If there were ever an old soul in a young man it would be Ghost. At only sixteen he had learned things about life that few beings experience in their whole span. He had accomplished tasks most spend generations working on and had mastered skills mere mortals could only dream about. And although pride would swell within him knowing these things, he also knew it was just a prelude to what lay ahead. His heart would hang heavy knowing what had come before and what would come to pass before he could truly be satisfied with his actions and accomplishments in life, some of which he may never reach and most of which were even frightening for him to consider. And though fear constantly played on his mind at the path he must take, he knew now who he was and whom he was meant to be. Even at sixteen he was destined to be greater than any he had ever met and accepted this with little regret and much desire to fulfill the role laid out for him. He was a boy just turned man. A child born to corruption grown into a tool for justice. A son. A thief taker. A brother. An Exalted.
Looking back, early life now made more sense than what was originally thought to be an awkward and uncomfortable time for Ghost. Ghost of the Virtuous Sun's Mother was born into a family of strong women who all birthed several females as well, being the last to bear a child and that child being a boy left her with a feeling of great loss. She bestowed him with Ghost to symbolize the sorrow she felt at the spirit that inhabited him, he would never be the girl she had dreamed of nor would his life be as full as she could have given him. His Father had more hope for Ghost's future, giving him a worthy and powerful name to remind Ghost that not all is lost even when things seem darkest.
Lacking an uncle Ghost was raised by his Father, Ore Willow of the Ashen, as soon as he no longer required a liquid diet. His parents were not married, as was the custom in much of the East, nor did they live under the same roof for the first half of his life. His father lived a complicated life, but simple in monetary value. He was an avid trapper and somewhat of an authority figure in the rural town near the river between Nexus and Lookshy. He was constantly settling disputes between the townsfolk, though he held no valid title people would come to him for his fairness and understanding when it came to any quarrel in matter of money or possessions. Ghost was privy to most of Ore Willow's dealings learning early on the value of fairness, and would often tramp through the nearby woods pretending to be a great woodsman like his father.
Ghost's Mother was a bit of a controversy herself. Saffron Glass the Flawless was the youngest of five and as such was given very little by her parents when she reached adulthood. She lived much of a barterers life rarely exchanging money for goods, as she possessed little coin but much value in other services. She would often accompany passing officials, military members, and merchant ships to the larger cities leaving her home for weeks to months at a time and returning with fancy and far off items to trade with her townspeople. Her education far surpassed what one would assume a peasant would have, and her manner of work and flamboyance of clothing and character was contradictory to the average life-style of the area.
Around Ghost's ninth birthday Saffron returned from one of her trips to Nexus with a large sum of money, and within a weeks time Ore Willow, Saffron, and Ghost were headed to Nexus to begin a much different life than he had previously known. It had seemed strange to Ghost at the time for his Mother to be making such a large impact on his life. Previously he had only seen her a few days a week when she was in town, but never had he traveled with her, nor had she made any decisions in his raising. Suddenly he was living in the same house, along with his Father, in a sprawling metropolis. And soon thereafter he was the older sibling to younger sister, Black Starfall the Glorifying.
Life became a little more full. Ore Willow began work as a Thief Taker, using his knowledge of hunting to further himself in the city. Saffron purchased a large home out of the slums and opened a higher class brothel, offering escort services to both men and women. With his Father now gone often on jobs, Ghost was left to his Mother's care which was little more than endless schooling sessions while she saw to her business or cared for Starfall.
He learned a great many things during this time, reading, writing, and even a bit of history of The East. He learned other things his eyes weren't meant to see as well, like how those in the brothel courted their clients with playful touches and gentle words. Or how the bookkeeping worked for both coin and goods, and who cost what, for how long, and how often. And probably the most interesting at the time would be those that visited his Mother, both men and women who would withdraw with Saffron to her own sitting room where Starfall was kept, sometimes bringing another with them. His Mother would wring her hands after the visitor left staring down at Ghost as if the business were something to do with him. If more than one had called that night the other would always stay and be put to some sort of work, usually of the cleaning sort, never seeming to linger more than a few days in Saffron's employment.
