Rip and tear. It felt like all he did lately. Perhaps he should’ve cherished the time he spent with Izumi more, he thought. Now, it seemed like they rarely saw each other. It’s only gotten worse with the attacks, and he began to detest the repetitive nature of fights. That was a first for him. Since when did he hate fighting? He always loved the thrill. But all he wanted now was to just enjoy what others would consider normal everyday activities.

Red was his favorite color. When he died over and over again all he saw was red, it was the only thing that comforted him. The satisfaction of its shine draped across his victims was delightful too. But red meant more to him than that overtime. It meant himself. It meant him. Izumi. When he saw Izumi all he saw was red. Red in warmth. Red in comfort. Red in lust. Red in love. Who knew a color could hold so much and more. And now, he hated seeing the shine. He wanted to see Izumi.

The static-painted talons dripped crimson, flickering as the drops fell like tears onto the concrete for the duration of his sigh. To make matters worse, his generals and Faelan showed up with distressing news written across their visage. A drink accompanied by a cigarette would be nice right now.

No one seemed to want to tell him the problem, but it had to be done, and so Neio carried the torch initially. “Boss, you’re not gonna like this.”

At first he tried to wipe the blood off onto his clothes, then he figured that just using magic to remove it would be easier. “Cut the theatrics and just tell me. I’m already exhausted as it is.”

“A specter counsel has been called.” Dahlia continues.

“For what?” The specter of despair’s fangs matched his clenched claws in exasperation, causing the group to shrink within themselves. Although they knew he would never take his vexation out on them, the thought still frightened them.

Splitting the burden of the notice wasn’t planned beforehand, but in the moment they figured it would let the group feel at least a slight bit of comradery and comfort, so Faelan took up where Dahlia had left off. “They didn’t say exactly what, but they noted it would be about your recent actions.”

“My recent actions? Hah! Sure alright. As in, if I don’t show up, I’m condemned guilty. Though whatever it is, I suppose they already believe me to be guilty anyways.” He scoffed, a tempest already brewing inside. “I’ll go. You three, stay with Izumi. I have an idea of where this is going to head.”

All it took was a bow of acknowledgment of his request before he immediately set off, a flame already in his step as he walked down his path to judgment.

Nothing irked him more than this room. This bland and madness inducing room. The oval table and its accompanying thirteen chairs. Now the only one that wasn’t filled was his own, for better or for worse he wasn’t sure, though he leaned towards the former. His red and black robe had the same fury in its flow that he had in his stride, chaotically following his movements until he finally seated himself. He was in the eye shot of Barron of all people.

Condemn me then.

“Wraith, the Specter of Despair.” Barron announced immediately, clearly in a mocking fashion. “Late as usual. You clearly care not for the depravity of your own deeds.”

“Or maybe I’m late because you and everyone else always hold these meetings without telling me just to paint me worse than I actually am?” For once, Wraith didn’t sit with his feet on the table, nor did he smoke. Instead, he sat straight up with his arms folded and his fangs as hidden as he could.

“No one could worsen your image more than you have already done by your own hands–!”

“Barron, please just shut up and get on with it.” Adelard interrupted. “If your evidence is so damning then let’s hear it so we can do our job and get on with our day.”

With one last exchanged destructive glare, Barron cleared his throat and calmed himself. “You are under the accusation of overstepping your boundaries as a specter.”

Oh how much did Wraith want to bark back instantaneously, but it would only make it worse. This, he finally understood.

“For the sake of argument, let us say that your murder of Ianthe was justified for now. After all, it was previously determined to be so due to her intrusion of your territory. Though, how do you explain your slaughter in Hodaira? Unclaimed as it may be, you still murdered hundreds.”

A hyperbole. The more Barron spoke, the more Wraith remembered his detest for the man. Their knowledge of the event itself was of no surprise to him; they’re always watching him, waiting for him to step off the path. “They attacked me, I was defending myself.”

“But why were you there?”

Stating that it wasn’t of his concern would only worsen his case, so vague honesty was his decided approach. “A client’s request. I made a deal with a human as specters do to survive.”

“A client requested you to murder spirits that they cannot even see?”

“No, they were looking for something in that town. I had agreed taking into consideration that the town was uninhabited by humans, spirits, and specters alike. They had only shown up sometime after being there to challenge me, as spirits tend to do, which I’m sure you and everyone else are well aware of that.”

