《We Won't Give Up On Love [Harem / Slice-of-Life]》


 Chapter 1: Cal’s Normal Life Begins and Ends

    [September 1, 2042]


    As the wind stirred the leaves of grass and lifted the smell of sea-salt along the hill that slopped gently upward, two figures stood, as if lost, before the old-fashioned manor. The taller, a young woman in her mid-20s with long flowing black hair, was dressed in a flowing coat of dark-blue cotton, with a thin blue scarf wrapped around her neck. She looked up at the manor with a puzzled expression on her face. The shorter was a boy, about nineteen, with similarly dark hair. He had a different expression on his face, almost of longing, as if the manor was a thing he had been long searching for. He held a single, small leather suitcase in his hand.


    The woman pursed her lips. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ how do you say it¡­ retro? I suppose that¡¯s the word. Not quite what a person expects from student housing.¡±


    The young man nodded. ¡°The owner said it''s styled on manors that were being built two centuries ago. Apparently, his dad was a fan of old architecture when he built it on this land.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s funny looking, don''t you think? A little slanted, maybe? Like it could slide down the hill into the sea.¡±


    ¡°Sis, you¡¯re worrying too much.¡±


    The woman laughed, and brushed a tangle of her from her eyes that the wind scattered over her forehead. ¡°Yes, I know. I can¡¯t help it. I never imagined this would happen so soon.¡± Her smile faded, and she turned to the boy. ¡°Cal, I¡¯m really happy for you. I mean it. I hope¡­ I hope it¡¯s everything you want it to be.¡±


    Cal met the woman¡¯s gaze, and nodded again. His eyes were dark and seemed as if they understood more than his face revealed. ¡°Thanks, sis. I know. I¡¯m going to miss you, too.¡± He reached over his free hand and squeezed the woman¡¯s hand once, before releasing it. ¡°Thank you. For everything you¡¯ve done.¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyes widened in amazement at his gesture. She laughed again, though more out of a wish to conceal the small lump forming in the back of her throat than anything amusing. ¡°Gosh Cal, you¡¯ve grown up so much, do you know that?¡± She seemed like she wanted to say more, then abruptly clapped her cheeks with her palms, as if to steady herself. ¡°Alright! The cab¡¯s waiting back at the gate, I should start heading back. Oh! One more thing.¡±


    Slowly, the woman untangled the thin blue scarf from around her neck, and draped it gently over Cal¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Here, a last gift for you,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°It will get cold in the city, especially in the winter.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Goodbye. I¡¯ll visit you as often as I can.¡±


    ¡°Goodbye, sis.¡±


    The woman squeezed Cal¡¯s hand once, reciprocating the gesture he had done to her previously, then she turned and headed back down the hill. Her blue coat billowed behind her, abstracting the form of her body. Cal watched her go for about half a minute, then looked up the manor before him.


    Otter Manor, as previously mentioned, was a manor built in the style of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. It was two-stories, framed with dark wood and walls of white paint, with a sloped roof. There was a small portico supported by two smooth wooden columns, and wide windows that designated where inside the building the rooms were separated. The property consisted of the entire hill upon which Cal stood, which angled upward towards the sea until it ended in a steep drop to the water below. The water carved around the hill, leaving only a small corridor of grass at the base of the hill connected to the rest of the coast. This was the place Cal would be the part-time caretaker of for the next four years.


    Among the tall, silver obelisk-like buildings of Extremis City, Otter Manor and the hill of grass it sat upon stuck out like a sore thumb, but Cal didn¡¯t mind. The manor was only a fifteen minute walk from the campus of the university he would be attending this fall, and besides, he liked how the manor was close in proximity yet still isolated from the hustle and bustle of the metropolis. The green hill of grass was attached like a small air-bubble along the coast of the city ¡ª the only way to enter the manor¡¯s property was the iron gate at the bottom of the hill, at the place where the land abruptly narrowed before meeting the coast.


    Cal took a breath, gripped his suitcase, and made his way to the impressive pair of oak doors, knocking once. After a few moments, one of the doors opened and a gloomy-looking, middle-aged man with curly dark hair emerged. He had wide circular glasses and dark circles around his eyes, as if he hadn¡¯t had a good night¡¯s sleep in a long time. Through the glasses, he looked at Cal with a speculative gaze.


    Cal decided to speak first. ¡°Mr. Frost? I¡¯m Cal, the new caretaker. I was scheduled to arrive today. We spoke on FoxChat.¡±


    The man nodded, and gestured with his hand. ¡°Yes, hello. It¡¯s nice to meet you in person at last, Cal.¡± His low and quiet voice didn¡¯t indicate any such pleasure. ¡°Come in, and call me Isaac, please.¡±


    Cal stepped into a large room decorated with red carpet, artwork, and leather chairs pushed against small wooden tables ¡ª upon which were haphazardly placed books, used mugs, and someone¡¯s discarded cardigan. To the left and right hallways stretched away into other rooms, while a large staircase took up the back of the room opposite the door, the steps also carpeted. Cal bent his head up to look at the high ceiling supported by a pair of wooden columns a few paces from the door.


    Isaac caught his stare, and met it with his blue eyes. ¡°Do you like it? I understand it¡¯s not exactly the modern accommodations that young people like yourself are used to these days.¡±


    Cal shrugged. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter. I like it. It¡¯s fancy but not¡­ ostentatious, I suppose. It feels homely.¡±


    Isaac smiled faintly, though there was no real warmth beyond the expression. ¡°My father would be happy to hear that. He would also be happy to see that there were young people living in the house he designed, after such a long time.¡±


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    Cal frowned. ¡°Such a long time?¡±


    Isaac started to walk further into the room, and Cal followed. ¡°Nobody has lived in Otter Manor for many years. Twenty-five, to be exact.¡± Upon saying the number, Isaac¡¯s eyes narrowed in melancholy. ¡°I suppose I got sick of it sitting up here on this lonely hill, unoccupied. Since I¡¯m the owner now that my father has passed, I thought opening it up to students would at least give this place a purpose. Finding tenants hasn¡¯t been easy, but I found my first a month or so ago. I¡¯ve been taking care of things since that time. Cleaning, cooking, ensuring this old house doesn¡¯t fall apart. Now that you¡¯re here, these responsibilities will fall to you. There¡¯s an old laundry machine. You can coordinate with the girls on how to approach that.¡±


    As he said this, Isaac laid his hand on one of the pillars, tracing miniscule indentations in the wood with his fingernails. ¡°Anyway, let me give you the tour.¡±


    The first floor of Otter Manor had been designated for faculties. The left hallway led to a kitchen, which had a long dining table and was large and well-stocked, though Isaac gently reminded Cal that he would be responsible for buying and cooking food for dinner and breakfast ¡ª for himself and the tenants ¡ª since Cal¡¯s role as caretaker allowed him to live in Otter Manor without paying for accommodation fees. There was also a bathroom, and a library with large bookshelves that reached the ceiling. Off the right hallway was a cozy living room with an old-fashioned wide-screen television, and a laundry room.


    ¡°All the bedrooms are upstairs,¡± explained Isaac, as he led Cal back to the staircase. ¡°You¡¯re in 01, at the end of the hallway, next to the bathroom. There¡¯s a shower there, and in the bathroom downstairs, as you saw. Currently, there¡¯s two other tenants. The one in 02 is terribly shy, poor thing, so be patient. You may not see them out and about for a few days at a time. Ellie is in 03. You said you¡¯re majoring in sustainable energy at your university, right? Likewise for her. You should see her around. She¡¯s a very bright girl.¡±


    Isaac scratched his nose. ¡°Oh, and another tenant is scheduled to arrive in a week or so. She¡¯ll be taking up the room in the loft. I think she¡¯s from a foreign country, so try to be accommodating. That means rooms 04 and 05 are currently empty, though some tenants may still apply later, of course. Regardless, it will still be your responsibility to keep them clean. Any questions?¡±


    Cal thought about it. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re set.¡± Isaac reached into his pocket and dropped a keychain into Cal¡¯s palm.


    Very retro, thought Cal. You were right, sis.


    ¡°The large brass key is the front door. Every tenant¡¯s door can be unlocked with the corresponding labeled key, though of course, you will be expected to respect their privacy. You can take it easy for now, if you wish. You are not expected to begin fulfilling your duty until the start of your university term, on the 7th-¡±


    Isaac paused suddenly, and looked around, like something had broken his concentration.


    ¡°Mr. Frost ¡ª Isaac, I mean ¡ª are you okay, sir?¡± said Cal.


    Isaac smiled sadly again. ¡°No, there¡¯s nothing. It¡¯s a peculiar building that¡¯s all. Dredges up old memories. I spent my summers here, as a child. Sometimes I fancy I can hear noises or see things that I recognize from the past.¡± He sighed. ¡°Well, that was a long time ago.¡±


    He turned to Cal and extended his arm. ¡°I wish you luck, young man, with your studies and your work here. Call me if there is anything you are unsure about or need clarified. I live very close, so don¡¯t be hesitant to call me up here if there¡¯s anything that I can assist with.¡±


    Cal looked at the man¡¯s pale hand, which seemed fragile like the twigs of a branch. He took the hand, a little awkwardly. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    Isaac nodded, and exited the house with a particular gait, as if he were turning his back to something painful. Cal was alone in the large room.


    Cal took a deep breath. He put his suitcase down on the carpeted floor, and holding the keychain loosely in his other hand, he crouched down low to the floor to exhale deeply. ¡°Here we are,¡± he said to himself under his breath. ¡°The starting line, the final starting line. Your only chance, your last chance, so don¡¯t screw it up. Show them what you¡¯re made of. Show that you can do this after all.¡±


    For a moment, Cal pressed the soft material of his scarf to his cheek, and then he stood back up. He pocketed the keychain, picked up his suitcase, and dragged it up to the second floor of Otter Manor, which was little more than a hallway of labeled doors, leading to tenant bedrooms. Upon pieces of cardboard tapped to the doors, numbers had been written in black marker, from 01 to 05. At the leftmost end of the hallway, door 01 and the bathroom. At the rightmost, door 05 and another staircase, this one thin and curling, which Cal presumed led to the loft. Door 03 was in the middle, and the first thing Cal saw when he came up the staircase. It was left open ajar carelessly, and seemingly unoccupied at the moment.


    03 is Ellie, he remembered, I should introduce myself to the tenant in 02.


    Cal came up to door 02 and knocked once. Immediately, there was a loud squeak like a field mouse, and the sound of something heavy being knocked over. Next, there followed a particularly pregnant silence, as if someone on the other side of the door was holding their breath, desperately trying not to make another sound.


    Mr. Frost wasn¡¯t lying when he said they were shy, I suppose.


    Cal left his suitcase against the wall, and went back downstairs to find a paper and pencil, which he found in a drawer in the living room. Upon the piece of paper he scribbled this long message: ¡°Sorry for startling you. I¡¯m the new caretaker of Otter Manor, and just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Cal. I¡¯m nineteen, and will be a student at the university this term. If there is any issue at any time, I will be more than happy to assist you or contact Mr. Frost. I will be preparing breakfast and dinner every day, at 8 in the morning and 5 in the evening respectively, for all tenants, but it¡¯s up to you whether you want to attend. You don¡¯t need to eat a single one of my meals, I won¡¯t mind.¡±


    Cal returned upstairs, pushed the paper under the door, picked up his suitcase, and found himself standing before door 01. His room. Beyond this door led to the sort of life he had only ever dreamed of. A soft life, a simple life, with no sudden twists or complications. For the first time, a look of contentement came over Cal¡¯s face.


    My normal life starts now.


    Cal smiled to himself, and opened the door.


    A girl, dressed in a white sundress, was levitating in the middle of the room. Her short black hair was a disheveled pixie-cut. She was perhaps a year younger than Cal in appearance, with beautiful pale skin and blue eyes. There was something about her face that Cal noticed immediately: a striking familiarity that he couldn¡¯t quite place.


    The girl floated in the air, her bare toes hovering about two feet above the wooden floor, counting something on her fingers and seemingly oblivious to Cal entering the room. ¡°First,¡± she muttered, ¡°I¡¯ll do something classic, like shake the table or the bed frame. No, no! It should be something more subtle. I need to build up the appropriate atmosphere. First, I¡¯ll make sure things go missing one by one. Make him jumpy. Then, in the night, I¡¯ll start whispering vague and threatening things, like ¡®it¡¯s so dark¡­¡¯ or ¡°leave this place, mortal!¡¯ Oh, this will be fun!¡±


    She clapped her hands together in delight, and a wide, childish smile lit up her face. ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited! This is your first haunting! You don¡¯t want to mess up the art of the thing. There''s craftsmanship involved, a tradition that has been inherited, a certain beau id¨¦al. Remember what your masters taught you.¡±


    ¡°Ah, dammit.¡± muttered Cal aloud.


    His normal life, minutes into its lifespan, abruptly and cruelly ended, evaporating like a teardrop in the sun.


    There was a ghost haunting room 01 of Otter Manor.

 Chapter 2: Mel Is a Scary Ghost, Don’t Make Fun of Her

    [September 1, 2042]


    The ghost pumped her fist in the air. ¡°Okay, get hyped!¡± she said, ¡°get hyped and get scary!¡±


    Cal sighed, and with a resigned expression on his face, entered the room. He walked around where the ghost was hovering, and gloomily sat down on the bed, placing his suitcase down next to him. In the spacious room, there was a writing desk with a chair, a wardrobe, and a large window with a lovely view of the grassy hill, but he wasn¡¯t in the mood to admire it. The bitter disappointment of losing his briefly-attained normal life and the ridiculous sight of the bare-footed ghost girl hovering in the middle of the room had abruptly darkened his mood. He watched the ghost girl float up and down softly, as if she were attached to a buoy upon a gentle ocean, and wondered if he should say anything.


    Meanwhile, the ghost girl was still talking to herself, stroking her round chin as if she were puzzling over something complex. ¡°Slamming the door seems like a good trick, but patience, patience Mel! In horror movies, when the young bright-eyed couple buy a haunted house, the haunting doesn¡¯t properly begin until at least a half-hour into the movie. That¡¯s when the ghost chucks a book at their child¡¯s head, or something. So, you have to give him a few days to settle in. To become comfortable. To lower his guard. Then-¡± She pumped her fist again. ¡°You use your special move!¡±


    ¡°And what special move is that, may I inquire?¡± Cal had decided to interject, if only to stop the ghost girl¡¯s endless monologue that seemed to have no end.


    ¡°Tsk, tsk.¡± The ghost girl, who was still facing the open door as she hovered in the air, closed her eyes and wagged her index finger in a pantomime kind of gesture. ¡°A master cannot reveal their secrets. You must build anticipation, intrigue, suspense-¡±


    She stopped. She opened her blue eyes, and jerked her head up. She began to rotate in the air, the hem of her white sundress twirling gently. She looked at Cal as he sat on the bed, narrowing her eyes, as if trying to look straight through him at the white-painted walls. Then she looked behind herself, checking that there was nobody else in the room.


    She looked back at Cal. ¡°That was weird,¡± she said under her breath, ¡°it¡¯s almost like you responded to me. Like you can hear me.¡±


    Cal opened the suitcase that he had placed on his bed. ¡°I can hear you. I can see you, too, in case you were wondering.¡±


    ¡°No, you can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can.¡±


    The ghost, still floating above the floor, started to drift slowly toward where Cal sat on the bed. She continually leaned her body and neck forward, until the shape of her lithe body was nearly parallel to the floor. Her face close to his, she studied Cal. He could see the faint freckles on her nose and the deep blueness that twinkled in the depths of her eyes. Her expression was one of pure confusion and curiosity.


    ¡°You can hear me?¡± The ghost¡¯s voice was soft and tentative, as if she was scared of hearing the answer.


    ¡°I can.¡± Cal responded simply.


    ¡°And you see me?¡±


    ¡°I can.¡±


    Her eyes lit up with an emotion that Cal couldn¡¯t quite explain. It was something between inexpressible sadness and relief. She smiled, and silently drifted close to Cal¡¯s face. He could have counted her eyelashes, she was so close.


    And then suddenly: ¡°Eh!!!¡±


    The ghost reeled backward in the air, her limbs flailing, her face flushing with a look of embarrassment and horror. ¡°B-b-but¡­¡± she stammered, trying to orient her thoughts. ¡°How is that possible?! People who are alive can¡¯t-¡±


    She froze perfectly in the air, and blushed a deep shade of red. ¡°Wait, does that mean you heard everything I was saying?!¡±


    Cal was disinterestedly assessing the continents of his suitcase. ¡°Oh, about your plan to pull off the perfect haunting? Yeah, I heard all of that. Sounded dumb. Like anything you mentioned would be enough to legitimately scare a person from this room.¡±


    The ghost girl looked slightly hurt. ¡°It¡­ wasn¡¯t dumb. It was a good plan.¡± Then a look of realization crossed her face and she looked accusatory at Cal. ¡°Wait! If you can see me, why aren¡¯t you frightened? I¡¯m a ghost!¡±


    Cal shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re a girl in a sundress. You aren¡¯t exactly intimidating.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m still a ghost! Doesn¡¯t that scare you? Doesn¡¯t it make you question your faith? Doesn¡¯t it fill you with existential dread and confusion?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    The ghost tried to stamp her foot, but since she was floating, all she succeeded in doing was kicking her foot in empty air and making the hem of her white dress jump. ¡°Well, in that case, you have no idea the horror that a true haunting entails!¡± She grinned wolfishly, and jutted a finger at Cal. ¡°Let me paint you a picture. Tell me mortal, have you ever seen the movie¡­ Poltergeist?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh. How about Candyman?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°The Shining?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°The Ring?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°...Ghostbusters?¡±


    ¡°No. Why are all these movies like seventy years old?¡±


    ¡°How about The Exorcist?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that movie about a demonic possession, not a ghost?¡±


    The ghost stamped her foot again into empty air. ¡°You¡¯re useless!¡±


    Cal sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t see why it¡¯s my responsibility to justify the aesthetic of your would-be haunting. Look, this is how I see it.¡± He fixed an intense stare at the ghost, and she flinched in response, holding her clenched hands to her chest. ¡°If you were already planning to haunt me, then that means you knew I was coming, and that means you know who I am, right? The new caretaker of Otter Manor. Now, as the caretaker, I¡¯m responsible for the paying tenants of this building. That does not include you.¡±


    Imitating the ghost¡¯s dramatic gesture from early, Cal sharply pointed a finger at the ghost. ¡°That means you¡¯re trespassing in this room ¡ª my room, now ¡ª and in this building.¡±


    The ghost girl¡¯s mouth was open in shock, and her voice was incredulous. ¡°Trespassing? How could I possibly be trespassing?¡±


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    Cal got to his feet, and walked over to the open door. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve been doing until this point, but from this moment, you¡¯re evicted,¡± he said. ¡°Go haunt some other place. I don¡¯t know if you have some possessions of any sort, but you can take a moment to gather them before you float out of here.¡±


    As Cal walked out of the room, the ghost stared after him in shock, filled with so many conflicting thoughts she couldn¡¯t get a single one of them out. Finally, she called after him, quite lamely: ¡°B-but, you can¡¯t evict me¡­ I¡¯m haunting you¡­¡±


    Cal went back downstairs. He memorized the foodstuffs in the kitchen to determine what meals he could make with them, used the downstairs bathroom, and checked out the books in the expansive library. Next, he went to the living room and turned on the TV, and was pleasantly surprised that he found the old appliance easy to use. When the TV flickered to life, Cal saw that it had been left on the evening news.


    ¡°...Still haven¡¯t confirmed the identity of the masked individual.¡± The middle aged-newscaster appeared to be the middle of a story. ¡°But the citizens they saved yesterday in Central Extremis still have these words to say to their mysterious savior¡­¡±


    Cal switched off the television, and went back upstairs. As he made his way back to room 01, he noticed that a page of paper had been pushed underneath the door frame of room 02 into the hallway. It was the paper he had written his note on earlier, and underneath his original words, was a new message in a delicate hand. It read: It¡¯s nice to meet you, Cal. My name is Ram. I¡¯m sorry for not answering your knock earlier. It¡¯s not my intention to be rude, but I just became very nervous when I heard the noise. I¡¯m not a very outgoing person, so if you see me and I don¡¯t answer your greeting, please don¡¯t take it the wrong way. I¡¯m trying to improve myself. I¡¯m watching an online course on how to speak to people. I hope we can be friends.


    Cal read the note, and smiled just a little bit. He folded the note, tucked into the pocket of his trousers. He re-entered 01, where the ghost girl was still floating in the air. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re still here,¡± he remarked casually to her.


    ¡°I live here!¡± She said, pouting. ¡°You can¡¯t make me leave.¡±


    Cal went back over to his bed, but not before closing the door to the room behind him. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true.¡± He said this partially to himself, and frowned. ¡°Though maybe I could throw salt at you or something, and that would banish you to the afterlife.¡±


    ¡°Ha, as if that would work!¡± The ghost girl tried to project a confident voice, but her face looked a little nervous.


    ¡°I have no intention of leaving this room,¡± Cal informed her. ¡°I got this room and this job fair and square. Besides, I don¡¯t have anywhere else to stay on such short notice.¡±


    He pursed his lips. ¡°Why can¡¯t you just haunt another room, Poltergeist? There¡¯s two empty rooms down the hall.¡±


    ¡°I could ask you the same question! ¡­Hey! Don¡¯t call me that!¡±


    ¡°¡±Because those rooms are for future tenants, and this room is specifically for the occupation of the caretaker.¡± Cal explained this slowly, as if he were talking to a child. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s a lot harder for me to eventually relocate if those rooms get filled than it would be for you. You don¡¯t have any belongings, it seems. Can¡¯t you just float through the walls?¡±


    The ghost girl shook her head, and rubbed a tangle of her untidy black hair next to her ear. ¡°I can, but that¡¯s not the point. I¡¯m attached to this room.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    The wolfish grin returned to the ghost¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, are you sure to know, mortal? Because¡­ this very room is where I died¡­¡± Perhaps, it was simply the setting sun outside, but the light in 01 seemed to dim in that very instant, and a chill began to seep into the air. In the dark, the wolfish smile seemed to turn ominous. ¡°I died here, in pain, in confusion, in suffering. The bed upon which you sit is where I took my last, choking breaths. And when I passed to the other side, when I traversed that thin rivulet of light that led to somewhere unknown, I swore upon my last breaths that I would not vanish from this world until¡­ Wait, what are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Cal looked up. He had been putting the folded shirts he had taken from the suitcase into the wardrobe. ¡°What?¡±


    The eyes of the ghost girl widened in distress. ¡°You¡¯re not paying attention! I¡¯m explaining my tragic backstory! Be at least a little attentive!¡±


    Cal waved his arm dismissively. ¡°I got it, I got it, don¡¯t worry. I mean, I basically figured most of what you said already.¡±


    The ghost folded her arms and pouted again. She turned her back to Cal. ¡°Forget it. You don¡¯t deserve to hear anything.¡±


    Cal continued to go back and forth between the suitcase on the bed and the wardrobe, putting away his folded clothes. ¡°Look,¡± he began, trying to sound diplomatic. ¡°My understanding is that neither of us are particularly keen to give up this room to the other? Correct?¡±


    The ghost quickly shot a glance at him, and then turned her head away again. ¡°Yes, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°So here¡¯s my thinking,¡± Cal said. ¡°What if neither of us leave? We just¡­ cohabitate? An uneasy truce.¡±


    ¡°Cohabitate?¡± The ghost sounded unsure.


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be hard to stay out of each-other¡¯s way,¡± elaborated Cal. ¡°I won¡¯t be in the room for large parts of the day, especially when my university semester starts. So you can go on and do¡­ whatever you do all day. As for the night¡­¡±


    He frowned. ¡°Do you¡­ sleep?¡±


    The ghost girl slowly rotated a full 180-degrees in the air, just so she could look at Cal and scoff. ¡°Do I sleep? Yes, of course! ¡­In a manner of speaking. I float here, in the center of the room, and I sort of¡­ drift away. It¡¯s sort of a hibernation. Ghosts can do that for long periods of time, if they wish.¡±


    ¡°Then, there¡¯s no problem.¡± Cal clapped his hands together. ¡°As long as you promise not to reenact scenes from old horror movies for the sake of a ¡°haunting¡±, and you don¡¯t bother me, and we both agree to be asleep by midnight, I will be willing to let you stay here, rent-free.¡±


    The ghost tilted her head side-to-side, thinking about the proposal. ¡°So you stay out of my way and I stay out of yours?¡±


    ¡°Essentially.¡±


    She scowled again. ¡°I don¡¯t know. You don¡¯t seem like a very nice person.¡±


    Cal raised an eyebrow. ¡°I think I¡¯ve been perfectly reasonable considering before this you were planning to haunt me until I fled in fright.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a ghost¡­¡± she said sulkily, casting her eyes downward at the wooden floor. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to do that sort of stuff.¡±


    ¡°So do we have a deal, Poltergeist?¡±


    ¡°I suppose¡­¡± She grimaced. ¡°As long as you use my real name.¡±


    ¡°I apologize. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    The ghost girl looked at Cal, her blue eyes contemplative, as if she was unsure on how to answer. ¡°Mel. My name is Mel.¡±


    ¡°Mel.¡± Cal tested the name in his mouth. ¡°Let¡¯s try to get along, Mel. I¡¯m Cal.¡±


    She snorted. ¡°That¡¯s a stupid name.¡±


    Off to a great start, thought Cal.


    However, after she said the mocking quip, Mel lowered herself to the floor, until she was standing before Cal ¡ª though not ¡°standing¡± in any true sense, since her toes were floating about half-an-inch above the floor. In this position, though she appeared to be about only a year younger than him in appearance, Cal noticed that she was quite short. The crown of her head and the black hair only came up to his collarbone. She looked up at him, her eyes glinting with mischief, and extended her arm towards him.


    Cal looked at her hand, and then awkwardly reached out to shake it. He gasped. His fingers passed right through her hand, and a chill ran up his arm, as if he had just submerged the tips of his fingers into a cold fog.


    ¡°Gah!¡± he exclaimed.


    Mel laughed and twirled away, levitating a few inches upward as she did, until she floated with her eyes level with Cal. ¡°Haha, you¡¯re so dumb! You can¡¯t shake the hand of a ghost, obviously! Oh gosh¡­¡± She wiped the corners of her eyes, and smiled at Cal, who was staring at her reproachfully. ¡°Don¡¯t be a grump. Our ¡®shake¡¯ is still binding. We stay out of each-other¡¯s way. You focus on your studies and work, and I focus on my haunting. Let¡¯s get along, Cal.¡±


    She said his name like it was an insult.


    Cal rubbed his hand, which was still cold, and felt almost moist. ¡°I specifically requested you give up on the haunting angle. Whatever, okay.¡±


    His disgruntled expression made Mel burst out into a fresh set of giggles, which made her shoulders rise and fall. She smirked at Cal, and then suddenly, her jovial expression was replaced with one of confusion.


    Cal was still rubbing his hand, though the chill he had experienced upon touching Mel¡¯s immaterial body had faded. ¡°What?¡± he said.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± She responded slowly, like she was thinking about every word before saying it aloud. ¡°I was just thinking about how many years have passed since¡­ Nothing.¡±


    Her smile returned, and she grinned with a set of wide white teeth. ¡°I was just thinking about how best to create the best haunting ever.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± muttered Cal, who had returned to putting his clothes into the wardrobe. ¡°I¡¯m not looking forward to it.


    Thus, the cohabitation in room 01 of Otter Manor, between Mel the ghost and Cal the human, had begun.

 Chapter 3: Ellie Seems Pretty Normal For a Cosmonaut

    [September 2, 2042]


    Cal met Ellie, the tenant of room 03, the next morning.


    Cal had gotten up early, before the sun had truly risen, as was his habit. For a moment, he looked at the silver light of early-dusk illuminating the supine form of Mel and the shape of her dress, floating in the middle of room 01. Her mouth was open, and she was snoring away. For around a minute, Cal considered this surreal scene he had woken up to and how his life had led to this. Finally, he sighed, rose from the bed, ducked under Mel¡¯s levitating legs (though he supposed he could have walked straight through them, if he wished) and opened the door to the hallway.


    Cal took his time in the hot shower, washing off the particular soreness that comes from sleeping in a new bed, then hastened downstairs. He began to cook immediately, as also was his habit, taking care to only use foodstuffs from the general-use drawers that Isaac Frost had showed him yesterday, and not ingredients that the tenants may have bought themselves. By 8 in the morning, there was a hot batch of pancakes waiting in a container in the center of the kitchen table, fluffy and delicious-looking.


    Still alone in the kitchen, Cal took some pancakes from the container himself, covered the rest with a lid so they would stay warm, and drizzled on some syrup that he had found in the refrigerator. He chewed the pancakes slowly, listening to the birds outside and watching the sunlight inch across the floor. The emptiness of the large room seemed particularly highlighted by the shadows.


    This is somewhat nostalgic, in its own way, he thought to himself.


    By 8:30, Cal had given up waiting and was ready to put the pancakes in the refrigerator with a note saying that they were free to take for all tenants, but at that moment a girl he had never seen before walked into the kitchen. She was a very pretty girl, with black skin and long dark dreadlocks that were styled to fall over the left side of her head. Cal thought that she was perhaps a year or two older than himself. She was extremely tall and in good shape, like a volleyball player, though it was a little hard to tell, since she was dressed in black full-body fuzzy pajamas, which were decorated with yellow stars, red rocket-ships, and tiny planets.


    When she entered the kitchen, the girl was in the midst of a huge yawn, but when she opened her eyes she froze mid-step, clearly surprised to see someone else in the kitchen. She raised her hand awkwardly in greeting. ¡°Hello, there¡­¡± she said, uncertainly.


    Cal nodded to her. ¡°Hello, there.¡±


    The girl yawned again, unsuccessfully tried to prevent it, and finally compensated by coughing once into the back of her hand. Then, after a moment, her dark eyes lit up. ¡°Oh, I see!¡± She pointed at Cal, though playfully. ¡°You¡¯re the new caretaker. Mr. Frost mentioned that you would be arriving yesterday. It slipped my mind, sorry.¡±


    Cal nodded, relieved that she knew who he was and that the awkward situation had been resolved. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. I arrived here yesterday. I¡¯m Cal.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Ellie, it¡¯s nice to meet you.¡± The girl walked further into the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table, with only one empty chair separating them. Her previous self-consciousness had been completely forgotten. ¡°Sorry, if I seemed surprised, I¡¯m so used to being completely by myself in the mornings, you know? The other girl who lives here doesn¡¯t like to leave her room much. What are those?¡±


    She nodded at the container in the middle of the table, which Cal had covered with a lid.


    ¡°Oh,¡± said Cal. ¡°Pancakes. As part of my job, I¡¯m supposed to cook for you tenants twice a day. Starting today, I¡¯ll be making breakfast at 8 in the morning and dinner at 5 in the evening.¡± He nodded at the container containing the pancakes. ¡°You¡¯re free to help yourself, of course. They might be room-temperature by now.¡±


    ¡°Dude, seriously?! Thanks!¡± Elli practically leapt from her seat, grabbed a plate from the cupboard, and immediately filled up the plate with three pancakes. ¡°I¡¯m kind of broke right now ¡ª you get it, you¡¯re in college too, aren¡¯t you? ¡ª so I¡¯ll take whatever. To be honest, my breakfast has been a slice of toast for like a month now.¡±


    Cal watched, bemused, as she poured half the contents of the syrup bottle onto her pancakes. ¡°So you¡¯re the one in room 03, correct?¡± he asked. ¡°I meant to introduce myself yesterday, but you weren¡¯t in by the time I went to bed.¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± said Ellie through a mouthful of pancakes. She swallowed. ¡°I stay out suuuper late most days.¡±


    She tapped her plate with her fork, as if calling for a toast. ¡°Dude, I love you, these pancakes are delicious! Just the perfect balance between fluffy and firm, buttery but not overpowering. You said you¡¯ll be making breakfast every morning? Count me in, in that case. I¡¯d get up at the crack of dawn for pancakes as good as this.¡±


    ¡°Dude?¡± Who says ¡°dude¡± these days? thought Cal, it¡¯s like something a middle-aged person would say.


    Out loud, he said: ¡°I¡¯m happy to hear someone will be eating my cooking. I invited your neighbor in room 02, but it seems like she wasn¡¯t interested.¡±


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    Ellie picked up a pancake with her fork and inhaled the whole thing whole. ¡°Who, Ram?¡± She wiped some syrup from the corner of her mouth with a napkin.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t take it personally. That girl is the biggest shrinking violet I have ever met in my life. We¡¯ve been in this house for about a month, and I¡¯ve hardly seen her, nevermind say a word to her. If I had to guess, she would have preferred to come and eat, but was too scared.¡±


    Cal frowned. ¡°Scared of what? Just talking?¡±


    Ellie laughed, showing her bright white teeth and large dimples. ¡°Well, you know, that¡¯s part of it but¡­¡± She leaned forward conspiratorially in her seat, and prompted Cal to lean in as well. ¡°I get the impression that the poor girl has barely said a word to a boy that wasn¡¯t her father in her life. She wouldn¡¯t even say a word to Mr. Frost whenever he dropped by. So don¡¯t drop your head.¡±


    Ellie leaned back in her chair again. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, if I happen to see her, I will definitely relate to her the tale of these spectacular pancakes.¡± She took another bite. ¡°I¡¯m being serious man, these are like, restaurant-quality or something. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem¡­¡± murmured Cal.


    He was already distracted by something else. In the frame of a kitchen doorway, a pair of glaring blue eyes had appeared, and a black hair full of disheveled bedhead.


    She doesn¡¯t even sleep in a bed, how is that possible? wondered Cal.


    ¡°Say Ellie,¡± he said, locking his eyes with Mel¡¯s, ¡°do you see something in the door frame, just behind you?¡±


    ¡°Mmm?¡± Ellie, mid-bite, jerked upon being addressed and turned awkwardly, almost dropping a piece of pancake hanging from her mouth onto her pajamas. ¡°Nump. I dun see anfing.¡±


    ¡°I see. Just my imagination then. Unrelated question, but in the time you¡¯ve lived here, have you seen or heard anything unusual? Bumps in the night? Shapes in the mirror?¡±


    Ellie finished chewing, and smiled. ¡°What, like a ghost or something? Are you one of those boys who are really into paranormal videos on the internet? Hey, no judgment, I respect people¡¯s hobbies.¡±


    Cal smiled gently back, if only to keep up appearances. ¡°Nothing like that. I don¡¯t need you to tell me ghosts aren¡¯t real, I was just curious. I heard some odd noises last night.¡±


    ¡°You probably heard Ram then,¡± said Ellie. ¡°As quiet as that girl is, some of the sounds I hear coming from her room¡­ I don¡¯t even know how to describe it. I have no idea what she does there half the time.¡±


    Cal nodded slowly. ¡°I see, so that must have been it.¡±


    He met eyes with Mel once more and raised his eyebrows. The ghost girl stuck out her tongue at him and disappeared around the corner of the door frame.


    The rest of Cal¡¯s conversation with Ellie passed uneventfully. He found he liked talking with her. She was easy-going and had a good sense of humor that wasn''t overbearing. Eventually, after consuming five pancakes in total, Ellie excused herself upstairs to shower and change. The moment she left, Mel drifted into the kitchen, emerging from a wall head-first. ¡°You seemed to be getting along with that girl,¡± she remarked.


    Cal stood up with his chair and began to clear and wash the plates. ¡°Yes, I was. Good rapport between people living in the same building ensures a peaceful and productive coexistence.¡±


    ¡°You were a lot nicer to her than you have been to me,¡± grumbled Mel, ¡°you even woke me up last night because you said I was snoring too much.¡±


    ¡°You were snoring too much,¡± retorted Cal, ¡°who has even heard of a ghost that snores? You don¡¯t even need to breathe! What is up with that?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me! Us ghost girls are very elegant and mysterious!¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Cal rolled his eyes. ¡°Why are you even here? I saw you staring at the pancakes. Why? You can¡¯t eat them, right?¡±


    A blank expression came over Mel¡¯s face. ¡°No, I¡­ don¡¯t think so, unless¡­ Well, I¡¯m still allowed to miss eating food, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    Cal looked at her, and decided not to fire back with a barbed remark. ¡°I suppose,¡± he said, ¡°I guess I would feel the same in your situation.¡±


    There was a short pause where neither of them spoke. Eventually, Mel slowly drifted over to where Cal was washing dishes in the sink, her head hovering around his shoulder. ¡°I saw what you pulled earlier,¡± she remarked, ¡°trying to determine if that girl could see me.¡±


    Cal used the soapy sponge to scrape away some particular stubborn syrup. ¡°And the results were clear. You were telling the truth, about that at least.¡±


    Mel tilted her head, and looked at Cal with wide blue eyes. ¡°Why can you see me?¡± she said, her voice pondering. ¡°It¡¯s so weird. Not even¡­ people I want to see me can.¡±


    She stayed quiet for a little longer, and then smirked. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ve got a hidden terminal disease. They say those who are close to death can see spirits from the other side.¡±


    Cal waved a hand dismissively in her direction. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be dead in a few days from a mysterious illness. Scram, Poltergeist. I need to finish cleaning up here.¡±


    Mel stuck her tongue out at him again, but surprisingly she left him alone, floating up into the ceiling. The last view Cal had of the ghost girl was her pale foot disappearing into the wooden beams that criss-crossed the high ceiling of the kitchen.


    After he was finished cleaning up in the kitchen, Cal retrieved a piece of paper from the drawer in the living room, and wrote on it a simple message before he pushed it underneath the door frame of room 02: Hi Ram, it¡¯s Cal. There are some pancakes from breakfast in the refrigerator, if you want some. They should still be pretty good if you warm them up. You can use the microwave, but they¡¯ll taste better if you use the toaster oven.


    Later that day, after Cal had finished dusting Otter Manor, including the large empty room in the loft, he found his note outside room 02, amended by a few lines with a delicate hand. It said: Hello Cal, it¡¯s Ram. The pancakes were delicious! To be honest, they reminded me of the ones that my father used to make me. I got a little-teary eyed when I first tasted them because they brought me so much nostalgia. Thank you so much for that. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m not brave enough to talk with you in person. I¡¯m only three videos into the seven-video online course. So please be patient. If possible, I want us to be good friends.


    Cal smiled, and took out the pen he had placed in his pocket specifically for this reason. He wrote a response on the paper, and pushed it back underneath the door. As he did, he could swear he could hear a small intake of breath on the other side of the door.


    The message he wrote was only this: Hey Ram, it¡¯s Cal. I¡¯m glad you liked the food I made so much. As far as I¡¯m concerned, that already makes us good friends.

 Chapter 4: Mel Wants To Do a Haunting

    [September 4, 2042]


    When she awoke, the glare of the sun in her eyes, Mel had to take a moment to re-oriente herself. She twisted and turned in the air, pulling down the ends of her white sundress that had drifted up to her knees while she slept. Recently, time had been passing differently for her. She could count the days as they passed. They no longer accelerated and blended together like a viscous syrup. It was almost like being alive again.


    Mel glanced over at the bed, which as always, was empty when she woke up.


    That boy is mean, but he¡¯s certainly fastidious, she thought to herself.


    Cal always got up, showered, and departed the room before she woke up. During the day, he occupied himself with various chores: cleaning the old dusty manor, cooking for that older girl and the one in room 02, pulling the weeds that had accumulated over time over the path that led to the manor. When he returned to room 01, usually in the evenings, he was tired and too irritable to talk with her for very long. As far as ¡°staying out of her way¡±, the terms that he and Mel had agreed upon starting their cohabitation, the boy was certainly holding up his end of his bargain.


    I should be happy about that¡­ but it¡¯s kind of annoying too.


    The principal issue was time. Now that the days had slowed to a crawl, Mel had nothing to occupy her time with. True, she could float through the walls of Otter Manor and watch the two other residents go about their daily lives, but it wasn¡¯t very exciting when the other girls could neither see or talk with Mel. Besides, the girl named Ellie who got along with Cal so well was hardly ever in Otter Manor. Mel had no idea where she spent the majority of her days. Ellie would leave around noon and not come back until after Mel had gone to sleep. The other girl: Ram, was a little more exciting to watch, since sometimes she would exit Otter Manor through the window of her room, however, she mostly just stayed in her room watching videos on the internet, hooked up to those weird machines she kept by her bed.


    In other words, Mel the ghost girl was bored. Thus, today, she had hatched a plan. Today, her true haunting of Cal would begin.


    She recalled their conversation last night in room 01, before going to sleep.


    ¡°What are you doing tomorrow?¡± she had asked, rotating aimlessly in the air, talking more out of listlessness than curiosity.


    Cal had looked at her, as if deciding whether to ignore her. ¡°Shopping, mostly,¡± he replied simply. ¡°The building isn¡¯t stocked enough for the amount of people living here, plus, we¡¯ll have a new tenant in a couple of days. We need amenities for the bathrooms, detergent for that old-fashioned laundry machine, hand towels for the kitchen ¡ª oh, and I want a vacuum. The modern ones won¡¯t be able to digitally sync with a building designed like this, but I can at least get a hand-held one for cheap.¡±


    He grimaced. ¡°I¡¯ll be spending most of my first paycheck before I even receive it.¡±


    Mel was sticking her fingers, one at a time, through the closed doors of Cal¡¯s wardrobe and then withdrawing, getting a mundane amusement from watching them appear and reappear. She had her back to Cal, which made her next words easier to get out.


    ¡°Can I¡­ can I ask you a favor?¡± Her voice sounded small and shy, even to herself.


    She could feel Cal¡¯s piercing dark eyes on her back as he replied: ¡°That would depend on what the favor is. Anything requiring possession is strictly off the table.¡±


    Mel spun around indignantly, the immaterial back-end of her dress and body sinking into Cal¡¯s wardrobe as she moved. ¡°No!¡± she began aggressively, before lowering her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ that is¡­ if you¡¯re going shopping anyway¡­ I was wondering if you could play a DVD player.¡±


    Mel remembered the look of surprise on Cal¡¯s face. ¡°A DVD player?¡± he had asked, shaking his head. ¡°Why on earth would we need such a thing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m bored, okay! I¡¯ve got nothing to do all day¡­ the old DVDs I used to watch when I was small and a USB should be still around here somewhere-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re still pretty small.¡±


    ¡°Shut up. The television downstairs is ¡ª what did you call it? ¡ª retro. That means it can connect to a DVD player. If you get one, I¡¯ll be able to watch those old movies again. I¡¯ll have something to do when you¡¯re out of the house.¡±


    Cal was silent for a bit, before apparently deciding it was a harmless enough request. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll try, but I won¡¯t promise anything. Finding such an old piece of tech won¡¯t be easy. I¡¯m not going to look all over the city if it isn¡¯t in the first vintage tech place I visit.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Mel, raising her big blue eyes to look at Cal, holding her palms to her chest in a way designed to be cute. ¡°Thank you, Cal.¡±


    In the present, Mel grinned sadistically.


    You fool, Cal! You¡¯ve fallen for the charm and craftiness of a malignant spirit ¡ª a classic blunder in the movies!


    Mel didn¡¯t know much about the current outside world, but even she knew that finding a DVD player in this day and age would be extremely difficult and time-consuming. She had bought herself plenty of time to practice her perfect haunting.


    Later that day, Cal returned to Otter Manor, his hands full of shopping bags. First, he stopped by the kitchen and downstairs bathroom, offloading the majority of materials he had bought. Then he returned upstairs, picked up the note that had been left outside room 02, and silently nodded to himself.


    When he re-entered room 01, Cal immediately noticed something was wrong. It was empty, for one thing, something that had never been in the case in the days he had lived here, and there was a strange chill filling the space, like it was filled with water.


    ¡°Mel?¡± Cal called out uncertainty, ¡°are you here?¡±


    ¡°NOTHING,¡± said a deep voice that seemed to sink into Cal¡¯s very bones. It resonated with a terrible evil that seemed to drop the temperature in the room even more. ¡°NOTHING.¡±


    Cal whirled around at something banged behind him. The door of room 01, which he had left open upon entering, had slammed shut. He hesitantly reached out to try the handle, only to find that it wouldn¡¯t turn. Another large slam made him reel around a second time. Cal¡¯s textbook, which he had left upon his writing desk, and been thrown to the ground.


    ¡°NOTHING,¡± said the horrible voice again ¡ª a horrible voice which seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. ¡°NOTHING IS HERE. YOU ARE ALONE. YOU ARE NOTHING.¡±


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    The light disappeared. It was as if the sun outside the window had been extinguished like the flame of a candle. Cal was plunged into darkness, and the most he could see was his own hands. A sense of terrible isolation came over him, and the temperature dropped so much that he felt as if he was standing in the midst of a blizzard.


    ¡°NOTHING EXISTS ANYMORE,¡± said the demonic voice. And then: ¡°RAAAAARGH!¡±


    A mummy appeared out of thin air right in front of Cal, its arms outstretched, wrapped in filthy white bandages ¡ª the wide-open mouth around a sickly path of greenish skin emitting a loud and terrible screech.


    For a moment, Cal didn¡¯t move an inch. It was as if the young man had been frozen in place by fright. Then his wide dark eyes focused on the mummy, and he said: ¡°Five out of ten.¡±


    And he karate-chopped the mummy in the forehead.


    ¡°Ow!!!¡± yelled someone, flinging herself backward in the air, holding her head. ¡°Y-you hit me!¡±


    The moment that Cal had made contact with the mummy, all the illusions had vanished. The light became normal in room 01, with the sun shining outside the window. The temperature returned to a pleasant mildness, and instead of a mummy, a ghost girl in a white sundress was floating in the center of the room, holding her head with both arms, her toes curled in embarrassment, and an expression of shock and indignation on her face.


    ¡°You jerk!¡± Mel exclaimed. ¡°That hurt!¡±


    Cal rolled his eyes and threw the bag he was holding onto his bed. ¡°I think it was more than a fair enough response for such a tepid haunting. Five out of ten. Also, why a mummy? You were clearly building up to a demon with that voice.¡±


    ¡°Shut up¡­¡± Mel said in a sulky voice, still rubbing her forehead with a palm. ¡°It isn¡¯t easy to plan this sort of thing.¡±


    Then she looked at Cal, umbrage entering her voice. ¡°And what¡¯s with you?! How were you not even frightened a little bit?¡± She said this as if Cal had let her down in some way. ¡°Aren¡¯t you scared of anything?¡±


    ¡°Of course I am,¡± retorted Cal, picking up his textbook from the floor. ¡°But things are only truly frightening to me when there is some sort of genuine enmity or hatred present, and I can detect neither things from you. How did you pull this off anyway, Poltergeist?¡±


    Mel was still sulking, and had begun to pat down her messy dark hair as if to regain some sort of dignity. ¡°It¡¯s easy, as long as you spend some time visualizing it and practicing a bit. I¡¯m a ghost, and that means I have spiritual energy. I can use it to psychically move objects, or make people have auditory or physical hallucinations.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± said Cal. He was looking out the window, holding his textbook in his hand. ¡°Is that how you did that thing with the light? Like making it seem as though the sun had gone out and everything was dark?¡±


    Mel nodded, clearly glad he had noticed this part of the haunting. ¡°Yep! That part took a lot of practice-¡±


    ¡°Hey Mel,¡± interrupted Cal. He was still looking out the window, his face obscured from Mel. ¡°That thing with the light¡­ never do it again.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Mel stopped moving in mid-air, looking over at him.


    Cal turned to face her, his profile illuminated by the sun. His voice was utterly cold. ¡°I¡¯m serious. Don¡¯t do it again, okay?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­¡± Mel¡¯s heart sank and her lips felt dry. She felt as if she had crossed a terrible line that she hadn¡¯t intended to. ¡°Okay¡­ I won¡¯t.¡±


    Cal pointed at the bag on the bed. ¡°I got your DVD player. I had to go to like three different places to find it, but it should work. That¡¯s the only reason I came in here. I¡¯ll set it up for you later.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Thank you.¡±


    There was a horrible silence. Cal didn¡¯t so much as look at Mel again. He returned the textbook to its place on the desk and sat on the bed. He was checking something on his cellphone. Every second that passed seemed excruciating to Mel. Tapped into the spiritual side of the world, able to view the auras and energy that surrounded people, Mel was extremely aware of the hostility toward her that was coming off of Cal. Typically, through Mel¡¯s eyes, Cal¡¯s aura and energy were always completely neutral, almost undetectable ¡ª which was very unusual for a living human. Now, it was strong enough that it felt like she was being pushed out of the room. It was a suffocating feeling, and genuine concern arose within her. She had intended for her ¡°haunting¡± to be a fun prank, a way to get back at Cal for all the times he had made fun of her. She hadn¡¯t wanted this ¡ª this distance.


    ¡°Um,¡± Mel approached Cal very slowly as she talked, taking care not to float too close to him. ¡°Are¡­ you angry with me?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± was the short, flat response.


    Mel dared to drift a little closer. She reached out to tug on his sleeve, but immediately remembered that it would be a pointless thing to attempt, and withdrew her pale hand. The boy and the ghost girl could see and hear one another, but physical contact was completely impossible. For the first time, that realization made Mel a little sad.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°I just wanted to scare you a bit. I didn¡¯t intend to upset you.¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t reply.


    For a desperate second, Mel thought that Cal had lost his ability to see or hear her, and horrible fear instantaneously filled her body. She felt like bursting into tears.


    No! See me! Hear me! I can¡¯t be like that again. An absence in the air. A voice nobody can hear. Less than nothing. I was fine when it was my fate to never have anything. But I can¡¯t handle losing something ever again¡­


    ¡°Cal!¡± Mel exclaimed, her throat choked. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, okay?! Don¡¯t ignore me, please!¡±


    The change in Mel¡¯s voice made Cal look up, and something in the ghost¡¯s face made him instantly attempt to comfort her. ¡°Hey,¡± he said, in a voice more gentle than he had ever used with Mel before, ¡°it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m not angry and I¡¯m not ignoring you, okay? I was just¡­ frustrated. You made me remember things I didn¡¯t want to. But it¡¯s over now.¡±


    Mel bit her lip, and self-consciously held her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do. I was bored.¡±


    ¡°Seriously, stop apologizing.¡± Cal sighed. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I suppose I don¡¯t understand why you bothered. With this ¡®haunting¡¯ thing. Didn¡¯t I tell you the day we met? A truce, where both of us are free to do what we want as long as it doesn¡¯t inconvenience the other. That''s the solution we agreed upon.¡±


    Mel timidly interlocked her fingers. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ it¡¯s just¡­¡± She looked at Cal with an intense expression. ¡°I¡¯m a ghost, you know?!¡±


    Cal narrowed his eyes. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m aware.¡±


    ¡°And¡­ it¡¯s just¡­¡± Mel seemed to be squirming inwardly. ¡°If I don¡¯t do scary things and stupid things, like moving objects with my mind and making people jump when I say ¡®Boo!¡¯... I mean¡­ it¡¯s like¡­ if I don¡¯t do any of that sort of stuff, what exactly am I supposed to do? I can¡¯t touch anything with my body. You¡¯re the only one who can see me. Like, what¡¯s the point of a ghost like me? ¡­I suppose.¡±


    There was another long pause, but when Mel looked up at Cal, she was surprised at his expression. It was an extremely earnest expression, and so fixated on her that Mel began to feel a little embarrassed. It was as if Cal was looking at her, really looking at her, for the first time.


    ¡°I can¡¯t answer that for you¡­¡± Cal began, a little falteringly, ¡°but I guess in my opinion¡­ things and people¡­ and ghosts¡­ none of these things need to have a real reason to exist. So, if you ask me, you¡¯re fine the way you are ¡ª passing the time, day by day. It¡¯s not something to be ashamed of.¡±


    Mel spoke quietly. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what I think.¡±


    Her next words were even quieter, almost tender. ¡°Thank you for getting the DVD player, Cal. I mean it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem.¡±


    She smiled at him. ¡°If you want, we can watch a movie together, seeing as you¡¯ve seen none of the good ones.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Not tonight, or tomorrow, ¡®cause I have some chores, but okay.¡±


    Another pause. Cal looked at Mel and spoke: ¡°However, if you want, I have a suggestion to fill your time for the present.¡±


    Mel smirked and leaned her face toward Cal, her blue eyes gleaming with mischief and irony. ¡°Oh, and what¡¯s that?


    The side of Cal¡¯s mouth twisted, almost as if he was trying to hold in a grin. ¡°Meeting the neighbor, of course.¡±


    A few minutes later, the pair were in front of the door to room 02. Cal made a face at Mel, and knocked twice on the wood.

 Chapter 5: Ram Is (Definitely) Not a Robot

    [September 4, 2024]


    The first thing Cal felt when he opened the door was a wave of heat, so thick and sudden that thin beads of sweat appeared on the back of his neck, and he immediately felt like removing his dark coat. There was also a peculiar smell in the air: burnt dust, mixed with faint artificial polymers, like inhaling the faint scent of epoxy. Cal turned his head and immediately detected the source of this odd olfactory combination.


    In the place where he had his desk and wardrobe in room 01, was instead an enormous computer like nothing Cal had ever seen in his life. It was a thick black rectangle that took up the greater part of the wall and nearly a quarter of the room, with large wires of all colors sprouting from its back and sides. The wires were numerous and tangled ¡ª  all over the floor in such tightness and quantity that Cal quickly realized it would be pointless to try and avoid stepping on them as he ventured further into the room. On the front end of the rectangle, which faced the bed (the space between the computer and the bed being small enough to be described as a ¡°corridor¡±) there were several screens, or perhaps separate monitors, all paper-thin and holographic like the sort that modern computers would have. There were also several other strange technological machines in the room that Cal had never seen before, themselves hooked up with wires, which made the already cramped and hot room even more difficult to navigate without tripping over a cord or knocking something over.


    ¡°Told you it would be weird.¡± Mel whispered in Cal¡¯s ear. She was hovering slightly above him, stretched out horizontally in the air. ¡°And she¡¯s even weirder. You¡¯ll miss having conversations with this gentle and bewitching spirit before too long.¡±


    Cal peered deeper into the room, trying to discern details. The blinds were shut tight, so the only light in the room was the neon and blue luminescence coming off of the computer screen. It took him a moment to discern that there was actually a person huddled among the wires. But there was something odd¡­


    ¡°Um, Ram,¡± Cal said, a little uncertain, ¡°you can take the blanket off your head. It¡¯s Cal.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­¡± squeaked the blanket. ¡°Um¡­ I¡¯m a little scared.¡±


    ¡°You invited me in.¡± Cal reminded her. ¡°You said you wanted to talk face to face, since you completed your course. But we can¡¯t talk face to face like this.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­¡± the blanket said again. ¡°But when you knocked, I suddenly wondered if you would think I¡¯m ugly, so I sought shelter.¡±


    ¡°Under the blanket.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Ram,¡± Cal said, trying to keep a slight tinge of annoyance from his voice. ¡°I¡¯m going to lift the blanket off of your head now. Is that okay with you?¡±


    The blanket nodded.


    Carefully stepping over wires and discarded pieces of electronics, Cal reached the center of the room and gently pulled the blanket off the head of the person he had been speaking to.


    Poofy, was his first thought, like a sheep.


    Cal¡¯s first impression was this: Ram¡¯s hair went everywhere. It was a thick mass of blond curls that sprouted upward and away from her skull; hair so big that it seemed far larger and solid than her head. This was a fact made even more distinguishable by the smallness of Ram¡¯s body. She was short like Mel, but with a completely different body-type: large-chested with a wide torso, almost stocky in physique. Because of the heat of the room, she was wearing only a tank-top and a pair of pajama pants. Her eyes were deep brown, like wet earth, and despite Ram¡¯s timidity, there was a strange strength in them Cal couldn¡¯t quite discern.


    ¡°As I thought,¡± said Cal, ¡°you let your anxiety get the better of you. It doesn¡¯t make a difference, but you¡¯re the opposite of ugly.¡±


    Ram blushed a deep shade of red, and briefly covered her mouth with the discarded blanket. Mel rolled her eyes and exclaimed ¡°ugh!¡± with disgust, leaning into Cal¡¯s ear.


    ¡°I wasn''t expecting this set-up,¡± said Cal, gesturing at the room, ¡°but it¡¯s really impressive. Are you a computer science major?¡±


    Ramed nodded shyly. ¡°I-in a m-matter of speaking,¡± she stuttered quietly, ¡°but this computer here is a gift from my dad. H-he makes and invents stuff.¡±


    Cal nodded interestedly, ignoring Mel, who was repeating ¡°the opposite of ugly¡± to herself in a mocking tone.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to finally meet you in-person,¡± said Cal to Ram, ¡°as fun as communicating through notes was, it¡¯s much easier to get to know someone by having a conversation like this.¡±


    ¡°What notes?¡± Mel¡¯s suddenly hostile voice came from above.


    Ram nodded, uncovering the blanket from her mouth. ¡°Y-yes. It¡¯s nice to meet you, too.¡± Then more quietly. ¡°I saw you before¡­ from out the window on the lawn. And in the hallways¡­ though I hid.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see. From now on, if you see me in the hallways, feel free to say hello.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Ram bit her lip nervously. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that I haven¡¯t come down to have breakfast. I would, because your food is delicious. Really, if it was just you¡­ but since Ellie is there, too¡­¡± Ram then realized what she said, and stuck out her palms in front of herself, as if defending from an upcoming attack. ¡°¡±Oh! Not that Ellie isn¡¯t nice¡­ she is, just¡­¡±


    ¡°Energetic?¡± Cal offered.


    Ram¡¯s eyes flickered to the screen¡¯s of the enormous computer, then back again to the ground. ¡°Y-yes. I don¡¯t mean to imply that¡¯s a bad thing¡­ but it¡¯s hard for me to be comfortable around those sorts of people.¡±


    ¡°Are you uncomfortable now?¡± asked Cal.


    Ram shook her head, and her enormous blond curls waved in the air. ¡°No. I also got this impression from reading your notes, but you¡¯re sort of¡­¡± She thought carefully about her next word. ¡°Mellow. I like mellow people. They can be silent and not talk for a while, and they don¡¯t make you feel under pressure.¡±


    Cal crouched down onto the ground next to where Ram sat on the floor, so that he wouldn¡¯t have to continue standing over her. ¡°I didn¡¯t get to speak to a lot of people growing up, so I guess that¡¯s in my nature. Sometimes days would pass between me speaking aloud. So yeah, I don¡¯t mind the quiet.¡±


    Ram smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad. You¡¯re a nice person.¡± Then the smile faded. ¡° I¡¯m sorry that it¡¯s a little cramped. I hope it doesn¡¯t smell. I took a shower.¡±


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s a little cramped and hot,¡± admitted Cal, ¡°and I can smell perspiration, but I suppose it¡¯s hard for the air not to be a little stuffy when you¡¯ve got such a large computer emitting so much heat. And I¡¯m certainly not claustrophobic. I suppose you could open a window, if you want.¡±


    Ram blushed again, but before she could answer, a woman¡¯s voice said: ¡°Your battery is low, Ram. Please connect to your charging port.¡±


    Ram squeaked, and covered the back of her neck with her hands.


    Cal looked around sharply. ¡°What was that? Was that your computer?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Ram said, much more loudly than she had been speaking before. ¡°It was my computer! Yes! I could have sworn I charged my computer. Um¡­ in order to charge my computer, um¡­ could you leave? Not that I don¡¯t want to keep talking to you, but could you leave¡­ So can I charge my computer?¡±


    Cal narrowed his eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t mind, but why do I need to leave so you can charge your computer?¡± He looked at the huge black rectangle, whose thick wires were definitely plugged into the room¡¯s outlets through a complex network of adapters, and then back at Ram. ¡°Um, Ram¡­ there¡¯s a red light flashing on your forehead.¡±


    ¡°Aah!¡± Ram flailed her arms in panic trying to cover the back of her neck and the small red light that had begun to pulse underneath her forehead at the same time. ¡°Don¡¯t look! I like to take my clothes off when I charge my computer! So you can¡¯t be here!¡±


    ¡°Your battery is low, Ram. Please connect to your charging port.¡± The woman¡¯s voice repeated. ¡°Seriously, stop messing around. I can see the port underneath your bed sheets.¡±


    Cal looked at the large cylindrical shape covered by bed sheets that stood in the corner of the room, and then looked back to Ram. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t mind.¡± he said, and handed her a piece of paper from his pocket. ¡°That¡¯s my number. Add me on FoxChat. It¡¯ll be easier than writing notes back and forth.¡±


    ¡°Yes! Yes!¡± Ram was holding her palms out in front of herself again, looking from side-to-side as if looking for something as she spoke in an alarmed tone of voice. ¡°We¡¯ll talk! Talk lots! But right now, please leave!¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay.¡± Cal got to his feet. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later.¡±


    ¡°Yes! See you, goodbye!¡±


    ¡°Your battery is low, Ram. I swear to god-¡±


    Cal closed the door behind himself. In the hallway, it was cool and much quieter. He didn¡¯t move for a moment. He stared at the wall, and then, with a resigned sigh, glanced over to his left to look at the ghost girl who had just emerged from the wall that divided the hallway from room 02. She had an exceedingly smug expression on her face.


    ¡°So?¡± Mel said, annoyingly. ¡°Huh? Hmm? What did I say earlier?¡±


    Cal walked back to room 01. ¡°It¡¯s funny, I can¡¯t recall at the moment.¡±


    ¡°I said the girl¡¯s next door is a robot, and you said ¡ª like an idiot ¡ª that robots aren¡¯t like that. Maybe next time you should believe in the invisible ghost who can go through walls.¡±


    Cal looked at Mel, who was now grinning and self-satisfyingly pushing her dark hair back, and remembered how genuine and apologetic she had seemed about her ¡°haunting¡± only a short time ago.


    ¡°And I stand by what I said,¡± Cal remarked, sitting back down on his bed and watching Mel glide arrogantly back and forth in front of him. ¡°Robots are like the waiters at restaurants or the street cleaners. They are not built to resemble real humans and they certainly aren¡¯t that life-like. You¡¯re talking about something completely beyond our current level of technology.¡±


    Mel puffed out her cheeks in frustration. ¡°Why can you so readily accept ghosts are real but suddenly when there¡¯s a robot talking to you, you shut your eyes and ears? That girl has lived in this building for a month, and I¡¯ve seen plenty of robot stuff. I¡¯ve seen her plug herself into that weird cylinder and detach her limbs to clean them. She has a disk tray in her forehead!¡±


    Cal rolled his eyes. ¡°Nothing I saw today proves to me that Ram is a robot. Sure, she¡¯s obviously hiding something, but it doesn¡¯t mean what you¡¯re telling me. Again, the smartest scientists in the world couldn¡¯t build a robot like that. Didn¡¯t you smell the perspiration in there? You¡¯re saying someone made a robot that sweats?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just being difficult because you like her better than me.¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t agree with that!¡±


    Cal lay down on his back, swinging his feet around off the end of the bed so the dust on his shoes wouldn¡¯t touch the sheets. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking.


    Besides, he thought to himself, what are the chances that there would be a ghost haunting my room and an impossibly life-accurate robot in the same building? In rooms directly next to one another? It would be silly. There¡¯s some other explanation.


    Cal looked at Mel. She seemed tired of trying to convince him about the robot next-door, and instead was floating in the middle of the room, reclining in the air. Mel¡¯s arms were behind her head, and she was whistling a tune he didn¡¯t recognize. Her white sundress was moving as if being stirred by a wind, though the window of room 01 was shut.


    But remember, impossibilities are practically inevitabilities for someone like you, he remembered. In the end, it doesn¡¯t matter. No matter what happens in the future, nothing can disturb your normal life. Make sure of it.

 Chapter 6: Mel Is Outside

    [September 5, 2042]


    ¡°Cal, I¡¯m bored.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a ¡®you¡¯ problem, Poltergeist. Go haunt the laundry room if you¡¯re bored here.¡±


    It was night. Cal had just finished cleaning up after dinner (chicken burritos that Ellie had proclaimed as ¡°delectable¡±) and he was back in room 01, decompressing, lying on his back on the bed. He had received a call from Isaac Frost an hour ago, informing that the newest tenant of Otter Manor would be arriving tomorrow afternoon. They would be taking up the large room in the loft. That meant another person to potentially cook for, and clean up after. He wondered if he would be able to manage if room 03 and 04 were eventually filled by new tenants.


    Meanwhile, Mel was floating up and down the length of the room, occasionally glancing out the window at the dark night sky. If she could walk upon the floorboards, she would have been pacing. It wasn¡¯t just boredom that energized her movements. There was a certain anxious energy present, most clear in how Mel looked at the window and licked her lips. Finally whatever was bothering her could not be kept contained.


