Our blades connected, again and again, I slapped her furious strikes away with the pommel of my sword. It still was a one-sided affair, for Zora would dart in and out of my range with blinding speed, disorienting screams, and enough sense between her ears to retreat before I could bring the full might of Kingsbane to bear against her.

She was fast and slippery, then again, so was I. Faster and faster we danced, until nothing but instinct took over. Blood trickled down my brow, mixing with sweat, tasting like salt and iron once it reached my mouth. A few other trickles of warmth were searching their way down my back and my arms, where her ghostly blades had cut right through the steel I wore to protect me.

The rune of strife on the base of Kingsbane‘s blade began to glow in defiance, fed and nourished by my pain and the blood I was losing.

I did not dare to protect myself with [Stonehide], lest the speed I would lose with the layer of stone around my body would spell my doom, in the end.

No, this was a battle that would be decided by speed and speed alone, and a single decisive strike, for every hundred, that Zora would cut into my chest.

I was too stubborn to let a thousand cuts be my end.

[I am ready! Just touch her and start! -L] The little blue window with the message from Lily danced in front of my face as I dodged and tumbled, and I barely had the presence of mind to understand what she was saying amidst the intensity of the fight.

“How am I supposed to touch a ghost?“ I yelled in frustration.

Zora‘s face grimaced into a proud and victorious snarl as she heard my words, advancing with renewed fury, sure in her superiority.

[You can‘t. Kingsbane can! -L.]

That was it, wasn‘t it? Such a simple trick, such a straightforward strategy. All I needed to do was...bleed.

I changed up my approach, went after the banshee as if I meant it. Kingsbane painted afterimages of black slashes across the background of white salt and colorful flowers as I swung the blade wide, driving the banshee back, opening up myself for counterattacks, if she just took the heart to seize the opportunity.

I screamed wordlessly, as the pain finally got to me, the hundredth slash across my shins the one to break my composure. Around and around the banshee whirled, just a breath in the air. This was not just Zora, the [Swordswoman] and [Mistwalker Squire] I had known and learned to trust. That woman had been better with a sword than I had been. But she was not using a sword now, was she?

Now, she was a force of nature, vengeance incarnate, a harbinger of pain. She was untouchable, and all she did was play with her prey until she had it whittled down by countless wounds and the realization that fighting had been futile, all along.

She emerged out of the stone behind me, announcing her assault with a mighty scream, disorienting me once more, pressing me down to my knee, before her daggers sank into the flesh between my shoulder blades with a sickening sound.

Only this time, Kingsbane had enough.

In blazing fire, the rune of strife activated, satisfied with the amount of blood sacrificed to its might. For a moment the land was dyed in blue light, washing over all of it, taking my pain and my tiredness with it.

[Seven Seconds of Supremacy]. I flipped around and this time...this time I was faster than the ghost.

One. Kingsbane flickered through the air, like a snake wrought of black metal, biting the neck of Zora with just a light touch. A light touch that hurt the ghost.

Ephemeral blood...or whatever else the ghost was made of, followed the movement of my blade in a perfect arc.

Two. Zora recoiled, eyes widening in the realization that she had been wounded. I followed her step for step.

Three. I drew Kingsbane back beside my head, readying the sword. Upon seeing that I could follow her with ease, Zora stopped retreating and dove into the rock below our feet again.

Four. I felt the vibrating power of Kingsbane in my hand. Just a length of black steel, but forged with purpose and wielded with intent. The sword that could cut anything, if you swung it just right. I exhaled. And I saw the angle.

Five. The banshee disappeared, feet first into the ground. Just now, the rest of her head sank out of sight. It did not matter.

Six. Kingsbane cut the air as my muscles exploded into force and violence. The black blade bit into the rock and cleaved it in twain in one smooth motion, completely soundless, stopping at the end of its arc. I struggled to stop the blade. My arms almost snapped.

Seven. With sheer panic on her face, Zora stared at me, Kingsbane sitting in the middle of her abdomen, having cut through stone and ghost alike. I pushed the blade higher towards her chest, turning it. I exhaled.

The blue light faded and with it the calm and silence went, leaving me with pain and rasping breaths and a wordless scream of Simue who crumbled at the edge of my field of vision. Already, the ghost began to slip off my blade, but I was not done yet.

Kingsbane was my blade. A true extension of myself, maybe for the first time ever. I was one with the blade and as such...what the blade touched I was touching. I channeled Essence through the sword, into the almost cut apart body of Zora.

