The Ghost Way
© Aaron Ranta

[ST 103 ADT - Academy]

"And of course, timber and livestock were being exported quite frequently to the northern countries all throughout the conflict. Which would play a major role later on, of course..."

Valtris stifled a yawn with considerable effort. He could think of few things worse then having to sit through one of Old Goat Breath's history classes first thing in the morning. Her ability to make it seem even remotely interesting was less then remote, which, combined with her incessant and monotonous drawl, would probably have put the wind itself to sleep.

As if to make his point, their was a momentary break in the storm that had been raging outside since early that morning. But the calm did not last more then a few seconds, before the wind was once more came howling at the classroom shutters, like some ravenous beast seeking to rip them from their foundation with claws of rain.

Well, all right, perhaps not the wind, Val conceded, but judging by the vacuous faces and drooping heads of many of his classmates, their instructor's lesson was more then enough to curb her students. Of course, the fact that most of them had been up until the early morning hours the night before, playing cards, did not help their battle any.

Val smiled. He had cleaned up last night. Few of his classmates could match his skill at the game. Which, of course, was half the reason he had convinced them all to play. Both Veran and Otter had cashed out early, and only Poole had doggedly hung on until the very end until he was forced to watch his last copper clink into Valtris’ pocket.

Of course, the little git had immediately begun to whine about it being all the money he had, what with the annual Rain Day Festival only three days away, and no rich parents to provide more. He kept at it until even Otter had suggested Val give the kid some of his coins back, if only to shut him up. But Val had outright refused. If he could not afford to lose the money, he should not have been betting with it, he told them, then had Otter toss Poole out of the hall.

Was the best thing for it, as far as Val was concerned. Money should go to the hands of those who knew how best to use it. Growing up in a merchant house, Val had learned many ways to gain and keep money. And none of that learning included giving it away once fairly gained.

He was in great shape for the Festival now, though. With the extra coins, compliments of Poole, he could probably even spring for a fancy bauble to give to Sera. Admittedly, she had consistently turned aside all his advances to date, but it seemed to Val as if her refusals had taken on a different tone of late. More playing hard to get and flirting then lack of interest. The festive atmosphere of Rainday Festival would be the perfect spot to make his move.

He eyed the dark hair of the girl in question who was listening attentively to the instructor a few rows up, and smiled contentedly.

At the front of the class, Goat Breath made a mistake on some of her dates, off by almost a decade. Val considered, for a brief moment, pointing it out to her, since he knew how much it annoyed her. Noticing the rest of the class dutifully copying the erroneous numbers down like sheep, however, he held back. The more they got wrong the better he'd look, come exam time, he figured.

Aside from having to actually attend this class, the day was turning out quite well, despite the weather. Almost half of those who had attended the previous night's game ... strangely most of those who slept in second hall ... had arrived to class late that morning, having slept through the morning bell. All of this much to the open and vocal displeasure of Old Goat Breath. She had laid into them with a vengeance, their claims that the bell had not even rung falling on very unsympathetic ears.

Val had though the idea to muffle the clapper on the bell in second hall the night before a stroke of genius. Though it had taken a bit of convincing to get Veran to sneak in and do it. Otter had been willing, but he was more apt to ring the bell by accident, then muffle it on purpose. Regardless, it had worked much better then he'd hoped, though judging by a few of the angry glares thrown his way, he guessed that a few of them were already blaming him for the prank. He thought he'd thrown back his best innocent smile beautifully.

Once more he stifled a yawn. Goat Breath was telling them nothing he did not know already. He found history fascinating, when told by anyone but Goat Breath, of course. His father had been a great proponent of learning by other people's mistakes. Val found there were few problems, solutions or tricks that had not come up before during the long course of the world's history. He had known most of what Goat Breath was attempting to teach them now, and a whole lot more, long before he'd ever wandered into these halls. He could not understand why everyone got so mad at him, when he did just as well, or better then they in the class without visible effort or excessive study.

