Holy Ghost

Memories floated all around her as Winry hunted Isaac down. They flew by her in flashes of information, like a psychological database. She heard words from his past: words regretted, words adored, and words denied. She saw him as a child, a son, and a man, but she had yet to see the soul she was seeking.

Making her way deeper into Isaac's subconscious mind, Winry called his name to no avail. Over and over again, she tried to reach out for his soul. Her spiritual body, that red ghost-like being, slithered within his host body. Ghostly fingertips stretched out, avoiding memories she could get sucked within.

Isaac's soul was here. It was deep inside of him, but it was here. Winry could sense it.

As a Seith Mage, Winry's sixth sense was her most powerful, and as a healer of the soul, she was drawn to the darkest parts of Isaac's mind. They dwelled in his childhood.

Memories of a castle fire flashed by her. She could feel the tongues of flame as the memory wrapped itself around her, and quickly, she permitted it to overtake her.

"Uncle's going to town!" a young male's voice pronounced before bounding into the castle library. Looking up from his book, Isaac furrowed his brows at a six year old version of his half-brother Urian.

He was bundled up from head to toe. A toboggan sealed in his black hair, and two brilliant blue eyes gleamed just above a thick wool scarf. Despite the many layers that covered Urian's body, the boy hastened forward. He grabbed the arm holding Isaac's book and pulled. "Come on! Get dressed. He's still getting the horses ready. If you hurry, you can come with us."

With a sad smile on his face, Isaac reached up and mussed Urian's head. "They won't let me out of the house, Uri. You know how mother and father are."

"But you can sneak out!" the boy pleaded with his older brother. "I already told the maid to ready your clothes. She's got everything laid out for you. If you hurry, mother and father will never know!" He tugged even harder on Isaac's arm.

Shaking his head, Isaac explained, "They'll find out, and when they do, I'll be in worse trouble than the last time I snuck out." And he didn't feel like reliving those lashings any time soon.

Even so, Urian's big blue eyes gazed up at him. Isaac could barely catch a glance of his quivering bottom lip above the scarf. His brother looked more like a pleading puppy than he did a little boy.

"I'm not falling for that," Isaac scolded. He pried Urian's gloved fingers off his arm then closed his book. After placing it off to the side, Isaac reached for the necklace tucked beneath his shirt. "Here. Take that with you. It's a little part of me that can go with you."

"But your Da gave that to you. I can't take it. What if I lost it?"

"Then, it'd get to experience something other than the castle walls."

Reaching out, Isaac closed Urian's fingers against the silver locket and chain that had been given to him by his birth father. It was the only trinket Isaac had, and it was the only thing that his birth father had ever been able to give him.

Though Urian was the child showered with gifts and luxuries, Isaac was not. Urian's father, and brother to the King of Lancet, had suspicions that Isaac was not really his firstborn son, so while Urian was able to tour the northeastern section of the country, Isaac was confined here.

It was a precaution. Nicolai Lancet wanted to make sure Isaac never made contact with anyone who could have been his birth father, but the noble fool had no clue that Isaac's blood relative was the very man who took care of the stables each day.

Often, Isaac would go and see his father, but it wasn't until Nicolai noted their similarities that he forbid Isaac to ever leave the interior of their home. So, he was confined in a lavish prison with only the gardens to admire if he wanted to go outside. He was lucky that his father had been able to sneak any trinket to him.

All Isaac wanted to do was go outside, to see markets and festivals like his little brother did, but he was forbidden. And with a relative from the western region of Lancet coming to visit them, Isaac's necklace was safest with his little brother. Isaac couldn't risk Nicolai noticing it, or the man would take it away.

He was only allowed to have what his father gave him.

Seeing the loneliness in his elder brother's eyes, Urian quickly tossed the necklace on. "Alright. Fine, but I'm going to buy you all kinds of stuff in town. I'll even show your picture to some girls. Get them to write you letters like they do me."

"Ha! Like they would ever—"

"Urian!" Nicolai Lancet's voice boomed down the corridor.