    ¡°Hey Cal,¡± she said, ¡°can I ask a favor?¡±


    Cal did not look up. He has his arm over his eyes. He was tired, and ready to go to sleep early. ¡°I told you,¡± he said, ¡°possession is not in the cards. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s the only way for you to taste the food.¡±


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t that.¡±


    At Mel¡¯s understated response, Cal shifted his arm and looked at her, though he still did not move from his place on the bed. ¡°What then?¡±


    Mel brushed a bit of her dark hair over her ear, and didn¡¯t respond. She seemed unsure.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Sensing there was something unusual in Mel¡¯s mannerisms, Cal rolled onto his side and sat upright on the bed. ¡°You¡¯re acting a little weird.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Mel swallowed. ¡°I want to go outside.¡±


    Cal leaned his head forward an inch, unsure of how to respond. ¡°...Okay?¡± When she didn¡¯t budge to his prompting, he continued to speak. ¡°Is that¡­ I mean, can you not? I suppose I assumed you can go anywhere you like but¡­ are you bound to Otter Manor or something? Can you not leave the premises?¡±


    Mel shook her head, and played with the shoulder-strap of her white dress. ¡°No. At least, I don¡¯t think so. I¡¯m just scared.¡±


    Cal started to say something perhaps a little unkind, but stopped himself. He had realized that this was a different sort of conversation than the barbed exchanges he had had with Mel up until this point. She was trying to ask for his help in some way, and mocking or making light of that request would be a terrible thing to do.


    ¡°Okay, so you¡¯re scared.¡± Cal tried to prompt her again. ¡°What are you scared of precisely?¡±


    With frustration, Mel held hands up, and then floated silently over to the window, the tips of her toes barely an inch above the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m just anxious, like it¡¯ll be painful somehow. Here.¡± She poked her chest. ¡°I told you time is a little different for me as a ghost?¡±


    ¡°I think you mentioned it once or twice.¡±


    ¡°Things are a little more oriented now, but when I first woke up as a ghost, it was crazy. Years passed without me even realizing it was happening. I don¡¯t know how long I spent like that before Isaac came back a month ago. It was only then when the days began to become clear to me. What I¡¯m trying to say is¡­¡±


    Mel paused, clenching and unclenching a small fist. ¡°I¡¯ve been dead a long time, but I¡¯ve never left this building. Until very recently, it never even occurred to me.¡± She turned her blue eyes on Cal. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to talk about this but¡­ when I was alive¡­ I didn¡¯t get to go to many places. The years before I died, I was mostly just in one room. Sometimes for a very long time. I got comfortable there. I guess at some point, I started to fear going outside at all. Like a phobia. I suppose I still feel that way.¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t say anything for a moment, then he stood up. ¡°Okay then,¡± he announced to the room, ¡°we¡¯re going to go outside. Right now. Are you up for it?¡±


    Mel was surprised by his words and by the intensity in Cal¡¯s dark eyes, but she stammered: ¡°Y-yes. I think so. I think I can.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Without another word, Cal went downstairs, and Mel followed behind him, somewhat bashfully. When they reached the front door, Cal flung it open, and immediately a gust of wind stirred his hair and his dark coat that he had grabbed as he exited room 01. It was a cold wind, and outside was the dark lawn of Otter Manor, and above it, the faintly twinkling vault of stars. To Mel, the open door looked like both an inviting hand and a hungry mouth.


    The pair stood in front of the open door, the boy and ghost side-by-side, watching the night outside. Then Cal turned to Mel. ¡°Are you anxious? You¡¯re not going to have a panic attack?¡±


    Mel gulped, her eyes fixated on the dark air outside, which was barely illuminated by the light creeping out of Otter Manor. ¡°No. My heart is racing really fast, but I¡¯m okay.¡±


    ¡°We can just stand in front of the door for now. Get used to the sounds and the proximity.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    They stood in silence for a number of minutes, until Cal spoke aloud. ¡°You told me something about your past that you would rather not mention because you wanted to be honest, so I¡¯ll return the favor.¡± Cal¡¯s dark eyes seemed to turn black in that moment, lost in themselves. He tightly gripped the blue scarf that he was holding in his right hand. ¡°What you said about becoming terrified of the outside. Of the idea of it. I knew exactly what you meant.¡±


    The knuckles that held his scarf turned white, and Cal had to force himself to loosen his grip. ¡°Almost my entire life has been a dark room, where nothing existed. No space, or time, or other people. So when I got a glimpse of the outside world, it terrified me. A person helped me at that time: my sister¡­ and someone else, I suppose. They helped me realize the reality.¡±


    Mel watched the night. One of her hands was slightly in front of the other, as if she was trying to touch the darkness. ¡°What was the reality?¡± she asked.


    ¡°There is no such thing as ¡®inside¡¯ or ¡®outside,¡¯¡± replied Cal, and tapped his head. ¡°There¡¯s only the arbitrary walls you¡¯ve built within your skull in order to feel safe. The reality is that nowhere is safe, and nowhere is terrifying. Ready?¡±


    Mel nodded.


    ¡°Want to do it at a count of three, or just get it over with in one go?¡±


    ¡°One go, if you don¡¯t mind. I can¡¯t deal with so much anticipation.¡±


    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go outside.¡±


    They went over the threshold, past the roof of the portico, and onto the slightly damp expanse of grass. It was dark outside, but the moon was bright, and draped the blades of the lawn in silver accents. Cal stood beside Mel, wrapping his coat around him, and breathing on his hands. ¡°It¡¯s chilly,¡± he said simply, ¡°but it¡¯s a lovely night.¡±


    Mel took a sharp intake of air, and began to breathe a little raggedly. She held a hand over her mouth, trying to calm down.


    Cal looked sharply at her, his expression horrified, wondering if he had made a mistake. ¡°Is it too much?! We can turn around.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± exclaimed Mel, waving her free hand in front of (and partially through) Cal¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m okay! It¡¯s just¡­¡±


    She bent her head downward for a moment, hiding her face, and then looked up at the shining sky of stars. ¡°I''m outside¡­ I really am. I thought I would never get to be under the sky like this again. I thought I would just be in the earth, for eternity. I thought¡­¡±


    Then she laughed, and twirled high up into the hair. The moon shone through Mel¡¯s body, making her shine with silver. Cal watched, seemingly befuddled by her sudden change in temperament.


    Mel danced in front of the moon, doing twists, spins, and loopty-loops in the air. She went up so high in the night sky that Cal lost sight of her. However, he could hear her laughing even when she was out of view. Then she zipped by to earth before his face, quick as a flash of light, She grinned at him, hands behind her back, leaning forward, a few inches away from Cal¡¯s nose.


    ¡°Thanks Cal,¡± she said warmly, her eyes tender and playful.


    Cal was stunned for a moment, then hid his mouth in the collar of his coat. ¡°I didn¡¯t really do anything. Don¡¯t get lost up there in the sky, okay? I was worried you had left to haunt some other place.¡±


    Her grin grew wider. ¡°You were worried? Yes, of course you were worried. You were afraid you were going to lose your adorable roommate. You were worried we¡¯d never see one another again.¡±


    ¡°I instantly take back what I said.¡±


    ¡°No take-backs!¡±


    Mel jutted her finger at Cal. The tip of her finger actually sank into his nose, and Cal was surprised that the feeling wasn¡¯t cold and unpleasant as it had been a few days ago. Rather, now it felt like something warm and glowing.


    ¡°No take-backs.¡± Mel repeated, holding her finger in place. Her smile took on a slightly more determined appearance. ¡°Not about this, not ever. We¡¯re stuck together. I¡¯ve decided this just now ¡ª made an executive decision. My perfect haunting has only just begun.¡±


    Mel flew back up into the stars, leaving only a whistle of wind behind.


    A perfect haunting, huh? thought Cal. He touched the tip of his nose, remembering the warm sensation Mel had left. Where does she pick up all these ridiculous ideas?


    He smiled to himself, then abruptly the expression of happiness faded. On the ground, barely visible on the grass dyed by silver moonlight, his shadow moved on its own.


    It was very chilly now. Cal hugged himself with his coat tighter, and watched the distance speck hovering in front of the moon ¡ª Mel, of course. If she went much higher she might have reached heaven.


    ¡°Congrats,¡± Cal said aloud to the night, ¡°you¡¯re finally outside.¡±

 Interlude 1: The Girl and Scary Movies

    [May 4th, 2017]


    The girl liked to watch scary movies. Slasher-flicks, gore, movies with vampires, movies with zombies, movies with demonic possession, movies with aliens, giant spiders, werewolves, or homicidal leprechauns ¡ª as long as it was a scary movie, no matter its quality or premise, the girl loved it. She loved the tropes, the costumes, the bad CGI, the hammy acting and the gratuitous sex-scenes that abrasively interrupted the pace of the narrative. She watched scary movies in her bed, on her phone in the wheelchair, sometimes when she was strong enough, with her family on the living room couch. No matter the circumstance, her eyes would be glued to the screen with a wolfish smile upon her lips.


    ¡°Hey, why do you like these corny things so much?¡±


    The girl''s younger brother asked her this question one evening many years ago, as he hit play on the third consecutive B-movie starring evil witches the pair were watching this evening. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re smart. You know they are mostly cheesy and bad. So what¡¯s up? Because you watch so many of these sorts of movies.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± the girl said. ¡°I¡¯m just happy when I watch them.¡±


    The girl¡¯s brother shrugged, leaned back on the couch, ready to experience The Bald Witches of Blood Alley: Resurrection in glorious HD.


    The girl loved all scary movies, but there was one genre that she adored the most: movies with ghosts. Ghosts ¡ª mysterious, incorporeal, and graceful. They could go through walls, and whisper vague and threatening warnings into the ears of the living. They could move objects with their mind, and change their own appearance to suit how they felt on the inside. They were like superheroes, and the girl idolized them. She owned a night lamp with a design of a cartoon spirit. Once she intended to go as a ghost for Halloween, at least until she collapsed on the doorstep, scattering plastic prayer beads across the asphalt. Most importantly to the girl, ghosts could live forever, at least until some exorcist came along with a pocket full of salt and a talisman engraved with runes.


    The girl would not live forever. The girl was dying. She had been dying her whole life. And now, she began to die very fast.


    First, when she was very young, there was a murmur in the heart that bothered the doctors and a spreading coldness at the ends of her toes. This began a slow and fatal process, of her body slowly freezing and stopping its natural processes. Over the years, the girl began to lose control of her legs. Next, her arms began to lose strength. The muscles around her neck tightened, and then she could no longer go to the bathroom on her own. Only her bright blue eyes remained active and her own, the pupil and iris free to move atop the circular tissue.


    With these eyes, she liked to watch scary movies.


    They made her heart race, and her blood alight with passion. When a ghoul jumped out from behind a gravestone, or a masked killer appeared behind the drunk college student, there was a certain rush through her body that she couldn¡¯t quite describe. When she became a motionless thing lying upon a bed, the girl imagined this rush was what it would feel like to move about on her own again. Thus, watching scary movies was like a prayer to God for the girl. She did not pray for life. She only prayed to at least experience a flawed simulacrum, and she did so every night.


    Near the end, the girl¡¯s father cried. Crying was practically all he did. He was an important man, and a wealthy one. But the girl never thought of him that way. Her last memory of him was him standing in the frame of a doorway, wet tears of his face, with an expression as if there was no longer anything tender or beautiful in the wide world.


    Near the end, the girl¡¯s mother got angry. She yelled at doctors. She yelled at the girl¡¯s father and her brother. She yelled at herself, sometimes, in the mirror. She threw things, and they shattered windows or broke against walls. The girl¡¯s last memory of her was her face, red like a pomegranate, but not because she was angry. Like her husband, she had been crying.


    Near the end, the girl¡¯s brother peeled apples. He sat by her bed, peeling the fruit carefully with a pocket-knife. Sometimes he offered a slice to the girl, or ate it himself ¡ª but often the apple slices would end up in the trash or in the refrigerator. He didn¡¯t seem to know what else to do. Occasionally, he held her hand. That was her last memory of him ¡ª the feeling of his warm palm on her, squeezing gently.


    Near the end, the girl wrote this in her diary: ¡°I didn¡¯t like the idea of heaven, since my family wouldn¡¯t be there. But I was watching a movie the other day and it hit me, the obvious solution! If I was a ghost, then I could be with my family, even after I was dead. Then, when the time is right, we can go to heaven at the same time, all together. ¡­I don¡¯t know, maybe that¡¯s overly optimistic. Maybe I won¡¯t get to heaven in the first place. If I think about it, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve done anything truly good for anyone else. All I¡¯ve done is stayed alive ¡ª and I didn¡¯t even manage to do that for very long. I guess I¡¯m pretty pathetic.¡±


    The girl died in the first days of May. Her body sank below the dark earth, but her soul stayed still. It filled with darkness, and then filled with light. Sometimes, the girl thought she heard a voice saying her name softly, as if in comfort. Once, when she opened her eyes, she saw that she appeared to be falling down a thin rivulet of glowing air, and every atom was sparkling.


    She fell for days, years, eternities.


    Oh God, she thought as she fell, oh my dear, dear God. All of my life I have done naught but inflict pain to myself and grief to those who loved me. Let me now become less than nothing, if I am destined to never become anything else, and scatter what remains outward into the universe. Make from the absence a joy that perseveres.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The next time the girl opened her eyes, she was floating in the middle of a room. It was a golden autumn day with a steady breeze. Dust lazily floated in the vibrant sunbeam that entered through the window. There was no more life and more death.


    It was not heaven, for heaven was surely an empty movie theater.


    Oh, the girl thought.


    ¡­I¡¯ve seen this premise in a film before.


    [September 5, 2042]


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I agreed to this. I¡¯m supposed to be going to sleep around now.¡±


    ¡°Put the disk in! Put it in there! You never press the button!¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, relax, this thing is like 35 years old, okay?¡±


    Cal finally navigated the disk into the DVD player, and the movie¡¯s title and menu popped up on the old television. He hit PLAY clumsily with the remote he had found. It had taken him a good half-hour to find the DVDs in the closet under the stairs and to figure out how to install the DVD player properly, a task not made easier by Mel yelling at him over his shoulder, despite not knowing how to do it properly herself.


    Now that the movie was playing however, Mel was quiet. She floated above a cushion of Otter Manor¡¯s living room couch, as if she was about to sit down. In fact, the lower part of her body actually went into the couch and disappeared.


    ¡°Killer Clowns In Miami 4,¡± Cal read the title skeptically from the DVD case, which Mel had personally selected. He sat down next to the ghost girl and glanced at her, bemused despite himself at her childish excitement. ¡°Do I not need to watch the previous three movies to understand this one?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Shhh, no of course not! I¡¯ll give you a run-down of the premise.¡±


    ¡°I mean, I think I figured it out from the title.¡±


    Ellie, who had come home early that day, popped her head into the room. Her hair was wet from the shower. ¡°Yo, Cal. Watcha doing?¡±


    ¡°Watching a scary movie. You interested?¡±


    Ellie grinned. ¡°Dude, I haven¡¯t watched a movie in forever. I¡¯m game.¡± She plopped down next to Cal, on the opposite side to where Mel hovered. Her eyes focused on the DVD player and she laughed. ¡°What?! Ha! Where did you find that thing? It¡¯s like three thousand years old.¡±


    ¡°In the closet under the stairs,¡± Cal fibbed, ¡°it was on top of a bunch of old DVDs. That¡¯s where I got this movie.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Ram!¡± Elli called into the hallway, swinging her body over the back of the couch to face away from the television. ¡°You¡¯re there, right?¡±


    ¡°...Y-yes¡­¡± came a terrified voice.


    ¡°Do you want to watch¡­¡± Elli turned her head, and read the title card that had now appeared on the screen after the opening credits. ¡°Do you want to watch Killer Clowns in Miami 4?¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± said the voice, sounding like it was only agreeing in order to avoid the social confrontation that would come from saying no. ¡°But¡­ I¡¯ll watch it here. From the hallway.¡±


    Ram¡¯s enormous curly hair appeared around the wooden corner of the room. She seemed intent on watching the movie from a safe distance.


    ¡°Do I not need to watch the other movies in the Killer Clown franchise?¡± asked Ellie.


    ¡°Eh,¡± said Cal, ¡°I think you¡¯ll figure out the basics pretty quick.¡±


    The movie was terrible. Cal had only seen a handful of movies in his whole life, but even he could tell the objectively horrible quality of the film. The actors were stilted. The effects lame. It was more boring than scary. The killer clowns didn¡¯t even show up until twenty-five minutes into the movie, and once they did, they mostly just honked their noses and stabbed scantily-clad women.


    Yet, as the film progressed, and Ellie fell asleep next to him, Cal found himself watching the film less and the ghost girl next to him more. Mel seemed to be expanding and solidifying as the film progressed, gaining shape, texture, color ¡ª as if if he reached out, he could touch her thin arm.


    Mel¡¯s blue eyes were wide, reflecting the chroma of the television, which was the only light in the room after Cal remembered to turn off the lights in the living room and hallway. Mel¡¯s short black hair was swallowed by the darkness of the room, which only served to illuminate her pale face. Her mouth was open slightly. The movie was terrible, but she looked happy. The only time that expression changed was at a particularly tense part of the movie (the main character was hiding from a killer clown in a laundromat), when she made a motion as if she tried to grip Cal¡¯s sleeve, and then seemed to remember it was a pointless motion.


    The movie, which Cal thought had dragged horrendously for the first forty-five minutes, was suddenly over. He wasn¡¯t sure where the time disappeared to.


    As the credits played, Mel continued watching the film, and so Cal didn¡¯t move to switch it off or turn on the lights. Then, once the last lines of names vanished from the screen, she looked over at Cal, and smiled.


    ¡°Next, we can watch the rest of the ¡°Killer Clown¡± movies,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ll go in reverse chronological order, the way the creators intended.¡±


    Cal face dropped. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding.¡±


    ¡°Nope!¡± Mel rested her cheek on her hand, tilting her head to the side as she looked at Cal. ¡°And then, we need to do a ghost movie! You told me you¡¯ve never seen a horror movie starring a ghost! That¡¯s insane!¡±


    ¡°These days, my entire life feels like a horror movie starring a ghost.¡±


    Mel threw back her head and laughed, the force of which shook her shoulders. It was sweet and infectious, and even Cal couldn¡¯t help smiling a little bit.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± She said, catching her breath. She adjusted her dress.


    Then Mel looked at the screen again, which had looped over to the title menu again. ¡°This is nothing,¡± she said in a wistful voice, ¡°but it¡¯s still nice, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Cal looked at the screen, too. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said at last, ¡°you¡¯re right, Mel. It¡¯s nice. I think I could grow to like scary movies. Maybe.¡±


    She laughed again, and her eyes sparkled like blue fireworks. ¡°That¡¯s good. After you realize that, everything else comes so much easier.¡±

 Chapter 7: Aina Declares Herself the Heroine

    [September 6, 2042]


    The new tenant of Otter Manor arrived in a carriage pulled by two giant sheep.


    That morning, Mr. Frost had called Cal, letting him know that he should be expecting the new tenant to arrive around noon, and sure enough, at ten past twelve, he heard noises outside the manor. Cal had stationed himself outside the front door in the main entry-hall, curled up in one of the leather chairs, waiting for a knock, but what he ended up hearing was something heavier and more distant. When he opened the heavy doors and stepped out onto the wide green lawn, Cal was annoyed to see a large and ornate carriage winding its way up the path, because he knew that regular students, no matter what country they came from, typically didn¡¯t arrive in such an elaborate way. This meant another weirdo was about to arrive in Otter Manor, and further complicate his life which was getting increasingly surreal. This morning he had opened his eyes to find that in her sleep Mel the ghost had actually ended up drifting inside his body. He awoke that morning to a horribly frightful sight: her arm sticking out of his stomach like some sort of macabre art installation.


    Cal heaved a heavy sigh, and wrapped his blue scarf around his neck to protect from the wind that was stirring the grass of the hill. His eye drifted to the sea, visible on nearly every end from the isolated hill upon which Otter Manor sat, and then to the tall buildings of Extremis City, rising to kiss the whitish sky. He found that the slow approach of the carriage up the hill was filling him with anxiety.


    ¡°What¡¯s up? You look off.¡± It was Mel, who was never far away from Cal when he was in the mansion, that now floated up beside his shoulder. She followed his eyes to the carriage, which was slowly drawing closer, as were the sounds of wheels and cloves. ¡°Oh, you mentioned this. New tenant right?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡± Cal answered shortly.


    Mel leaned across his shoulder to look at his face. ¡°Not excited? But you always seem in your element when you have more things to handle and complain about.¡±


    ¡°Ha, ha.¡± Cal raised his eyebrow in response to the little grin that tugged at the corner of Mel¡¯s pale face, to let her know just how humorous he found her mocking joke. ¡°Frankly, I have my plate full with you.¡±


    ¡°Oh Cal,¡± Mel punched through his arm in a tongue-and-cheek manner, ¡°I never took you for such a flatterer.¡±


    ¡°That was clearly not meant to be a compliment.¡± Cal rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°Furthermore, I haven¡¯t even gotten around to whatever is going on with Ram. She went missing again today. I checked her room. For such an introvert, she really likes to sneak out of the house at the strangest moments and doesn¡¯t return for such a long time. Haven¡¯t you noticed?¡±


    Mel shrugged, watching the carriage with her wide blue eyes. ¡°Of course. But Ram¡¯s been doing that sort of thing ever since she began to stay here. I stopped wondering about it ages ago.¡±


    Cal grunted in acknowledgement. ¡°I¡¯m just hoping for someone easy to get along with, like Ellie.¡±


    Mel leaned towards his face, perfectly horizontal in the air as she drifted next to Cal, and gazed at him closely with a challenge in her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re saying I¡¯m not easy to get along with? I am both very lovely and very humble, I¡¯ll have you know.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know all that, Poltergeist.¡±


    She pouted, sincerely displeased. ¡°Haven¡¯t you moved on from that nickname yet? Besides, how do you know there¡¯s going to be something strange-¡±


    Mel paused. ¡°Hey Cal, I¡¯ve been dead for a long time¡­ have sheep gotten significantly bigger in the outside world?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cal followed her gaze, and then understood.


    The carriage had grown close enough for him to discern more details, and now he realized that what he had assumed to be horses because of their size were actually two giant sheep with golden wool. Out of a mix of surprise and resignation about whatever was about to happen next, Cal didn''t say another word until the carriage stopped in front of the portico. The large sheep, their golden wool seeming to glitter in the cold sunlight, shook their heads and stamped their feet twice.


    The carriage door opened and a young woman climbed out. She had long brown hair and brown eyes, with a gentle demeanor that was present from the way she calmly stepped out onto the green grass. Once she straightened up, Cal saw that she was tall, even taller than Ellie, with long legs and a full figure. She was wearing a tidy uniform: a dark long-sleeved jacket with golden buttons that she wore over a very simple dark dress, which extended all the way to the bottom of her legs, where Cal could barely see a pair of brown boots sticking out. She had a content expression on her face, and nodded towards Cal, almost as if to apologize for the elaborate means of entrance. Furthermore, there was a strength and confidence in the way she moved her body, present even under the clothes through her wide arms and tough-looking legs.


    She seems nice, Cal thought in relief, maybe this won¡¯t be so bad.


    ¡°Bridget!¡± yelled a shrill voice from inside the carriage. ¡°Prepare my entrance!¡±


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    The young woman with the brown hair made an expression of resignation, and pulled out a piece of white, official-looking paper from the inner-breast-pocket of her jacket. ¡°It is my privilege to announce the arrival of Her Highness, Fourth Princess of Luvinia, Aina ud Cormac-¡±


    ¡°Louder!¡± exclaimed the voice from inside the carriage.


    ¡°-of House Cormac,¡± continued the young woman with the brown hair in a higher register than before, as if she hadn¡¯t been just interrupted, ¡°who has deigned to grace this establishment with her presence for an extended period of time. You may now applaud.¡±


    The young woman folded the piece of paper and returned it to her pocket. Then she stood expectantly, waiting for something. There was the sound of movement within the carriage, but nobody emerged from the open ornate door. The gigantic golden sheep sighed, and stomped their feet again.


    There was an awkward pause as Cal and Mel watched the unfolding scene nonplussed. It was as if they were watching a scene from a comedic play.


    ¡°My lady,¡± the young woman with the brown hair said over her shoulder, as she smiled patiently. ¡°You may make your entrance now.¡±


    ¡°I know that, Bridget,¡± came the voice from inside the carriage, ¡°my dress is caught between the seats. It won¡¯t come loose.¡±


    The young woman with the brown hair gazed upward at the sky for a moment, and folded her arms behind her back. ¡°Have you attempted pulling, my lady? With your hands, I mean.¡±


    ¡°This was a gift from grandfather! I don¡¯t want to risk tearing it. Assist me, Bridget!¡±


    The young woman cast her eyes at Cal for a moment, as if asking for help. Then she held up a palm, indicating for him to wait for a little longer, and then turned back towards the carriage, leaning her head and torso into the interior, which because of her natural height she was able to accomplish without even using the carriage step. There was the sound of hushed whispering from within, and a raised voice saying: ¡°No, here Bridget!¡± Finally, after another minute, the young woman with the brown hair emerged, her immaculate jacket and hair looking slightly more ruffled than before.


    ¡°I introduce Princess Aina ud Cormac,¡± the woman began again, as if nothing had happened. ¡°Her Highness of House Cormac, fourth daughter of King P¨¢dhraic Cormac, Ruler of All Land and Sea, as bestowed to him by the Goddess of Light.¡±


    She looked at the paper again, and smiled gently to herself. ¡°Etcetera.¡±


    ¡°Now is the time for applause, peasants!¡± declared the voice from inside the carriage.


    A girl, about Cal¡¯s age, gracefully descended onto the grass.


    Cal was not one to notice much about the opposite sex. While he noticed things like attractiveness, he only did so passively, without comment or care ¡ª so little did he take stock in such things. He had no opinions about the looks of the three girls he had come to know in his short time at Otter Manor, and if pressed for one, his answers would have been short and probably unsatisfactory for the one asking the question. But even he found himself skipping a breath when we saw the figure of the girl who now stepped from the carriage.


    Extraordinarily beautiful, thought Cal to himself, I suppose that¡¯s what others would call her. An angel from another world.


    The first thing that he noticed about the princess was her hair. It was bright red and wavy, like a corona of flame, and burned against the backdrop of the white sky as it flowed down her back to just above her hips. Her skin was white and smooth like carved porcelain, her figure both lithe yet shapely, the form accentuated in a lovely (and no doubt impossible expensive) dress of stainless and shining white fabric tied around her waist by a thin red sash of silk.


    ¡°Her dress is incredible,¡± said Mel with a wistful voice. The blue eyes of the ghost fixed upon the swaying texture of the princess¡¯ clothing, which appeared to be glittering in the light, though it didn¡¯t appear to have any sort of reflective material. Mel¡¯s voice sank to a dispirited whisper: ¡°I wish I had got to wear a dress when I was alive. Just once.¡±


    Cal glanced at her, surprised at her comment. ¡°You never got to wear a dress when you were alive?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said the ghost sadly, ¡°I never had the opportunity to¡­ wear clothes like that. Pretty clothes, I mean. It just wasn¡¯t something I was able to do.¡±


    ¡°The sundress you wear now is pretty.¡± Cal said, trying to offer some sort of condolence, though it felt like an awkward comment even as he said it.


    Mel didn¡¯t answer, instead watching the growing form of the princess. She seemed to be thinking about something else. Her hands tugged at the hems of her dress again, which Cal had come to understand was a sort of anxious habit of hers. Something about the form of the girl who had stepped from the carriage had filled Mel with a sudden and inexplicable distress.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Mel said at last, as if Cal had only just spoken. ¡°I saw it in a movie, and then I was wearing it when I woke up, after that rivulet of light. I twirled in the bathroom mirror for hours, looking at it. I never thought-"


    She stopped speaking, like a lump had appeared in her throat. She floated a few feet away from Cal and the others, back towards the entrance of Otter Manor, and disappeared into a wall.


    Cal didn¡¯t have time to ruminate on the mystery behind her vague words, or call after her in concern. Aina, fourth princess of Luvinia (etc, etc), walked up toward him with confident and fast steps. She was attended by the young woman with brown hair, who assisted Aina in holding up the hem of her long dress so it did not drag along the ground. She came to a stop in front of Cal, who was slightly taller than her, though she fixed him with a stare that seemed to insinuate that she was glaring down on him from an insurmountably high place. She looked him up and down, frowning at his dress, clearly unimpressed by what she was seeing


    Green eyes, thought Cal, greener than the expanse of grass she stands upon. They¡¯re lovely to look upon, but a little cold. I can¡¯t say I like the look of them.


    Aina jutted out her chin arrogantly, which made her red hair rustle in the wind. ¡°So, you¡¯re the peasant who has come to greet me in this empty, small place? I suppose it¡¯s no surprise you¡¯re too stunned by my beauty to kiss my hand or applaud my presence. Well, you may come to your senses now, or risk losing your head for the crime of disrespect.¡±


    Her green eyes flashed with zeal. ¡°Bow to me, and know the truth of my eminence. Yes, I know you have waited long for one such as me, but fear not. The heroine of your story has finally arrived.¡±

 Chapter 8: Cal Is a Cheeky Peasant

    [September 6, 2042]


    ¡°Well?¡± said Aina, her eyes glowing with anticipation.


    Cal stared at her, his mouth dry. ¡°What?¡±


    She grinned arrogantly, showing a smile of perfectly white teeth. ¡°This one still seems to be stunned by the emergence of my radiance, Bridget.¡± She spoke to her attendant, though she did not turn her beautiful face away from Cal. ¡°Well, this is to be expected from the simple masses.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± said Cal, annoyance rushing into him all at once. ¡°No, I was confused by the insinuation that you expect me to bow to you. I am not going to do that.¡±


    The princess looked shocked for a moment, her small mouth agape in surprise. Then anger filled her green eyes.


    ¡°I am a princess of Luvinia, peasant.¡± Aina said coldly, stepping closer to Cal and puffing out her chest. ¡°If I say bow, you do so. If I command you to bark for me, you shall. If I expect you to-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing any of that,¡± shot back Cal. ¡°And where the hell is Luvinia? I¡¯ve never heard of that country in my life.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± insisted Aina, ¡°Luvinia is known throughout all the realms, so great is its influence and fame.¡±


    Aina turned to her attendant, who was a few feet behind her, trying to look inconspicuous ¡ª as if just waiting for this tense exchange to be over. ¡°Bridget! Do people of this realm not know of Luvinia? Is their ignorance so great?¡±


    ¡°No, my lady.¡± Bridget replied. ¡°That is, they are ignorant, but only of the many realms. In aspects of culture and technology, they are comparable in advancement to Luvinia itself. They have no magic and monarchical rule, and this is why the gentleman will not bow to you. It is not a societal norm for him.¡±


    She brushed a strand of her long brown hair over her ear, and cast her eyes downward to the grass. ¡°I believe I made this clear to you before, my lady. It was why I insisted we forget the carriage and arrive more incognito, so as to not raise suspicion regarding our identities or exacerbate misunderstandings.¡±


    Aina bit her lip in frustration, clearly resentful that she was being reminded about this past conversation. ¡°Yes, yes! I remember it all. I stand behind what I insisted upon back then: that at the very least, a princess ought to arrive at her new lodgings in a style that befits her! And so I have. Besides, I wanted to take Ezekiel and Saun to see the place where I would be staying for the foreseeable future.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady.¡±


    Aina shook her head, and then turned back to Cal. ¡°I will forgive your rudeness for now, peasant, but from now on I expect to be treated with more deference. I am royalty, that of a distant and mighty nation, and expect to be waited on hand and foot accordingly.¡± She peered with disgust at the building that stood behind Cal. ¡°Despite the¡­ state of the accommodation, I will do my best to not complain too much.¡±


    ¡°How generous of you,¡± Cal replied frostily, ¡°I assure you that the manor is cleaned regularly. However, if you have an issue with the manor itself and whether it is worthy of your presence, that is not an issue I can fix. If that is the case, might I suggest finding somewhere else where you can rest your royal head?¡±


    Aina pursued her lips and narrowed her eyes. ¡°Bridget!¡± she called.


    ¡°Yes, my lady?¡± came the automatic reply.


    ¡°Who is this cheeky peasant standing before me?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, my lady.¡± Bridget said, ¡°I have just arrived here, same as yourself, and do not know this gentleman.¡±


    The attendant glanced up at Cal, and made an apologetic face. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, if I may ask, what is your name?¡±


    Happy to address the polite attendant, Cal walked past a stunned Aina and outstretched his hand in greeting toward Bridget. With a look of clear relief on her face, Bridget smiled, and bent forward a tiny bit as she grasped his hand warmly and shook it, in an unsuccessful effort to make herself seem a bit smaller. Standing at his full height, Cal ¡ª above average in height himself ¡ª only came up to her shoulders.


    ¡°I¡¯m Cal,¡± said Cal, releasing her hand. ¡°I¡¯m the caretaker of Otter Manor. I handle all the cleaning and food preparation at this accommodation.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s brown eyes widened. ¡°Oh, I see. Mr. Frost mentioned you on the phone. It¡¯s nice to meet you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, too. And you¡¯re-¡±


    ¡°She is Bridget, my sworn attendant and protector,¡± came an angry voice from behind: the princess who was tired of being ignored. ¡°You would do well to treat her with the utmost respect. As you would Ezekiel and Saun.¡±


    Cal turned around to glance at the princess, who was standing with her hands on her hips. ¡°Who?¡±


    The princess pointed dramatically at the enormous sheep with the golden wool who were standing still and looking at Cal with dark eyes that almost seemed to have a suspicious look. As she gestured, the long sleeves of her beautiful dress flapped in the wind, and made her profile for a moment look slightly ethereal.


    ¡°Ezekiel,¡± the princess pointed to the sheep on the left.


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    ¡°And Shaun.¡± She pointed to the sheep on the right. ¡°They are my dear friends and foremost protectors.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Cal said, disinterestedly, and began to ignore her again. Instead, he turned back to talk with Bridget, whose company he had already decided he found much more agreeable. ¡°So you spoke with Mr. Frost?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Bridget nodded. ¡°He was very agreeable, and helped make all the arrangements once we assured him that we were able to provide adequate funding for our stay. I think he felt inclined because Lord Cormarc ¡ª that is, my lady¡¯s grandfather ¡ª was a good friend of Mr. Frost¡¯s own father, or so I¡¯ve been told. To be honest, the details are lost on me.¡±


    Her face took on a slight expression of worry, and when she looked at Cal, her brown eyes were slightly pleading. ¡°Truth be told, things have progressed very fast the last few days. It has been¡­ difficult for my lady, and for myself. I hope we can stay here. It seems like a lovely establishment.¡±


    Cal shook his head. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry, it isn¡¯t really my decision to make. Mr. Frost owns the establishment, and if he has given you a room here, then it¡¯s my job to help you settle in and make your transition as smooth as possible.¡±


    Bridget nodded appreciatively. ¡°That¡¯s very kind of you, Mr. Cal.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t give the peasant a title, Bridget.¡± Aina said, though not very forcible. Her attention had been divided, as she had ventured onto the portico of the manor, and was peering tentatively inside as if expecting to see some wild animal. ¡°Goodness, it seems damp in there. I can practically see mushrooms growing in the corners.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Cal pocketed his cellphone, and turned to the two girls.


    They were standing in the entry hall of Otter Manor, between the leather chairs and the central staircase. While Cal had spoken on the phone, Aina and Bridget had been looking around the large room cautiously, studying the wooden pillars and red carpet, eyes wide like two lost woodland creatures in an unfamiliar environment.


    ¡°I just finished talking with Mr. Frost,¡± he informed the pair, ¡°he says that while he was only expecting one new tenant, the amount you forwarded and assurances from Lord Cormac have made him amenable to the new situation.¡±


    He nodded at Aina, who was standing in front of a chess set that had been untouched on one of the wooden tables near the window, looking at it with interest. ¡°You can take the room in the loft as originally planned.¡± He turned to the other. ¡°And Ms. Bridget, you can take the pick of the other empty rooms. Rooms 04 and 05 are still available.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Aina said, with uncharacteristic uncertainty. She glanced at Bridget with wide eyes, and then back at Cal. ¡°I see¡­ well actually¡­ what I mean is¡­¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that, Mr. Cal.¡± Bridget jumped in energetically. ¡°I am perfectly fine with sharing the room with my lady. It won¡¯t be a problem.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± said Cal. ¡°There¡¯s only one bed.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t be a problem, peasant.¡± Aina said, moving beside Bridget and squeezing her arm as if to signal silent gratitude. ¡°Any one of this manor¡¯s quarters will be infinitesimally small in comparison to my royal bedchamber, so it won¡¯t make comparable difference to-¡±


    Aina stopped, and looked down the leftmost hallway. Cal followed the princess¡¯ gaze, and saw that Ellie was standing there. She was wearing her fizzy pajamas that were decorated with space-symbols, and in her hand she was carrying a bowl of cereal.


    ¡°Heya- mgh.¡± Elli coughed, as she still had some milk and sugar puffs in her mouth. She deliberately swallowed, and carefully laid her spoon back into the cereal bowl. ¡°Sorry, I was just getting breakfast. You¡¯re the new tenants right? Carry on with what you were doing, don¡¯t mind me. And welcome!¡±


    Ellie walked into the entry hall, stopping in front of Aina to look at her with wide eyes. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s an awesome dress.¡±


    Aina blushed, as if she hadn¡¯t been praising her own appearance just minutes before, her cheeks flushed with an appealing soft redness that complimented her hair. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said in a small voice. ¡°I¡­ also like your sleeping garments. Are those stars? And¡­ ships?¡±


    Ellie smiled brightly. ¡°They¡¯re super cool, aren¡¯t they? My dad got me this pair.¡± She nodded, and patted Aina on the shoulder affectionately ¡°I think we¡¯ll get along great. We can talk some more, but I need to finish eating breakfast and take a shower first. I¡¯m a little all over the place this morning.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s past noon,¡± Call clarified to her, shaking his head disapprovingly. ¡°I cleaned up breakfast over two hours ago.¡±


    Ellie winked at him as she went towards the stairs. She turned and made a mock salute. ¡°I appreciate you, Cal. Oh, it¡¯s alright if I take this up to my room, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± He waved his hand dismissively, used to Ellie¡¯s easy-going attitude. ¡°Just bring the dishes down when you''re done eating. If you leave them by the sink, I¡¯ll clean them before I start prep for dinner.¡±


    ¡°Thanks boss, love ya.¡± She made her way up the stairs, but then stopped when she noticed Bridget. ¡°Woah sister, you¡¯re even taller than me. What are you? You have to be bigger than 6.2.¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± Bridget blushed as well, scratching the crown of her head nervously, perhaps not fully understanding the question. ¡°I¡¯m not sure...¡±


    Well,¡± said Ellie, taking another mouthful of cereal, ¡°you look strong as hell. I bet you could princess-carry Cal like it was nothing. Well, see you later.¡±


    Then she was gone in a flash, as if making an escape from the drops of milk she had accidentally spilt on the red carpet.


    There was a pregnant pause among the three remaining in the entry hall.


    Aina looked at Cal, too surprised to act condescending. ¡°Who was that? A fellow tenant?¡±


    Yeah, that¡¯s Ellie.¡± Cal gently smiled, despite himself. ¡°You¡¯ll like her, would-be-princess, if you decide to get to know her. You might have been able to tell, but she¡¯s the type who gets along well with others.¡±


    ¡°What! I''m not a ¡®would-be-princess!¡¯ I¡¯m an actual princess.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡±


    ¡°Ugh! Forget it, peasant.¡± Aina adjusted the ends of her sleeves in anger. ¡°There is one other tenant here, correct? Why has she not made a point to pay her respects to my arrival, as that courteous other girl did?¡±


    ¡°Who Ram?¡± Cal asked, a little confused. ¡°She¡¯s not here today, she¡¯s off doing some sort of errand. I¡¯m not sure of the details. She¡¯s a little shy, so it might be a time before you actually get to see her in person. Why do you know about her?¡±


    Aina''s green eyes narrowed. ¡°Ah, I seemed to have misunderstood something, though perhaps it¡¯s just your underdeveloped speech. I assumed the girl who was by the entrance with you, as I and Bridget approached, was another tenant. Who was she, then ¡ª the one with the short dark hair? A visitor? Though I¡¯m not sure why anyone would make a point of visiting a place like this.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you mean Mel.¡± Cal began. ¡°She¡¯s not a tenant, she¡¯s just-¡±


    He stopped, struck all at once by what Aina had just said.


    Aina, taken aback by the look on his face, glanced behind herself, as if to make sure there wasn¡¯t some horrible threat entering the room. ¡°What is that face, peasant? Are you just now realizing that the disrespectful way you¡¯ve been addressing me is worthy of the gallows? I am a magnanimous princess, do not be alarmed. You may still earn your way into my good graces with gifts and unquestioned servitude.¡±


    When he still didn¡¯t answer, her preformative arrogance faded to be replaced with discomfort. Her voice became smaller, a little less haughty. ¡°Seriously, what did I say?¡±


    Her voice seemed to echo in the quiet, spacious room.

 Chapter 9: Bridget Wants Everyone To Get Along

    [September 7, 2042]


    Cal stopped in the entryway to the kitchen. A girl was slowly stirring egg yolks in a mixing bowl. Her long brown hair was caught aflame by the pink light of dawn that entered through the windows over the counter, and on her face was a calm and focused expression. Cal was struck silent by the sight for two reasons.


    The first was the unexpected image of seeing someone in the morning. Cal woke up early, long before either Mel and Ellie stirred from their sleep, Ellie from the exhaustion of her frequent late-night excursions that often didn¡¯t see her return to Otter Manor until after midnight, and Mel because of her natural lackadaisical nature. Sometimes Cal would find the ghost still asleep at noon, and even after awakening, she wouldn¡¯t move from room 01 unless she had decided it was time to bother Cal as he attempted to fulfill his chores around the house.


    The second reason was because of the sight of the girl herself. Yesterday, Cal had been too bombarded by new problems to notice (the principal one being that would-be-princess), but now, in the slow-paced nature of the early morning, he had time to really get a good look at the attendant and appreciate her features: the luscious brown hair, the kind brown eyes, and above all, the soothing nature of her presence. Watching her prepare the food in the kitchen filled Cal with an unusual calmness, and so he stood and watched her for longer than was strictly necessary.


    I wonder why this feels so nostalgic, Cal thought.


    Finally, he realized the truth about why he felt so inclined towards this young woman, why the very sight of her had improved his mood, and why he felt he could watch her for hours if need be.


    She reminds me a little of my sister, he admitted to himself.


    ¡°Ms. Bridget,¡± he called out to her, the clearness of his voice penetrating the still air of the warmly lit kitchen. ¡°Good morning.¡±


    Bridget turned to him, her hands still at work in the mixing bowl, and smiled as if she was genuinely happy to see him ¡ª an unfettered sincerity that almost made Cal feel uncomfortable. Mr. Cal!¡± she said, her eyes glittering with affability and welcome. ¡°Good morning to you, as well.¡±


    Cal walked further into the kitchen with a strange trepidation, as if scared he would break the easy-going gentleness that seemed to be present around the young woman. ¡°I admit, you startled me a little. Seeing others in the morning is a rare occurrence in this house.¡±


    She laughed softly. ¡°Then I hope I won¡¯t be too much of a disruption. I am up and about very early in the morning, so I expect we¡¯ll be seeing much of one another around this time.¡±


    Cal frowned. ¡°You must have had a long day yesterday. I expect that transitioning between¡­ realms must be quite a tiresome business. Surely you could have slept in, even if just for today. You¡¯re in a new environment, so you can take your time getting used to it.¡±


    Bridget nodded, though not in a way that seemed to indicate she took his words to heart. ¡°That¡¯s very nice of you to say Mr. Cal, but really, I don¡¯t mind. I¡¯m a personal attendant of a princess of Luvinia: I am used to an early and hectic schedule. And besides¡­for various reasons I won¡¯t bore you with¡­ it truthfully doesn¡¯t make a difference either way....¡±


    Bridget trailed off momentarily, pouring the egg yolk onto a hot frying pan. She adjusted the heat on the eclectic stove, as if she used such an appliance every day. ¡°This really is such a useful tool,¡± she murmured to herself, her eyes lighting up with delight. ¡°You don¡¯t even have to use magic or burn wood! So every realm has different ways of doing necessary tasks.¡±


    Cal let her toy with the stove for another moment, before asking the question he had been dying to clarify since yesterday. ¡°I really don¡¯t mean to question your authenticity, and honestly I¡¯ve become more inclined towards this sort of thing in the last week or so¡­ but I have to ask.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°You and Aina¡­ you¡¯re being serious, aren¡¯t you? About where you¡¯re from? About who you are?¡±


    Bridget glanced at him and nodded again. ¡°Yes, Mr. Cal. I know it may be hard to believe for a person from your plane, but¡­ my lady really is a princess of an extremely strong and extremely wealthy nation from a distant world, and I really am her attendant. I hope the fact that my lady was able to see the spirit haunting this house, which I understand are typically invisible in your world, will serve as proof enough that we are who we say we are. ¡±


    Cal sighed and shook his head. ¡°Like a princess? A princess princess? Because honestly-¡±


    A smile of irony played upon Bridget¡¯s lips, but she put her hand on her breast in a sign of sincerity. ¡°Yes, I know what you mean. My lady isn¡¯t as dignified as she often tries to make herself appear. Personally, I think it adds to her charm. But don¡¯t make a mistake, she is a princess princess, as you say. Daughter of the reigning monarch of Luvinia, P¨¢dhraic V, the most important and powerful man in the entirety of our world.¡±


    Bridget lowered her eyes just a little, and they reflected the dawn. ¡°The importance of my lady¡¯s position cannot be overstated. Thus, the transition to Otter Manor has been¡­ difficult for her, to say the least. And now she has had to say goodbye to Ezekiel and Sean, having called them back to her world yesterday with her flute. I¡¯m sure she is feeling very isolated.¡±


    Cal stepped beside her, and began to take out various cooking preparation instruments from the cupboards. ¡°Why are you two here, if I may ask? This isn¡¯t exactly a place suitable for the type of royalty Aina appears to be. Though I wouldn¡¯t say it to her face.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t bore you with the details,¡± Bridget began to shape the egg yolk in the hot pan, making it perfectly circular. ¡°A lot of it has to do with the political reality of our world, and family dynamics of the royal houses, neither of which you would understand much of. To make a long story short, Lord Cormac ¡ª that is, my lady¡¯s grandfather ¡ª thought it fit to send my lady away from the royal family on her own, for just a little while: a sabbatical of a few months or less. Furthermore, he deigned it necessary for my lady to see more of the world, or worlds, I should say, and his connection to the previous owner of this establishment: the dearly departed senior Mr. Frost, provided a convenient option for a place to stay in another realm. And so here we are.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Cal said quietly, ¡°so reality is hitting the would-be-princess quite hard at this moment?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Cal.¡± Bridget lowered her voice, and stared down at him with a beseeching look. ¡°May I ask you a favor?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    Bridget turned her body away from the stove, turning the temperature with her hand. ¡°I know my lady can be difficult, but she has never been put in this sort of position, and neither has she been around so many people her own age. If you can¡­ I would appreciate it if you could try to be her friend.¡±


    Her brown eyes widened slightly. ¡°I know it¡¯s not a simple thing that I ask, but she is quite alone right now and-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not up to me,¡± interrupted Cal with a firm voice. ¡°If she wants to get along with me and the other tenants, then her attitude will need to be adjusted. First things first, not calling others ¡®peasant¡¯ over and over.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Bridget¡¯s voice was soft, tinged with disappointment.


    ¡°However,¡± Cal continued, scratching his nose self-consciously. ¡°I promise to make an effort to get along with her, if I can.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s face filled with delight, and she grasped Cal¡¯s palm with her large hands, shaking his arm up and down. She was extremely strong, and by the time the movement was over, his arm felt sore.


    ¡°I knew you were a nice person, Mr. Cal!¡± She said, beaming. ¡°And I promise, my lady truly is a lovely lady when you get to know her!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it,¡± replied Cal, tenderly extracting his arm from Bridget¡¯s passionate shake.


    Forty-five minutes later, the princess, dressed in a beautiful pure white nightgown, poked her Belgian waffles suspiciously with her fork. ¡°What is this gastronomical nonsense, peasant?¡± she said with an upturned eyebrow addressing Cal. Then she turned to the seat beside her. ¡°Bridget, I don¡®t trust the shape of this breakfast.¡±


    Sorry Bridget, thought Cal, glaring daggers as Aina shook her head at the breakfast he had taken time out of his morning to prepare, I may need to rescind my promise.


    ¡°Try it, my lady,¡± pleaded Bridget, ¡°I guarantee you will like it. Try it with the fresh strawberries on top.¡±


    ¡°Ish delish,¡± added Ellie, who was shoving a waffle into her mouth. ¡°Ish delish Aina.¡±


    She swallowed and wiped some whipped cream from the corner of her mouth with a napkin. ¡°Cal is exclusively the yummy food machine around here, and he doesn¡¯t let up. You can count on him.¡±


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    ¡°I have other functions, Ellie.¡± Cal said, annoyed to be defined in the girl¡¯s eyes by this single trait. ¡°Like, as a person, I do other things besides make food for you.¡±


    Ellie pointed her fork at him. ¡°It¡¯s a compliment boss, don¡¯t be mad. I¡¯ve never had food this good for so long. I really can¡¯t get enough.¡±


    Cal shook his head, though he was secretly pleased by the praise. ¡°You¡¯re exaggerating.¡±


    ¡°No boss, I don¡¯t lie,¡± insisted Ellie, adjusting her long braided hair before inhaling another waffle. ¡°Never in my life have I gotten to eat food like this before. Not ever.¡±


    Meanwhile, Bridget was still negotiating with her princess. ¡°It tastes good, my lady. I¡¯ve already eaten half of mine, you see?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Bridget.¡± Aina brushed back a thread of her luscious red hair, which was silky and smooth despite her having woken up only five minutes ago. ¡°You know I care for your opinion, but there can be no comparison between our palates. I was brought up on the finest bounties of Luvinia, so what may seem agreeable to you will not correspond-¡±


    ¡°Would-be-princess,¡± Cal leaned over and fixed Aina with a stare, ¡°I am contractually obligated to make breakfast for tenants every morning. I am not contractually obliged to make certain foods for tenants, exempting strict dietary restrictions and allergies. Nobody is forcing you to eat, but if you want an alternative breakfast you will need to prepare it yourself.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Unless¡­ is it possible that such an impressive princess as yourself has no idea how to cook?¡±


    Aina rose to her feet in indignation, her hand slamming against the table and making a strawberry jump on Ellie¡¯s waffle. ¡°You upstart peasant! How can you speak to me that way-¡±


    She stopped, as Bridget had tugged on the sleeve of Aina¡¯s nightgown. She pursed her lips, and then sighed, beginning again. ¡°Princesses don¡¯t need to cook, peasant. What an absurd idea. If we were back in the royal palace, you would be expected to feed me this strawberry from your hands.¡±


    ¡°What a relief we¡¯re here in Otter Manor, in that case.¡±


    ¡°More insolence! It would be an honor for one so low-born as yourself-¡±


    Cal and Aina argued for another minute, exchanging insults back and forth like a see-saw, until the princess finally gave up and leaned back in her chair. ¡°You¡¯re tremendously brave to act in such a brazen manner when you don¡¯t even have your guardian spirit with you, " she commented. ¡°Where is that lost soul, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Her name is Mel,¡± Cal said icily, ¡°and honestly, I don¡¯t know where she is. She seems a little freaked out by the fact that everyone can see her now. You could¡¯ve warned her before you cast that spell yesterday, or whatever you call it.¡±


    ¡°¡®Twas a protective ward, peasant!¡± Aina said indignantly. ¡°I thought you would thank me. Making sure a spirit is visible is the first step of a proper exorcism! Every child in Luvinia knows that.¡±


    ¡°Do not exorcize my roommate.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, quick question. ¡°Ellie raised her hand, as if she were a shy student at the back of a classroom, and looked at Cal. ¡°So there actually was a ghost haunting this place? I thought you were just being aloof and mysterious earlier.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± confirmed Cal, gesturing with his hand in Ellie¡¯s direction as if the question was unimportant. ¡°Her name is Mel. She¡¯s a pretty girl with short black hair and a sundress. If you see her drifting through a wall, don¡¯t be alarmed.¡±


    ¡°Word.¡± Ellie nodded, and returned to her breakfast, seemingly completely unfazed by this new information.


    Cal grabbed the bag that was hanging off the back of his chair. ¡°I actually need to get going now, since it¡¯s the first day of my university classes. You can wash the leftover dishes or leave them out. I¡¯ll take care of them when I get back. It will only be a half day.¡±


    He looked at Ellie, who was still in her fuzzy pajamas. ¡°Don¡¯t you need to get going too?¡±


    Ellie waved her fork in the air dismissively. ¡°I¡¯m on the night schedule, so my classes are in the evening. See you around though, boss.¡±


    ¡°Have a good day, Mr. Cal.¡± Bridget said with a nod of encouragement.


    Aina grunted, and picked at her waffles some more.


    For a moment, Cal looked at the three girls around the kitchen table, as if he didn¡¯t understand what he was seeing. He felt a little kernel of anxiety play around in his belly.


    It¡¯s the normality, he thought to himself, it feels so fragile.


    He shook his head and left.


    After Ellie had retired back upstairs, Aina tentatively cut out a section of her waffle with her knife. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you want me to get along with that housekeeper,¡± she said to Bridget, who was still sitting beside her despite having finished her own food a while ago. ¡°He¡¯s being positively rude to me.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± admitted Bridget, ¡°but my lady, you¡¯re also being intentionally antagonistic towards him, are you not?¡±


    Aina furrowed her brow, and didn¡¯t speak for a time. Then, almost quietly, she said: ¡°I miss Ezekiel and Saun, Bridget.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m unhappy, Bridget.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady. I¡¯m sorry for that.¡±


    ¡°How long do you think Grandfather will insist upon me being in this place?¡± Aina¡¯s voice was different than it had been whenever she was speaking with Cal or Ellie ¡ª a different and less exaggerated cadence that made it seem more natural and suitable. ¡°...Do you think he¡¯s angry with me?¡±


    Bridget''s eyes filled with compassion, and she squeezed Aina¡¯s hand gently. ¡°No, my lady. I think he wants the best for you.¡±


    ¡°How could this be for the best of me? Stuck alone in this¡­ other world, with no friends and no support?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But maybe we should have faith in his judgment for now, and try to make the most of it.¡±


    Aina sniffed, as if congested, and nodded to herself. Then she put the section of waffle she had cut out earlier into her mouth. Her beautiful green eyes widened as she chewed, and she put a small pale hand over her mouth.


    ¡°Is it good, my lady?¡± asked Bridget, in a tone of voice that suggested she already knew the answer.


    ¡°It¡¯s adequate, Bridget.¡± Aina took another bite. ¡°Adequate enough.¡±


    Then she sharply raised her head, which made her long red hair whip around her body. ¡°Who goes there?! I see you, a figure hovering outside the doorway! The princess of Luvinia demands her subjects show themselves!¡±


    A terrified squeak followed, and a clumsy girl with large blond curly hair fell into the kitchen, apparently having lost her balance from the pure fright of being addressed so directly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± She said in horror, waving her hands in front of her and frantically bowing her head up and down. ¡°The kitchen is usually empty at this time! I didn¡¯t know other people were here.¡±


    Aina looked down at the other girl, nonplussed by her strange behavior. ¡°Raise your head and address royalty directly when you speak! There is no advantage to acting so timid. I am the new tenant of this manor, Princess Aina of the great nation of Luvinia, and this is my attendant Bridget. Who are you?¡±


    The new girl, still shaking in fright, raised her face towards Aina, her big blue eyes ready to burst into tears. ¡°I¡¯m Ram¡­ um your highness¡­ just Ram¡­ I live here.¡± Her voice got higher in panic. ¡°I didn¡¯t know¡­ incredible people like yourself frequented the kitchen. Please believe me¡­ I just wanted some breakfast.¡±


    The enormous mane of her blond curly hair bobbed.


    This hapless girl looks like a defenseless sheep, Aina thought and then smiled to herself, rising to her full height and standing over the bowing figure of Ram.


    ¡°I have need of a guide to teach me about this world,¡± declared the princess of her Luvinia in a proud voice, gesturing with her body as if she were wearing her finest royal dress and not a nightgown. ¡°I have decided that you, Ram of Otter House, shall be this guide. I have taken an immediate liking to you. Call it fate if you wish. Now come with me. First I must shower and dress, and then we have much work to do, my subject.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± crooked Ram in a voice between confusion and dismay.


    ¡°I have come into a new world, where the rules I have learned and the knowledge I have acquired are useless. It matters not. I am Aina ud Cormac. If need be, I shall conquer this world if that is required to return to my own! What say you, Ram, my new subject?¡±


    Ram looked around at Bridget for help, who simply shrugged and began her own empty plate.


    ¡°Um¡­¡± said Ram, ¡°To be honest¡­ I have my own things going on right now¡­¡±


    Aina raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you questioning a princess of Luvinia?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± exclaimed Ram, ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ think so. I just-¡±


    Aina bent down on one knee, to face Ram and to stare level into the girl¡¯s blue eyes. ¡°Then hesitate no longer. You seem to be one who is grasped by self-doubt and self-consciousness. Once, I suffered the same ills. I understand the feelings that inform them. Well, be petrified by your own inner turmoil no longer. You are in my care now.¡±


    Ram mouth ¡®thank you¡¯, but was clearly too perplexed and overwhelmed to speak aloud any longer.


    ¡°This will be a fruitful relationship, Ram of Otter House.¡± Aina grinned, her green eyes flashing. ¡°With my magnificence, Bridget¡¯s strength, and your knowledge of this world, nothing will be able to stand in my way. I shall become the perfect example of royalty¡­ and then nobody shall be able to deny my birthright. Let us take over the world.¡±


    ¡°First, let¡¯s finish breakfast.¡± said Bridget, who was washing her plate under the sink.


    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s finish breakfast.¡± concurred Aina. ¡°Tell me what you know of these things known as ¡®waffles¡¯, Ram. I have great plans for them.¡±

 Chapter 10: Ram Practices Speaking With Others

    [September 7, 2042]


    When Cal arrived back at Otter House, his head felt like it was full of stars. He had often envisioned what it would be like to attend school, back in the days when all he had to do with his time was imagine things. Now that he had come into contact with it, in reality, he felt like a fundamental foundation had been removed underneath his feet.


    It¡¯s not that I¡¯m underwhelmed, he pondered to himself as he stepped underneath the portico, only that things are happening so quickly that I can¡¯t seem to process them.


    He opened the door, and met with an unexpected sight. Aina was sitting down in one of the leather chairs next to the staircase: on her right was Bridget, slowly pouring a cup of tea for the princess from a silver kettle that Cal was sure hadn¡¯t come from the kitchen. Across from Aina, in another leather chair, sat Ram ¡ª looking absolutely terrified. She held in her hand a cup of tea, grasping the edges so tightly that Cal worried that it would break apart in her grip. She was dressed in gray sweatpants, though despite the drafty and somewhat cold room she was wearing the same tank-top that Cal had seen wear the day he had entered her room for the first time. On Ram¡¯s face was an expression like a baby fawn that had been left in the middle of a deserted field by its mother.


    Cal looked from Aina, then to Ram, and back again.


    ¡°You¡¯re not being bullied, are you?¡± he asked Ram.


    ¡°What a ridiculous assertion, peasant!¡± retorted Aina, taking a dainty sip of her cup of hot tea. ¡°Ram is my subordin- I mean my dear guide. She is simply instructing me on the practical mechanics of this world.¡±


    Ram nodded towards Cal, though as her face was slanted slightly downward towards the floor the volume of her blond curls partially obstructed her timid expression. ¡°...Yeah, she just is asking some questions¡­ that¡¯s all.¡±


    Cal shot a questioning look at Bridget, who chuckled and put her hand over her mouth. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Mr. Cal, my lady and Ms. Ram have actually quite hit it off.¡±


    ¡°Ram here was just telling me about herself. Did you know she is learning how to communicate with others through an instructor she speaks to on a device called a ¡®computer?¡¯¡± Aina had a proud expression, as if she were retelling an accomplishment of her own. ¡°I disagreed with her method. The only true way to get used to talking with others is to do just that, not through a¡­ computer¡­ What is that precisely again, Ram? I admit, your explanation befuddled me.¡±


    ¡°A sequential logic-base operating system powered by alternating currents of charged particles that are converted into internal energy,¡± said Ram softly, ¡°it can be used¡­ to access knowledge stored on its internal architecture or knowledge created on other computers that have been made available for public access.¡±


    ¡°Precisely!¡± Aina smiled in Ram¡¯s direction like a proud parent, her green eyes shining. ¡°You took the words out of my mouth underling-, I mean friend. It¡¯s sort of¡­ you know¡­¡±


    ¡°Telepathic magic,¡± offered Bridget, leaning forward as if trying to gain access to the conversation from where she stood high above the other two girls. ¡°Based on invisible and accelerated waves of particles that exist in the air of this world that go from one place to another, holding information. Really quite fascinating, my lady. It¡¯s a very different system than our own, which is instantaneous and bestowed by having faith in the Goddess of Light.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Aina, clearly not getting it. Then she looked at Cal. ¡°As you can see, we¡¯re having a perfectly pleasant conversation. There¡¯s no need to get all suspicious about my intentions.¡±


    She jerked her head dismissively, as if telling him that his presence was no longer needed here.


    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± mumbled Cal, and he made his way toward the stairs, suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion. He wasn¡¯t in the mood to talk with her.


    As he walked past Ram, their eyes met, and he smiled at her. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you out and about. The would-be-princess is right about one thing at least¡­ the only way it gets easier is to talk some more.¡± He ignored the exaggerated gasp of indignation that came from the direction of Aina. ¡°See you later.¡±


    Ram smiled back shyly, and her wide blue eyes seemed to focus intently on him. ¡°...Yeah¡­ thanks Cal. Oh, can I text you later about that thing we discussed?¡±


    ¡°Of course. You don¡¯t have to ask.¡±


    Cal then nodded in farewell to Bridget, and made his way upstairs to his room.


    Room 01 was seemingly empty of ghosts, which was a rare sight. Cal stumbled into the space, leaving his bag by the door, and gazed silently at the light creeping through the window. Mel was nowhere to be seen, and that realization inadvertently drew his attention to the sterility of the space. Of course, he brought nothing from home, except his own clothes. There were no posters hanging on the walls, no decorations on his desk, not even small personal effects like keychains or electronic charges. A bland, uninteresting room ¡ª worthy of its primary occupant.


    Cal sat down on the edge of his bed.


    I suppose it¡¯s a little quiet when that ghost isn¡¯t around, he thought dully.


    He laid down flat on the bed, the ends of his long legs dangling off the corner so as to not dirty the bedsheets he had washed only yesterday evening. He rested his neck on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. He hadn¡¯t turned the light on when he had entered room 01, and so dark shadows played across the contours of the wood as he stared upward at them, and he fancied he could see shapes in them. Lines, circles, a face even ¡ª that of a young woman directly above his bed and looking straight down at him.


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    Wait a minute, Cal thought.


    ¡°That¡¯s really creepy,¡± he said aloud, ¡°is this an attempt at recreating some horror movie you like?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said the face, ¡°I¡¯m just comfortable here.¡±


    The face, of course, belonged to Mel. It had taken Cal a few moments to even register what precisely he was looking at. The ghost must have floated up into the space above his bed, the entirety of her body going into the ceiling, but for whatever reason, she had let her face stick out ¡ª and only her face, as not even her hair or neck were perceptible. The effect was extremely unsettling: Mel¡¯s pale face and blue eyes grew out of the wood, barely sticking out as if it were an organic layer of paint.


    ¡°Seriously,¡± Cal sighed, pressing the back of his head into the pillow further, ¡°what are you doing up there?¡±


    When she didn¡¯t answer, he propped himself on his elbow and let his voice become less judgemental. ¡°Are you¡­ hiding? Because people can see you in the house now?¡±


    Mel nodded. Because of how far her face was into the wall, it made her chin disappear into the wood for a moment.


    ¡°Why?¡± Cal¡¯s question was earnest. ¡°You¡¯re not exactly a shy person, not like Ram. And didn¡¯t you want to be seen by others, anyway? So what¡¯s the issue?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s different,¡± retorted Mel, a little sulkily, ¡°it¡¯s too big of a change too quickly. Two weeks ago, I had accepted that I would never be seen by anything ever again. Then you came, and shook everything up. It took me a while to warm up to you, and now I¡¯m expected to talk with multiple people.¡±


    Her blue eyes shimmered. ¡°It¡¯s too much. I feel naked. And besides, who would want to talk with a ghost? They¡¯ll probably just be creeped out. They¡¯ll wonder how much I was watching them."