At eleven Ghost was old enough to begin learning the ropes of his Father's trade, a day he was thankful for as the brothel had become a bore after two years of study. On dangerous hires, Ghost was required to stay behind and solve various puzzles or training courses Ore Willow would leave him. On easy hires Ghost was allowed to accompany Ore Willow where ever the end would take them, sometimes even beyond the city. It was the hires that took them back to the woodland that always pleased Ghost the most, he loved learning about the natural world without the comforts of society and the complications of technology. It wasn't long before Ghost had enough skill and wits to begin accompanying his Father on moderately dangerous missions. Proving to be an excellent student Ore Willow began allowing Ghost to negotiate deals, track, and attempt the return with little to no help, just a watchful eye. Ghost was a born natural and it just felt right to him though he could never shake the feeling that something was always missing, like waking from a good dream and knowing you've forgotten the best part.
Ghost of the Virtuous Sun will always remember his thirteenth year. His parents had been acting in an odd manner for several months, talking in hushed tones and constantly eying Ghost. He felt like caged rat the way they looked at him, frightened of their peculiarity but also feeling they were just as frightened of him. His younger sister would often play mimic and whisper to him about nonsense, sometimes dropping a word she had picked up from the other conversation, most of which he didn't understand out of context. There had also been a trickle of visits made in the dead of night, some faces he recognized from their frequency at his Mother's brothel, most he did not recall. During the daylight hours they would pretend and continue on with their busy lives as if nothing was amiss, even showering Ghost with an unusual amount of attention and affection.
He had been working hires with his Father for several years and was promised that once he turned fourteen he could become his own dealer, no longer requiring the name of Ore Willow to accompany him. Perhaps all the strangeness at home was related to his upcoming birthday, safety was a constant concern for anyone working with the dregs of society. Only months shy of fourteen, Ghost and Ore Willow were working a case much like any other before. Nearby live-stock was being pinched at night, and with the frequency the farmers believed it to be the work of the same individuals. After gathering the information needed, they set off from the farmlands near the city out into the wilderness, following the tracks unseen by the untrained.
It didn't take long to find the culprits. Four of them, an easy enough group to take down especially when only one or two were needed to be brought in. Ore Willow gestured with his hands, drawing a circle in the air then grasping the space in his fist. He pointed to Ghost, then up to a tree closer to the make-shift camp the thieves were lazing about in, Ghost glanced at it and nodded. Ore Willow then flicked his fingers out, pointed one finger up, pinched that finger and thumb together, then made a fist, Ghost nodded. He then showed two fingers, pinched them to his thumb, then made a claw shape towards the ground. A simple plan. The idea was to round them up and net them down, Ghost would climb a nearby tree with the net, Ore Willow would toss out a flash bang to startle the group, shoot one of the bandits to either incapacitate or kill, Ghost would wait until a second was in the same condition from another arrow then drop the net on the remaining members.
Silently climbing a tree is much harder than it already sounds, add in the extra weight from the net he was carrying and Ghost was close to the weight of a grown man. Luckily this wasn't the first time he had been part of a 'round and net'. It took roughly twenty minutes to get into position, from up there he could clearly see Ore Willow crouched in the bushes fifty feet away. He made a bird call to signal everything was set, now was the time for the pieces to fall into place.
There was a loud popping sound accompanied with a small explosion as the flash bang went off, sure enough the group quickly jumped to their feet out of fright. Ghost slowly stood readying the net. An arrow flew out ninety-degrees from where the flash bang went off, plunging deep into the neck of one member. One down, one to go. Two of the three thieves quickly realized what was going on, one hitting the ground before the first with an arrow in his neck even fell over. The second grabbed a nearby sheath sporting an unimpressive main gauche, crouching as if being lower would give him some cover. Another arrow sailed through the air, this one coming from five yards left of the first, biting into the final standing bandit's shoulder, spinning him off his feet. Not maimed enough, the smoke must have thrown off Ore Willow's aim.
Ghost leaned forward to see if bandit three was recovering from his wound. He slowly was collecting himself, pushing himself into a seated position. Gauche was skirting towards Decker and Shoulder Wound, exactly how Ghost wanted it to go so he could net the two with any fighting spirit left. Ghost shifted his weight trying to get a better look at the measly three and then he was slipping off the branch, falling towards the camp below.