"Don't scare the boy, Nicolai. He might run off and never come back with that kind of attitude," King Adam taunted as his voice neared. There was a sadness in it, a sadness that had been there ever since his daughter had been kidnapped.

"Humph. If I could scare one of them off, it would be the one my wife claims as my son."

"Come now, Nicolai. You don't really believe that rumor. Astrid would never stray from you."

A short grunt followed that, and both boys gave a slight wince.

Isaac knew that he'd never win his father's favor, but that didn't mean the fact didn't sting. Nicolai may not have been as good a father as King Adam, but he at least acknowledged Urian, gave presents to Urian, and pampered Urian.

Isaac was just the heir. His purpose was to one day rule this house and be married off to some strange girl. That was the reason for the visit to come later today. The man was a distant relative of the Hawthorne family and had a daughter unpromised to anyone.

Since Princess Erianna had been kidnapped, Isaac was to marry the link to western Lancet. The crown felt it would be best since King Adam had no other heirs.

"I promise to bring you back something," Urian whispered when King Adam and Nicolai entered the room.

The King extended his hand to the boy, and Urian gave Isaac one last glimpse before walking towards his uncle. Yes, his uncle. Everything was Urian's. This was Urian's home. This was Urian's father. The only thing Isaac had was a father he wasn't allowed to see, and a mother who hadn't even nursed him as a babe. The woman had employed people to take care of him from the very day he'd been born.

A wet nurse to feed him, a maid to clothe him. His mother never took part in his raising.

He hated to be jealous of his little brother, but it was hard not to. When Nicolai gave just the slightest upturning of his typical scowl at the boy, Isaac's heart twisted. Nicolai never smiled at him.

A few words were exchanged after that near grin, and Urian was walked off with King Adam. When it was only Nicolai and Isaac in the room, his father spat, "Bathe and clothe yourself. The Hawthorne family will be arriving soon." Without even looking at Isaac, Nicolai left the room.

Sighing, Isaac slipped from his wooden stool. After tucking his book back into the shelf, he made his way to the bathing chamber. Room temperature water awaited him, and once his bath was over, his manservant stood to dress him.

In a few short hours, Isaac stood at the grand entrance of the castle. A blonde haired and blue eyed girl held the telltale mark of the Hawthorne family, and her pale father matched her in features.

"Senator Hawthorne," Nicolai greeted, inclining his head. "This is my son, Isaac."

Trying to keep his upper lip from curling, Isaac's mind scorned, Astounding. He said it without scowling. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Isaac sounded off. His voice was robotic. The words had long ago been programmed into his head.

"Such good manners on the boy, Nicolai. If only Bella could behave so well." The man laid one hand on his daughter's blonde head. Instead of embracing the gesture, she tossed her head off the side to scowl at a vase.

Isaac frowned at her. Princess Erianna wouldn't have acted that way. She would have beamed up at her father, giving him one of the sweetest smiles.

Isaac had very little experience with women. The only women he saw were the maids and various servants in the house. Most of them were older than he was, but some of them had daughters that worked for their family. When it came to any females that weren't servants, Isaac had only been allowed to meet Princess Erianna.

She was the standard Isaac had set when it came to noble females.

Brazen and daring, Erianna had been the leader of Isaac and Urian when she visited. They would play in the gardens together, and Isaac could still recall her father's sighs when he'd catch his princess climbing trees. "I can dress her in gowns and slippers, yet she still finds a way to get to the apples."

As Isaac listened to Nicolai speak with Senator Hawthorne, he studied the girl in front of him. Unlike Erianna's free flowing locks, this girl had her hair twisted into various braids that pulled back to form a giant one behind her head. Her dress was neat and orderly. There were no secret pockets like Erianna had sewn into her dresses, and her slippers were clean of any mud or grass stains.

"Come with me," Nicolai stated, pulling Isaac away from his thoughts. "You're surely exhausted from the ride. I'll show you and your daughter to the guest wing."

Senator Hawthorne pressed light fingertips against his Bella's back. The tender smile he gave his daughter was met with lip curled contempt. "I do not want to sleep, Daddy. I want Urian. You said he would be here."

