Gideon swam in a dark sea, his mind wandering amidst dreams and nightmares. He felt himself being carried like a sack of potatoes. A skeleton flashed across his vision, and an old man's face cackled in a mirror. The face looked familiar, like it could have been Gideon in another hundred years, if he got so lucky. Sadly, it seemed doubtful Gideon would make it that long if his current state was any indication. Soon the dreams became even less coherent as he drifted through shadows, chased by endless waves of spiders.

Sometime later, consciousness returned to him. His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring at a stone ceiling. His muscles ached, especially his leg, where he'd been bitten. He tried to move, but the bed creaked underneath him, and he wasn't strong enough to support his weight. A sharp spring poked him in the back through the thin mattress, and he tried to shift himself to avoid it with great effort.

With a start, he noticed a pale woman sitting by the side of the bed, rocking back and forth in a chair while staring out the window. The sun was low in the sky. It would be night soon. His throat ached with thirst as if he hadn't drank anything in days.

The woman looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. She had pale skin and silvery hair, and wore a ruffled dress that had not been the fashion in a very long time. There was something about her that seemed strange. The orange light of dusk seemed to pass through her as if she was only half there. It made him nervous, but he tried to push that out of his mind. He should be grateful to the people who had saved him from certain death.

"Oh," she said, "You're awake."

Gideon tried to get up again, but his muscles felt weak. The lady shook her head. "I wouldn't recommend that. You should rest. My name is Ondine. Master Kelvan asked me to wait here until you woke up. Unlike the others, I don't mind waiting."

He blinked at her, trying to process the strange things she’d said. Who was Master Kelvan? The letter had said the castle was currently unoccupied.

He must have stared at her too long in confusion, because she raised an eyebrow at him. “What brings you here?” she asked.

“I… I didn’t realize anyone lived here,” Gideon croaked, his throat barely letting the words out.

Ondine laughed, though, for some reason, the sound was strangely high-pitched. “No, dear,” she said. “No one lives here.”

Ah, Gideon thought. Of course. They must be passing through, using the castle as shelter. "Where is he?" Gideon asked. "The noble knight who rescued me?"

"On vacation as of a few hours ago, apparently," Ondine said, and rolled her eyes so far that only their whites were visible. It looked vaguely horrifying, though Gideon tried not to judge. "Noble knight? Pah!"

He smiled nervously. So, the two of them were not friends. He’d better not get involved in whatever feud there was between them. “I, uh, don’t suppose you have any water?” he asked.

Ondine smiled and shook her head. Slowly she rose to her feet and glided around the bed, towards the door.

As Gideon watched her, he tried to sit up again, using his arms for leverage, and this time he managed to rise. His eyes glanced down to his legs as he suddenly remembered the venomous spiders he’d encountered. Was his leg still dying?

"I hate to tell you this, but we had to amputate."

"What?" Gideon shouted, staring at Ondine in shock before grabbing the bed sheet and pulling it away, revealing two intact legs, even if one was bandaged. He breathed a sigh of relief, and the woman began to chuckle.

"Just a bit of dark humor," she said. Her laughter sounded like it was coming from a few different places in the room. Gideon shivered despite himself. "Sorry, dear. I couldn’t help myself. But now that you're up, I'll go fetch Master Kelvan."

And with that, she floated through the door without opening it.

Gideon screamed.

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Gideon had never seen a ghost before, but it was clear that’s what Ondine was. Or, if not exactly a ghost, another kind of supernatural apparition. There were a few options. She might have been a shade, a phantom, or a specter. He had read about the various types in books, which were categorized by their power level and aggressiveness, but he’d never seen one in person.

He tried to calm his heart’s frenzied beating and took a few long, deep breaths. Meditation was part of any wizard’s training. Or wannabe wizard, in his case, he supposed.

He stilled his mind and focused on his breathing until his sense of calm returned to him. Though Ondine might have been a ghost, she hadn’t actually hurt him and seemed friendly enough. So there was no reason to worry.

Or at least, this is what he told himself.

Even more surprising, she still seemed to understand who and where she was. Gideon had read that some ghosts, once their souls had become too degraded, were doomed to act out scenes from their life over and over again, and would behave erratically if they found themselves in new, unexpected situations. But Ondine had been remarkably lucid.