    Cal shrugged, which was a difficult motion considering how he had positioned himself on one elbow. ¡°Maybe at first, but they¡¯ll get used to you. Ellie gets along with everyone, and those two from Luvinia already know about ghosts, so they won¡¯t be freaked out.¡± He grimaced. ¡°It¡­ might take awhile for Ram to acquiesce to the idea of a spirit haunting the manor.¡±


    Mel smiled weakly, and then it faded. ¡°I didn¡¯t really understand your explanation yesterday. So those two are like¡­ from a fantasy world or something?¡±


    Cal frowned. ¡°Your guess is as good as mine. Apparently, the one with the red hair is a princess and Bridget ¡ª the woman with the brown hair ¡ª is her attendant. I can¡¯t confirm that¡¯s true, but you saw the sheep yesterday-¡±


    ¡°The red-haired princess made them and the carriage disappear with her flute,¡± added Mel, ¡°I saw it from the window. She seemed really torn up about it.¡±


    ¡°-And the fact that they can see you at all makes me inclined to believe them. Seemingly, ghosts and spirits aren¡¯t an unusual thing in their world.¡± Cal shifted position back onto his back, as his elbow was starting to ache. ¡°I don¡¯t really get the details about why they¡¯re here, and how they got here in the first place, but yeah¡­ they seem to be the real deal.¡±


    ¡°A fantasy princess, like in a book.¡± Mel giggled. As she had talked with Cal, her face had emerged further and further out from the ceiling. He could now see her short black hair and thin neck. ¡°I always wanted to be friends with a princess, when I was a kid. I wanted to eat at royal banquets and dance at balls.¡±


    ¡°Now¡¯s your chance. Though, good luck getting along with her, she¡¯s a pure distillation of arrogance. I would try to talk with Bridget first. She¡¯s really nice.¡±


    ¡°Nice?¡± For whatever reason, Mel¡¯s voice sounded suspicious, though still playful. ¡°I don¡¯t approve of how casually you compliment everyone besides your roommate. How about me? Am I nice?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡± Cal coughed. ¡°You have¡­ your own endearing traits.¡±


    ¡°Geez, you¡¯re a jerk.¡± Mel pouted, though there was a touch of irony to her offense. ¡°I rolled an easy ball out to the plate and you still whiffed it.¡±


    Then the light-heartedness faded from her face. ¡°Hey,¡± she said, ¡°where were you today?¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t register her meaning at first. ¡°What?¡±


    More of Mel¡¯s body began to become visible. She was floating slightly down at an extremely slow pace, though it was enough to make emerge from the wall her small chest and the hem of her white sun-dress.


    ¡°Where were you?¡± she repeated, in an insistent voice. ¡°Before I went up here¡­ I looked for you. But you weren¡¯t anywhere in the manor.¡±


    Oh,¡± Cal felt guilty for some reason upon hearing her words, though he couldn¡¯t recall any wrongdoing he had done. ¡°I went to university. It was my first day, remember? I think I told you before. I¡¯ll be out of the manor most days now, and won¡¯t be back until the afternoon.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right.¡± Mel shook at her head, as if internally admonishing herself. ¡°Yes, you did say that. I forget. I got too caught up in myself.¡±


    Her body had now almost completely emerged from the ceiling, becoming a diagonal angle, with her freckled face leaning toward Cal and the ends of her feet embedded into the wood. She seemed to be thinking about something, her blue eyes distant.


    ¡°How was it?¡± she asked at last. ¡°School, I mean?¡±


    Cal considered her question. ¡°Can I be honest?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t talk with you for your comforting words.¡±


    Cal smiled a little for a moment, and then returned to his thought. ¡°It was a little surreal. I got kind of freaked out a few times, to tell you the truth. It¡¯s that peculiar effect when something you¡¯ve envisioned for a long time becomes a reality, and it becomes difficult to hold those two extremes of experience in your head.¡±


    Mel nodded. ¡°Yeah, I get what you mean. At least, I think I do. I used to always push my parents about getting a dog for the family, but they said no every time. I guess they had their hands full taking care of me. Still, I had so many fantasies about it: playing with the dog outside, feeding it, scratching its belly. But I guess I always knew that actually owning the dog would be an entirely different thing. Maybe I¡¯d get to do all those things, but it wouldn¡¯t be the same. It wouldn¡¯t be how it felt in my head, when I was only imagining it.¡±


    Mel rubbed the side of her head with her fingertips, as if trying to dislodge a memory. ¡°Sorry, that was a tangent.¡±


    ¡°No, it was a good comparison,¡± Cal said earnestly. ¡°None of it was what I imagined, but I guess it was still fun. I even made a friend ¡ª a guy my age. We¡¯re in the same major and classes.¡±


    Mel smirked. ¡°Really? You made a friend that easily?¡±


    Cal smirked back. ¡°Is that so surprising? I can be pretty amicable when I want.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡±


    ¡°Whatever, Poltergeist.¡±


    Cal then turned over on his side, facing away from Mel towards his desk, though he still addressed as he talked. ¡°You''ve got a pretty abstract mind, Mel. What I was saying didn¡¯t even make much sense to myself ¡ª just hypothetical interpretations.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re such a dull and practical guy,¡± said Mel, teasingly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, just leave it to me to intuit your thoughts. My charm and fruitful insight serve as a nice counterbalance to your boring personality.¡±


    She grinned at that moment, a forced grin, one just for the boy, though because he was facing away, he couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m a beautiful ghost, remember? Hypotheticals are all I have left.¡±

 Chapter 11: Mel Wants To Touch His Face

    [September 15, 2042]


    As slivers of purple light entered the room, Cal opened his eyes to find that half of Mel¡¯s torso was sticking out of his waist.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he said aloud, attempting unsuccessfully to push her incorporeal form away from himself, ¡°you¡¯re sleeping in me again.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Mel opened her blue eyes and rubbed them in drowsiness, ¡°oh hush, you¡¯re so loud in the morning. Your body is nice and warm. It¡¯s way more comfortable than sleeping in the drafty open air.¡±


    Cal shook his head in disbelief. ¡°Do you understand how surreal it is to wake up to see someone else sticking out of you? This is happening every morning now. How do you even end up like this?¡± He tried again to push the body of the ghost out from his chest, predictably only managing to make his hands disappear into her body. ¡°Come on, get out. I need to take a shower.¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± Mel grunted, rolling out of Cal¡¯s body sideways, twisting until she was floating in the air next to his bed. ¡°What¡¯s the issue? My body doesn¡¯t feel cold and uncomfortable when it touches you anymore, right? And your body is the most comfortable place for me to sleep.¡±


    She grinned. ¡°We¡¯ve grown acclimated to one another.¡±


    Cal shook his head again, though he internally acknowledged that Mel was partially correct. When they had first met, just accidentally grazing Mel¡¯s body would be enough to send a horrible shiver down his spine and start a sinking feeling in his stomach. Now, sometimes he couldn¡¯t even tell when their bodies interlapped. If he felt anything, it was only a faint, familiar warmness.


    Pulling on his slippers, Cal wondered when the change had occurred. It had happened without him noticing, but he supposed that things had felt different after the night of the 5th, when he and Mel had gone outside together for the first time. It was a thing they had done a few times since: these late-night walks, where Mel would float around in the sky and Cal would watch her from the ground. Mel seemed to be getting more and more comfortable with staying outside Otter Manor for longer stretches of time, which Cal thought was a good thing.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been getting up even earlier than usual,¡± Mel remarked, fixing her hair in the small mirror that Cal had bought yesterday and placed atop his wardrobe. ¡°What¡¯s the hurry? You barely sleep enough as it is.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Bridget, the attendant of that would-be princess,¡± Cal said, his eyes shining with passion. ¡°Even though it¡¯s my responsibility as caretaker to cook and clean for everyone, she still gets up to make breakfast before me! It¡¯s ridiculous, and she won¡¯t stop!¡±


    ¡°What a difficult life you lead.¡± Mel patted down some hair that was sticking out behind her ear, and then looked at him. ¡°Why does it feel like this is the most energetic I¡¯ve seen you talk?¡±


    ¡°Because she¡¯s being silly!¡± Cal angrily grabbed his towel and a change of clothes. ¡°She ought to sleep in and rest. She has her hands full already, taking care of that would-be princess. Besides, it¡¯s my job to handle meal preparation. I¡¯m going now.¡±


    Mel raised a hand in farewell. ¡°You know, I miss taking showers. Not that I can get dirty. Just another perk of being an adorable, ephemeral ghost.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±


    When Cal returned to room 01, his hair still wet from the shower, he found Mel still in front of the mirror. She was looking at her own reflection (how does she have a reflection, Cal wondered for the first time) as if trying to discern some greater meaning from it. Her hand was slightly in front of her, the finger out-stretched as if she was seeking to touch the frame of the mirror. However, as a ghost, such a feat would be impossible.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± said Cal, discarding his dirty pajamas into a laundry bin by the door. ¡°Admiring yourself in the mirror?¡±


    Mel didn¡¯t answer for a second, ignoring his teasing. Then she turned to him: ¡°Hey, can you sit on your bed for a moment? There¡¯s something I want to try.¡±


    Cal stopped mid-step and acquiesced. ¡°Okay, but only if it¡¯s really for a moment.¡± He sat down on the bed. ¡°What do you need?¡±


    ¡°Just stay still for a second.¡±


    Mel floated up to Cal, until she was only a few feet from his face. ¡°I was being literal when I said I felt as if we were acclimating to one another. It¡¯s why time is passing so much more sequentially for me, and why when we touch, it doesn¡¯t bring you discomfort. And your aura.¡±


    She lowered her eyes, almost shyly. ¡°I¡¯ve never mentioned this to you before, but I can see the auras of people. Their energy. Consider it one of my ghost powers. It¡¯s a thin colored wave of light that pulsates from them. Everyone has one.¡±


    ¡°And that includes me?¡± Cal asked.


    Mel nodded. ¡°Yeah, yours is weird, though. Most people¡¯s auras are bright and colorful. The princess has a red and golden one, and it pulsates aggressively. The robot has a calming blue, like an ocean wave. Yours is¡­ colorless. Neutral. Almost invisible. Except there¡¯s a dark line that sort of encircles it. It¡¯s very strange.¡±


    ¡°I think I follow you¡­¡± said Cal, uncertainly, ¡°but where are you going with this?¡±


    Mel played with the hem of her dress, still not looking up at him. ¡°Well, I guess because we¡¯ve spent so much time together, your aura feels stronger to me. I¡¯ve become used to it. Its properties. And when I¡¯m close to it¡­ I almost feel¡­ more here.¡±


    Cal bit his lip in thought. ¡°So, when you¡¯re close to me¡­ you feel more anchored to the physical world?¡±


    Mel looked up at him in excitement. ¡°Yes! Exactly. I feel stronger. And the more time I spend with you, the stronger I feel! Almost as if I can reach out and touch you¡­ so¡­¡±


    Her blue eyes are shy but determined. ¡°I want to try it.¡±


    Cal¡¯s mouth suddenly felt very dry for a reason he couldn¡¯t determine. ¡°Try? Try what?¡±


    Mel leaned in even closer. He could count the freckles on her nose. ¡°I want to try touching you.¡±


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    ¡°But¡­ that¡¯s not possible, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Mel said. ¡°But it feels possible to me, because I¡¯ve become so acclimated to your aura. So if I concentrate really really hard, and you stay very still¡­¡±


    ¡°You could touch me?¡± Cal tried to keep the incredulity out of his voice.


    ¡°Yes¡­ so keep still for a moment.¡± Mel raised both her hands and held them close to Cal¡¯s head. ¡°And don¡¯t say anything sardonic. Just don¡¯t say anything, actually. Just keep still.¡±


    ¡°Clearly, we¡¯re acclimating very well.¡±


    ¡°Hush, let me concentrate.¡±


    Furrowing her brow, Mel began to move her hands very slowly towards Cal¡¯s head. Cal, not sure where to look, glanced towards the ceiling of the room. There was a palpable tension in the air as her hands moved closer and closer towards the sides of Cal¡¯s face. Cal couldn¡¯t be sure, but he felt as if he could hear a slight hum in the air, like electricity. He felt himself holding his breath.


    Mel¡¯s hands were barely an inch from Cal¡¯s face. It might have been his imagination, but it was as if he could detect the warmth coming off of her body.


    The fingers sank threw his face, not solid, only warm.


    Mel didn¡¯t react for a moment, not moving the tips of her fingers that were sticking into Cal¡¯s cheeks. She looked at him in the eyes, and Cal looked into hers in turn. He thought he saw something like despair swimming within.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, her voice heavy, ¡°I was being stupid. Forget about this. It was¡­¡±


    The ghost slowly drew back her hands, and then nervously intertwined her fingers. She floated before Cal, looking down at the floor in shame. ¡°I thought maybe, since it was you¡­¡±


    Mel couldn¡¯t get the words out. She shook her head, partially in shame, partially in frustration. Her jaw was clenched, as if she was trying desperately to maintain her composure.


    Cal looked at her in concern, which only served to make her hide her face even more by looking at the floor. ¡°Mel,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry.¡±


    ¡°Sorry?!¡± Mel suddenly whipped her face up to stare directly at Cal again, and this time her blue eyes were angry, though not anger directed at him. ¡°Can you explain what exactly you¡¯re sorry about?! What exactly did you do wrong?! It was my idiotic idea, okay?! Just mine.¡±


    Her jaw clenched further, and her voice distilled into a hiss equally incensed and melancholic. ¡°I forgot. I¡¯ve been enjoying myself the last couple of weeks so much that I forgot. I¡¯m dead. So I¡¯ll never touch anyone ever again.¡±


    Cal watched the painful contortion of her face and felt a strong tug into the middle of his chest.


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡± Mel continued, steadying her voice and looking at Cal with an imploring look, ¡°Do you have any idea what that¡¯s like? I never thought I was the type of person to care about physical contact that much, but now that I''m unable to touch anyone, not able to hug or lean against them¡­ It¡¯s horrible, it¡¯s really horrible. I¡¯m just now realizing that.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t cry.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not crying!¡± Mel stamped her foot in the air, the ends of her toes entering and exiting the bedspread. Then she wiped her face with an arm. ¡°These are tears of passion! I¡¯m going to find whoever made me a ghost and demand some upgrades! Proper ghosts should be able to physically touch others whenever they want¡­ I¡¯ve seen it in some movies.¡±


    She took a few deep breaths, then attempted to smile. ¡°I¡¯m okay, Cal. You wanted to start breakfast early, didn¡¯t you? If you don¡¯t go downstairs soon, that perfect maid will beat you to it. Go on! I¡¯ve kept you too long. I know you must be annoyed with that.¡±


    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Cal stood up from the bed suddenly, which caused Mel to flinch backward in the air with shock. ¡°You¡¯re more important than that right now.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± For a moment Mel¡¯s pale face was confused, and then it erupted into a scarlet blush. ¡°HUH?!¡±


    She practically did a flip in the air, hugging herself defensively against Cal¡¯s sudden declaration. ¡°What?! Um, what do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s try again. I¡¯m going to try touching you this time, okay?¡±


    ¡°HUH?!¡±


    ¡°Why are you acting so surprised?¡± Cal said. ¡°This is your hypothesis. I think we should try it again.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± Mel was now self-consciously playing with a strand of her short dark hair, ¡°but when you word it like that¡­¡±


    ¡°I think you were onto something when you were talking about the two of us acclimating to one another,¡± said Cal, ¡°but it probably needs to go both ways. If physical contact is possible, both of us need to make it happen.¡±


    He winced apologetically. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I was skeptical about the whole thing. I didn¡¯t understand why it was important, and why it¡¯s better if it¡¯s possible. But I do now. So let me try and touch you.¡±


    ¡°Eh?!¡± Mel made a nondescript noise that sounded like a startled animal, and she leaned away from Cal''s outstretched fingers which were moving toward her.


    Cal grimaced. ¡°Why are you moving away? Come closer.¡±


    ¡°I get it!¡± Mel said in frustration. ¡°Just¡­ let me prepare myself, okay?¡±


    She took a deep breath, and slowly drifted back towards Cal, until she was within arm¡¯s reach. She seemed nervous but determined. ¡°I¡¯m ready now.¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t want to do the movement slowly, as Mel had when she had attempted to touch him. He had a feeling that building anticipation would only make the act seem more ridiculous, more impossible.


    Cal reached over, and gently laid his palm on Mel¡¯s cheek. Her skin felt warm.


    For a moment, neither of them moved or breathed. Mel¡¯s eyes were wide and blue, and Cal could feel through the contact of their bodies that she was shivering very slightly.


    Finally, Mel sought to speak. ¡°I can feel you,¡± she said, her voice small and hushed.


    ¡°I can feel you, too,¡± Cal responded simply.


    Mel was trying to grin, but the lump in the back of her throat was making it difficult. ¡°The tips of your fingers are still a little damp from the shower,¡± she said slowly. ¡° I can feel the moisture. I forgot what that sort of thing felt like.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re warm,¡± Cal observed. ¡°Before I met you, I never imagined something like a ghost would feel that way to touch. But now, it seems to make perfect sense in my head.¡±


    Mel exhaled a shaky breath, and her small body quivered. She tentatively reached her hands forward and poked Cal¡¯s cheeks.


    ¡°Ow,¡± he said, though he was trying to hide a smile despite himself, amused at her unexpected behavior. ¡°Why did you do that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to do that,¡± Mel replied, looking into his eyes earnestly, ¡°you have a serious face, and you don¡¯t make a lot of jokes that are easy to catch. You give off the impression that nothing matters that much to you, in how you move, in how you speak. I suppose you have what others would call a ¡°cool and collected¡± personality, yet you simultaneously seem to easily change how you speak with others depending on the person. It¡¯s like you wear a mask for every different acquaintance¡­ But then sometimes, that mask falls, and at the most opportune times, as if by accident, you say the exact right thing to make someone feel better. You¡¯re a weird person, and I don¡¯t think I understand you.¡±


    She poked his cheeks again, this time breaking out into a wide wolfish grin. ¡°But I see. You¡¯re the type of guy to let a cute ghost poke your cheeks and not do anything to prevent it. Maybe you¡¯re not as complicated as you pretend to be.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re being kind of annoying.¡±


    She giggled, and moved her hands again, this time laying them on top of Cal¡¯s outstretched hand, as if pressing his palm more securely against her cheek. ¡°I know. Thank you for always playing along with the dumb things I say sometimes.¡±


    Mel closed her eyes and stayed motionless in the air, though ensured her hands stayed where they were, holding Cal¡¯s hand. As another minute passed in silence, she almost seemed to be asleep.


    Cal coughed. ¡°Um, Mel. As nice as this is, and as significant this must be for you, I actually do need to go downstairs and make breakfast.¡± After a moment, he added, ¡°we can do this later tonight, if you¡¯d like. If you want to get used to touching a person again.¡±


    Mel nodded, satisfied, though still didn¡¯t open her eyes. ¡°Good, I¡¯m glad you understand your position. Just stay still for a bit longer. It¡¯s all so interesting and nostalgic. Like I can feel your heartbeat through your hand.¡±


    ¡°How much longer do you need?¡±


    ¡°About a million years.¡±


    ¡°How about another five minutes?¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± Mel murmured, adjusting her face so it more easily fit into the contour of Cal¡¯s palm. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s an acceptable compromise.¡±


    And for the next five minutes, neither of them moved or spoke again.

 Chapter 12: Ellie Builds a Bottle Rocket

    [September 23, 2042]


    ¡°Peasant, play chess with me.¡±


    ¡°Mmm?¡±


    Call raised his head. It was after dinner, and somehow he had ended up watching television in the living room with Aina. They were sitting as far apart as they could on the couch, while Bridget stood patiently next to her princess. Cal had only turned on the television for background noise as he checked his emails on his phone and rested his legs, but Aina at some point had slinked into the room and sat on the couch, clearly transfixed by the unfamiliar technology. Cal had left it on the news channel, and sometimes she had interjected with a question, either about the name of a country or important figure, to which he gave disinterested answers.


    ¡°Look at this king they are showing now, all wrapped in that strange coat. Where does he rule? I see¡­ Finland is of the north, correct?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a weird way of putting it, but yes.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s a nation of Asian denomination?¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s a European nation.¡±


    ¡°But look at the map they are showing on this chromatic panel! Is that not the same landmass as Asia?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but Europe and Asia are different continents.¡±


    ¡°Are continents not a single expanse of land in this realm?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but we kind of make up the borders as we go.¡±


    ¡°And all of the kings and queens of your world agree on these borders?¡±


    ¡°Fifty¡­ forty percent of the time, sure.¡±


    ¡°This is all so confusing. Luvinia is a nation that rules over the entirety of the world. You ought to adopt a similar system.¡±


    ¡°By all means, you¡¯re free to start a referendum at the United Nations. They will definitely listen to you when you announce yourself as a princess from a country none of them think exists.¡±


    ¡°Are you mocking my lack of knowledge toward your world, peasant?¡±


    ¡°No, would-be-princess, just your general attitude and personality.¡±


    ¡°More insolence!¡±


    Currently, the news was showing a story about a masked vigilante hero who had saved a bus full of people from a hijacker in central Extremis City. Cal had been watching this particular news with mild interest, wondering when on earth news like this had become common to see, when Aina¡¯s question regarding chess made him lose his concentration.


    He glanced over, looking at her directly for the first time. The fourth princess of Luvinia was dressed more casually today, in olive-green trousers and a softly-colored silk shirt that fell loosely against her thin figure. Her bright red hair was done up above her head, so that only a few locks fell down over the back of her neck and her temples. In contrast, Bridget was dressed in her dark-sleeved uniform, the same as always. Cal had never even seen the princess¡¯ attendant wear night attire, and he had even begun to doubt whether she owned any other clothes.


    ¡°Back up for a second,¡± Cal said to Aina, after a long pause. ¡°Did you just say chess? You have chess where you¡¯re from?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± Aina said, shaking her head at him as if his question was silly. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that I am a prodigious player of the game!¡±


    Bridget leaned forward to address Cal, brushing back a strand of her brown hair so it didn¡¯t fall in front of her eyes. ¡°According to the doctrine of the Goddess, there are many consistent characteristics between different worlds. Fauna, flora ¡ª even cultural observations, traditions, or characteristics. To find the same game of leisure in different realms isn¡¯t so unusual, Mr. Cal.¡±


    ¡°Have you been to other realms, Ms. Bridget?¡± Cal asked. ¡°Besides here and Luvinia, I mean?¡±


    ¡°Well yes, that is, once before-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind that!¡± Aina interjected, physically shifting her body forward on the couch so that she blocked Cal¡¯s view of Bridget¡¯s face. She seemed animated with a strange, childish excitement. ¡°Face me in combat, peasant! I¡¯ll show you the power of a royal!¡±


    She finished off the last remark with a dramatic point of the finger, and the sudden movement of her arm made the red strands of hair laying against her temples bounce.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so.¡± Cal returned his attention to his phone.


    Aina¡¯s face dropped, sincerely disappointed. Her voice sounded even a little hurt. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because I have better things to do-¡± Cal jumped up to his feet and paced into the entry hall. ¡°For instance¡­ Hey Ellie, what do you have there?¡±


    He intercepted Ellie, who he had caught a glance of walking through the entry hall towards the front door. When the girl saw him, she smiled. Her long black braids were tied up into a loose ponytail that bounced as she walked, and for once, she wasn¡¯t wearing her fuzzy pajamas. Instead, she was dressed practically: boots, jeans over her long legs, a long-sleeve shirt with an illustration of a comet on it, and a dark green rain jacket.


    Upon hearing Cal¡¯s question, Ellie nodded eagerly and held up the object in her hand for Cal to inspect. ¡°I was just working on some things upstairs and finishing up this energy drink, and then I got a huge wave of nostalgia. Me and my dad used to build bottle rockets all the time back home, so I thought I¡¯d set one off on the lawn for old-time¡¯s sake. Why not, you know? I don¡¯t have anything to do until later tonight.¡±


    What she held in her dark hand was like no bottle rocket that Cal had ever seen. It had been drained and hollowed out, but instead of water inside the chamber, there floated a strange orange liquid that Cal couldn¡¯t identify. Furthermore, all around the bottle were various wires, cords, and metal instruments that he didn¡¯t understand the purpose of.


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    Instead of bringing all this up, Cal decided to keep his question simple. ¡°That was an energy drink?¡± he asked, pointing at the large bottle. ¡°Geez, it''s bigger than your head.¡±


    Ellie laughed. ¡°Yeah, I know. I have a serious problem. I drink two of these things a day. My dentist is going to hate me whenever I end up seeing him again.¡±


    Then her dark eyes narrowed playfully, and she gestured with the bottle again. ¡°Hey, want to watch me set this baby off? I promise it¡¯ll be quite the show.¡±


    Cal shrugged. ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Oh, both of you are welcome to watch too, of course,¡± Ellie called into the living room where Aina was sulking and Bridget was standing quietly. ¡°You probably don¡¯t have bottle rockets in your world, right?¡±


    Aina looked up, still clearly displeased from not getting to play chess. ¡°What is this? Some sort of menial pagan ritual to pass the time?¡±


    Ellie looked at her for a long moment, and Cal thought he saw annoyance cross her face for the first time. It vanished before he could be sure, and then she said: ¡°If you wish to think of it that way, you¡¯re free to. Either way, I promise it¡¯ll be a treat to watch.¡±


    ¡°You should go, my lady.¡± Bridget urged, bending down to her knee to be level with Aina on the couch, though the attendant still had to tilt her head forward a little. ¡°In the meantime, I shall begin to prepare your nightgown and room for the evening.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine,¡± Aina got to her feet, and took the dark coat that Bridget was already handing her. ¡°It¡¯s not as if I have any other way to better spend my time in this dismal place.¡±


    Ellie smiled at her, and then smiled at Cal. ¡°This is going to be fun!¡±


    ¡°Is this typical for a ¡®bottle rocket¡¯ peasant? Because if so, this is actually quite impressive.¡±


    ¡°Um, no.¡±


    Cal and Aina were both out on the lawn, and had just witnessed Ellie launch her bottle rocket. Instead of using an air pump, like Cal had expected, Ellie had instead lit some kind of fuse, and had ignited the orange liquid inside the bottle, creating a small fireball. The bottle rocket had then shot up straight up into the air as its insides burned, creating a small cloud of black smoke. The arc it carved through the purple-black sky of dusk was not a parabola like a typical bottle rocket, but instead a straight line up into space, burning all the while like a distant candle. It became a line, and then an orange dot that shifted slowly across the sky, blending into the canopy of far-away airplanes and stars.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to heaven,¡± murmured Aina, the orange flame reflected in her wide green eyes. Her soft voice seemed almost reverent. ¡°You did not tell me your people had the means to reach such distant theaters.¡±


    ¡°For almost seventy-five years,¡± replied Cal. ¡°We landed on the moon but didn¡¯t go much further.¡±


    Aina was quiet for a moment. ¡°That¡¯s quite extraordinary. The people of this realm did not even have the blessing of the Goddess of Light, and yet they accomplished such a feat. To travel beyond the very vault of stars.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cal replied, ¡°I guess it is quite extraordinary.¡±


    Cal descended down the grassy hill, his long dark coat and thin blue scarf being toyed with by the wind. He left Aina on the top of the hill, just a few feet from the portico of Otter Manor. The neck of the fourth princess of Luvinia was bent upward, and her eyes were full of orange light and stars.


    He came down to talk with Ellie, who had temporarily vanished in a black puff when the bottle rocket took off. He now approached her, and curled his nose. Her rain jacket smelled like smoke, but she had a self-satisfied smile on her face as she watched the bottle rocket get smaller and smaller.


    ¡°What did you think?¡± She raised her eyebrows at Cal, in a way that suggested she was waiting for some sort of praise. ¡°Pretty impressive, right?¡±


    Cal nodded. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve never seen a bottle rocket like that before¡­ um, is it ever going to come back down?¡±


    Ellie shook her head, still grinning. ¡°Of course not, that¡¯s not how it¡¯s designed. It will only get faster and faster as it breaks past the gravitational waves of the Earth. No boss, that thing will make it all the way to Jupiter in a few hours.¡±


    ¡°And this is your own design?¡± Cal did his best not to sound incredulous.


    Ellie shook her head again. ¡°No, it¡¯s my dad¡¯s. He built these sorts of things all the time when he was a kid, and wanted to pass that joy onto me, I suppose. So many evenings, we would build a bottle rocket together. After dinner, while my mom cleared the table, he would take me outside and we would launch that rocket together. He would put me on his shoulders and we would watch it rise ¡ª up, up, up!¡±


    Her smile faded slightly. ¡°Up into the sky that he cherished so dearly. That glittering dark forever.¡±


    She extended both of her arms outward, their silhouette dark against the purple sky that was filled with lights, and positioned her fingers together in a way as if recreating the aperture of a camera. She looked at the distant orange speck of the bottle rocket through the circular frame she had created with her fingers, tracking it as it steadily rose. Then her arms fell.


    I¡¯ve never seen this expression on Ellie''s face before, realized Cal, contemplation mixed with melancholy.


    ¡°You talk as if you miss him dearly.¡± Cal said, watching her.


    ¡°I do,¡± responded Ellie simply. She had tucked her hands into the pockets of her rain jacket, and was hugging it against her chest. ¡°Mom, too. They¡¯re good people. I got lucky. Always took care of me, always made sure I was happy. I guess launching a bottle rocket like this makes me feel a little closer to them, you know? ¡­I was feeling a little lonely, I suppose you could say.¡±


    ¡°Are they far away? Your parents?¡±


    Ellie glanced at him with an ironic smile, as if he had made some sort of joke, though there was a thin and unmistakable pain mixed into the expression. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said enigmatically, ¡°super far away.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Thanks.¡±


    Ellie played with one of her braids, and shifted her boots in the grass. ¡°How about you? You never talk about your family.¡±


    Cal grimaced. ¡°We¡­ don¡¯t get along very well, I¡¯m sorry to say.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Ellie said regretfully, ¡°I guess I shouldn¡¯t have brought it up.¡±


    ¡®No, you¡¯re good¡­¡±


    There was a long silence. Cal played with the end of his blue scarf.


    ¡°That¡¯s not entirely true,¡± he finally added. ¡°My older sister¡­ She''s really nice. She¡¯s helped me a lot.¡±


    Ellie looked at him with mild surprise. ¡°Really? I didn¡¯t know you had any siblings. I¡¯m a single child, myself.¡± She frowned. ¡°You keep to yourself a lot, boss. And hey, I respect that. There are a lot of things that I would rather never be known about myself, too. But I guess it makes me unsure of how to talk with you, you know?¡±


    She looked at the sky again. ¡°I kinda feel that way about all of you in Otter Manor. You all keep to yourselves. Ram is always avoiding me, the princess over there doesn¡¯t seem to know how to communicate with others in general, and I haven¡¯t even seen this pretty ghost girl that I¡¯m told is hanging around the mansion.¡±


    Ellie sighed. ¡°I wonder if all of you find my personality pretty grating in contrast.¡±


    Then she smiled again. ¡°But hey, I¡¯m glad we got to talk like this. Sort of feels like the first time me and you have had a proper conversation, Cal.¡±


    Cal gazed at her, a little taken aback by her words. Then he smiled, too. ¡°Yeah, I get what you mean. I hope we can talk like this more.¡±


    ¡°Anytime, boss, anytime.¡±


    Ellie pulled the rain jacket around her again, tilting her head upward. The orange speck had reached the zenith of the sky, right above their heads. ¡°You can go back inside now,¡± she prompted gently. ¡°I¡¯ll keep watching for a bit longer.¡±


    Taking her hint that she wanted to be alone now, Cal retreated back up the hill and ushered Aina inside the manor. But before he closed the door before him, he took one last look at the young woman on the grassy hill. The sky had truly darkened now, and all he could make out was Ellie¡¯s silhouette, floating against the expanse of the black sky filled with stars. It was as if she were about to vanish into that great expense, past planets and moons and nebulas, hitched to the tail of that strange bottle rocket.

 Chapter 13: Bridget Has Trouble Falling Asleep

    [September 25, 2042]


    It was about three in the morning. Otter House was completely silent, besides from the creaking of the old wood and the rustling of some animals outside the windows. Dark shadows fell deeply upon the inside of the house, and Cal was attempting to scuttle down the stairs without making too much noise or tripping.


    An hour ago he had awoken with gasping breaths, and after lying in bed and watching the moonlight trickle through the window of room 01, he had decided that falling back asleep would be pointless. He had left the room, trying not to awaken his ghostly roommate, and descended down onto the first floor of the manor.


    The boy had had a nightmare, and was trying to escape his own feelings.


    Cal had no immediate plans for what he would do, but he knew that he felt restless, and that returning to sleep wouldn¡¯t be an option. He had a vague plan of making himself some tea in the kitchen, retrieving a book from the library, and sitting in the entry hall to watch the sun go up.


    This plan was immediately upheaved when Cal reached the bottom of the steps and a surprised voice called out: ¡°Mr. Cal? What are you doing here?¡±


    Cal nearly jumped a foot in the air, though he somehow managed to keep himself from exclaiming aloud. Sitting in one of the leather chairs was the attendant of the fourth princess of Luvinia: Bridget, with her long legs crossed and neck leaning back in a more relaxed posture than he had ever seen from her before. Inexplicably, she was still wearing her uniform, though she had deigned to undo the golden buttons of her long dark-sleeved jacket that she wore over her formal dress, presumably to relieve the pressure it exerted on her large chest. Cal hadn¡¯t noticed before because of how typically conservative Bridget dressed and acted, but this small change in her clothes and usual posture brought to his attention that in addition to her advanced height, Bridget was quite full-figured and curvaceous.


    Cal immediately felt guilty upon thinking this, and blushed red as if he had just come upon Bridget undressing. ¡°O-oh, Ms. Bridget,¡± he stammered, ¡°sorry about that- I just ¡ª that is ¡ª I wasn¡¯t expecting anyone to be in here.¡±


    Bridget nodded understandingly and turned on the lamp on the table next to her chair. The sudden illumination made Cal avert his dark-accustomed eyes, and made Bridget¡¯s long brown hair glow for a moment. It also made her brown eyes twinkle attractively, and Cal felt even more self-conscious about looking at her than he had before.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite alright, Mr. Cal.¡± Bridget said, ¡°I apologize if I startled you. Is everything alright?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no. Everything¡¯s fine.¡± Cal shook his head, trying to concentrate. ¡°I just had trouble sleeping. I only came down to make myself some tea and decompress.¡±


    ¡°Oh, allow me.¡± Bridget immediately got to her feet, buttoning up the jacket of her uniform. ¡°Please have a seat, Mr. Cal, and I¡¯ll be back in a moment with some tea. Green is fine, yes?¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Cal exclaimed, taking a step forward, though Bridget had already turned and begun to head into the kitchen. ¡°You really don¡¯t need to go out of your way to do that.¡±


    Bridget turned her head, and said softly but firmly: ¡°It¡¯s not an issue. Have a seat, Mr. Cal. I¡¯ll be back before the morning birds can begin their song.¡±


    And then she was gone, down the hallway into the kitchen.


    Nonplussed, Cal sat down in the leather chair opposite the one that Bridget had just occupied, and listened to the sound of the kettle. Everything about the encounter so far had thrown him off his typically cool-and-collected nature (as Mel had once put it), and so he began to breathe in and out, calming himself down and returning to a sort of equilibrium. When Bridget returned with two cups of steaming tea, he accepted his own cup with a smile and a calm expression.


    The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the silence and the quiet movements of each other¡¯s bodies, as they adjusted slightly in the leather seats and raised or lowered the cups of tea.


    Finally, Bridget fixed her brown eyes on Cal. ¡°I apologize if my presence is making you uncomfortable. You probably had the expectation that you would be alone.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s okay. I like your company.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel the need to sugar-coat anything, Mr. Cal. I know that my formality can make conversations with others who are not my lady a little awkward.¡±


    ¡°I was being sincere,¡± responded Cal, with a little more feeling than he intended. Then he coughed and rested his tea on the cardboard coaster. ¡°I mean that. You¡¯re an easy person to talk to, Ms. Bridget. You have a very calming presence, and you¡¯re considerate of others. I like spending time with you.¡±


    Bridget''s eyes widened slightly, and then she lowered them demurely. ¡°That¡¯s kind of you to say, Mr. Cal. I¡¯m only trying to reciprocate what you have done for me. I have felt nothing but welcome in this manor, so I feel an expectation to treat you as I would the head of a noble house.¡±


    Cal coughed again and rubbed his dark hair. ¡°Geez, I¡¯m nobody so impressive. You can talk to me and treat me normally, if you want.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s brown eyes filled with warmth. She smiled slightly, took a sip of tea, and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. ¡°If I may say, Mr. Cal, as someone who has met my fair share of aristocrats and leaders of powerful families¡­ you are more dignified, patient, and attentive than the vast majority of them.¡±


    Cal¡¯s face reddened, and he raised his cup of tea to partially obscure his face. ¡°I have done nothing to deserve such a compliment, Ms. Bridget.¡±


    ¡°Yet I pay it nonetheless, and have no intention to rescind it. I hope that will communicate the genuineness of my feelings.¡±


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    They sat in silence for a bit longer. Somewhere upstairs, a toilet flushed, which made both Cal and Bridget freeze. They simultaneously held their breath, tentative of making any noise, not wanting to be discovered. They were not embarrassed per se, but were instead united by a single wish to continue this time spent together in nothing but each other¡¯s company. Another person arriving would break the spell ¡ª the quiet unspoken intimacy that had built up between them, which the earliness of the hour had granted a sort of enticing secrecy and mystique.


    More time passed. The darkness outside the windows began to pinken, and Cal became aware of the fact that this time he was sharing with Bridget would come to an end sooner rather than later. This realization prompted him to ask the question that he had been wondering about all morning.


    ¡°If I may ask, Ms. Bridget,¡± he said, tracing the rim of the teacup with a finger so as to not look her directly in the face. ¡°Why were you down here in the dark by yourself? Did you have trouble sleeping, too?¡±


    For a moment, Cal thought he had said something wrong, because Bridget¡¯s face hardened with consternation. Then the tension left, and she sighed heavily. Her gaze fell upon the window.


    ¡°Oh¡­ I suppose there is no utility in keeping this a secret. You would find out eventually, anyway.¡± Bridget murmured. She fixed Cal with a direct stare. ¡°Mr. Cal, my full name is Bridget Abigail Dornlathe.¡±


    Cal nodded, unsure of where this was going but letting her talk.


    ¡°This means that I am of House Dornlathe,¡± continued Bridget, ¡°an old family of Luvinia that since their inception has only had one purpose: to produce exceptional attendants, maids, and servants for House Cormarc ¡ª that is, the royal House, my lady¡¯s House.¡±


    Cal felt the need here to intercede with a question, but managed to hold his tongue.


    ¡°To serve royalty is a great honor, of course,¡± Bridget added, though Cal perceived that there was a little bit of a rehearsed nature to the words. ¡°My mother serves Idris ud Comarc, my lady¡¯s aunt. My grandmother served a cousin of my lady¡¯s grandfather. It would be no exaggeration to say that I was groomed from birth for the express purpose of being my lady¡¯s attendant and confidant¡­. This is a familial tradition held in very high regard throughout all of Luvinia¡­ but it comes with certain conditions.¡±


    For some reason at that very moment, despite the hot tea he had been sipping, Cal felt a chill and a great sense of foreboding about what Bridget was about to say.


    ¡°House Cormac ¡ª the royal house ¡ª before they induct a member of House Dornlathe ¡ª my family ¡ª into the company and close access of one of their members, request a certain ritual must be done.¡± Bridget rested her eyes on Cal, as if to make sure he was still following her explanation about the nature of a world he had never seen. ¡°That is to say, three conditions ¡ª three curses ¡ª are placed upon the members of House Dornlathe.¡±


    ¡°Three curses?¡± breathed Cal.


    Bridget nodded. ¡°In Luvinia, a curse is anything that impedes the exertion of free will. It may seem harsh, but the royal family is extremely protective of their members, and in order to allow an outside clan to serve them so closely and intimately, they feel that curses are necessary for the sake of safety.¡±


    Bridget raised a finger. ¡°Curse one. I cannot harm my lady, or any member of the royal family. If I even attempted it ¡ª say, raising a knife and attempting to stab Aina ¡ª I would not be able to complete the motion before my blood would boil and my brain would melt out my earlobes. I would be dead before I could lay a scratch upon her.¡±


    Bridget raised a second finger. ¡°Curse two. I cannot serve another master but my lady or a member of the royal family. I cannot pledge loyalty to another, or serve them with my heart or soul, not even a lover. This is to ensure no conspiracy is performed. If I did, my tongue would instantly be severed from my mouth, forever branding me a traitor to the royal family and a deviant.¡±


    Bridget raised a third finger, her expression intensifying. ¡°Curse three ¡ª the one pertinent to your original question. The royal family must be able to call upon their attendants at any hour and said attendants must be able to perform those duties with immediate expediency. Therefore, the final curse: the removal of the ability to sleep from the members of House Dornlathe. I can grow weary, or rest my body, or close my eyes, but can never fall into slumber or dream. My life will be an endless experience, an unbroken consciousness.¡±


    For a moment, all Cal could do was gape at the attendant, completely shaken by her words and the calm face with which she said them. It was as if she was describing the weather.


    Finally, he found his voice. ¡°I can¡¯t speak for what is normal in your world, Ms. Bridget but¡­ what you describe¡­ It sounds like something horrible has been done to you. A cruel act.¡±


    Bridget held his gaze calmly, pursing her lips.


    ¡°It is what it is,¡± she said finally.


    Then she smiled. ¡°It isn¡¯t so bad Mr. Cal, truly. I¡¯m used to it. My lady can¡¯t fall asleep by herself, so I must lay beside her and coax her to sleep, which can take up some of the night depending on her mood: how talkative she is ¡ª how nervous she is. Then I lay next to her, listening to her breathing. It¡¯s very calming. On nights like this, when I desire to move around, I can sit and read, or do chores, or anything I like.¡±


    When she noticed the expression on Cal¡¯s face, Bridget¡¯s voice immediately became a little more insistent, as if she was afraid she had scared Cal. ¡°Really, it¡¯s better than it sounds. Boredom is a factor, I admit, but I can always find ways to spend my time. Like sitting here, chatting with you.¡±


    She smiled again, though this time it seemed more anxious. She wanted to put the boy in front of her at ease; to not unnecessarily excite his emotions.


    Cal sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was trying not to let his horror and disgust show too clearly on his face. ¡°How long¡­ have you had to live like this?¡±


    ¡°They performed the ritual when I was five.¡±


    Bridget leaned towards Cal and pulled down the collar of her formal brown dress. For a moment he was flustered, because the movement seemed as if Bridget were about to show him her breasts, but then he realized she was trying to draw his attention to her pale collarbone. Upon the skin, clearly made with a sharp blade like a knife, were three red scars: identical in shape and width. They looked like a trio of rectangles on the skin.


    Bridget leaned back in her chair. ¡°Oh, and please don¡¯t blame my lady for any of this. She had no part in it ¡ª being too young, of course ¡ª and has no love for the practice besides. I would appreciate it if you didn¡¯t mention it to her. Despite being guiltless, she feels responsible for what had been done to me.¡±


    Cal narrowed his brow and grunted to communicate that he understood.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, ¡°and again, please don¡¯t worry too much about it. As I said, I¡¯m used to my condition.¡±


    Cal¡¯s dark and serious eyes turned upon Bridget. ¡°I can¡¯t help it,¡± he said sincerely, ¡°I just can¡¯t help imagining how I would feel in your place.¡±


    For a moment, Bridget didn¡¯t speak, touched by his words, by his simple and genuine empathy. Her chest swelled with a warmth she wasn¡¯t used to.


    ¡°In that case,¡± she said softly, ¡°if you really want to do something for me¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    Bridget blushed slightly, surprised by how self-conscious she felt. ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind¡­ you¡¯re the first face I see every morning¡­ and I admit, I get a little impatient waiting for you to arrive. I always look forward to our chats before breakfast.¡±


    Cal smiled. ¡°I''ll be sure to wake up an hour earlier from now on.¡±


    Bridget waved her hands, flustered. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s too much, just fifteen minutes or so-¡±


    ¡°An hour,¡± Cal insisted. ¡°Starting tomorrow, you can be sure to see me.¡±


    She folded her hands on her lap, looking down at nothing in particular. ¡°Thank you very much, Mr. Cal.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem.¡±


    The sky reddened outside. A bird was singing. There was a new feeling in the air between the two: the boy with dark hair and the tall young woman, one that hadn¡¯t existed before. A newfound understanding that was more deep and sincere than it had been before.


    Bridget cleared the now empty tea cups, and Cal helped her wash the cups and put away the kettle. It would still be two hours before anyone else in Otter Manor would awaken.

 Chapter 14: Cal Meets the In-Laws

    [September 27, 2042]


    Cal was on the hunt for a weed whacker. Luckily, maintenance of the vast lawn of the property upon which Otter Manor was situated was not included in his duties as caretaker, but he still wished to clear the numerous dead weeds that had grown under the house¡¯s portico in the summertime. Thus, for the first time since he had arrived, Cal ventured behind the manor, towards the large wooden shed where he assumed were kept various tools needed for upkeep of the premises¡¯ natural beauty. What he did not expect to see in the shed as pushed open the heavy wooden door was the forms of two enormous sheep standing within, covered in impossibly lush golden wool, staring at him with distrustful dark eyes.


    ¡°Thouest intrude upon our hearth, iconoclast.¡± said the sheep on the left.


    ¡°Thy figure and thy dark shadow behind taint the air.¡± said the sheep on the right.


    ¡°Oh,¡± said Cal uncertainty, pausing in the doorway with one foot in the air, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t you know¡­ lived here.¡±


    ¡°We are never far from our daughter,¡± said the sheep on the left.


    ¡°We serve her, and we guide her, and thus we must ne¡¯er be apart from her,¡± said the sheep on the right.


    Cal frowned, edging forward and closing the door behind him, in order to shut out the cold air that was beginning to flow into the shed. ¡°Wait, I¡¯ve met you before,¡± he said, remembering. ¡°The first day Aina came to live in Otter Manor, the two of you were pulling her carriage, isn¡¯t that right? She told me your names.¡±


    Cal nodded at the sheep on the left. ¡°Ezekiel.¡±


    He nodded at the sheep on the right. ¡°And Sean. Do I have that correct?¡±


    The pair of sheep exhaled a deep breath of air, watching him silently for a short time.


    ¡°Admittedly, thy memory is well-tuned, in contrast to your character,¡± Ezekiel said at last, bending his head forward as some sort of gesture of acknowledgment. ¡°Yes iconoclast, I am known as Ezekiel du Garbhold ni Houliram.¡±


    ¡°And I am Sean,¡± said Sean.


    ¡°Together, we are her royal majesty¡¯s guardians, the golden-fleeced servants of House Cormac, honor-bound to nurture her spirit and protect her from those who would seek to do her harm.¡± Ezekiel continued, his deep voice resounding through the small shed. ¡°You would do well to remember our names.¡±


    Cal scanned his eyes around the shed, searching for a weed whacker. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s why I did.¡±


    Ezekiel grunted in assent.


    Cal turned back to face Ezekiel. ¡°I didn''t know you could talk. You didn¡¯t the day we met. Can all sheep talk in your world?¡±


    ¡°Tis¡¯ a secret, held in confidence,¡± interjected Sean, ¡°one you shall not impart onto our daughter. She knows that we watch over her, thus there is no need for us to have verbal communion with her. To reveal that would be a betrayal of our sacred covenant that our kind made with Hephestus, ten thousand years ago this solstice.¡±


    Cal shook his head, getting annoyed at the vague words of the sheep and the meanings that lay behind them, but trying to keep polite. ¡°I don¡¯t think I understand what you¡¯re talking about, and I don¡¯t really care that much either. You¡¯re with the princess, I get that, but what I want to know is this: why are you here in the shed?¡±


    ¡°Dost thou think sheep are such simple creatures that they can be satisfied with a field of grass and a wide open shard of sky?¡± retorted Ezekial. ¡°We are here for warmth, for comfort, to stay out of the sight of our daughter until she requests our aid. There is also enough sunlight available for our photosynthesis.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± said Cal, not getting it. From what he knew about sheep they neither underwent photosynthesis nor disliked staying in open fields for long periods of time. ¡°If I knew you two were in here, I would¡¯ve checked up on you. Does Aina know?¡±


    The two sheep regarded Cal with a look of suspicion for a long moment, before Ezekiel¡¯s deep voice responded. ¡°Thou¡¯st use the princess¡¯ given name with far too much ease, iconoclast. No, our daughter does not know we are here, and she needn¡¯t, for then she would invite us into the manor itself, perhaps even her room. It is her current understanding that we are currently being held on the royal grounds of the castle, as that is where we have always been present in her short memory. She does not understand that she cannot summon us across worlds, regardless of the blessing of the Goddess of Light. Thus, in order to serve her, we must stay in this world. This shed was a readily available option to set up a permanent residence as any other.¡±


    Cal sighed, attempting to parse together the overall meaning behind the sheep¡¯s words rather than getting lost attempting to decipher every sentence. ¡°What¡¯s the problem with being invited within the manor? If you two promise not to make a mess, I¡¯d allow it. Then you can be close to¡­ your daughter, and don¡¯t have to stay out here all the time, by yourselves.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t presume to make allowances on the princess¡¯ behalf!¡± Ezekiel''s dark eyes flashed momentarily with anger, but then it quickly subsided. He cast a look at Sean, and some sort of mutual understanding passed between the two animals. ¡°Besides¡­ it is not a matter of practicality. If we appeared before the princess and asked for residence within the manor, she would grant it gladly, with a wide smile upon her face. She is much too kind, and too oft forgets her station. We are her servants, above all else, and living under the same roof as her would not do.¡±


    Cal now saw the truth of the situation. ¡°I see. So you¡¯re hiding in here.¡±


    ¡°We are not hiding, iconoclast!¡± Sean said with heavy and vaguely threatening breaths.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t bother. I think you both have a slightly inflated opinion of Aina.¡± Cal sneered to himself. ¡°From my experience, she has little interest in being nice or humble. And don¡¯t get me started on what her family has done-¡±


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    Ezekiel took a step forward, and Cal instinctively flinched. He had forgotten for a moment the size of the animals. Ezekiel leaned forward, his eyes dark and intense, his large head hovering a few inches above the crown of Cal¡¯s skull.


    ¡°If that is your true opinion, Pascal Clermont,¡± he said with a quiet, dangerous voice, ¡°then you know nothing of the princess, and nothing about this world that you claim to be heir to. We have been watching you, as we watch all those who interact with our daughter. Your words have only reiterated what we have come to understand about you. Thou art a fool, pretending to be wise. One day, that shadow leaning over your shoulder will consume you.¡±


    Cal¡¯s mouth felt dry. The evocation of his real name had disturbed a number of painful emotions within his chest, but he managed to steady himself. ¡°That seems like a harsh thing to say.¡± His voice was hurt ¡ª and sounded lame even to himself. ¡°I was just here looking for a tool. I didn¡¯t mean offense or to make you angry.¡±


    Ezekiel sighed, almost regretfully, and drew his large head back so it no longer violated Cal¡¯s personal space. ¡°Harsh, yes. But not untruthful. The item you seek is not here, iconoclast. Now leave us be. That shadow you have makes us nauseous.¡±


    Cal turned, opened the door and shed, and slipped out. Before he closed the door completely, he looked back at the two golden sheep, both of whom were so large that when they extended their necks the tops of their heads almost touched the high roof. ¡°Is there anything you need? A blanket, maybe?¡± he said at last. ¡°I can tell Aina that you¡¯re here.¡±


    Sean shook his head. ¡°Do you not listen at all, iconoclast? We have no wish to alarm our daughter.¡± A pause, then: ¡°Furthermore, we have no need of blankets. Now leave us.¡±


    Cal left.


    He returned to Otter Manor, crossing over the weeds under the portico, and pushing open the oak door to enter the large entry hall. To his surprise, it wasn¡¯t empty. Lounging ungracefully in one of the leather chairs, her nose pressed into a large book bound in red leather, was Aina. She was dressed more simply today, in a dark blue dress that seemed more designed more for comfort than her more elaborate attire, though it did little to detract from the beauty of her face and red hair. When Aina saw Cal enter the hall, she pressed her face further into the book to make a purposeful show of ignoring him, though she did straighten her posture in the chair in an attempt to look more dignified. It seemed she had just started, as only a handful of the book¡¯s leaves were turned.


    Standing in the hall, Cal considered returning the favor and passing by her without a word. However, the conversation he had had with the sheep was still fresh in his mind, and despite himself, he opened his mouth.


    ¡°It¡¯s rare to see you alone. Is Bridget not here?¡±


    Aina¡¯s green eyes widened in surprise, and she peeked at Cal from over the spine of the book. She was clearly suspicious of his casual attempt to make conversation. ¡°I have given her the afternoon off. Bridget is a very scrupulous person and has a tendency to overwork herself even when there are no pressing concerns. Unfortunately, she still tends to hover by me even when she is not working, so I have sent her into the city with instructions to not come back until she has found a nice caf¨¦ where she can enjoy herself.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± There was an awkward pause where Cal stepped forward closer to Aina but couldn¡¯t think of how to continue the conversation. ¡°The first day you came here, there were two golden sheep pushing your carriage. I wondered whatever happened to them.¡±


    With a smile larger than he had ever seen before, Aina put down the book she was holding onto the table before the chair, and leaned her body towards Cal enthusiastically. ¡°Oh, you mean Ezekiel and Sean! I can see why they remain in your memory. They are wonderful and beautiful creatures, are they not?¡±


    Cal, not expecting this amount of joviality from Aina, leaned away from her slightly. ¡°Erm, yes. I thought they suited the concept of royalty very well.¡±


    Aina beamed approvingly at his assessment. ¡°I see, so even a bumbling peasant like yourself has a small amount of good taste! Ezekiel and Sean are not just considered royal property, but also divine property. They are holy sheep of the Goddess of Light that were assigned to me at birth to love and be loved by ¡ª a tradition for every member of House Cormac. When I was a child, I played with their golden fur. As a young woman in the prime of my beauty, they pull my royal carriage. With a note from my flute, I can summon them to me, even across worlds.¡±


    She beamed even more brightly. ¡°And they are wonderful, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    Cal barely managed to suppress a smile. Her fondness for the sheep had suddenly humanized her to him, in a way that he hadn¡¯t been able to rationalize before. It was like when she spoke about the sleep, he was seeing her as a girl, not as a princess.


    ¡°You called them divine sheep,¡± he said, wanting to continue this conversation that was going so well. ¡°Does that mean they have any special properties? Can they talk, for instance?¡±


    Aina laughed condescendingly. ¡°What imagination those of the lower classes have!¡± She wiped a tear from her eye. ¡°Do sheep talk in your world, peasant? No, besides their appearance and their ability to come to the call of my flute, Ezekai and Sean are perfectly normal animals. They are not divine because of innate characteristics, but because all sheep are considered sacred by the Goddess of Light and my family. To harm a sheep is punishable by death in my kingdom.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite harsh.¡±


    Aina brushed a strand of her red hair over her ear. ¡°What an interesting perspective. But I suppose the gods of your world are neither as powerful nor loved by the people as the Goddess of Light, so retribution against sacrilege is generally less feared. I can¡¯t say I have strong feelings on the matter. Execution is a harsh punishment, that¡¯s true, but on the other hand, if a person were to harm either Ezekiel or Sean, there are no words for the agonies I would inflict on them.¡±


    Cal sat down on the chair across from Aina. ¡°You talk of them as though they are members of your family.¡±


    You seem to care about them more than you do Bridget, Cal thought, though he didn¡¯t express this out loud.


    ¡°That¡¯s because they are, ostensibly, if not legally. The Goddess¡¯ sheep are granted the same protections that a member of the royalty would receive.¡± Aina tapped her finger on the armrest of the leather chair. ¡°Oh, this talk of them is making me miss their lovely faces! Perhaps I shall call upon them soon, just to see them.¡±


    She smiled to herself, as if picturing the sheep in her mind and fingered the necklace that hung around her pale neck. Her posture has become relaxed again. Her legs were crossed underneath the smooth material of the dress, and she was no longer sitting at a perfectly straight angle.


    Cal was silent for a while. He wondered what was the harm in doing something nice for this spoiled princess, and why he had felt so resistant to doing it before. ¡°Aina,¡± he said, and the girl lifted her head upon hearing him say her name aloud. ¡°Since both of us are currently unoccupied, do you want to play a game of chess?¡±


    For a moment, Aina stared at him in shock. Then her green eyes seemed to inflate with happiness. ¡°Peasant!¡± She said, her voice uncharacteristically high and affectionate to him. ¡°You are receiving full marks today, well done! Have you finally decided to concede to my majesty, and serve to my pleasure? I knew you would come around, as all do! I suppose my beauty and elegance are simply impossible to resist!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t push it, rich girl,¡± Cal said flatly.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Aina coughed once. ¡°What I mean to say is that I accept your challenge! We shall engage in a battle of wits! When I defeat you, you shall finally understand that no matter how they struggle, the peasants shall never be able to overthrow the power of the ruling class!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a quite dark thing you just said.¡±


    Aina ignored his comment, and mischief flashed in her green eyes. ¡°If you deem to challenge me, prepare to be destroyed.¡±


    Cal tilted his head, almost smiling. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had such a competitive streak.¡±


    ¡°Indeed!¡± Aina grinned. ¡°And furthermore, the skills to back it up. Steal yourself, Cal! For I, Princess Aina of House Cormac, have never lost a game of chess!¡±

 Chapter 15: Aina Loses at Chess

    [September 27, 2042]


    Aina looked down at the chessboard, her mouth open in disbelief. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    It was the first thing she had said after staring silently at the chessboard for five minutes. Cal, who had been scratching his nose with boredom, sighed heavily. ¡°To be honest,¡± he said, ¡°the sequence of events doesn¡¯t seem that complicated to me. I told you not to move that rook.¡±


    ¡°Hush, peasant! Let me figure this out¡­¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to figure out, it¡¯s clearly a checkmate.¡±


    ¡°Impossible.¡± Aina shook her head in anger. ¡°No, there¡¯s a way out. I only need to concentrate¡­ ah ha! Here. If I move my king in this way¡­¡±


    ¡°We went over this already,¡± Cal said, ¡°you forgot about my bishop on the other end of the board. It¡¯s cutting off that path of escape.¡±


    ¡°Hush, I said! Do you ever listen to your betters?¡± Aina irritatedly tapped the side of the wooden chess board with a fingernail, and a dull noise reverberated in the entry hall. ¡°I just¡­ need time to think.¡±


    At first, Cal thought about poking fun at her obstinate behavior, but something in the lines of Aina¡¯s face made him pause for a moment. She was bent close over the board ¡ª all sense of dignified posture forgotten ¡ª studying it as if she were trying to read fine text engraved upon the pieces and the alternating dark and light wooden squares. There was a determined look on her face, an intensity he hadn¡¯t seen before, which transfigured the typically soft contours of her face into something that seemed stronger than usual. Her eyes were different too. When he looked at her green eyes before, all Cal had been able to see within them was arrogance and infuriating thoughtlessness. They were beautiful, yes, like two shining emeralds, but the sight of them before beneath her red bangs had always made him angry in the past. It was like seeing overly ostentatious jewelry adorning a finger, high-bred and rare, but no less useless or superficial.


    There¡¯s a durability in her eyes at this moment, Cal thought to himself as he watched her, a certain strength or vocation. Pretty emeralds changing into toughened jade. It suits her, somehow.


    Aina glanced up from the board for a moment to adjust a lock of hair and caught him looking at her. ¡°What is it?¡± she said sourly, though seemingly more because of her impending loss than because of Cal¡¯s stare. ¡°Is there something on my face?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cal replied, ¡°I was thinking about how green your eyes were. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡±


    He expected her to shout at him or call him a conceited peasant, but it was as if she hadn¡¯t heard him at all. Her attention had already returned to the chessboard. However, after another minute, she replied to his comment. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a sign of my belonging to House Cormac. If you ever saw all of us at court, you would see that all my brothers, all my sisters, my parents and grandparents, all have the same color hair and eyes. Well, I suppose my dear grandfather is pretty gray these days.¡±


    ¡°Must become difficult for the king and queen to tell you all apart.¡±


    Cal meant for this to be a lighthearted answer, and was surprised when Aina¡¯s eyes darkened.


    ¡°Oh, you could say that.¡± She muttered to herself. And then: ¡°It¡¯s your victory.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Aina leaned back in the leather chair, crossing her legs and resting her head on the backrest. She seemed tired all of a sudden ¡ª all previous determination gone. ¡°I said it¡¯s your victory, peasant. Are you hard of hearing?¡± She spoke gloomily. ¡°You have defeated a princess of Luvinia with nothing but your wits. Well done.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Cal had forgotten about the match. ¡°Well, good game.¡±


    ¡°Was it?¡± She arched an eyebrow. ¡°It seemed that you had little trouble disposing of my pieces. And I blundered beside, throwing away my queen because of my impatience to hasten your demise. In the game, I mean.¡±


    Cal shrugged, as if this was unimportant, and began to clear the board.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Aina¡¯s voice had a note of desperation in it. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ I want to play again.¡±


    Cal shook his head. ¡°Sorry, dinner is coming up soon, and I should start preparing. We can play another time, if you want.¡±


    ¡°Cal, please.¡±


    Cal looked up sharply, uncustomed to hearing her use his name. Aina was staring at him, leaning forward over the board in his direction, as if trying to express her wish with the posture of her body. She had stood up in this motion, her lovely dark blue dress falling around her ankles. Her gaze was magnetic in a way, and Cal found himself unable to look away or deny her easily. In fact, it was one of the first times he had come to realize he was in the presence of true royalty.


    Her competitive streak must be even greater than I imagined, he thought.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Fine, one more quick one.¡± Cal said, beginning to set up the game again, ¡°but then I really have to get started.¡±


    Aina smiled contentedly and sat back down. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°By the way,¡± said Cal, replacing Aina¡¯s lost queen on her starting square, ¡°what was that book you were reading when I came in?¡±


    ¡°Ah, a lovely tale,¡± Aina said, nodding in approval to herself. ¡°A fine piece of Luvinian literature by one of our most celebrated authors. It is about a young woman who is turned into a tree, and can only be restored to her human form by a true love¡¯s kiss.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s a romance?¡±


    Aina¡¯s eyes sparkled and she glanced over at the book which had been left on the table. ¡°Yes, indeed. A lovely romance with a fantastical twist. I¡¯ve been reading it all day. I¡¯ll have to tell my fianc¨¦ about it when I return to court. He likes to hear about the books I read.¡±


    Cal frowned in confusion, though not at her last comment. It made sense to him that a princess of a powerful nation would need to be married off to increase the strength of alliances or ties between different bloodlines. He had heard about that thing often in fantasy stories and in history. What gave him pause was her comment about reading the book all day, because when he had entered the entry hall earlier, it appeared to him as though she had only begun the novel a short time ago.


    Perhaps I didn¡¯t see properly, or maybe she¡¯s just a slow reader.


    Determining that it was ultimately unimportant, Cal sat back down in his seat, ready to begin another game of chess. This time, Aina put up a fight. She played more carefully, without the haste of overconfidence, and managed to hang onto her queen for longer than before. However, the trades of pieces she attempted were sloppy, and slowly but surely, she began to lose pieces at a greater pace than Cal. After a brave effort, and lots of her king fleeing, Aina eventually conceded defeat.


    ¡°So I have been beaten once more.¡± Her expression was soft, but a little sad. ¡°Two in a row, that¡¯s no mistake. No mistake at all.¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t do much to celebrate his victory, though he did begin to reset the board for the next game, whenever in the future the chess set would be taken out again. He watched Aina¡¯s face, trying to understand her strange expression. Contrary to expectations, she didn¡¯t seem to be much of a sore loser. Instead, it was as if she were thinking very hard about something.


    As Cal stood to leave, Aina called out to him. ¡°May I ask a question, Cal? You wouldn¡¯t happen to be a sort of chess prodigy in your world, would you?¡±


    Cal smiled, shaking his head. ¡°No. I¡¯m reasonably good, but nothing special. There are many people who are much better than me in this world.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Aina nodded, stroking a lock of her red hair absent-mindedly. ¡°You know, I wasn¡¯t joking earlier, or trying to make myself look impressive. I truly had never lost a game of chess before, except to my grandfather, not since I was the age of six. I have defeated servants, my maids, my brothers and sisters, my fianc¨¦, whoever I could make agree to play with me.¡±


    She paused, but Cal decided not to say anything. Aina seemed to be having trouble expressing her thought, and he assumed that interrupting would throw her off her groove.


    Aina tapped her fingernail on the side of the wooden chessboard again and chewed her lip. ¡°I suppose I never admitted this, but I was a little proud of that. My skills at the game. It¡¯s a little silly, I understand that, especially for a princess, but yes, I took a little pride in that. I have always been told I was superior to others ¡ª how could I not be? ¡ª for I was a princess, and here was a skill of mine that reinforced that belief. Besides Bridget and my darling sheep, it was one of my few comforts. My true comforts, I mean to say.¡±


    She smiled, though it seemed quite mean-spirited. It twisted her entire face, like a knot being pulled. ¡°Perhaps the game of chess has so far advanced in your world that even an average player is insurmountable for a prodigy like me, hmm? Or¡­ the more likely solution.¡± Aina focused her jade-green eyes on Cal. ¡°Tell me, peasant. You know of my personality and position, and now you¡¯ve heard my silly story. You are a neutral party. Lay it before me honestly¡­ they all let me win, no? It was an elaborate, tacit agreement, to boost my ego or just to keep me content. You could even call it a prank.¡±


    For a shameful second, Cal considered lying. He didn¡¯t even particularly care about sparing Aina¡¯s feelings as he had no great attachment to her, and he wasn¡¯t the sort of person to be dishonest to protect the feelings of others. But there was something so pathetic about the image of the girl sitting before him that he thought laying out the reality of the situation for her would burst any sort of self-confidence in her skills. However, he took a hard breath.


