“Don’t look.”

  [I’m not, I’m not. Also… is that really all you’re going to eat after all the running and exercising you did?]

  Ciaran was washing himself in the lake. The sun was starting to set, and the sky had already started to show swaths of pale orange and pink. “As it is, I don’t have a lot of food. I need to ration it so it lasts longer.”

  [That’s still not healthy at all. Come on — two fruits? I know you’re still hungry. If you keep eating like this there won’t be any point in training you, because you’ll never build up any muscle. You’re next to a lake — why don’t you try swimming deeper to see if there are fish?]

  Ciaran dipped his head below the water and scrubbed his hair, not wanting to admit to his hunger. When he emerged and wiped off the water on his face, he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner, then remembered the limited time he had yesterday, and today, where he had done nothing but run all day. Instead of replying, Ciaran silently turned to face the middle of the lake and began to walk deeper, when the water reached his chest he began to swim further from shore.

  He didn’t go to the actual center of the lake. He didn’t have much time until sundown, after all. When he swam to a deeper part of the lake, he looked down through the clear water and could see the bottom, but when he submerged himself and opened his eyes underwater, he could tell the bottom was very far away. He swam a little deeper and looked around but couldn’t see anything. No plant life, no fish, not even the debris of a broken boat. Ciaran, confused, poked his head above the surface and took a few deep breaths before diving underwater again and swimming to the bottom of the lake. The fading sunlight provided just enough light to see his surroundings.

  When his fingers touched the mud and sand at the bottom of the lake, he began to sift through it, trying to find any signs there was once life here. He could understand not finding signs of human life, since they had all turned into ghouls, but to not find any traces of animal life, either, pointed to a man-made disaster.

  It was a lake, after all. Why wouldn’t there be fish? Even if they all died long ago, there should be skeletons hidden beneath the ground. However, no matter how he searched, he couldn’t find anything. He swam to the surface and gasped when his head broke through the water. He took another deep breath before swimming to the floor of the lake again, wanting to try one last time. He swam a little closer to the center of the lake, and as he did, he caught sight of something sticking out of the sand. He swam closer and began to dig it out, only to see it was a ring.

  Before he had time to examine it closer, he took the ring and swam to the surface. As he was gasping for breath, he saw the sun approaching the horizon and cursed. He swam as fast as he could to the shore and dressed in the clothes he had left hanging on the pier yesterday, which had dried by now. Although he tried to shake off as much water as he could before he put them on, they still stuck to him and became wet when he donned them. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the time to dry off first. As he finished putting on his boots and stuffed the ring he found into a pocket, the sun touched the horizon and the ghosts appeared.

  Ciaran hadn’t seen the ghosts near the lake, so he was a little curious about them. He wondered what the correlation was between these ghosts and the ghouls he fought at night. He killed every ghoul in this local area last night, but right now, he could see children splashing around in the shores of the lake and their parents sitting on blankets on the grass as they watched them. A couple strolled along the pier and gazed into each other’s eyes, and an elderly woman was feeding birds on a bench across the street.

  [Kid, what are you looking at? Don’t just stand there, go find someplace to hide like yesterday.]

  Ciaran paused, then asked with doubt lacing his voice, “Do you not see this?”

  [See what? It’s just you, like it always has been.]

  “The ghosts. Look, over there is a kid walking a small dog, and right next to me is a little girl pushing her friend into the water. Across the street is a store that people are walking in and out of. There are ghosts everywhere… how do you not see them?”

  [Now you’re scaring me. What do you mean, ghosts? Is it because my eyesight is limited? Walk closer to one… If they’re really there, I should be able to see them. I am also a ghost, after all.]

  Ciaran walked closer to the parents watching the children play in the lake. He sat down right across from them, within the range of one meter, and waited for Envil’s response.

  [I’m concerned now. I think maybe you really have gone crazy. I don’t see anything. It’s just you.]

  Ciaran had thought until now that this phenomenon was unique to the Lost Empire. He was in disbelief at the thought that these ghosts were something only he could see. “Well, let me describe it for you. They’re transparent, and they do the same things every day, at the same time, during sunset. But they don’t see me. It’s like… a collective, city-wide memory of a few minutes is being replayed.

  [That…. is very strange. I’ve never heard of anything like it. When did it start happening?]

  “The day I got here.”

  [And never before that?]

  “Well, no. Isn’t it happening because of… whatever is going on in this place?”

  [That could be. It’s hard to say for sure, though. It’s not like it hurts you, anyway. Forget about it. There are bigger problems to worry about right now.]

  As they were talking, the sun set and the moon rose. The ghosts vanished, but they didn’t turn into ghouls. Ciaran frowned. It was similar to last night — since he killed all of the ghouls in this area, there weren’t any left. His starsight had gotten a little stronger. He could sense the hostility of the ghouls coming from far away,, but it was growing closer by the second. The first night he’d arrived here, he thought the ghouls and the ghosts he saw during sunset were the same. He spent the second night here in another part of the city he’d never been to before, so he never saw whether the ghosts of those “ghouls” disappeared or not.