It was surprising that Vahan wasn’t joining with Barron to attack him. In fact, he had been silent the entire time, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, there was some fear in his heart for what Vahan could possibly be planning. Thia kept her head low with Madeline holding her hand beside her. Lavina usually never spoke unless necessary, while the others were a mix of too afraid to speak against Wraith and wanting Barron to finish his case so they could persecute the specter already.

“Would this human be perhaps the boy you brought to the ball? Mitsue, as you so coined. But that isn’t his true name now is it?”

With the mention of his name, Wraith had momentarily lost his temper as he rose in a flash and dug his claws into the marble table, creating a deafening screech as they drug across the stone, albeit for the slightest moment. There was no use denying his human origin, again, lies would only defame him more.

Lavina glanced at Wraith in a motion for him to calm himself, He’s trying to get under your skin, control yourself, Wraith.

Letting his claws retreat, he remembered the position he’s in with Lavina’s help. They’re all watching him. Waiting for him to take even the slightest step out of shape.

“Aren’t you assessing my actions? He has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, but he does.”

Almost as though planned, the large double doors flung open with a group of unsettling faces being thrown in before the door shut once more. They were all restrained in some way if their mere presence wasn’t enough for the color to drain from Wraith. Though he had a hunch, he prayed for it to not come to this, but with Barron, of course it will. He’d do anything to take the specter down, no matter how deplorable he has to stoop.

“Izumi!”

His heartfelt cry was enough for Vahan to wince, though not due to its volume, but because he saw in that moment that the man and beast he despised and tried and tried and tried again to end for so long was no longer present. To believe that such a vile creature couldn’t be killed by fire, a blade or even several, bullets, or anything else, but by something as beautifully destructive as love? The only thing that kept the specter in place was his desire, not to save himself, but to save his partner. This, Vahan saw. And now, he knew. The care and devoted affection wasn’t a ploy or an act just for his own selfish benefit. It was real. He could feel their reach for each other from across the room, with him and the other specters in the middle. It made him feel…guilty. Who was he, or they, to deny them? Hearing the boy scream his name, and then his followers the same. It tore him. Because,

It was his fault.

If only he hadn’t planted those ideas in Barron.

This wouldn’t have happened.

“Wraith!”

“Boss!”

Solve the problem the only way you know how.

This repeated in his mind over and over and over and over again. It would just be easier that way.

All these niceties aren’t getting anywhere. They’ve already decided your fate.

No. Calm down. Calm Down.

As much as it destroyed him to do so, Wraith sat back down, trying his hardest not to look at his struggling companions and lover behind Barron.

“Izumi! As you all see, it’s a nice name, no? If only Wraith had the courtesy to tell us sooner.”

“What’s your point Barron?” Lavina started to lose her patience as well, which only ever seemed to happen with matters relating to Wraith in some way. Even she believed Izumi’s inclusion to be too far, but it wasn’t the time to voice such.

“My point is that he lied. To everyone! Bringing a human to a ball occupied by specters and spirits? Insanity! And to make matters worse he covered it up and gifted him a bloodstone!”

“There’s no rule against any of that.” Wraith noted as politely as he could muster, but his frustration could still be heard.

The specter of envy, Rosalind, asked the question on most of their minds. “I’m more concerned about how he can even see us honestly.”

“I’m sure Lavina would care to explain.”

She used to be on good terms with Barron, but now? She wanted just as badly as Wraith to wipe the smug grin off his face. Bitterly, she responded, “In short, he’s a medium. They’re humans that rarely have appeared overtime, but they only appear to a specific spirit or specter that they resonate with in order to fill a hole in their heart. The only difference between them and normal humans is their ability to see all types of our race, shades included.”

“And there you have it. A medium, but a human nonetheless.”

“And like I said, there’s no rule against it.”

“You aren’t understanding your own crime. A lie is a lie, Specter of Despair. Not only did you lie about his origins, but he is also the cause of all the wrong you have done. Ianthe’s death was caused by the meddling of this boy, the slaughter of both Hodaira AND a spirit village, the invasion of Adelard’s territory, and massacre after massacre in your own territory as well! All for a human.”

“B-but didn’t he say he made a deal with him? Wasn’t he just doing his part of the contract…” Madeline tried to see the possible good in all the accusations being thrown at the man.