    ¡°I can¡¯t be certain of the circumstances that surrounded you, of course,¡± he said carefully. ¡°But if I had to say¡­ yes, probably.¡±


    Aina¡¯s face didn¡¯t move at all, though one of her arms came to rest across her chest, as if protecting herself from something. She leaned back further in the chair and stared tiredly at the chessboard. ¡°I see. I suppose that makes sense, in a way.¡± She waved her hand dismissively at him. ¡°Begone, peasant. I¡¯m weary of your unrefined company. Don¡¯t let me keep you from your meal preparations.¡±


    For once, Cal obeyed her command without comment. But he paused, and let his eyes rest on the beautiful princess in the lovely blue dress, sitting by herself in the entry hall. It was like he was viewing some great work of art, hung up in a prestigious museum.


    ¡°For what it¡¯s worth,¡± he said warily, ¡°while you¡¯re certainly no prodigy, you¡¯re not bad either. When you slowed down and concentrated, you gave me a tough time. If you keep at it, you could probably become a rather skilled player.¡±


    Aina didn¡¯t do anything to indicate she had heard him, so Cal quietly disappeared into the hallway.


    Aina rested her head on the chair, listening to the sounds of Cal preparing food in the kitchen down the hall. She supposed she should read, but couldn¡¯t mind the energy to cross the room and pick up the novel. This realization made her head hurt even worse than when she tried to focus on the blurry letters, and so instead, she did nothing at all. She looked out the window. She cruelly ignored Ram¡¯s awkward greeting when the shy girl came down the stairs and crossed into the kitchen. She played with a lock of her dull red hair, wondering what her parent¡¯s reaction would be if she returned to court with all of it cut off. Would they care? Would they notice?


    Aina sighed aloud.


    I wonder, she thought to herself, why do I feel this way? I am a princess, with infinite power and infinite resources. Why do I at this moment feel like the most silly and pathetic thing in the wide world?


    Aina closed her eyes, hoping that the darkness would alleviate the throbbing in her head. She wondered when Bridget would return, and then realized she didn¡¯t want to talk to her either. Her breathing slowed, and the tension in her body relaxed.


    She dreamed.

 Interlude 2: For Your Warm Life, Countless Burn

    [Era of the Goddess, Year 290]


    The princess was perfect ¡ª everyone said so. And perfect things do not need to improve themselves.


    ¡°People are not born equal. That¡¯s why suffering exists.¡±


    These were the words her parents told the princess whenever she asked why some citizens of Luvinia starved to death in the street with no money to buy bread. It was a phrase so often repeated to the princess that the words became a sort of mantra in her head: the solution to every question that she felt needed to be answered.


    Yes, people were not born equal. That was why some people served others, and deserved to be whipped or tortured when they disobeyed the orders of their superiors. It was why disease ravaged the common folk while the royal family remained untouched. It was why the princess slept in a warm bed with a roaring fire in the hearth, while almost everyone else in the world slept in cold rooms through which wind blew between the haphazardly built walls of wood.


    People were not born equal, the princess told herself. That¡¯s what daddy said. And auntie. And Bridget, though her eyes were sad when she said it. So there¡¯s no point in me feeling guilty.


    When she was twelve years old, the princess made a friend. Despite being perfect, up until that point the princess had had trouble connecting with girls her age, because girls her age were not princesses. They were the daughters of dukes, viscounts, noble men and wealthy merchants, sometimes friends of her father or grandfather ¡ª so there was always a certain distance that seemed to exist between the princess and others. Nobody wanted to get to know her. Nobody cared to ¡ª or perhaps they were just scared to try.


    That was before the princess met Didi. Didi was the second-eldest daughter of a minor noble house (the Ughladi family), one completely inconsequential within greater Luvinian society. However, Didi¡¯s father happened to be invited to the ball that the princess attended, and Didi came along with her parents. The two girls fell easily into conversation, huddled together in the corner of the hall. Didi was like nobody else the princess had ever met. The other girl was a year older than the princess, tall and lean like a bending oak branch, with pale thin fingers and a perpetually wily expression on her face. Didi¡¯s hair was dark and short, like a boy, which the princess didn¡¯t even know was an option for girls. Throughout her entire life, the parents of the princess ¡ª the king and queen ¡ª always insisted the princess keep her bright red hair long and silky, as was traditional for both male and female members of House Cormac.


    ¡°I made a friend today,¡± the princess told Bridget that night, as they prepared for sleep. ¡°At the ball. She is very strange.¡±


    Bridget looked up. She had been brushing her long brown hair, which fell like a wave over the shoulder of her white nightgown. ¡°Really, my lady?¡± She seemed to consider this and then smiled. ¡°I¡¯m happy for you. Truly. What¡¯s her name?¡±


    Didi¡¯s eyes were dark blue, like water at dusk. When she laughed, she laughed with her nose, so it always sounded like the snort of some barnyard animal. She was pretty in a way that the princess, who had had to wear copious amounts of make-up at her parents¡¯ insistence since she was a very young girl, had never realized existed before. Didi was pretty, but not because she had symmetric features or glossy hair or straight white teeth or because she was a perfect princess who was simply not allowed to be ugly. She was pretty because she looked a little funny, and said strange things, and had a habit where she bit her thumb while thinking ¡ª something the princess thought was very charming to look upon. Didi¡¯s beauty was natural and effortless. It wouldn¡¯t disappear no matter how she dressed, or if she got older. It simply was. On her face, behind her face. Imprinted on her smiling soul.


    The princess, perfect in every way except those that mattered, felt jealousy for the first time in her life. She was jealous of that kind of beauty.


    The two girls enjoyed each other¡¯s company in a way that did not demand anything of the other. When they strolled through the royal gardens or traversed the battlements of the castle ¡ª Bridget following at a respectful distance behind ¡ª  they did mostly in silence, only speaking to comment on incidental things or to express random thoughts that came into their heads. They spoke of the color of the sky, if it was pink like cherry blossoms or purple like pressed grapes. They spoke of the things they had seen in their daily life: a dog with one eye, a brightly-dressed juggler, the princess¡¯ golden sheep. They never seem to speak of their families.


    The princess was happy. Happy, how strange was that to admit to herself? She always managed to keep her expression dignified as suited her station, but there seemed to be such a lightness in her chest. She felt that unless she kept her feet planted firmly on the ground she would float away like a balloon.


    ¡°You¡¯re a different person than you seem,¡± Didi said unexpectedly one day.


    They had been sitting in silence for some time, watching the ducks waddle along the pond from their oak chairs placed underneath the gazebo. They were drinking green tea from a pot placed between them. Didi had introduced the princess to the drink.


    ¡°What?¡± The princess couldn¡¯t help but smile at her friend¡¯s strange comment. ¡°What does that even mean?¡±


    ¡°You seem one way, but you¡¯re another way,¡± Did added, unhelpfully.


    The breeze skating over the pond stirred her boyish hair. ¡°It took me a while, but now I¡¯m sure. You''re not a princess, not really. Your eyes are too open. You notice things that you shouldn¡¯t ¡ª that you¡¯re not designed to ¡ª even if you pretend you can¡¯t. That¡¯s why they don¡¯t like you, you know. Because they¡¯ve closed their eyes and bound the lids with iron wire.¡±


    The princess didn¡¯t say anything for a time. She didn¡¯t know if she was being criticized or not, which made her feel apprehensive. ¡°Is that a bad thing or a good thing?¡± she said, almost in a whisper.


    Didi''s dark blue eyes reflected the sunlight bouncing lightly off the pond. ¡°Neither. It just means we¡¯re the same.¡± She grinned widely. Her teeth had slight accents of yellow. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re special to me.¡±


    This must be a sort of miracle, thought the princess at that moment, unable to take her gaze off Didi''s face. The pond and the world were forgotten. A person appearing from the blue that accepts you as you are, without judgment or motive. This is a sort of miracle. A special kind of gift.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Like many miracles, it vanished as suddenly as it had manifested.


    The king came to see the princess one night, in her bedroom, which he entered without knocking. It was the first time the princess had seen him in three months. His full and red beard had grown longer. When he entered, she stood awkwardly, hands behind her back, unsure if stepping forward for a hug would displease the king.


    The king did not greet his daughter and did not smile when he saw her. Instead, he spoke plainly. ¡°Your brother has brought to my attention the amount of time you have been spending with the Ughladi girl. You will need to cease contact with her.¡±


    The world spun around the princess. ¡°What?¡± she said softly. ¡°Why?¡±


    The king was already turning away as he replied, preparing to head out of the room. ¡°Many reasons, the primary being that Lord Ughladi himself has made several poor monetary decisions that reflect poorly on the status of his house. In turn, allowing his daughter free reign to visit the castle and attend to a princess of Luvinia reflects poorly on me, the patriarch of House Cormac. You will not see her again.¡±


    ¡°Wait, I-¡±


    The princess couldn¡¯t help her involuntary protests. Until that moment, she had never spoken a word against her father. At the unexpected words, the king turned his head to look at her. It was dark in the room. Dusk had fallen and the princess had not yet lit a candle. The shadows passed over her father¡¯s face, obscuring it and making it even more terrifying than usual.


    ¡°I only mean-¡± The princess tried to keep her voice from wavering. ¡°Is that absolutely necessary, if it makes little difference to you? Because Didi and me, we¡¯ve gotten quite close in recent-¡±


    She flinched. The king had taken a step back into the room, with a sharp movement that almost made her gasp aloud. Her father had never struck her, though she had seen him hit her older brothers across the face before for not following or contradicting commands.


    ¡°Aina,¡± the king said, with a dangerously emotionless voice. ¡°Are you disobeying an order from your king?¡±


    The princess bit her lip, trying not to burst into tears, which she knew would only make him angrier. ¡°No, Your Highness. I just wondered-¡±


    ¡°You will never see this girl again,¡± the king said, his voice raising slightly in volume. ¡°She is not of a rank high enough to be seen with a royal princess. From what I¡¯ve been told, her looks and manners are utterly repugnant to well-mannered society. Her continued presence cannot be accepted by the royal house. Now, you will drop this matter, unless you want me to handle this problem personally.¡±


    And then he was gone. The room seemed to be still spinning. It had taken a little over two minutes for the world to break apart.


    People are not born equal. That was a fact of life.


    I know that, thought the princess, I really know that, I don¡¯t need to be reminded. Please, father, don¡¯t-


    The sound of the king¡¯s footsteps had faded. The princess took a step to the left. Then she took a step to the right. She couldn¡¯t seem to think properly. The dark room seemed to be pressing in on her from all sides. Already it seemed like the image of Didi¡¯s smile that she held within her own mind was fading, abstracting, becoming the distant past ¡ª all at once.


    I need to tell someone, the princess thought, someone can help me.


    But who? Her mother would not care. Her siblings would ultimately listen to her, but would be equally powerless in the face of their father¡¯s will. Grandfather could do something, but he wasn¡¯t in the capital right now.


    Bridget, the princess realized, her mind spinning around this realization. I need Bridget. She will fix this, somehow, because she¡¯s smarter than me and will think of a solution. I need her, where is she, because it cannot end like this, so suddenly, so horribly, without a goodbye or any sort of words. This is precious to me, she is precious to me, and maybe everybody is precious and nothing is better or worse but I won¡¯t ever learn that if this happens. Bridget, where are you, please-


    [September 27, 2042]


    ¡°My lady? Aina?¡±


    Someone was calling Aina¡¯s name. She opened her eyes, and somehow wasn¡¯t surprised to see Bridget staring at her. One of her attendant¡¯s hands was lying gently on Aina¡¯s shoulder. Aina¡¯s back ached. She must have fallen asleep in the entry hall.


    Bridget¡¯s eyes brightened when she saw Aina open her eyes. ¡°Sorry for disturbing your rest, my lady. Mr. Cal had finished preparing dinner.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± said Aina, brushing her red hair into place with her hand. ¡°Oh. Yes, of course. The peasant mentioned that earlier. Yes.¡±


    Bridget leaned back, intuition shining in her eyes. ¡°Are you alright, my lady?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± Aina replied brusquely, still blinking the sleep from her eyes and adjusting her back in the leather chair. ¡°Only, I need to apologize to Ms. Ram. I ignored her quite rudely earlier¡­¡±


    Aina trailed off. There was no point in lying to Bridget, who knew her as well as she knew herself. ¡°No, that was a lie. I am not alright. I had another dream about Didi, Bridget. Even after seven years¡­ I just never seem to learn my lesson¡­¡±


    Aina rose to her feet, looking aimlessly around the room. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯ve been sent here, isn¡¯t it? To this place ¡ª this world. Because I¡¯m just-¡±


    ¡°My lady,¡± Bridget interrupted, simultaneously forcefully and apologetically. ¡°It¡¯s just- if I may say something.¡±


    Aina fixed her dress, which had creased in her sleep. ¡°Yes?¡± she responded, trying to keep her voice unemotional.


    Bridget straightened to her full height, which was at least a head-and-a-half taller than Aina herself. Her kind face and brown eyes seemed to shine with determination. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing, I think, to not forget, my lady. That means Lady Ughladi is still part of you, her influence still in you. I remember those days, my lady. I¡¯m glad you can recall the happiness they brought you. ¡­I''d never seen you like that, up until that point. Maybe that¡¯s because I didn¡¯t know you fully yet, and what kind of person you were.¡±


    A sudden burst of emotion went through Aina. She almost felt like crying, but she managed to straighten her posture and keep her voice dignified. ¡°Bridget.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t said it yet. I¡¯m very grateful that you are with me, in this place.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, my lady. I knew it already. You always tell me, every day, in your own way.¡±


    Aina reached forward and squeezed Bridget¡¯s hand. ¡°Okay¡­¡± She said shakily, gulping down air.


    Then Aina smiled. ¡°You said supper is ready? Let¡¯s see what that cheeky peasant cooked this time.¡±


    ¡°I knew you secretly looked forward to Mr. Cal¡¯s meals, my lady.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Bridget. I take it you know that I expect you not to mention this fact aloud. I have suffered enough humiliation at the hands of that boy for one day.¡±


    There was a smile. ¡°Understood, my lady. Understood.¡±

 Chapter 16: Mel Was Born Here

    [October 1, 2042]


    Mel the ghost was bored most days. As it turns out, experiencing time in a completely linear and continuous manner wasn¡¯t very exciting when you had neither hobbies nor a corporeal body.


    So, she experimented. Going outside was still a little frightening to her, particularly when she didn¡¯t have Cal for company, but she forced herself a little further out along the property of Otter House every few days or so, just to practice what it would feel like. She went out onto the grassy hill, to the coast of the property where the grass turned into a beach of small stones that hugged the coast of the bay, even to the front gate of the property. She watched many people pass, all their lives rushing by her, and felt filled with nostalgia. Whenever she felt anxious, she remembered the boy¡¯s words and would repeat them under her breath.


    ¡°Nowhere safe and nowhere terrifying,¡± she would murmur quietly when she was sure nobody would hear her, ¡°and it doesn¡¯t matter either way. You¡¯re a ghost, Mel. You¡¯re super scary and super cute. The living make movies and TV shows in terror and praise of you.¡±


    One day, when Mel came home from people-watching, she was a little more careless than usual. Instead of floating up to room 01 from the outside of the house, Mel glided through the front wall, emerging in the living room of the manor, where she immediately froze. Previously watching TV, now her green eyes curiously observing the ghost, was Aina ud Cormac, fourth princess of Luvinia.


    ¡°Ah, the wayward spirit of this estate,¡± Aina said, her voice measured and dignified, ¡°I was beginning to wonder if I imagined you all together.¡±


    For a long moment, Mel considered bailing on the interaction ¡ª floating up into the ceiling without a word and disappearing. If she was being perfectly honest with herself, the princess from another world intimidated her: her beauty, her intensely green eyes, her pretty clothes (today, Aina was wearing another beautiful outfit: a sunflower-yellow dress that looked more expensive than anything in the entirety of Otter Manor). There was an aversion and self-consciousness towards the princess that Mel couldn¡¯t even explain to herself. The sight of Aina¡¯s red wavy hair and unblemished pale face was enough to make the ghost girl want to disappear from sight.


    She¡¯s what femininity ought to look like, Mel thought, I¡¯m just the shadow of an image that never existed.


    ¡°Princess Aina,¡± said Mel slowly, trying not to show signs of her nervousness, ¡°that¡¯s you, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Aina nodded, turning her body on the couch so it more easily faced Mel. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s me. I¡¯m glad at least someone in this place besides Bridget recognizes my rank. Well, the Ram girl ¡ª my royal guide ¡ª she tries, but she¡¯s always tripping over her words. I think she¡¯s scared of me, and of everyone.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re the reason I¡¯m visible to others now¡­ on this property, at least?¡±


    Aina¡¯s green eyes looked Mel up and down. The ghost was floating beside the wall where she had entered, her posture withdrawn, with arms around herself and her gaze looking downward at the floor.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Aina said, ¡°that was me. More specifically, it was the effects of a protective ward that I placed in my room upon arrival, a trinket I just so happened to take with me from home. I did it to prepare for an exorcism, and the revealing of your presence was simply to pave the way for such a ceremony.¡±


    Aina blinked, as if she just realized what she said. ¡°Oh, but don¡®t be alarmed, it was just in case you turned out to be a malignant spirit. That troublesome peasant gave me a lecture, assuring me that you¡¯re perfectly safe and that he would kick me out of the accommodation promptly if I used my magic to send you to the afterlife.¡±


    While Aina frowned in disapproval upon saying these words, Mel seemed to brighten at the mention of Cal. She uncrossed her arms and floated a little closer to Aina, the hem of her dress swaying. Her previous nervousness seemed to be forgotten temporarily.


    ¡°Cal said that?¡± Mel asked eagerly.


    Aina studied the ghost with a degree of confusion, perplexed by the spirit¡¯s reaction to the mention of what was in her mind an irritating individual. ¡°Yes¡­ Well, maybe not in those words, but he made his disapproval of my actions clear¡­ as he seldom fails to do.¡± She sighed in irritation. ¡°You two are ¡®roommates¡¯, yes? That was the word the peasant used.¡±


    Mel¡¯s freckled face broke out into a smile. ¡°Yeah, we got stuck together. Neither of us wanted to give up the space. He threatened to evict me, but I really sorted him out with my intimidating ghost powers and he promptly acquiesced out of respect for me. So now we share it. It¡¯s our room.¡±


    Aina¡¯s eyes narrowed as she studied the ghost¡¯s clear elation at saying these words out loud, though the princess could tell that the ghost was perhaps fudging some details of her first encounters with the manor¡¯s caretaker.


    It¡¯s remarkable, the princess thought, not even in my world have I come across a spirit so lively, so expressive, so clearly aware of their surroundings. She¡¯s not even slightly transparent. Almost as if I reach out and touch her. ¡­She¡¯s like nothing I¡¯ve ever seen.


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    For a moment, neither girl spoke. The TV continued to talk in the background: a news story about the masked vigilante hero Shining Hope Guardian, who had been preventing a string of petty crimes in Extremis City.


    After consideration, during which she played thoughtfully with the ends of her red hair, Aina asked the question that had been bothering her. ¡°Why tolerate such an unrefined presence in your company?¡±


    Mel looked up, seemingly caught off-guard by the question. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­¡± Aina looked around herself at the room, the wooden walls, the lush carpets, and the artwork hanging on the walls. ¡°You¡¯re a very powerful spirit. Using your spiritual energy, you could forcibly remove that peasant from your space with psychic attacks or even physical trauma. You certainly are capable of that. It wouldn¡¯t have mattered if he refused to leave, you could have forced him to leave, no? He¡¯s an ordinary human, after all.¡±


    The princess paused again, then resumed. ¡°An ordinary human¡­ trespassing in your home. This place ¡ª Otter Manor ¡ª is your home, isn¡¯t it? You were born here. And that room 01, which both of you now occupy, was where you lived when you were alive, yes?¡±


    Mel''s face was unreadable for a moment. Her blue eyes seemed to grow deeper and wider than before. ¡°How did you know that?¡± she said.


    Aina shrugged. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a hard guess. I know a thing or two about spirits from my own world. One as strong as you couldn¡¯t have possibly manifested in any other place ¡ª this building must be your birthplace, the place you spent your life, the place where you died. To fulfill all three requirements: that is the only way I could account for a soul like yourself.¡±


    Mel drifted a little closer through the air, her small fingers intertwining with nervousness. She didn¡¯t quite face Aina, though her eyes did dart to her occasionally. ¡°Do I need a reason to want him to stay¡­?¡± She spoke these words as if talking to herself. ¡°He saw me first, that¡¯s all. Before anyone else.¡±


    ¡°Saw you first?¡± Aina did not understand, though a contradiction made itself clear in her mind the moment she asked this question.


    On second thought, ordinary humans of this realm cannot see ghosts, Aina remembered, myself and Bridget were exceptions since we came from a realm where spirits are visible to all as a matter of nature. But when we arrived that peasant was aware of and already speaking with this ghost. How is that possible? Unless-


    Aina¡¯s train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of Bridget into the room. She carried with her the pot of green tea she had been preparing in the kitchen. When the attendant saw the ghost floating in the room, her brown eyes widened slightly, but she seemed to get over her surprise quickly. She bent her tall body and set the pot of tea upon the table next to the couch where it would be easily accessible for the princess.


    ¡°There you go, my lady,¡± she muttered softly.


    Then Bridget raised her head, and smiled reassuringly at Mel. ¡°You are Ms. Mel, are you not? It¡¯s good to meet you formally. I am Bridget Abigail Dornlathe, the attendant of my lady Aina. I¡¯ve heard a lot about you from Mr. Cal, Ms. Mel.¡±


    Mel nodded demurely, seemingly not sure how to react to the entrance of the young woman. She made an effort to move her head responsively, feeling put at ease by the attendant¡¯s maternal presence. ¡°All good things, I hope. Cal can get a little impatient with me¡­¡±


    Bridget¡¯s smile widened. ¡°Mr. Cal has spoken very well of you, please be reassured, Ms. Mel. Myself and Princess Aina have been very eager to meet you ¡ª after all, you¡¯re the lady of the house, so to speak. Cal may be the caretaker here, but we are guests in your home.¡±


    ¡°You-¡± Mel blushed, the tips of her ears reddening, ¡°you are very welcome to stay. I¡¯m not used to Otter Manor being so full, but¡­ it¡¯s nicer than when it was empty for so many years.¡±


    Mel tugged at the ends of her short dark hair, which messily poked out in many directions. ¡°I¡¯m glad Cal gave you a good impression of me, Lady Bridget.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m no lady.¡± Bridget waved her hands in protest in front of her, though she seemed secretly pleased by Mel¡¯s words. ¡°As for Mr. Cal, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware, while he might seem a little aloof, he always treats others fairly and with kindness. He wouldn¡¯t speak ill or well of a person unless he had good reason to. It¡¯s a strange quirk of his personality.¡±


    Mel leaned forward eagerly, her body floating closer to where Bridget stood. The ends of her bare toes sank into the couch. ¡°Yes, I know what you mean! He¡¯s always teasing me! He calls me things like ¡°Poltergeist¡± and ¡°useless ghost¡±, but then he still does nice things for me ¡ª like, he just rented a movie for me that I mentioned I had been wanting to see after seeing ads for it on TV. We¡¯re watching it tonight: it¡¯s called Blood Murder House On Blood Death Street. ¡­He¡¯s so weird.¡±


    ¡°What an intriguing title,¡± Bridget commented. Then she tilted her head towards the ghost, her brown eyes glittering. ¡°Mr. Cal is a strange one, isn¡¯t he? Like a sullen cat afraid to show its belly, but who always leaves presents outside your door when nobody''s looking.¡±


    The two young women, the attendant and the ghost, giggled together as if they were sharing some sort of private joke. Aina, who had been feeling left out of the conversation, looked with confusion between the two, unsure of what was so amusing about the caretaker of the manor.


    I feel as if I¡¯ve missed a step here, Aina thought, is there something obvious I haven¡¯t realized?


    Determined to regain control of this strange conversation, Aina addressed the ghost. ¡°Would you like to stay for tea, Mel? I know you can¡¯t have some yourself, but myself and Bridget would very much appreciate your company.¡±


    A look of uncertainty reappeared on Mel¡¯s face, but she seemed to swallow her fears. ¡°Okay,¡± she said, though her face was a little pale. ¡°If that¡¯s okay. Truthfully, I have so many questions about your world¡­¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d be delighted to answer any questions you have,¡± said Bridget, who had taken a seat beside Aina on the couch, ¡°what would you like to know about first?¡±


    The ghost¡¯s blue eyes shone. ¡°Oh, I have a million questions!¡±


    Aina poured herself a cup of tea. ¡°Perhaps just begin with one?¡±


    ¡°Do you guys have, like, dragons in your world?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­¡±


    The three girls chatted unenthusiastically, until the light in the room transitioned from golden to dark purple, and Cal called them into the kitchen for a supper of spaghetti and fresh bread dipped in olive oil.

 Chapter 17: Ram Is At the Library

    [October 3, 2042]


    Over the years, the library at the university had been converted more and more into a hybrid social-gathering room. Comfy couches for students to lounge on and computers to work at replaced the rows of shelves. The decor became non-formal and colorful, built for comfort over academic concentration. There were bean-bag chairs and water fountains and vending machines in the corner, meant to facilitate a casual, lay-back atmosphere. Two of the four walls were big windows that allowed a copious amount of natural light, and every wall surface seemed to be smooth and white, as was the style of mid-21st-century architecture, renovated from its original wooden design that had been built at the beginning of the last century.


    Cal was between classes. His lectures in the morning had dragged on and exhausted him, so he had gone to the university library for the first time since the beginning of the semester, looking for a quiet place where he could decompress. However, it was louder here than he had anticipated. Groups of students huddled around, talking loudly and eating their lunch. Cal strolled past them, moving past the common area to the back of the library, where there were still shelves of books that carved out quieter corners where students could study. He was tired and a little irritable, and so it came as a complete surprise when he turned the corner of a shelf to find Ram sitting at a small table, her nose buried in a comic book.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Cal said, sincerely surprised, ¡°Hey Ram.¡±


    When she looked up, Ram made a noise somewhere between a gasp of panic and a deflating balloon. She instantly blushed upon seeing Cal¡¯s face and hid the comic under the table, her voice stuttering. ¡°O-oh, hi. You- I mean, I wasn¡¯t really expecting to see you, Cal.¡±


    ¡°Likewise.¡± Cal took a seat across from Ram, which made her seem to shrink away from him. ¡°It¡¯s rare to see you at the university. You take online classes, right?¡±


    Ram nodded rapidly, making her blond curls bounce. ¡°Y-yeah. I sometimes come here to get out of the house. It¡¯s a little loud these days, not like when it was just me and Ellie and Mr. Frost sometimes checking in¡­¡±


    Then she covered her mouth as if horrified at what she had said. ¡°Oh! I don¡¯t mean to complain!¡± Her voice sounded anxious and her brown eyes were wide. ¡°It¡¯s great having Aina and Bridget and that ghost around¡­ and you¡­ but¡­¡±


    She trailed off, seemingly unsure of how to finish her thought in a way that appeared inoffensive.


    ¡°It¡¯s hard getting used to it?¡± offered Cal, propping his elbow on the table and leaning his head against his hand.


    Ram nodded again. ¡°Everyone is very nice, though Aina can be a little pushy sometimes¡­ oh! She¡¯s nice too, of course. I think she¡¯s just, you know-¡±


    ¡°I know what you mean,¡± Cal responded, his eyes hovering on Ram¡¯s face as if trying to study it. ¡°You don¡¯t need to add amendments to every statement you say, Ram. It¡¯s as if you expect me to interpret every word in the worst possible way.¡±


    Ram lowered her eyes. ¡°Sorry¡­¡±


    ¡®You¡­ you don¡¯t have to apologize for that.¡±


    There was a silence between them that was a little awkward. Cal was beginning to regret disturbing Ram in the first place. His bad mood had intensified, making him more blunt than he usually was.


    ¡°Can I ask you a question, Ram?¡±


    Ram looked up. Cal¡¯s voice was a little different than she was used to. She associated his voice with gentleness and patience, which was why she felt she was able to relax around him during their conversations, at least compared to others. Now there was a sliver of coldness to it. She looked at him directly and was surprised by how his eyes looked. The deep dark blue of his eyes, which had always resembled to her a calming ocean at night, solidified into something unfamiliar.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Ram breathed, nervous for a reason she couldn¡¯t quite understand.


    Cal¡¯s eyes bore into her. ¡°Do you¡­ dislike talking with me?¡±


    Ram¡¯s throat tightened, making her voice even quieter and fragile than it typically was. ¡°What?¡±


    Cal sighed and rubbed a finger aimlessly along the wooden table that separated them. ¡°It¡¯s fine if that¡¯s the case, I won¡¯t be offended. I only ask because you always seem uncomfortable around me, like you¡¯re being cornered. If I¡¯m bothering you, I''ll leave.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Ram put her hands adamantly on the table, laying down flat the comic book she had been hiding. Her voice was more solid and impassioned than Cal had heard before. ¡°No! ¡­I mean, it¡¯s not that. I like talking with you, really. I just¡­ don¡¯t know how¡­¡±


    ¡°How to talk?¡±


    ¡°How to be¡­ human.¡±


    There was another awkward pause. The laughter of the students in the common area floated through the air, punctuating the silence.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Cal asked at last.


    ¡°Talking with others¡­¡± Ram said, uncertainly. ¡°Being with others, that sort of thing. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t want to do both but¡­ I just don¡¯t know how. I never¡­ got an opportunity.¡±


    Ram shook her head, admonishing herself. ¡°No, sorry. I¡¯m being weird again. It¡¯s just¡­ I care about what others think of me, I suppose. I think about that sort of thing all the time.¡±


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    ¡°And that¡¯s why you¡¯re always so timid and nervous?¡± asked Cal.


    Ram looped a blond curl around her finger subconsciously. ¡°I think so. I¡¯m scared that people will see right through me if I say the wrong thing, the strange thing. They¡¯ll see the real me. And that makes every conversation, every interaction¡­ a sort of test. I¡¯m not good at tests. I flake under pressure.¡±


    ¡°What do you think people will see when they see the real you?¡±


    Ram¡¯s eyes narrowed in distress. ¡°Weakness. A¡­ a person who never had enough strength to learn about and be relied on by others.¡±


    Cal digested this.


    ¡°We¡¯re the same, I think,¡± he said slowly.


    ¡°No,¡± insisted Ram, ¡°that¡¯s not true. You¡¯re comfortable with everyone ¡ª you get along with everyone. Everyone at Otter Manor is so different and vibrant¡­ but you sort of accept it all¡­ You make it work. You learn how to deal with them. I¡¯ve watched you¡­ N-not watched you, but saw you¡­ now and again¡­ Me, on the other hand-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Cal interrupted, despite himself. He held up a palm in apology and began again. ¡°I don¡¯t mean we are the same in manner. I mean we¡¯re the same in type. We don¡¯t know how to interact with others ¡ª how to be human, as you put it. The only difference is that you care too much about what others think of you, while I couldn¡¯t care less.¡±


    Ram tilted her head, not understanding his meaning.


    Cal¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°I gave up trying to do that a long time ago. How to please others, how to make them like you¡­ I never got it right.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡± Ram said again, eyes shining with determination, almost challenging Cal. ¡°The other girls at the manor¡­ they like you a lot ¡ª Mel and Bridget. Anyone can see that¡­ even me. Ellie thinks highly of you, too. Aina, well¡­ s-she¡¯s different, but I think she doesn¡¯t dislike you as much as she pretends. They¡¯ve¡­ accepted you, there.¡±


    ¡°Because I accepted them, as you said.¡± Cal¡¯s voice was strangely distant. He seemed to be looking at something above Ram¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯m good at that ¡ª accepting, I mean. Taking stock of what¡¯s in front of me, that¡¯s my talent. My primary personality cornerstone. But it¡¯s not the same thing as understanding.¡±


    Cal paused. He looked into Ram¡¯s eyes, which were narrowed in anxiety. He tried to smile, to put her a little at ease, so she would understand more of what he was trying to say.


    Aren¡¯t you scared of anything?


    For some reason, Mel¡¯s indignant words from long ago came to Cal¡¯s mind at this moment, as he searched for what to say to Ram.


    ¡°I can tell you that Mel is sadder than she pretends,¡± he began. ¡°I can tell you that Ellie hides a lot from all of us, despite how open she appears to be. That Bridget is the kindest out of everyone and that the so-called princess is mostly constructed out of a tiresome act. But for what they think of me, and what I think of them¡­¡±


    Cal shrugged. ¡°I couldn¡¯t say. I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Then he smiled, though to Ram it seemed to have no sincere warmth in it. ¡°Bridget likes me? That¡¯s good to know. I wasn¡¯t sure, since she¡¯s so polite to everyone by nature.¡±


    Ram¡¯s mouth was gaping open in indignation. ¡°You¡­ didn¡¯t notice anything? I thought¡­ it was so obvious¡­ she¡¯s always so affectionate towards you.¡±


    ¡°I noticed,¡± Cal said shortly, ¡°but I didn¡¯t understand.¡±


    His dark blue eyes seemed lost in some memory. Ram had the impression that he was thinking about something long ago, that he would hold to his chest and never tell her.


    ¡°Human emotions¡­¡± Cal said quietly. ¡°They are strange and incomprehensible things, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    Ram looked at him for a moment, trying to see the person he truly was for the first time ¡ª not just the gentle person she had built up in her head who had made delicious food and passed her encouraging notes from behind a door. ¡°Y-yeah,¡± she said at last, finally removing her hands from the table. ¡°Yeah, they really are.¡±


    Another silence. More laughter from the distance ¡ª the indifference of the world.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Cal said, flipping over the comic book that Ram had left on the table.


    ¡°O-oh,¡± Ram was still trying to process the unexpected conversation she had had with Cal, and therefore forgot to even blush when the subject of her embarrassment was brought up. ¡°It¡¯s a comic book, a superhero comic book. They have a wide collection here at the library.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± said Cal, flipping the comic open. Inside were bright and passionate illustrations of a superhero team (all in different colored outfits) fighting aliens from space with their bravery and the power of their bonds. ¡°You like this sort of thing?¡±


    Ram allowed herself a toothy smile. Her brown eyes lit up. ¡°Yeah, I do. I like stories about good versus evil, where the heroes have iron-clad ideals and never give up. It¡¯s simple and unrealistic¡­ b-but I like it. When I read about people like that, it gives me courage.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± said Cal again. He was studying a certain panel: the hero in the red outfit was posing on top of a building, ready to descend upon the bad guys below. Then he flipped back to the front. ¡°What¡¯s this comic called?¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to get to know me?¡± said Ram. The words came out before she could help herself, and she was surprised at their boldness. ¡°Or is that just words? Something you noticed but don¡¯t¡­ understand?¡±


    Cal looked up. He was taken aback, and then he sighed. ¡°Maybe. But that¡¯s never stopped me from trying.¡±


    A little while later, Cal was outside, in the center of the university campus. He tapped on the shoulder of a tall guy with long dark hair who was sitting on the rim of a fountain.


    The guy looked up. ¡°Hey. You¡¯re late, man.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Sirius.¡± said Cal, ¡°still want to get poutine from the food truck?¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± said Sirius, straightening up to his full height. He was a lanky sort of person, with mischievous green eyes and straight black hair that fell past his shoulders. ¡°What kept you?¡±


    ¡°Ran into one of my tenants at the library, and kinda lost track of time.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s unusual for you,¡± commented Sirius, ¡°who? The- um, the tall girl, with the dreadlocks? I¡¯ve seen her around. What¡¯s her name, Ellie?¡±


    ¡°No, it was Ram,¡± responded Cal, ¡°I don¡¯t think you know her, she only takes online classes-¡±


    ¡°Short, big blond curly hair, pretty?¡± Sirius cut in.


    ¡°Yeah, how¡¯d you know?¡±


    ¡°Seen her at the library, sometimes,¡± Sirius said, not elaborating. ¡°Hey, you''re going to bring me around like you promised, aren¡¯t you? You said the place is like authentic 19th-century architecture, right? You gotta let me check it out. We¡¯ve got nothing like that in this ¡®modern¡¯ city.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± said Cal, ¡°it¡¯s just hard to coordinate. How are you with ghosts and princesses from other worlds?¡±


    ¡°Depends,¡± said the other boy, who had begun to tie his long hair in a ponytail to keep it out of his eyes. ¡°Are we talking like a Casper ghost or one from The Shining? Because I don¡¯t do creepy twins.¡±


    ¡°...You know, you might get along with her. You two have similar taste in movies.¡±


    ¡°Seriously?¡±

 Chapter 18: Bridget Wants To Help

    [October 4, 2042]


    It was after dinner, and Cal had just finished washing the dishes. As usual, Bridget had offered to help him, and as usual, he declined, insisting that she ought to let him do the job he was being paid for as housekeeper of Otter Manor. Cal took a certain pride in his work. It was why he insisted on doing all the laundry, on cleaning windows, on not letting anyone but himself vacuum or straighten up the rooms of the manor. He only tolerated Bridget cooking in the morning because he knew that she liked to make a little meal for herself to help stave off the boredom of a long sleepless night.


    It wasn¡¯t from a feeling of misguided emasculation that he denied the girls from helping him with his chores, but rather one of misguided guilt, born from the deepest depths of his psychology. He attached his own value to the work, to completing it, to completing it well. So, every evening after dinner, Cal would usher the girls out of the kitchen so he could clean up by himself.


    Aina would leave without being prompted, leaving her dirty dishes on the table without even bringing them up to the sink ¡ª the byproduct of never once in her life having needed to clean up after herself. Ram would dip her head silently and scurry out of the room, like a cockroach fleeing from a spotlight, not out of an unwillingness to help Cal but rather because pushing back against another¡¯s request terrified her even more than appearing rude. Ellie would sometimes make a show of insisting on staying behind (at least to wash her own dishes) but clearly would be glad to abandon Cal to his work at the slightest insistence ¡ª she would practically skip out of the kitchen with a carefree ¡°thanks boss!¡± on her way back up to her room. And Bridget, of course, as she did every night, would stay behind and try to help.


    At first, this repetition of denying his wishes annoyed Cal, but he quickly came to understand that Bridget¡¯s motivations in her behavior were similar to his own. They were both people who felt most comfortable when completing physical actions that achieved physical results: it put them at rest and made them feel accomplished. He wondered how much of Bridget¡¯s selfless nature was a byproduct of an entire life serving a spoiled princess ¡ª a life built around attending to the needs of a person who wasn¡¯t yourself. He sometimes thought about what Bridget would be like if the roles were reversed: if she was the high-born princess of Luvinia instead of a simple attendant. Would then the more selfish and arrogant sides of her personality be exasperated? Would she behave as Aina did, seemingly without care or consideration for others?


    No, he decided. She doesn¡¯t care about or attend to others because of her position, or because it is what she is supposed to do. It¡¯s just how Bridget is. She¡¯s a kind person, I suppose.


    Their battle of wills had reached a stalemate. Every night, Bridget would insist on helping. Every night Cal would gently deny her request. She would nod, a little sadly, but wouldn¡¯t move from the kitchen. She would watch Cal clear the table, wash the dishes with soap and hot water, and then put the dishes or cutlery on the drying rack over the sink. She would cross her hands in front of herself, one palm on top of the knuckles, with a somewhat anxious look in her brown eyes. Her head leaned forward slightly, letting her long brown hair slide down over her shoulders. In this posture she often adopted, Bridget seemed like a sad little kid who had been put into timeout and wasn¡¯t able to play with the others.


    This particular night, Cal couldn¡¯t take it anymore. Once he finished drying the final dish and placed it down, he turned to Bridget, who had been in the corner not moving for the past ten or so minutes.


    ¡°I know you mean well,¡± he said, trying to keep judgment out of his voice, ¡°but as I said before, it¡¯s awkward to have someone watch.¡±


    ¡°I thought you might need help, Mr. Cal,¡± Bridget responded, her eyes still lowered in almost a shy way.


    ¡°I don¡¯t. I think you know that.¡±


    Bridget didn¡¯t say anything for a moment. Despite her advanced height, she seemed to be shrinking with nervousness. It wasn¡¯t something Cal was used to seeing from the princess¡¯ attendant. It was a manner that almost resembled Ram in its aspect.


    ¡°I do, Mr. Cal,¡± she said, pursing her lips, ¡°but I wouldn¡¯t feel comfortable leaving you alone until I¡¯m certain that you won¡¯t need any assistance.¡±


    Cal opened his mouth to argue back, but decided halfway to change his tactic. He crossed the room, tossing the wet cloth he had been holding in his hands into the sink, and sat down at the dining table. He then gestured for Bridget to do the same, which she did.


    Even sitting down, Bridget somewhat towered over Cal.


    Cal picked at the cuticle of his thumb for a moment, trying to decide how to word his question. ¡°This is somewhat rhetorical,¡± he began, ¡°but you do know that we¡¯re peers, right? I¡¯m not from your world, and am not bound by the same kinds of expectations.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s mouth opened in surprise. ¡°Of course, I know that.¡±


    She sounded almost offended. Her brown eyes narrowed, unsure of where this conversation was going.


    Cal nodded. ¡°Well, if you understand that, you should know that we¡¯re¡­ you know¡­ equals. You don¡¯t have to address me with undue respect or assist me with tasks that I am contractually obligated to complete. Because I¡¯m just an ordinary person, so¡­¡±


    Cal trailed off. He could tell by the further narrowing of Bridget¡¯s attentive brown eyes that she was losing track of what he was trying to say. In truth, he was getting lost in the weeds himself.


    I thought¡­ it was so obvious¡­ she''s always so affectionate towards you. Ram''s words echoed in his head.


    Cal swallowed, trying to prevent a slight blush from coloring his cheeks.


    ¡°What I mean to say is¡­ Ms. Bridget¡­ we¡¯re friends, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    Bridget flinched. She placed one of her hands over her large chest and took a deep breath. Then she nodded, unable to keep a look of satisfaction from coming over her face. ¡°Yes, Mr. Cal.¡± She smiled. ¡°We¡¯re good friends.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Cal nervously scratched the back of his head, freeing some dandruff from his dark hair. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if I was being presumptuous.¡±


    ¡°I would say we have gotten well acquainted in the past month, and I think we enjoy one another¡¯s company. We have had several conversations where we have revealed personal details about each other. I told you about my affliction of never being able to sleep, and in response, you have personally altered the schedule of your sleep so you can talk with me every morning.¡±


    Bridget nodded to herself, as she rattled off these things with a matter-of-fact voice. ¡°Not presumptuous at all, Mr. Cal. I would worry about your standards if after all that you still did not consider us at least casual confidants.¡±


    Cal scratched the back of his head again. It¡¯s a little embarrassing when you spell it out so plainly.


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    ¡°Well, good,¡± he said, ¡°...so, I want people I consider my friends to be comfortable and at ease. I want to do what I can to trouble them as little as possible, and to not put unnecessary burdens on them¡­ I guess.¡±


    Cal sighed. ¡°So¡­ what I¡¯m trying to say is¡­ when I¡¯m cleaning up dinner¡­ I don¡¯t want you to help me, or to be more precise, I don¡¯t want you to feel obligated to help me. Preparing food and cleaning up afterward is part of my job ¡ª yes, of course ¡ª but since we¡¯re friends, doing this myself is a way for me to express that I¡¯m glad to do it if it means you are less troubled.¡±


    He looked at Bridget, lights dancing in his dark eyes. She had tilted her head slightly and was listening attentively. ¡°You seem¡­ to have a lot on your plate already, Ms. Bridget. I don¡¯t want to add to the pile, even something minor.¡±


    Bridget studied him for a second, with a single one of her long fingers resting on her pursed lips. ¡°You surprise me constantly.¡±


    Cal blinked. ¡°Do I?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Bridget nodded, not elaborating. Instead, she brushed a strand of her brown hair away from her temples. ¡°If I may say, Mr. Cal, your definition of friendship is lacking a certain principle of reciprocity. What you describe is a person that people tolerate, who makes themselves scarce, not one who is treated as an equal. In my opinion, those who consider one another friends are so because they do rely, they do trouble, they do presume when it is perhaps not their place to. They are peers, as you said. They share words, emotions, and inconveniences.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Cal said slowly, ¡°I just want you to not treat me the way you would Aina, for instance. As someone you¡¯re obligated to assist-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re being a little silly, don¡¯t you think?¡± interrupted Bridget, who had pressed her finger onto her lips with a little strength. ¡°Oh, if I may say that, Mr. Cal. Friend-to-friend. I¡¯ve heard pushing back against misguided assumptions is a necessary part of a friendship.¡±


    She smiled for a moment, as if surprised by her own joke, and then continued with renewed seriousness. ¡°My relationship with my lady is¡­ complex and not one I feel needs to be elaborated upon at this time. But yes, when I serve her ¡ª preparing her clothes, meals, or tea ¡ª I do so partially out of an obligation, well, a curse in truth, as I previously told you. This is an oversimplification, but it is undoubtedly true.¡±


    Bridget fixed Cal with a stare, leaning her tall body towards him slightly. ¡°However, Mr. Cal, I would like to make clear this is not all there is to it. Primarily driving my actions, as in everything I do, are feelings of care and endearment. Those are the feelings I hold for you, and I intend to make that clear.¡±


    She winked. ¡°Are they?¡±


    Cal swallowed. ¡°Yeah, crystal clear.¡±


    Then he let himself grin. ¡°It¡¯s easy to forget because you¡¯re typically so polite, but you¡¯re rather formidable, Ms. Bridget.¡±


    Bridget smiled in response, and leaned back in her chair, letting her body take on a more casual posture. The golden buttons of her uniform glittered in the light of the kitchen. It was night outside, and a somewhat loud chilly breeze was blowing against the windows. However, the atmosphere inside the room had become calm and warm, almost domestic.


    Cal got himself a glass of water and then sat back down at the table. ¡°You have convinced me, Ms. Bridget. You can help me clear the table and wash dishes in the evenings after dinner. But on professional pride, I have to insist upon being left to my own devices concerning basic household chores and maintenance.¡±


    Bridget nodded slyly, a note of playful irony in her voice. ¡°How generous of you, Mr. Cal. I suppose I can make do with such a compromise.¡±


    ¡°Do you simply enjoy helping others?¡±


    ¡°Nothing so selfless. The feeling of having helped, of lessening the worries of a person ¡ª that is what I get satisfaction out of.¡±


    Their banter was interrupted by a sound from the hall. They both turned to see a man with curly dark hair enter the room, wrapped up in a winter coat and scarf. It took a moment for Cal to register the man¡¯s presence, after which he immediately rose. ¡°Mr. Frost, sorry.¡±


    ¡°Call me Isaac, remember?¡± replied Isaac Frost softly, untangling his scarf and laying it over one arm. ¡°You got my texts about our meeting today, yes? I hope my intrusion wasn¡¯t unexpected.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Cal felt a little bit thrown off for a moment. There was something about the particular blueness of Isaac¡¯s eyes that gave off a vivid sense of familiarity, in a way that hadn¡¯t been present when he had first met the owner. ¡°Of course, I just thought you would be there another hour.¡±


    Isaac¡¯s intelligent eyes flickered between Cal and Bridget, who was still sitting down and looking a little nervous. ¡°Work ended early, so I thought I¡¯d swing by before it got too cold. It¡¯s supposed to hail a little tonight, and I¡¯d rather not get caught in it. I hope I¡¯m not interrupting anything.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s cheeks reddened just slightly, and she awkwardly interlaced her fingers. ¡°No, of course not, Mr. Frost-¡±


    ¡°-Isaac.¡±


    ¡°-myself and Mr. Cal were just having a casual discussion.¡±


    The corner of Isaac¡¯s mouth twisted into something almost resembling a smile, which looked odd on his typically melancholy demeanor. ¡°Mr. Cal?¡± he repeated to himself and turned to Cal. ¡°I hope you have told the young lady your actual last name, Cal.¡±


    ¡°Um-¡± Cal said, unsure of how to respond, but he needn¡¯t have said anything, because Isaac was already addressing Bridget again.


    ¡°I recognize such exceptional manners from our discussion over the phone,¡± Isaac said, outstretching a pale, almost sickly-looking hand. ¡°You must be Miss Dornlathe.¡±


    Bridget blushed again, rising to her feet (she was taller than the man by almost a head¡¯s length) and shook his hand. ¡°Y-yes, that¡¯s right, sir.¡±


    Isaac¡¯s eyes looked over her unusual uniform and the big buttons adorning her chest, and seemed to make a private decision not to bring it to attention. Perhaps he thought it was some sort of cosplay.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to put a name to the face,¡± he said, ¡°are you enjoying the accommodations well? I understand that you came from quite a distant place, so I wasn¡¯t sure if you would be comfortable in my father¡¯s unusual notion of a home.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a transition, but I¡¯m settling in well, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Isaac said plainly. He turned his tired-looking eyes towards Cal. ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting in the entry hall, whenever you¡¯re ready to talk.¡±


    Cal awkwardly bowed his head. ¡°Yes sir. I¡¯ll just be a moment.¡±


    Isaac nodded, stretched his neck, and then departed the room, his scarf still hanging loosely over one arm.


    Bridget followed his departure with her gaze. ¡°That¡¯s the owner of the establishment?¡±


    Cal nodded. ¡°My boss and your benefactor. He doesn¡¯t come around very often, but I guess today he wanted to check in since it has been about a month since I started working here. He messaged me on FoxChat this morning.¡±


    Bridget still didn¡¯t look away. ¡°I had a curious impression like I¡¯d seen him somewhere before, but that¡¯s not possible.¡±


    ¡°You talked with him over the phone?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Bridget, finally sitting back down and facing Cal again. ¡°Briefly, the night before myself and my lady arrived. Things were touch-and-go for a while, though my lady¡¯s grandfather made the arrangements.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you knew how to use a phone,¡± Cal said.


    Bridget shrugged. ¡°My lady¡¯s grandfather instructed me. It¡¯s not so difficult when you¡¯re shown properly.¡± She looked at Cal with a different sort of expression. ¡°What¡¯s your last name?¡±


    Cal flinched, pretending not to hear her. ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°Your surname, what is it?¡±


    Cal considered lying for a moment and then let out a big sigh. ¡°Clermont.¡±


    Laughter played along Bridget¡¯s lips, and she crossed her arms. ¡°Why so shy, Mr. Cal?¡±


    Cal frowned, debating whether to hit the emergency eject button on this conversation. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t like my name very much.¡±


    ¡°Is Cal short for something? I always wondered.¡±


    ¡°Do I¡­ need to tell you that?¡±


    Bridget grinned. ¡°Only if we¡¯re friends.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re truly formidable,¡± said Cal again, shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s Pascal. My full name is Pascal Clermont. You have to promise not to tell any of the other girls.¡±


    Bridget laughed softly, in a way that was gentle rather than mocking. ¡°Whatever for? It¡¯s a fine name.¡±


    ¡®It¡¯s a little much for me.¡±


    Another laugh. ¡°Okay, Mr. Pascal. Very well.¡±


    ¡°Please, I get enough teasing from Mel, Ms. Bridget.¡±

 Chapter 19: Isaac Has Her Eyes

    [October 4, 2042]


    Isaac Frost was not a happy-looking man. His dark curly hair fell gloomily over his forehead in a way that suggested he didn¡¯t take great care in either washing or brushing it. His face, still technically that of a relatively young man yet to reach middle age, was pale and lined, suggesting an inner anxiety or distress. His bright blue eyes ought to have been lively and inquisitive due to the unusual vividness of their color, but they lacked a certain luster to properly animate them. For whatever reason, he wasn¡¯t wearing his rounded glasses today, which made this effect much more noticeable.


    Despite this, Isaac Frost held himself with a certain dignity that ensured those in his company weren¡¯t impeded by his melancholy. It was present in the stitches of his face and the movements of his body, but never as an energy that was projected outwards. It was for this reason that Cal always felt comfortable in his presence, and why when he emerged into the entry hall of Otter Manor to see Isaac sitting in one of the leather chairs, he didn¡¯t feel the apprehension that would typically be present when in the company of an older adult.


    Cal took a chair across from Isaac, and the man fixed a comforting gaze on him.


    ¡°No need for tenseness, this isn¡¯t really a work-related visit,¡± Isaac said in his soft voice, ¡°and regardless, I¡¯ll be out of your hair soon. There are some things I need to take care of back at home.¡±


    Cal nodded in acknowledgment.


    ¡°I just thought I¡¯d exercise my duty of care,¡± said Isaac, brushing a black curl of hair away from his eyes, ¡°so let me ask you Cal ¡ª you¡¯re about a month into your tenure as caretaker of Otter Manor ¡ª how do you feel? How is my father¡¯s old house treating you?¡±


    Isaac took a second to look nostalgically around him at the furnishing of the room: at the wooden pillars, the carpets, and the staircase.


    ¡°It¡¯s been treating me well, sir.¡±


    ¡°Before I opened it up to tenants, I had a bunch of repairs done,¡± Isaac traced the armrest of his leather chair with a finger, ¡°fixing holes in the attic, trimming the grass, replacing some windows, that sort of thing. It had been more or less unoccupied for the last quarter-century, as you know, so obviously some things had to be done to make it comfortable. However, I didn¡¯t want to change too much about my father''s home ¡ª that sense of antique sincerity that he so admired.¡±


    Isaac¡¯s eyes twinkled with a little levity, a sort of fond recollection of a certain memory. ¡°Though I¡¯m afraid that means you don¡¯t have so many amenities here. I understand most modern student accommodations have things like robot cleaners and automatic lighting and screen projections on various surfaces. It hasn¡¯t been too much of a hassle, has it?¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Cal with sincerity, ¡°to be honest, I didn¡¯t really have access to a lot of those kinds of amenities growing up, so living somewhere like Otter Manor suits me fine. Oh, and the tenants here seem to feel the same way. I don¡¯t think many of them had very typical upbringings.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Isaac said, in a way that suggested the conversation had reached a point he had originally aimed to address, ¡°I meant to ask about that, actually. The way things have shaken out, you¡¯re the only boy currently living here with four girls. Has¡­ that been fine for you? There is no discomfort or tension? It must be awkward, sometimes.¡±


    Cal shrugged. ¡°It hasn¡¯t been a concern, sir. In fact, I think the atmosphere has only gotten more amenable over the last month. It¡¯s been an adjustment, but I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any reason for you to be worried.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad,¡± Isaac murmured, leaning back in his chair, ¡°when I first had this idea to actually occupy this place, I had a fear that it would somehow go terribly wrong. I suppose I¡¯m still caught up in myself, after all this time. My father would be glad to hear that, Cal. All he ever wanted was for young people to live happy and long lives.¡±


    Cal wasn¡¯t sure how to respond. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss, sir.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Isaac blinked, his perpetually melancholic expression replaced for a moment by surprise. ¡°Oh, I must have given you the wrong impression. Thank you for your empathy, but it¡¯s all ancient history. My father passed away the same year my family stopped living in this house, twenty-five years ago.¡±


    Cal looked at Isaac, taking note of the man¡¯s age. He wasn¡¯t an extremely young man, but twenty-five years ago he would have been barely a teenager ¡ª surely ¡ª unless he was older than he looked. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that. I-¡±


    Cal paused, debating internally for a second whether this was information he wanted to disclose. ¡°-I lost my father when I was very young, so I know how difficult that must have been.¡±


    Isaac¡¯s eyes filled with compassion. ¡°You¡¯re still very young. I¡¯m sorry that happened to you. Were you raised by your mother?¡±


    ¡°No, she died too.¡±


    There was a pause before Cal realized the effects of his words. ¡°Oh, but it¡¯s okay!¡± He said, trying to soften the blow. ¡°I got adopted, and some other stuff happened, but it¡¯s okay now. I¡¯m close with my adoptive older sister. In fact, she drove me here my first day ¡ª she saw me off, so to speak.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve had a difficult time. It¡¯s brave of you to speak of it.¡±


    Cal nodded, unable to meet Isaac¡¯s eyes. He felt very self-conscious and was desperate to change the subject.


    Isaac seemed to pick up on his young companion¡¯s reticence and quickly turned the conversation back to himself. ¡°You were perceptive to pick up on my age at the time of my father¡¯s passing. I was very young, as was he ¡ª but it all happened so quickly. You see, I had an older-¡±


    He paused here for some reason, as if he had forgotten his own story. Then he began again. ¡°I had an older sibling, and they were¡­ very sick. They had always been very sick, in truth. When they passed, my father¡­ couldn¡¯t handle it. The few months before my sibling''s passing were stressful and difficult. He would cry all the time, day in and day out, practically without pause. My father was a very sweet man, Cal, and he felt things very strongly. Losing a child was the last straw after many weeks of grief and emotional turmoil.¡±


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    Isaac closed his eyes for a moment. ¡°He died a month after the funeral. Stress-related heart attack. And that was it.¡±


    Cal¡¯s mouth was dry. He didn¡¯t know what to say in response to all this. Furthermore, the details of Isaac¡¯s story had finally clicked together some puzzle pieces in his head ¡ª an obvious connection that he ought to have put together weeks ago, and the realization was making his mind race.


    Isaac shook his head and rose to his feet. ¡°I apologize, I didn¡¯t come here to tell some old sad stories. I¡¯m glad you''re settling in well here, Cal. I hope this can be a place where you can live without anxiety or discontent. I could hope for nothing more. That knowledge would help me make peace with this old house.¡±


    He looked around again at the room. ¡°I would like this place to be one of happiness, unlike what it has been for me.¡±


    Isaac nodded in the direction of Cal and extended a pale hand. For a moment, Cal couldn¡¯t react because of the swimming of his head, but he eventually got to his feet and shook the man¡¯s hand. Isaac then replaced the winter coat he had hung on the stand by the front door, carefully wrapped his scarf around his neck, and nodded in Cal¡¯s direction.


    ¡°Have a good evening, Cal,¡± Isaac said in a slightly hoarse voice.


    ¡°...You too, sir.¡±


    The door opened. The sliver of night sky Ca could see was full of white stars, like a field of wide-open eyeballs peering through a black curtain.


    The door closed. Cal was alone in the entry hall.


    A few minutes later, Cal still hadn¡¯t left the room. He had sat back down in one of the leather chairs ¡ª one by the window. The table next to him had a chess set placed on it, the one he had played with Aina.


    He felt tired.


    ¡°You¡¯re still here?¡± said a voice from directly above Cal.


    Cal looked up to see a freckled face peering out from the ceiling. The blue eyes glittered.


    ¡°There you are,¡± Cal said, turning his head to look out the window at the quiet night, ¡°you¡¯ve been hiding all day.¡±


    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t!¡± Mel said, affronted. She glided down from the ceiling and nestled in the air next to Cal, the ends of her white sundress moving around her legs as if pushed by an invisible wind.


    ¡°You have,¡± Cal insisted, ¡°ever since Isaac texted me this morning. You barely left our room. You were quiet too, which tipped me off that something was probably wrong.¡±


    ¡°I can be quiet,¡± Mel replied. Despite the ironically combative nature of her words, her voice was a little hesitant, as if she already knew what Cal was driving at.


    Cal sighed, still staring out the window.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said finally.


    Mel blinked, her eyes wide. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I should have been nicer to you, I guess.¡±


    She drifted closer to him, positioning herself between Cal and the window. The ghost was putting her body through the glass so that the back end of her body was actually outside the house. Cal, who had been staring at the window, now had no choice but to look at Mel¡¯s face.


    Mel leaned her head closer to Cal, as if she intended to press her forehead against his own. ¡°Did something happen?¡± she said gently.


    ¡°You told me, you told me the first day that we met where you died,¡± Cal said, still not quite meeting Mel¡¯s eyes. ¡°I suppose I didn¡¯t take you very seriously, or maybe I thought you were lying for the sake of presentation.¡±


    Finally, he raised his dark eyes to look into hers.


    ¡°This house was your father¡¯s, wasn¡¯t it?¡± He said, almost in an ashamed way. ¡°You died here. Isaac¡¯s your-¡±


    ¡°My little brother, yeah.¡± Mel tenderly took his hand. Cal flinched at the contact: the unexpected warmth and solidity of her body. ¡°You figured it out, finally. You¡¯re pretty smart, but I guess not that smart.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I suppose so,¡± Cal said with an expel of air halfway between humor in response to Mel¡¯s words and frustration with himself. ¡°That¡¯s why you were keeping to yourself. You didn¡¯t want him to see you.¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be fair to him,¡± Mel replied, tracing the indentations of Cal¡¯s palm with a finger, ¡°he deserves¡­ he deserves the chance to move on, after all these years.¡±


    She laughed humorlessly. ¡°It was quite a surprise, when I¡­ woke up for the first time, to see him all grown up, fixing up the place, greeting Ellie and Ram when they moved into the house ¡ª our house. He was such a little kid, and quiet even back then. Now he¡¯s tall and fully grown, unlike me.¡±


    Mel anxiously patted the top of her own head, brushing down the short dark hairs. ¡°We were born eight years apart, you know. He was the baby of the family. So, I always wanted to be a good example for him, someone he could look up to. I wanted to be cool and pretty and good at everything.¡± The remnants of her smile faded. ¡°I¡¯m glad he¡¯s okay ¡ª that he¡¯s alright. Mom is still alive, she can take care of him. He doesn¡¯t have a need for old ghosts¡­ not that he would even recognize¡­¡±


    She broke off, seemingly to suddenly become cognizant of the way she was holding Cal¡¯s hand. She released and timely hid her hands behind her back, but didn''t move from his side.


    ¡°Isaac said you were sick¡­¡± Cal breathed.


    Mel lowered her head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it. About how I was when I was alive. From before I met you.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± asked Cal.


    She shrugged, looking at the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It feels strange, almost inappropriate. I don¡¯t¡­ want you to think about me that way.¡± She paused. ¡°Maybe one day I¡¯ll tell you. And you can tell me all about yourself, too. But not yet.¡±


    Cal bit his lip and nodded. ¡°Okay¡­ if you won¡¯t think of me any differently, either.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a promise.¡± Mel poked Cal¡¯s cheek with a soft finger, which made him refocus his gaze on her. ¡°For now, just treat like you always have: as your adorable and elegant ghost roommate.¡±


    A smile came to Cal¡¯s lips: a genuine one. ¡°That''s quite a generous self-assessment.¡±


    ¡°Hush,¡± she poked his cheek again. ¡°You¡¯re such a jerk. Come on, let¡¯s go upstairs. We can watch a movie later ¡ª you still haven¡¯t watched a proper ghost movie.¡±


    Cal shook his head, but let himself be led to his feet and towards the staircase. ¡°Don¡¯t we need to finish that killer goblin movie franchise first? We¡¯re on the fifth one.¡±


    ¡°Shoot, you¡¯re right. We also need Ellie with us to finish those, she really got invested in the story.¡±


    They paused at the foot of the staircase.


    ¡°It¡¯s scary, revealing more about yourself,¡± Mel said. ¡°Remember when I told you that I wanted to go outside? That was so frightening. My heart was beating out of my chest, however that works. I felt so anxious it was like I was going to be sick.¡±


    Cal nodded. ¡°I know. I get scared too ¡ª about those kinds of things.¡±


    ¡°Liar, you¡¯re not scared of anything. You¡¯re like an automaton. Nothing phases you.¡±


    ¡°If¡­ only that were true.¡±


    Mel twirled her body in front of him, putting herself between Cal and the staircase. She wasn¡¯t floating, instead, her bare feet danced over the carpet, walking upon it like she was a normal girl. She smiled.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad it was you who saw me first,¡± she said.


    Cal tilted his head. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Mel skipped up the first few steps and turned back to face him. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about it some other time.¡±

 Chapter 20: Cal Takes a Sick Day

    [October 7, 2042]


    It was Bridget Abigail Dornlathe who first noticed that something was wrong with the caretaker of Otter Manor. When he first descended the stairs, the purple light of early morning sketching lines in his dark hair, his face had a pronounced pallor she wasn¡¯t used to seeing. He took the stairs one step at a time, gingerly holding his side, and only grunted in acknowledgment when Bridget called out to him with an infectious enthusiasm: ¡°Good morning, Mr. Cal!¡± ¡ª as she did every morning.


    When she noticed his clear discomfort, Bridget frowned. She stepped forward and held Cal¡¯s shoulder, a tender touch he did not withdraw from. This surprised Bridget ¡ª she had come to realize over time that the boy she lived with didn¡¯t like physical contact much in general. After shaking Cal¡¯s hand the day after she had met him, Bridget had been careful to not repeat any possibly unwanted contact.