This was not true of every class of course, history was his forté, and he also proved unusually adept at the diplomacy and leadership courses as well. Admittedly, the more physical classes were a bit more of a chore for him. But though he had faults, laziness had never been one of them. He could easily tough out a few discomforts for the few years he was here. And, all in all, he figured he was doing frightfully well at all of it. A nice prestigious city job would be his in no time.

Gods, but he wished the class would end. Otter had mentioned that a bunch of new ‘corns had shown up the night before. Wild ones, even. And they had made plans to go out to the fields after classes, and check them out. Storm be damned. Perhaps one of them was to be his future bondmate.

With only a few weeks left of classes, there was only one thing left that Val had not been able to master: the unicorns. Without the first bond, he would never be able to become Uen Roug, no matter how smart of clever he was. Yet no matter what he did, or how hard he tried, few of the Academy's unicorns seemed to pay him any more heed then any of the other students. He had asked one of the instructors about it once, but she had only shook her head and said that if he didn't know the answer to that, she could not help him. She'd been absolutely no help at all.

He was beginning to worry. Both Otter and Veran had found a unicorn. Hell, even that sickly looking blonde girl from third hall had bonded the other day, he'd heard.

At the front of the class, Goat Breath finally noticed the error she'd made ten minutes before, and seemed quite put out that she had to say it all over again.

Ah well, Val thought, as the class too corrected their notes, better luck next time. He folded his arms over his desk, and rested his chin on them. His eyes watched the back of Sera's beautiful head, and he waited for the class to end thinking pleasant thoughts about what sort of gift he'd buy her, and how she'd thank him.

He didn't even notice when his thoughts drifted even further afield and he fell asleep.

It is often said that the realm of demons and ghosts lay closer the realm of the Living then most would care to think about. And this is most likely true. But there exists between the Netherrealm and that realm in which mortals dwell, a barrier that can not be easily breached. Only those living souls with strong telepathy or related Talents usually have the means for the two realms to interact. Without these, the thoughts of the living can only pass by the barrier, skipping off its surface like a flat stone on water.

At no time do the thoughts of the living come closer to the Netherrealm then during sleep. When the conscious mind gives way to the unconscious. The ghosts and spirits that wander aimlessly and endlessly through the Netherrealm flock to these surface thoughts, like moths to an open flame. Without reason or cause or concern. Merely instinct. Some aspect of the life they once knew, drawn to that of life still known. Denied the chance to pass beyond death, they seek some sort of comfort or solace in something long since beyond their reach. Always some mortal mind drifts just outside the barrier between the realms, sometimes far off, sometimes nearer. And always those ghosts nearby slowly drifted towards it, and mill about. But always separated by the impenetrable barrier.

Perhaps this is the place of dreams. The random thoughts of the unconscious mind, intermingling with the chaotic and aimless thoughts and memories of nearby ghosts. Together, creating the strange images and patterns in sleep, that few could remember upon waking.

This time was no different... except that this mind was slightly more powerful then most. Slowly it pushed at the barrier, until only the thinnest of margins separated it from the void on the other side. Then for just the briefest of moments, the barrier was breached. The nearest ghosts grasped and clutched at the faint tendril of living thought, though they did not know what compelled them to do so. But just as quickly as it had had pierced the barrier, it was withdrawn. Brushing aside those ghosts that clutched at it so desperately, and moving away.

Without that faint sign of life to draw them, the milling ghosts soon departed. To once more wander aimlessly, until some other random life brushed near their semblance of one.

All, that is, except one.

There was little to distinguish this ghost from any of the rest. Perhaps a little older then some. Perhaps once more powerful in life then others. Perhaps none of these things. It had been floating around the void for longer then it knew. Not that time had any meaning in the Netherrealm, nor that the Ghost any understanding of it. Its consciousness had long ago been smothered by the empty nothingness in which it dwelled. And only the warm familiarity of life had drawn it here, as it had drawn the others.

When that achingly familiar tendril was withdrawn, this one ghost alone managed to keep a tenuous hold. Perhaps only because it was the nearest to the point where the wall was breached, or maybe through some other source none could fathom. And with that hold, that smallest of holes stayed open for a brief moment longer then normal.

The Ghost was not really aware of the hole, or that it had managed to hold onto the Life longer then its fellows. Or longer then it was meant to. As far as it knew, this was no different then any other brief contact with the living. It knew only instinct.

