They talked about their options endlessly as the weeks became months. The Reef revolved into its second short summer. The Reformation received more sunlight, and the bioengineered forest put out broad leaves and flowers.
Lethia and Ferral grew closer. They became familiar with each other's habits and sense of humor. Ferral introduced Lethia to various games he had learned to play with a ghost, which doubled as defensive training, such as trying to snatch a ghost out of the air, while the ghost tried to dodge by disappearing.
But sometimes, the darkness crept up on Ferral again. A sharp sound or a strange animal cry would propel him into flashbacks of the Dreadnaught. He would lose track of where he was or what he had been doing. In those times, he would even lash out at Lethia, if she approached him too quickly.
She learned that when this happened, she had to call Banner. The ghost would appear, just as haunted and ill as his Guardian. Lethia cupped her hands around him and steadied his Light. And as Banner's Light calmed, so did Ferral's.
These episodes would cost Ferral an entire day. They became fewer as time went on, but they didn't stop completely, even with the therapy Lethia was giving him.
One afternoon, Ferral was asleep in his cot after a bad episode. Lethia had worked over him and Banner all morning, and was sitting outside in the sun, resting, with Niki hovering nearby for moral support.
Suddenly Niki turned in a circle, scanning. "Someone's coming."
Lethia jumped to her feet. "An enemy?"
"No?" Niki replied. "It's a person riding a craft like a sparrow. My scans want to peg them as a Dreaming City Corsair, but that's not quite it."
"Why would anyone want to visit us?" Lethia muttered. "I wonder if the Vanguard sent a Guardian to check on us."
"It's not a Guardian," Niki replied. "No ghost tag."
Lethia loaded her sidearm and holstered it. "Just in case they're an enemy," she assured Niki. "Better hide."
He vanished, but she felt him nearby, watching anxiously.
A few minutes later, the grumble of a vehicle echoed through the trees. A hovering sparrow-like craft pulled into the clearing. An Awoken man was aboard, dressed in a heavy jacket and helmet for travel. He parked the bike and climbed off, removing his helmet. He stood there a moment, gazing at the shack, and then Lethia. He was a very clean, well-groomed Awoken, like a panther walking erect.
"Hello," she said, advancing cautiously. "Can I help you?"
His glance told her she was unworthy to lick his shoes. "I'm looking for Kymil Elvaris Dasa. My sources lead me to believe he may be hidden here."
Lethia opened her mouth to say that this man had come to the wrong place. Then she hesitated. "Would this Kymil happen to be a Guardian?"
The stranger's lips tweaked slightly in disgust. "I'm afraid so. You are ...?"
"Lethia Mar," she replied. "His colleague. He's indisposed at the moment. And you are?"
"I am Delsaran Ildeth," he replied. "Steward of the house of Dasa, now that most of the clan has been Taken. I'm seeking out the last living heir, even if he is a Guardian."
Lethia stared at Delsaran for several stunned seconds. Ferral was the heir to the Dasa clan's vast holdings? Sweet, caring Ferral, who had spent the morning stranded in his own nightmare memories?
Her silence seemed to amuse Delsaran. He shifted his weight and grinned. "Guardians know so little of Reefborn affairs. The cities are struggling to rebuild. The Dasa clan holds the contracts for ninety percent of new construction. But they're gone and the accounts are in limbo. We need a Dasa to at least sign the initial paperwork ... even if he has been raised an ignorant Lightbearer. Guardians can still read, can't they?"
Lethia felt like she'd been slapped in the face by Reefborn thought. She had been this repulsive, too.
"Wait a moment," she said. "I'll see if he's willing to talk to you."
Ferral was spread-eagled on his cot in the warm, stuffy shack, snoring. Banner had settled himself on his Guardian's chest, dozing, too. Lethia hated to wake them, especially after his awful flashback of that morning. She touched Ferral's shoulder.
He opened his eyes, but it was a long minute before he really woke up. Banner floated into the air at once, blinking. Ferral groaned, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. "What's wrong?"
"There's a man here to see you," Lethia said softly, so her voice wouldn't carry through the thin walls. "He's looking for the last living Dasa heir. Kymil Elvaris."
Ferral's yellow eyes widened. "Is that my original name?"
"This guy thinks it is. You didn't find that out when you were asking questions?"
"I didn't want to know," Ferral replied. "Light and Darkness." He smoothed his hair and began pulling on his boots. "Here I wished I'd never contacted the Dasa clan. Finding out my history has been nothing but heartache. And now I get to walk that circle one more time."
