Author's Note: Holy cow it's been over a year what the hell. I've been, well, writing other things, as well as getting my life back on track. This chapter was kind of, sitting at almost completed for a long time :( A quick summary of what has happened so far:

Lise came to Amatsu's Tatami Maze to learn more about the fabled Incantation Samurai, but ended up talking to the other resident ghost, NightEyes, instead. She learns that she looks like the late wife of NightEyes and that he wants to see his wife again, but Lise knows now it's not possible; NightEyes has been dead for centuries.

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Ragnarok Online

The Spectres of Amatsu

Chapter 6

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There have been records of people who have had their natural powers enhanced, or have been granted gifts by the gods, or God. These people are known as Transcendents, or to the ordinary, Rebirths or the Reborn.

Who knows what is needed to become one of the Transcendents. There have been theories, predictions, calculations based on past Transcendent qualities and backgrounds, but sometimes even the most unlikely of candidates may transcend. We don't know how to transcend, because we are not gods, or God. And neither are they.

- Enves Tan'gari

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When he had embraced her, was he thinking of her, or his wife?

It was something Lise had always wondered about, but never managed to find the chance to ask him.

--

"Lise, be careful. You're playing a very dangerous game here." Lise could sense a rare gravity in Feather's words. There was a stillness in the librarian's face that unnerved her, before Feather touched her hands to her forehead, eyes half shut. "You're better off staying away from him."

Lise tried to shake off the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Feather, you have nothing to worry about," she said reassuringly, though she idly wondered if she was trying to convince Feather, or herself. Grinning, she continued, "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. You know that."

Feather slammed her palms into the counter. "Lise, you must understand that your NightEyes is a stalker."

The priestess sighed. Was that all Feather was worried about? That he would obsessively stalk her? They were easy enough to deal with. Besides, he was trapped in the Maze anyway. NightEyes had no way of following her out to Amatsu, let alone to the rest of Rune-Midgard. "I've dealt with stalkers before. I'll be fine, really."

The sage shook her head in frustration. "I don't mean that kind of stalker," she said, a slight edge to her voice. "I'm talking of a transcendent rogue type of stalker."

This was more than she had expected from the very strange NightEyes. "Amazing! We haven't had one of those in ages, have we? Besides, aren't the Reborn granted gifts from God to aid the world? In that case, I shouldn't have anything to worry about from him, right?"

"Lise, I don't think you fully grasp what I am trying to tell you," Feather half growled before dropping her gaze to the desk before her. "They are granted gifts, yes, but what they use them for is entirely up to their descretion. Just look at almost every single high wizard in history and see if you can truthfully tell me they're aiding the world." Feather paused. "Rogues in our time are tame compared to back then. Every criminal activity you can name, they've done it. So a rogue with special powers…" she trailed off, glancing up at Lise, her unspoken meaning clear

Lise couldn't help but feel it was her duty to defend NightEyes when he wasn't here to do it himself. She had come to know him better over the weeks. He was friendly enough for someone who was essentially trapped, living in what could be considered a jail. He listened to her, he had saved her life! Feather didn't know him, how could she say NightEyes was like that? She nearly opened her mouth with a furious counter before she paused and checked her thoughts once more.

When did she start becoming attached to him?

When did she start feeling pity?

When did she start thinking he was a good person?

Still, she still felt she had to say something. It was still possible Feather was wrong about him. "But he has a wife who he mourns over. He can't possibly be like the others."

Feather sighed and leaned heavily on the counter. "I'm not saying he is necessarily as bad as they were," she said gently with the voice of someone giving bad news that didn't want to be heard, "but…Lise, he might not be as good as you want to believe. Loving one person doesn't mean he hasn't done terrible things to others."

Lise let her mind slowly digest her friend's words. Suddenly, she didn't want to find out more of the ghost, not if it would shatter her image of him. She thought he might be a genuinely good person, if a bit strange, and to be told she was wrong…

And then she remembered their second meeting.

Lise bowed her head and closed her eyes. What was it she had gone to Amatsu to achieve? She wanted to find the truth behind the myth, didn't she? And the truth had no time for emotions and opinions. Her expression hardened.

No more lies. "Tell me everything you know."

--

This story of his, no, theirs, when had it begun? He never remembered being alone, there was always someone, but he remembered a part of this had begun in Amatsu…

Amatsu, Amastu, some place different, he was always wanting to see some place different, and she never objected. He remembered there had been a lot of alcohol at one point. It made her giggly and clingy, so different from the woman he knew. The pink cherry blossoms matched the slight flush of pink on her cheeks.

He grinned, wolf-like.