He wasn't sure if it was the impact that knocked his breath away from him, or if it was the sudden weightlessness as he plunged towards the earth. He only knew he wasn't breathing. It felt like he was watching the world slow down, he opened his eyes in what felt like minutes later seeing the theives slowly turning towards the sound his body made connecting with the ground and underbrush. He heard the thud reverberate through him. He saw the surprise pull their faces, and then the smile stretch across Gauche's. He must be the quick witted of the group. And then he felt his hand touching soil, realizing that in those everlasting minutes it was only the seconds it took for him to drop, his hand being the last to hit.
He still couldn't breathe and Gauche was moving towards him, his parrying dagger pulled out and back ready to sink into Ghost's prone body. Shoulder Wound was close on Gauche's heels and Ghost knew this was it, he was about to be skewered alive. Sure he was about to wet himself he struggled to breathe to simply utter a cry as any creature would knowing it's the end. Finally the breath came rushing in and with it a surge throughout his body. His hand went frantically patting around to find anything to fend off the oncoming onslaught, his fingers touching something smooth. Leather and wood. And his mind connected.
Before Ghost even understood what was happening he was pushed against the tree trunk, feet planted and moving his body up to a standing position. His eyes narrowing as he pulled back an arm and fingers twanging off a string. A short thin piece of wood sprouted from Gauche's diaphragm, black feathers making the red that instantly gushed from the wound look all the brighter. Ghost had shot him with an arrow. An arrow he didn't even recall picking up. Nor did he think to fire the bow he was holding.
He was starting to understand the actions of his limbs moving on their own accord as if he was relying completely on instincts to survive. He crouched and grabbed another arrow from the quiver near the tree. Gauche was on his knees spitting up blood. Ghost pulled back and knocked the second arrow into Shoulder Wound's chest taking him out of the fight for good. Decker, the cowering one left, was still pressed close to the ground, his eyes wide with horror. Ghost drew one last time nailing him between the collar bone. He had never killed before, but it wasn't jolting any sort of guilt into him. They deserved it. And.... this felt right, this is what had been missing all those years of training.
He wasn't sure how long he was standing there looking over the slaughter he had just inflicted, but he heard his name in a soft voice. Snatching another arrow and spinning, ready to fire, Ghost saw the concerned look on his Father's face. He was ashen and clearly frightened. Ghost dropped the weapon immediately suddenly struck with the realization he almost harmed his own blood.
"Dad," he whispered, "I did this..."
Ore Willow nodded slowly, his eyes drifting over Ghost and above him. Ghost followed his Father's gaze, starting from surprise. Behind him stretched smokey purple, boney, webbed wings, easily touching the canopy.
"Am I cursed?!" Ghost yelped. Those wings looked so ominous. So dark. So evil.
"Of course not." Ore Willow replied, not sounding sure himself. "Come, Ghost, let's walk a bit further into the forest."
Two and a half years later it was still the single most frightening moment of his life. He understood it all now. Who he was, and how he came to be. His parents had known it was coming. Those visitors his Mom frequently had were waiting for him to take his second breath. The money his family had come into was The Cult's way of keeping him close so they could keep him safe. The ones that disappeared from her employment were others like him, Ghost would have liked to know that before. Before he went through his exaltation. But even knowing it wouldn't have changed matters. It needed to happen, as his Father had told him. It would have happened no matter how prepared they were for the change to come.
He had learned many things since then. Many things had come from both The Cult of the Illuminated and his own discoveries of the new power he had. Ghost still lived his life close to his family. Nexus was a big city he could still get lost in. But now he was known, and not just as the son of Ore Willow, but as an expert Thief Taker. He chose not to openly walk as a Shining One, preferring to keep it known only to those who had known all along. He had his own small apartment. He frequented Saffron's work to watch for any new faces trickling through, faces he might eventually be drawn to in a manner of kinship. And he kept an eye on Starfall, worrying one day she might be in his shoes. They said he shouldn't worry, that it was unlikely, but Ghost wouldn't wish that day to be a part of anyone's life. He was a son. A Thief Taker. A brother. An Exalted.
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