Wujun did not respond to the voice, but Kentai, who had heard it clearly, turned his head to find the spirit of an old man standing at his side. Surprised, he glanced to the body laying on the ground near the house. Sure enough, it was the same person, only this was obviously his ghost.

“Oh, how ridiculous of me. No matter how I prattle on now, he’ll never—” The shimmering remnant of Goratsu stopped mid-sentence upon noticing he was being looked at. “Can you… see me?” He quirked a bushy eyebrow, appraising the swordsman shrewdly.

Kentai nodded. “And hear you.”

This drew Wujun’s attention. He glanced from the empty space to his friend and back again before understanding dawned on him. “Who’s there?” he asked. “Is it Naizen? What’s he saying?”

“Wait.” Kentai didn’t answer Wujun; he was preoccupied sizing up Goratsu. “You weren’t here before. I would have seen you. What—”

“Tsk! Don’t be paranoid, young man.” Goratsu waved his hand dismissively and, despite being very dead, sniffed at the air. “I was searching the town for the young Master and when I couldn’t find him, I returned here. Just in time to witness a very interesting turn of events…”

Mind racing, Kentai paused to consider what he was hearing. Most spirits didn’t wander away from their bodies so soon after death. It took them time to come to terms with their fate. At least, that had always been his experience in the past. What was different now?

“Aren’t you upset?” he asked, narrowing his gaze suspiciously. “I mean, you realize you’re dead, right?”

“Who are you talking to, Kentai?” Wujun asked again.

He was getting impatient, but the swordsman still wasn’t ready to tell him what was going on. He had to be sure it wasn’t a trick of some sort. Could Naizen have manifested as a ghost and somehow changed his appearance to fool them? He didn’t think that was possible, but then again, it’s not like there were other Tomb Speakers around he could ask. He’d been on his own with this curse since it manifested in his teen years.

Goratsu heaved a sigh, pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, and then explained in a huffy tone. “I am, or was, an old man. Death was inevitable, though I’d have preferred to go peacefully in my sleep…” He smoothed his robes out before continuing. “My first concern has always been for the welfare of the young Master. Though, I will say, the grave has given me a new, more clarified perspective on how I went about protecting him in life…”

“Yeah, maybe you should have loosened the fuck up a bit.” Kentai couldn’t help himself.

“Such abysmal language!” Goratsu looked most displeased. “I see you were the one giving bad habits to my pupil. No doubt you were also the reason he—”

Wujun had reached his limit for waiting. He grabbed Kentai’s shoulder, though not roughly. “I know you’re talking to a ghost! Who is it, Kentai? Tell me, please!” There was longing and desperation in his eyes that belied his desire to say goodbye to his tutor. Given how upset he’d been when he came to the inn that night, it was likely he needed to make amends.

Were it anyone else, Kentai would have denied them. He had gotten involved in the affairs of spirits and seen what happened when they couldn’t be satisfied.

This is different. He’s fresh and he obviously cares about Wujun enough that his own death didn’t deter him from leaving to make sure he was safe.

“It’s Goratsu,” he finally admitted and hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake.

Wujun sucked in a gasped breath, his eyes shimmering with tears. “He’s really… there? Is he okay? Is he angry with me?” Droplets rolled down his round cheeks and he swiped at them irritably. “Master Goratsu, I’m so sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean it. You are…” He choked on a sob. “You were the closest thing I ever had to a father… I could never…”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Kentai gripped his arm, trying to provide some measure of comfort. From the corner of his eye, he watched the old man’s reaction. Goratsu’s expression softened at first, he seemed touched by the admission, but then he brushed it away and became the stoic, stuffy tutor once again.

“Come now, emotional outbursts are unbecoming a young man of your stature.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said it.

Feeling a little awkward, Kentai relayed the message word-for-word and hoped it wouldn’t upset Wujun. He was surprised when, on the contrary, he laughed through the tears and nodded in agreement. He was still crying too much to respond, but there was a definite shift in his mood. This led Kentai to conclude the phrase held a secret, significant meaning for the two of them.