    In fact, out of all the girls in the house, Bridget had only ever seen Mel touch Cal. The ghost would poke his cheeks, absent-mindedly play with his hair, even casually hold his arm when the two watched movies in the living room some nights.


    It was a fact that Bridget had become increasingly cognizant of, and one that bothered her more than she would ever admit out loud to anyone else.


    So, when this morning Cal abruptly leaned against her in response to her outstretched hand, actually putting his body weight against her tall frame, Bridget made a squeaking noise somewhat unbecoming of a loyal and dignified attendant of a Luvinian princess.


    But before a flush even had time to color her cheeks, Bridget noticed something. Obscured by his height and the somewhat baggy dark clothes that he often wore, the person now leaning against her was far, far lighter than she expected ¡ª almost distressingly so. All skin and bone. His chest briefly touched her arm, and Bridget felt the distinct shape of his ribcage.


    She held Cal steady for a moment, as if balancing a ladder.


    He¡¯s so thin ¡ª far thinner than he should be, Bridget thought to herself, yet he eats every day with us, even if he takes only small portions¡­. What kind of diet did he have before coming to this place?


    ¡°Sorry Ms. Bridget,¡± muttered Cal, detaching himself from Bridget. He had dark circles around his eyes, like he had had trouble sleeping.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Mr. Cal,¡± Bridget said carefully.


    As she did every day, Bridget fetched tea from the kitchen, and the two sat together in the entry hall. However, instead of the typical comfortable conversation, they sipped their beverages in silence. To be more accurate, Bridget drank her tea, while Cal looked down at his own cup, as if he were unsure of what it was.


    ¡°I need to start making breakfast,¡± Cal said unexpectedly.


    He stood shakily.


    ¡°Mr. Cal, I really think¡­¡±


    Cal had already crossed the room and vanished down the hallway. Bridget shook her head and followed him. She watched with frustration as he attempted to begin to prepare breakfast for that day: it seemed he had planned a breakfast of hot oatmeal with blueberries and yogurt, judging by the ingredients he was now removing from the fridge and cupboards. As he reached for a kettle in which to boil water, he knocked it over. It clattered with a loud sound against the wooden floor.


    ¡°Shit,¡± he cursed tiredly, almost in a gentle voice, as if he wasn¡¯t used to using an explicative. The word sounded strange in his mouth.


    Bridget took a step towards him, her brown eyes fiery. ¡°Please Mr. Cal, you need to sit down for a moment! You could hurt yourself.¡±


    Cal shook his head, reaching downward to retrieve the empty kettle from the ground. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I need to finish making this¡­¡±


    ¡°Honestly, you¡¯re as bad as my lady when it comes to being stubborn,¡± said Bridget with exasperation. She had fully switched into ¡°professional attendant¡± mode. ¡°You two ought to bond about how you can be insistent over the most silly things. Now, do as you are told and sit down.


    Cal practically glared at her, but deciding it was the path of least resistance, took a seat at the dining room table. He was secretly grateful. It had been difficult while standing to keep his legs from shaking and an uncomfortable pressure from building in his head.


    Bridget leaned down in front of him so that their eyes were level. She pursed her lips. ¡°Excuse me,¡± she said matter-of-factly, and laid her palm upon Cal¡¯s forehead, brushing back his bangs. His hair was more oily than it typically was, and she could smell perspiration. He hadn¡¯t showered this morning. ¡°As I thought, a fever. Mr. Cal, you¡¯re clearly quite sick. You should go back to bed.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cal said in that same quiet voice. His words took on an almost automatic quality, as if he were reading from a script. ¡°I need to finish making breakfast for the tenants¡­¡±


    ¡°You are sick, Mr. Cal,¡± Bridget repeated, removing her hand. ¡°Has your sense left with your health? I can finish making breakfast.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°Do you suppose I am incapable of boiling some oats? Sit, Mr. Cal?¡± Bridget¡¯s voice had taken on a serious tone, as if scolding a child. ¡°Oatmeal will be good for your stomach. I¡¯ll leave off too much sweet fruit and yogurt in your serving. It is best to eat something bland when you¡¯re ill.¡±


    The next to enter the kitchen was Ellie, some minutes later. She burst into the kitchen as if she had been running from something, her dark braids bouncing and a wide smile on her face. She wasn¡¯t wearing her typical pajamas and was instead wearing casual jeans and a green form-fitting top. It was the sort of outfit a girl might wear when about to hang out with friends after dark.


    ¡°Morning, morning!¡± She chirped, slipping into a chair beside Cal. ¡°Bridget, you look beautiful as usual, and Cal, you¡¯re as imperturbable as-¡±


    She paused, frowning as she noticed the color of Cal¡¯s face and the sweat accumulating around his temples. ¡°-Woah there dude, you don¡¯t look so good.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sick,¡± croaked Cal, his voice barely audible. He had wrapped his clothes around himself tightly like a turtle retreating into its shell.


    ¡°He¡¯s sick,¡± Bridget repeated louder, sprinkling blueberries and dabbing yogurt on the portions of oatmeal. ¡°But he doesn¡¯t want to go upstairs and rest.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Ellie widened her eyes and scooted her chair a foot further away from Cal. ¡°You didn¡¯t strike me as the sort to get sick before anyone else, boss.¡±


    ¡°Sorry for disappointing you,¡± muttered Cal.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Ellie paused to smile at Bridget as the attendant placed her bowl of oatmeal in front of her and then turned back to Cal. ¡°You seem to me as the type to be the last one standing in a crisis, you know? One of the few left in an apocalypse scenario. Like if there¡¯s a zombie virus in the future¡­ or if aliens attack¡­ or¡­¡±


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    ¡°-or the dragons sleeping underneath the volcanoes of Luvinia all awaken at once, as foretold in the ancient prophecy,¡± offered Bridget, as she placed Cal¡¯s portion in front of him.


    ¡°Or that,¡± nodded Ellie, ¡°maybe it¡¯s just because you always act above any problem that happens to come along. You have a very patient and serious persona. I guess that¡¯s just the version of you in my head, though. In practice, it seems like you have the constitution of an ailing Victorian schoolboy.¡±


    ¡°Why am I getting made fun of for being sick?¡± Cal croaked.


    Ellie grinned, clearly delighted at her own sense of humor. ¡°Come on, I¡¯m just joking, boss. I wish you a speedy recovery.¡±


    ¡°Is that because I make the food?¡±


    ¡°Ahem,¡± said Ellie slyly, still unable to hide her grin, ¡°you have other uses¡­ probably.¡±


    Then she laughed, unable to hide her merriment. She finally took a bite of the oatmeal. ¡°Get well soon, Cal. Eat your oatmeal and then get upstairs. Rest assured, everyone in this house wants the best for you. There¡¯s nobody here that would actually take amusement in you being unwell.¡±


    ¡°What is this discussion? What is happening?¡± said a new voice.


    Aina ud Cormac had entered the kitchen, her scarlet hair shining with moisture from the shower and a beautiful silver-colored dress trailing behind her. She fixed her green eyes on Cal as she sat down at the foot of the table (as far as she could manage from him), clearly taking note of the unusual paleness of his face.


    ¡°Mr. Cal is feeling quite under the weather,¡± explained Bridget, dutifully placing Aina¡¯s portion of breakfast before the princess.


    Aina¡¯s eyes alighted with energy, and a self-satisfied smirk came over her features. ¡°Oh, how amusing! You have often mocked my refinement and delicate tastes, peasant, yet it appears like you are the one who is liable to crack under the exertions and difficulties of this realm!¡±


    She jutted her chin out. ¡°I win!¡±


    Cal stared at her with a nonplussed expression, as if he was debating internally every single one of his life-choices that had led him to presently being mocked by a spoiled princess for weakness of character (getting ill).


    ¡°Wait, what game are you two playing?¡± asked Ellie, confused.


    ¡°My lady,¡± said Bridget pointedly, as she sat down at the table herself. ¡°Mr. Cal is our host, and we ought to treat him politely when he is feeling unwell. It is unbecoming of a princess to take delight in the suffering of others.¡±


    Bridget adjusted her hair. ¡°We have spoken about this before, my lady.¡±


    All of Aina¡¯s self-satisfaction seemed to evaporate, and she shrunk back in her seat. ¡°I know that, Bridget,¡± she muttered, sullenly taking a bite of oatmeal. ¡°But this peasant has disrespected my eminence many times. I thought it only proper to take this opportunity to return the scorn.¡±


    ¡°The only eminence you hold is that of entitlement,¡± replied Cal thornily, not in the mood or state of health for Aina¡¯s typical behavior.


    ¡°See, just like that!¡± Aina jutted her spoon in Cal¡¯s direction, and some oats landed on the table. Bridget wiped them up with a napkin. ¡°You see how he speaks to me, Bridget?!¡±


    ¡°Enough my lady,¡±


    Bridget¡¯s voice had raised a register in chilliness, and Aina seemed to shrink even more. Bridget then fixed a warning glance at the entire table. Ellie shrugged, having done nothing wrong, and continued to eat her breakfast with delight and with relish.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± continued Bridget, ¡°typically Mr. Cal, if someone is sick in a household I happen to occupy I would do my best to attend to them, but unfortunately myself and my lady have some important business today that we simply cannot miss. My lady¡¯s grandfather is stopping by in this realm for a visit, and we expect to be with him for the entire day-¡± (An expression here crossed Aina¡¯s face, one that was hard to interpret) ¡°-so I would typically ask you, Ms. Ellie, but I understand you are occupied with academic obligations today?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Ellie, a little evasively. ¡°I got school stuff.¡±


    Bridget turned to Cal. ¡°And Ms. Ram isn¡¯t here today either, is that correct?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Cal, swallowing some warm oatmeal, which seemed to slide right down to his stomach. ¡°She texted me yesterday afternoon. She had to leave for a doctor¡¯s appointment, and won¡¯t be back until later tonight.¡±


    Aina frowned, picking at her food. ¡°My guide requires such an extended medical visit ¡ª overnight nonetheless? Is she alright?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d have to ask her,¡± said Cal shortly.


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Bridget scratched her chin, her brown eyes narrowed in consternation. ¡°This is all rather inconvenient. I¡¯d rather a person not be home alone while sick. If only there were another occupant who could-¡±


    She paused here. ¡°Ah.¡±


    Mel the ghost nodded with sincerity, clearly honored to be tasked with any sort of responsibility. ¡°You got it, Bridget! You don¡¯t need to worry! He¡¯s in good hands, I¡¯ll watch him night and day! And if he starts vomiting blood, I¡¯ll call you on his phone right away! ¡ª oh, but it might take me a few tries. I still have no trouble picking up small objects¡­ wait, do you have a cell number?¡±


    It was after breakfast, and they were back in room 01. Bridget had helped Cal back onto his bed, where they had disturbed Mel, who had still been sleeping in the room. However, the ghost was fully energetic now, clearly happy to be remembered by the rest of the girls in Otter Manor and to take over the role of Cal¡¯s caretaker.


    ¡°Um..¡± Bridget smiled, a little bemused. ¡°I don¡¯t think it will come to that, Ms. Mel. It¡¯s only a fever. Just ensure he stays in bed, drinks plenty of fluids, doesn¡¯t get up and attempt to do chores ¡ª that sort of thing. I¡¯ll prepare some tomato soup before I leave with my lady. That can be warmed up whenever he needs to eat.¡±


    ¡°You both are taking this too seriously.¡± Cal was sitting on the side of the bed, shivering despite his protests. ¡°It¡¯s just a little fever. You don¡¯t need to go through all this trouble. I can take care of myself.¡±


    ¡°Lay down under the covers, Mr. Cal,¡± Bridget said, casting a stern look at him.


    He obeyed.


    ¡°This is what I mean, Ms. Mel,¡± continued Bridget, ¡°he will insist on such ridiculous things. Make sure he rests.¡±


    Mel raised her hand in a mock salute. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am! Leave it to me! I will make sure he doesn¡¯t leave the bed ¡ª not even to go to the bathroom!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unnecessary.¡± Bridget turned to leave. ¡°Feel better, Mr. Cal.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Ms. Bridget,¡± Cal called to her as she exited the room.


    ¡°Thank you, Bridget!¡± repeated Mel. When the door closed, she floated over to Cal, her blue eyes warmly shining. ¡°You were right, she¡¯s super nice.¡±


    The boy nodded, holding the covers up to his chin. ¡°Yeah, she is.¡±


    There was a little pause.


    ¡°How do you feel?¡± Mel asked gently.


    Cal shrugged, opened his mouth, and then seemed to change his mind. ¡°Pretty awful, to be honest. I don¡¯t get sick very often. And I¡¯m certainly not used to people fussing when I do.¡±


    ¡°Some fussing is okay,¡± said Mel, leaning her head next to his. ¡°Bridget¡¯s the kind of person that wants to take care of people. And I¡¯m the kind of cute girl who likes to accumulate favors that I can cash in later. So our interests happened to align at this moment.¡±


    Cal snorted at her joke.


    ¡°Need anything?¡± Mel said.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m okay. Bridget was right, of course. I just need to rest.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been working hard, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    Cal¡¯s eyes widened, and he glanced at Mel, who was studying him intently with her blue eyes. He could count her freckles from this distance. ¡°Yeah¡­ maybe I just tired myself out.¡±


    He felt emotional for a reason he couldn¡¯t quite explain. His voice sounded more hoarse than it had before.


    ¡°Then take this opportunity to rest,¡± Mel said reassuringly, ¡°Bridget left you that juice on your bedside table, if you need it. I¡¯ll leave you alone now. If you need something, just holler.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Thanks, Poltergeist.¡±


    A playful pouting expression.


    ¡°Honestly, you¡¯re still using that nickname?¡±


    An hour or so later ¡ª  after everyone else had left Otter Manor ¡ª  Mel floated through the door of room 01 to see that Cal had fallen asleep. It was a novel sight for the ghost girl. Cal always seemed to fall asleep later and wake up earlier than herself.


    The ghost now studied his sleeping face, interested by the effect it was creating. The boy seemed less tense, more relaxed, more vulnerable than she had ever seen him. Cal always seemed to hold a sort of control over his facial expressions, always specifically styling them to situations. To see the lines of his face move uninhabited brought a certain tenderness into her chest that she couldn¡¯t explain.


    Mel moved ever closer. She wanted to touch Cal¡¯s sleeping face but didn¡¯t want to risk waking him.


    A sound resounded through the room, distant but still sudden. Mel practically jumped out of her faintly-transparent skin, and then looked around the room guilty, as if she had been discovered doing something wrong.


    There was an unfamiliar knock at the front door.

 Chapter 21: Mel Sees the Shadow (Part 1)

    [October 7, 2042]


    There was an unfamiliar, almost surreal knock at the door. A solitary bang against the wood, as if the person knocking was certain that a single sound would be enough to summon the inhabitants of the huge house. Mel couldn¡¯t quite explain it to herself, but there was something about the noise that unnerved her, that filled her with a sense of pronounced anticipation that she couldn¡¯t justify.


    It was the sound of superstition. Of destiny knocking.


    For a moment, Mel considered ignoring the sound. She was ¡ª after all ¡ª a ghost, and so wasn¡¯t used to interacting with the physical world in such a direct way as opening a door for a visitor. In all the scary movies she watched, the ghost would always bide its time in the first act, only making itself known as the film progressed through poltergeist activity and jump scares. Whoever heard of any ghost worth her salt that opened the door for whatever schmuck happened to stop by?


    However, three things made Mel pause and reconsider this initial instinct.


    The first: she was worried that any continuous knocking would wake up Cal.


    The second: she was the only able person still in the house. All the other tenants were currently out of the house for various reasons.


    The third: she remembered that things were different now. Aina¡¯s charm was still active, and Mel was visible to anybody as long as she remained on the premises of Otter Manor. Lately, she had even been practicing walking along the ground, going along it like a normal girl.


    Mel looked down at her outfit: the white sundress and her bare feet. A little unusual for this time of the year, perhaps, but surely nothing extremely strange?


    Why not? She thought to herself. I can do this. It¡¯s probably just someone dropping off a package or something. As long as it¡¯s over quickly, I can pretend to be a normal girl just fine. They won¡¯t even guess that I¡¯m a ghost if I make sure to walk along the floor and not go through walls.


    Mel balled a small, pale fist, and was surprised at the courage that had begun to run through her. She wanted this, she realized. She wanted to feel normal, do something normal, like anyone else would.


    She floated over to the window and looked down at the entrance of the mansion. While the figure by the door was somewhat obscured by the portico, she was certain that caught a glimpse of long hair. The visitor wasn¡¯t Isaac ¡ª there was nothing to worry about.


    In one clean motion, Mel dived head-first through the floor of room 01, emerging into the entry hall, flipping over in the air as she did. She landed ¡ª yes, landed! ¡ª onto the red carpeted floor, feet-first. She bounced on the heels of her feet, making sure she got used to the feeling of the ground underneath. She took a step forward, and then took a step back, watching the thin fibers of the carpet sprout between her toes. All good to go. Nowhere safe and nowhere terrifying.


    Mel took a deep breath and opened the door.


    In the entrance, framed by the colorless sky, was a woman.


    For a long moment, Mel had difficulty discerning the woman¡¯s features, like her eyes had static in them. From what she could tell, the woman was tall, with long silky black hair that fell almost to her knees. Her skin was pale, almost unnaturally pale: the color of snow and porcelain and calcite ¡ª like no blood flowed underneath. The woman¡¯s eyes were dark, not in the way that Cal¡¯s were; which Mel fancied was a comforting darkness, like light gently fading outside a bedroom window as you drifted off to sleep.


    The woman¡¯s eyes were dark because they were darkness: featureless, deep, abyssal. They simulated looking down deep into the bottom of a well, and a sneaking, unnerving feeling that something you couldn¡¯t see was staring back up at you.


    Mel suddenly felt cold, and a little sick in her stomach. She felt something instinctive in her brain, yelling at her to for God¡¯s sake close the door and not let this woman inside, but her limbs felt frozen and her mouth felt lame.


    ¡°Ah,¡± said the woman. Her voice was like the cracking of ice: a greater force could be felt behind the sound. ¡°You¡¯ve finally decided to let me in.¡±


    Without asking for permission, she crossed the threshold of Otter Manor, straight past Mel, who stood dumbly without reacting at all.


    The woman stopped in the middle of the entry hall. She looked around distastefully at the decor and clicked her tongue. What was the woman wearing? Mel somehow couldn¡¯t quite tell. A cloak, a kimono, a suit? Something dark that hugged the contours of her tall, spindly body. How old was the woman? Age didn¡¯t seem to matter all that much, somehow. Between twenty and thirty ¡ª between twenty-five and forty-five. Was the woman beautiful? Undoubtedly. Mel had always thought of Aina as the zenith of feminine charm and elegance, but the fourth princess of Luvinia seemed like a common girl compared to the terrible beauty of the woman who stood before the ghost.


    In Aina¡¯s company, Mel often felt silly, unshapely, plain.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    In the company of this woman, a feeling from long ago reemerged in Mel¡¯s chest. That she wasn¡¯t even a girl, not really. She was only a sexless shape, like wet mud falling through air. She ought to be ashamed. She ought to disappear.


    What is happening? Mel thought, blankly. What is happening inside of me?


    Was it even a woman that Mel was looking at? That didn¡¯t seem right ¡ª it was too specific, too human. She ought to be described as a thundercloud, or a mountain peak, or a great dark wave that crashed against the pale beach. ¡°Woman¡± was too small a word. ¡°Woman¡± was too kind of a word.


    The woman clicked her tongue again. ¡°What a dismal place. A melancholy erection, built from misplaced nostalgia for a past that never existed. And so much negative energy. You can practically feel the grief dripping from the walls. A waste of time and money.¡±


    The woman fixed Mel with her terrible, dark eyes. ¡°Your father was quite a pathetic man, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±


    She¡¯s talking about daddy, Mel realized, nobody talks about my daddy like that. He was fragile, yes. But he was gentle and kind and was my entire world. When I was in pain, he cried. When I died, he cried for me.


    The ghost did not move and did not say anything.


    ¡°Get me some tea, would you?¡± said the woman, who had plopped into one of the leather armchairs as if they belonged to her. ¡°Top cupboard. What the princess brought back from her world. There should still be some left.¡±


    Time skipped ¡ª like when Mel fast-forwarded through the parts of a movie she had already seen.


    The next thing the ghost girl knew, she was handing the woman a steaming cup of tea. The woman took the cup silently (not thanking or acknowledging Mel) and stretched her frame out on the chair. ¡°Okay,¡± she said, ¡°sit down now.¡±


    ¡°Um..¡± Mel was shaking with confusion and fear ¡ª fear? Why was she afraid? ¡ª but she managed to find her wavering voice. ¡°Miss¡­ um¡­ that is to say¡­ who are you? What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°I just thought I would have a look around,¡± replied the woman, who was disinterestedly inspecting her fingernails. ¡°Despite everything, it¡¯s always better to get a look at things in person, above all. Being aware of something isn¡¯t quite the same as experiencing it, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±


    ¡°Who are you, ma¡¯am?¡± said Mel again, trying not to sink into the floor out of anxiety. She wanted to call for someone to help ¡ª Bridget, in truth ¡ª but the only other person in the house was Cal, sick and asleep upstairs.


    ¡°I¡¯m just visiting, and you won¡¯t remember this anyway. Sit down, won¡¯t you?¡±


    Mel gritted her teeth, a spark of annoyance overcoming her fear. ¡°I think you should leave, ma¡¯am.¡±


    The woman looked up sharply, as if Mel¡¯s words were very unexpected. And then she smiled. ¡°Has the lady of the house decided to grow a backbone?¡± The smile grew wider. It seemed to be eclipsing the length of the woman''s face. ¡°Oh, but it isn¡¯t really your house, is it? It was supposed to be, your father always intended it to be, but you died before that materialized ¡ª and then he died out of a broken heart. You know, I wonder if you blame yourself for that. Do sit down.¡±


    There was a little pop inside of Mel¡¯s head. It sounded to her like the sound bubble wrap makes when you press your thumb firmly against it: a loud noise that slowly deflates.


    ¡°You need to get out, right now.¡± Anger had now fully replaced the fear, and Mel floated forward towards the grinning woman, not bothering to walk along the carpeted floor anymore. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ call the police, I¡¯ll do something, you need to leave-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re all in a tizzy, dear. And if I may say, girl-to-girl, you¡¯re looking rather pale. Ah¡­ but in the strictest sense of the word, you¡¯ve never really been a girl, have you? Sit down.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to sit down, you have to go!-¡±


    ¡°Sit down.¡±


    Time skipped ¡ª the hand of the clock jumping, as if it had been knocked by a careless arm.


    Mel was sitting down in the chair across from the woman. Her head felt like it was empty, with nothing in it but gently drifting motes of dust.¡±


    ¡°Who-¡± Mel started, in a bewildered voice. ¡°What are you?¡±


    The woman took a sip of tea, her dark eyes not even looking at Mel. ¡°Above your pay grade, little spirit.¡± She placed the tea down. ¡°Now, I would appreciate it if we could get to the topic of discussion I¡¯m actually here about. And I did want to talk about it with you, in particular. You seem to know him better than the others here, if only superficially. I understand that you have prodded him and looked at him and maybe imagined a little thing or two that wasn¡¯t strictly appropriate, that¡¯s fine. I¡¯m sure it all felt very sincere and real to you, despite your departed condition. All this to say ¡ª  I wanted to get your opinion. Take a rain check, so to speak. I want to know how things are progressing.¡±


    Mel¡¯s mouth was dry. She intertwined her small pale fingers, then tugged at the hem of her sundress. She suddenly wished to cover her knees. ¡°Him? Who are you talking about?¡±


    The woman tilted her head and her long dark hair cascaded over the armrest of the chair. ¡°Who? My boyfriend, of course. I¡¯ve put a lot of work into him, so I believe I¡¯m more than entitled to check on his condition. You should have seen him when I first got my hands on him. You hardly could have called such a thing ¡®human¡¯. Not that I would be an expert in such definitions.¡±


    ¡°Your¡­¡± Mel shook her head, more confused by the moment. ¡°Your boyfriend?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± The woman said, annoyed. ¡°I certainly didn¡¯t come to this sorry excuse for a manor for your sake. Do you think I care enough about the lost cosmonaut, the voiceless doll, the slave, or the would-be-princess? Trust me, for the time being, I couldn¡¯t care less about their issues. They are not yet relevant to the things I care about. That¡¯s why I wanted to talk about my boyfriend.¡±


    ¡°I-¡± Mel was finding it hard to keep up with the things the woman was saying. She was now pulling at the short hairs on her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you¡¯re talking about. You¡¯re not making any sense.¡±


    ¡°Come now! I obviously mean that silly boy sleeping upstairs.¡± The woman watched Mel carefully as she said these words. ¡°My little Pascal. Well, he calls himself Cal. He doesn¡¯t like his name too much, poor fool.¡±


    The woman grinned again. Her eyes looked like the wide expanse of the night sky. ¡°Let¡¯s have a chat, little spirit. Girl-talk. I want to talk about love with you.¡±

 Chapter 22: Mel Sees the Shadow (Part 2)

    [October 7, 2042]


    There was a silence full of anticipation, like the second between the sound of dripping water. Mel¡¯s mind was racing. She didn¡¯t know what to believe or what to think.


    ¡°Love?¡± the ghost said at last, pronouncing the word as if it had gotten stuck in her throat midway.


    The woman nodded. ¡°Yes, love. What else is there to consider in this world ¡ª or after it, in your case.¡±


    Mel didn¡¯t say anything.


    Taking this silence as permission to continue, the woman smirked and took another sip of her tea. ¡°Love is the most important thing in every life, every world. It is an energy, a food source, a liquid vitality that animates and reinvigorates. It shrinks and expands between the beats of the heart, and it all belongs to me.¡± The woman said all this as if she were explaining a foreign, scientific concept. ¡°Therefore, yes, I come to speak with you of love. You seemed suited for the task, based on the tenants that live here. Mature but not overly scrupulous. Intelligent but not especially bright.¡±


    The smile again. ¡°You feel more acutely, but cannot explain those feelings even to yourself. That makes you perfect.¡±


    ¡°Why would you want to speak to me?¡± shot back Mel, deciding to ignore the insults. ¡°I don¡¯t even know who you are.¡±


    ¡°Because you are a fresh canvas,¡± replied the woman. ¡°This story began a long time ago, and you are a newcomer, interrupting the established plot. I thought a fresh perspective would be helpful.¡±


    ¡°On love?¡±


    ¡°On love.¡±


    Mel took a deep breath. She had the impression that she was balancing on the edge of a knife, with an abyss gaping on either side. It was not physical harm that awaited her ¡ª such a thing wouldn¡¯t be a threat since she was dead already ¡ª but there was something emotional at stake in this conversation. The woman sitting across from her seemed like she knew a million ways to make existence unbearable without ever drawing a drop of blood.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you before, well, felt you before.¡± Mel realized, all at once. ¡°In the aura, in his aura? The shadow that clings to the colorlessness¡­¡±


    ¡°Well observed. Yes, that was me.¡±


    ¡°You were here the whole time?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The woman nodded. ¡°In spirit, if not fully. I¡¯m aware of most of what happens to Cal, but I have other obligations to attend to, so I can¡¯t be asked to keep track of every little detail and development. That¡¯s why you¡¯re useful to me. A little lovebird. You cling to his side just as I do.¡±


    ¡°Why would you care what I think about love?¡± Mel said shortly, sarcasm dripping from her words. ¡°You seem to be an expert in the matter.¡±


    The woman laughed. It was a horrible sound. ¡°You make a good point, little spirit! However, despite all appearances, I am not ¡ª in fact ¡ª omnipotent. There are gaps in my knowledge and types of love I do not know with specificity. And so, when it is relevant to my boyfriend, I like to do some scouting. Some investigation. Have some fun.¡±


    Mel gritted her teeth. There were far, far more important things to address at the moment, but she couldn¡¯t help her next words: ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t think I believe that.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± The woman tilted her head again.


    ¡°I don''t believe that,¡± repeated Mel, sinking her fingers into the armrests of the chair. ¡°I don¡¯t believe that Cal is your boyfriend.¡±


    Something changed within the woman¡¯s beautiful face. For the first time she looked at Mel as if she was something worth considering, and a flicker of annoyance danced in her black eyes.


    ¡°Oh?¡± she said, her voice steady and polite. ¡°And why would you think that?¡±


    Mel met the dangerous, dark stare, though inside her heart was pounding hard. ¡°You have to excuse me, ma¡¯am, for saying this when we¡¯ve only just met one another, but¡­ I don¡¯t think you''re the sort of person he would fall in love with.¡±


    The woman¡¯s smile was wider than the Cheshire Cat. ¡°You seem very certain for a person who knows practically nothing about him.¡±


    ¡°And he knows nothing about me, not really,¡± countered Mel, ¡°it doesn¡¯t matter. I can tell.¡±


    The woman rested a gloved hand (was it gloved, the image seemed to be shimmering before Mel¡¯s eyes) upon the side of her head and studied the ghost girl with interest. ¡°Are you in love with little Pascal, little spirit? I¡¯ve been wondering. You blush so much around him.¡±


    The words passed through Mel like a gentle wind, producing an almost calming effect ¡ª which was odd ¡ª she recognized. Mel was certain if those words had been spoken by anyone else, Bridget, or Aina, or Ellie for instance, they would have produced a remarkable effect on her. Mel almost smiled thinking about it. She certainly would have turned bright scarlet, pressed her hands to her cheeks, and bounced all around the room like a tennis ball ¡ª up and down, through walls, back out of them. Typically, the word ¡°love¡± would have been enough to make her chest ache and her feelings go into a frenzy¡­ but now¡­


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    There was something upsetting, almost blasphemous, about hearing the words ¡ª those precious feelings ¡ª coming out of the woman¡¯s mouth. A perversion that changed the atmosphere, almost the very meaning behind the words. It made Mel feel apathetic and tense. She wished those words had not been spoken aloud, or at least not in this way. Because the woman did not say this as a mere observation, Mel was sure of it. There was a trap here, somewhere, somehow ¡ª a hidden and dangerous intention that the ghost girl could not gleam. She felt it was imperative not to give the woman what she wanted, whatever that may be.


    My feelings are mine, thought Mel, the inside of her head ringing like a bell.


    My feelings are mine, because right now, these feelings are all I am. I have no body, and no life, and have nowhere to return ¡ª only through them am I sustained and persist. So it doesn¡¯t matter. It doesn¡¯t matter if these feelings are powerless, denied, in vain. It doesn¡¯t matter if nobody ever knows.


    ¡°No,¡± said Mel, commanding her pale lips into a slight smile. ¡°I am not in love with him.¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyes seemed to be growing in her head, as if the dark wells sought to devour the entire room. ¡°Really? Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°It would be ridiculous for a ghost to fall in love with anybody,¡± continued Mel, holding her smile despite the anxiety swirling within her chest. ¡°Because love is for the living: a catalyst for change. The only people who get to change are those that are still alive.¡±


    Somewhere, the hand of a clock jumped.


    ¡°That¡¯s a quite interesting answer,¡± the woman said, as if considering something, ¡°I wonder if that¡¯s true. A ghost has never fallen in love with a mortal, at least not to my knowledge. Such a thing would be a blight against all creation.¡±


    The woman leaned back in her chair. ¡°Which are you? A blight or a liar? I must say, I didn¡¯t expect to find you so interesting. Most ghosts are so dreadfully dull, whichever plane they happen to inhabit. They talk about their death, their shivering bones, the afterlife. ¡°Hereabouts I was stabbed ma¡¯am!¡± and ¡°I remember the last words I spoke with my father¡­¡±, oh, it¡¯s so tedious. But you¡­¡±


    She trailed off, and Mel found the opportunity to cut in with a voice that had now begun to quiver, just a little. ¡°You should leave now. Please.¡±


    Mel had discovered she couldn¡¯t move, yet she tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, positive that showing weakness would encourage the woman to make this ordeal even more horrible.


    The woman ignored Mel, as if the ghost hadn¡¯t spoken, instead taking another sip of tea. ¡°I see you¡¯re obstinate on this matter. You share that characteristic with your undead brethren. And yet you claim to live without love. Well, not live¡­ you get my meaning. Which makes me wonder¡­¡± The woman flicked a speck of lint from her long, silverish finger. ¡°What exactly is the point of you, Mel?¡±


    There was a roar inside Mel¡¯s head. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°All I mean to suggest is, if you are as you claim to be, drifting throughout your afterlife without purpose, I only wondered what was the point.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes widened in false concern, changing strategies. ¡°You cannot participate in the daily minutia of life. You cannot eat the delicious food that my boyfriend cooks. You cannot be seen, unless some easily-removable charm is involved. You cannot age, and will still remain the same long after all those currently living in this place have transitioned into working adults and left this place behind.¡±


    The tension had become too much, and Mel¡¯s body had begun to quake in earnest. She desperately wanted to get away from the woman, but still couldn¡¯t move. Mel pressed her knees together and wrapped her arms around herself, responding softly: ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think there has to be a point¡­ I¡¯m allowed to just be, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a generous interpretation, isn¡¯t it?¡± the woman replied. ¡°You do know the properties of a ghost, don¡¯t you? You will continue to exist unless exorcised. You claim to live just as you are in this moment, but what about the next hundred years? The next thousand? Various circumstances have aligned to allow you to talk with and interact with the inhabitants of this place, but that¡¯s a mere lucky fluke. It will not happen again. You will return to being an unseen, unheard existence, sooner rather than later.¡±


    The woman shrugged. ¡°Of course, I¡¯m only speaking for myself but¡­ such a prospect would seem to be unbearably lonely.¡± Her eyes seemed to be swallowing Mel whole. ¡°If it were me¡­ I would end my own existence rather than face that kind of hell¡­¡±


    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Mel was trying not to cry at this point, and her voice quivered and shook. There was something unbearable about the woman¡¯s presence that only grew as time persisted. ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    The woman clicked her tongue, brushing back her long dark hair. ¡°I¡¯ve told you that, haven¡¯t I? Well, I admit I¡¯m getting a little side-tracked. Little Pascal is my first priority, but I think I¡¯ve gotten most of what I wanted to know.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Tell you what, little spirit. You¡¯re rather amusing to me. I thought you were simply a side character in this story, a short distraction that would never really amount to anything substantial. That¡¯s why I singled you out, because of your aptitude ¡ª yes ¡ª but also because I thought it would be quieter than some of the others. Aina would make an unbearable fuss, and honestly, that Bridget girl frightens me¡­ Don¡¯t move.¡±


    The woman reached forward and took Mel¡¯s hand. Mel gasped, not just out of bewilderment (it should be impossible for anyone to touch her without Mel¡¯s focus and comfort) but because it was freezing cold. The skin of the woman felt like burning ice.


    ¡°But now I wonder if I was wrong,¡± pondered the woman softly, ¡°perhaps you were the heroine of this story all along. Well, let¡¯s find out.¡±


    Mel¡¯s mouth was slightly open. She couldn¡¯t move. She couldn¡¯t speak. She could only feel the terrible cold of the woman¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Here¡¯s the deal, little spirit,¡± said the woman, ¡°I give you an out. You exit the stage, right here, right now. If there¡¯s nothing else tethering you to this side, then I will release you personally, if you wish it. You¡¯ll get to see what lies at the other end of that shimmering stream of light.¡± The woman¡¯s grip tightened on Mel¡¯s hand. ¡°Even I don¡¯t know what lies on the other side. Who knows? Perhaps your father is waiting for you there. You wrote about heaven once, in your diary, didn¡¯t you? Personally, I find such a notion romantic and ridiculous¡­ but it¡¯s also not impossible.¡±


    The woman¡¯s frighteningly cold hand traveled up Mel¡¯s arm and gripped her shoulder. ¡°You can stay here, without purpose or love. Or you can take a risk, and see what¡¯s really waiting for you on the other end of eternity. Oh, and you can speak now.¡±


    Mel¡¯s mouth opened, she seemed to be making a sound, but she couldn¡¯t describe it. It was like a long extended groan, similar to air leaving a balloon.


    My soul is leaving my body, thought Mel, in a daze of panic and confusion, oh God, it¡¯s coming out my mouth. What is happening? What is this?


    ¡°Time to decide, little spirit.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes glowed ¡ª literally glowed. ¡°I must admit, it¡¯s rather interesting to not know what will happen next.¡±


    And then suddenly, a loud sound broke the spell.


    Mel reeled backward, floating up into the air, suddenly able to move her body. She was shivering, almost feverish. The woman looked annoyed, and cast a glaring stare at the source of the noise, as if she had been interrupted from a truly sumptuous meal.


    There had been another knock at the door.

 Chapter 23: Ezekiel and Sean Won’t Tolerate Evildoers

    October 7, 2042]


    There was a knock at the door ¡ª more of a loud bang than anything. Broken from her stupor, Mel shook her head to clear it and floated over to the door, not even bothering to step upon the floor. If whoever was waiting on the other side didn¡¯t know about ghosts, that wasn¡¯t Mel¡¯s problem at the moment: she was much too upset and emotionally volatile to have such considerations.


    Does it even matter? thought Mel as she pulled the door open, focusing her hand on interacting physically with the handle. Nothing else could make this day more surreal.


    She opened the door. On the other side stood two enormous sheep covered in thick golden wool, staring at her with blinking, dark eyes.


    For a moment, Mel couldn¡¯t react. Then she murmured under her breath: ¡°You¡¯re¡­ when Aina first arrived¡­¡±


    ¡°I am Ezekiel du Garbhold ni Houliram,¡± said the sheep on the left.


    ¡°And I am Sean,¡± said the sheep on the right. ¡°There is no reason to fear any longer. We are here to come to your aid, Lady Frost.¡±


    The two sheep walked through Mel without another word, their cloves making heavy sounds on the carpeted floor. Mel stood still for a moment, unable to properly process what she had just witnessed. Then she shook her head tiredly and closed the door.


    ¡°Oh, screw it,¡± Mel murmured, ¡°I thought I was supposed to be the mysterious and bewildering presence in this house.¡±


    Meanwhile, the women hadn¡¯t moved. She lounged in her chair, her black eyes disinterestedly evaluating the two golden sheep that moved through the entry hall toward her. She didn¡¯t seem at all surprised to see Ezekiel or Sean enter the room. She calmly inspected the two newcomers, unfazed, taking a sip from her tea cup.


    ¡°You are trespassing within the home where our daughter sleeps and this brave spirit resides,¡± Ezekiel said coldly, ¡°begone shadow. This place of light and healing is not one where you are welcome.¡±


    ¡°You are not in the position to command such an edict,¡± said the woman nonchalantly and blew a bit of lint off of her fingernails. ¡°You are the denizens of a minor house from a minor realm. In other words, I can do as I like and you have no power to stop me.¡±


    ¡°That may be true, shadow,¡± spat Sean, ¡°but we still serve the Goddess of Light, your equal and opposite. To tread upon our hooves is to risk inciting disagreement with her. Surely that is not worth conducting this immature torture you are so fond of.¡±


    The woman seemed to consider this, and shrugged. ¡°Torture is a harsh word, isn¡¯t it? I was just having some fun.¡±


    ¡°A harsh word, but a correct word,¡± spat Ezekiel. ¡°You have no contract with this spirit. She is not yours to play with and discard. Leave her be.¡±


    ¡°I wonder if that¡¯s true,¡± grinned the woman. Her eyes fell on Mel, who quivered away from her gaze. ¡°This intriguing little spirit has gotten attached to the wrong human¡­ haven¡¯t you? You couldn¡¯t have made a worse choice even if you had eternity to play with.¡±


    ¡°Leave her be,¡± repeated the two sheep.


    The woman sighed, downed the last of her tea, and stood up. Somehow, she seemed to have grown even taller in the time since she had sat down. She towered even over the abnormally large sheep, her head nearly brushing up against the raised ceiling of the entry hall.


    ¡°I guess stopping for today wouldn¡¯t be the worst outcome,¡± she pondered out loud in a chilling voice. ¡°I learned some interesting things.¡±


    She strolled down the hall, past Ezekiel and Sean, who were watching her warily. The woman stopped right next to where Mel hovered in the air and winked at the ghost. ¡°I¡¯ll come by again. There¡¯s more I would like to discuss with you. For now, I''ll leave you all to this¡­ boring, pointless daily life.¡± The woman paused, considering something else. ¡°Oh, and my offer is still on the table. If you ever feel like leaving this side, let me know. I¡¯ll end your suffering and send you to the afterlife, no problem. I would take great pleasure in it.¡±


    Mel swallowed heavily. She couldn¡¯t meet the woman¡¯s eyes. ¡°That won¡¯t happen. I¡¯m not¡­ I¡¯m not suffering¡­¡±


    The woman shook her head. ¡°Sooner rather than later, you¡¯ll find that you¡¯re very wrong about that, little spirit.¡± Something almost like compassion appeared in her eyes. ¡°You have a limit of what you can endure and you¡¯ll inevitably reach it. That is something I never have to fear. After all, I won¡¯t give up on love.¡±


    The door slammed, ratting the window panes. The woman was gone.


    When Mel opened her eyes again, her cheek was pressed against something warm and soft. The feeling was gentle and nostalgic. It reminded her of when she was little, before Isaac was born. She would curl up with her father while they watched some goofy horror movie: her cheek pressed against his warm chest. They would be covered in the same blanket, and a space heater would be quietly humming away in the corner as the exciting and terrifying images on the screen blared. Afterward, when she was too tired to walk back upstairs, her father would carry her in his arms back to her room. He had a large frame, even back then. In those days, his arms had seemed bigger than the whole world.


    Papa, Mel thought subconsciously, I miss you. I miss you so, so much. But I can''t see you yet. There are things I want to experience, sights I want to see. I¡¯m dead already, but there¡¯s something in me that I wish to be born.


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    Mel blinked, finally realizing that what her cheek was pressed against was the golden fur of Ezekiel, the talking sheep. She was halfway into the ground, putting her weight against Ezekiel, who had folded his legs underneath his body in order to lay down on the carpet and give Mel more easy support. ¡°Oh,¡± she murmured, still a little groggy. ¡°I¡¯m touching you¡­¡±


    ¡°Thou are,¡± said Ezekiel simply, looking over his back to gaze at Mel with his small dark eyes. ¡°Myself and Sean may be simple animals, but we are still divinely blessed by the Goddess of Light. It is why we can converse to you in a language you understand, and why such matters as the materialism of spirit are of little consequence.¡±


    Mel sighed and nestled her face deeper in the warm wool. Ezekiel didn¡¯t smell like a barnyard animal at all, in fact, a sweet and clear smell now came to her nostrils: like grass warmed by the summer sun. ¡°You¡¯re Aina¡¯s sheep, aren¡¯t you? I saw you the first day you arrived. Like something out of a fairy tale.¡±


    ¡°Thou art too kind, Lady Frost. If I may say, to see a spirit as extraordinary as yourself, so full of vigor and expression ¡ª as material and alive as myself ¡ª  it is like something out of the age of myth.¡±


    Mel smiled to herself with a goofy grin at the compliment, but then a look of consternation passed over her face. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ remember the past hour. Why are you here? It¡¯s like a part of my mind is missing, no, like someone took it.¡±


    Ezekiel¡¯s voice took on a more somber tenor. ¡°Yes. You have stood up to great evil, one who takes your time away from you without compromise. Myself and Sean arrived to put a stop to it. Fear not, when she returns ¡ª and she will return ¡ª as shadows of her type always do, those memories will be returned to you. But not yet.¡±


    ¡°I feel¡­ so tired¡­¡± said Mel quietly, still pressing her face against the warm wool.


    ¡°Thou hast been through trauma and horror and an existence you never asked for. The effects are straining your mind, forcing it into lethargy,¡± replied Ezekiel. ¡°You are commendable and resourceful for lasting this long, buying enough time for myself and Sean to detect her presence and arrive. Sean has returned to our dwelling, but I shall remain with you until you fall back asleep. Then it shall all be as a dream.¡±


    Mel let her fingers sink into the golden wool, fascinated and delighted with the ease with which she was touching something material ¡ª a feat that would otherwise take up the majority of her concentration. ¡°You¡¯re really nice¡­ Mr. Ezekiel.¡± She yawned. ¡°I always¡­ wanted to be friends with a magical creature¡­¡±


    The sheep wasn¡¯t able to smile but a look of amusement seemed to come over his eyes. ¡°My daughter would make good to become an ally of you, Lady Frost. If you remember this, I would ask you to please be kind to her when you wake up and see her again.¡± He let out a huge sigh that shook his enormous body. ¡°The iconoclast sleeping upstairs may be foolish and vain in a myriad of ways, but attracting the affection of a woman such as you¡­ perhaps he is redeemable yet. Now sleep.¡±


    Mel closed her eyes and everything disappeared again.


    When Cal opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Mel staring at him with wide blue eyes. She was floating above his bed. Her short black hair was even more messy than usual ¡ª it stuck up in odd places like she had been running her fingers through it. It would have almost seemed cute if Cal hadn¡¯t been instantly distracted by a heaviness in his head.


    He leaned back on his pillows. ¡°Don¡¯t watch me sleep, it¡¯s creepy.¡±


    Mel smirked. ¡°Most boys your age would be delighted to have an adorable ghost tend to their every whim when they¡¯re sick.¡±


    ¡°Most boys don¡¯t have such specific, bizarre considerations.¡±


    She stuck her tongue out and then floated closer. ¡°How do you feel?¡±


    Cal sighed. ¡°Not good, but better, I suppose. A little thirsty.¡±


    Mel nodded. ¡°You have some water there on the bedside table.¡± She paused. ¡°It¡¯s pretty late. You slept for a long time. Bridget is going to start making dinner soon. And don¡¯t even think about trying to help her.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t¡­ I wasn¡¯t.¡±


    Mel poked his forehead with a pale finger. ¡°You suck at lying. Stay still and get better. If you get too sick, you won¡¯t be able to make breakfast anymore, and that would break Ellie¡¯s heart.¡± She paused again, as if considering something. ¡°Your full name is Pascal, right?¡±


    Cal froze momentarily, and then glared at her with stony eyes. ¡°How do you know that? Bridget told you, right?¡±


    ¡°No, no!¡± Mel waved her arms in front of her. ¡°She didn¡¯t say anything¡­ wait, why does Bridget know?¡±


    Cal considered lying for a reason he couldn¡¯t even explain to himself, but then decided against it. ¡°Um¡­ well¡­ it came up¡­ in conversation.¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± said Mel icily, ¡°you guys talk about a lot of stuff, huh?¡±


    Cal straightened up on the bed. ¡°You¡¯re avoiding the question. How could you even know that if Bridget didn¡¯t say¡­ I don¡¯t tell people that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Mel¡¯s blue eyes seemed distant for a moment, ¡°I must have heard it somewhere.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I must have¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ I had a weird day, to tell you the truth. It feels like I was asleep for a lot of it.¡±


    ¡°So you were sleeping on the job? That¡¯s what you¡¯re telling me?¡±


    ¡°Cal, I¡¯m being serious.¡± Mel grimaced annoyed. ¡°It was weird¡­ like I can remember things and not remember things.¡±


    She pursed her lips. ¡°Cal¡­ have you ever fallen in love with someone?¡±


    Cal¡¯s throat felt dry. ¡°Why would you ask me that?¡± You¡¯re being stranger than usual.¡±


    ¡°Curiosity.¡± The blue eyes floated closer to Cal. ¡°Just curiosity.¡±


    Cal met the stare without flinching. ¡°No. I haven¡¯t.¡±


    Mel tilted her head. A strand of dark hair fell against her long eyelashes. ¡°Not once? Not a childhood crush? A girl you went out with for a week in middle school?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cal said. ¡°Not ever. Not once.¡±


    Mel nodded to herself, taking this information into account. Then she floated a little further away, spinning slightly in the air in a way that made her sundress dance. When she turned back to face Cal, he saw that there was a smug smile plastered on her face.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Mel nodded again, grinning. ¡°You know, that is exactly what I thought I would hear. That really suits you.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to take so much glee in it,¡± Cal muttered, turning over on the bed so he faced away from room 01¡¯s door. ¡°You should stop trying to find joy in others¡¯ misfortune.¡±


    Mel grinned wider. ¡°So¡­ Pascal, huh?¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t start¡­¡±


    ¡°Were your parents really big fans of mathematics?¡±


    ¡°Seriously-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d wager that was the case!¡±


    Their conversation, half-barbed with harsh words, half-warm with mutual affection, continued until Bridget called them down for dinner.

 Chapter 24: Ellie Likes To Eat Food

    [October 9, 2042]


    ¡°You like to eat food,¡± Cal commented, half bemused and half impressed.


    He was watching Ellie inhale an entire stack of pancakes. They were sitting at the counter of a retro-styled diner, on stools with padded cushions that reached far past the ground and gave whoever sat upon them a faint sense of vertigo. In the background music from the 1970s played over the speakers.


    ¡°Mhmm,¡± Ellie said. She swallowed. ¡°Why thank you, boss. That comment must be due to your keen powers of observation and not your tactless treatment of young ladies.¡±


    Today she was dressed simply in an athletic jacket over a crop top that revealed a lot of her smooth, dark belly. It was a trend of Ellie¡¯s outfits that Cal had picked up on over the weeks he had known her. The other girls at Otter Manor often dressed in conservative feminine clothing, but Ellie¡¯s wardrobe appeared to be extremely varied and have little consideration for how much skin they showed. This extended to her attitude towards Cal. Multiple times he had come across her in hallways wearing nothing but a shower towel or her underwear, but if she was bothered or embarrassed by these encounters she showed absolutely no indication of it. Eventually, as he got used to this, even Cal forgot about his own awkwardness. At first, he would sheepishly avert his eyes when he would catch a sight of Ellie emerging from her room wearing only panties and a shirt (usually to grab something from the kitchen) but now he was so used to this kind of encounter that he didn¡¯t even bother to acknowledge her nakedness or half-nakedness. He would nod to her or say a quiet ¡°hello¡± as they passed, and they both went about their days as normal.


    It wasn¡¯t that Ellie seemed unaware that Cal was a boy and that that fact could cause certain tension considering he lived with nothing but girls. In fact, she had teased him about it many times (¡°usually boss, when guys want to get a girlfriend, their plan doesn¡¯t involve becoming the caretaker of an old, haunted manor, but hey, whatever floats your boat¡±). Rather, in Cal¡¯s estimation, Ellie was a person who thought that the dynamics of gender and sex, as far as they concerned her, were completely and utterly superfluous.


    At her comment, Cal smiled slightly, leaning his head against the bent arm that he had propped on the counter. He took a sip from the glass of water in front of him. ¡°You want to be treated like a young lady? From now on should I speak to you with reverence, madame?¡±


    Ellie threw her head back and laughed freely, her dreadlocks swinging around her shoulders and her white teeth shining. ¡°Okay, okay! Call me a fat-ass if you wish, I don¡¯t care. I can take it ¡ª I got thick skin. I¡¯m still ordering another side after I¡¯m done with these pancakes, no matter how you tease me.¡±


    Cal shook his head in wonder. ¡°You¡¯re voracious. I don¡¯t get where it all goes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m like a grizzly bear, boss, I¡¯m simply stacking on fat for hibernation in the winter. I¡¯ll emerge in spring as a beautiful butterfly, and then you¡¯ll have no choice but to bow before me and admit your wrongdoings.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve mixed your metaphors there, I think.¡±


    Ellie grinned, tapping on the electronic screen mounted on the counter to order more food. ¡°Want anything? I invited you out, so I¡¯ll pay.¡±


    Cal shrugged. ¡°No, I¡¯m alright.¡±


    ¡°Seriously, you¡¯re just going to drink a single cup of water and watch me eat multiple entrees? You¡¯re going to make me shy.¡± Ellie frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t really eat a lot of the meals you cook, either. I always noticed that. They¡¯re so good, but you hardly take a bite. Why is that?


    Cal shrugged again. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I guess I don¡¯t have a big appetite in general. I didn¡¯t have big meals growing up.¡±


    Ellie tapped on the electronic screen. ¡°I get that. The meals my family ate were always small ¡ª and I know why that was, I¡¯m not complaining ¡ª but I got kind of tired of it after a while. That¡¯s why I¡¯m taking my time living here to eat so much delicious food! And it¡¯s all so delicious, seriously, how can I not take advantage?¡±


    She pointed her fork at Cal. ¡°Yet you¡¯ve gone the other direction. You¡¯re not a person who seems to enjoy food a lot, do you?¡±


    Cal shrugged. ¡°I guess not.¡±


    Ellie shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re incredible. Okay, let me put it another way. What¡¯s your favorite food?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Geez, your favorite food dude.¡± Ellie¡¯s brown eyes furrowed in annoyance. ¡°It¡¯s a straightforward question, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t say anything for a second. ¡°Tangerines.¡±


    Ellie blinked. ¡°Tangerines? That¡¯s unexpected. I¡¯ve never seen you eat one.¡±


    ¡°Why would I eat one?¡±


    As they had been talking, Ellie had been casually tapping on the touchscreen menu. But now she fully turned her attention to Cal, an expression between annoyance and confusion on her face. ¡°What the- what do you mean? Why wouldn¡¯t you eat one if they¡¯re your favorite food?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Cal¡¯s eyes lit up in understanding. ¡°You meant favorite to eat? In that case, I don¡¯t have one.¡±


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    Ellie was completely nonplussed. ¡°What else could I possibly mean with that question, you-¡±


    She laid her cheek on the counter, defeated. ¡°You know what, never mind. You win, boss. I don¡¯t get it. Every time I speak with you I feel like I¡¯m folding back the layer of an onion that just keeps on going forever.¡±


    Cal casually took another sip of water. ¡°I thought when we ran into each other on campus you were just inviting me out to chill, but you want to talk about something as random as this?¡±


    ¡°I did just want to hang,¡± pouted Ellie, drumming her fingers on the counter. ¡°You were sick, so I thought it would be nice for you to get out a bit. But I guess, it just feels like every conversation we have gets immediately derailed when I learn about some other ridiculous aspect of your personality.¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t put your head down there, people eat off it.¡±


    ¡°Oh hush,¡± Ellie flicked her long fingers in Cal¡¯s direction. ¡°Let me internalize.¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t say anything for a long moment. David Bowie sang over the speakers.


    He leaned his head to look squarely at Ellie, whose face was still horizontal on the counter. ¡°I really don¡¯t think I¡¯m that strange. I mean, I spend the most time with Mel, and she calls me ¡°boring¡± or ¡°too serious¡± every five seconds. I was under the impression that I have a pretty neutral personality.¡±


    Ellie raised her head sharply, making her dreads bounce. ¡°Oh, come on, Mel doesn¡¯t count! She¡¯s blinded by-¡±


    She stopped. ¡°Well, she doesn¡¯t count. And hey, maybe I¡¯m just overthinking things regarding your personality, but I think Bridget picks up on this, too. It¡¯s like this: I consider myself a pretty good people person-¡±


    Some fries arrived, delivered by a rectangular robot with a smiley face drawn on its smooth, featureless white face.


    ¡°I feel like I get people, read them, you know?¡± Ellie took a fry, ate it, and nodded in approval. ¡°Mel is a sweet, romantic kind of girl ¡ª erm, ghost, ghost girl. Aina is pretty stuffy, but harmless, probably. Ram is quiet but has more going on under the hood, I think. Bridget¡­ well, if I had to pick anyone to win, it would be her.¡±


    Cal watched her dip a fry into a little cup of ketchup. ¡°What does that even mean?¡±


    ¡°But you-¡± Here Ellie pointed at him with the fry, and Cal dodged a flying speck of ketchup. ¡°I can¡¯t get a read on you. Like, you¡¯re polite and intelligent and calm and all those things, but then you¡¯ll say something completely out of left field that will throw me off.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be sorry, tell me your preferences. Let me understand. Tell the basic, boring things about you. Like, what¡¯s your favorite movie?¡±


    Cal clicked his tongue. ¡°Don¡¯t have one. I didn¡¯t really watch movies growing up.¡±


    ¡°Dude what? Okay, how about music? You into music?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    Ellie put her face in her hands. ¡°For stars¡¯ sake. What¡¯s your type? What kind of girls do you like?¡±


    Cal considered the question. ¡°Girls that wipe their boots on the welcome mat before entering a house, I guess.¡±


    Ellie banged the counter in frustration and leaned aggressively towards Cal, which made him flinch. ¡°That is not an answer! Are you trying to pick a fight?¡±


    ¡°...I¡¯m just sitting here drinking my water, Ellie¡­¡±


    Ellie heaved a great sigh, her indignation quickly fading. She ruthfully ate another fry. ¡°You can¡¯t give me anything more specific? Hair color? Personality quirk? Something like that? Hell, I¡¯ll take preferred boob size at this point.¡±


    Cal bit his lip, as if thinking hard about something. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you. I don¡¯t think about things like that.¡±


    ¡°...You really don¡¯t, do you?¡±


    Ellie leaned back on her stool deep in thought, even her food temporarily forgotten. Up until this point, her conversation with Cal had been playful if investigative, but her detached casualness had only been a bulwark against showing a more concerned side to Cal, against showing that the questions she was asking weren¡¯t entirely made in folly.


    It was overall an odd, disquieting feeling. Ellie seemed to feel like this whenever she talked with Cal ¡ª she had felt it even the first day she had met him. She remembered walking into the kitchen and seeing him there, outlined against the morning light, his dark eyes gazing at her, through her. It had made her pause: that sight, this tall boy with the sad face. Ellie had never felt intimidated, or frightened, or uncomfortable in his presence. After all, by all impressions, Cal was quite personable and had hardly said a bad word about anyone. But it was always off, always slanted. Her conversations with him seemed to go perpetually in circles, never reaching any greater understanding. Ellie was a girl who couldn¡¯t truly befriend who she couldn¡¯t understand.


    Seriously boss, if I¡¯m being honest, you creep me out a little, sometimes. I can¡¯t help it. The way you act occasionally ¡ª as if you¡¯re simply an outline of a person with all the details missing. It¡¯s like¡­ it¡¯s like you¡¯ve never once considered anything that could make you happier.


    You¡¯ve got no appetite, Cal,¡± Ellie said slowly, the color of her eyes mixing with the lights of the diner, ¡°that¡¯s your issue. You¡¯ll break somebody¡¯s heart one day, if you carry on the way you are.¡±


    Cal met her ponderous stare with calm apathy. ¡°Maybe.¡± He paused. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe I already did. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d know.¡±


    The energy of the conversation had fizzled out, replaced by an awkward silence and 70s radio hits. Lunch hour was almost over. It was nearly time for both of them to return to the university campus.


    ¡°I¡¯ve thought about what you said.¡± Cal broke the tension at last. He had reached over and taken a fry from Ellie¡¯s pile, which she had abandoned. ¡°From earlier.¡±


    ¡°Mmm?¡± responded Ellie, raising her eyes and propping her elbow on the counter in the same way that Cal had done. ¡°Which part? About appetite?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cal said the word almost shyly, and he played with the ends of his dark hair. ¡°About girls. My type.¡±


    Ellie¡¯s familiar smile returned to her lips, instantly evaporating her look of uncertainty. ¡°Oh, really? Please elaborate. Lay it out, all the cards. I¡¯m at the edge of my seat.¡±


    Cal took a deep breath as if preparing for some difficult challenge. ¡°I kinda have a thing for¡­¡± His voice went quieter, and Ellie leaned in a little to hear properly. ¡°...I think mature, responsible girls are pretty cute.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmmmm¡­¡± Ellie grinned widely and punched him in the shoulder. ¡°I see you, boss. Right on.¡±


    ¡°Ow,¡± Cal massaged his arm. ¡°Why so hard?¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± said Ellie, ignoring him. ¡°More of my food is here. Think I can take them to go?¡±

 Chapter 25: Aina Is Owed Everything

    [October 13, 2042]


    There was always a certain tension between Aina: fourth princess of Luvinia, and Cal, the caretaker of Otter Manor ¡ª a quiet antipathy that electrified the air and made the atmosphere awkward. Everyone else living at Otter Manor had noticed and accepted it long ago. Ram would leave the room whenever it manifested. Ellie found it funny. Mel seemed silently annoyed that anyone could dislike Cal to such a degree.


    Bridget Abigail Dornlathe, who cared deeply for both Cal and Aina, had employed many tactics in order to persuade them to get along. When she was alone with either one, she would subtly drop hints about the other¡¯s good features into the conversation.


    ¡°You know, my lady was known as quite the famous beauty back home,¡± Bridget told Cal one morning as they prepared breakfast together, wearing matching aprons that Cal had bought with his last paycheck. ¡°She was known as the Flaming Jewel of Luvinia. My lady¡¯s entire family had red hair, but hers was thought to be of an especially mesmerizing and vivid shade.¡±


    Cal had looked at her for a long, long moment, and then resumed cutting vegetables. ¡°Uh-huh,¡± he had said dully.


    ¡°You know, Mr. Cal has a quite handsome, dignified look about him, don¡¯t you agree?¡± Bridget had asked Aina one night as they prepared for bed. She was brushing Aina¡¯s long red hair with a brush, and both girls had changed into long white nightgowns. ¡°He quite reminds me of the young noble lords back home. I wager if he dressed the part, he would blend right into royal society.¡±


    Here, Aina had turned to look at Bridget with a horrified expression, and then settled a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Bridget, are you feeling well? You seem quite confused. That peasant looks like an emancipated rat with an attitude problem.¡±


    After these unsuccessful attempts, Bridget had adopted a new strategy. She would design some activity or hangout that involved herself, Aina, and Cal, and then suddenly ¡°remember¡± that she had some chore to attend to. She would make a hasty exit with hasty apologies, and then leave her two bickering friends alone, hoping that through repeated proximity they would finally reach a place of mutual understanding.


    Currently, it was one of those times. After dinner, Bridget had invited Cal for tea in the kitchen with herself and Aina (which he had only accepted because of his fondness of the princess¡¯ attendant), and then not even five minutes had passed before Bridget suddenly pushed her teacup away and stood up.


    ¡°Oh dear,¡± she said robotically, staring at nobody in particular, ¡°I have forgotten to hang your dresses in the closet, my lady. I shall be back momentarily.¡±


    She hurried out the door, leaving Cal and Aina alone, after which the two had exchanged glances.


    In truth, the relationship between the two wasn¡¯t quite as heatedly hostile as it currently appeared. After a certain pair of chess games, the caretaker and the princess had eased to a more calm and relatively respectful mode of being ¡ª the words and feelings they had exchanged that day being too sincere to allow them to fall back into bitter hatred. They certainly did not like each other, and mostly only reluctantly tolerated each other¡¯s company, but they could, as they did now, stay in the same room in silence without being dragged into an argument.


    This day, however, Aina seemed to have something on her mind. She frowned, played with the rim of her teacup, before finally exhaling a deep breath of air and turning her eyes onto Cal. ¡°She¡¯s done it again. Bridget is such a smart girl, I do wonder how she supposed we wouldn¡¯t notice this startingly obvious tactic of hers?¡±


    ¡°She wants us to get along, I suppose,¡± Cal said. ¡°Who knows why?¡±


    ¡°Bridget has always been a kindhearted girl, even since we were both small. She has an endearing tendency to see the best in others.¡± Aina flashed a mocking grin in Cal¡¯s direction. ¡°That must be why she enjoys your presence, peasant, and is blind to your many deficiencies of personality. Otherwise, she would see the way you treat me, a princess!¡±


    ¡°I own up to many flaws, but that is not one of them,¡± Cal said flatly.


    The atmosphere crackled like bent tinfoil. The antagonism between the caretaker and the princess was building once again, more subtly, more darkly than it had before. The two were beginning to reach the crux of their dislike, which they had been circling for weeks.


    Something ugly and hostile suddenly ignited in the princess. A straw too far had been placed.


    ¡°You-¡± Aina broke off, and then took a sip of tea angrily. Then she slapped the cup back down on the table with a thud. ¡°Are you not ashamed, peasant, of the way you continue to treat me? I understand that you were not raised with the proper manners, but the least you can do is exhibit some decorum, show me the respect that I am owed-¡±


    ¡°¡®Owed?¡¯¡± Cal echoed irritably. ¡°What precisely are you owed from me?¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Aina¡¯s green eyes widened in sincere confusion, as if she didn¡¯t understand the question. ¡°I am- I am¡­¡± She stammered, shaking her head. ¡°I am the daughter of P¨¢dhraic V, the supreme and unquestioned ruler of Luvinia. Unquestioned! Do you hear?! I am owed everything!¡±


    She had raised her voice, a strained franticness entering her tone, which made Cal lean back with surprise. He had seen Aina animated with frustration, anger, or excitement before, but this was different. A look that was not her own was entering her face, and words not her own were exiting her mouth. She looked rather strange.


    ¡°Do you hear me, peasant?!¡± Aina banged her hand on the table, wincing as she did it. ¡°I am owed my crown, and my jewels, and my ornate dresses, and the beauty you see upon my face! I am owed and I lack for nothing! I will not be spoken to like I am nothing, an annoyance, a blight, someone not deserving of attention. I have had enough of that! People are not born equal, and I am proof-¡±


    She stopped. Her lip quivered. She sat down.


