"Oh wow," said Eyes as soon as the ghost vanished, leaving the dull orb in Sirius' hand.

"Now, return to your body, until something else tries to enter it."

"What is that?" Sirius showed the orb the size of a fist. His mind felt empty, now that nobody else was influencing his emotions.

"Hurry up, I'll explain when you are awake," Eyes said strictly and waited for Sirius to come back to his shell. "That is the core of the Ghost. Something rare to remain from them, but not unheard of."

"Is it useful?" Sirius sat up on the bed, struggling to gather his thoughts as his mind was still settling back.

"Oh, I would tear it into memory fragments to fill up the missing points in our records of the past, but someone might get too interested in that."

"Someone like who?"

"Blacksmiths believe that embedding the ghost core into an item makes it stronger. For example, if a ghost was that of a farmer, then they'll forge its core into a shovel."

"A... shovel?"

"YES! A SHOVEL! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? A WHOLE LIFE OF A PERSON REDUCED TO THEM BEING A SHOVEL THAT MIGHT DIG A HOLE A BIT BETTER!" the Eyes' rage made the mana in the room rush with each her movement, making dust and sand on the floor form geometric patterns.

Sirius froze stiff in the bed, and his Astral Body shrank away from the powerful mage in front of him. He never seen her that angry, and he was also quite sure that he was conscious only because her anger was not directed at him...

Eyes took a deep breath and retrieved the pressure, allowing Sirius to inhale, "oh, sorry for that. They have managed to persuade people in their enchanted tools' superiority, despite not having any evidence for that."

"And people believe that?"

"OH YES THEY DO!" Eyes flared up again, but quickly got the hold of herself, "those blacksmiths find more and more witnesses by the day. Even if there is no real reason for us to use shovels, since majority of us can just will the earth out of the ground, they still somehow manage to succeed. Those tools sell well."

"But of they come from the Ghost of the Past, does it mean the only way to get them is to get infected?"

"It is correct, and everyone comes here to heal themselves, so each core passes through my hands. But after a couple of rowdy smiths, I was forced to ask permission to take the core from the patient. Most agree."

"Why don't people just stick their head into leylines if they want a new fancy tool then?"

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Oh, look who is so smart. Most Ghosts attach to ones with aligned mentality, and greedy ghosts don't let go of the body so easily. A dozen of walking corpses dissuaded everyone from that way of acquiring ghosts. And your Ghost was also a rather mild one. Was he a mage?"

"He?..." Sirius thought for a moment. "I don't think so. He was talking about eradicating witches. Didn't you hear him? He was yelling like crazy."

"Oh, witches... I need to verify against notes, but it feels like a really old word. And no, he was quiet on the outside, you were the only one who could talk to him. Did he say his place of origin?" Eyes began rummaging through the pile of books on the table.

"He did say 'the Holy Empire of Man', a country that spread from southern mountains to plains of north."

"Oh?... There are no mountains in the south," Eyes threw the remark as she was flipping through the relevant records.

"What do you mean?... He couldn't just invent a place, could he?"

"Oh, I see... The southern mountains did in fact exist, but were levelled down during the Rogue Mage War three or four hundreds of years ago, resulting in the current archipelago. We have the accounts of a couple of mages from that time, even if wildly incoherent. Your ghost was from the times even earlier than that!"

"He told me he destroyed the Crimson Crusade, but they are under the church of the Kingdom right now... They hunted me down and I got this hole in my leg from their attack."

"Oh... That's... interesting, to say the least. Are you able to remember what you were talking about? I would rather write that down, there are not many accounts of non-mage ghosts, and so ancient at that."

"Sure..." Sirius collected his thoughts, weighing his options on what to hide and what to tell. In the end he decided giving everything away, in case it comes to bite him in the future.

"You really swore to fight Crimson Crusade?"

"I mean, not exactly tomorrow. But they were rather unfriendly whenever we met. And I have already had a fair share of conflicts with Silver Order. I am quite confident that Crusade is but a part of the Order, so why not take care of them as well."

"Huh, ambitious for a kid. So, you say he touched your chest before dissipating on its own?" Eyes was confused by the turn of events.

"He did... Is there a problem?"

"He touched here, right?" Eyes of the Forest's eyes flashed with green light, and she pointed at the exact place on Sirius' body.

"Yes..." Sirius opened his Mind's Eye in his palm and looked at himself. "Why did he leave a handprint?"

"If only I knew..." Eyes looked with confusion while tapping her foot. "It could be your Visage changing on its own. You seem to sincerely believe in your goal."

"I do," Sirius nodded. "All my problems stem from their rule over the Kingdom. I just want to leave all that behind."

Eyes of the Forest sensed the room turn grim, as Sirius flooded the mana with determination and dark hate for his enemies. She quietly narrowed her gaze, making a mental note on the foreigner.

"Now, I must ask, do you consent to give up this ghost core?"

"Huh? Oh, of course. I don't have any reasons to keep it."

"OH, I am grateful for that..."

"On the other hand..." Sirius looked at the hazy orb that looked like a shadow of some distant, yet close object in his hand, making Eyes stiffen. "Can I watch you extract memories from it? The matter it is made of is rather interesting, I might get some inspiration."

"Oh, just say that out loud next time. No need to tease me like that," she sighed with relief. "Of course you can watch. We might have some in store as well. Their quality is so inferior that even the blacksmiths refuse to use them."

"Can I really take them?"

"Just one or two at most, we don't have an awful lot of them. Ghosts of the Past appear a couple of times per month or so, but less than a quarter of them leave a core behind."