But only a living mind could breach the barrier between realms, and only a living mind could keep one open. So what this ghost had was fleeting indeed. But for the moment, it bathed in the life it had contacted. Neither knowing, nor caring, nor understanding, that that contact was only momentarily extended.

"Cadet?!"

The voice grated into his thoughts from somewhere, straining the tenuous grasp he had on sleep, and the strangely vivid dreams that had come with it. Slowly, he fought to surface from them.

"Cadet Llywellyn!"

This time, the tone, and volume was more then a match for any dream. With a start, Val came awake, his eyes flying open, only to find himself staring blearily, square into those of Old Goat Breath. She peered at him from less then a foot away, a look of extreme displeasure evident on her pinched face.

"Ah, nice of you to wake up, Cadet." She said the sarcasm almost dripping.

Val almost gagged at the smell of her breath so near his face. They did not nickname her Goat Breath for no reason, and even his dismay at becoming the spectacle of her wrath was not quite enough to immunize him from the unpleasantness of her breath.

Everyone was looking at him, their boredom momentarily forgotten, amusement in their eyes. Somewhere behind him, he heard someone snickering, and immediately suspected that one of having the courtesy to point out his lapse to the instructor. Gods, he hoped he hadn't been snoring! He blushed slightly, though whether in embarrassment or anger, he wasn't immediately sure.

His brain was still cloudy from being awoken so suddenly. Vague images and voices still floated across his mind, remnants of whatever dream he'd fallen into. They were distracting, and he found himself unable to come up with a quick and suitable retort.

"Since you seem to be so familiar with today's lessons, that you thought a cat nap in order," Goat Breath was saying, smugly. "You should have no trouble writing a report on the topic." She smiled, pleased with herself, then added. "To be presented orally to the class tomorrow, of course."

"Love to." Val finally managed to choke out, doing his best to sound nonchalant, though judging by the giggles of his classmates, he had not been entirely successful.

Thankfully, at that moment, through the noise of the storm outside, a bell tolled, indicating the end of the class period. Those present began to gather their things, and Val quickly began to follow suite, shaking off his strange lethargy, before Goat Breath decided he do it from memory or something as well. Not that the assignment would prove difficult, but it would still take time to do, and he resented the loss of it.

As he left the classroom, he pondered whether he could coax Veran into doing the essay for him. Maybe. If he asked her nice enough. Though it would probably cost him far more then it was worth.

But that was for later. There was still a long day of classes to go, and then an appointment to check out some unicorns!

Damn, he wished his head would stop ringing.

It was raining hard, but the unicorn didn't mind. It had always rather liked the rain, especially during the day time. The wind of course, was a different matter. Rain ceased to be much fun, when it started to move horizontally. He liked the lightning though. The electrical energies in the air were sending strange tingling sensations throughout his body. It was a new sensation, and he found it rather pleasant.

He studied the strange human buildings from afar with trepidation. He knew very little of humans other then what he was told by some of the older members of the Herd. But he had dismissed much of what they had to say. A number of the unicorns he had spoken to had had quite positive things to say, especially about this Academy.

Always somewhat curious, he and a few like-minded of his herd, had decided to come see for themselves. They had not mentioned it to the rest of the Herd so as not to arouse any more displeasure then was necessary. They figured they would visit for a few days, and if they did not like the smell of it, they could easily just turn around and leave, and no one would be the wiser. And if they decided to stay, it wouldn't matter either way.

The unicorn rather hoped those at the Academy might help him develop his Talent. He was still young, only two years old, but as of yet, he had seen frightfully little to tell what his Talent might be. He supposed it would be something similar to his sires, perhaps some means of communicating with the spirit world or something similar... though he secretly hoped it would be something completely new that would make him a great warrior. Communing with ghosts had its place, if one wanted to be a historian, but few young 'corns
hoped such a boring fate on themselves. Most his age had seen the first showings of their Talents by now. It was as if his Talent was waiting for something. He just wished it would hurry up and find it.

