Lich and Cassie walked side by side through the hushed grandeur of the Night Temple. The temple's obsidian pillars stretched like skeletal fingers toward the sky, casting long shadows under the pale gleam of moonlight.
Lich moved with the unsettling grace of a being untethered from flesh, his dark robes flowing like a whisper behind him. They resembled the garb of a priest from some forgotten, unholy cult—perhaps a heretical sorcerer who had long since turned from light to embrace the forbidden.
Cassie, graceful and poised, walked with arms crossed, her every movement laced with subtle irritation. Lich's habitual condescension grated on her nerves, especially when it came to Klaus. The way he spoke of him—like Klaus was some blundering fool with the intellect of a penguin—was baffling.
"Isn't Klaus your master?" she asked at last, her arms folded as she walked with poised elegance. Her voice was calm but with hint of inquisitive tone and her eyes glinted with sharp curiosity. "How come he doesn't punish you for... what's the word he always uses? Ah—trash-talking. Yes, that."
Lich turned toward her, his skull tilting in that peculiar, owl-like motion of his. He gave a skeletal shrug, the gesture oddly casual despite his lack of flesh.
"Klaus may be our creator," he replied, "but we are not his thralls. We are not Shadows, nor Reflections. We were not born with the help of Spell or beings that already existed. Klaus created us through sheer force of will, by his own hand. A feat thought impossible… yet here I am."
He paused for a moment, as though weighing the weight of what he was about to say.
"Spirits retain the memories of their previous lives. Our knowledge, our experiences—all intact. We gain self-awareness and a voice of our own. And unlike shadows or reflections, we can draw in spirit essence directly from nature, much like Transcendents do."
A flicker of pride tinged his hollow voice, though it remained eerily echoing and hollow.
"I, of course, am a Transcendent. I do not need to rely on that. But as a spirit, even my absorption rate is amplified. Twice the efficiency. That ability is exclusive to us."
Cassie absorbed the information in silence, nodding slowly. A glimmer of wonder danced across her expression—until her eyes suddenly widened, disbelief crashing through her.
"Wait... you're saying Klaus created you? Created all of you?"
Lich nodded solemnly, mimicking a sigh despite his lack of lungs.
"Yes. He is the progenitor of our species. The Father of Spirits, if you will. What he achieved is nothing short of miraculous—and utterly impossible by mortal standards. The act of creating life is the domain of gods. Even Nether took centuries to create a single species. Stone Saints were his work. Your friend, Sunless, turned one of them into a Shadow."
He glanced forward, amusement flickering in the gleam of his hollow eyes as if recalling some distant, private joke.
"But Klaus? He did it alone. Without Spell's help. He forged us from nothing."
He tilted his skull again.
"And then there is his Spirit Sea. Not like a regular soul sea—no, Klaus has something entirely different. Klaus possess vast Spirit Sea, and instead of soul cores, he has spirit cores."
Lich's voice grew distant, almost reverent.
"His sea is a realm in itself—a paradox made manifest. There is no land. No sky. No wind. No solid foundation. And yet, it is everything. It sings with the silence of the cosmos. Cold. Unfeeling. Beautiful and terrifying all at once. A realm of ancient laws and cosmic symphony... When we dwell within it, we grow stronger. It is our sanctuary. Our battlefield. Our home."
Cassie's awe was evident now, though it mingled with a visible unease.
"But... why are you telling me all of this?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "Aren't you afraid I might use it against him?"
Lich chuckled—a dry, hollow sound that echoed unnervingly in the quiet temple.
"Use it against him?" he echoed, as if the idea were both comical and pathetic. "And what, pray tell, do you hope to accomplish by angering him?"
He turned his skull to meet her eyes fully.
"If Klaus ever deems someone a threat—even a friend—he won't hesitate. He doesn't compromise. That is the price of betrayal."
A sharp grin crept into his voice.
"Besides… do you think you could kill him? Or maybe Mordret? Sunless? Changing Star, perhaps? Let me be clear—none of them can defeat him. He stands at the pinnacle. There is no one of equal rank who can match him. Klaus is... Strongest. That is not arrogance. It is fact."
Lich waved a hand dismissively.
"Anyway, this is no great secret. I've only shared with you the most basic truths about us—the spirits. Nothing classified. Besides," he added, his tone softening just a touch, "I can feel it. He wants you to understand. He's not one to speak of himself, but you matter to him. Eventually, you would've uncovered the truth on your own."
He tilted his head once more.
"Shall I continue? It is a rather fascinating subject. I am the second of our kind, after all. Hemera was the first."
Cassie hesitated... then nodded. The curiosity within her had taken root. This was a power far beyond what she'd imagined—a mystery she couldn't resist unraveling. And yet, the more she learned, the more dreadful the image of Klaus became.
"Yes," she said softly. "Please, continue."
Lich's tone grew more formal.
"Spirits are nearly indestructible. Not in the physical sense, but in essence. We are beings of awareness, comprehension. We feel sins. We sense corruption. We are drawn to the cursed and the forbidden—whether it's knowledge, places, or relics. We flourish in what others flee."
He folded his skeletal hands behind his back as he walked.
"We do not tire. We remember. Our affinity with the taboo makes us attuned to things most would never perceive. And with each experience, each exposure, we grow in our own way. Each of us have different paths."
