Chapter 99: Ch99 – I Win

Ryan hurriedly crawled backward across the muddy grass, hands and feet scrabbling like a crab. His movements were awkward and ungraceful, but fast enough to put a little distance between him and the girl.

“Where are you going! Are we playing?” The little girl asked, her voice bright and playful.

“Hahaha!” She giggled, splashing in puddles as she chased the crab walker.

Ryan rounded a pillar, and found himself at a dead end.

Ryan yelped as he felt a small finger brush the back of his arm.

“Caught you! Do I win now?” she asked, tilting her head, eyes wide with excitement.

Ryan slowly turned to face her, breath coming in shallow gasps.

“How… how can you touch my arm? You’re a ghost r—right?”

The girl’s grin was mischievous. “What’s a ghost? I’m just… me! Can we play more.”

Ryan stared at her, incredulous. She was real.

“Wait,” Ryan said, pointing vaguely at the open space around them. “Can… can anyone else see you? Or is it just me?”

She tilted her head, considering, and then shook it. “Just you… and Geoffrey, but Geoffrey’s weird. You are fun though! You’re my friend now, okay?”

Ryan blinked, trying to process. “Wait… Geoffrey… is that… is that the guy with no arms?”

The little girl’s eyes sparkled, as if he’d said something funny. “Yeah! He walks funny too. But he’s… nice! You can talk to him too… but I don’t know where he went!”

“So are you guys… are you dead?”

“Yeah… I think so. I just don’t remember how it happened.” The little girl said with a small frown.

“I also don’t know why I’M still here, but the others leave after they die,” the girl said, tugging at the hem of her soaked tunic. “Most people just… move on. Geoffrey thinks it’s because we’re too attached to the world to let it go.”

Ryan’s mind clicked. The Blackwood boy…

“Wait… does that mean I can talk to him too?” Ryan muttered.

The girl tilted her head. “Talk to who?”

“The Blackwood knight, the one who just died.” Ryan said.

“He might have already left, but we can still go check!” The little girl said, as she hopped away.

Ryan followed.

They rounded the thick wooden pillar and walked further into the rain-soaked arena.

The mist had thinned considerably now, pulled down by the heavy rain. Visibility stretched across most of the fighting ground.

Ahead, Ryan saw the Blackwood boy’s corpse.

The nobleman—his father—still knelt beside the body. He cradled his son’s head in his lap, one hand smoothing back wet hair from the boy’s pale forehead.

The man’s shoulders shook silently.

A few paces away, healers tended to James and Jeremy. Both still lay unconscious on stretchers, armour removed.

Jared sat nearby on a low stone, elbows on his knees, watching his brother’s chest rise and fall.

But Ryan’s attention fixed on something else.

A man, standing in black armour, with a deep, bloody indent on the back of his head.

James Blackwood stood beside his father. His face was wet—not with rain, but with tears.

He stared down at his own corpse. And at his father’s grief-stricken face.

His mouth moved, words forming that no one could hear.

“Father, I’m here. I’m right here. Please—”

The nobleman didn’t react to the words.

Blackwood’s hand reached toward his father’s shoulder.

His hand met his father’s shoulder, but he still couldn’t get his attention.

The ghost pulled back, face twisted in anguish.

The little girl tugged on Ryan’s sleeve. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

Ryan nodded slowly.

“He hasn’t moved on yet.” She whispered

Because he’s too attached. Because he can’t leave his father like this.

Ryan looked around.

Jared. The healers. The nobleman. All were within earshot.

I can’t just walk up and start talking to a ghost in front of everyone. They’ll think I’ve lost my mind.

Ryan took a slow breath and stepped forward.

He moved closer to the Blackwood ghost, making sure to not bother the grieving father.

When he was close enough, Ryan cleared his throat softly.

The ghost’s head snapped up.

Their eyes met.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then Blackwood’s expression shifted—confusion, then shock, then something like hope.

“You can see me,” James Blackwood murmured.

Ryan gave a small nod.

Blackwood glanced at his father, then back at Ryan. “How? Are you dead too? How can you—”

Ryan held up his wrist slightly, showing off the bracelet.

The Blackwood tilted his head in confusion. He then looked to the little girl beside Ryan.

“I need to talk to you,” Ryan said, as quietly as he could. “But not here. Not with…” He gestured vaguely at the living people nearby.

James Blackwood looked back at his father.

“Please,” Ryan added.

The ghost’s gaze lingered on his father’s bowed head for several more seconds.

Then, finally, he nodded.

“Where?” Blackwood asked.

“This way.” Ryan said, walking back the way he came.

The little girl skipped alongside him. “Are you going to help him?”

“I’m going to try,” Ryan said quietly.

“Good,” she said. “He seems sad.”

Ryan glanced back once.

James Blackwood still stood beside his father. Watching him.

Then the ghost turned and began walking after Ryan.

Ryan quickened his pace.

Ryan stopped near the wooden bench where he’d fallen earlier. The mud still showed the imprint of his body.

The little girl plopped down on the bench, swinging her legs.

James Blackwood arrived a moment later, moving slowly, like someone still adjusting to being dead.

He stopped a few paces from Ryan and stood there, waiting.

For a moment, Ryan didn’t know what to say.

How do you start a conversation with a dead man?

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said finally. “About um… what happened to you.”

Blackwood’s jaw tightened. “You were one of the accusers. Weren’t you? Ryan, was it?”

“I was.”

“Then, please, could you do me a favour? Could you take care of my brother? And would you tell my father that I’m okay… that it will be fine?”

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