“Precisely! Tell us, what was the deal then, Wraith? What did you grant this human in return for his soul?”

Wraith hesitated to answer, already knowing how Barron would twist his words. “In return for not his soul, but to learn his purpose as a medium, I gave him permission to ask whatever he wanted of me and that he would be under my protection.”

“Do you hear how BENIGN that is?! You would give a human power over you for not even the cost of their own life! You are a SPECTER, and the most powerful one at that. You essentially gave an infant a firearm!”

The murmurs across the hall was all that Wraith needed to hear to solidify that he was fighting a losing battle. They weren’t listening to him. Only to Barron.

“And this is only the least of your insurmountable crimes! Perhaps Thia, the specter of guilt, would be so kind as to elaborate further.”

Everyone was all ears upon Barron’s mention of her name, and especially Vahan, Lavina, and Wraith, who had been trying for months to uncover whatever she possibly knew. They knew, however, if it were to be mentioned at long last here of all places, then it was damning. Damning beyond belief.

The indigo in her hair quivered as rapidly as herself, building to a climax until she finally gathered the courage to speak. With a sudden jolt she burst from her seat and locked eyes with Wraith, and for once, he was the frightened one. Her gem-like eyes glared a passion and anger unbeknownst to the once believed to be soft hearted girl.

Pushing all of her bravo into her voice, she thundered what her ancestors could not. “He caused The Great War! And every specter that died then died by his hands! He murdered and devoured them all! His current form is a guise meant to fool everyone!”

Just as the words left her lips, the specters in the hall ruptured into roaring flames, each one trying to topple the other with their voice. A mirage of questions and exclamations and accusations, directed at not just each other, but at the perpetrator who sat on the far end with his arms still folded. The only ones who remained seated were the same three: Vahan, Lavina, and Wraith. Vahan and Lavina though were subjected to the shadows as the heated beams of light shone upon him. Neio, Dahlia, Faelan, and most of all Izumi were left in a heightened state of confusion. For the spirits, their loyalty to the man or creature was questioned for the first time since they bent their knee. If he caused the war, didn’t that also mean he caused their strife which led to their eventual union with him? No. They shamed themselves for their doubt. And although Izumi didn’t question his love or loyalty, he did in fact question what it would mean for them.

Chaos in the hall would not solve their problems. Barron felt himself more prideful than ever. The being he has detested for centuries was finally being backed against a wall.

But what’s more dangerous than a wild dog?

A cornered one.

He spoke above the crowd in order to continue the already decided trial, and so they were quiet, awaiting another chance to strike again. “Lavina! You are the specter of knowledge are you not?! Tell us! How was The Great War started in your records!”

Lavina didn’t want to answer the question. She knew it would only worsen Wraith’s case, but not answering it at all would only do the same thing.

“....A specter had been found in pieces of unknown causes or origin, most of their body missing. As the murderer couldn’t be determined, they began to accuse one another until it led to a full scale war.”

“And how were the specters felled during the war?!”

“.....” She didn’t want to look at Wraith. No matter what bad blood they had between each other, she did truly care about him. Even now. She’ll never forget their moments together, all those centuries ago. He did always have an amazing smile.

“Of unknown causation as many had suffered the same fate. Either no body was found, or only pieces. This led people to believe they were consumed but with no knowledge as to whom. Some denoted seeing a large black creature that couldn’t be made out, as in the chaos of battle, it’s hard to get a clear recount of every detail.”

“And what do we know of the Specter of Despair during that time?”

“....Not many had seen them long enough to pinpoint a description, but they were rumored to be a sizable creature.”

“Sounds familiar, does it not?! And then this man shows up after the war! The only two specters alive following the war's end were none other than Lavina and Wraith! Lavina is the only specter who makes sense due to her neutrality, but what of this Wraith? The Specter of Despair? The same Specter of Despair who prior to the war’s end no one knew a description of! Other than they were a massive shadowy beast, the same description of the theorized murderer of the previous specters! Of all of your ancestors before you!! How else would he gain such strength that he has now?!! Ianthe didn’t try to invade his territory out of benign ignorance, she was sending a warning! To all of us! That this man before you– before us all– is here to destroy us! To destroy and control the balance that we have built!! What say you to this, Specter of Despair?!!!”

