Lady Sword-Son

One moment Ghostdog is jesting with the unscrupulous merchant, the next he is sprinting past him along the length of the vine covered temple wall. I gape at him with the others, turning to follow his progress as I hear a man cry out. My cousin is falling to the ground and I am racing after Ghostdog, my younger brother well ahead of us both as he darts through a gap in the wall and enters the ruined temple.

My leather boots give me good purchase as I reach my dark haired squire, whose blood is leaking through the fingers of the hands he holds to his skull as he writhes upon the ground. My senior squire is behind me and Grandfather as well, who calls out, “I will take care of him. Go after your brother and keep him from doing something foolish.” I nod at Grandfather and take off running, my senior squire at my side.

By now the commotion has attracted attention from the camp, and several of my retainers, most with their armor off, are beginning to hurry over. I ignore them as I reach the gap in the wall. Moonlight streaming through the arches and absent roof give a better light than torches, and at the far side I see my little brother reach out and grasp one of the branches of the grey tree. 

He disappears. My squire and I both slow but Ghostdog keeps running, his form growing ghostly as he draws his black-bladed katana and leaps upon the white stone block near the back of the structure. He swings at something, his movements becoming swifter as he fades, then vanishes altogether.

I stop in the center of the ruin with my squire beside me. Both side walls and the rear of the ruined building are still intact, the sides open archways letting leaves blow in onto the floor covered in a faded mosaic pattern, while the rear is more solid, its empty windows arches as well. I am going to kill Little Brother for trying to escape like this; I do not like this Ghostdog, and do not wish to be beholden to him for bringing back…

Like bolts from a crossbow my brother and Ghostdog are running towards me, with a nightmare of grey skin and bone flying after them, a creature resembling a giant bird without feathers whose head is a bony ridge with eyes on either side of the skull, the right one a ruin with a deep gouge in the bone. 

Ghostdog and Little Brother are growing more solid while the nightmare grows ghostly…Ghostdog is lurching, the creature’s claws making his back-plates explode and I am trying to run to them but my squire has my arms so I cannot draw my katana or move…I must do something, I must…Ghostdog has dropped to his knees, clutching at his chest as the winged nightmare’s ghostly claws pass through him…I am too late…Ghostdog raises his head.