Lily
"Who are you?" I demanded, stepping back, the defensive rune still glowing faintly beneath my palm. "And why in all the realms would you break into my ward?"
He didn't flinch. Didn't even glance at the fading lines of my barrier. His voice was calm, almost… soft. "I'm James," he said. "Your father."
I stared. My mind rebelled against the words. My father? That was impossible. "My father is gone," I snapped, though my voice came out thinner than I intended. "And even if he wasn't, he wouldn't just appear in my training ground."
His gaze held steady, the faintest ache in it. "I died years ago. But I couldn't reach you… not until now. Your magic woke me."
I shook my head. No. This was wrong. My grandmother's journal had been clear; James had walked out on my mother, Martha, before I could even form a word. He'd left her for her closest friend. That was all he was to me…a shadow in a bitter story.
"Save it," I cut in before he could say more. "I don't know what you think you're doing here, but I'm not interested in ghostly confessions."
Still, he didn't vanish. He stood there, fading and returning like a restless flame, watching me as if there was more he needed to say. And I hated that a small, treacherous part of me wanted to hear it.
I turned my back on him, muttering the release word for my barrier. The magic snapped shut with a hiss, sealing us apart at least, that was the plan.
A cold draft slid across my neck. I spun around. He was inside the cabin.
"No," I said sharply. "No, you don't just drift in here like some… some uninvited breeze."
James tilted his head, his form still wavering at the edges. "I didn't drift," he said quietly. "I followed you."
My stomach knotted. Ghost or not, that ward was supposed to keep everything out. "That's impossible."
"You're my daughter. The wards you weave—your blood leaves me a way in." His eyes softened, though the faint smile on his lips looked tired. "It's the only reason I can stand here now."
I clenched my fists. "You don't get to show up after decades of silence and talk like you know me."
"I know more than you think," he said. "I know you've felt a power building in you these past months, a pull you can't explain. I know you've been told a version of me that ends in betrayal."
"That's not a version," I shot back. "That's the truth."
He didn't deny it. Instead, his gaze drifted toward the small table where my grandmother's journal lay. "There are truths in there… and there are truths you've never been told. I'm here to give you the rest."
I shook my head, stepping around him, refusing to let his half-transparent figure block my path. "You can talk all you want, but I'm not listening."
"Then don't listen," he said, voice almost a whisper. "Just let me stay. For tonight."
I didn't answer. I stared at him, my pulse pounding. "You broke into my ward," I said slowly, "and now you expect me to believe you're here for a good cause?"
"I'm here because you're in danger," he said, voice low, urgent. "You don't understand what's coming…"
"I don't care." My tone was ice. "You were unfaithful when you were alive. You abandoned my mother. And now you think you can show up after death and play the hero?"
"Lily…"
"No!" The word cracked like a whip. "You don't get to talk. Not now, not ever."
I drew the sigils in the air, my fingers sparking with familiar heat. The runes flared, and the cabin walls hummed with warding energy. James's outline shimmered, distortion crawling over him like static.
His mouth opened, maybe to argue, maybe to beg, but I didn't give him the chance. I spoke the final binding word, and in a blink, he was gone—snuffed out like a candle. The silence that followed was thick, pressing in from all sides.
"I don't need a ghost in my life," I muttered, my voice sharper than I felt. My hands still trembled, but not just from anger. Something deeper thrummed beneath my ribs; a strange, unwanted ache that felt almost… familiar.
The wards shimmered faintly in the dim light. I should have felt safe. Instead, a prickling ran along my skin, as if the air itself remembered him. Blood knows blood, some quiet, treacherous part of me whispered. And then the truth slid cold and unwelcome into my mind, he hadn't broken my ward by force. No. He'd slipped through because my magic had recognised him… and let him in. I shook the thought away, hard. But I couldn't shake the feeling that, even from beyond the grave, James hadn't gone far.
I exhaled deeply and sank onto the bed in my old room, the worn wooden walls of my grandmother's cabin closing around me like familiar arms. Yet the air felt strangely hollow. It had been only an hour since I'd driven out the ghost who dared to breach my ward—claiming to be my father—and still my pulse hadn't settled.
Since I'd stepped foot here, I'd been listening for her. Miriam. My grandmother. This had been her sanctuary, her magic woven into every beam and nail. If any spirit should linger here, it should be hers. But the silence was absolute. Not even the faintest ripple of her presence. She was the only ghost I wanted near me… and the one I needed most.
I lay back, but sleep was a stranger tonight. My body ached with weariness, yet my mind refused to obey. Inevitably, it drifted to Elis. The memory of his arms, the warmth of his breath against my skin—it pulled at me like a tether. Saints, I missed him already, and it had barely been a day.
Needing a distraction, I reached out mentally, the thread of magic that connected me to my clone shimmering to life. What I saw nearly stole my breath.
There she was—there I was—sitting in the palace courtyard, laughing easily with Sera and Maris as if nothing had changed. The tone, the gestures, the way her head tilted just so when she smiled… it was uncanny. I blinked hard, leaning into the vision. The stiffness, the faint lifelessness she'd carried when I left her behind was gone, replaced with fluid grace and warmth that mirrored my own.
A chill of awe and unease ran through me. If she had managed to fool me—me, her creator—then no one else stood a chance of seeing through her. Not Sera. Not Maris. Not even Elis.
And that was exactly how it needed to be.