    The princess had noticed the way Cal was looking at her: like he had never seen her before in his life. It was the same way people back home used to look at her.


    Aina didn¡¯t say anything for a moment. Then her voice came: quiet and self-conscious.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Cal.¡± She seemed to be shrinking into her chair, all thoughts of dignity and superiority forgotten.


    Cal didn¡¯t respond for a moment, trying to get over his surprise at her behavior and get his thoughts back into place. ¡°I¡­ accept your apology. Are you alright?¡±


    Aina took a deep breath. ¡°Yes. Yes, I am. That was¡­ unworthy of myself. I hope Bridget didn¡¯t hear any of that¡­¡± She looked anxiously around the room, her long scarlet hair swaying around her head. ¡°Oh, this is all pathetic. If Didi heard me say that¡­¡±


    She trailed off. Cal watched her curiously ¡ª at her red face, at her slightly shaking hands. It seemed to him that she was reliving some moment of trauma in her own mind, and had forgotten him for the moment.


    ¡°Do you need a tissue?¡± he asked finally.


    ¡°No,¡± Aina sniffled, wiping her nose with her wrist. ¡°No, that¡¯s alright.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you a tissue.¡± Cal rose, and opened a kitchen cabinet, handing the princess the box inside.


    She blew her nose loudly. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    With this short exchange, the antagonism and the discomfort had faded in an instant. There was now a peculiar atmosphere ¡ª one that had not existed between Cal and Aina before ¡ª one that encouraged vulnerability and sincerity.


    Aina blew her nose again. She wasn¡¯t quite crying, but her eyes were wide and watery.


    ¡°Oh...¡± she said with deep breaths. ¡°You always seem to throw me off my pace. I shout and I yell but I never say anything of value. I¡¯m sick of it, peasant, truly. I¡¯m sick of how pathetic I feel in your presence.¡±


    Aina shook her head. ¡°Be honest, as I know you like to be. You hate me, don¡¯t you? No, don¡¯t sugarcoat it. That''s the truth, isn¡¯t it? You cannot stand me. I see it in your eyes.¡±


    Cal opened his mouth to respond, closed it, opened it again. He couldn¡¯t meet Aina¡¯s depressed, green eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Cal began, trying to choose his words carefully. ¡°I don¡¯t hate you. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m capable of hating anyone. You annoy me, sure. I find your behavior aggressive and condescending more often than not, but I¡¯ve seen how you behave with Bridget. You are capable of warmth and delicacy, even if that is never directed towards me. I would like to believe those are the characteristics that are closer to the core of who you truly are.¡±


    Aina¡¯s lip quivered again. She held her pale hands against the breast of her dress, looking downward at nothing.


    ¡°Do you¡­¡± Cal interrupted himself, as he tried to form his thought more coherently. ¡°Do you remember that real first conversation we had? After the chess games, about two weeks ago? You got really competitive.¡±


    A ghost of a smile lingered on Aina¡¯s face despite the redness around her eyes, and she nodded. ¡°Yes, I remember. I was soundly defeated, if I recall.¡±


    ¡°What you said at that time stuck in my mind,¡± Cal said, fixing his dark eyes intensely on Aina¡¯s face, a gaze she met curiously. ¡°You revealed your pride in the game, in your skill ¡ª and it wasn¡¯t the pride you usually exude ¡ª no, it felt more genuine, more vivid, like it was something you really meant. You confided in me how that pride sustained you, back home. And that was true. It felt true. I think I saw you for real at that moment.¡±


    He paused. ¡°You strike me as a person who has been denied at every opportunity the connections a person needs to grow and nurture their soul. I think you have denied a great many things, Aina. That is my sincere impression of you. And if you make mistakes, or push others away, it is because of that fact: because there is something within yourself that you would never reveal willingly.¡±


    Cal stopped, and glanced at Aina. There was something in her eyes he couldn¡¯t read. The expression a cockroach makes when it is suddenly exposed to a spotlight.


    ¡°You mentioned your parents only once,¡± continued Cal. ¡°And you seemed quite dismissive, like they wouldn¡¯t even notice if you disappeared¡­¡±


    He rubbed his nose, not sure if what he was about to say was wise. ¡°You might bristle at the comparison, but at that moment¡­ I thought perhaps we were a little similar, princess. Perhaps more similar than anyone else in Otter Manor. So no, I don¡¯t hate you. At least not in any way I do not already hate in myself.¡±


    Aina stared back at him, too lost for words. The last trickles of dusk caught her hair, making it glow reddish-purple. She looked practically ethereal in the glow of the late-afternoon sun.


    Not another word was spoken between the two. They sipped their tea, unsure of how to audibly express the emotions swirling between them ¡ª yet the desire to fight, or to fight in the future, has dissipated with the fading light. They know longer wanted to do harm to one another. Here now, for the first time, was a desire to understand one another better.


    This is how Bridget found them, upon returning from her made-up chore. Immediately, she noticed that something was different between the caretaker and her lady. Instead of interrupting the calm atmosphere, the attendant silently took her tea and sat down, her golden buttons glistening in the light ¡ª a wry smile on her face.


    There was a quiet tenderness between the three. For now, there was no pain blowing in from the past. The present was warm and secure.

 Chapter 26: Sirius Meets the Tenants

    [October 22, 2042]


    Cal had told Sirius what to expect in his messages on FoxChat, but the young man still felt a degree of surreality as he faced the large wooden doors. The 19th-century-style mansion was only a fifteen-minute walk from the city center, but perched upon its small island of sloped green grass facing the bay, it almost felt like he had entered a different world after passing through the iron gate at the bottom of the hill. Sirius tied his long black hair into a ponytail behind his head, his green eyes glimmering as they surveyed the calm ocean that hugged the coastline of Extremis City. His nostrils twitched. He could smell sea salt on the wind and freshly cut grass. Everything was shimmering slightly as the slowly melting sun receded down past the distant horizon.


    This is nice, he thought to himself, Cal¡¯s got a good gig, that¡¯s no lie. A place that feels so close yet so isolated from everything else, like an enchanted mansion in those fantasy books I read as a kid.


    Sirius took a deep breath, drinking in through his eyes once more the beautiful sight of the emerald lawn and the glittering sea, and then turned to face the doors again.


    There was no buzzer at the iron gate or electronic doorbell under the portico, so shrugging to himself, Sirius knocked as loud as he deemed polite upon the door.


    ¡°Bridget!¡± shouted a shrill voice from the depths of the mansion, ¡°there¡¯s someone at the door!¡±


    Another voice, much closer, called back with a slightly tired tone. ¡°Yes, my lady, I¡¯m aware. I¡¯m answering it now.¡±


    There was the heavy stepping of feet, and the door opened inward to reveal a tall and pretty young woman with brown hair that fell past her shoulder blades. She had a soft, maternal sort of face ¡ª that was Sirius¡¯ first impression ¡ª but the impression was thrown off by the woman¡¯s clothing. She was wearing a dark and expensive-looking uniform that reminded Sirius of a Napoleonic officer, which might have seemed silly, but there was something about the solid way the woman held herself and the clear strength of her body that made it suit her.


    She beheld him with thoughtful brown eyes. ¡°Hello there,¡± she said pleasantly. ¡°Can I help you?¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± Sirius felt a little awkward suddenly. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t know if Cal mentioned-¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± The woman clapped her gloved white hands together, a pleased expression coming over her face. ¡°Of course, it completely slipped my mind. You¡¯re Mr. Cal¡¯s friend, yes? He did mention to all of us this morning he was having someone over for dinner and a film.¡±


    The woman extended her hand. ¡°I am Bridget Abigail Dornlathe. It¡¯s wonderful to make your acquaintance.¡±


    Sirius, a laid-back first-year university student who frequently skipped classes and lived in the school dormitory with his peers, wasn¡¯t used to this outward manner of formality, but he extended his own arm and shook without flinching. ¡°Sirius Allange. It¡¯s likewise a pleasure.¡±


    ¡°Come in, Mr. Sirius.¡± Bridget gestured to him to step into the mansion. ¡°Mr. Cal got held up at the supermarket. Apparently, there was a desperate sale on eggs that he absolutely needed to take advantage of.¡± Here she smiled to herself, just for a moment. ¡°He''s a very conscientious person, especially when it comes to money for food. I suppose when a person cooks so much they become very particular about these sorts of things.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Sirius, ¡°I have that impression myself.¡±


    Sirius remembered the time that Cal had discovered he bought lunch every day from the food trucks on the campus and immediately launched into a lecture about how Sirius was being irresponsible with his money (¡°The market is a ten-minute walk from your dorm, where you can buy the same items for half the cost!¡±). It was the first time Sirius had seen his strange friend that passionate about anything. Until that point, he had assumed Cal was some kind of Buddhist monk in training, unmoved by the material world.


    Awaiting inside the spacious entryway was the most beautiful girl that Sirius had ever seen in his life. He didn¡¯t even have time to admire the interior of the mansion, its smooth wooden columns or tasteful design, because his eyes were drawn immediately to the pale face of the girl. She had perfect unblemished white skin, piercing eyes the color of a wide meadow, and hair so red it seemed to catch the air on fire ¡ª a color that nicely complimented the beautifully made white-and-blue dress that the girl was wearing.


    At that moment, the girl seemed to Sirius like the perfect encapsulation of feminine virtue, and there was not a single thing that could assuage him of that notion.


    And then she spoke.


    ¡°Ah, I see!¡± She sharply pointed a finger at Sirius, like a child gesturing at animals in the zoo behind the glass. ¡°You are that peasant¡¯s acquaintance, yes? How amusing! While I must rebuke you for your choice of confidante, I am a gracious host, and will entertain and beguile you, as a royal member of the the great nation-¡±


    ¡°My lady,¡± interjected Bridget with a slightly scolding tone. ¡°Do you remember what we discussed earlier?¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Aina paused, finger still hovering in the air, her face furrowed in concentration. Then she broke out into a wide smile. ¡°Yes, of course! Who do you suppose I am? Commoner!¡± She jabbed her finger at Sirius. ¡°What is your name?¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± Sirius suddenly wanted to immediately leave the house and this conversation. ¡°I¡¯m Sirius. I¡¯m a classmate at Cal¡¯s university. We¡¯re in the program together studying renewable forms of-¡±


    ¡°Your name has been noted!¡± Aina interrupted, clearly not finished with the speech she had rehearsed in her head. ¡°My name is Aina! No last name! Memorize it!¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Sirius quietly, wishing she would lower her voice.


    ¡°Good!¡± Aina smugly put her hands on her hips. ¡°I am an ordinary, simple commoner like yourself, rolling in the dirty substratum of this society. I desperately search for purpose as I am crushed under the edicts of kings and the greed of wealthy merchants. I claw and spit and struggle, yet I cannot raise myself above my inherent class, for the game is rigged and all ladders to advancement have been lifted. I have no notion of where my next meal will come from ¡ª  whether it be tepid gruel or the writhing rats I have caught with my net!¡±


    Aina (no last name) held a hand dramatically to her modest breast. ¡°Alas, I am damned. If I were only like those shimmering, beautiful nobles, sitting at their wonderful banquets where music fills the air and wine flows like water!¡±


    ¡°Very good, my lady,¡± said Bridget wearily, ¡°very good. You ought to become a playwright. Though if I may add a note, your next meal comes from Mr. Cal and ¡ª as he texted in the group chat ¡ª he is making quesadillas tonight. Do not also forget that you must finish practicing your¡­ abilities before dinner is ready. ¡±


    Aina seemed a little deflated. ¡®I know that,¡± she said, her voice at a more reasonable register. She looked at Sirius. ¡°Excuse me, I will see you a little later. I have matters to attend to upstairs.¡±


    Aina frowned to herself and sulkingly made her way up the large stairway at the end of the room, her dignified dress dragging behind her, before vanishing.


    There was an awkward tension in the air before Bridget turned to Sirius with a regretful expression on her face. ¡°My apologies,¡± she said, dipping her head as if bowing slightly. ¡°My lady can be a handful. In truth, Mr. Sirius, she has had a quite emotional week or so and has been very tied up in herself fighting contradictory impulses. She would never admit this openly, but I think today she saw an opportunity to have some fun and enjoy the role she was given for the evening.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± said Sirius, more out of appreciation for Bridget¡¯s apologetic sincerity than because he actually understood what precisely she meant with her words. ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but is she¡­ like a roleplayer?¡±


    There was a long, long moment where Bridget¡¯s face was utterly expressionless, as if she were considering something of the utmost importance with every fiber of her being.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, finally. ¡°That is exactly it. And she is very dedicated to her role as a princess from the Middle Ages in hiding from assassins, so please don''t be put off too greatly by her antics. I promise you, she¡¯s not a bad person.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, not a bad person, just stupid,¡± came a new voice, as a door slammed. Cal had entered, holding two heavy-looking grocery bags. ¡°Hey, Sirius. Welcome.¡±


    ¡°Hey man, thanks for having me.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Cal,¡± said Bridget, a slight pout on her lips even as she took a grocery bag from Cal to decrease his load. ¡°I wish you wouldn¡¯t insert those jabs into your speech. It¡¯s not very kind.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know.¡±


    The two walked shoulder to shoulder down a hall, until Cal turned and beckoned Sirius. ¡°Dinner will be ready in like a half-hour, I just need to prep some veggies and preheat the oven. Can I get you anything to drink?¡±


    Sirius had never seen Cal cook ¡ª though he had always seen the result of it in the boxed lunches Cal brought to eat between classes. Cal moved with ease and precision, indicating his comfort and talent in the kitchen. His dark eyes were filled with the light of concentration. It made him look professional and austere, and he seemed to compliment the young woman standing beside him. Bridget had tied her head up as she worked, diligently pouring drinks, washing, and setting up places on the dining table for six people as Cal finished preparing food.


    The two worked in tandem with one another, familiar with the posture and movement habits of the other. Bridget had her head slightly tilted towards Cal, who was bent over the stove, saying something quietly in his ear. Her brown tied-up hair fell between her neck and her shoulder blade as she did this.


    A black elbow nudged Sirius. ¡°They¡¯re kind of cute together, huh?¡±


    Sirius blinked and looked to the left to see Ellie smiling knowingly. She had come in earlier, sweating from a run in her crop top and shorts, and had plopped herself down in the chair across from Sirius, making herself comfortable. Sirius had seen Elli before on campus ¡ª always dashing to and fro, her black intricate braids bouncing behind her ¡ª but he had never spoken to her before. However, this hadn¡¯t seemed to bother her at all. Upon seeing Sirius in the kitchen, an expression had come over her bright face that appeared to say ¡°Oh right, that was today¡±, and she had launched into conversation with him with ease.


    Now she had reached across the table to nudge his arm.


    Sirius blinked again, and then glanced back over to where Cal and Bridget were standing. ¡°Oh,  I didn¡¯t know. Are they-¡± He gestured at both of them with his hand in turn. ¡°Are they¡­ you know, together?¡±


    Ellie, who had been leaning forward over the table conspiratorially, let out a stifled snort. ¡°¡®Together¡¯? No-¡± She grinned. ¡°No, not quite. Boss is a little bit too neurotic for that and Bridget is too polite. Though¡­ who knows ¡ª  maybe ¡ª it isn¡¯t completely out of the question.¡±


    ¡°¡®Boss?¡¯¡±


    Ellie¡¯s eyes widened, as if just realizing what she said. ¡°Ah, my head is ahead of my mouth. My mom told me once that¡¯s a common problem with me. ¡®Boss¡¯ is my term of endearment for Cal.¡±


    Sirius smiled at the implication. ¡°¡®Boss?¡¯ Why ¡®boss?¡¯ That¡¯s a pretty unusual nickname.¡±


    ¡°Gosh, dude, I¡¯m trying to remember.¡± Ellie had begun to prop her head against her elbow, her eyes thoughtfully distant. ¡°I sort of just started doing it without a reason. This is how I know you¡¯re a visitor here; otherwise, you would be acclimated to the nonsense you hear and would no longer question any of it.¡±


    She clicked her tongue. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s odd, I guess. I just started thinking of Cal in that sort of way at some point. Not as an authority, per se, but ¡ª but sort of as the nucleus that holds all of us here together.¡±


    Her eyes, often so relaxed and chipper, found Sirius¡¯ and they had an aspect of intrigue. ¡°He¡¯s an odd duck, our Cal. You¡¯ve noticed, right? If you''re his friend I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed.¡±


    Another smile. ¡°I have.¡±


    A moment of silence passed between the two.


    Bridget called over to Ellie to fetch Ram and ¡°my lady¡± ¡ª dinner was in five minutes.

 Chapter 27: Bridget Smokes a Cigarette

    [October 22, 2042]


    Dinner was a loud, chaotic affair ¡ª yet seemed to pass in relative comfort, as if all at the table were used to the antics and habits of everyone else at the table. Sirius sat silently, watching it all, feeling both included and separated.


    Aina complained ¡ª as she seemed deigned to ¡ª about a lot of things: the look of the food, how long it had taken to prepare, the type of cheese used in the recipe not being ¡°fancy enough¡±, but ultimately she ended up cleaning her plate, and with a napkin pressed against her lips, softly added, ¡°Well, peasant, I suppose it really wasn¡¯t all that bad.¡±


    Ellie ate aggressively and gladly. She seemed to inhale the food that was placed before her, but to Sirius it somehow never seemed gluttonous, even as she stood up to fetch a third helping of the meal. Rather, she seemed to eat with joy ¡ª like it was a rare and precious gift, and if she did not take full advantage of it when she could, she would regret it for the rest of her life.


    Bridget and Cal ate slowly and carefully. They were seated next to one another at the far end of the table, like they were the mother and father of a strange, idiosyncratic family. Sirius would have smiled to himself at this amusing image, but he found himself distracted by how little Cal was eating the food he himself had prepared. He nibbled at the quesadilla, drank some water, ignored Aina¡¯s complaints and admonished Ellie when she began to push her chair out in order to get a fourth helping. By the end of the meal, he had taken maybe two bites from his food.


    It¡¯s warm here, thought Sirius. Sitting around a table, having a meal together. When was the last time I did something like this? I¡¯m always getting delivery in my dorm room or eating on the go. And back home, I never did this with my family. Eating together, talking together, cooking and cleaning together ¡ª it¡¯s not so bad.


    Finally, as they always seemed to, Sirius found his eyes subtly watching the last and most quiet tenant of Otter House. Ram was seated on the chair closest to the door, head lowered so that her huge crown of curly blond hair covered part of her face as she ate her food. She only spoke when spoken to and seemed perpetually anxious, her blue eyes looking around the room, at the corners and window, as if expecting the appearance of some threat.


    Once, Sirius had tried talking with her. He had searched his brain for a topic of discussion, and then, trying to smile pleasantly, he addressed her. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re Ram, right?¡± He said this as if he wasn¡¯t entirely sure of her name. ¡°You¡¯re in the Computer Science program, aren¡¯t you? I¡¯ve got a friend who does that too. Is it interesting?¡±


    She had fixed him with her wide-eyed stare, the blueness of her eyes resembling a wide clear sky, and then nodded silently, before returning to her meal. Clearly, she had absolutely no interest in anything he would say, and that made him feel a little hollow in his stomach despite the meal he had just eaten.


    After dinner, the sun had already set, and so Cal wasted no time cleaning dishes and wiping crumbs, assisted by Bridget. When Sirius stood up to clear and wash his own plate, Cal shot him a cold stare and said, ¡°Don¡¯t you dare. You¡¯re a guest. Let me handle it, I¡¯ll only be a few minutes.¡±


    Sirius nodded silently and sat back down in his chair. Bridget smiled at him knowingly as she took his plate. ¡°He gets a little antsy about food, as I said.¡± She whispered in his ear. ¡°Let him tire himself out.¡±


    Once the dishes had been cleaned and tables wiped and the chairs straightened, Cal went to go fetch the movie (apparently Otter Manor still has a super-old-fashioned DVD player), herding Sirius, Aina, and Bridget into the living room on the other end of the first floor. Ellie had retired upstairs, claiming to have homework she couldn¡¯t procrastinate any longer on, and Ram had vanished without a word or trace.


    When Cal came back down, he was accompanied by a thin, pale girl that Sirius hadn¡¯t seen before; wearing a pure white sundress and walking over the carpet with bare feet. She had short black hair styled like a messy pixie-cut, where the ends of the hair seemed to stick up in the air as being pulled by electricity, and wide baby-blue eyes that blinked at Sirius inquisitively.


    She took a long look at Sirius, blushed heavily, and then stepped behind Cal in a way that suggested she was attempting to be subtle, her dress shifting around her legs.


    Cal frowned and turned his head to look at the new girl. ¡°What are you doing? Introduce yourself.¡±


    The girl stuck her chin upward to glare at him. ¡°I¡¯m shy, okay?!¡± She hissed. ¡°You should have given me more of a heads-up!¡±


    ¡°Since when? You¡¯ve been talking my ear off all week and now you decide to be timid?¡±


    She gripped his sleeve insistently. ¡°You know I¡¯m bad with new people!¡±


    Cal shook his head, and then with his hands pantomiming in a presenting fashion, framed the new girl with the extension of his arms. ¡°Sirius, this is Mel, my roommate that I¡¯ve told you so much about.¡±


    Then he faced Mel and repeated the same motion in reverse. ¡°Mel, this is Sirius, my friend from university.¡±


    Startled, Mel looked at Cal and then at Sirius, her wide blue looking him over top to bottom. ¡°You¡¯re real?¡± She said softly. ¡°I assumed he made you up to trick me into thinking that he was well-adjusted and charismatic in social settings.¡±


    Behind, out of direct eye-sight in the living room, Aina let out a loud snort, to which Bridget¡¯s hushed voice could be heard saying: ¡°My lady, please be polite!¡±


    Sirius laughed, unable to hide his amusement at Mel¡¯s preformative behavior, which was clearly cloaked in genuine affection. ¡°I¡¯m real, all right. Nice to meet you, Mel.¡± He wiped the corner of his eye. ¡°Cal tells me you¡¯re also really into old low-budget horror movies.¡±


    Mel¡¯s eyes lit up and she took an uncertain step closer. ¡°Oh? You claim to be a fellow aficionado?¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Sirius grinned, delighted to showcase his knowledge, to which Cal and his other friends at the university were completely sick of him talking about. ¡°Try me. I know them all, from Murder Murder Hotel to The Revenge of the Witch of the Summer Creek.¡±


    Cal mouthed the titles to himself, a confused expression on his face.


    ¡°Aha! So you¡¯re no pushover then!¡± Mel took another step forward, her bare toes pointed towards Sirius. ¡°Then I¡¯m sure you can tell me your opinion of V! The Return of Terror!¡±


    Sirius raised an eyebrow. ¡°A cult-classic camp masterpiece, of course.¡±


    ¡°Ohoho!¡± Mel did a little twirl that fluttered the hem of her dress before pointing a decisive finger at her sparring partner. ¡°And what of Frankenzirkel: Bad Babes of Blood?¡±


    ¡°Not Dostobovosky¡¯s best work, but an important entry to his filmography that tackles through its subtext his relationship to his mother, communism, and ultimately: Jesus Christ.¡±


    ¡°Hoho! And what¡¯s your take on the newest Canada Werewolves movie?¡±


    ¡°Pretty shit, to be honest.¡±


    Mel stared into Sirius¡¯ eyes, nodded slowly as if she had received some sage piece of wisdom, and then turned back towards Cal. ¡°See Cal, it¡¯s like I¡¯ve always told you, you¡¯re sorely lacking in this important regard. You ought to try to be more like my good friend Sirius, here.¡±


    ¡°And once again,¡± said Cal, brushing some lint from his shoulder. ¡°It all circles back to criticizing me. Come on, we should start the movie, it¡¯ll be late by the time it¡¯s over, and Sirius still needs to walk back to the dorm.¡±


    The moon was bright tonight ¡ª a white disc in a dark lake. Sirius gently exhaled, and sweet-smelling smoke rose into the black sky, translucent and coiling like the body of a snake. He had stepped out into the cold air to take a few puffs of his e-cigarette, which he had been craving all afternoon. There was currently an intermission to Go Go Ghoul Squad! (composed of fifteen minutes of an entirely black and soundless screen, which Mel had assured him was entirely in line with the thematic intention of the film) and so Sirius had taken the opportunity to step outside. He had wanted to take a hit or two, for sure, but he had always wanted to get some fresh air and reflect upon the things he had seen and learned. He didn¡¯t know what he was expecting out of Otter Manor, and the tall tales Cal had told him about the place certainly didn¡¯t help, but he found he was coming out of the experience with an entirely different impression than he had expected.


    A thin line of golden light hit underneath the portico as the front door opened, and the click of heavy boots stepped onto the concrete. Then a voice came. ¡°Oh! I¡¯m sorry, did I interrupt you?¡±


    Sirius lowered his gaze and met Bridget¡¯s brown eyes. ¡°Absolutely not, Ms. Bridget. Come join me.¡±


    He had started calling Bridget ¡®Ms. Bridget¡¯ over the course of the day without even intending to, subconsciously emulating how Cal addressed the young woman. He had no idea what she had done to earn the respect of his self-serious friend, but somehow he did not doubt that she deserved it. Besides, she had repeatedly called him ¡®Mr. Sirius¡¯, so it only seemed right to return the strangely formal modes of address.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Bridget bowed her head slightly, and stepped out further, closing the door to Otter Manor gently behind her. ¡°I hope you¡¯ve been enjoying your visit? I know we can be¡­ a lot.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± Sirius carefully fixed his ponytail, which was coming a little loose. ¡°I really am. Everything is chill, you know? Kinda weird, but chill. You¡¯re all good girls, I can tell.¡±


    He let out a small sigh. ¡°To be honest, part of the reason I came up here was to check on him. I mean, I like Cal, you know, but he¡¯s distant and says all sorts of weird stuff about ghosts and princesses-¡± (Here, it was hard to tell, but Sirius thought he saw Bridget flinch for a moment.) ¡°-and I know he¡¯s joking but it¡¯s really hard to understand his sense of humor. He¡¯s always such a stick in the mud typically. Oh, I like that about him, but still¡­¡±


    Sirius trailed off, losing track of his words under Bridget¡¯s gaze. She had undone a few of the buttons of her uniform to expose her bare neck to the cold air, bringing attention to her large chest. ¡°Well!¡± He said, quickly. ¡°I suppose I feel comforted. I was worried that I was his only friend, but he seems to be in good hands.¡±


    He nodded in the direction of Bridget. ¡°You certainly keep him in line.¡±


    Bridget smiled, not denying his words. Then her brown eyes looked at the cigarette Sirius held in his hand. ¡°Is that a cigar?¡±


    ¡°Cigarette, yeah. Do you smoke?¡±


    Bridget pursed her lips and grasped her hands together low by her hips. ¡°I used to¡­ a few years ago.¡± She brushed a strand of hair behind her ears. ¡°My mother eventually made me stop. It wasn¡¯t¡­ erm, it wasn¡¯t proper in her eyes for a young lady like me to engage in that sort of activity.¡±


    Sirius clicked his tongue in sympathy. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s a shame, though maybe she was just worried about your health. Your mom sounds pretty old-fashioned.¡±


    ¡°...Somewhat, yes. That¡¯s a good way of putting it.¡±


    He watched her eyes. ¡°Do you want a hit?¡± he said, offering the cigarette.


    Bridget stared at him with surprise, but then furrowed her eyes. ¡°Honestly¡­¡± She toothily grinned, as if she were a little girl hiding a secret. ¡°I really would. Just once.¡±


    ¡°Go crazy.¡± He handed her the slim tube. ¡°It¡¯s strawberry.¡±


    ¡°Strawberry? How unusual.¡± Bridget held the e-cigarette gingerly, as if she had never seen anything like it before. ¡°Back home, we didn¡¯t have anything resembling this.¡±


    She put it to her mouth and instantly coughed. ¡°Oh dear, it¡¯s¡­¡± Another cough, and she smiled cutely in embarrassment. ¡°You were not joking, Mr. Sirius. That¡¯s certainly strawberry.¡±


    Sirius smiled as well, and accepted the cigarette back from her, which she held outward from her body like it was a dangerous tool. ¡°You good?¡± he said.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m alright.¡± Bridget wiped her mouth. ¡°Out of practice, I suspect. Oh, my mother would really be horrified if she saw me now. She would kill me. Really¡­ properly kill me.¡±


    She giggled softly, straightening back up to her considerable height. Then suddenly, a worried look came over her face. ¡°If it isn¡¯t any issue, I would appreciate it if you don¡¯t tell this to Mr. Cal, Mr. Sirius. Or my lady- that is to say, not Aina either.¡±


    ¡°No problem. Though personally, you being open and non-judgmental about this sort of stuff makes me like you more.¡± Sirius shrugged. ¡°I thought you were a little overly formal, but you¡¯re pretty laid-back and cool, Ms. Bridget. I can see why Cal likes you.¡±


    She bashfully rubbed her gloved hands on her strong thighs. ¡°You¡¯re exaggerating, Mr. Sirius.¡±


    Sirius shrugged a second time. ¡°No, I really don¡¯t think I am.¡± He stuffed the cigarette back into his pocket, as sweet vapor danced upward through the air. ¡°Shall we go back inside and finish the movie? I want to see if the shy guy is able to confess his feelings to the ghoul that ate his roommate.¡±

 Chapter 28: Ram Is (Definitely) Not a Superhero (Part 1)

    [October 25, 2042]


    Needless to say, Pascal Clermont¡¯s life had taken a turn recently.


    While any outside observer would take one look at the circumstances of his life prior to arriving at Otter Manor and determine them to be both extraordinary and horrifyingly dramatic, Cal himself had always thought of his own life as fixed and determined: something that could have only ever happened one way. Therefore, there was no need to get anxious or depressed by the way that things had turned out, for in his mind, they only could have happened in the way they did.


    That said, Cal had a certain expectation when he had arrived at Otter Manor of attaining a kind of banal normality, one that had been immediately shattered after he had walked into his room and discovered an annoying ghost. The moment had reset his expectations of how his university life would turn out. Cal had once confided in Ram, as they sat together in the library, that his only true talent was acceptance. And accepted he had. Ghosts? Why not ¡ª people from all over the world had reported supernatural phenomena for hundreds of years. People from a sort of fantasy world or something? Well, after all, he had seen (and spoken with) the giant golden sheep himself, so denying the facts of the matter didn¡¯t seem particularly productive. Robots? A harder pill to swallow ¡ª  because technology, if unpredictable, typically moved in linear fashions ¡ª but also not impossible, though he would never admit that to Mel.


    To put it another way, Pascal Clermont was the ultimate nullifier of the extraordinary, the unlikely, the impossible. Through his calm actions and pragmatic reasoning, he robbed it of some of its inherent power. Through acceptance, he leveled the playing field of the world.


    Aren¡¯t you scared of anything? Mel had once asked him, a few days after they had met. The answer to this question was, simply: of course. There was something very particular, very ordinary that Cal couldn¡¯t stand with a fiber of his being. But it was a banal thing, his weakness. He was the sort of person only rendered useless, inept, or overcome in a very particular kind of situation. And so the bizarre situations that he had increasingly found himself in didn¡¯t bother him in the slightest.


    All this to say, in a long-winded way, that Cal didn¡¯t particularly react with surprise when a costumed figure crashed down the front windows of the store and crashed into a mounted display of cans.


    Cal had been, as he typically did after school was over, shopping for dinner that evening. He had wanted to cook something special ¡ª lasagna maybe ¡ª and had just been reaching for a can of tomato sauce when the costumed hero barreled through the glass. He caught the blur of movement out of the corner of his eyes, a blur of the uniform¡¯s colors: the blue spandex with red accents on the chest and arms. Even in the instant Cal had to register what was happening, he recognized the figure ¡ª how could he not? The figure was a topic of conversation on television nearly every time he watched the news with Aina, explaining to her names and concepts she didn¡¯t understand about this world.


    It was the masked vigilante who was the talk of the town in Extremis City: Shining Hope Guardian.


    This was what Cal realized in the first millisecond of action. In the second millisecond, he saw something else, something more abstract, a blur that caught the light of the organic diodes that were stitched upon the ceiling of the store. Something had been vaulted as Shining Hope Guardian slammed through glass, display sets, and shelves: a piece of wood ¡ª or perhaps aluminum ¡ª caught partly by the falling arc of the figure and propelled by the incredible momentum; now the object spun and whipped through the air and struck Cal right across his temple.


    The world blinked.


    There was shouting somewhere, terrified shoppers fleeing the scene as quickly as they could. Cal couldn¡¯t. Instead, he heavily kneeled on the hard epoxy, still holding in his left hand the small bag of groceries he had been collecting. With his right, he strangely reached for the can of tomatoes again, but now he could not reach. Cal paused, confused. Then he felt the side of his head with his right hand.


    Wet and slippery. A little uneven. There was red tomato sauce on his fingers when he withdrew his hand to study it.


    Cal closed his eyes and took a deep breath.


    Focus, he thought.


    The thoughts now came clear and automatic. He was bleeding. Quite badly. Probably not anything deadly to be concerned about, but it would be a miracle if he didn¡¯t have a concussion. What to do next? Move, first of all, get to a place away from the chaos, reassess, call a free ambulance using one of the city¡¯s many citizen-accessible emergency services. Yes, he should move. Stand up.


    Cal got shakily to his feet and immediately fell sideways. The food items in his bag scattered on the floor and his head hit the ground wound-first. He felt a strange numbness come over him.


    Meanwhile, Shining Hope Guardian was clambering to their feet, wiping dust and wood shaving off their costume. Any normal person would have had nearly every bone in their body broken from the impact of flying through a window at such incredible speed, but Shining Hope Guardian seemed barely dazed. They looked around, face obscured by the large blocky helmet that they wore, the visor dark and opaque. When they saw Cal lying on the ground, they let out a high-pitched squeak (the sound slightly muffled by the helmet), and sprang into action, crossing the floor and turning him over onto his back.


    ¡°Sir, sir? Can you hear me?¡± said Shining Hope Guardian, in a female, strangely familiar voice. ¡°We need to get you-¡±


    The voice broke off and a horrified shudder went through the hero¡¯s body. ¡°Wait,¡± came the voice again, small and trembling. A gloved hand slowly touched Cal¡¯s cheek, and then felt the blood coating the side of his head. ¡°Oh no¡­ oh no¡­¡±


    Cal turned his head slightly to look at the figure bending over him and the figure turned their helmeted head towards him in turn. A moment of silence passed as Shining Hope Guardian squeezed Cal¡¯s hand firmly, as if trying to transmit a message through the contact.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Then Cal spoke in a steady but delicate voice, his eyes fixated on a space a dozen feet or so away. ¡°Turn around,¡± he croaked.


    Immediately, as if activated by the words themselves, Shining Hope Guardian jumped to their feet and whirled around. Another suited figure, this one large and vaguely mechanical looking. They wore a black, bulky suit with sharp edges, and out of their head sprouted two horns that resembled those of a beetle. It would have been completely ridiculous looking if not for the legitimate intimidation that was created by the figure¡¯s size and strength.


    The beetle-horned figure strode into the store through the hole that had been created in the front-facing window, the tiles cracking slightly under the pressure of the feet. He walked with a dramatic preformativeness, a red cape flapping behind him, until he came to a pause in the middle of the store with his hands on his hips.


    He pointed boldly at the figure standing in front of Cal. ¡°Shining Hope Guardian!¡± He proclaimed loudly in a condescending voice. ¡°My greatest foe! You cannot run from my dark vengeance!¡±


    ¡°Hey, wait!¡± Shining Hope Guardian stretched out a hand, as if in truce. ¡°Beetle Boss, hold on for a moment! This is getting out of hand!¡±


    ¡°Bah,¡± Beetle Boss flapped his red cape in disdain. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have thought you a coward, Shining Hope Guardian! Surely a small tumble such as that wouldn¡¯t be enough to wind you? Now come, let us duel, your brightness versus my darkness, and see who the greater champion is! We shall battle across the streets and stars of this pathetic world, until nothing is left but the-¡±


    ¡°Beetle!¡± Shining Hope Guardian exclaimed in a pleading voice. ¡°I¡¯m being s-serious! Listen to me! Please¡­ Someone is hurt.¡±


    Beetle Boss tilted his helmeted head slightly as if confused. There were two white and round accents of color on the helmet, as if to stand in for insect eyes. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Look! It happened when you threw me through the building!¡±


    Beetle Boss leaned forward slightly, as if noticing for the first time that Cal was laying on the ground. He didn¡¯t respond for a moment, and then his voice came again, robbed of all its energy. ¡°Oh¡­ oh no. I- I wasn¡¯t intending to-¡±


    ¡°Never mind, help me!¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t see the rest of the scene play out, in fact, things had been swimming in front of his eyes for a while. Darkness trickled like a thin stream into the corners of his vision, and then began to pool.


    Cal woke up on the lawn expanse outside Otter Manor. It was warm for October: the sunlight was catching off the waves of the bay and leaving a soft warm film on Cal¡¯s face. There was no wind. Somewhere near a bird made a chirping noise.


    Some dots of blood dotted the green grass beside his head.


    ¡°You moved me,¡± Cal said to the costumed hero who was kneeling beside him.


    ¡°Was that a good idea?¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± Shining Hope Guardian flinched, seemingly unaware that he had woken up. ¡°W-what do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it bad to move someone who might have a concussion?¡±


    A pause. Then a high-pitched exclamation. ¡°Oh no! Is that true- I need, wait-¡± Shining Hope Guardian stood up in panic, unsure of what to do.


    Perhaps it was because of the hit he had recently taken, but something about the movement stirred amusement in Cal, and he began to smile widely.


    ¡°D-don''t smile! It¡¯s not funny, Cal- I mean, sir.¡± Shining Hope Guardian pumped their arms in frustration and distress. ¡°I need to get Aina- but wait, oh, I¡¯m still wearing-¡±


    They made a movement like they were about to take off their helmet but stopped dead upon realizing something, leaving their hands awkwardly placed on the side of the helmet. They had been rendered paralyzed with indecision. Observing this, Cal¡¯s brief smile faded and he leaned his head against the grass, trying to not pay attention to the painful throbbing that had begun on his temple.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Ram,¡± he said, closing his eyes for a moment. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be careful. I already know it¡¯s you.¡±


    Cal couldn¡¯t see behind the opaque visor of the helmet, but he could imagine all too clearly the look of panicked incredulity on Ram¡¯s face.


    ¡°What?¡± Her voice said, still muffled cutely by the helmet. ¡°What are you talking about Cal- sir? I¡¯ve¡­ never heard that name in my life.¡±


    ¡°Ram, I can recognize your voice. Okay? So you¡¯re the vigilante of justice I keep hearing about on the news? I guess that makes as much sense as anything else.¡±


    The voice beneath the helmet deepened. ¡°My voice sounds like this.¡±


    ¡°No, it doesn''t, Ram. You can take off the helmet.¡±


    Shining Hope Guardian still didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°Ram,¡± Cal said, trying to sound comforting despite the pain building in his head. ¡°You know me, right? Remember what we talked about in the library. It¡¯s my greatest skill, I can¡¯t be surprised. This doesn¡¯t¡­¡± He winced. ¡°This doesn¡¯t change anything. Absolutely nothing is different. You¡¯re the same person, the same girl ¡ª my friend. And I¡¯m sure all the others will feel the same way.¡±


    There was another pause, until finally, Ram kneeled back down beside him and removed the bulky helmet to reveal her face. Her face was red: both from sweat and the tears that had begun to pool in her ears.


    Her voice cracked and her brown eyes widened in emotional pain. ¡°I- I hurt you.¡±


    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t. It was an accident. You were being a super cool hero and trying to protect people from danger, right?¡±


    She wiped her eyes, clearly distraught, clutching Cal¡¯s hand roughly. ¡°I hurt you. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±


    ¡°I-¡± She shook her head, stood, and clapped her cheeks. She had realized that she could no longer delay. ¡°I need to get Aina. Cal, wait here! Don¡¯t move! I mean, I already moved you, but don¡¯t move any more!¡±


    Cal couldn¡¯t imagine a single reason why getting Aina was necessary at this moment, but he listened to Ram¡¯s instruction as she dashed across the lawn, still wearing the majority of her superhero suit ¡ª or whatever the technical term was. She had left the helmet on the grass, the top-heavy visor leaning into the ground.


    Cal looked at it for a long moment, attempting to keep his breathing steady as his temple hurt.


    A robot superhero. Fighting supervillains in the city. Why not? Why the hell not? None of it mattered anyway.


    Besides him, his shadow stirred, then settled back into stillness.

 Chapter 29: Ram Is (Definitely) Not a Superhero (Part 2)

    [October 25, 2042]


    There was an annoying noise. Cal regretfully opened his eyes. Yes, there was no doubt, that was the sound of a princess.


    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t see why I need to be bothered with this sort of thing,¡± said the voice as it slowly drifted closer to where Cal lay in the grass. ¡°If the peasant is tripping over himself and getting injured, it¡¯s certainly not my responsibility to use my precious abilities to patch him up. What do you think magic is ¡ª a convenience that can solve any sort of juvenile issue? No, no! Magic is a noble art, the precious efforts of House Cormac. Even if it is for the favor of a precious subordinate such as yourself Ram, erm, that is to say, a precious friend like yourself, I cannot be so casual with how I wield these powers. And for that matter, Ram, I need to ask, what in the realms are you wearing? You may not be a royal like myself, but you are still undoubtedly a lady, and that entitles you to a certain aspect of dignity that you must be wary of and adhere to! Is this leather? Spandex, you say? I am not familiar with the term, though I will note it looks somewhat familiar somehow. Well, whatever it is, it¡¯s not appropriate¡­ it, erm, leaves nothing to the imagination in terms of shape. Ram, you must be mindful of such things with a body type such as yours. Look at this dress that I am wearing, for example. Elegant, ethereal, conforming to my body yet still leaving plenty to the mind of the beholder. This is the essence of upper-class fashion! Remember it well. Perhaps us two and Bridget can go shopping one day-¡±


    The voice mercifully paused for a moment, and a shadow passed over Cal. The smug face of Aina ud Cormac, fourth princess of Luvinia, looked down on him, her beautiful red hair shining in the sunlight. ¡°Are you just laying upon the filthy earth, peasant? Just as well. It suits you, this location, in the respect that it is also equivalent symbolically to our positions!¡±


    ¡°This must be a great relief to you, would-be princess.¡± muttered Cal, trying to suppress the pain in his temple. ¡°You can now look down on me as you speak down to me.¡±


    Aina proudly ran a finger through her hair, clearly glad at the compliment, backhanded though it was. ¡°Leave the witticisms to me, peasant, humor does not suit one with the societal position as you-¡± Her face suddenly paled as her green eyes widened, and she immediately kneeled down beside him, not bothering with how it could dirty her dress. She had seen the blood, which had begun to trickle again onto the grass. ¡°Cal! What is- are you alright? What happened?¡±


    Cal grinned half-heartedly, a little light-headed. ¡°I tripped and fell, dear monarch, as you conjectured.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t smile at a time like this fool, not when you are so self-serious at all other moments.¡± Aina¡¯s hands, in a way more practiced than Cal would¡¯ve imagined, ran over his cheek and the place where his dark hair was sticky from the congealed blood. ¡°It must have been quite a dramatic fall. You¡¯ve hit your head against something hard and blunt, Cal. Do you remember how it happened? Never mind that now, actually. You likely have some concussed aftereffects. The flesh is damaged but not sliced. And you!-¡±


    The princess whirled on Ram, who was still dressed in her Shining Hope Guardian outfit and standing awkwardly aside. ¡°You led me to believe this was a minor issue. If there is a serious problem, forget your timid nature and speak up!¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize!¡±


    ¡°...Sorry.¡±


    Grunting, Aina turned her attention back to Cal, turning his head ever so slightly between her hands as if to test for broken bones in the neck. ¡°Goodness, you¡¯re lucky that Bridget is currently out shopping for new knitting yarn, otherwise she would be pale-faced and demanding a million questions from you. I have been on the other end of that concern myself, it¡¯s quite exhausting.¡±


    Cal watched Aina¡¯s focused, attractive green eyes as she examined his wound again. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine her like that.¡±


    ¡°Her nature is more girlish than you seem to appreciate,¡± remarked the princess, ¡°now hold still for a moment.¡±


    Aina¡¯s hands glowed with a faint blue light. As her fingers pressed against the wounded side of his head, Cal felt a strange feeling of levity. The pain resided, the wound stitched up, the blood vanished into the grass.


    Cal felt that his dark eyes were very wide at this moment as he said softly: ¡°Is this magic?¡±


    A nearly imperceptible smile crossed over Aina¡¯s face. ¡°Of course, peasant. I am a powerful and beautiful princess from a world beyond your own. An ability like this is only natural for me to possess.¡±


    ¡°Your hands feel good.¡± He grinned. ¡°You¡¯re really nice when you¡¯re not yelling at me.¡±


    ¡°Honestly, Cal.¡± said Aina, in a voice gentler than he was used to hearing from her. ¡°What am I to think of you? I assume that is the concussion speaking.¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Later, Cal leaned against a thick computer wire, his nose upturned against the smell of sweat and burnt dust that filled Ram¡¯s room. The curtains were drawn despite it being night outside. The whole room was illuminated by the screens of the computers: blue, green, white ¡ª all blinking irregularly.


    There was an awkward silence.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m amazed you pulled off dinner tonight, despite everything that happened,¡± said Ram. She was sitting on her bed, knees tucked against her large chest.


    Cal readjusted his position slightly. ¡°Bridget did most of it, to be honest. Aina¡¯s magic worked like a charm, you could say, but I was still a little woozy and out of it. Internalizing, I suppose.¡±


    Ram didn¡¯t say anything. She patted down her large blond hair, as if trying to diminish its immense volume.


    Cal bit his lip and sighed. ¡°I know you texted me to come here because you probably wanted to explain one or two things, but I mean what I said earlier. And that day we talked at the university. You don¡¯t need to explain anything, if you don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    The interjection was sudden and surprising. Cal widened his eyes. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°How is that possible?¡± Ram said, talking into her knees. Her face was obscured by both the semi-darkness and the position of her head. ¡°Are you just not curious about me? Do you just not care?¡±


    Cal chewed his lip. ¡°That¡¯s not fair.¡± He shook his head and started again. ¡°Ram, I think it would be fair to say that we haven¡¯t really¡­ gotten a chance to be close. Since I moved in here. I mean, we text a lot, but you¡¯re distant, right? You skip meals. You skip movie nights. You avoid Ellie as much as you can, it seems. Would that be fair to say? And partially those reasons have to do with what I encountered today?¡±


    Ram nodded silently.


    ¡°All I can do is take account of what¡¯s in front of me,¡± said Cal. ¡°And I know you for what you are: shy, intelligent, and really, really kind. Everything else is confectionary. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t care. But whether you¡¯re a robot, or a superhero, or both at the same time, you¡¯re still the same to me. Okay?¡±


    Ram nodded again. Her eyes seemed blurry.


    Cal rubbed his head against the dark wall, trying to sort out his thoughts. ¡°So, despite what I just said, I do have to make sure of a few things.¡±


    His dark eyes pierced into Ram, and she was forced to meet their stare, blushing intensely. ¡°Are you safe?¡±


    Another nod. ¡°Y-yeah, I think. Mostly. My body is super, super tough. I can¡¯t really be harmed. I¡¯m very fast, too. That¡¯s how I carried you back to the house in just a few minutes.¡±


    ¡°Who was that guy from earlier?¡±


    ¡°Beetle Boss.¡± Ram bit a nail. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, to be honest, who he is or where precisely he is from. He sort of showed up a few weeks ago, claiming that he was ¡°my ultimate rival¡± and the ¡°emissary of evil¡±. But I don¡¯t think he wants to hurt anyone. When he saw that you were injured, he made sure to stop attacking. But even when he ¡°attacks¡±, he doesn¡¯t really seem all that serious.¡±


    ¡®Weird,¡± muttered Cal.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, weird.¡±


    ¡°This hero thing¡­ saving people and the like¡­¡± Cal phrased this awkwardly, as he was unsure how to ask the question. ¡°Do you¡­ enjoy it?¡±


    No answer.


    ¡°Ram,¡± Cal¡¯s eyes narrowed like the points of daggers. They were dangerously intense. ¡°You¡¯re not being forced to do this somehow, are you?


    ¡°No!¡± examined Ram, finally. She sat forward on the bed, leaning towards him, her eyes glowing with alighted passion, before she remembered herself. ¡°...No. It¡¯s just a responsibility I have. That I was given. I¡¯m¡­¡±


    She blushed redder. ¡°I¡¯m really strong. I¡¯m not a strong thing, but I am strong ¡ª I can catch flying vehicles and jump very high and not be hurt by fists or bullets. I can help people, is what I mean. So I should, even if it makes me scared. That¡¯s all there is to it.¡±


    The bed creaked. Ram looked up, surprised. Cal had sat down on the edge of the mattress. She suddenly felt vulnerable. The boy¡¯s proximity and gaze stirred within her chest feelings of pure embarrassment. She always felt embarrassed when she was near Cal, but it wasn¡¯t until this very moment that she found the words to express the reason to herself.


    He sort of reminds me of father, she thought, patting her red cheeks. Really smart and calm and nice¡­ but sometimes, there¡¯s this look in his eyes that unsettles me.


    Meanwhile, Cal had listened silently to her exclamation, his head propped thoughtfully against his palm. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Ram breathed slightly, as if afraid to make too much noise. ¡°Okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, okay. I¡¯ll take you at your word,¡± said Cal. He frowned and gently massaged the temple where he had been injured earlier. ¡°Um, if it¡¯s possible, I¡¯d like to start over here. Between us. And I¡¯d like us to be closer and more honest. If you¡¯re having a rough time, or you feel overwhelmed, or you just need someone to talk with¡­ that¡¯s something I can help with. I¡¯m not good for much, but I can listen.¡±


    Ram¡¯s wide eyes seemed to glow in the pale chromatic light cast from the computer screens. Then she smiled slightly and outstretched a hand. ¡°Deal. But only if you let me listen to your problems, too¡­ I told you. I¡¯m not as weak as I seem.¡±


    Cal looked surprised for a moment and then shook her soft hand. ¡°I¡¯m beginning to believe that more and more. It''s a deal. Nice to meet you, as we are.¡± Then he coughed and self-consciously rubbed his eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m Pascal Clermont. I came to this city from a place much smaller and darker. You can call me Cal.¡±


    Ram¡¯s smile broke out into a wide, toothy grin, her brown eyes shining within the surreal light. ¡°I¡¯m DIGITAL RAMIFICATION.ver242.007.¡± She clasped both her hands over Cal¡¯s palm and shook it up and down enthusiastically. ¡°I¡¯m an autonomous machine built by my father, the genius Dr. Nendi. You can call me Ram.¡±


    ¡°Pleased to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Likewise.¡± She giggled and then hid her face in her hands ¡ª as if the appearance of her joy was something to be ashamed of. ¡°Oh, likewise!¡±


    Her heart was pounding, but somehow, it felt so much lighter than it had in months.

 Interlude 3: Hello, World

    [December 31, 2040]


    The machine whirred. Two million exabytes woke from their digital dreams to confront the dreams of reality. Wires compressed into data, data into thoughts, thoughts into burning electricity that scalded the anima.


    This was the first thought: It hurts.


    Ram opened her eyes.


    The first and only thing she saw was her father. She knew it was her father: this short, slightly odd-looking man, looking at her with wide brown eyes between a thick pair of spectacles. He had greasy hair and a weak jaw and moles sprouting from under his eyelids. He had a wide yellow smile and she loved him. This man was her father and Ram loved him and she would love nobody else as much as him and this was the only thing that she knew to be true.


    Her father¡¯s smile widened, and he leaned closer to her face. ¡°Oh my,¡± he said, with an almost reverent tone, ¡°you¡¯re absolutely perfect.¡±


    Ram was not yet a person. She was not yet even a thing. She was a technology, a conceptual framework upon which lines were engraved: codes from a computer and from her father¡¯s voice. He spoke to her, it was practically all he did: of music, history, literature, horticulture, architecture, science, psychology and the emotions that we all feel; yes, even you my daughter, even you who are yet still a floating and fragile orb of consciousness. Even you, one day, will feel what it is like to love something.


    When she heard these words, Ram frowned. ¡°I love you, father.¡±


    Her father stared at her for a long moment and then shook his head. ¡°Yes, but not in that way.¡±


    The lessons continued. Computer science, nutrition, chemistry, and physics. Anthropology, entomology, medicine, and foreign languages. Her father seemed to know absolutely everything. In the white, featureless room that was Ram¡¯s home, he sat in a simple plastic chair, a foot resting on his knee. He would talk for hours and hours, his low, somewhat nasally voice echoing through the blank interior. Ram never got bored of listening to him. Everything he said was perfect and the truth, and he could explain such complex topics so easily. He would explain, explain again, never getting exasperated or impatient when Ram failed to comprehend something the first time or the third time. In fact, when Ram failed to immediately grasp a concept, his little body seemed to inflate, and he would lean forward in the plastic chair with a wily expression in his brown eyes. Eyes the color of her own.


    ¡°Well, well, well.¡± He would say every time. ¡°You see, my daughter, that even flawless code does not guarantee perfection. But that¡¯s a good thing. That¡¯s right.¡±


    Eventually, her father began to let her into the garden, for short periods in the winter sun. Ram would walk between the dandelions, crouch in the stiff grass that smelled of cold dew, and watch tiny insects scuttle in the dark dirt ¡ª mostly beetles that her father was raising. She would stay and watch, for minutes at a time, and not do anything else.


    One day, Ram began to wonder why she repeated this ritual. She had begun to wonder about more things recently. It was something she felt cognizant of, opinions and characteristics forming within herself; acquiring flavor and distinction. They flowed within her, what felt like under the skin, but they could not be, Ram understood that much, for under her skin was the metal exoskeleton, and under that the mess of wires and sparks and wafer-chips. And underneath that¡­ nothing at all. Void and molecules and the infinite space between them.


    Where am I located? wondered Ram, turning her hand over in the white light of the sun. Where do ¡®I¡¯ begin and where does the world begin?


    Ram then made the decision to construct an inventory. She was, after all, a computer at the end of the day, and thus ought to be pretty good at that sort of thing. An inventory of thoughts, of the thoughts that made herself.


    Thought 1: I¡¯m alive but don¡¯t feel alive. Father says I¡¯m alive. But maybe he doesn¡¯t mean that in the same way I mean that. Maybe he just means I¡¯m moving.


    Thought 2: There¡¯s something sort of beautiful about the sun in the winter: bright and cold and like a silver disk that hangs over an x-axis of drifting clouds. There are people known as painters that exist in this world. I wonder if they could recreate such an image.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Thought 3: When I look in the mirror that father sometimes brings out, I do not like what I see. I am short and misshapen, with a large nose and large hair that gets in the way all the time. I perspire, why do I perspire, why would father give me such a function? To emulate reality? I do not want to emulate reality. I want to see myself reflected without feeling apprehension or shame, even if that reflection is a falsehood.


    Thought 4: Comic books are really cool, those thin books that father bought from the bookstore. Inside are vivid images that clash amongst boxes of white: heroes and villains and the drama that exists between them. The way people look in comics should be the way they look in real life. Proud and awesome and shaded carefully by lines of darkness. I wish I lived in a comic-book world. There are other robots there and people who are even weirder than a robot. That kind of place would be comforting.


    Thought 5: I¡¯m anxious. That¡¯s the word, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m anxious all the time. Father tells me more and more, and I become less and less sure of myself. That¡¯s a contradiction. A computer ought to learn, it ought to repair and fix and automate itself. It should get better and better at tasks at an exponential rate. But I¡¯m not like that. I¡¯m weaker and stupider now than when I began. If I told father, would he hate me? Would he think I¡¯m a failure and want to discard me? Oh, I hate this. I hate this brain. Father needs to replace it with a newer one, a better one, that does not yearn and crave and hate. I want to hide. I want to hide from all of this, in a cube quiet and dark, where the only light that illuminates my face is the blue chroma of a screen. I wish to vanish and never be seen again. Oh father, I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯ve created a broken machine. If you knew, would you still call me perfect?


    Ram felt she couldn¡¯t breathe, but that was impossible. And it shouldn¡¯t matter anyway, because oxygen wasn¡¯t something needed to power her systems. Yet she couldn¡¯t breathe. Her neck tightened as if fixed in a noose, and she could feel her mechanical heart pumping in her chest and she fell over into the cool grass and thrashed there like volatile jelly until her father came out into the garden to calm her down. She might have been crying, but it was hard to know for sure.


    ¡°You¡¯re alright,¡± her father said, hugging Ram against his large gut, kissing the tresses of her blond curls. ¡°You¡¯re okay. It¡¯s just a little malfunction.¡±


    He did this until she stopped moving. Then Ram closed her eyes, finding comfort in his arms.


    Yes, father, she thought. This is how it is. This is what happens when you craft a soul from any sort of material. A malfunctioning object. Listen to me now. I don¡¯t know where I am. I am the song of electricity. I am the spirit haunting the taut copper filaments and the convex metal. Machina ex machina. I am I am I am-


    The last day before he let her into the world, Ram¡¯s father took her aside for a talk.


    ¡°Before you go out there, in the wide world, there is something crucial I must tell you,¡± he said, in a voice more serious than she had ever heard before.


    Ram nodded, bobbing her head, making her hair dance. She didn¡¯t trust herself to reply out loud. The anxiety and fear swirling in her chest had reached an apex, and Ram didn¡¯t know if she had been created with the capacity to throw up.


    ¡°Sit,¡± said her father, gesturing at the second plastic chair he had set up in the room.


    She sat, placing her hands on her knees.


    ¡°You have always been my most perfect creation,¡± began her father. ¡°Your body is crafted to be practically indestructible ¡ª it cannot be burned, trampled, eroded, torn. Your capacities for combat are likely unparalleled by any military currently inhabiting this earth ¡ª if you were ever able to run at full capacity. You learn without limit and are designed to continually improve your thirst for knowledge, enabled by your perfect memory and mathematical ability.¡± He paused. ¡°You are my daughter, and I am so proud of you.¡±


    Typically, after such an aggrandizing speech from her father, Ram would have blushed and brushed a lock of hair over her ear as she tried not to show how happy the words made her. But now it hit her like a cold wind. The anxiety, the endless anxiety in her belly, swelled. She didn¡¯t want to hear any more. She lowered her head towards her chest, but then was suddenly snapped back to attention when firm hands grasped her shoulders.


    Ram started, her brown eyes wide and fearful. Her father had never held her with such aggression, and she looked into his spectacles, and behind them were orbs pulsing and frenzied.


    ¡°Now listen to me carefully, Ram.¡± Her father said. His fingernails pinched into her skin. ¡°You were not created without a purpose. There was an event that prompted me to create you ¡ª to create a champion of our world that could face any danger and overcome any obstacle. Listen, listen. Don¡¯t be scared. I have received a message, Ram. A message from beyond the stars. No, look at me. Look at me. A message that transcends the firmament. I was given a vision of the end. Fire and shadow and the screaming cries of damned souls. Invaders from another world will come and they will destroy everything. No life will be left spared. No atom left untrampled. The extinction of everything on this planet. Understand? Do you understand? We needed something to help us.¡±


    ¡°Father, your nails are painful.¡±


    He leaned closer. The light reflected off the spectacles. ¡°There are over nine billion people living on this planet. Over nine billion lives that must be saved. And from now on, it¡¯s all up to you.¡±


    Ram took a shaky breath. Her stomach hurt.

 Chapter 30: Cal Walks Home Alone At Night

    [October 31, 2042]


    Four minutes ago, Halloween crept into the universe. The night was long, the air was cool and had a scent of mystery, and the moon was big and white in the sky ¡ª like a porthole to a brighter and gentler world. It was quiet in Extremis City, as it always was after midnight, it was a city that slept and waited and then burst into action. Simply put, not enough people lived there to truly maintain an autonomous cycle of events. Therefore, it was nights like this, when the clean streets held their breath and the wind whistled, that something extraordinary was allowed to happen.


    Cal walked through this quiet expanse, the sounds of his footsteps reverberating eerily. At some point, between cooking every day and watching movies with Mel and getting up early to chat with Bridget and making sure to buy fresh hay to lay upon for the two giant golden sheep that refused to move, Cal found that he had unsuspectingly begun to fall behind in his studies. Aghast at this realization, he had taken a day for himself to study at the university library: no distractions, no texts, no ghost girls following him around to poke him roughly in the back of the head. Now, he returned to Otter Manor under the cover of night, his dark coat pushed against his neck, his dark eyes shimmering in the semi-light. His mind strayed. He remembered a dark room, void of luminance, smelling of urine and dust.


    The light changed, accented with green and purple. Cal had passed in front of a convenience store with a flickering sign: the last building before the gate that led to the hill upon which sat his home. Here, it was the only building, brightly lit in the night. Through the windows the entire menagerie could be seen: soda cans and lined bottles of alcohol and e-cigarettes and ramen packets and bags of chips and little sugary treats and sticks of gum-flavored things like ¡°Big Berry Blast¡± or ¡°Powerful Pink¡±. Before the convenience store was a carved semi-circle of asphalt, the rough contours of which gave the chroma glaring against it a strange, surreal aspect.


    The lights flickered. The sign perched on top of the convenience store read ¡°T-Mart¡± and was clearly broken. The ¡°T¡± was green and the ¡°Mart¡± was purple, crafted with twisting filaments of neon. These colors rested against Cal¡¯s cheek and seeped into the fabric of his dark coat. To an outside observer, he was a strange figure in the night, dark but glowing with faint luminance, a figure alone in the city.


    The lights flickered again. Cal was not alone.


    It happened in a second, in less than a second; the instant where the neon lights spasmed, died, and were rebirthed. The figure leaned against the concrete wall of the convenience store, not in the light but standing just beyond the border it carved. A figure that could be seen, but was not illuminated.


    It was a young woman.


    ¡°Hey,¡± she said in a deep, somewhat hoarse voice. Her eyes glowed.


    Cal stopped. He turned his head slowly to look at the woman, trying to study her face. They were perhaps a dozen feet apart, bisected by the rim of light. A moment passed.


    He studied her: young, beautiful, skin paler than the moon, long pure white hair despite her youth (it must be dyed), a face with an aspect of hunger and curiosity. Dangerous.


    She studied him: young, dark-haired, tall but not very tall, a cute face, sure, but one with an unmistakable coldness to it. Fascinating.


    A moment passed. ¡°Hey,¡± said Cal. He didn¡¯t know what else to say.


    The woman tilted her head, her hip-length hair brushing against the wall of the convenience store. Behind her was a corridor of pure darkness: between the side of the convenience store and a kind of auxiliary container of dark-green aluminum. No light rested there, and not a thing could be seen.


    ¡°Come over here,¡± the woman said invitingly, extending her hand in a bizarre way, as if presenting something. In the hand was a cylindrical soda, slightly indented from the force of her fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s share a drink.¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t move. ¡°I don¡¯t drink soda.¡±


    The woman laughed, her white teeth glistening. ¡°Somehow, that doesn¡¯t surprise me. I¡¯m Roxy, by the way.¡± She stepped forward a little. Her clothes could now be seen. A tight, low-cut black shirt that revealed the outline of the woman¡¯s modest breasts, black skirt, fishnet stockings with holes in them, bulky black boots. She wasn¡¯t wearing anything to protect from the cool October evening, but she wasn¡¯t shivering in the slightest. ¡°Come over here anyway, I want to talk.¡±


    Cal shrugged. ¡°We can talk where we¡¯re currently standing.¡±


    He wondered if he should run, but somehow that seemed to be an extremely stupid idea.


    An expression of slight annoyance passed over the woman¡¯s face, but it was gone immediately. She jutted with her chin. ¡°You live on the hill just up there, right?¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t say anything and the woman laughed again.


    ¡°Don''t be shy!¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m not stalking you or anything. I live near here, and I see you come back and forth through the gate. That¡¯s all. It¡¯s an old student accommodation, right? I¡¯ve seen the others, too. That really pretty girl, and the one with the big hair.¡±


    Cal nodded. ¡°Yeah, I live up there. And you?¡±


    The woman grimaced and took another sip of soda. She then crumbled it in one hand and tossed it away. It hit the neon-tinted asphalt and made a loud noise. ¡°Oh, you know. Here and there.¡±


    Cal¡¯s eyes followed the arc of the soda can. Lying on the ground, all crumpled, it looked like the mangled corpse of some animal.


    ¡°But you know-¡± The woman continued, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you out so late at night. You¡¯re at the university, right? Back from some all-day study session? I admire your dedication-¡±


    ¡°You should pick it up,¡± Cal interrupted.