  Now, he knew that despite clearing the area of ghouls, the ghosts he saw during sunset were still intact and hadn’t disappeared. If the two were truly connected, then the lake would have been empty of ghosts during sunset, but he still saw the people of this city reenact that “memory” as if nothing happened.

  What were those ghosts then? Why did he see them? Could Envil not see them because he was also a ghost? But that didn’t make any sense. Why couldn’t a ghost see other ghosts? Ciaran sighed, frustrated. He had no idea what was going on.

  [So, what are you planning? Are you going to stay here?]

  Ciaran stopped the questions swimming around his head and said, “No. When I first came here a few days ago, I saw a forest in the distance, in the opposite direction of the lake. I’m not sure if there’s anything there. It could be just as barren of life as the lake. But I still want to see whether it is or not. If it’s not dead like everything else, I could find something to eat by hunting animals or finding wild plants.”

  [Why didn’t you say so sooner? If you could eat meat every day, your training will go by a lot quicker.]

  Ciaran decided to start walking now rather than the next morning despite being so exhausted from training earlier. He had already been through two nights of the same ordeal, so he was becoming adjusted to it and didn’t want to waste time. He wouldn’t be able to reach the forest in a single night, as it was much farther from the city center than the lake was, but he the thought of being able to eat a full meal, maybe even with meat, was motivating enough to keep him going. He gathered all of the stuff he left by the lake and set off.

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

  As Ciaran walked through the silent, dark streets, he sensed ghouls flying toward him. A few ghouls approached and as he killed them he said, “What do you think could have happened here? You saw the lake earlier, right? There wasn’t a single fish or plant, not even the remnants of one. The ghouls here were clearly not naturally corrupted. How can an entire city full of people have their souls corrupted to such an extent? I don’t know much about dark magic, but it’s the only thing I can think of.”

  [You’re moving your sword the same way you would a mace. It’s too rough and barbaric. Imagine the sword was growing out of your arm — how would you use it? Make sure you keep your arm and muscles steady, as well as your lower body, and connect your movements more. You keep making such wide swings and stabs, its no wonder you pass out when the night is over. You exhaust yourself by swinging around that heavy sword so much when you don’t need to. Try to let your sword flow more naturally, like a river. As for dark magic… well, I probably only know a little more than you. But yes, you’re right. There was definitely dark magic involved here, probably a very ancient, forbidden spell.]

  Ciaran thought about Envil’s words as he fought and found that although he had become more accustomed to using a sword to fight, he was still using it as if it were a foreign object. After all, he had never really fought with a sword before. When he was younger he learned the difference stances and movements used in their family’s swordsmanship technique but he never practiced it, opting for studying inscription magic in his free time.

  As more ghouls flew toward him, he began to use the sword while consciously thinking about it. Before, he never thought twice — the only thing that mattered was his survival and victory. Focusing on how he moved his blade made a bigger difference than he expected. As he fought, he aligned the sword with the line of his arm, slashing through a ghoul in one second before turning his grip around and stabbing another ghoul through the middle, tearing a hole that killed it. As it turned to dust, he swung his sword through another ghoul and then stabbed through a second ghoul right behind it. He could almost see stars aligning them, creating a constellation that showed him the most effective movement pattern.

  [It’s only been a few days since the new moon, but tonight you should be able to see a special feature of the starsight of our family that can only be seen when you engage in combat and enter a very focused state. Whatever you’re fighting should have a very small, white star at the center. Our starsight ability will show you the most natural, effective path for slaying your targets. As long as you follow that path with the advice I gave you, you shouldn’t have to pass out later.]

  Ciaran hummed to indicate he heard but was too focused on fighting to respond properly. When they wave of ghouls ended for a brief moment, Ciaran reached into the bag hanging by his hip and opened his water canister, taking a few sips before he closed it and put it away. As he wiped away the drop of water on his chin he said, “What exactly is the difference between a normal spell and a forbidden spell, anyway? Are they all this… destructive?”

  As Ciaran walked, he listened as Envil said, [A lot are, but not all of them. Forbidden spells are ‘forbidden’ simply because of the price that needs to be paid to cast the spell. A normal spell would only drain your mana, or the mana found in natural objects such as different rocks, gems, plants, and animal byproducts. A big ritual would arrange different ingredients like these while drawing a big magic circle on the ground to lay out what the spell will do, how big it will be, and other specifics.]

  Ciaran said, “What other price could be paid if not mana?”

