Legacy's Ghost

Episode 17: Change of Plans

The Ghost's gloved hand grips an overhead branch, and his body sways in the wind where he stands in the open window of the Monastery watching me.

At this height, strong gusts of wind are not uncommon. Luckily, where I stand, the leaves and other branches protect me from most of it.

The Ghost is covered in the usual Ghost attire—the same thing I'd be expected to wear if I progress to the next level—dark robe with some sort of cloaking technology that keeps a person from seeing their face, gloves, and boots.

Not a single inch of the Ghost's body is visible. I've been told this is so outside forces cannot identify the Ghost and blackmail them or get the Ghost to sway a decision by compromising the Ghost's family.

For me, being a Ghost would provide the first sliver of anonymity I'd ever have since being born. A chance for the world to see me as me instead of some albino orphan worthy of nothing but ridicule and hatred.

When I say nothing to the Ghost, he says in an bland tone, "Why yes, I'd love to sit down, thank you."

He hops from the window's ledge to the tree, strolls along the thick branch toward me, and sits facing me, his legs crossed.

I stare at him, unable to come up with a single articulate comment. He has quite literally been a Ghost around the monastery. He's like a whisper on the wind. I'll see him out of the corner of my eye, or see the edge of his cloak as I turn a corner, but I've never seen him stationary, and until this week, I've never seen him speaking to anyone except for Edmond.

Now, here he is, on my branch, sitting across from me, treating me almost like we're friends.

"H-how did you know I was out here?" I ask.

"I followed you."

I stare at him, waiting for him to explain but he sits quiet and motionless, making me want to fidget with nervousness.

"Why did you follow me?" I finally ask.

"I was in your room when Rigel attacked—"

"You were in my room? Where? Why?"

"The where's and the why's don't matter."

Uneasiness creeps into my bones. He was in my room while I was sleeping. Doing what? He was there when I was attacked, but he didn't intervene. Why?

"Then why are you here?" I ask.

"I... wanted to make sure... you weren't hurt." He looks away, and picks a sequoia needle from a branch. The needle is about as thick as his finger, and as long as his forearm.

I rub a spot on my face where Rigel had landed a solid punch, then I shake my head. "I may have some bruises, but I'll be okay. He's not the first person to bully me." I bite my lip and glance at the Ghost. "Is Rigel okay?"

The Ghost's hood tilts upward as if he's look at me. "He'll be fine. He'll have a mighty big headache and a bruised ego, but other than that, he's no worse for he wear."

I nod and gnaw on my lower lip. I'm going to have to stay out of his way for a while and hope he doesn't hold grudges. The odds aren't in my favor.

The Ghost clears his throat, drawing my attention. "Next week is the end of school for the season. It's expected that each person goes back to their home unit and learn more about the people and the lifestyle they are to represent."

"If I'm a ghoul, where do I go?" I ask.

"Normally, ghouls go to one of the PPN or LA's units so they can be more empathetic about the lifestyles and individuals they might potentially be overseeing" he says. The Ghost holds up a finger. "But I'm making an exception. You'll be apprenticing with me."

If I hadn't been more than a hundred feet in the air, and the log I was sitting on wider than a typical seat, I probably would have fallen out of this tree from surprise.

From what I understood, apprentices were unheard of. Normally they would meet their respective Trinity

after they graduated from the monastery, which could be as many as six years after moving in, and only after they were officially chosen as their mentor's successor.

I'd been here DAYS. There are still three other ghouls in training.

"Why?" I ask, shaking my head.

"You have what it takes."

I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn't say anything else. We sit in silence for several seconds. It looks like he's watching me, but with his hood shrouded in darkness, it's hard to tell.

"Okay then," I finally say, breaking our silence. "Do I tell Mr. Francois, or Edmond or... ?"

"I'll take care of it."

Several more minutes of silence. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something that will get me thrown off the tree. But when a solid ten minutes pass and we're still staring at each other, I clear my throat. "Do I meet you at the front door next week? Should I bring anything special?"

The Ghost stands and dusts off his robe. "No. We leave tonight. I will meet you at your room in ten minutes."

Then he walks back along the thick branch, retracing his steps, and leaps from the tree to the ledge, seemingly oblivious to the wind. His grasp of the ledge is sure, and he walks along the edge of the exterior wooden beams as if he's walking down a sidewalk. He opens the window and climbs inside, then steps into the interior hallway and strides out of sight, never looking back.

I stared at him, open-mouthed. Did that just happen? Don't I need to tell someone I'm leaving?

Edmond? Trina? Oliver? Someone?

Below me, the bioluminescent shrubs seem to be dulling, signaling that sunrise is about to occur.

I shimmy over the branch, feeling the wind whip my hair more forcefully the closer I get to the ledge. Gripping the ledge with both hands, I shuffle my feet against the gusts of wind until I reach the window, take a deep breath, and let go with one hand, yanking on the glass with the other, and nearly jumping inside before a gust blows me off balance.

Once on solid ground, I stand, take a deep breath, and wait for my hammering heart to slow. I look left and then right.

Left takes me to Edmond's room. Right takes me to my room. I have seven minutes to pack whatever I need, and it takes at least three minutes to walk to my room from here. If I talk to Edmond, I'll be late for the Ghost. Will he wait for me?

I gnaw on my lip.

I'm not willing to risk it.

I bolt to the right, running as fast as I can. I am going to be ready for the Ghost when he steps foot in my door, even if it kills me.