.

  A little girl stared back.

  Freckles dusted across her nose. Bright red hair that had escaped its braid hung loosely around her face. Her green eyes looked older than they should have.

  Ruby studied the reflection for a moment.

  Her skin looked young.

  Soft.

  Not like the rough hands she remembered from her old life.

  “…still weird,” she murmured.

  Behind her, Arkhavel spoke without turning around.

  “You are speaking to yourself.”

  “I know.”

  “Humans do that often it appears. I forgot that fact.”

  Ruby rolled her eyes.

  She finished cleaning the soot from her arms and dipped the cloth back into the water.

  Outside the wash room, the sounds of the cabin continued softly.

  Mira moving around the kitchen.

  Darius shifting his chair.

  Evelyn making tiny happy noises.

  Ruby stared at the reflection in the bucket again.

  Then gnced back at the floating specter.

  A centuries-old necromancer.

  Meditating in her wash room.

  “…yeah,” she sighed quietly.

  “This is my life now.”