His leg still hurt, but the pain had faded compared to before. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. If he was stuck here with a leg wound, there was no way he would make it back to Prospera City in just four days. His boss would be furious. Gideon wondered if he would be fired for failing to show up to his next scheduled shift.

If he did, how would he afford rent? Or his payments on the loan he’d taken out last year for that magical prep course that had turned out to be a scam?

He fell back in bed again and sighed. This had been his big break, or so he’d hoped. Now it was starting to feel like another disappointment in a life full of them.

The door slammed open, and Gideon screamed once more as a skeleton walked in carrying what appeared to be an easel. Without looking at Gideon, the skeleton unfolded the easel and set it up at the foot of the bed.

This is bad, Gideon thought. Is this entire castle filled with undead? Skeletons were not like ghosts. From what Gideon had read, none of them were friendly.

Gideon had no time to dwell on this, however. A moment later, an ornate mirror floated in through the door. Gideon’s mind could barely process what he was seeing, for in the surface of the mirror, an old man with sunken red eyes, a bald head, and a long, white beard watched Gideon. The man was wearing the robes of a wizard, though they were a deep black with white edges. Not the usual colors. Gideon had no idea what rank they signified. The mirror floated to the easel, then rested on it.

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The skeleton’s jaw rattled, and a raspy man’s voice came out. “Anything else I can do for you, Lord Kelvan?”

“Yes, Grimsby,” the old man in the mirror said. “You can get the polish and have it ready. Clonk mentioned you had kindly offered to perform that duty during his well-earned sabbatical.”

“Ah, yes, I am so very kind,” the skeleton said, in a way that suggested he was none too pleased about the situation.

The old man turned his eyes towards Gideon, and Gideon felt a wave of fear wash over his body. Though he was only a reflection, there was something about the man that was terrifying. Whoever this was in the mirror, he was dangerous. Or at least, he had been.

Now, Gideon had no idea what he was. This was something he had never read about in any of his books. A man who lived in a mirror? Some new type of apparition or soul construct? He was definitely not well read enough to know anything about this.

As if noticing Gideon’s fear, the man blinked slowly and gave a poor imitation of a smile. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Mirrors can’t eat people. Only souls.” As if this was a funny joke, he chuckled, and the skeleton’s jaw rattled in an imitation of laughter.

Gideon opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again without saying anything.

“Ah, I see you’re dumbfounded by my obvious power. Off to a good start. You must be Gideon,” the man said, and Gideon’s eyes widened.

He found he could still only nod dumbly in response. What was going on? “You know my name?”

“Of course I do. Who do you think sent you that letter?”

“Uh… A law firm specializing in old estates?” Gideon said, suddenly feeling like an idiot. He sat up in bed again. The world spun at first before steadying.

“Wait,” the skeleton said from where he was standing next to the mirror. “You knew we were expecting a visitor, Master?” The skeleton paused as if realizing he had spoken out of turn. “Not that I am suggesting you are not fully within your rights to invite guests to your castle.”

“Of course, Grimsby,” the man said. “I told Clonk to expect a visitor and to show them to me when they arrived.”

The skeleton’s jaw fell open and stayed that way. Though he had no eyes, only sockets, and could not make facial expressions, Gideon thought he detected rage in the way the skeleton had stiffened.

The man in the mirror turned back towards Gideon. “Well, my boy, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Kelvan Kastorus, but you may address me as Master Kelvan, Lord Kelvan, Kelvan the Great, or The Wise and Wonderful Archmage Kelvan Kastorus. Any of those is fine.”

“Kelvan Kastorus?” Gideon echoed, staring dumbly at the man in the mirror. “Like the castle?” As soon as he said it, he realized how stupid he sounded, but his brain was still catching up to everything he’d heard, and he still felt woozy from the spider venom.

“Yes, like this castle, the one you are currently in,” Kelvan said, chuckling. Then he looked towards the skeleton. “Grimsby, you did give him the antidote for that venom, right? His mind hasn’t turned to jelly?”

“Of course, I did, Master. I hate to suggest this, but there is the possibility that he is a fool.”