He watched the strange, two legged shapes walking, seemingly perpetually trying to stay upright, as they moved about quickly near the buildings. Obviously the wind and rain were not to their liking either, the unicorn thought with an equine chuckle.

Off in the distance, three small figures separated themselves from the main building, and started across the field in the unicorn's direction. One was quite large, the unicorn guessed, by human standards, while the second, though not quite as bulky, was just as tall. The third was smaller then both of them. All three had cloth coverings draped over themselves, in an attempt to keep the elements off with large hoods covering their heads. The small one and the large one seemed to be arguing about something, while the middle sized merely listened and said nothing.

None of them seemed to be paying much attention to their surroundings, nor did they notice the unicorn, standing quietly on the hill, as they approached, until they were almost on top of him. He let out a snort of greeting, and pawed one hoof on the ground to get their attention.

The smaller figure stopped talking suddenly, turning to face him with surprise, while gravity finally caught up to the larger one, who suddenly fell over face first into the mud with a curse.

The third figure however, merely looked up, somewhat startled, and met the unicorn's gaze.

Valtris’ thoughts were preoccupied. He had been unable to focus them ever since History class that morning and had floated through the remainder of the day's lectures in a perpetual fog. Even Otter and Veran’s good-natured arguing over the best way to get even with the cadet who'd ratted him out that morning, barely registered. Currently Veran was leaning towards a live skunk while Otter preached the virtues of various types of stinging insects.

Val thought briefly about mentioning that skunks were not indigenous to this part of the country and that most of the insects would be gone for the season, but his mind wasn't into it. It was as if somewhere, in the back of his skull, someone was screaming at him over and over. He could not keep a train of thought going long enough work around it and form a coherent sentence, much less argue the vagaries of revenge with his friends. He had a splitting headache and was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn't getting sick or something. He did not relish the thought, this close to graduation. Especially with the archery tests in
the morning.

Suddenly, almost right in front of them, there was a loud snort, and the sound of a hoof striking the ground in warning. Veran let out a startled gasp, trailing off in mid sentence as she turned to face the source of the sounds. Otter took a different approach, immediately tripping over his feet, and going face down into the muddy field. Val could only look up, as if in some dream, and his eyes met those of the most wondrous unicorn he had ever seen.

It was not one he recognized, though the weather made such identification difficult, and his gaze did not get far beyond the creatures eyes to try.

It was as if some barrier between him and the unicorn instantly crumbled as their eyes
locked. It was like nothing he had ever imagined, or dreamed of. For the briefest of
moments, it was as if his entire life up until that point had had little meaning at all, and had
merely been biding its time until this one. Even the ringing in his head seemed to fade
away..

But the moment was only that: brief. Suddenly, the pain in his head amplified a hundred fold. The ringing, momentarily forgotten, increased to a crescendo. He felt the beautiful bond he had been forming with the unicorn crumble like dust, and a feeling of surprise not his own, immediately followed by one of pain, both of which crumbled with it. Then his vision cut out, blinded by spears of searing pain.

He did not remember falling to the ground, or screaming, or anything else, for quite some
time.

There were voices somewhere nearby, he thought. No... only a single voice, but it seemed to fade in and out, and change tempo and tone at random, such that it seemed like many voices. It was not saying anything he could understand, seemingly just random lines of syllables strung together without rhyme or reason.

He wished whoever it was would shut up. His head hurt something awful and for some reason, he couldn't open his eyes. Or perhaps it just hurt to much to try. There was a strange emptiness inside him he could not place.

He moaned faintly.

"Cadet?"

Now that one made sense. He thought, and with that, the other strange voice receded, though not so far that he couldn't still hear it, off in the distance. There was a momentary instant of confusion, as he realized he couldn't quite figure out exactly which direction the first voice was coming from.

"Cadet Llywellyn?" The second voice repeated.

Well, this one at least he could pin-point. Above him, and to the left. He had a strange feeling he was reliving events that had already happened, and instinctively knew something unpleasant was at the end of that voice. Despite the feeling, once more he tried to open his eyes. The pain was not as bad as he'd first thought, though it hinted at great things if he put too much effort into it. Slowly, his lids moved up, and hazy images floated before him.