"Maybe it's a good thing," Lethia whispered. "It'd get you out of here."
"Sure, and into the business world. Lethia, I'm a soldier, not a business mogul."
"A soldier with PTSD," she muttered.
"I heard that," he said. But he stood and went out to meet Delsaran.
Delsaran smirked as Ferral emerged from the shack, but quickly settled his face in a neutral expression. "Ah, Kymil Elvaris. I see the birthmark. Are you aware that you are of Clan Dasa?"
"Yes sir," Ferral said stiffly. "I was also told not to interfere in Dasa affairs."
"You can disregard that order," Delsaran replied. "You are the last living Dasa ... although, being a Guardian, there are those who would contest that."
"Skip the snobbery," Ferral snapped. "Why are you here?"
Delsaran, unruffled, produced a sheaf of papers from one of the bike's saddlebags. "As the Steward, I am to pass acting control of the Dasa holdings to you. Once you take control, you may disperse the assets as you see fit. Or you may retain it all and rule like a king. It's all the same to me. I am your steward and will run most things for you."
Ferral took the papers and paged through them. Banner appeared and looked, too, ignoring Delsaran's sardonic expression. Lethia noticed the muscles at the corners of Ferral's mouth tighten.
He passed the papers back to Delsaran. "I need time to settle affairs back on Earth. Can you spare me a month? Thirty cycles?"
"That's thirty cycles with your crews standing idle," Delsaran replied. "But yes, certainly. Anything you ask, Lord Dasa." His smirk made the title into an insult as he climbed back on his bike. "When you return, find me at the Dasa stronghold in Reefedge. Don't waste time, Guardian." He threw the last word over his shoulder as he wheeled the bike around and roared away.
Ferral stood there, gazing after him, one fist clenching and opening. Lethia stood beside him, winded by the speed at which everything had changed.
"So," she said. "Looks like you're a millionaire, now."
"I'm substantially more than that," Ferral said. "According to that paperwork, I'm now the primary shareholder of nineteen different companies. The legal jargon says that Dasa family has first rights to all sales decisions. Without me, all the businesses will limp along until they go bankrupt, never able to be sold. I think Delsaran vastly understated how badly they need me." He drew a deep breath. "I ... did not expect this. Right. So." He looked around the clearing, as if seeking direction for his next move. "It's time to pack up and head back to Earth."
"You're kidding," Lethia said. "Just like that? After hiding here for so long?"
He turned to her and took her hands. "I have to settle accounts with the Vanguard. They might still decide to execute me. If so, the last Dasa will be gone. Their holdings will collapse. But the same thing would happen if the Vanguard tried me for deserting. Like I said, I'm not a coward. I'll face whatever they decide to do to me."
Lethia's eyes flooded with tears. She stood there, her hands in his warm grip, so stunned, she couldn't make a sound. But the tears poured down her cheeks.
Ferral wiped them away with the back of a hand. "Hey. Don't cry. They'll probably only exile me. I'll come back here and take charge of the company. It's all right. Really." He pulled her into a hug and held her tight.
Lethia sobbed into his shoulder. "But I'll lose you! Whether they execute you or exile you! I can't just follow you to the Reef! I'm a Guardian! I have to go where I'm sent!"
He held her and stroked her hair. It was immensely comforting. As her sobs slowed to sniffs, he said, "Listen, we'll work things out with the Vanguard. I'm not giving you up, not after everything you've gone through for me."
She looked into his golden eyes, her own so blurred, his looked like twin stars. "How can you be sure?"
"I can't," he replied. "That's why you have to go with me. Prove that your ghost is still alive, that I hurt him on accident. You're the one who will save my neck, here."
She hugged him fiercely. "If nothing else, can do that. They can't execute you for an accident. Let's pack the ship."
The Vanguard took Ferral's case extremely seriously.
When he reported to Zavala and requested a review of his report, Zavala had him confined to his room until further inquiry could be made.
"Good," Ferral said to Lethia, who followed him and his guards to the dormitory. "I need to pack, anyway."
"I'll keep you posted," Lethia told him. "We'll finally get this over with."
Ferral paused outside his door and pressed Lethia's hand. "It'll be all right," he reassured her. "I have complete faith in you." Then he went inside, and the guards locked the door behind him. But they observed this exchange with bewilderment.
"He doesn't act like a ghost killer," one said.
"It was an accident, that's why," Lethia replied. "It only looks bad on paper."