The thorns on his crimson robe rustled, itching for the ichor of another on its vines. On occasion he would glance at the desperation in his lover’s eyes, remembering who he is now. But it was difficult. He didn’t look at Izumi any longer. Perhaps just this once, he thought. He could remember his old days. It would be easier that way.

Wraith flung his arms forward in a villainous fashion with not a hint of regret or guilt in his mismatched eyes and a wicked, maniacal smile stretched across his face. “Oh well you’ll have to arrest me officer. What do you think I’m going to say? Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, Isn’t that right Barron? Yes, I started the war, I Killed all of those Specters, and you know what? I’m That creature you All So fear Too.” In the middle of his sentence, his voice began to change into an unsettling ring as his robe scorched and seeped into his skin, changing his form. “What Do You All like to Say? A Monster?”

An unimaginable convulsion drove the room into a plunder, launching Barron into the depths of his seat as a shadow cast over them all. Insurmountable, charcoal, static. Mouths and limbs that one could spend a lifetime counting. Jaws stretched back to reveal hundreds of teeth and bone. The most miniscule semblance of a disformed hound could be made out if one strained an eye. Rubble rained from the ceiling, dislocating from its futile attempt to contain it.

The Specter of Despair.

Vahan laughed at himself for the foolish thought of thinking he could ever overcome his so-called rival. No wonder why he always openly mocked him.

“Then Why Don’t You Tell Me, Oh Specter Of Regret, What Is Stopping Me From Killing You All Again?”

Barron had to continue the trial, if it could even be called that now. Now, every word he spoke determined the fate of the specters in the room. It was an open prairie, and he was the quarry.

“Y-your lover! You would not want them to see such a sight–!”

“Oh Please. They Have Seen Me Kill Time And Time Again. It Is Not A Picture I Enjoy Painting, But If It Silences You Forever, I Will. And Pray Tell What Will You Do If I Kneel? Kill Me? Should We Allow Executions, How Do You Think The Balance You Care For Will Change?”

The specters looked between each other. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, he was right in every capacity. Without Wraith, disorder will ensue. The fear rogue spirits had for him was the only thing keeping them in check. Other than that, they had no reason to abide by the laws that the specters set. Even before The War, it was a fight for survival. Lavina changed that, but it was only possible because of him. Wraith. They began to slowly realize this. They knew removing him wouldn’t be easy, but they didn’t believe it to be nearly impossible.

That was the best card Barron had, and now, he wasn’t sure what to do. If Vahan was in his place instead, he’d surely have thought of this outcome, but Barron didn’t. And now he was faced with his soul on his tongue.

Vahan.

For the first time since he had arrived, he spoke. And he spoke words and phrases that one would never believe to come from him. If he were to remain silent any longer, Barron would surely talk them all into becoming a mere memory. Mutilated and left within the depths of the Specter of Despair.

“This council can beg and plead for the specter–Wraith’s–removal, but it is a fictional task. Yes, every member and individual here can agree that The Great War was and still is one of the greatest tragedies that has ever befallen our race. But without it, we would have never grown out of our old barbaric and bloodthirsty ways. The only reason that you can all sit here today without a fear of another overthrowing you is because of him, whether you would like to believe that fact or not. Since Barron and the rest of you deem Lavina’s word to be truthful, tell us the average lifespan of a spirit or specter before The War.”

With the tides turning in their favor, Lavina was more than happy to answer. “Spirits would live no more than the average human being at the time, while specters no more than a century and a half.”

“Excluding the specter of guilt, all of you here can say that you’ve lived at least double that amount, and your followers more than the same. Marriage and children and a peaceful life were foreign to us all. The only way that our race ever learns is through bloodshed, which has only been proven time and time again. Even now, the spirits which attack the man before you won’t step down without a fight. It is in our nature. Without Wraith’s removal of a generation, without the fear that he instilled, we would still be the same as we were both before AND during The War. And after the division of territory afterwards, who has known this man to deliberately invade another? None of you. If any of you were invaded, you would act in the same manner as he. Such are the rules, and the rules that he made and follows which protect everyone here from a recurring of that same tragedy over a millennia ago. And now, you all shame him for being in love with a human? Shame yourselves. You all wouldn’t so much as breathe the same air as a human had it not been for your next meal. If a human can love the man you see now—A HUMAN, the same species that you all only see as fodder—then that should tell you all that he is no longer the same carnivore that you believe him to be.”