"Now, Bella. I already told you. Urian's with King Adam. He'll be back later on tonight. Besides, we're here to meet Isaac." Senator Hawthorne gestured to the purple eyed boy beside Nicolai.

When Bella's bright blue eyes scrutinized him, Isaac felt like an ant underneath a microscope. Her mouth was set in an expression of disgust as she looked from his freshly polished shoes to his neatly tucked dress shirt. Isaac had been dressed to impress. So far, it looked like he was failing.

"He is not Urian," Bella protested.

No, but I wish I could be, Isaac thought. Urian was popular with girls his age, even popular with older women. There was this kind of charisma that bled from his pores. It made girls want him and guys want to be him.

Isaac had been born with none of that charisma. He was the dorkly one of the brothers. The one who was confined to his quarters, sated only by the fact that he could escape in books.

He lacked Urian's looks and wit. The only blessing Isaac was given was an ability to slink into the shadows forgotten.

"Come now, Bella. Isaac is a strapping lad. How about the two of you go play outside, get to know each other while we men discuss business?" her father offered, giving Nicolai a look of apology. "Surely, your maids or son can escort her to her room when evening settles?"

"Yes, of course," Nicolai's authoritative voice agreed. He took a look at Isaac, and the boy knew what it meant exactly. The gardens. Not the real outside. Just the gardens.

Bowing his head, Isaac offered his hand to Bella. "My brother will return shortly. Would you like to see the winter flowers our gardener is keeping in the greenhouse?"

Her snarl said, "No", but her father said, "Yes." With obvious reluctance, Bella slipped her hand into Isaac's. The two of them headed towards large glass doors leading to the central courtyard while the men walked up the stairs.

As soon as they were alone, Bella pronounced, "The girls from my home say Urian is handsome as the devil. Did he suck all the good looks out of the family to leave you pale and sullen-faced."

"Sullen-faced," Isaac snorted. "Fancy words for a bimbo."

"B-Bimbo!" she gasped. "One more word, and I'll have you whipped!"

"Wouldn't be the first time," he grumbled.

The rest of the day went on with that same theme, and the longer Isaac spent with Bella, the more he wished his perfect brother would return. A headache grew more and more as Bella's chipmunk-esque voice rattled off insults in his ears. She didn't like the idea of marrying Isaac anymore than Isaac liked her. She took every opportunity to point out just how lacking he was for her.

It wasn't until late in the eve when Isaac was finally granted a reprieve from her existence. Thankful for the escape, Isaac hastily retreated to his favorite place in the entire castle—the library.

Here, Isaac could escape hateful glares and unsavory comments. Here, he didn't have to worry about being the heir.

As his starved eyes eagerly devoured the book he'd left in the morning, Isaac took up the role of a knight, a peasant, and a dragon. He slayed beasts. He rescued damsels. He even did the one thing considered blasphemy in Lancet. He performed magic.

The elements were at his control as Isaac read a story of foreign mages. He was so entranced by tales of fire breathing dragons that he paid no heed to the smell of smoke permeating the air. Tongues of flame crackled in his mind, and he felt as if he was falling into the story until a shrill shriek filled the air.

"Fire!" a guard hollered out in the house.

Jerking his gaze from the story, Isaac's eyes were drawn to the window. A pillar of smoke was coming around the bend of the structure. Crimson light flickered just beyond Isaac's window, but when he jumped up to escape, the library door was flung open.

His lips were parting on the word father until Senator Hawthorne stepped through the door. Bearing a torch in one hand and a sword in the other, Isaac assumed Hawthorne to be there to escort him from the building.

"If you were older, I wouldn't feel half as bad about this," he explained, coming closer.

"Bad? About what—" He was answered when Hawthorne tossed the torch at the bookcase. Isaac's eyes widened when the senator raised a bloodied sword in the air.

Hastily, Isaac scrambled up the back of the chair. The sword's slash sliced into the fabric he'd just been sitting in. Air from the blow whispered against Isaac's pant leg before he landed on his back on the floor.

A weapon! He needed a weapon.

The sword came down again, but Isaac knocked over an end table. The blade was wedged into the wood as Isaac darted for something—anything. He could hear the sword be relieved of its hold when the senator's feet charged him.

"Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be, boy," Hawthorne growled as he approached.

"The hell are you doing this for?" Isaac bit out. The senator was raising his blade once more. Reaching out, Isaac snagged a book from a shelf next to him. When his enemy was poised to attack, Isaac chunked it towards the man's face.

"Don't play dumb. You know why the princess was kidnapped, why the gods despise your kind. You're demons! Abominations! Stay still, and let me kill you peacefully."

"Fuck that shit!" Isaac yelped when he dove beneath another swing. How he was avoiding the blows was beyond him. His senses were on overdrive. He could smell the ash and flames around him. The flames were reaching high, towards the wooden beams stretching overhead. If one of those went down, he was dead.

Kicking the end table he'd used earlier, Isaac watched the senator catch his foot on the edge of the rug. He used the man's slip up to get back on two feet. Charging forward, Isaac jumped onto Hawthorne's back.

His long arms wrapped around the man's throat, and his legs wrapped around his waist. The sword the senator was bearing floundered in the air as he tried to pry Isaac off him. Isaac's back was slammed into a flaming bookshelves, and his hair caught flame at the ends.

He didn't let go.

Holding onto the man's throat for dear life, Isaac tried to strangle him. His back was smashed into flaming bookcases and furniture. The blows tried to knock the breath out of him, but he held on tighter.

The legs around the senator's waist tightened. His arms were a constrictor around the man's throat. Gasping waves spouted from Hawthorne's throat, and he gulped for air. Gradually, his thrashing weakened. The sword slid across the floor when he dropped to his knees, and as soon as it did, Isaac dropped.

The stench of burnt hair followed him when he scampered towards the blade. Hawthorne was still writhing. With his skin returning from a bluish tint, he grabbed onto thick draperies. They tore from the curtain rod to fall all around him. When he charged for Isaac, they made a burning cape around his shoulders.

A hand reached out, and Isaac reacted on impulse. Blood spurted from the back of Hawthorne's impaled body. The man's eyes bulged as they gaped down at Isaac. They gaped with accusation, with hate and with fear. His body slid closer to Isaac.

Quickly, the boy tossed the blade to scramble to his feet, but his escape was quickly barricaded by a fallen beam.

"Isaac!" a familiar voice screeched from down the halls.

No! No! Not Urian! "Urian, get the hell outta here!" Isaac hollered from behind the beam. He grabbed onto it, bracing to make it budge. It did no such thing. As if to mock him, the heavy, wooden beam sat there in all its fire scorched glory.

The door was braced shut.

Damn it! Why? Why now? Why did gods hate him?

"I'm going to save you!" Urian screamed from the other side of the door.

"You're stupid! You're going to get hurt if you don't—"

"Well, what do we have here," suddenly came from behind him. Thinking it was the senator's ghost back to haunt him, Isaac braced for attack. He almost went slack jawed when he saw the most beautiful woman imaginable standing before him.

White hair flowed around her angelic face, and a pair of snowy wings only added to that look of purity. When she smiled, Isaac's brows briefly rose at a pair of ivory fangs for canines.

Backing against the beam, Isaac whispered, "The hell are you?"

"Your only hope," she breathed. In a matter of seconds, she was standing right in front of him. A gentle touched soothed the flames burning away at his hair and skull. When she cradled his face in her smooth hands, Isaac thought for all the world that she was about to kiss him. It wasn't until the feel of fangs digging deep into his throat that he realized this was no angel.

Winry gasped for breath when her spiritual body was expelled from Isaac's memory. She'd seen… She'd seen Umbrianna, Keeper of the Gate. She tried to turn around, to find the exact moment when the beast had been placed inside of Isaac, but she couldn't.

"It's not polite to pry in other people's heads," a deep, dark voice mentioned from the abyss around her.

Red eyes widened, and Winry clutched her fingers against a floor that wasn't there. Slowly, she turned. Her heart pumped fast and hard in her chest. It seemed to be beating against her spirit form's ribcage when she caught sight of bare feet.

Slowly, she ran her gaze up and up… and up. "Holy Ghost…"