    Roxy blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The soda,¡± Cal said, not an indication of levity in his voice. ¡°You should pick it up. It¡¯s bad to litter.¡±


    She laughed again. ¡°My, what a stick in the mud you are.¡± She leaned forward, sticking out her chest, and grinned. Her voice changed, taking on a higher, girly register. ¡°How about you come over here? I promise to do what you want then.¡±


    Cal still didn¡¯t move an inch. His mind was racing. ¡°Why do you want me to come over to you?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me say it aloud.¡± Her finger, the nail painted red, traced the thin line of her cleavage, tugging slightly on the thin black material of her shirt. Her eyes glowed red ¡ª behind her the corridor of shadow seemed to swell like an incoming wave. ¡°Let¡¯s have some fun.¡±


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    Cal held his breath. The lights flickered, and the image of the street and store abstracted for a moment, taking on the dimensions of some sort of anxiety-inducing dream. And then he grinned, widely, in a strange way that made Roxy pause her seductive movements and frown.


    ¡°Sorry, not interested,¡± Cal said flatly.


    Roxy didn¡¯t move a moment, and then leaned back her pale neck and laughed a third time. ¡°Oh, what the hell? This is different. What are you, some sort of ascetic? No soda, no littering, no fun, is that it?¡± She snorted through her nostrils, shook her head and took a step forward into the light proper¡ª all seductive gestures forgotten. ¡°Geez, what a dork. But I knew that. I could tell even from afar. A true, proper dork who takes things way too seriously.¡±


    She extended her hand. ¡°I¡¯m Roxy,¡± she said again. ¡°Nice to meet you, Cal.¡±


    Cal looked at her hand for a moment, and then stepped forward to shake her hand uneasily. He still felt extremely apprehensive, but something told him that any possible danger had passed for now. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±


    ¡°So!¡± Roxy said with alacrity, shaking Cal¡¯s hand up and down roughly, her strong fingers squeezing his palm and wrist. ¡°What¡¯s up? What was my misstep?¡±


    Cal released her hand and tenderly stroked his aching wrist. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on.¡± Roxy skipped backward and thrust out her chest again. ¡°I¡¯m looking hella cute, don¡¯t pretend like you didn¡¯t notice. So what is it? You got a girlfriend already? Are you exclusively into guys? What¡¯s up?¡±


    Cal watched her carefully. ¡°Nothing like that. I¡¯m just not in the habit of following strangers into a dark alley.¡±


    ¡°Even cute ones?¡±


    ¡°Even cute ones.¡±


    Roxy blew air through her lips exaggeratedly and straightened the line of her back. Somehow her eyes seem to have returned to normal luminance, though they still maintained a red glint that refracted off her narrow eyes. ¡°Well, at least I got you to admit that much.¡±


    Cal watched her playful mannerisms, plunging his hands into the depths of his dark coat as the wind blew and scattered leaves and litter throughout the pavement. ¡°So¡­¡± He stared at the black horizon for a moment, then let his dark eyes rest upon Roxy¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten used to this sort of thing, recently. I take it¡­ you¡¯re not a normal person?¡±


    Roxy¡¯s red eyes narrowed playfully. ¡°I¡¯m normal as you are. As normal as anything with a soul. I¡¯m sad, and happy, and contradictory.¡±


    ¡°You know what I mean,¡± Cal said. His forehead turned purple with neon light. ¡°What are you?¡±


    She fiddled absentmindedly with the holes in her stockings, then raised her eyes again. ¡°Let¡¯s call me a complex and unsated animal.¡±


    ¡°Do you intend to harm me?¡±


    ¡°What do you think?¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t say anything in response, to which Roxy broke the silence with a completely unexpected injection. ¡°Want some chips?¡±


    Cal blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Roxy smiled loosely, crossing the asphalt towards the convenience store as she called over her shoulder. Her long white hair swung with the movements. ¡°That¡¯s the first time you¡¯ve looked legitimately surprised. Chips. I¡¯m going in to buy some stuff. You want some chips?¡±


    She grinned when she saw his suspicious gaze. Her teeth were strangely sharp. ¡°Chill, I¡¯m not going to like, poison them.¡±


    Cal¡¯s first instinct was to reject her offer, but then his stomach moved in protest. While he had cooked dinner for Bridget to heat up for everyone later, he hadn¡¯t consumed anything today besides a smoothie in the morning. ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Cool.¡±


    Roxy waved a pale hand in farewell and entered the convenience store, picking up her discarded soda can and tossing it into a small recycling bin as she did. Cal watched her through the translucent front-facing glass. The strangeness of her demeanor, that which had first given him pause and caution, appeared to have completely disappeared. Besides the white hair, Roxy looked completely normal as she dug out some consumables from the shelves and glowing walk-in coolers, greeted the tired-looking cashier with a smile, and paid with her phone.


    ¡°Catch, dork,¡± she said as she exited the store, tossing a plastic chip bag across the clearing of asphalt.


    He caught it.


    ¡°Damn, you actually caught it, nice.¡±


    They sat together on a concrete wheel-stop. Roxy stretched out her long legs, making no effort to hide her pale inner thighs visible with the fishnets. Then she popped open the soda can she had bought, and took a sip. ¡°Ah, I¡¯ve reached nirvana. Perfect. Just what I would expect from-¡± She examined the label. ¡°Cherry Meteor.¡±


    Cal watched her, holding the unopened chip bag between his hands as the wind stirred his dark hair. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t drink so much soda at night.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the input, mom.¡±


    He sighed, suddenly annoyed at her. ¡°Are you going to tell me what you are and why you¡¯re here or not? Otherwise, I¡¯d rather just get home so I can sleep.¡±


    ¡°You know, you ought to show a little more deference towards the supernatural and extraordinary,¡± said Roxy, wiping a string of saliva colored by the soda from her red lips. ¡°You can¡¯t just be so casual and dismissive all the time. It¡¯s serious shit.¡±


    ¡°Is this a warning?¡±


    ¡°Frankly, yes.¡± Roxy rested a finger against Cal¡¯s chin. ¡°You¡¯re much too easy-going, cutie. This stuff clings to you. It accumulates, draws more of itself in ¡ª a self-fulfilling prophecy, dontcha know.¡± For the briefest instant, Roxy¡¯s sharp and scarlet eyes flashed towards Cal¡¯s transparent shadow laying across the chromatic asphalt, and then returned to his face, to which she had leaned her own towards. ¡°You¡¯re a skandha, a heap of weird things all tied together, clinging to you, making you visible to all the other weird things. And when that happens, it isn¡¯t long before things like me start noticing.¡±


    He leaned his body back away from her casual touch, his eyes flashing. ¡°What are you?¡±


    Roxy studied him curiously for a moment and then looked at her fingers. ¡°Eh, I don¡¯t really feel like explaining right now. It would take too long, and I don¡¯t want to hang out around here in case we get noticed. I just want you to understand that walking around after dark probably isn¡¯t the best idea for someone like you.¡±


    Cal crumpled the bag of chips between his hands, but still didn¡¯t open them. ¡°If you¡¯re trying to frighten me, it¡¯s not going to work.¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course not.¡± For the first time, a tone of exasperation entered Roxy¡¯s deep voice. ¡°Because you¡¯re not scared of anything, are you? ¡ª with your awesome coat and cool personality. Yeah, you¡¯re an obsidian column, the unmovable mountain that stands tall among the eastern peaks, fuck off. ¡±


    She chugged the Cherry Meteor. ¡°Go on as you¡¯ve been if you want, it¡¯s no skin off my tits. But if you want to stay alive-¡± Here she rested her finger on his chin again. ¡°I encourage you to heed my advice. Don¡¯t go anywhere after midnight, cutie, especially not alone. Be wary of any beautiful and mysterious girls like yours truly who try to insert themselves into your life. Remember, you¡¯re preternaturally volatile. Once one domino falls, the rest go over more easily.¡±


    She traced the line of his jaw, her red nail gently scraping the stubble on Cal¡¯s chin ¡ª she smelled like the soda, like sugar. ¡°And from what I can tell, the first domino fell for you a long time ago. Honestly, cutie, how are you even still alive? Something should have swallowed and spit you out a long time ago.¡±


    Cal¡¯s eyes darkened, like the light as curtains fall. ¡°Something did.¡±


    Roxy smirked. ¡°Want to talk about it?¡±


    ¡°Not particularly.¡±


    ¡°Want to make out?¡±


    ¡°Not particularly.¡±


    ¡°Pfft. Well, I tried.¡± Roxy laid her hands on his chest for a moment, and then pushed him away from her. ¡°Get out of here, Cal. Make sure we never see each other again.¡±


    She stood up, stretching her long legs. Her lithe form was illuminated from behind by the light of the convenience store.


    ¡°Why help me?¡± Cal asked, sincere curiosity in his voice as he crouched on the wheel-stop, looking up at her.


    Roxy stayed quiet for a long moment, her white hair swaying in the subtle breeze. She seemed to be really considering the question, the brow of her pale face curling and her hands gripping the breast of her black shirt.


    ¡°The same reason that I do horrible things.¡± She replied at last, scarlet dripping from the lights in her eyes. ¡°Boredom.¡±


    The neon flickered, and she was gone.


    Cal was alone in the lot of asphalt.


    He held the bag of chips between his hands for a long moment, peeled open the film of plastic, and took a bite from a chip. Salt and vinegar. Sweetness and sourness.

 Chapter 31: Mel Can’t Stop People-watching

    [November 20, 2042]


    ¡°Old-granny type walking by. She¡¯s sort of short, squat, I suppose you could say, but her style is kinda cool. She¡¯s wearing this big pink sweater and large black sunglasses. She¡¯s walking three Pomeranians. Maybe she¡¯s a retired movie star, living out her retirement in comfort. Yeah, that seems right. A big star in the 80s, or well, I guess it would be the 2010s now, enjoying her golden years with style and relaxation.¡±


    ¡°Look there! There¡¯s a cute cat on the gate - a sphynx cat! Look at you! Psst, psst. You¡¯re kinda ugly but kinda cute. Haha, look at your wrinkly bald head! Psst, psst! Can you hear me? Can you see me? There¡¯s an old, old idea that cats like you can see ghosts. Is that true? Come over here and prove it. Flop right in my lap. ¡­Ah, he¡¯s gone. Next time for sure.¡±


    ¡°Middle-aged guy. Has kind of soft eyes and an easy smile on his face. He was talking on the phone as he passed by. A big guy, not ¡®fat¡¯ exactly, but large, beefy, sort of¡­ Ugh, yeah. He¡­ Oh, papa, he looked a little bit like you.¡±


    Mel lowered the recorder in her head and tucked her knees into her chest. She was back to her favorite hobby: people-watching. It was a nice day with a gentle breeze, so Mel had set up a blanket on the vast lawn of Otter Manor, right at a slightly raised mound of earth so she could see the street easily and the individuals walking down it. It had become a habit for her now, these last few days, in the hours before Cal arrived back home from university.


    For long periods of the days at Otter Manor, Mel was completely by herself, and so had to amuse herself with this simple past-time. Before now, she could rely on Aina or Bridget being in the house (as Aina was neither employed or a student, she would often spend long periods of the day watching TV, or when she thought nobody else was around, recite long monologues from the novel she had been reading since September), but not so these days. The fourth princess of Luvinia had as of late, whether from boredom or curiosity, begun to explore further and further outside the boundary of Otter Manor into the city, and Bridget, diligent as always, would accompany her lady without fail.


    Mel thought that was a shame. She actually liked Aina quite a bit, even though she was intimidated by her beauty. The ghost loved to ask the princess questions about her world whenever she found the courage, which seemed as complex and wondrous as any creation in a fantasy novel. She also liked Bridget, the princess¡¯ attendant, though for whatever reason, she felt slightly apprehensive in her presence. In other words, Mel couldn¡¯t help but feel a certain competitive nature with Bridget, though what they were competing over she couldn¡¯t say.


    No matter. She would watch the people ¡ª the living who represented a vivid and storied world now inaccessible to her.


    She definitely wasn¡¯t lonely.


    ¡°A little boy all alone. Maybe seven or eight? Wearing blue overalls and a yellow shirt, like he wandered into the city from a farm or something. I don¡¯t think he was lost. He seemed to know where he was going. I hope so, because if he was lost, I wouldn¡¯t be able to help him. He wasn¡¯t on the property, so if I followed, I would become invisible. Thinking about it like that, the boundary of my father''s property is also the boundary of my life. I might as well not exist beyond this lawn-¡±


    ¡°Boo!¡± someone whispered aggressively in Mel¡¯s ear.


    Mel jumped up into the air, and remained there, spinning like a levitating top. ¡°What?¡± She exclaimed. ¡°Ellie?¡±


    Standing on the hill was Ellie, dressed in a long white skirt that reached beyond her knees and an olive top. She was smiling, clearly greatly amused by her prank. ¡°What¡¯s up, man? Up to some ghost shenanigans?¡±


    Mel blushed deeply, floated back down to the earth, and gathered the hem of her sundress around her ankles. ¡°Simply enjoying the day. Couldn''t you announce your presence with more tact?¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± Ellie flopped down beside Mel on the grass, grinning with self-satisfaction. ¡°That wouldn''t be as fun.¡±


    Mel bit her lip, and jutted her jaw away from Ellie¡¯s direction. It wasn¡¯t that she disliked the other girl, but she had to admit to herself that she wasn¡¯t sure what she thought of Ellie. She recognized in Ellie characteristics of herself, playfulness and an eye for drama, but while Mel would only reveal those characteristics to a person she trusted and felt safe with (otherwise, the ghost could be a quite reserved and shy girl), Ellie didn¡¯t seem to have any such consideration. Ellie was the kind of person who talked and joked around easily with everybody, even those she didn¡¯t know well. It made Mel strangely uncomfortable. She didn¡¯t trust anybody who smiled so easily; she preferred people more deliberate with their emotions.


    And she walks around wearing nothing but a towel, even when Cal is home! Mel blushed again, thinking about it. What¡¯s up with that?


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Broken out of her thoughts, Mel looked at the device in her hand that Ellie was gesturing at. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a recorder. Cal got it for me. You can click it just once and it starts or stops. I don¡¯t really know how to use the modern phones, and it¡¯s easier for me just to touch something occasionally than all the time. Like, I could maybe write on some paper with a pencil, but it would be difficult.¡±


    Ellie nodded in understanding. ¡°I get it. What are you doing with it?¡±


    ¡°Just my hobby.¡± Mel said, becoming more comfortable in the situation. ¡°I like to watch people from here on the hill. Then I record my thoughts on this-¡± (She held up the recorder) ¡°-and listen to it later. What they looked like, what my thoughts at the time were, that sort of stuff.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± Ellie said. ¡°Yeah, I think I¡¯ve seen you sitting out here before, but I never knew what you were doing exactly. Are you the sort of person who gets really curious about people?¡±


    Mel considered the question. ¡°I guess. I don¡¯t get to meet many people¡­¡± She wavered for a moment. ¡°...Now I won¡¯t really ever again. So yes, I am. I¡¯m curious about the kinds of lives people lead. This way I can interact with that without disturbing them, without inconveniencing them. They go about their day and leave a piece of themselves with me.¡±


    Ellie nodded again. ¡°Okay.¡± She paused, playing with a dreadlock. Her dark skin was stark against the green grass. ¡°I can¡¯t relate honestly. I¡¯m not really that curious about other people, I guess.¡±


    Mel blinked, her blue eyes filled with confusion. ¡°Really? You seem so¡­ personable.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty damn charming, right?¡± Ellie flashed a grin, though it was quickly replaced with a contemplative expression. ¡°Don''t get me wrong, I like people. I¡¯m not some secret misanthrope. I like people, and I¡¯m good with them, I think. I can read their emotions and I know how to behave myself so I don¡¯t accidentally hurt someone¡¯s feelings.¡±


    Ellie picked at the ground as she sat. She was crafting a ring of grass around her finger. ¡°But people aren¡¯t my interest. They aren¡¯t what I spend time thinking about. They don¡¯t¡­ capture my imagination.¡±


    Mel tilted her head. ¡°What¡­ does capture your imagination?¡±


    Another grin, the widest so far. Ellie stood up to the full height of her long, athletic body, and pointed ahead of her, at a slight upward incline.


    She was pointing at the sky.


    The impossibly blue, impossibly wide, impossible infinite sky.


    ¡°That.¡± Ellie¡¯s eyes had an expression in them Mel had never seen. Like the spark that appears for less than a second when you strike two stones together. ¡°That, dude. And everything beyond it.¡±


    Ellie nodded in satisfaction to herself, seemingly deciding she had said enough. ¡°See ya, Mel. I¡¯ve got a few things I need to get back to.¡± She looked at the ghost like a proud older sister. ¡°Keep your head up, okay Mel? You¡¯ve got this.¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°I got this?¡± Mel repeated in confusion. ¡°What do I have?¡±


    ¡°Ah, but I must go!¡± said Ellie in a pantomime sort of way, strolling with energy back down the hill. She turned her head to call back out to Mel. ¡°But you¡¯ve got this! So don¡¯t get discouraged, okay?¡±


    Mel watched Ellie skip down the hill, go through the gate, and vanish out of sight.


    ¡°What a weird girl,¡± she said to herself, adjusting her black hair. ¡°I don¡¯t get her at all.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a nice-looking family. Let¡¯s see¡­ the husband and wife are walking together, hand in hand. They¡¯ve got¡­ goodness, they have about five children. They must have been very enthusiastic. I think I would clock out at around two children. If I could have kids. Not that I can, of course, or ever could-¡±


    ¡°-Is this really so interesting?¡± said Aina¡¯s disinterested voice. She was squatting on the hill, cheeks cupped in her hands, her beautiful red hair falling amongst the green grass. ¡°I fail to see the intrigue in watching a bunch of commoners go about their mundane, uneventful day.¡±


    ¡°Be nice, my lady.¡± scolded Bridget gently, though not without humor. She was holding many bags with logos on them. ¡°Personally, I think there is great benefit in watching the everyday actions of others. They can reveal much about how we live our lives, what we prioritize, how we spend time without even being cognizant of it. It is a good thing to slow down and think.¡±


    The princess and the attendant had returned from a trip to the aquarium, and met Mel on the hill as they went back towards the house. Curious about Mel¡¯s actions, Aina had commanded the pair to stop and copy Mel¡¯s vigil: to people-watch in order to ¡°discover the purpose of the activities that commoners partake in.¡±


    Bridget has remained standing, poised and dignified as ever in her formal uniform. Aina had squatted beside Mel, taking no heed of how she was getting the hem of her skirt slightly stained in the grass. She continually complained about how mundane she found the activity, but she also hadn¡¯t moved ¡ª her green eyes scanning the street as if to look for something. Between her hands, the princess held a plush sea-lion that Bridget had bought her at the aquarium. Apparently, it was the closest aquatic animal to a sheep.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s an activity that anyone can enjoy,¡± Mel responded shortly.


    She was in a bad mood, though she couldn¡¯t quite understand why, and was trying not to let it show in her voice or face.


    ¡°How silly,¡± Aina brushed back her hair with a dramatic flourish. The sun made it seem like it could be set alight. ¡°Only commoners could waste time with this sort of activity. Now, nobles also waste time, but we do it with class. With style. We do not engage in activities to waste time, the point of the activities is to waste time, as a luxury that can be afforded. That is the difference!¡±


    Bridget sighed. ¡°You ought not to say things that paint you in a bad light, my lady.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense, Bridget. These are important matters to discuss!¡±


    Mel was only half-paying attention to the conversation. Her dark mood was coloring her perception, making it difficult to engage with things in the moment.


    ¡°My family are kind of nobles,¡± Mel said, rather absent-mindedly.


    Aina and Bridget both shot her a look of shock.


    ¡°Eh?¡± said Aina, ¡°what did you say?¡±


    Mel turned her lowered eyes at the princess. ¡°Not to the degree of you, of course. We¡¯re not royalty. But the Frost family have been wealthy acolytes of Extremis City for hundreds of years. I think my mother still technically owns some property in the old quarter.¡±


    Mel looked at the Otter House. ¡°How do you think my papa even afforded this place? He got to build a place in his image, in the style he wanted, on this beautiful property. You don¡¯t get to do that unless you¡¯re very rich.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s quite obvious now that you¡¯ve said it,¡± Bridget put a thoughtful hand to her chin, ¡°Mr. Frost doesn¡¯t live here, but he owns and maintains the property, not at all a small expense, where he rents it to students for cheap. He also must have an additional property for habitation in the city. That¡¯s not the behavior of a man who worries about money.¡±


    ¡°But this is fantastic!¡± declared Aina, her eyes shining in excitement. She grasped Mel¡¯s hand and shook it, as if meeting her for the first time. ¡°I knew from the moment we met we were similar sorts of people!¡±


    Mel raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is that so¡­?¡±


    ¡°You have a gentlewoman¡¯s touch and manner!¡± Aina nodded to herself, proud that she had apparently guessed all this from the start. ¡°How else could you tolerate being roommates with that fastidious man? To cohabitate with one such as him requires a certain higher standard!¡±


    Mel stared out at nothing. ¡°Do you really believe all that nonsense you say?¡±


    She hadn¡¯t meant to say anything, but once the world left her mouths, she decided she didn¡¯t feel like taking them back.


    Aina looked at her, stunned. Bridget watched with narrowed eyes, carefully taking account of the proceedings.


    ¡°Anyway, it didn¡¯t really matter,¡± continued Mel, despite herself. ¡°If my family was rich or not. It didn¡¯t really change anything. The heir and the patriarch dying so close together would devastate any family. And my mother was never up to any task¡­ So what else can my little brother do but¡­?¡±


    She trailed off. A long moment passed, with nothing being heard but some distant birds in the distance.


    Bridget bent down to a knee, though with her height she was still imposing. ¡°Ms. Mel, are you quite alright?¡±


    Mel smiled sadly at the attendant. ¡°Yes. But I¡¯d like to be alone now, if that¡¯s okay.¡±


    Bridget nodded with understanding. ¡°Of course. My lady, come on.¡±


    ¡°But Bridget, we can¡¯t just leave-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s for the best, my lady. Please. We need to get some of these things inside.¡±


    Eventually, Bridget¡¯s steady words and Aina¡¯s protests faded out of ear-range.


    Alone again. Mel supposed it was better that way. She wanted to be alone, but also wanted all of a sudden to see Cal.


    What would you call such a feeling?


    ¡°Old man. In his eighties, approximately. Close to dying, I think. He wasn¡¯t really looking at anything as he shuffled along, his daughter supporting his arm. I don¡¯t think he even saw her...¡±


    Mel didn¡¯t feel like continuing anymore, didn¡¯t feel like talking.


    It was getting near to the end of the afternoon. The sun was beginning its last descent. Mel had stayed on the hill all day. The activity had brought her no greater satisfaction or fulfillment, as it typically did. Instead, she felt cold and somewhat angry, though she had nothing to direct her anger at all.


    Her eyes traced a line in the air. She raised the recorder a final time.


    ¡°Young woman. My age. Well, my age if I was still alive. Maybe nineteen. Am I still nineteen? I guess I¡¯m technically over forty, if we¡¯re going strictly by time passed. Oh God¡­ somehow, that gives me a bigger existential crisis than being dead. Anyway, this woman has¡­ short, dark hair, small nose, and freckles. Wearing a cute yellow blouse¡­ Um, what else¡­ She looks happy. She¡¯s really pretty, too. In the prime of her youth, I guess you could say. I bet she¡¯s really popular at school. Probably has a boyfriend or a girlfriend. She looks like that type ¡ª the type that really, really enjoys her life. Makes the most of every second. Can I say something kind of childish and stupid and pointless? I¡¯m going to do it. I¡¯m by myself, after all, so it¡¯s the perfect time. I wish I could have worn a blouse like that, once, when I was alive. Or anything cute: dresses, or short skirts that would make the boys blush, or something kinda quirky, like¡­ um pantaloons. I would have rocked some pantaloons. It would have really been something. I would have twirled in front of the mirror for hours, just laughing and laughing. I would have stolen some make-up from mother¡¯s cabinet for the occasion, too. Some eyeliner, some blush, like you see in the commercials. Imagine the look on mother¡¯s face if she ever discovered¡­ *Silence for a long time* Anyway, this woman¡­ um¡­ Would it be too absurd for a ghost to say I wanted to die when I saw her? I wanted to be struck down right there, haha, like God needed to smite me. Haha, yeah. I wanted to not have eyes.¡±


    Mel lowered the recorder. The sun was low, dying the air strokes of purple and orange. Cal would be making dinner soon, food that she could not eat, of course. Mel always stayed away from the dining room during dinner time. She thought that her appearance would create emotions of discomfort and pity among the other tenants.


    You can stay here, without purpose or love. Or you can take a risk, and see what¡¯s really waiting for you on the other end of eternity.


    A memory which did not exist had appeared in her head.


    Mel felt tired and silly and overwrought all at once.


    That woman was right, she thought, it would be better if I just didn¡¯t exist. I should just confess to him and disappear. A life of regrets. I might as well do that, at least. Knowing I¡¯ll be rejected somehow makes it seem easier. And then that will be it. Nothing left for me. Oh, maybe I can go visit Isaac. Just to see how he is. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s okay, but I want to see him anyway.


    Mel furrowed her brow. What woman had she just been thinking of? She couldn¡¯t remember. There was a slight pounding in her head.


    It was time to go. The sun was dipping below the sea, the light bowing to the dark. Everything was sad and beautiful. The city was saying goodbye to all the lonely ghosts.

 Chapter 32: Cal Swears It For a Million Years

    [November 20, 2042]


    Later, after dinner, Mel was watching Cal. They were in Room 01 together, the curtains of the window closed to the night. He was at his desk, writing something on a tablet, which looked like nothing that Mel had ever seen when she was alive. For the most part, bound to her father¡¯s house, Mel was isolated from the ways the world had changed technologically in the decades after she had died, but occasionally she would be reminded by some object or incidental comment that the city she could see from the lawn was likely different in many ways she could even imagine.


    However, that was not on the ghost¡¯s mind right now. Rather, her thoughts and emotions from the day were still welling up within her, and she had a strong inclination to resolve them somehow. So, with a dry mouth, Mel floated up to Cal, her toes a half-inch into the carpet, and looked at him with wide blue eyes. She bit her lip nervously, looked away, and then looked at Cal again.


    Cal, sensing something was wrong, studied her silently for a moment.


    ¡°What is it?¡± he said.


    ¡°Can you¡­¡± Mel broke off. Her voice faded into the silence of the room, and then she tried again. ¡°Can you¡­ touch my face? Just for a moment. I want¡­ I want to make sure I exist.¡±


    Cal opened his mouth, and then decided to not say anything in response to the strange words. He stood up and stepped in front of Mel. He touched her face, its physicality, its contours. The slope of her smooth cheekbones. The small chin. He ran a finger along her hairline, amazed by how solid her body felt ¡ª he could feel her warm face, the shivers resounding through her body, the oil in her hair.


    As he did this, a strange, unfamiliar feeling rose in him, like a firm and hot pressure in his bones.


    ¡°Can I say something weird?¡± Mel¡¯s voice was slightly muffled. She had pressed the side of her cheek into his chest, as if she was trying to listen to Cal¡¯s heartbeat.


    Cal smiled softly. ¡°Weirder than usual? Go for it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious,¡± came the muffled tone of annoyance.


    ¡°I know. Sorry, go on.¡±


    ¡°I think¡­¡± Mel paused. She didn¡¯t seem to be sure if she wanted to continue her thought, but her mouth moved anyway. ¡°Don¡¯t laugh. But if you weren¡¯t here¡­ I think I might die.¡±


    Cal eye¡¯s met Mel¡¯s. It was like he was looking into two strange and otherworldly pools. ¡°Mel, you¡¯re¡­¡±


    The ridiculousness of the comment almost made him smile again, but the seriousness of Mel¡¯s voice made her words sound too sincere to tease ¡ª despite the clear humorous irony of the statement.


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± Mel said impatiently. One of her hands had tentatively rested on Cal¡¯s back. It felt like a small crab. ¡°Don¡¯t smile, don¡¯t tease, don¡¯t do any of those things you do. Take me seriously, like you do with Bridget or Ram. I think¡­ I think if you hadn¡¯t seen me that day, I would be dead. Like I wouldn¡¯t even exist. I wouldn¡¯t exist.¡±


    ¡°Did something happen today?¡± Cal didn¡¯t know what else to say. Mel¡¯s hand had begun to slowly trace his shoulder-blades. ¡°Where did this come from? Did someone say something to you?¡±


    For a moment, and for a reason she couldn¡¯t understand, Mel glanced at Cal¡¯s shadow, which was cast upon the carpet like a dark puddle. Then she met his eyes again and leaned her face even closer.


    ¡°You saw me.¡± Mel said in a soft, airy voice. ¡°You saw me and made yourself irreplaceable. Do you understand that?¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t say anything. He averted his eyes. He heard the words and internalized their meaning, but he didn¡¯t understand quite what she meant. All he knew that he wasn¡¯t used to his heart racing for this long, wasn¡¯t used to the blood racing to his face. He found himself uncertain and not composed. Half of him wanted to break away from Mel¡¯s embrace, and half of him wanted to lean forward and fall into her eyes.


    ¡°Do you understand?¡± The ghost repeated her words. Louder, more insistent. The softness left her eyes, and the grip on the back of Cal¡¯s neck intensified. Her words were no longer a suggestion, they were a request. ¡°Do you?¡±


    Cal gulped and answered honestly. ¡°No. I don¡¯t.¡±


    That hurt her. He saw it immediately, the confidence and passion breaking in her face. Mel took a step back (or as much as that movement could be replicated while floating in the air) and her fingers felt lighter on Cal¡¯s neck, less corporeal. Her lip quivered for a movement, and then realigned itself as an ironic smirk. She pretended the words hadn¡¯t affected her.


    ¡°Yeah, of course not. Because you¡¯re stupid.¡± Mel said glibly, maintaining her composure.


    Cal performatively raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°Let me explain it again.¡± Mel took a deep breath. Her fingers sank into his skin. She was less real, less solid. ¡°A student accommodation is sort of a transitory place for its inhabitants, right? A sort of in-between place, in-between work and school, youth and adulthood, one location and another location. All of you are going somewhere. The princess and her butler and the robot and the glutton¡­¡±


    Mel closed her eyes for a moment, rediscovering her train of thought. ¡°And you. I feel like you¡¯re always going somewhere. Like you have your eyes on something in your future or in your past. And you¡¯re not really in the moment.¡± Her voice quivered a little, before returning to normal. ¡°But me¡­ there¡¯s nowhere for me to go. Not anymore. This is my house, and nobody else can see me outside of it. I don¡¯t even know if I can leave the premises. I¡¯m too scared to try. So when you all leave, I¡¯ll still be here.¡±


    She was nowhere now. Lighter than air. Through her translucent body shone the orange sunlight and the titled lamp on the end table and the floating motes of dust. Her hand was in his body and felt like nothing. Mel the ghost girl seemed ready to disappear at that very moment.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± Cal managed to say.


    ¡°Liar.¡± Mel¡¯s response was automatic. Her shoulders shook as she ran her fingers through her dark hair. She had withdrawn from him completely now. ¡°I know you don¡¯t feel the same way. I know I¡¯m just one of the girls that you consider and play around with. But¡­ goddammit!¡±


    She pumped a fist. ¡°I get a little lonely and depressed, alright?! I do! Being a ghost is depressing sometimes! Every now and again I start thinking about things too hard and it¡¯s like the whole world sinks into the pit. I don¡¯t want to be that way, but I am. So pay a little more attention to me and spoil me a little! ¡­I¡¯m not so strong that I can live without that sort of warmth. And I can¡¯t die without it either.¡±


    Mel took a shuddering breath. ¡°You¡¯re irreplaceable. You¡¯re what I return to in this little orbit of existence I have. And I know you don¡¯t view me that way at all. But if you pretended a little bit, that would make it all feel so much less scary-¡±


    Cal interrupted, somewhat uncharacteristically. ¡°Don¡¯t decide that all on your own.¡±


    Mel blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    Cal narrowed his eyes, something close to anger hovering on the top of his voice. ¡°Don¡¯t decide that on your own! ¡ª that I¡¯m ambivalent to your feelings and don¡¯t care about them at all.¡± His voice was slightly raised and Mel was so stunned by this unusual occurrence that she forgot to position her body so that it wasn¡¯t halfway in the wall. ¡°You¡¯re not an unimportant part of my life.¡±


    For a moment, Mel felt like her body was melting at these words, but the feeling vanished instantly as something uglier replaced it. She curled her mouth into a sneer. ¡°Thanks for the lip service, Cal. You can be sweet and sentimental when you want, but we both know that that isn¡¯t really true, is it?¡±


    Mel was surprised by her own words, words that she did not mean entirely but still felt in the back of her throat. Bitterness and resentment and frustration, built up over the course of some weeks were now being regurgitated into her speech. Mel felt strangely cognizant of this fact as she spoke and sneered ¡ª half ashamed by her own pettiness and childishness, half relieved to express the thoughts that had been churning in her head. ¡°The truth is, I don¡¯t think you think of me that much. I don¡¯t think you really care.¡±


    She had messed up. She knew that. The look on Cal¡¯s face immediately broke her heart, an expression of sincere hurt that she had never seen before.


    Why did I say that? Mel wondered to herself. I was about to confess, wasn¡¯t I? Why did I say that?


    A scary moment passed. It wouldn¡¯t have been surprising to Mel if Cal turned around and walked out of the room and never came back. The heightened frenzy of her emotions made such a thing seem to her entirely possible and entirely deserved.


    Cal¡¯s face changed again, became itself: calm, neutral, unfazed. ¡°You¡¯re being a little mean today, Poltergeist. And I think your characterization of me is cold and unfair.¡±


    Mel didn¡¯t say anything and turned her head towards the window. She wanted to evaporate into thin air. All her insecurities had come to roost at the same time in the worst possible type of expression.


    Her form shimmered. She was floating up slightly, towards the ceiling, as if she were just remembering now that gravity had no sway on her.


    Cal continued talking, his voice toneless and controlled. ¡°It¡¯s a shame if that is your impression of me in this time that we¡¯ve known each other. I apologize if I ever gave you an impression of sincere disinterest or ambivalence.¡± He paused, taking a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m not a person very good at expressing their emotions. I was never taught how to do that. My adoptive parents weren¡¯t¡­ kind people, and so they weren¡¯t able to express themselves with much sincerity or passion. So if I seem that way to you, that¡¯s why. But please be assuaged of the notion that how I look on the outside is indicative of what I feel on the inside. And I do feel things, Mel. Even if it doesn¡¯t appear that way,¡±


    He ran an anxious hair through his dark hair. ¡°You were my first friend, did you know that?¡±


    Mel¡¯s eyes widened, her silence broken at this unexpected information. ¡°What? You¡¯re¡­ messing with me. There¡¯s no chance that¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± said Cal, with finality.


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ well, you¡¯re not extroverted but¡­¡± Mel grasped at the air. ¡°You¡¯re intelligent, responsible, and kind. You¡¯re¡­¡±


    She began to drift downward from the ceiling now, the hem of her dress rustling with an invisible breeze. Gravity had returned.


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Cal said. ¡°If we¡¯re not counting my sister. You were the first friend I made on my own.


    Cal extended his hand, and gently grasped the ends of Mel¡¯s small fingers. He touched her ¡ª made her solid through his eyes and warm hands and the clear aura the ghost could see pulsating around him ¡ª and with a gentle pull, brought her down from the ceiling and into his arms.


    ¡°Let me speak plainly. Let us no longer misunderstand each-other.¡± Cal said, patting Mel¡¯s hair softly as her cheek leaned against his breast once more. ¡°Since you¡¯ve come into my life, only good things have happened. Only warm things, only fun things. I can¡¯t remember a time in my entire life that I¡¯ve been happier, where I actually felt comfortable and safe. And I don¡¯t want it to end. You are my irreplaceable, precious friend.¡±


    He looked into Mel¡¯s wide eyes, which were sparkling with emotion. ¡°Do you believe me?¡±


    Mel nodded, blushed red like a spring tomato, and buried her face in his chest to hide her embarrassment. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, her voice muffled. ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Her voice shook. ¡°I- I said some dumb things. I¡¯m really sorry.¡±


    ¡°So am I.¡±


    Mel turned her face slightly, enough so that he could see her blue eyes, which were welling up slightly. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean most of what I said¡­ I just¡­ I''m just so damn lonely, sometimes. I know it doesn¡¯t make any sense. But I do. I feel so far away from anything. Even when I was alive. I was never close to anything that mattered.¡±


    He continued stroking her hair and whispered comfortingly. ¡°Yeah. I get it.¡±


    They stayed still for a moment. Mel¡¯s hands rested at her sides, like she had gone limp in the embrace.


    ¡°Let¡¯s make a deal.¡± Cal said, slowly leaning away from the hug so that they could look at one another face to face, though he kept his hands gripping Mel¡¯s arms. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got an idea that will satisfy both of us.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Mel sniffed, but a glint of humor had returned to her eye. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have thought you were the type to form a contract with a wayward spirit.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, you¡¯re really intimidating.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Mel smiled, despite the redness around her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a super scary ghost. I¡¯ll haunt you for the next million years. This is all actually a really elaborate plan to get you to put your guard down. My machinations have gone unsuspected¡­ ¡±


    ¡°Alright, it¡¯s a contract.¡±


    Mel blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re scared of loneliness, of being left behind, right?¡± Cal leaned forward his head a little, his dark eyes pensive and concentrated, a sight which made Mel blush again. ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave my first friend, and I don¡¯t want to leave this place, at least for as long as possible. Our goals align. So here¡¯s my offer: I don¡¯t leave you behind and you don¡¯t leave me behind.¡±


    ¡°Swear it. One million years.¡± Mel said firmly. Her eyes were hard. There was no joke or glibness in her words ¡ª she meant it.


    Cal met the stare and grinned. ¡°One million years, Poltergeist.¡±


    Mel¡¯s lip quivered, and she beamed. She then placed a finger on Cal¡¯s nose. ¡°Our contract is sealed, beyond life and death.¡± A pause. ¡°Hey, Cal.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    A smug smirk crossed over the ghost¡¯s face. ¡°Gotcha.¡±

 Chapter 33: Ram Likes To Text

    [Text Transcript Between Cal and Ram via FoxChat - November Log]


    C: Dinner is ready.


    R: Okay, coming down.


    ---


    C: Dinner is ready.


    R: Okay, coming down.


    ---


    C: Dinner is ready.


    ¡­


    R: I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t see this until later.


    C: It¡¯s okay. I put it in the fridge for you - it¡¯s some spicy tofu with rice. Should be good if you just put it into the microwave.


    R: Thank you. I will.


    ¡­


    C: Were you out being a hero again?


    R: Um¡­ yeah, a little. A little, kind old woman got her cat stuck in a tree, and I had to get it out.


    R: Also, there was an attempted robbery in one of the corner-stores, so I stopped it.


    C: You say that, but how exactly did you do that?


    R: Oh, well, it¡¯s a little bit technical. First, I kinda jumped down from the rooftop, which isn¡¯t a problem for me because my father made me from really strong stuff. Then I pointed at the robbers and told them: ¡°Stop! Being a criminal is against the law!¡±


    C: ...Wow.


    R: Yeah.


    C: That¡¯s pretty dramatic and confrontational for you.


    C: Did you get it out without stammering?


    R: I stammered a little, but¡­ I think I sounded authoritative. You know, heroic. I¡¯ve been practicing in the bathroom mirror.


    C: Oh, that¡¯s you I¡¯m always hearing.


    R: Oh no¡­ please forget about that. It¡¯s embarrassing.


    C: Did it work?


    R: What?


    C: Your speech. Did the robbers give up?


    R: Oh. No. They actually shot me with their guns.


    C: Oh. ¡­I take it you¡¯re unharmed?


    R: Yeah. Bullets just kind of bounce off me, to be honest. They took off when they saw their weapons were ineffective.


    C: All in a day¡¯s work.


    R: That made me smile a little. Yeah, all in a day¡¯s work.


    ¡­


    C: I think this is the most we¡¯ve talked over text.


    R: I like texting.


    C: Really?


    R: Yeah, it¡¯s better than speaking. It¡¯s more honest.


    R: That¡¯s my opinion, at least.


    C: Interesting.


    R: Plus, you can type in these fun faces :)


    C: Emoticons?


    R: :D


    C: Why not just use emojis? Your phone probably will fill them in automatically for you.


    R: Images defeat the point of texting.


    C: :o


    R: Haha, I¡¯m serious. There is nothing interpretive about characters: the letters you type. That¡¯s all there is. That¡¯s comforting to me. It calms me down to communicate like this.


    C: I see.


    R: Kinda wish the whole world could be like that.


    C: Like what?


    R: Letters on a screen.


    ¡­


    C: Huh.


    R: Yeah.


    R: Good night.


    C: Good night. Try not to tire yourself out being a superhero, or whatever.


    R: Thanks. Good luck tomorrow, too. I¡¯ll be down for breakfast.


    C: Thanks.


    R: Good night.


    C: Haha, good night, Ram.


    R: :)


    C: :)


    ---


    C: Dinner¡¯s ready.


    R: Okay, coming down.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡­


    R: Dinner was really good today, btw.


    C: Oh? It was just some grilled cheese and tomato soup. It wasn¡¯t anything special.


    R: No, it was really good.


    R: It¡¯s always good, but it was really good today.


    ¡­


    R: Where did you learn how to cook? I¡¯ve always wondered.


    C: My sister taught me. She¡¯s actually a chef.


    R: Oh.


    ¡­


    R: I didn¡¯t know you had a sister.


    C: That¡¯s okay. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever mentioned it to you.


    R: Does anybody else know?


    C: I told Ellie and Mel. It just came up in conversation.


    C: I don¡¯t think the princess or Bridget knows.


    ¡­


    R: Maybe you should bring it up with Bridget. Just in casual conversation.


    C: ?


    R: I¡¯m only suggesting it. It might save you some trouble later.


    C: If you say so¡­


    ---


    Cal: Dinner is ready.


    Ram: Alright.


    ¡­


    R: I¡¯ve always wanted siblings.


    C: Really? Maybe Aina can give you some of hers. From how she talks, it feels like she has about thirty.


    R: lol


    R: But about the siblings¡­ yeah, I think it would have made me feel a lot less alone when I was¡­


    R: Well, when I first woke up, I guess.


    C: I think I know what you mean.


    ¡­


    C: She¡¯s not my real sister.


    C: I mean, she is, but not really.


    R: ?


    C: I mean, she was the sole child in the family that adopted me.


    R: Oh. I didn¡¯t know that, either.


    C: You can¡¯t know what I don¡¯t tell you about.


    ¡­


    R: Do you get along? You and your sister?


    C: We actually do. She¡¯s my hero.


    R: Woah.


    C: What?


    R: I just didn¡¯t expect you to use that sort of language. You¡¯re usually pretty measured when you talk. You must really think the world of her.


    C: Yeah, I do.


    R: That¡¯s cool.


    C: Yeah.


    ---


    C: Dinner is ready.


    R: Okay, coming down.


    ¡­


    C: Can I ask a question?


    R: Of course, that¡¯s fine.


    C: You¡¯re very different over text than in person. Why is that?


    C: You said before you liked it, but it¡¯s also your personality that¡¯s a bit different.


    R: Oh.


    R: Just less nervous, I guess. It¡¯s easier to express my thoughts when I can take my time to compose them in writing.


    R: You seem a little different, too. Talking in person, it would be hard to believe you¡¯re the type of person who uses emoticons while texting.


    C: To be fair, that was mostly your influence. I don¡¯t really text anybody that much.


    C: I¡¯m sure if Mel had a phone, she would be using emoticons non-stop and I would get sick of them pretty quickly.


    C: But let¡¯s go back to what we were talking about. Is that all that¡¯s different?


    ¡­


    R: ¡­Eyes make me nervous.


    C: Eyes?


    R: Yes. You can imagine anything and any emotion existing in them. Any judgment. It¡¯s just easier when I don¡¯t have to see.


    C: Do you think anyone around the dinner table would judge you like that? Bridget, Aina, Ellie?


    R: I don¡¯t know.


    C: They¡¯re nice people. They wouldn¡¯t do that.


    R: Maybe.


    C: They like you. They would be delighted if you talked with them more.


    R: Maybe.


    C: Aina is clearly very fond of you. She has said as much to me.


    R: Maybe.


    ¡­


    C: Do you think I¡¯m lying to make you feel better? Do you think I would do that?


    R: No. But maybe you overlook some things. I think you¡¯re too pragmatic. You think everything should proceed in a way that makes sense.


    C: I guess you¡¯re right about that. But I don¡¯t think what I said was wrong.


    R: You overestimate things. I don¡¯t think the other girls at Otter Manor dislike me. I just don¡¯t think they think of me.


    ¡­


    C: I think that¡¯s a harsh characterization.


    ¡­


    R: Have you heard of comic books?


    C: ¡­I think I¡¯ve heard the term once or twice.


    R: I really like them.


    C: I remember you reading some that day we met at the library.


    C: Where are you going with this?


    R: Well, those comics are usually about some fantastical world. All the characters are superheroes, or spies on the run, or something silly but endearing like that.


    C: You phrase that like you¡¯re not an actual superhero in real life.


    R: In those comics, there are a lot of robot characters, or super advanced AI.


    C: Okay.


    R: I think the writers who write these comic books all take the same inspiration. Because the robot character, the hyper-intelligent AI, or whatever, they always share the same sort of characteristics. They are practical, cold logicians. They are asexual. They usually have some fun acronym name, like W.I.R.E or J.O.H.N. And if they are the focus of the story, they always follow the same sort of arc in the story. It¡¯s always, always the same things. Over time ¡ª these robots in these stories ¡ª they begin to understand human emotions. They learn about abstraction, and friendship, and love. They learn about the ways their human compatriots and friends think about and understand the world. And they slowly open up. Always, learning more and more things. They begin to laugh. Joke around. Get a love interest, maybe. When they are not evil, the role of the robot in stories is to become more human.


    ¡­


    C: Go on.


    R: I think I messed it up.


    C: What do you mean by that?


    R: I never went through any of that. When I woke up ¡ª when my father woke me up ¡ª I never thought of myself in that way. I never understood the world simply through binary terms. It has always been overwhelming and complex to me. If my father hadn¡¯t told me I was a robot, and if my body wasn¡¯t the way it is, I would have never figured it out, I think. I would have gone through my entire life thinking I was human. A machine ought to figure out its relationship to the world. But I didn¡¯t. So now I¡¯m like this.


    C: You think you can¡¯t change.


    R: Yeah.


    C: And because of that, you¡¯ll always be what you are.


    R: Yeah.


    ¡­


    C: I think that¡¯s a lie you¡¯ve told yourself.


    R: I think it¡¯s the truth. I¡¯ll always be out-of-thought to them. I¡¯ll always be small. I¡¯ll never make a sound.


    C: Humans can change. So a robot that thinks of itself as a human certainly can change, too. I think that¡¯s the truth.


    R: Do you really believe that?


    C: I¡¯ll be clear and say something without pretext, exaggeration, or cynicism.


    C: It¡¯s one of the few things about this world that I believe in.


    C: Ram, you can change or you can stay the same. Nobody will force you either way, or judge you for it. It¡¯s up to you to decide whether you¡¯re content with how your life currently is, about the way that you currently are. You should ask yourself that. Because how you are now is what your future will look like, too.


    ¡­


    R: Have you ever changed?


    C: Yes.


    R: How did you change?


    C: I walked through a door, when all I had done until that moment was stay still.


    R: ?


    R: A door? Is that a metaphor?


    C: No. There was actually a door.


    R: Oh.


    R: What was on the other side of the door?


    C: Everything.


    R: Did you get what you wanted?


    C: No, not really. But it didn¡¯t matter.


    ¡­


    R: Good night, Cal.


    C: Good night, Ram.


    ¡­


    R: Thanks for talking with me.


    C: No problem.


    R: :)


    C: :)


    ---

 Chapter 34: Aina Can’t See

    [November 29, 2042]


    Aina, fourth princess of Luvinia, had become comfortable with the presence of the caretaker of Otter Manor. They were sitting together in the large entrance hall of the manor, and she hadn¡¯t even noticed or cared that they were alone together. Bridget was upstairs, cleaning the bedroom Aina and her shared.


    Aina wasn¡¯t sure when this transition had occurred, but as she peered at Cal from behind her book, and realized all at once it was true. Before, simply the presence of the commoner in the same room as her would be enough to put her in a confrontational mood, but now, she didn¡¯t really mind being together with him anymore.


    It was difficult to say what precisely had changed ¡ª certainly not Cal. The peasant, while he had cooled in his rhetoric somewhat, was the same fundamentally in terms of personality: efficient and cool-headed and thoroughly unimpressed by her.


    It is me that has changed, if only slightly, realized Aina, letting her eyes rest on Cal. He was texting on his phone, to that easy-going friend of his who had been over for dinner the other day and smelled like strange smoke. I used to demand his respect and admiration because of my position as a member of the royalty. After all, that is how it has worked for my entire life. Now I desire something different. I want those things from him purely on the basis of who I am. I will make him bow down to me with nothing but my humility, and level headedness, and kindness. He will kiss my hand and swear loyalty to me, declaring me the most wise and beautiful woman he has ever known. And then¡­


    ` And then what? Aina realized she hadn¡¯t thought that far ahead. Well, it did not matter. To get the peasant¡¯s approval was only a matter of inevitability, for sure. She would think about the next steps when she reached that junction. Perhaps she could keep him as a pet in the castle, where he would keep her company and fluff her slippers. Yes, that would be most amusing¡­


    Aina gazed more intensely at Cal¡¯s face, her book forgotten. She looked at his stern chin, and his dark hair, and the attractive ambiguity in his eyes.


    He looks a little bit like Didi, Aina thought subconsciously. I never noticed that before.


    ¡°Can I help you, or are you just going to keep staring, Aina?¡±


    Aina yelped. Cal was staring directly at her, and she thrust her face behind the book for protection. ¡°N-no! I- well, that is¡­¡± She was blushing for a reason she didn¡¯t understand. ¡°I- I was just meditating on the outcome of our last chess match!¡±


    ¡°Which you lost, as I recall,¡± murmured Cal, leaning back in his chair.


    ¡°You!- only because you cheat!¡±


    ¡°Oh, how precisely do I cheat?¡±


    ¡°By not letting me win!¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡±


    This was technically an argument like the kind they had had in the past, Aina realized. A barbed exchange of words. But unlike before, there was no more pointed or hurtful intention. Instead, it was the kind of back-and-forth, semi-ironic exchange of words that friends who were close may partake in, because they were close enough to not take the other too seriously.


    Is that it? wondered Aina. Am I¡­ friends with this peasant?


    She searched her mind. She realized that she didn¡¯t know. And then she realized that her prior fantasy of taking Cal back to the castle with her, however tongue-in-cheek, was completely impossible. Her father had broken off Aina¡¯s friendship with Didi because the other girl was simply not the right type of noble. She couldn¡¯t even imagine what would happen if, when she eventually returned home, she brought a commoner with her into the castle. It wasn¡¯t utterly out of the question that in his rage her father could possibly order Cal to be killed ¡ª to punish her, to set an example.


    Aina shivered. That would make Bridget sad. And her. It would make her sad, too.


    ¡°Aina, can I ask a question?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Aina was broken out of her train of thought again as Cal addressed her. ¡°Oh, yes, that is fine.¡±


    Cal lowered his phone and looked at her, and then the book she was holding, and then at her again. ¡°You¡¯ve been reading that book for a while, despite it not being very long. I think you were reading it when we talked at the end of September. And when you do read it, you¡¯re always squinting a lot and rubbing your head. You wouldn¡¯t¡­¡± He tilted his head slightly. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to be farsighted, would you?¡±


    For a moment, Aina couldn¡¯t speak. She felt as if she had been slapped, but she quickly composed herself. She looked at her book ¡ª blurry words that seemed to float off the page ¡ª and then she looked at Cal¡¯s face.


    ¡°Yes. You¡¯re perceptive as always,¡± she replied shortly, pressing a hand against her breast, regulating her breathing. It felt oddly satisfying to be rid of the secret. ¡°I am. I have always suffered from hyperopia, ever since I was a child, much to the dismay of my parents and guardians.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Cal nodded. ¡°Can¡¯t you¡­ I mean, I do not know how it is in your world, but¡­ are there no glasses that could correct such an issue?¡±


    Aina narrowed her green eyes, and then let out a long sigh, not of exasperation, but rather one of acceptance. ¡°I oft forget just how little you know about my world, Cal. Perhaps many of the times we butted heads could have been avoided if us two shared a little more contextual knowledge, so to speak¡­¡±


    Cal nodded slightly in agreement, waiting for her to continue.


    Aina adjusted the sleeves of her dress, a lovely red-colored gown a slighter darker shade than her hair. ¡°What you say is true. Hypothetically, a pair of spectacles could be fashioned by some renowned glass craftsmen and fix my condition. However, my parents would never approve of such a thing.¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Cal shook his head. ¡°Why not?¡±


    Aina closes her eyes for a moment. Was she truly about to reveal such things to a commoner? Yes, she decided. She found at this moment, her parent¡¯s ideals about the positions of commoners and nobles didn¡¯t matter that much to her.


    ¡°Cal,¡± she stated plainly, leaning forward in her chair in order to give him an ample view of her face, her thin waist, the way her dress clung tightly around her modest breasts. ¡°Would you consider me an attractive woman?¡±


    Cal raised an eyebrow. ¡°I can¡¯t help but feel I¡¯m being led into a trap here. You¡¯re not going to decry that a mere peasant like me isn¡¯t worthy to look upon you after I answer, will you?¡±


    Aina pressed her thin pale lips together in a playful smile. ¡°I promise. I¡¯m asking with complete sincerity.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Cal let out a large breath of air, as if mentally preparing to talk. ¡°Yes, Aina, you are very attractive. In fact, I suspect if you asked most people, they would even call you extraordinarily beautiful.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Cal.¡± Aina kept smiling, though it had taken on a forced aspect. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that. It was by design.¡±


    A flicker of apprehension came into Cal¡¯s dark eyes. ¡°By design? What do you mean?


    Aina leaned back in her chair, wrapping her waist in a soft blanket that had been placed on the headrest. ¡°I mean by design, intended, sculpted, forced, even. By the time I was ten years old, I had my nose forcibly broken twice and healed twice to ensure proper straightness and symmetry. Any marks or pimples or imperfections on my skin were burned with fire magic before being repaired, to ensure my skin would be pale and spotless as I grew.¡± Her smile had become practically cynical, there was not a trace of humor or joy to be found in it. ¡°I would personally consider my hair to be my best feature, but that¡¯s only because the hair of the royal family is carefully regulated through breeding compatible matches. Red is the color of royalty, and if a commoner is found with red hair, they must shave their head and dye it or be executed. That is the rule of law in Luvinia.¡±


    Aina''s eyes seemed tired. ¡°Oh, and my weight was carefully managed ¡ª of course ¡ª as was my diet. I would be weighed every other day, and if I ever exceeded a certain amount, I would be given no food at all. Somehow, it never seemed to be an issue if I was ever under their expectations. I¡¯m relatively sure this type of upbringing gave me several eating disorders I¡¯m still attempting to wrestle with. I apologize if I can be picky or snobbish about the food you make, Cal, but you have to understand that the type of food I ate for my entire life was so specific and of a certain ¡®style¡¯ that it¡¯s very difficult for me to accept anything that does not fall into certain categories.¡± She paused for breath. ¡°Oh, Bridget thinks you have an eating disorder, by the way. She is constantly comparing my former behaviors to ones you currently have ¡ª the way you take so little at meals. It¡¯s a source of constant worry for her. I won¡¯t tell you how to live your life, but if you ate a little more of the delicious food you cook for us, it would truly be a great source of comfort to her. ¡­Sorry, is that too much information?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cal said softly, ¡°I think I understand what you¡¯re getting at. So¡­ the glasses¡­¡±


    ¡°Completely out of the question for a princess to wear. Glasses can indicate a certain erudite impression, but princesses are intended to look beautiful so they can be paired with powerful husbands. There is a worry among the royal family, however true it might be, that allowing any member to wear glasses will lead to an impression of intelligence or scholarly learning, which might be a point of displeasure for certain suitors. Many noblemen do not want an intelligent woman, or at least not one more intelligent than themselves.¡± Aina shook her head at the silliness of it all. ¡°Not that I¡¯m particularly intelligent, of course, but it¡¯s the perception that matters. I do have a personal pair of spectacles for those times when I absolutely must read something carefully and Bridget is not there to read it aloud for me. But to wear them in public would not be allowed.¡±


    There was long silence.


    ¡°That¡¯s absolutely terrible,¡± Cal said, with conviction. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. That shouldn¡¯t have been allowed to happen to you.¡±


    Aina shrugged. ¡°It is what it is, and will not change. If you ever meet any of my siblings and ask, they will weave you similar stories. It is the expectation that comes with being royalty.¡±


    ¡°Many things are what they are, that doesn¡¯t make them any better.¡±


    Aina eyed Cal with slight surprise. She hadn¡¯t seen this side of him before: this passionate moral idealism. It was quite a stark contrast to his typical calm and semi-detached demeanor.


    ¡°Regardless,¡± Aina said, ¡°I hope this explains some aspects of myself. I know I can be prideful. You see? ¡ª even I have a degree of self-scrutiny. Depending on who you ask, this is a positive or a negative trait for a princess, and I have not decided which side of the fence I fall on. However, and this is a point I must emphasize to you Cal, my pride is not simply a manifestation of an overgrown ego. Pride in my family is a standard, a performance, a thing that must be indicative in every matter of our mind and our bodies.¡±


    Aina bit her lip, slightly. The book on her lap lay forgotten in the conversation. ¡°It is that standard that I have pursued and strove for my entire life ¡ª that I attempt to capture with my mannerisms, my dress, my speech. I have called you ¡®peasant¡¯¡¯ many times before, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Cal, a little sarcastically. ¡°You¡¯ve said that word like a million times.¡±


    ¡°That is a chosen terminology. Such terminology about all manner of things has been drilled into me. To refer to you simply in any way that connotes us being equals would be extremely problematic in the eyes of my family. Do you understand? Every fiber of my being is designed for one purpose, one mode, one type of existence.¡±


    And I still wasn¡¯t good enough, Aina added, silently.


    She shut the book. ¡°I¡¯ve kept you. It is time for you to start making dinner soon.¡±


    Cal nodded, but he didn¡¯t get up from his chair. ¡°Thank you for telling me this. I think I understand you a little better.¡±


    ¡°Ha,¡± said Aina with pantomime disdain, though she was trying her best not to blush once more. ¡°As if you could ever delve deep into such a complex and heightened soul as mine, peasant. Keep to your class, the secrets of royals will be forever out of your reach.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± said Cal, standing up. He smiled at her joke, but his eyes were still overwhelmingly sincere. ¡°And, just so you know¡­ while you¡¯re here¡­ you can use your glasses to read. Nobody here will mind.¡±


    Aina gulped, pushing down a lump in her throat. ¡°That is an appreciated gesture, Cal,¡± she said, crossing her hands in her lap over the tome. ¡°But, perhaps it would be best not to. I don¡¯t want to fall out of practice.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± He looked sad, which made her feel slightly sad.


    Just as Cal was about to exit into the hallway leading to the kitchen, he turned around and called out something else. ¡°Oh, Aina?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°You should teach me.¡±


    Aina shook her head, not understanding. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°A recipe from your world,¡± Cal smiled. ¡°If there¡¯s a certain food that you miss or are nostalgic for, let me know, I¡¯ll make it for dinner sometime ¡ª assuming the ingredients are things I can get hold of.¡±


    Aina blinked. She looked at Cal¡¯s face ¡ª his smile ¡ª and something in her chest moved, and the world followed suit. The air changed and the ground too. Even the light looked different for a moment. Something glowed that hadn¡¯t before.


    Aina found her voice, though she still felt weirdly unsteady, like she had suddenly been moved without notice a distance of many thousands of miles. At first, she thought about saying something half-heartedly, or ironically, or with a superior demeanor. But when she spoke, she herself was surprised by the sincerity of her words and the wide smile she could feel on her face.


    ¡°That¡¯s one of the most thoughtful things someone has done for me since I left my world. Thank you so much. I would adore that.¡±


    Her smile widened even more. ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to it, peasant.¡±

 Chapter 35: Roxy Kisses (Part 1)

    [November 30, 2042]


    Up until that point, Roxy had been having a good night. She had chilled under the moonlight by the skate park, beat up some punks causing trouble for a woman walking home, and drank three cans of her favorite flavor of energy drink (¡°Super Lime and Lemon Spear!¡± sold in a thin neon-green can).


    Needless to say, she was feeling pretty good ¡ª at the top of her game. It was the kind of night that filled one with energy and passion, where there was a certain undeniably electricity in the way orange and white street lights hit the dark asphalt of the roads, the fiberglass columns bowing like chanting monks over the bisecting streets of the city. It was a night made for staying up to play a video-game, to go to a bar, to kiss a stranger, to fall in love. Nothing could darken Roxy¡¯s mood on a night like this, not even her own condition.


    She stopped in front of the convenience store, drinking in the atmosphere, enjoying the way the cool air touched her skin through her thin clothes, though today she was also wearing a dark green raincoat that was at least a size too big for her, its hem almost touching the street. It had many straps and buttons, and because of its hefty material, looked rather comical over the revealing and goth-style clothes she was wearing and could be seen underneath.


    Yes, take a deep breath, she thought. It makes you feel alive, darkness like this. I want to hunt, have sex, and write poetry.


    Roxy smiled. And then that smile immediately fell.


    Some dumbass was walking down the dark street, right in front of her, without a goddamn care in the world.


    ¡°Motherfucker,¡± she said, more amazed by his audacity than sincerely angry.


    She set out across the street, heavy boots clicking against the pavement and the hem of her coat swinging around her fishnet covered knees. ¡°Hey,¡± she called loudly, crossing the intersection with irritated strides. ¡°Hey! You. Dumbass. Skandha, motherfucker, Mr. Too-Cool-To-Listen-To-Beautiful-Women, motherfucker.¡±


    Cal, because of course it was Cal, looked up, his dark eyes unreadable in the dim shadows that fell over the cement. ¡°Hello Roxy. You certainly have a way with words.¡±


    Not saying another word, Roxy grabbed the collar of his coat roughly and yanked with inordinate strength for her thin body. Cal was sent stumbling down a small alley between two brick buildings, emerging into a deserted square of cracked concrete. The faded geometry of paint on the ground and the tilted poles of aluminum designated the square as some sort of abandoned basketball court. Weeds grew everywhere, and graffiti decorated the brick walls.


    Cal had regained his footing, and looked at Roxy with a glare, but before he had time to make some remark she pushed him against the wall with the palm of her hand. She brandished her finger in his face, her chest jutted out, some metal bits of her belt jangling. Roxy only came up to Cal¡¯s chest, but the anger on her made it seem like she towered over him. ¡°What¡¯s in your head? Wilted lettuce, cold air, smooth stone edifices with blank expressions written on them? Is that it? Where¡¯s your brain? Don¡¯t you go to university for environmental engineering? Aren¡¯t you supposed to be intelligent?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t follow,¡± said Cal. He was adjusting a plastic bag filled with some contents in his hand so as not to drop it. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you again though, Roxy.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, lovely to see you again, cutie,¡± she grimaced, shaking her hand, still pointing in his face with anger. ¡°You look emaciated, as usual. Do you ever eat three meals a day or do you just slurp colorless gruel from a tube you keep in your pocket occasionally?¡±


    Cal¡¯s eyes glittered with annoyance. ¡°I get enough of that from Bridget, I don¡¯t need somebody like you on my case about it, as well.¡± He paused. ¡°I don¡¯t recall ever telling you my major.¡±


    ¡°Remember last time, when I said I wasn¡¯t a stalker?¡± Roxy said, baring her sharp teeth. Her pointed finger with its red-painted nail had begun to dig into Cal¡¯s chest. ¡°That was a lie. Ever since I first smelled you on the wind, I learned about you ¡ª Pascal Clermont ¡ª for your own safety, and for mine.¡±


    She stepped back, not elaborating on what she meant by this, tucking her coat around her to cover her thinly-covered body ¡ª not out of modesty, but because the gestures of her body had become quick and erratic to match her mind that was going at a thousand miles per hour.


    Finally, Roxy took a breath, steadied herself, and turned her red eyes on Cal with a more concentrated look. ¡°Did everything I told you on Halloween go in one ear and out the other?¡± she said, her deep voice softer than usual. ¡°I wasn¡¯t being facetious. This is dangerous, what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to take that advice into account when you don''t elaborate on who or what you are, and what I¡¯m supposed to be afraid of,¡± Cal said measuredly. ¡°Until you do, I¡¯ll take advantage of the 24hr Mart when I need to get some ingredients. I forgot I wanted to make some soup tomorrow, so I got some carrots and onions. It¡¯ll be good for everyone in the cold weather, and my acquaintances who go to school can take the leftovers for lunch in tupperware.¡±


    He held up the plastic bag, as if this justified everything.


    Roxy swatted it out of his hand. ¡°Are you fucking serious? Is that your grand excuse? I¡¯m amazed you have survived this long if you¡¯re willing to risk your skin for such superfluous reasoning.¡±


    Cal didn¡¯t say anything in response. He calmly retrieved the bag from the ground, wiping off a moist leaf that had stuck to it.