The other guard shrugged. "Good thing he's got you to vouch for him. Ghost killers don't live long, generally."
"Callum lived, what, ten minutes after he killed his ghost?" the other guard said. "Yeah, this Ferral's lucky Zavala didn't shoot him right there in the command center."
These words ringing in her ears, Lethia went back upstairs, Niki floating at her left shoulder.
"You're the one they need to see," she whispered. "To prove you're alive."
"Only because of your quick thinking," Niki said, brushing his shell against her hair. "If I had died, Ferral would be doomed."
In the command room, Zavala, Cayde-6 and Ikora were all gathered together with tablets in hand, arguing in low voices. As Lethia entered, Ikora waved her forward.
"Is this the ghost who died?" Ikora demanded, pointing at Niki.
"Yes, ma'am," Lethia said, wishing her heart wasn't pounding so hard.
Cayde and Zavala both stared at Niki.
"You sure that's the same ghost?" Cayde said. His Exo face was hard to read, but his voice was friendly enough.
"I'm the same," Niki said, flying forward. "Lethia pulled the knife out before I could quite die."
"Ferral hit you with a shadow blade, right?" Cayde said. "One of these." He opened one hand. An ethereal knife made of shimmering purple light appeared in his palm.
Niki flinched backward and hid behind Lethia. "That's right," he said, peeking over her shoulder.
Cayde flicked a wrist and the knife vanished. "Hunter discipline. Shadow knives are hard to control. Solar knives are much easier. Arc blades ... well, don't get me started on arc blades. Those puppies are attracted to everything metal."
Zavala gestured impatiently. "You're saying that it's possible to accidentally hit a ghost with a construct weapon?"
"Oh yeah," Cayde replied. "This report says he was trying to hit three targets at once? Notice he hit two of his intended targets. That's impressive."
"And he also hit Lethia's ghost," Ikora exclaimed, tapping her tablet screen with too much force. "How does that happen?"
"It was my fault," Niki said, flying out of hiding and facing the Vanguard commanders. "I came out of phase to open Lethia's bindings. I was trying to help. I didn't know Ferral was about to kill everything in the room."
Cayde pointed at him. "See? That's it. He distracted Ferral. Shadow knives work on focus. Lose focus, even a smidgen, and those knives hit stuff you didn't want them to hit."
Ikora squinted at Cayde. "Smidgen?"
"Nuance," Cayde replied. "Point is, I totally buy this being an accident. My hunters try crazy stuff with their powers. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't."
Zavala's frown deepened. "If this ghost was, indeed, hit with a shadow blade, it should be dead."
Ikora arched an eyebrow at Lethia, inviting her to explain.
Lethia licked dry lips. "I have a ... an instinct. For healing. I healed Ferral's ghost, first, when we thought he was dead. When Niki was hurt, I had the same feeling about what to do. I filled him with Void Light, then I ... I don't know what I did, but I could see the shadow blade stuck through his spark. I pulled it out and revived him."
"Lethia is already an outstanding Voidwalker," Ikora said. "It's possible to enter a light trance state and see your ghost's spark. I've done it, myself."
Zavala didn't answer. He was flipping through reports to find the account of Lethia healing Banner. He read it, scowling. His glowing blue eyes fixed on Lethia. "You resurrected a dead ghost?"
Lethia shrugged. "Maybe? I just rolled his core in my hands with a healing rift active. He was so cold, it took a long time to warm him. Then Ferral called him back. I couldn't do that - he needed Ferral's voice."
Zavala, Ikora, and Cayde stared at her in astonished silence.
"That s impossible," Ikora said flatly. "Ghosts can't be resurrected once they've returned to Light."
"I'm not claiming I resurrected him," Lethia hedged. "He wasn't completely dead."
After a short silence, Zavala said, "So, you've managed to heal two critically injured ghosts. Ferral attacked your ghost, apparently by accident." He summoned his own ghost. "Send a message to Guardian Ferral's guards to escort him here at once."
His ghost nodded and vanished.
Zavala turned to Cayde. "Hunters are your concern. You question him."
"I'm the good cop, huh?" Cayde said cheerfully. "That makes you the bad cop. Again. Come on, Zavala. Play against type more often."
Zavala didn't answer, but the hint of a smile touched his eyes.
Ikora drew Lethia aside a few steps. "Give them space to work. If they need your testimony, they'll ask."
Still, Lethia waited anxiously, fidgeting with the clasp on her battle robe.