“You are mine.“ I snarled. “How does it feel? To be on the other side of it?“ More and more Essence flooded the ghost, so much that I feared to run out of stored Essence, hard-earned the day before while hunting the wyrms.

I had realized one simple fact. The core of her, her very being, was a soul. Kept around by the Skills of Simue, alright, but a soul of Ravenport nonetheless. And as such, she was mine if I just could lay claim to her.

But I wanted more. I forced enough of Essence into her that her eyes rolled back and it dawned on her that she was leveling up. The usual pleasure upon receiving the notification was replaced by sheer shock. She was my Chosen, now.

Immediately, some form of color returned to her, her ephemeral body mending under the stream of Essence that washed over her. Her hunger, her desire to feed was sated, for the first time in her afterlife, I reckoned. And with the hunger...some of her insanity went.

I got up, groaning as my arms ached with every motion, stressed and strained beyond belief under the force of the cut I had made them perform.

Simue slid across the stone to the side of Zora, hands helplessly not finding anything to touch or hold, grasping cold stone instead. Zora still looked a mess, more now that she had some color to her and the split body actually looked like a split human and not just some floating ghost stuff.

“I will be fine, love.“ Zora whispered. “You are too cute to not come back to.“

Simue still was shaking and crying wordless tears as I took a moment to read the notfication Lily had sent me in the last moments of the battle, just as I had been caught in the power of the rune of strife.

[You did it! Now you should have a very stable connection to her. Working with souls is difficult if you want to conserve them. You should not try to do anything with her. But I need you to use your connection to reverse the flow of Essence. Usually, you get part of the Essence your chosen collect. That would only make it worse. You need to feed her. Only Essence can still the hunger of a ghost.]

Under the guidance of the little wisp, I felt along the new tendril I could sense within my heart, glancing at the endless void and cold that was in the core of Zora. Feeding her a constant trickle of Essence would warm her up, satisfy her hunger....maybe end the torment she inflicted upon my friend Simue.

I created the connection, giving her 3 Essence per day, just to be on the safe side. It was a lot, as it would continue every day, but by now the Essence trickling in through my chosen and the believers of Ravenport far surpassed the expense. I still was in the positives.

By the time we were comfortable speaking again, Zora had disappeared. I still could feel the trickle of Essence and the faint connection to the ghost, but she just was not in the same...reality as me.

It is an egg. Simue wrote. Zora says that no water even touches the chamber. It is burned to steam long before that. It's that hot. The egg is chained to the ground with a glowing net.

“And the steam?“ I asked, trying to imagine a chamber so hot, no water had a chance to touch its floor.

Rises up in a giant column. She can't leave my side for too long, so she does not know where the chimney leads. Up and away somewhere south.

“Well, we surely would have noticed a steady column of steam rising up on the surface by now. I reckon it will lead to something else underground.“

What do we do with the egg?

“Well. We will try to communicate. We cannot unchain it, but maybe the being will take my oath of assistance in exchange for the key? I don‘t know.“

We fell silent for a while, as we thought about the steps we needed to take now, to come near our goals. Zora could bring a message to the egg, if it was even capable of thought, not to speak of hearing words. Then we could take the key and wait for Thimotheus to help us unbind the being? Maybe?

Simue studied me for a while, then finally sighed and wrote something down.

Thank you, Hannibal. For what you have done. Zora is much more herself, lately. I don‘t know how or why, but thank you.

“I did it for you. Watching your torment was unbearable.“ I started to speak, but she raised a finger to stop me, continuing to write.

But. The word hung on the page for a second or two. What a dreadful, little word.

I asked you not to. I begged you not to. It worked out fine, but you disrespected my wishes. Endangered the love of my life, whatever state she might have been in. It was not your right. As a godling, maybe. As a ruler, maybe. As a friend? Not so much. She stopped, searched for something in my eyes without finding it.

I don‘t know if I can forgive you yet. She wrote, wandering off to get some space, leaving her notebook and her words behind.

They burned in my eyes. How dare she? Had I not done everything to protect her? And even her psychopathic remnant of a lover? Where is the gratitude I deserved? I even was spending Essence every day for her and...she questions if she will be able to forgive me? The audacity...the ...the...

A handful of stone crumbled under the force of my grip. I stared at the pieces, crumbling to the ground like flakes of dust.

[Come home.] Lily wrote and I closed my eyes, having difficulties to find the peace I needed for meditation.