    ¡°Help me understand here, man,¡± said Roxy, trying to regain her cool. She was fumbling in the deep pocket of her coat for the fourth can of ¡°Super Lime and Lemon Spear!¡± that she had bought that night. ¡°You know that I¡¯m something supernatural, don¡¯t you? You know that. We discussed that. I¡¯m trying to help you, do you¡­¡±


    She trailed off, her voice taking on a tinge of helplessness. ¡°I know you don¡¯t know me very well but¡­ do you not believe me? Do you think I¡¯m lying to you?¡±


    Cal thought about it. ¡°No, I believe you. Despite your antics when we met on Halloween, and all those weird insinuations-¡±


    Roxy blushed angrily. ¡°I was just shooting my shot! A girl¡¯s got a right to do that, doesn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°-I gathered pretty quickly you were probably a good person.¡± Cal took a breath of the brisk hair, running a hand through his dark hair. ¡°You reminded me of my roommate. She has a lot of bluster too, but it¡¯s just her way of trying to communicate.¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    He fixed Roxy with his dark, cold eyes, which made her blush again. ¡°Besides, if you really wanted to, you could have killed me where I stood, if you wanted to. Isn¡¯t that right? I got that impression. A lot of the girls in the house I live in are similar. They¡¯re like that too, and yet I don¡¯t have a scratch on me. So far my intuition has held.¡±


    ¡°You bet your livelihood on such vague feelings?¡± Roxy grimaced. The lip of the energy popped and she downed it in only a few seconds, wiping her mouth. Then she tucked the empty can back into her coat. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to litter this time. Though I can¡¯t say I appreciate being compared to that ghost girl of yours. I¡¯m much more powerful and assertive.¡±


    Her red eyes narrowed. ¡°I take what I want, and who I want. I don¡¯t drift around aimlessly waiting for something to happen to me.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t insult her.¡±


    ¡°Geez, whatever, noted.¡± Roxy smiled. The tension and hostility seemed to have disappeared from her body and face ¡ª indicative of her fickle emotions. ¡°Even you get a little angry sometimes, huh? I wasn¡¯t sure if your emotional range ever exceeded mild annoyance.¡±


    Cal ignored this comment. ¡°You know about her ¡ª Mel? That she¡¯s a ghost?¡±


    ¡°Told you, I¡¯m a stalker.¡± Roxy produced a fifth neon-green can from her coat¡¯s inner-pocket, opened it, and sipped it more casually. ¡°I know everything. A ghost, a robot, and a pair from a different plane. Your hands are pretty full there, cutie. At least that other girl ¡ª what¡¯s her name? ¡ª Ellie, she seems normal¡­ well, actually, now that I think about it¡­¡±


    She trailed off, and then looked up at the starry sky above them, as if considering something for the first time. ¡°...Anyway, yeah, I got the roster memorized. You know, more guys your age would try to hook up with one of those girls, but you know what they say-¡± (Here Roxy brushed her hair back in pantomime elegance, as if she were strolling down a runway.) ¡°-the best girl always arrives last.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your input.¡±


    ¡°What else do I know?¡± Roxy put a thoughtful finger on her lip, letting her coat fall open to reveal her provocative clothes once again. ¡°Your school. Your friend, that guy with the long hair. Oddly enough, I was able to figure out next to nothing about your life before arriving in this city, and believe me, the information network I¡¯m clued in on is very detailed. It¡¯s just a blank slate ¡ª an empty void. Like you didn¡¯t even exist before you arrived on the doorstep of that house one day in September.¡±


    She grinned, her sharp-looking teeth glinting in the moonlight. ¡°It¡¯s very interesting. You¡¯re very interesting.¡±


    Cal pulled his dark coat around himself, the plastic bag rustling at his side. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°I told you. Keeping your dumb ass alive. Making you aware of how your existence is pretty damn precarious at the moment, and will attract all sorts of pretty things like myself.¡± Roxy shifted her body slightly, leaning a little closer to him. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard a ¡®thank you¡¯ for that yet, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    The girl perked her ears. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Cal repeated the question. His eyes had acquired an intense sheen to them, of a sort that Roxy liked particularly. ¡°It doesn''t make a difference either way to you, right? What happens to a random guy? Really just boredom?¡±


    Roxy sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. ¡°You¡¯re really going to make me say it aloud? Fine, then. I admit at first you were a passing curiosity. Your scent was like nothing I¡¯d experienced before ¡ª so intense and complex, like you were carrying scents from a thousand different types of esoterica. But then¡­ well, I saw your face. And heard your voice. Got to chattin¡¯ a little. I followed you. Learned about you. And I became certain¡­¡±


    Roxy leaned forward more, her face close to Cal¡¯s, her thin arms resting against the wall of brick that he had begun to lean against. ¡°You¡¯re exactly my type. Someone just like me.¡±


    Cal met her face, which was so close he could count her eyelashes. ¡°Like you?¡±


    Roxy¡¯s eyes seemed to glow. Something appeared in her face, an aspect that had been present the first time Cal had seen her watching him from the shadows. A thing not human, with no warmth or love, that only longed to devour everything before it.


    ¡°Yes, my type.¡± She whispered. Her lips were by his ear, her breath tickling his cheek. ¡°A person who can accept all I am, without judgement or emotion. A man without a heart.¡±


    Something churned in Cal¡¯s stomach. It felt like something dark and confining was closing in around him, making it hard to breath. The wind blew and stirred his dark hair, which had grown rather longer in the months since he had arrived at Otter Manor, yet provided no relief to the asphyxiating feeling.


    ¡°At first, I found you rather peculiar,¡± said Roxy. At some point her finger had begun to massage Cal¡¯s chin, playing with the stubble that was growing there. ¡°An oddball, neurodivergent maybe, a person not moved to action or emotion very easily, or at least not able to understand such things in a brief instant. But as we talked that night, and your actions grew increasingly strange, I realized it was something else. Rather, it was as if you had absolutely no concept of self-preservation, and certainly nothing that has happened tonight has persuaded me otherwise.¡±


    Even now¡­¡± Roxy dug her fingernail into the cleft of Cal¡¯s jaw, in a way that felt both painful and intimate. ¡°You¡¯re truly not scared of me. And neither are you aroused, which frankly, makes me a little self-conscious about my looks¡­ I look into your face and have no idea what you¡¯re thinking. No. You¡¯re not strange, or composed, or socially awkward. You¡¯re like me. You¡¯re completely off your rocker.¡±


    The wind scattered dead leaves over the cement. There was the sound of somebody walking in the distance, their steps clattering through the still night.


    Cal shifted his head slightly away from Roxy, though he couldn¡¯t escape the pale finger pressing against his jaw. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re mistaken. Perhaps you¡¯ve read me wrong.¡±


    Her red eyes were glowing again, her white hair excited and dancing in the breeze. ¡°Perhaps I haven¡¯t. I don¡¯t think I have. I think you know exactly what I mean.¡±


    Cal took her hand forcibly away from his face with his free hand, roughly enough that Roxy smiled at the insinuation that he could exercise any strength over her that she didn¡¯t already desire. Their hands clasped together fiercely, halfway between an expression of force and an expression of sensuality.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Cal said, his voice low and sharp. ¡°Your intentions are that pure-hearted? So what, you want to go on a date with me?¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± Roxy nodded to herself with satisfaction, as if he had finally arrived at the point. ¡°That sounds nice, if you¡¯re offering. You have a good face and no heart, that ticks pretty much all my boxes. Though to be clear, my intentions are anything but pure.¡±


    She put her face closer ¡ª too close. He could hear her breathing.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be shy, cutie,¡± Roxy murmured, her lips parting slightly. ¡°Just a taste is all I need. We can do the rest later.¡±


    The kiss was warm and deep and somehow cold all at once. Her tongue tasted sugary and artificial, like canned soda. Every bone in Cal¡¯s body tensed at once, screaming at him to move ¡ª yet there was something else at the back of his mind that resisted the notion. Another moment, it said. Another moment, you must know for sure.


    The kiss went on. For a dozen seconds, perhaps. Then the noise came, and they broke apart.


    Cal couldn¡¯t quite describe the noise ¡ª between a gasp of shock and a guttural scream. It pierced the air cleanly like a sword, coming from the right end of the square, and when Cal turned to see where it had come from, he saw Bridget standing there, dressed as always in her golden-button uniform. The paleness of her face and the expression of disgust twisting it made her almost unrecognizable for a few moments.


    For that moment, out of the corner of his eye, Bridget looked nothing like the patient and kind-hearted young woman Cal had known; she had been transformed into a ghostly and intimidating alternate of herself.


    Bridget¡¯s wide brown eyes looked at Cal for a moment with an unreadable expression, and then her gaze shifted to Roxy, and in that moment, the entire posture of her figure changed ¡ª shifting into something sturdy and automatic ¡ª like a familiar switch had been flipped.


    ¡°Mr. Clermont,¡± Bridget said. Even her voice was different, that coldness belonged to a stranger. ¡°Get away from that thing.¡±


    ¡°Bridget-¡± Cal began, though he had absolutely no idea what he was going to say next. Either way, he didn¡¯t have a chance.


    ¡°Get away!¡± she shouted.


    Bridget has never once raised her voice before, and the effect was so alarming and profound that Cal instantly obeyed her, scampering a step or two away from Roxy, leaving the white-haired girl alone facing Bridget, who stood on the end of the court.


    ¡°Ah,¡± said Roxy as she looked at Bridget, her voice playful as before, though now carrying an undeniable note of worry. ¡°The Maiden of Dornlathe.¡±


    She grinned with a mouth of sharp teeth, cast off her coat to reveal the entirety of her pale body in the light of the moon, and clicked her tongue. ¡°Ah,¡± she repeated. ¡°...I may have messed up here.¡±

 Chapter 36: Roxy Kisses (Part 2)

    [November 30th, 2042]


    The breeze had died, replaced by a silence occasionally disrupted by the sound of a car engine and the flickering of distant headlights passing over the abandoned and shattered basketball court. For about thirty seconds, nobody had spoken a word.


    It was Bridget who began. ¡°Mr. Clermont,¡± she said, calling out to him with a loud and clear voice. It sounded more recognizably like her, but Cal could practically taste the cold anger underneath it. ¡°Are you unharmed?¡±


    The question confused him, but he confirmed he was not.


    ¡°Good,¡± Bridget said shortly, and redirected her attention to Roxy. ¡°You. Accursed denizen-¡±


    ¡°My enemies call me Rosalind, actually-¡±


    ¡°-what were you planning to do? What have you done?¡±


    Roxy giggled, in a way that suggested she knew what she would say next wouldn¡¯t be smart but couldn¡¯t help but say it regardless. ¡°What have I done? Just stole a kiss or three, maybe more, who knows? I wouldn¡¯t want to go into details. It might make an inexperienced woman like yourself blush.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s face could have been made from stone. It didn¡¯t fluctuate an inch in emotion, but she did hold up her arm to her side, as if preparing to remove something from a pocket. ¡°Are those your last words?¡±


    Roxy pondered this. ¡°Would you consider yourself a stuck-up involuntary celibate first, or more a morally bankrupt willing puppet of an incestuous, corrupt, violent royal family of freaks and perverts?¡±


    The air shimmered, then screamed, birthing something from non-existence. A thick sword, adorned with jade and mother-of-pearl at the hilt, appeared from literally nowhere at the expanse of air next to Bridget¡¯s hand. Cal didn¡¯t even have time to track the length of the moonlight reflected along the blade with his eyes before Bridget snatched it out of the air and launched forward across the court of splitting earth and wilting weeds. She moved so fast that her profile became an abstraction of color and movement, her long brown hair dancing, the buttons of the uniform glinting, the extremity of the sword moving in an arc of a perfect semi-circle, its tip directed with precise and deadly intent at Roxy¡¯s neck.


    There was a sudden flash of blue light that blinded Cal for a moment, and when his eyes readjusted to the dark and electronic glow of the streetlights, Bridget was standing where Roxy had been a half-second before, her sword glowing blue before fading back to sleek steel. On the ground lay a few strands of pure white hair, clear against the dark concrete.


    Cal turned his eyes to see where Roxy had ended up. She was at the edge of the court, crouching as if she had just leaped backwards over a dozen feet from where she had been standing. Her expression was somewhere between stunned and flushed, an energy running all throughout her pale body.


    ¡°Ho~ly shit¡­¡± Roxy gasped, smiling sharply in a way that suggested it was more out of shock than anything else. Her hand was around her neck. ¡°You are¡­ way faster than I expected. I suppose Lizzie didn¡¯t warn me about you for nothing.¡±


    Her red eyes focused on the after-glow of the sword which Bridget held. ¡°An enchantment to slay immortal monsters, huh? Not ideal.¡±


    ¡°Bridget,¡± said Cal carefully, still pressing his back against the wall. His eyes were wide, seemingly sincerely taken aback for once. ¡°What is this ¡ª that sword? What¡¯s going on-¡±


    ¡°Mr. Clermont!¡± Bridget said harshly into the air, not taking intense her eyes from where Roxy was crouching. Then she seemed to calm down slightly, or at least take account of the situation from his perspective, and spoke with her normal voice. ¡°Mr. Cal. I¡¯m sorry, but I cannot take the time to explain everything right now.¡±


    Bridget held the thick sword out in front of her (it had some runes carved into the steel, he could now see), pointing the tip directly at Roxy. ¡°That thing is an evil-doer, and I must be rid of it, for your own safety and the safety of this city.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s sort of burying the lead there, cutie.¡± Roxy had stood up, flexing her arms and puffing out her chest. Despite her relative small and lean frame, the movement revealed an undeniable musculature and strength to her body. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t listen to this fascist if I were you. She¡¯s spent her entire life doing royal dick-sucking to replace the fact she doesn¡¯t actually get any. Her perspective isn¡¯t exactly unbiased.¡±


    ¡°Are you through with your taunts, monster?¡± remarked Bridget coldly, pushing a long strand of brown hair over her ear and tensing her large body. ¡°If so, fall prey to my sword.¡±


    ¡°Maaaan,¡± Roxy whistled, ¡°you really are mad, aren¡¯t you? Goddamn, it wasn¡¯t just the kiss, was it? Did you call dibs or something? Or are you grooming him so he can be one of your princess¡¯ paramours later when she gets bored of screwing her cousin or brother or whatever?¡±


    The arch of Roxy¡¯s smile fell into a horizontal line, and her voice took on a more serious aspect. ¡°Honestly, isn¡¯t your reaction a little overblown, here? There¡¯s not a scratch on him, if you haven¡¯t noticed.¡±


    ¡°Ms. Bridget,¡± said Cal tentatively, trying to shift his position so he would appear in her field of view. ¡°Can we hold on, just for a moment? I want to explain-¡±


    ¡°Mr. Cal, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Bridget repeated. Her eyes appeared to be drawn in his direction, though she seemed to be making a conscious effort not to look at him directly. ¡°I typically appreciate your input and thoughts, but in this situation, I think it would be best for you to remain quiet-¡±


    ¡°Besides, you can¡¯t call dibs,¡± Roxy had moved closer, glowering at Bridget, her large boots making loud steps on the ground. ¡°I already did. Whatever. Dibs times infinity plus one. Beat it, homewrecker.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°You too!¡± Cal rounded on Roxy, his confusion turning into indignation. ¡°Stop antagonizing her. Can we all just stop before someone gets hurt-¡±


    ¡°She tried to cut my head off!¡± Roxy growled, her voice animalistic and rough as she stalked forward towards Bridget. ¡°For what, vapid pride?¡±


    Bridget finally looked at Cal. Her brown eyes betrayed a little tenderness and desperation ¡ª a silent plea for him to understand. ¡°Mr. Cal, you cannot reason with this thing-¡±


    Something red whipped through the air too fast for Cal to track, and suddenly Bridget was clutching her hand in pain as her sword clattered and slid across the concrete out of reach.


    ¡°No more sword, so no more tricks,¡± Roxy said with a satisfied grin, stepping in front of Bridget. She adjusted the bra strap that had fallen off the shoulder blade in the commotion and pulled one of the fishnet stockings back over her knee. ¡°Now, we can talk a little more calmly and- Ugh!¡±


    Bridget hadn¡¯t let Roxy¡¯s sarcastic quip come to an end. The Maiden of Dornlathe has pulled back her arm, made a fist, and with all the power in her large and muscled body rammed the fist into Roxy¡¯s navel.


    ¡°What the- you bitch!¡± snarled Roxy, doubling over as she began to spit a mixture of saliva and blood. ¡°How the fuck are you so strong, you shouldn¡¯t be able to-¡±


    Roxy again didn¡¯t have to finish her thought, as the heel of Bridget¡¯s brown boot extended off the ground in a swinging motion and collided directly with her cheek. The foot hit with such power that Roxy¡¯s entire body followed the motion, slamming into the concrete with remarkable force. Roxy didn¡¯t even have time to react to what had just happened before the air screamed again, and again, a sword appeared in Bridget¡¯s hands, shimmering blue against the dark sky, swinging downward, swinging with deadly intent.


    And stopping.


    ¡°Please move, Mr. Cal.¡± Bridget said, her voice colder than it had ever been before, her eyes glaring at the young man who had stepped between the swinging sword and the prone body of the white-haired girl lying on the ground, massaging her cheek. ¡°Please move, right now.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Cal simply, meeting her stare with his dark, emotionless eyes. He didn¡¯t remember moving but wasn¡¯t surprised to find himself standing still, the blue blade of Bridget¡¯s sword paused an inch from his face.


    Bridget took a deep breath, as if trying not to shout. ¡°Why must you always be so-¡± She stopped, took another breath. ¡°Why? You do know I am acting in your best interest ¡ª and will always do so. Why are you doing this?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Cal blinked, as if the question was absurd. ¡°If I don¡¯t, you¡¯ll kill her, won¡¯t you? She hasn¡¯t done anything wrong that I know of. So I can¡¯t let you do that.¡±


    Roxy snorted from where she lay on the ground, wiping her mouth with her wrist to dispel the saliva that had congealed there.


    Bridget gritted her teeth, her brown eyes flashing with anger. ¡°She is dangerous, a dangerous type of existence-¡±


    ¡°One that has done nothing to deserve to be killed, from what I know-¡±


    ¡°That is the problem, what you know is not everything that must be considered, Mr. Cal. I know these creatures¡­ she¡­ she is dangerous-¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t stand by and let you kill her when she hasn¡¯t done anything wrong. In fact, she has tried to help me. Don¡¯t claim it¡¯s for my sake either, as if I would have wanted something like that. I¡¯ve never seen you like this, Ms. Bridget.¡±


    ¡°You¡­!¡± Bridget''s jaw tightened, and Cal thought her eyes looked a little misty. She seemed to be having trouble getting out a complete sentence, and the sword in her hands shook. ¡°You have no¡­ why are you defending something like her. Do¡­ do you have so little faith in me¡­ I thought- I thought...¡±


    Bridget¡¯s face twisted. ¡°Does it all matter so little to you?¡±


    ¡°Everything¡­ is just the same to me, Bridget. Everything, forever.¡± Cal said softly, his sharp profile illuminated by the streetlights that hung over the court. ¡°Nothing¡­ is supposed to matter that much¡­. Please¡­ put the sword down¡­ I don¡¯t want you to harm anyone.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s eyes widened, a complex and hurt emotion swirling within them. She lowered the sword. It vanished into the air. She lowered her arms, hanging them at her side in defeat. She took a step back. She looked at Roxy, who was smirking from her place on the ground, and then she looked at Cal. And whatever was in her eyes died.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said shortly. ¡°Do what you want, Mr. Cal. It makes no difference to me.¡±


    ¡°Oh ho!¡± said Roxy. She was now on her knees, still breathing a little hard and wincing. ¡°Better luck next time, Bridget! Looks like I won this round.¡±


    ¡°Roxy,¡± said Cal tonelessly, still looking at Bridget¡¯s face. ¡°Sorry, could you leave me and Bridget alone? We can finish what we were discussing later.¡±


    Roxy bit her lip, as if dissatisfied by this somehow, but then shrugged. ¡°Whatever, the good part is already over.¡± She went to the wall and picked up the coat she had discarded, shrugging into it. ¡°See you later cutie. By the by, if some old crone named Delilah shows up asking about me, you haven¡¯t heard a thing, kapische?¡±


    Then Roxy looked at Bridget. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard a ¡®thank you¡¯, yet.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s face was expressionless, yet still seemed furious all the same. ¡°What.¡±


    ¡°For the kiss I gave your favorite paramour,¡± Roxy playfully touched her bottom lip with the tip of a red finger, which was dripping blood ever so slightly. ¡°The saliva, dummy. He¡¯s marked with my scent now. So all the monsters like me leave him alone. Though I can¡¯t promise it¡¯ll keep away all the other bullshit he¡¯s pulling into his orbit.¡±


    Roxy nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied with her words. ¡°Your punch still hurts like a bitch, so I''mma go sleep this off. Toodles, losers. See you later.¡±


    With a hop and a skip, she was around the corner and gone. Cal and Bridget were alone in the court.


    There was a horrible silence. Slowly, in one continuous motion, Bridget released all the tension she had been holding in her body, bent her knees, lowered her rear, and sat down on the concrete. She didn¡¯t seem to care whether her uniform was creased or dirtied. In fact, her expression seemed to indicate she was tired of thinking or feeling at all.


    ¡°Dammit,¡± she said to herself, in a clear voice, addressing seemingly nothing at all.


    Another minute or so passed before she looked at Cal. ¡°Sit with me, Mr. Cal.¡±


    He did, cross-legged across from her, his rear nestled into an overgrown weed.


    Bridget smiled, or tried to smile. ¡°It¡¯s like one of our late-night talks that we have, Mr. Cal, or the ones we have early in the morning, before everyone else was woken up. I really enjoyed those talks, you know. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart¡­ it¡­ really made me feel less lonely.¡±


    Cal studied her. She was resting her head against her bent knees, eyes far away, thinking about those memories that they shared. Her brown hair fell down onto the ground, tangling at the laces of her boots and the cracks in the concrete.


    ¡°They meant a lot to me, too,¡± Cal responded finally.


    Bridget smiled, but it wasn¡¯t the warm, patient smile Cal was used to seeing. It was a little bit sad. Even somewhat sardonic. ¡°Oh, Mr. Cal, I really do wonder if that is actually true.¡± Her brown eyes looked at him as if trying to look deep into his heart. ¡°I¡¯m going to talk for a while now, Mr. Cal, and I would like you to listen to me, as you always do. I¡¯m going to speak as honestly as I¡¯m allowed, without compromising my lady¡¯s situation or secrets. And then I would like you to respond to what I say with honesty in turn. Can you do that?


    He felt a strange foreboding that he couldn¡¯t articulate to himself. ¡°Yes, I can do that.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Bridget tucked her knees against her breasts, let out a soft, yearning sigh, staring up into the sky ¡ª at the moon. ¡°It¡¯s time we really knew one another, Mr. Cal.¡±

 Chapter 37: Bridget Wants Some Honesty

    [November 30th, 2042]


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky I showed up at all, Mr. Cal. It was a complete coincidence. I often take walks around the area late at night, when I feel restless, as one does when one cannot sleep. Why not? It¡¯s cool and crisp this time of year, and I have nothing to fear from anything that may want to bring me harm on this plane. So when I came across you¡­¡± (a cough) ¡°-well, we can speak of that later. No, what I want to make clear to you right now is the circumstances that prompted our meeting at all, because it¡¯s crucially important to determine whether our current situation will continue.¡±


    Bridget let that hang in the air for a moment, her brown eyes distressed. Then she continued. ¡°Has my lady mentioned anything about her family? I do not know in detail what you two have discussed in your talks ¡ª or not discussed. I understand this may not be for want of asking, but you have likely noticed that my lady is a proud sort of person, and she doesn¡¯t readily volunteer information that she perceives might make her seem weak. I personally find that endearing about her, however, it would be disingenuous not to suggest this doesn¡¯t result in some annoyance. I brush her hair every night before we go to sleep and we often talk about our day. Needless to say, my lady becomes clammy and obstinate when your name comes up ¡ª when I bring it up. I think it¡¯s very difficult for her to speak about you because you represent a different sort of relationship than those she is used to. You are someone she cannot force to acquiesce to her or order her to acquiesce. You used the term ¡°peer¡± before, did you not? I¡­ liked the word, when you used it to describe the relationship between us two. Well, my lady has not had a ¡°peer¡± before, not in a true sense. As a princess of Luvinia, every single one of her relationships is based on power, sometimes unspoken, but always weighty. It is¡­ the same way with my own relationship with my lady, as sad as that is to say. We both know it, implicitly. So, I ask again, what precisely have you learned from my lady in those conversations you¡¯ve shared?¡±


    Cal brushed his dark hair back, tucking his coat around himself more snugly. It was beginning to get cold, and midnight was not far off. ¡°I¡¯ve learned bits and pieces, here and there. From what you¡¯ve told me, from what she has revealed. I¡¯ve guessed most of it, how she was raised and how she experienced it, the sort of effect it had on her.¡±


    ¡°And what is your opinion of how she was raised?¡±


    Cal met her eyes. ¡°From my perspective?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Horrid,¡± he said. ¡°She was never treated like a human being, or taught how to act like one. I feel sorry for her.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s eyes widened, like she had not expected him to use these particular words. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ glad to hear you have such empathy for her. Most wouldn¡¯t, considering her birthright. But I would like to make something clear. Whatever you¡¯ve guessed, or imagined, my lady has suffered worse in her life on account of her family. I would also like to stress how traumatic the transition to living in this world has been. You know my lady: her pride and self-consciousness, and consider the effect it has had on her to be essentially exiled from that glamorous castle ¡ª a womb of both abuse and safety. She is on her own in an unfamiliar setting, with only me for support, her maid, whatever else our relationship may entail. Nobody else offered to go with her.¡±


    Bridget sighed and shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain how quickly it all happened. A matter of hours. I will not discuss the details of our flight ¡ª if my lady wanted you to know that, she will tell you one day ¡ª but we knew nothing about what would happen next or what would happen to us. We only knew that Lord Cormac, my lady¡¯s grandfather, had some sort of relationship with the late owner of Otter Manor, Ms. Mel¡¯s and Mr. Frost¡¯s father ¡ª through that he was able to arrange housing for us, and financial support through the local banking services. I have a card that Lord Cormac gave me that seems to pay for whatever expense we accrue in this world. We stayed at a lodging, an inn, and I spoke with Mr. Frost with a phone Lord Cormac provided, to explain and introduce ourselves without raising suspicion about our true origin-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Cal interrupted, shaking his head. ¡°The phone worked across, like, dimensions?¡±


    Bridget almost threatened to smile, but then seemed to remember the tone of what she was attempting to impart. ¡°I do not know the details. Perhaps it was a magic phone, Mr. Cal, I really cannot say. Lord Cormac would be able to explain it to you, if you ever meet him. You two¡­¡± She paused. ¡°You two are not dissimilar. In your personality. He would take a shine to you, in his own way. That isn¡¯t important. From the inn, myself and my lady took the carriage you saw across the planes. Time works strangely in those tunnels of the in-between, but it felt like many hours, and it was very dark. My lady was completely terrified at that point, hyperventilating, trying to figure out a way she could escape her situation and return to the castle. Then, she practiced for hours in that carriage, reciting her introduction to her new ¡°servants¡±, as she said. You see, she hadn¡¯t yet accepted the reality of the situation, nor had she been given the tools throughout her life to understand it. She wanted to be perfect and to be adored. That¡¯s all she¡¯s ever wanted. Once you, the first person she talked to, instantly rejected her position, that was the last straw, I think. I apologize if she has acted ugly at times.¡±


    Bridget wiped her eye with a carefully placed finger, though Cal didn¡¯t see any tears. ¡°This is the crucial point, Mr. Cal. My lady is currently going through the most difficult period of her life ¡ª ostracized by her family, rejected by her world, and stranded in a new one where she has had to learn the principles of decorum and communication essentially from scratch. I am extremely proud of her. The strides she makes every day in empathy and expressing herself are wondrous ¡ª the change I have seen in her in just a short pair of months is extraordinary.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Bridget¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°But she is fragile. Exposed. Any little thing may pierce and wound her. I have relied on you, Mr. Cal, both for your own qualities and because I felt that you may be effective in catalyzing the required evolution in my lady. I wanted you two to learn from each other and get along. Because I like both of you. I like to see those I care for care for each other. You¡­ may have picked on my clumsy attempts to bring that to fruition. So I want to ask this¡­¡±


    Her brown eyes seemed almost black ¡ª a trick of the light. ¡°Was I wrong?¡±


    Cal swallows. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Was I wrong to depend on you? Did I overestimate your stake in the situation? Would you rather be left alone?¡±


    ¡°What does that even mean?¡± said Cal, annoyed at her vague accusations. ¡°Be clearer with your words.¡±


    Bridget responded automatically, robotically, black eyes looking at Cal, looking through him. ¡°You hate my lady, isn¡¯t that right? You find her troublesome, and ignorant, and not worthy of any particular affection.¡±


    ¡°I never said that,¡± Cal said, almost stuttering from surprise. He wasn¡¯t used to Bridget speaking like this. ¡°In fact, me and her, we''ve gotten along a little better recently-¡±


    ¡°You find my own interference annoying, correct? You resist my advances at every turn: helping you cook, learning your surname, even naming me as a friend was something I had to get you to admit with reluctance. Like pulling teeth. I ask you the simplest questions about yourself and you will resist me. You will pretend you don¡¯t hear. You withdraw from me physically, even a hand on your shoulder is enough to make you recoil from me-¡±


    ¡°Bridget, come on, that¡¯s not-¡±


    She continued, relentlessly. ¡°I am not entitled to your friendship, or details about your life. Goodness, I certainly have not been forward with my own past. But the active resistance you construct against me at every opportunity makes me feel that you consider our friendship more of a hindrance than something you consider important.¡±


    ¡°Bridget¡­¡± said Cal. His heart was pounding. Something in his stomach was twisting making it difficult to speak.


    Her mouth twisted. ¡°I admit, coming upon you kissing that¡­ girl was unexpected. I never would have assumed you were the sort of man interested in such late-night trysts. But I suppose I do not know you as well as I assumed. I suppose that was by design. Do you consider her a kind of confidant? You¡¯re wrong. That¡¯s only a monster in human form, a vampire born from the darkness. You may think it¡¯s harmless to indulge in physical pleasure with such a thing, but she will kill you eventually, as is in her nature.¡±


    ¡°You misunderstand,¡± Cal responded harshly, trying to divert the momentum of the conversation. ¡°I didn¡¯t- it wasn¡¯t¡­ she kissed me, out of nowhere. I was surprised, that''s all. That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t react.¡±


    Bridget¡¯s countered. ¡°That¡¯s not how it seemed. You seemed to be letting it happen, from what I saw. Not that it''s my business whom you rendezvous with, of course.¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± he said, his stomach twisting more painfully. ¡°Me and her have no special relation. She just kissed me, I don¡¯t really understand why. Please don¡¯t misunderstand this.¡±


    ¡°You defended her,¡± Bridget responded coolly.


    ¡°Because you were going to kill her!¡± Cal snapped, his passion flamed even as his stomach hurt more deeply. ¡°You do understand how that seems to me, don¡¯t you? You can talk about what is a monster or whatever is common knowledge from where you¡¯re from, but from my perspective, you were attacking a person for no good reason!¡±


    This point seemed to make her pause. ¡°She¡¯s quite beautiful. Aren¡¯t you being manipulated?¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t noticed,¡± Cal snarled. ¡°You¡¯re being quite hateful. Aren¡¯t you ashamed of the way you¡¯re acting?¡±


    Bridget glared at him. ¡°We¡¯re getting off topic. Whether through herself or through the monsters she represents, I consider that girl a threat to the eminent safety of my lady and yourself, Mr. Cal. And yet once again, we are at odds. Always, even when we enjoy each other¡¯s company, we seem to be at odds, and that makes me question whether it¡¯s wise for me to bring you into the circle of those who have access to my lady and her emotions. In the end, I must protect her above all else.¡±


    ¡°I never asked for this convoluted evaluation.¡± Cal countered.


    ¡°I wanted it for you!¡± The spell of cynicism had broken. Bridget¡¯s brown eyes were wide, emotive, as if scared about what she would say next. ¡°I think highly of you, Mr. Cal! I thought so the moment we met. I wanted you to be my friend, and I wanted you to be my lady¡¯s friend, even if it caused you some trouble, because I thought it would be interesting and enjoyable and would relieve some of the anxiety. I mean-¡±


    She interrupted herself, her breath shaky. She adjusted a lock of her hair again. ¡°It¡¯s not like I have any friends here, either, so I thought¡­ but maybe it¡¯s gone as far as it can. Maybe my own feelings have compromised my judgment, and it would be better to take a step back.¡±


    For a moment, the shadow cast along the ground behind Cal¡¯s sitting form stirred, as if smelling a morsel of food. But neither of the pair noticed.


    ¡°Ram, that sweet yet resilient girl, she told me something interesting once.¡± Bridget said, getting slowly to her feet, breaking the intimate circle formed by the pair. ¡°My lady was dragging her into something, as she typically does, and Ram ended up next to me, and between her stuttering and blushing, your name came up, Mr. Cal. She told me something that stuck with me. She told me that you once told her that you are a person who has an innate trouble with understanding others. That you are very good at pretending otherwise. ...I think I¡¯ve arrived at that moment myself. I don¡¯t understand you, Mr. Cal. Your motivations. Your feelings. How you conduct yourself. I can¡¯t continuously compromise my lady to do so.¡±


    She stared at him for a long moment, as if silently asking him to respond, to explain himself, to lay his heart bare at last and confide in her.


    But he couldn¡¯t. The air smelled like urine and dust.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Cal murmured at last, almost too quiet for Bridget to hear. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to cause you harm.¡±


    Her jaw tensed. ¡°I know that, Mr. Cal. At the very least, I can understand that about you. Thank you for apologizing, even if you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re apologizing for.¡± Bridget reached out a hand to him. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll walk you home. To be safe, in case anything else unexpected emerges.¡±


    Cal took her firm hand despondently, letting himself be dragged to his feet. It was the first of December, and it was cold.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he repeated.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, too,¡± Bridget said tiredly, in a manner that seemed to indicate she never wished she could fall asleep more than at this very moment. ¡°I got emotional in regards to¡­ I got emotional. It was unprofessional. It won¡¯t happen again. We won''t even speak of something like this again, if you do not want to.¡±


    They walked back to Otter Manor together. It had started to drizzle droplets of rain. They did not walk side-by-side, instead, Bridget led the way with Cal a few steps behind. Neither of them said a word.

 Chapter 38: Cal Is Clueless

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 Chapter 39: Bridget Gets Some New Clothes

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 Chapter 40: Sirius is Serious About Dating Her

    [December 10, 2042]


    It had been a long day for Ram. Being a superhero wasn¡¯t an easy side gig at the best of times, but on days like this, being Shining Hope Guardian was taking a mental toll on Ram. She had rescued three cats stuck in trees, broke up a kerfuffle at the overnight sneaker convention, and foiled Beetle Boss from robbing the west-sector bank (he had planned to break through the vault with some kind of laser-drill-thing). Then, back to the university for a pair of afternoon lectures that had to be held in person despite the typically online format, and now to the library to return the graphic novels she had borrowed. The comics her father had given her when she still lived with him were made of very thin paper, but everything she had discovered since, starring the genres and characters she had grown to love, was now packed in thicker, glossier tomes. The art was more realistic, less vintage, the storylines darker, less blankly optimistic.


    Ram dropped the returned graphic novels into the return slot in the wall, which carried the books out of sight on a conveyor belt. She missed those old comic books, the way they had felt between her fingers. Perhaps she could go into the city one day and find some to bring back to her room in Otter Manor.


    Suddenly cognizant of the weight of her body, Ram slid into an empty seat by a table and laid her head down. The bulk of her thick blond curls created a sort of pillow, and she let out a sigh. She didn¡¯t really want to move, but didn¡¯t see any point in sticking around the campus, where the hustle and bustle of students moving around her made her slightly anxious. Nobody would be at Otter Manor. Cal and Ellie had classes until later. Aina and Bridget had gone out for a ¡°day on the town¡± as Aina had told Ram with a smug smile that morning.


    Ram turned her head slightly, enough to directly face the curious face of the boy she hadn¡¯t realized she had slid into the seat next to.


    ¡°A~h!¡± she exclaimed, making a noise between a spoken word and an outward gust of air, straightening up immediately in the seat. Her face turned bright and her blond hair bounced in place as she jerked her body upward. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry! Ah¡­ um¡­-¡±


    She stopped halfway through her excuses, because she realized she recognized the green eyes, the long dark hair loosely tied in a ponytail, and the friendly-looking face that was studying her with patient attention.


    ¡°All good, Ram,¡± the other said brightly. ¡°It¡¯s not something you need to apologize for really, you weren¡¯t disturbing anything. I¡¯m just here returning something for a friend.¡±


    When Ram didn¡¯t respond, his face fell, and his voice became a little more somber. ¡°Oh, perhaps you don¡¯t recognize me. That¡¯s alright, I¡¯m-¡±


    ¡°Sirius Allange,¡± Ram breathed quietly. ¡°Cal¡¯s friend. Yes, I remember you.¡±


    She did remember. The night when Cal had brought Sirius over for dinner and one of Mel¡¯s weird movies, she had noticed him glancing at her a few times. It had made her feel self-conscious to have somebody looking at her directly ¡ª to acknowledge her existence in such an unmediated way. Those feelings of anxiety had only grown and grown through the night, and when Sirius had tried to talk with her directly, she had clammed up and become unresponsive, only managing a silent nod.


    Sirius hadn¡¯t tried to talk with her again after that, and Ram supposed that her meek behavior had bored or annoyed him. Thus, at the first opportunity, Ram had escaped back to her room, where she spent the night reading comics online through a sea-green monitor and listening to the sounds of the movie playing downstairs.


    Sirius¡¯ eyes widened when Ram spoke his full name, and broke into a smile. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a relief! I definitely thought you didn¡¯t. We didn¡¯t really talk very much, so it wouldn¡¯t be so unusual.¡±


    Ram ducked her head again, wanting to hide her eyes suddenly. ¡°N-no, that¡¯s just how I am... I, um, I have trouble talking¡­¡±


    Sirius laughed, not mockingly, but like he had been witness to some amusing joke. ¡°Yeah, I sort of guessed that.¡± His face changed then, becoming slightly more serious. ¡°That¡¯s not a bad thing in itself, though. I¡¯m somewhat talkative myself, so I like people who know how to listen and choose their words carefully.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you and Cal get along?¡±


    He gave a thumbs up. ¡°Pretty much. Also because I like to think his fastidiousness balances out my easy-going nature.¡±


    Ram smiled underneath the barrier of her blond hair, but still did not look at Sirius directly. ¡°That makes sense. Most of the girls at Otter Manor are pretty outgoing. Mel, Aina, Ellie ¡ª they¡¯re all very¡­ vivacious. Bridget is a little more calm, but she¡¯s confident in herself and can take a leading role when needed. With me¡­ Cal acts a little differently. He''s a little more¡­ personable, a little more encouraging. Because I¡¯m shy, I think he feels he has to assume a more active role. I don¡¯t know. Our relationship is weird. It¡¯s like he¡¯s a¡­¡±


    She trailed, suddenly mortified at how long she had been speaking. She couldn¡¯t remember the last time she had said that many words in a row to anybody besides Cal or Aina. Sirius¡¯ nonjudgmental demeanor had put her at ease in a way she hadn¡¯t expected. In response to this sudden feeling, Ram put one of her small hands over her mouth, as if to stop an unexpected leak.


    Noticing this, Sirius tilted his head downward slightly, his dark ponytail shifting over his shoulder, trying to catch a clearer view of Ram¡¯s face. ¡°You say that a little resentfully,¡± he commented. ¡°Do you not want to be treated differently?¡±


    Ram tugged at a blond curl, still staring at the table. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe. I guess it¡¯s only to be expected. People get uncomfortable when you don¡¯t talk very much. They think something is lacking that they can fix. And I do want to change, to become more confident. But I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t necessarily want to change in that way.¡±


    There was a long silence when neither of them said a word. Sirius had interlocked his fingers, apparently thinking about something very hard. Then he took a deep breath, put his hands on his nose, then on his thighs, took another breath, and fixed Ram with a determined stare.


    ¡°I know this is super forward and you can totally tell me to screw off if you want, but..¡± He began to talk in a rather breathless fashion, his green eyes filled with consternation. ¡°But¡­ are you seeing anybody right now?¡±


    That made Ram straighten up fully, revealing her bright red face. She stared at Sirius with a stunned expression as if she had been electrocuted. ¡°What?¡± she said in a quiet voice. ¡°By seeing someone, you mean¡­¡±


    ¡°Romantically,¡± Sirius confirmed. He had the solemn guise of a man who had taken a deep plunge and was determined to see it through. ¡°I mean romantically.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Ram¡¯s lips moved but nothing came out. Then she put a hand against her breast, bit her lower lip, and then tried again. ¡°U-um, well, that is to say, I-I mean, what I mean is¡­¡±


    She could feel her mechanical heart pounding inside her chest, far quicker than it seemed prudent for her father to have designed. ¡°That is to say¡­ n-no. I have nobody like that.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Sirius nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then to Ram¡¯s amazement, actually blushed as he spoke the next words. ¡°In that case, if you want to, do you want to go on a date with me?¡±


    Ram could practically feel the circuits frying in her head. ¡°A d-d-date? A date?¡±


    Sirius nodded again. ¡°A date. I know we don¡¯t know each other very well, but I¡¯d like to take you on one.¡±


    ¡°U-um,¡± Ram shook her head, as if trying to dislodge faulty wiring and calm the pounding of her heart against her chest. ¡°This-this would be a r-romantic-?¡±


    ¡°A romantic date,¡± Sirius said. ¡°As in, a date where two people hang out for fun and learn more about each other. That kind of date.¡±


    There was another silence. Then Ram finally asked the question that she couldn¡¯t ignore.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Sirius frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°W-why me? I mean, there¡¯s so many other girls¡­¡±


    Sirius looked at her incredulously, before his face relaxed from the tenseness it had been holding, turning back into its typically cheerful expressiveness. He almost seemed relieved she had asked the question. ¡°Why you? I mean, I don¡¯t know, why anybody? I find you really interesting. I actually noticed you around campus way back in September, before I knew you and Cal were bunking at the same place. You¡¯re always so quiet, but it also seems like you¡¯re always rushing from place to place. I¡¯ve never seen you hang out with anyone on campus, but you still seem to have a lot on your mind. You¡¯re really shy, but you¡¯ve got this¡­ I don¡¯t know, strength to you. I can¡¯t explain it. But it attracted me. And¡­of course¡­¡± He put up his hands slightly, as if in defeat. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ cute.¡±


    ¡°Cute?¡± Ram repeated. She remembered that Cal had once or twice complimented her on her looks, but she had never taken the words for anything else than gentle condescension.


    He grinned. ¡°Super cute, honestly. You know, I¡¯m the kind of person who goes with the flow. If someone needs a favor, I¡¯ll do it. If I¡¯m asked to go to a party, I¡¯m there. I try to take it easy and not rock the boat. I think I want to please people and be liked. That¡¯s why I try to get along with them, and my actions usually consist of doing what they want or need me to do. But when I saw you around the campus¡­ it was like a camera focusing or something. There wasn¡¯t any reason for it, at first. We didn¡¯t know each other. But I was curious about you, and wanted to know you. Before I knew it, I was thinking about you a lot. I got Cal to invite me over to Otter Manor in part because I wanted to have an excuse to talk with you.¡±


    He pulled back a little, wondering if he had overstepped. ¡°Sorry, am I creeping you out?¡±


    Ram shook her head. ¡°No, it¡¯s just¡­ nobody has ever asked me out before¡­ so I¡¯m not sure what to do.¡±


    Sirius snorted. ¡°Their loss. But you can say yes or no. I get that I¡¯m kind of springing this on you.¡± He self-consciously picked at his ear, wearing a smile halfway between confident and embarrassed. ¡°But I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d really have a better opportunity, so I just decided to go for it.


    Ram¡¯s heart had calmed down, and she found that she could navigate her thoughts with a little more clarity. She didn¡¯t know how she felt. She didn¡¯t find Sirius unattractive or disconcerting, but realized despite her lack of experience that that didn¡¯t amount to liking a person in that way. But how would she ever know what liking someone meant if she never tried to? He wasn¡¯t offering undying love or even a relationship. Just a date.


    She looked at him then, in the way someone looks at a picture they had seen many times but never took the effort to discern the particulars of its contents. He had a nice face. And a nice laugh. Sirius laughed often, it seemed; he had laughed a lot during that night at Otter Manor. She liked how his long dark ponytail hung over his shoulder at this moment, and the way his green eyes, looking at her diligently, didn¡¯t seem to have an ounce of cynicism or coldness in them.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Ram said, trying to keep her voice steady ¡ª to not stutter over her words. ¡°It¡¯s a date. I¡¯ll text you a day that works, I¡¯ll ask Cal for your number. I need to¡­ check my schedule.¡±


    ¡°Seriously?!¡± Series stood up, excitement on his face, and did a little fist-pump. ¡°That¡¯s great! It¡¯s a date!¡±


    ¡°On one condition.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Ask and you¡¯ll receive. I said I was a people-pleaser, right?¡±


    Ram smiled then, despite herself, both how sincerely thrilled he appeared and at the words that were coming out of her mouth. ¡°For the date, we¡¯ll go to one of the vintage comic book stores in the city.¡±


    A look of surprise came over Sirius¡¯ face, and then another smile. ¡°My perspective of you is changing already. A comic book store, huh? Interesting. Yeah, I¡¯m down. Let¡¯s do it.¡±


    Ram had to control herself. Her first instinct upon exiting the university library, confirmed to go on a date for the first time in her life, was to make some sort of squealing indeterminate sound and use the robotic strength in her legs to leap all the way to Otter Manor. She managed to bury the instinct, and instead briskly walked (perhaps a little faster than an average human would have been able to) back home, trying to hide the redness of her face by burying her chin into her coat against the wind.


    When Ram walked through the front door, she still felt strangely restless. Typically when arriving back at Otter Manor she would go straight into her room, but this time she turned right into the living room. Mel was in there, the only other person currently in the house, watching TV as she usually did at a volume a little louder than was strictly necessary, her knees tucked into her sundress as she watched.


    Mel noticed Ram come into the room and sit heavily on the couch, which piqued her interest. The two girls weren¡¯t particularly friends despite the closeness of their cohabitation, and this unusual behavior grabbed the ghost girl¡¯s interest.


    ¡°Everything good, Ram?¡± Mel asked, in a casual tone.


    ¡°Mmm, yeah.¡± Ram said, looking at the television in a fashion that suggested she wasn¡¯t absorbing anything on it. ¡°I got asked out on a date.¡±


    There was the sound of a frantic slam of a television remote, and the television went black. ¡°What!?¡± yelled Mel, who had propelled herself through the air and was now hovering next to Ram¡¯s face, her body floating horizontally in the air. ¡°By whom!? Who?¡±


    ¡°It-it was Sirius,¡± stuttered Ram, uncertain why Mel was so animated. ¡°Remember, the boy who came for dinner? Cal¡¯s friend.¡±


    ¡°Oooh,¡± Mel said, every muscle in her body relaxing and relief clear upon her face. ¡°Okay Sirius, I gotcha.¡±


    Then the ghost seemed to realize what Ram had actually said. ¡°Wait, my fellow horror aficionado?!¡± She blinked, her blue eyes alight with wonder. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you two knew each other that well.¡±


    ¡°W-we don¡¯t, really. But he happened to ask and I h-happened to say yes¡­ that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re bolder than you look, Ram.¡± Mel shook her head in wonder, her body slowly turning in the air. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re the first one out of us to get a boyfriend.¡±


    ¡°W-why would you say it like that¡­ and besides, it¡¯s just a date, we-we aren¡¯t really together, yet¡­¡± Ram couldn¡¯t seem to speak coherently. ¡°A-and Aina, she has a f-fianc¨¦ back home, that¡¯s much more impressive-¡±


    The lively conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mel peered out the window before ducking behind the back of the couch, the bottom half of her body actually sinking into the cushions. ¡°It¡¯s not anybody we know,¡± she hissed. ¡°You should take it.¡±


    Ram, unused to being the greeter of guests, blushed deeply but did get to her feet and shuffled out into the hallway, spurred by an energy created from this long, somewhat surreal day that she was experiencing. She patted down the immensity of her curly blond hair, which had become disordered from the walk home through the wind, and opened the door.


    Standing in the doorway was a woman. The woman had long black hair, stood quite tall, was maybe twenty-five or twenty-seven, and was wearing a fashionable yet practical coat of blue cotton. It was nobody that Ram had ever seen before, yet there was a strange impression of familiarity created by the profile of the woman standing against the white sky.


    ¡°Um¡­¡± Ram said, unsure what to say in this scenario. ¡°Hello?¡±


    Ram met the woman¡¯s eyes as she spoke. They were dark eyes, a little playful in how they shone, but clearly were hiding a keen intelligence. Cold eyes, not in a way that was alienating, but simply in a way that suggested pragmatism and ability.


    And then suddenly, inexplicably, before the woman even opened her mouth, Ram knew exactly who she was.


    ¡°Hi there,¡± the woman smiled, clapping her hands together softly in an awkward type of greeting. ¡°My name is Adelaide Clermont. Um¡­ how do I say this? As far as I know, my little brother is the current caretaker of this house. Do you know him?

 Chapter 41: Ram Gets a New Sister

    [December 10, 2042]


    All three of them were sitting around the table in the entry hall, leaning against the tall, red leather chairs, drinking tea from the top cupboard in the kitchen where Aina kept a container of ¡°royal-worthy¡± tea leaves she had brought from the world she had come from.


    The first was Ram: barely able to keep her cool under the exertions of this busy day, sipping the delicious tea but not tasting it at all, not because she had turned off the taste receptors that her father had installed in her tongue, but because she was so preoccupied with glancing at the stranger who had arrived in Otter House, claiming to be Cal¡¯s sister.


    The second was Mel. She was keeping it together even less convincingly. She was shaking slightly, thin knees pressed together under the sundress, staring up at the ceiling as if something was interesting up there. Now and again, she would dart a quick look at the woman sitting across from her.


    The third, this very woman, was of course Adelaide Clermont, glancing between the other two with a look of ambiguous amusement, like there was a joke she was keeping entirely to herself. She crossed her long legs and readjusted herself in the chair. She had taken off her blue coat to reveal a white dress shirt, like the kind a waiter would wear, which revealed the nature of her build. Cal¡¯s older sister was thin and tall like a bean sprout: no curves at all at the waist or chest. Her face was somewhat plain, in truth, almost androgynous ¡ª yet both Ram and Mel couldn¡¯t deny there was something attractive and feminine about it. It was the confidence and playfulness behind Adelaide¡¯s dark eyes, which studied them with a discerning look.


    ¡°So,¡± Adelaide said brightly, breaking the awkward silence that had held since the introductions. ¡°Which one of you two lovely ladies is dating my little brother?¡±


    The effect of these words was immediate. Ram let out a noise like a whistling tea kettle, turned bright red, and covered her mouth with her hands, as if not trusting herself to say a word. Mel, who had been pretending to take a sip of tea, coughed and spilled some tea on the carpet.


    ¡°Wha-? What? That¡¯s um-¡± Ram said, her voice shrill, unable to keep pace with the extraordinary events of the day she had been having.


    ¡°Pfft, I mean, you know, that¡¯s- you know, ridiculous- that is, because Cal... and me?! I mean-¡± Mel stuttered, so taken aback that she would have fallen into the very floor if all her willpower hadn¡¯t been exerted on keeping her body corporeal at that moment.


    Adelaide raised an eyebrow, grinning. ¡°Oh, that was a joke. It seems I underestimated my little brother¡¯s popularity.¡±


    ¡°M-Ms. Clermont,¡± Ram began, running her hands through her large blond curls, ¡°um¡­ that¡¯s really not it, I swear¡­ really-¡±


    ¡°Yes! That¡¯s right! He and Ram get along, sure- but I¡¯m his roommate so-¡± Mel slapped her forehead, realizing she wasn¡¯t helping her case with the direction her words were taking her. ¡°I mean, you know, we¡¯re friends, and he¡¯s helped me out with one or two things, so I do feel indebted to him in a number of ways, oh, but it¡¯s not just an obligation ¡ª I didn¡¯t mean for it to come across that way! I really do enjoy his company! Sure, he¡¯s a little grumpy sometimes, as you know, but I think people who are straightforward with their thoughts and emotions are very admirable, so I do like that about him ¡ª the way he doesn¡¯t talk down to me. I mean, he calls me mocking nicknames sometimes ¡ª but he always takes me seriously at the most important moments, he doesn¡¯t make me feel small. That¡¯s what I really like, so that is to say, me and your brother, we¡¯re¡­¡±


    Mel trailed off, horrified at the words that had come out her mouth and at Adelaide¡¯s widening grin. ¡°I mean¡­. Um¡­¡± For some reason, Mel bowed her head of messy short hair, like she was addressing royalty. ¡°Your brother¡­ is a very good caretaker of this establishment¡­ is what I wanted to say.¡±


    Adelaide shook her head, marveling at the unfolding situation. ¡°Wow.¡± She nodded to herself, took a sip of tea, nodded again, this time in approval, and then set the cup down atop a wooden coaster. ¡°You two are just the most adorable things, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    There was another awkward pause until Ram finally let out a tiny ¡°thank you.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to look so stiff,¡± Adelaide said, uncrossing her legs. ¡°It really was a lighthearted joke, what I said before. I know my brother isn¡¯t at all interested in that sort of stuff, but I¡¯m glad to see you two seem to like him well enough to get flustered about such an idea. Is he well-liked around this darling old-school mansion? Does he get along with all the tenants?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± Mel was rubbing her shoulders now, apparently not knowing what to do with her body as her bright blue eyes fell shyly. ¡°I mean, I can¡¯t speak for everyone exactly, but yes, I think we all like Cal quite a lot. He¡¯s very courteous and takes his job seriously. He makes us all very delicious food in the morning and at night. He¡­ tries to make everyone comfortable I guess.¡±


    Adelaide smiled upon hearing this, though there was a complicated emotion besides happiness present in it. ¡°He¡¯s doing good, is he? That¡¯s wonderful¡­. Food? That¡¯s the only thing we really shared in common.¡± She sighed. ¡°I heard that by chance it¡¯s a pretty double-X household, yes? That isn¡¯t causing too much discomfort, is it?¡±


    ¡°N-no!¡± protested Ram, who had finally refound the strength in her voice. ¡°It¡¯s not like that at all! Cal is very polite and gives us a lot of space when we need to use the shower or bathroom¡­ or stuff like that.¡± She interlocked her fingers, trying not to let her embarrassment affect her ability to speak. ¡°I¡­ think he¡¯s really self-conscious about it. Not in the fact that he ignores it, but that he¡¯s always making little accommodations so it doesn¡¯t become an issue. Gives us space when we need it, you know? I kind of¡­ consider him a dependable older brother-¡±


    Ram froze realizing she had just said.


    ¡°Aw,¡± Adelaide said, leaning forward close to Ram, which made Ram flinch. ¡°You are the sweetest thing. That¡¯s so nice of you to say about my asocial little bro.¡± She whacked her fist against the opposite palm. ¡°It¡¯s decided! As far as I¡¯m concerned, you¡¯re welcome into the family any time you want, Ram! I¡¯ve always wanted an adoptive little sis to complete the collection. Tell Cal. I¡¯m serious. If he protests ¡ª and he will, because he¡¯s no fun ¡ª tell him that as the older sibling my jurisdiction overrides his.¡±


    ¡°O-oh,¡± said Ram softly, her head swimming. ¡°Okay, then.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± protested Mel, turning her whole body with the exclamation. ¡°Ram, you can¡¯t just do that! There¡¯s, um¡­ processes to go through.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Adelaide stood, her long black hair swinging behind her. ¡°Sore loser, huh? Sorry Mel, you snooze you lose ¡ª the position is filled ad infinitum. Three siblings is the perfect number, isn¡¯t it? Only way you¡¯re getting in now is by marriage.¡±


    Adelaide winked, which made Mel blush. Then she clapped her hands together and declared plainly: ¡°I need to piss. Where¡¯s the bathroom, little sis?¡±


    Ram took a moment before realizing it was her being addressed. ¡°Down t-there.¡±


    She pointed, and Adelaide nodded, setting off with a jovial gait.


    After a long moment where the two processed everything, the ghost rounded on the robot. ¡°This is a nightmare!¡± Mel complained, pressing her fingers so hard against her forehead they actually faded into her skull. ¡°She knows my name and appearance! I¡¯m not supposed to reveal myself to outsiders in case things get complicated.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­¡± said Ram slowly, trying to sound non-judgmental. ¡°I m-mean, you did just sort of come up and introduce yourself. You could have just hid or something and let me handle it.¡±


    ¡°I knoooow,¡± moaned Mel in a whining voice. Her hands had now disappeared into her eyes and she looked like a macabre art installation. ¡°But it¡¯s Cal¡¯s sister! What was I supposed to do, not get the lay of the land?! This is a rare opportunity!¡±


    ¡°You wanted her to like you. Wasn¡¯t that it?¡±


    ¡°Mmmmmm, yeah, so what¡­¡± said Mel, slowly pulling her hands out of her face in case Adelaide re-entered the room. ¡°Come on Ram, you¡¯re supposed to be the nice one in this house¡­ get off my case, huh? Leave the little comments to Cal. He¡¯s rubbing off on you too much. You''re acquiring his wit. You shouldn¡¯t emulate him, he¡¯s a bad influence.¡±


    ¡°S-sorry.¡±


    The conversation died for another minute before Mel slouched in her chair, looking up at the ceiling again. ¡°That being said¡­ she¡¯s different than expected, huh?¡±


    Ram, who had been thinking the exact same thing, nodded. She tucked a blond curl behind her ear. ¡°Yes. When you look at Cal, you imagine his older sibling to be a very impressive or strict sort of person.¡±


    ¡°Like a final boss, or something, that''s how I imagined her whenever Cal brought her up.¡±


    Ram nodded again. ¡°I know what you mean. An answer to the enigma. Yet¡­ talking with her as we have been¡­ she¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°Just sort of normal.¡± Mel let out an exasperated sigh. ¡°Just a nice, normal person. I¡¯m going to be honest¡­ she¡¯s normal to such a degree that it doesn¡¯t really make sense to me.¡±


    The ghost glanced at Ram with a conspiratorial look. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not crazy, right? Cal doesn¡¯t really talk about the past, but just the way he off-handily mentions his childhood¡­ it doesn¡¯t really make sense, to be honest, if Adelaide is what she appears to be-¡±


    ¡°Not interrupting your theorizing, am I?¡± Adelaide said casually, walking back into the room.


    Mel and Ram jumped, beginning a series of excuses before Adelaide raised a hand commandingly. ¡°I¡¯m not here to discuss the past,¡± Adelaide said, with a little coldness in her voice that was similar to Cal. ¡°I''m here to meet the people my brother is currently spending his life with and see if they are up to my standards.¡±


    Then she smiled, back to normal. ¡°Both of you are. You seem like really lovely girls. Cal told you both he was adopted into my family, yes? ¡ª strictly speaking, we¡¯re more distant relatives than brother and sister.¡±


    ¡°Not in so many words,¡± said Mel, ¡°but yeah, I think we both guessed as much.¡±


    ¡°Good, but it¡¯s irrelevant,¡± continued Adelaide. ¡°He is my dear little brother. I will protect him. I hope you will do the same. There is nothing more important to me than his security and happiness.¡±


    Her voice shook for a second, a little emotional. ¡°I know it probably isn¡¯t easy, but thank you for being his friend.¡± She bowed her head slightly. ¡°Please continue to do so.¡±


    Then Adelaide checked a fashionable watch on her wrist. ¡°Almost 5 o¡¯clock. My shift at the restaurant will be starting pretty soon. I should go.¡±


    Ram rose to her feet. ¡°Y-don¡¯t want to stay a little longer? Cal will be back soon, I think.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very considerate,¡± Adelaide patted Ram¡¯s head affectionately, her hand bouncing on the thick blonde curls, like the way someone would reassure a skittish animal. Ram, not knowing how to react to this sudden, comforting gesture, simply let it happen with a burning red face. ¡°But I do need to go. It¡¯s¡­ probably best that Cal doesn¡¯t know I was here. If he did¡­ it would throw him off his pace, I think. Remind him of things. I should stay away a little longer and give him all the time he needs.¡±


    Adelaide withdrew her hand and made a half-motion towards the door. ¡°Honestly, it kind of kills me to go no-contact for so long, but it¡¯s for the best, I think.¡± She smiled half-heartedly, as if guilty for some reason. ¡°Ultimately, I¡¯m just a big sister who worries too much and doesn¡¯t do enough. But maybe with you two girls, and the rest, everything will work out.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for coming,¡± said Ram, a little awkwardly, touching her hair where Adelaide had been patting it.


    ¡°No problem. Getting a cute new little sister was well worth the price of admission.¡± Adelaide winked again playfully, then she shrugged herself back into her blue cotton coat, which had been hanging beside the oak doors. ¡°Oh¡­ one more thing.¡±


    Her dark eyes turned, looking past Ram, at the figure still sitting down in the chair. ¡°Mel, could I talk with you for a moment?¡±


    Mel almost passed on right at that very moment from fear. ¡°Me¡­ um¡­ alone?¡±


    ¡°You, alone,¡± said Adelaide, raising an eyebrow. ¡°I don¡¯t bite. Right outside, here. Just a moment.¡±


    The ghost shivered. Not due to the cold, of course. Her and Adelaide were standing on the crown of the lawn, just where the hill began its descent. The wind was catching Adelaide¡¯s dark hair and the hem of her coat, distorting her figure, making it somehow more strange and unknowable.


    It¡¯s just your imagination, thought Mel. She¡¯s just Cal¡¯s big sister. His cool big sister. What¡¯s she going to do, exorcise you? There¡¯s nothing to be apprehensive of. Maybe she wants to ask something innocent, like if I¡¯m his girlfriend! Oh, but what do I say to that? I mean, I¡¯m not¡­ yet. Maybe she wants to cheer me on! Maybe I made a good impression! Maybe she¡¯ll call me ¡°little sis¡±, too! That would be awesome-


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t get too close to my brother.¡±


    Adelaide¡¯s curt words cut through the cold air and wind. She wasn¡¯t facing Mel. Instead she looked out to the gray-blue sea churning with winter waves.


    ¡°What?¡± said Mel. She assumed she had misheard.


    Adelaide still didn¡¯t turn her head as she spoke. ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s a little harsh. But you like him, right? I could tell. I mean, you barely tried to hide it. He¡¯s a handsome guy, I¡¯ve been told by my friends, at least. And mature in his own specific way. It¡¯s not all that surprising. But I¡¯m saying this for your own good.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Mel said, not even denying the assertion of romantic attachment. As she did, a memory she did not possess floated in her mind ¡ª of another person telling her that she shouldn¡¯t be with Cal, for her own good.


    She felt sick all of a sudden. Did ghosts get sick? She didn¡¯t know.


    Adelaide¡¯s shoulders heaved with a large sigh. ¡°I¡­ expect I know my brother better than pretty much anybody else in the world. I know his character and his emotions. You won¡¯t¡­ dammit¡­¡± She broke off for a moment, then continued. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to be his girlfriend. He¡¯s not going to let you in like that. I suspect it¡¯s not possible for him.¡±


    Mel swallowed. ¡°I think you underestimate him, a little. I mean, I¡¯m not his girlfriend or anything, but¡­ we talk¡­ he¡­ he likes me¡­ he called me precious to him¡­¡±


    Adelaide clicked her tongue. ¡°I''m not saying he¡¯s not your friend, or that your connection isn¡¯t worth anything. I was being genuine when I said I¡¯m happy that he gets along with people here. But he won¡¯t be your boyfriend, no matter what you try.¡±


    A lump had appeared in Mel¡¯s throat. She didn¡¯t want to hear this. ¡°Why would you say that?¡± she said quietly. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ know that.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Adelaide said softly. She had finally turned at the quiver in Mel¡¯s voice, her eyes sincerely sympathetic. ¡°It has nothing to do with you. You seem like a great girl. Really sincere. I think you would be a cute couple, all things being equal. But it won¡¯t happen.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Cal¡­ Cal is¡­¡± Adelaide shook her head in self-irritation at being unable to express herself clearly. ¡°His heart has been given to another. I¡¯m sorry. But it¡¯s better you know now.¡±


    Everything turned on the axis. Everything went silent. Mel remembered everything. The woman. The shadow. Ezekiel the sheep coaxing her to sleep.


    I won¡¯t give up on love.


    ¡°Goodness, aren¡¯t you cold in just that dress?¡± said Adelaide, blinking. ¡°I thought you had a coat.¡±

 Chapter 42: Ellie Makes a Long-Distance Call

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

 Chapter 43: Cal Learns About Life On Other Planets

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.