Once he had composed himself, Wujun straightened, patting Kentai’s hand. “Thank you. I feel a little better now,” he assured them both. “There’s just one more thing I have to do…” With that, he set his jaw in determination and headed back to the house, specifically to Goratsu’s body.

If Kentai had to guess, Wujun was going to move it so the flames would consume it as well. This way, if Tzulan’s men returned, they wouldn’t be able to defile his tutor’s remains any further.

Kentai made to help, but Goratsu’s solemn voice stopped him.

“You there, Kentai was your name, yes?” He fixed a stern gaze on the swordsman, who merely nodded in reply, once again suspicious.

“I saw your bit of magic as well, so I can deduce that you are a metal Zosara. How the young Master became involved with you, I am not sure and at this stage it isn’t important.” He waved his hand as though shooing away a fly. “Listen closely, for I say this to you now only because you were willing to risk harm, possibly even death, for Wujun. He needs a protector, a true protector, and I believe you are fated to fulfill that role in his life now.”

Kentai opened his mouth to protest. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny, and he wasn’t about to swear any oaths to a ghost based on such nonsense either. He would look after Wujun because he cared for him, not because he was obligated to.

“Hush, young man, until I am finished,” Goratsu scolded, cutting off his objections. “Now, where was I…? Oh yes!” He cleared his throat and continued. “I have come by a great deal of knowledge in my life, some of which my employers consider forbidden and therefore it has not been taught to the young Master. However, now that I’m beyond their control, and given what I witnessed here tonight, I have no qualms—”

“Just get fucking on with it, old man!” Kentai snapped, his patience wearing thin. He didn’t have all night to stand here and listen to a lecture.

Goratsu huffed irritably, folding his arms across his chest and grumbling to himself. After he’d gotten over the audacity and insolence of the interruption, however, he began again. “As I was saying,” he glared challengingly at the swordsman for a second, “I have heard and read a little about void Zosara, enough to know they are incredibly rare. If Wujun has this power, then it means there is also a chaos Zosara, for the two are eternally bound, their souls shared. I know little more than that, I’m afraid. Records of the last known pair were mostly destroyed after the fall of the Qin Empire. By the Conclave of Zozatai, I might add.” He glared again, as if it were personally Kentai’s fault. “But never mind that—”

He was interrupted again, this time by Soki rejoining them. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and was covered in ash. No doubt she had gone into the burning estate to fetch whatever was inside. This was the least of Kentai’s worries, however, for he suddenly wondered how much Soki knew. Had she been aware of Wujun’s power? Had she seen what he’d done?

“Why are you just standing here?” she snapped, dropping the bag at his feet and then going over to assist Wujun. Not that he needed it, as the young man had already positioned the body and was just setting a stick aflame.

Kentai watched the two interact, though Goratsu’s spirit did not. No doubt to avoid catching a glimpse of his corpse. Most ghosts found the sight unsettling. Soki attempted to stop him from messing with the fire, but Wujun refused to allow her interference. After a brief argument, she relented and stood nearby, sulking.

“Do not trust her…” Goratsu hissed in a soft voice, though there was no need for him to whisper. “She is a Shadow, as I’m sure you’ve learned. I don’t know if she saw Wujun’s display, but if she did… The Circle’s primary goal has always been the eradication of your kind. If he truly is the void Zosara…” He trailed off, not wanting to put the thought into words. There was no need for him to do so; Kentai was already mulling the possibilities over.

“Don’t worry. I’ll look after him.” He found the words rolling off his tongue. Kentai did not make pacts or promises lightly, but in this case, watching as Wujun laid his tutor’s body to rest, he couldn’t help himself. “I swear it to you, here and now. I will protect Wujun to my last breath.”

Goratsu let out a pleased sigh. “Tell him I’m… No, he wouldn’t believe an apology.” He shook his head. “Tell him I said ‘goodbye’.”

The swordsman watched in amazement as something happened he had never seen before; Goratsu’s spirit began to fade. The shimmering form lost its shape, dissipating like mist until there was nothing remaining except empty air. He was still staring at the spot where Goratsu had disappeared when the others rejoined him.

“Is he…” Wujun asked, his voice faint and uncertain.

Kentai put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and smiled. “He’s at peace.”