A small wave of Vahan’s hand removed the restraints on the group, and without a moment’s hesitation Izumi rushed forward ignoring the screaming pain his wrists voiced from being shackled for so long and embraced what he believed to be the neck of Wraith’s true form. Through the warmth of his hand, he caressed and quelled the same specter that the rest couldn’t so much as bear to look at, let alone be in the same presence with.

Softly, Izumi whispered a statement only audible enough for Wraith to hear. “It’s alright Wraith. I’m fine and so are the others, and you’ll be fine too.”

The council witnessed something they couldn’t even fantasize.

Did his eyes and voice…quiver? In this form?

“Izumi…Do You Not…–?”

“Do you remember what I told you? I don’t care how you look, you’re still my Wraith.” Consoling mint and starry eyes demolished the loathing and vengeance in his heart and so,

He returned to normal.

A hooded red robe trimmed with black fur and a design of thorns and vines. Wavy ombre hair, the same black fading into the same red. An amber left eye, and a sapphire right. Slacks, dark teal belts, and a lighter teal dress shirt that he always left slightly open to bring it all together. And most of all, his uniquely cocky yet soul-stirring smile.

“Izumi…I could almost cry, it feels great to hold you again…”

“Well, I’m here now aren’t I? I’ll always be here.” He returned the affectionate smile, holding Wraith even tighter than before. “And don’t forget that.”

“How could I when you’re about to break my bones trying to make a point?”

“Says the guy who could snap my arm in two on accident.”

Together, they forgot about their surroundings and only acknowledged one another. Every shared instant they cherished.

But the trial wasn’t over. At least not to Barron, who– with the disappearance of Wraith’s true form– regained a small fraction of his confidence.

“If a human that you all deem as delicate repast can accept Wraith in his true form, something that none of you would even think to attempt, then does not attest to his character now?”

“Then what do you suggest Vahan?! That he goes unpunished for his actions?!”

“And what punishment would you suggest, being that you are so keen on it? You cannot kill him, nor remove him from his position as you would so desire.”

Barron remains silent, glaring and clenching his nails into his fists all the meanwhile.

Vahan expected his speechlessness, and so he continues without too long of a pause. “I have a suggestion then. I agree that regardless of the outcome his actions still caused some form of grief and deserves some form of punishment. So, I have a proposition that will appease you all, including those who desire to see him dethroned and his head off his shoulders. For his punishment, he will tell us if there is a means to end his life, and if there is not, he will make it so. This shouldn’t be a tall task, considering his strength in the magical arts. Not only that, but it will give you all who wish to see him dead a way of doing so. To everyone here, he cannot be killed. Would knowing how not make you in some respect pleased? If you’d like to kill him so, you’ll finally know how and you can take matters into your own hands if you so dare.”

Some of the specters glance at each other and mumble their thoughts, slowly nodding into a uniform agreement. Yet Barron was still keen on trying to find a flaw in his argument.

“And even if we knew how to end his life, no one has ever been able to win a battle against him to date! How would this knowledge help us?!”

“You would know it’s possible, your objective would seem closer in reach than it is now, believing he’s immortal, this you cannot deny. Why should a textbook way of how to go about murdering him be included? Would that not make everyone scramble to do so and only cause more chaos? In such a case, it would result in the same thing as just executing him here and now.”

The click of the specter of regret’s tongue echoed in the now open room. Now, they were all against him. He had lost.

Noting Barron’s regression, Vahan knew he could finally conclude. “For those who agree on the aforementioned, that Wraith the Specter of Despair will reveal a means for his life to cease if one wishes to pursue it, as punishment for the crimes that he has wrought in the past and to date, raise your palm.”

Lavina was the first to throw her hand in the air after Vahan, followed by Madeline, Adelard, Rosalind, and slowly many more. Until finally, Thia agreed. And reluctantly, Barron who looked away from the council in shame and defeat.

“A unanimous agreement. Then it is decided.” Vahan smiled, welcoming Wraith’s presence with a nod in his direction.

“If you would do us the pleasure then, Wraith?”

Through his grasp on Izumi's hand he held in a relieved sigh. Vahan of all people saved him. In truth, he was ready to kill them all if he had to if it meant protecting Izumi, but because of Vahan, he was able to get through it without any bloodshed. He saved him. He saved Izumi. The same Vahan that would try over and over again to kill him years ago.

Wraith chuckled to himself and began, “So…”