Cassie tried to remain composed, but her mind swirled with thoughts. Each "basic" ability Lich listed carried terrifying implications.
To sense sin? That meant a spirit could assess a person's true nature.
To detect corruption? A built-in radar for Nightmare Creatures and sources of corruption.
Awareness and understanding? That likely meant far more than mere intelligence. understanding—could that mean heightened perception? Greater memory? The ability to intuit the laws of the world, or the abilities of one's enemies?
And the spirit essence absorption? That was no minor ability. If a spirit was surrounded by its source element—say, Klaus's phoenix spirit in a full of flames and destruction—it could recover injuries and replenish energy with terrifying speed. Even among lower-ranked entities, such a trait would grant an overwhelming advantage. And if the spirit was a Transcendent…
Cassie felt a strange dizziness come over her. The pieces were falling into place, and the portrait they formed was awe-inspiring... and terrifying.
Even their near-indestructibility troubled her. Did it mean they were immune to soul damage? No, perhaps it was more subtle than that. A spirit and a soul weren't the same, after all. And as spirits, they likely lacked a soul altogether. They were essence, refined into something purer. More potent.
She didn't knew lot of things about Spirits or spirit essence but she could guess how important and powerful they were from what Klaus and Lich said and taught her.
She glanced sideways at Lich, who walked in silence now, allowing her to digest it all.
Cassie felt a strange warmth settle in her chest—an inexplicable flutter, like an ember quietly coming to life. Lich had called them "basic traits," those abilities spirits possessed… but to her, they were anything but mundane. Even more touching was the fact that Klaus had wanted her to know them.
Their relationship was... complicated, to say the least. He was… complicated. Unknowable. Where her visions often unraveled people like threadbare books, Klaus remained an enigma. A fault in the pattern. An error in the weave of fate. That alone made him terrifying. Devastating. A walking paradox. But also fascinating.
And despite all that uncertainty, Klaus had always been the one to reach out. Always the one to take the first step. To understand her. To see her.
Cassie may have known Nephis, Sunny, Kai, and Effie far longer. But none of them had ever tried to know her like he had.
She remembered the time he had researched her history, all on his own, just to discover the exact date of her birthday. The moment he stood outside her door, arms full of gifts—some beautifully wrapped, others haphazardly bundled like a child too excited to care for appearances. Her shock, her speechlessness. His small, smug smile. It had been… endearing. No, romantic, even.
She'd grown so used to people becoming transparent to her—laid bare by her Aspect—that Klaus, with all his unknowns, was both a breath of fresh air and a stormcloud of dread.
Even if he sometimes was unsettling. Even if he was disturbing. Even if he was ruthless and cold-blooded...
She still looked forward to seeing him again. To simply be around him. To talk. To walk beside him. To sit in silence and share a meal, or listen to music, or drift aimlessly through the city streets as if time had forgotten them.
She liked watching him train—graceful and merciless. Cook—focused and calm. Paint—quiet, with distant eyes and steady hands. There was something raw and sincere in everything he did. Something... Unique and beautiful.
sigh escaped her lips, but soon, a wicked grin curved them instead. She cast a playful glance at Lich, her tone laced with teasing mischief.
"Well," she began sweetly, "Hmm... So Klaus doesn't mind being insulted, apparently. But I wonder—what would he do if someone spoke badly about me? Isn't that an interesting question? If Klaus is your king... wouldn't that make me a queen, by default?"
Lich went completely still.
Bones stiffened. His skull tilted, the faintest sound of joints cracking in discomfort echoing in the air. She could feel his unease.
He cleared his throat—or mimicked the sound of it, anyway—and replied carefully.
"…That's a… frightening topic, Lady Cassie. Because, well… you see, there was someone who disrespected Aurora once."
Cassie blinked. "Aurora? Who's that? And what happened?"
"Loki. Another spirit. Like me," Lich answered, trying to sound casual. "And what happened to him… Well, Klaus turned him into spaghetti."
Cassie tilted her head. "Spaghetti?"
Lich let out a sigh of mortal exhaustion that didn't belong to his skeletal frame.
"Do you know of the spaghettification theory?"
Cassie frowned, nodding slowly. "It's the theory about falling into a black hole… right? The body stretches infinitely—like a strand of spaghetti."
"Exactly," Lich said grimly. "We… confirmed it. Loki disrespected Aurora, and Klaus punished him by throwing him into a black hole. Not a real one—one inside his Spirit Sea. But it follows the same laws. Or perhaps laws stranger still."
Cassie stared at him in disbelief.
"One second passed for us," Lich continued, voice soft and eerie. "But for Loki? It might have been centuries. He stretched, screamed, existed in that agonizing state… endlessly. Klaus made sure he wouldn't die. But Loki never spoke of what he saw—what he felt. Afterward… he was never quite the same."
Cassie was stunned. Who does that? Tosses someone into a black hole for speaking ill? Was Klaus insane?
And more importantly… who the hell was Aurora?
She frowned, confusion tightening her brow.
"I've never heard that name before," she murmured. "I know Klaus's family. Isaac, Diego, Noah, Tatiana. He doesn't have parents… So who's Aurora?"
He visibly flinched. His jaw clacked softly as if regretting the slip.
She watched as the realization of what he'd just said crept through his posture like ice... His eye sockets dimmed slightly. He hesitated, then finally spoke—his voice low.
"Aurora was... Klaus's first love."