  [Your life. The lives of others. You said that this city is now called the ‘Lost Empire’ because its name and location were erased from the collective memory of the world, as well as all historical records. That was absolutely done by a forbidden spell. Any forbidden spell that has an effect like that would have a similar price, usually that of the caster’s life, if not their soul and very existence. Maybe the mage that cast this spell was erased from memory, but no one would know it, because no one would remember them.]

  “Why do you know so much about forbidden spells and magic? Aren’t you a swordsmaster?”

  [Well, there are a few reasons. When I was younger I attended an academy with a dual magic and swordsmanship focus. I was friends with a few mages back then. Also, don’t forget who my sister is. When we were kids, she would drag me to her magic lessons sometimes, telling me that if all I did was swing my sword all day I’d grow up to be an idiot. When I traveled the continent later, I met many different people, and encountered various situations.]

  Ciaran had never been to an academy before. He’d been taught from home by his family and a few select tutors they invited to the keep. He knew that since the curse broke out two hundred years ago their family stopped sending their kids to academies, but he still wondered what his life may have been like if he had gone to one. “What is it like there? At an academy?”

  [At an academy? Have you never been to one before?]

  “Well, you know about our curse. When it broke out, we couldn’t let anyone know about it so we had to distance ourselves from the outside world. Contact with people outside the keep was kept to a minimum, and anyone we did stay in touch with was investigated and sworn to secrecy. Not that it did much good.”

  Ciaran muttered the last sentence under his breath. Before he could think about it more, he sensed ghouls closing in on him from a distance and decided to focus on the current situation instead.

  As Envil chattered in his ears, talking about his stories from the academy days, Ciaran focused on fighting. As he walked, in between waves, he would sit down and get some rest, maybe take a few bites of a fruit for energy to keep going. Envil told him about stories of him skipping class with friends, napping under big trees in a large field of vibrant grass, and teachers reprimanding him for passing notes between two people that liked each other. From his stories and personality,

  Ciaran could tell that Envil was a vibrant, lively person.

  He thought it was a shame that someone that had so much going for them, that as so full of life, had their own cut short. Envil didn’t seem to care too much, but he had helped Ciaran so much. He wanted to find out how Envil had died, and how he ended up with his soul bound to a sword. As he swung and killed more ghouls he thought to himself that apart from finding out the truth of how he died, the best way to repay him was to prove that his teaching wasn’t useless. He didn’t know whether he was talented with swordsmanship or not and frankly, he didn’t care either. If he was talented, it would just make progressing through the stages a lot faster. He hoped he had at least a little talent, so that he didn’t learn too slowly and frustrate Envil.

  As the night progressed, so did his exhaustion, as was always the case. As his strength waned, so did his ability to completely avoid cuts and scrapes from the claws and teeth of the ghouls. Ciaran didn’t think this was because he was too weak, however. Fighting non-stop all night would be an impossible feat for some, and a very difficult endeavour for most others. It would take a long time to build his stamina to the point that he could reach dawn without being completely exhausted. When Ciaran found the library he’d been in earlier, he decided to stay at the entrance until after he woke up later in the day, when he would continue making his way to the forest.

  Sometimes, in between waves of ghouls, Ciaran would sit down on the stone steps and feel the breeze blowing past his skin. It was the first time he had left Neix Keep, and although the circumstances were terrible, he still enjoyed his first experience in the outside world. As the sky started to brighten, bit by bit, Ciaran wanted to pass out again as he had the past few days but struggled not to. He wanted to see the rays of dawn.

  In the distance, the sun began to peak through the horizon, pale pastels were brushed onto the sky and the ghouls disappeared, along with their hostility. Ciaran was about to lay down and sleep when the young voice of a girl rang out in the morning air.

  “Is he going to fall asleep? Well, he’s been fighting all night. If it were me, I wouldn’t last five minutes. I wonder who he’s been talking to though?”

  A semi-transparent, colorless face floated in front of his vision. Ciaran was reminded of the first few times he heard Envil’s voice and had to wonder again if this was a hallucination, but Envil wasn’t. The girl was upright at first, but then she floated upside down in front of him, her hand on her chin. Ciaran, too tired to think properly, said, “Why are you staring at me?”

  The girl’s eyes popped as she gasped and flitted away out of sight. She peaked her head over the railing of the stair way and said, “Y-y-you can see me! How? I’m… I’m a ghost! I’m pretty sure humans and ghosts can’t see or talk to each other!” She flew up a little and stared at him before saying, “I know. You’ve been talking to yourself all night. You must be crazy. Gosh, I got really scared there. Why would I take someone that lost their mind so seriously? Wow.”

  She wiped her brow in relief but Ciaran, watching everything in disbelief, said, “No, I’m not crazy. My sword has another ghost that’s bound to it.” He slumped over in delirium, muttering to himself, “Why am I talking to another ghost again?”

  When he fell asleep on the steps, he couldn’t hear the girl’s response, instead wondering if he would ever talking to another living person again.