“Hey!” Gideon shouted. “I’m not a—”

But Kelvan waved his hand. “No, no, of course not. Considering you are my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandnephew, a spawn of Kastorus blood, there’s no way you are a fool, idiot, or imbecile. I observed you possess a rudimentary understanding of earth magic, at least.”

Considering Gideon had been practicing it for almost eight years, he bristled at the word rudimentary. But he couldn’t really argue, could he? He was still only copper rank.

“Grandnephew?” Gideon asked. “So I really do inherit the castle?” He felt a seed of hope in his chest, a bright feeling that would have made him dance around the room, if only his legs worked.

“Well,” Kelvan said, pausing to stroke his beard. “That’s a funny word, isn’t it? ‘Inherit.’ Seeing as I am only partially dead? Let’s circle back to that topic later. At your age, you must be level fifteen by now? No, of course not!” He shook his head and smiled. “You’re a Kastorus! So, level twenty?”

“Uh…” Gideon said, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “I’m level four.”

For a long moment, no one said anything, and Gideon cringed. Of all the things he had expected to happen today, being judged for his lack of progress was not one of them.

But then Kelvan began to laugh and shook his head. He raised a wrinkled finger to his eye, as if wiping a tear. “Ah, Nephew! You’re quite the comedian. You really got me. Let me just bring up your stats and see what we’re working with…”

In the mirror’s reflection, Gideon watched as a blue screen appeared, and his eyes widened. It took a decent amount of skill to check one’s own status screen, let alone someone else’s. Gideon still didn’t possess the skill to [Appraise] himself.

Status Name: Gideon Moody Level: 4 Attributes Might: 9 Brilliance: 12 Fortitude: 10 Willpower: 11 Finesse: 8 Guidance: 12 Skills Geomancy: Copper, A Grade Meditation: Copper, B Grade Manasculpting: Copper, D Grade Spiritweft: Stone, D Grade

Another long moment of silence passed as Kelvan read Gideon’s status screen, and Gideon squinted his eyes as he tried to read it backwards. Gideon wasn’t sure he even understood some of the skills he supposedly possessed—what was spiritweft, anyway? He’d never even heard that term before. And why was it ranked so poorly?

Judging by the way Kelvan’s eyebrow furrowed at the screen, he was not impressed.

“Dear Goddess of Magic,” Kelvan said at last, waving his hand to dismiss the screen. “You were serious. What poor excuse for a school did you even go to?”

“Uh, none of them?” Gideon stammered. “I mean, I was trying to save up to go to Falconridge—”

“Falconridge? Never heard of it.”

“It’s one of the best schools in Acretan, you know,” Gideon said, a bit defensively.

“Acretan? Don’t tell me you’re as hopeless at geography as you are at magic. We’re in the Kingdom of Gleuric.”

“Uh, I hate to break this to you, Lord Kelvan, but the Kingdom of Gleuric dissolved before I was even born. They, uh, chopped off the King’s head. It’s called Acretan now.”

“Ah. Well, how about the Ebonreach Institute? You couldn’t get in there? That’s where I went, you know. Fine school. If I’d known, I could have told them you were a legacy admission.”

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure Ebonreach closed like a hundred and fifty years ago. Besides, wasn’t that a school for dark magic? Like, necromancy? Didn’t they burn it down to stop a zombie plague from spreading?”

Kelvan waved his hand dismissively. “The past is the past. Let’s not dwell on it.” He stroked his beard again, then seemed to make a decision. “Grimsby, put your hand on my nephew’s shoulder. Since I have no body, I cannot perform such a reassuring gesture myself.”

Grimsby stepped forward, and Gideon backed away just as quickly, slamming his back into the headboard, pain shooting through his already weakened body. “Uh, don’t worry about it. I can use my imagination.”

“Ah,” Lord Kelvan said, nodding sagely. “Great. In that case, let me reassure you, my nephew, that despite your ineptitude, there are a lot of opportunities for growth in your new position.”

“New position?” For some reason, he did not like the sound of that.

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s your lucky day, Gideon,” Kelvan said, smiling as if he was doing him a great favor. “Welcome to the team, newest minion.”

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