He blinked once, trying to expel the blurring, and slowly a face came into focus, followed shortly by a small room, and some other faces beyond the first. He did not know many of them, though recognized a few as some of the higher ups at the Academy. Not so bad after all, he thought, until he noticed that none of them looked at all pleased... and in fact some looked fairly hostile.

He wondered what sort of mess he'd gotten into now. With considerable effort, he tried to recall why he was here. And with that attempt, it all came flooding back. The classes. Falling asleep. His head ache. The storm. Going out to the fields with Otter and Veran. The unicorn...

The unicorn!

The joy of first bonding. The agony of losing it. It all came back to him. And not just his own pain, he had felt the unicorn's pain as well.

"The ‘corn." He managed to croak out weakly, in a brief panic.

Gods, he hoped it was not injured!

"What..." He tried to ask what happened, but could not finish the sentence.

The stern faces that surrounded him ignored his queries anyway.

"What have you done?" One of them demanded angrily.

Val had a strange sinking feeling in his stomach.

He could only stand there, silently, beneath the angry and accusing glares and words of those around him, without response. He was hardly aware of their presence as they tried to decide his fate. The only thing that mattered was now far beyond his reach.

Everything else seemed so immaterial. It could never be as bad as what had already occurred. Inside, he felt as if some part of him had been ripped out, and only a huge gaping hole remained. A hole that he had no means to fill. There was nothing more they could do that would be worse then that loss. The sorrow and guilt over what had happened almost overwhelmed him.

It had been weeks since the accident, and he knew little more then when it had started. No one at all would even speak to him of the unicorn, even so much as to mention it's fate. He guessed that it was still alive, but beyond that...

Inside his head, the quiet voice of the Ghost was silent, although he could still feel it, just on the edge of his senses. There, always there. A constant reminder of what was, and what would never be.

He closed his eyes, and a silent tear rolled down his cheek.

And slowly, painfully, he tried to forget.

Forming a bond with a human had been an interesting experience. Perhaps it might even have turned into a joyful one, if it had not been cut short. The pain had only been brief. More surprise then anything else. The human had seemed as surprised as he.

Later, they had tried to explain what had happened to him, but it had made little sense. Ghosts and the Netherrealm, it was all too much in the wake of everything else. All he knew was that for some reason the bond between himself and the human had been broken, if it had ever formed at all, and now he was unable to communicate with any of them.

He and the others left the Academy grounds almost immediately. This had not been the sort of experience they were expecting, and it was not something any of the rest of them were eager to stick around and try for themselves. So back they had gone, to the Herd.

Always a bit tentative about dealing so closely with the humans, this event only worked to strengthen their distrust. He would not miss the ability to communicate with them. He counted it as good luck that the 'ghost' had kept him from making what he figured would have been a mistake. And later, he counted it as his first good luck.

He never knew what became of the human, nor did he much care. He hadn't even learned his name. He was done dealing with them. The Herd was all he needed. He had been a foolish to seek otherwise, especially amongst humans.

And slowly, without fanfare, he was forgotten.

The endless void that had been its existence for as long as it could recall had been broken. Somehow, a small bridge had formed, outside the Netherrealm, and images and thoughts were there, drifting in. Such things had happened before, it vaguely recalled, but they had never persisted for long, and any lasting impressions had quickly been consumed by the emptiness all around.

But this time was different. There had been, for a brief moment, a sensation completely foreign to it, although it seemed to recall knowing of it once: Pain.

It had relished the newness of the feeling. Something other then the void. It did not matter that it was unpleasant. It was different. And though the feeling was brief, it was enough to make it aware of the images that followed it, and consider them more closely then it normally would have done. And this time, the images did not go away. The continued to pour in sometimes strongly, sometimes weakly, but continuously. Until eventually the Void was unable to wipe the memory of them away as quickly as they came in.

Vaguely familiar patterns floated through its consciousness. Things it had long ago forgotten existed or forgotten were important. Its non corporeal substance quivered slightly, with excitement, although it did not yet know the reasons.

Slowly it sifted through the new feelings and images.

And slowly, ever so slowly, it began to remember.