Even though he didn't like alcohol personally, she really was a lot more fun when she was drunk…

--

Lise can't remove that image of Death on a horse, scythe in bony hand. Even as she shuts her eyes to allow her eyes to adjust to the change in light upon entering the inn, Lise can still see that cloaked figure on the back of her eyelids. Somehow, seeing that card in a Tarot reading was more unnerving than anything else she had experienced.

But she furiously shoved it out of her mind as she began climbing the stairs to meet with Tan'gari's middle man. She didn't have time for fear, for wondering what was in the future. She shouldn't have even bothered with that Tarot reading; she didn't believe in that mumbo-jumbo anyway.

Upon her entrance, Tan'gari's middle man silently pushed a surprisingly thick file across the table towards Lise. Picking it up and quickly thumbing through the pages, information jumped out at Lise. Tan'gari was good, she had to admit. Just glancing through, she see information of the time and places the ghost lived in, the actions he had taken, his friends and contacts, and the significant people he had met. There was a similar section of the file for his wife.

Lise shut the file with a businesslike snap. She would go through it in more detail later. Rising and giving a nod of acknowledgement to the middle man, she nearly turned to leave when a thought struck her. "After seeing all this information," she paused, unsure if she should continue, "what kind of person do you think he was?"

The reply was cold and curt. "Sister, you ask something I cannot answer. You are not asking me what I think." There was a tone of finality, a hint of a pleasure doing business with you as the voice from the crystal ball said, "There is nothing more I can tell you."

--

…But they never got around to getting drunk together with the locals, did they? They were saving that for the night before they left Amatsu. He was sure of that.

And he was still in Amatsu, wasn't he? They had snuck into the Maze two days before their departure.

So that…her being drunk…never happened, did it? It must have been some other time. It was hard, holding onto memories, when his mind kept on changing the story.

He idly chewed the ends of his fingers. He wondered if it was better to try to hold onto the details of his story, or to let it change to be whatever he wanted.

--

Lise visited the ghost in the Tatami Maze several times over the next few weeks, but somehow, she felt as if the gap between them had grown wider. But she knew this time, it wasn't the ghost who was holding himself away from her, but she who was distancing herself from him. The false familiarity that had linked them together had faded away, the bridge over the chasm gone.

Even though her mind told her this objective approach was something she should have done from the beginning, Lise still wished she could reverse this awkwardness. The ghost himself, though, did not seem to notice the change; he still mocked her, recalled faint memories to her.

But even his loving memories of his wife seemed empty to her now. Especially now that she knew who his wife was.

Lise re-examined the paintings of cranes in the room, though her mind was elsewhere. Behind her, the ghost lolled on the table, resting a cheek on his hand while he fiddled with a rosary she had given him. Initially, when he requested to have a look at it, Lise was afraid it would hurt him. But after several minutes of watching him closely inspect the tiny scripture engraved on the rosary's beads with no ill-effects, she focused her attention elsewhere.

"Hey, priestess," he suddenly called. She turned to regard him. Her rosary dangled from the end of the ghost's finger. "What happened to all those burning questions you had? Don't tell me you figured out all the answers."

Lise looked down guiltily, fumbling for a reply.

The ghost absentmindedly licked the tips of his fingers – almost like he wasn't paying attention – giving her a glimpse of his pink tongue and the dull sheen of the stud on it. "It's almost getting kind of boring, you know," he said, tangling the rosary beads amongst his fingers. She struggled to contain a frown of disgust; he didn't wipe his fingers dry before he touched her rosary. "I kind of like hearing what you think, even if it's completely wrong."

Lise jerked her head up to stare at him incredulously. This was the chance she had been waiting for! The chance she thought would never happen! She seized on it immediately, fearing she would never get another chance like this again. "I'll tell you everything I've figured out about you, but only if you'll give me straight answers to my questions when I ask them. Deal?"

She tried not to jump when he was suddenly right in front of her, leaning in. As he spoke, chilly breath tickling her ear, Lise suppressed the urge to shiver. "That doesn't seem fair, priestess," he breathed. "If I tell you everything you want, how will you keep me entertained later? I seem to be getting nothing out of this." She could hear the smile that spread across his face. "You'll need to do better than that."

Lise jerked away and took two steps back, wanting to put some distance between the ghost and herself, hand automatically moving to batt his face away from her. Not surprisingly, her hand simply passed right through him. He did move back, however, though not without his customary wide grin. Shaking her head don't let him get to you Lise looked him straight in the face, unflinching.

She fed him a lie, in return for all of his. "I can bring you news of your wife, and the reverse, if you wish."

After seeing him angry, after seeing him happy, after seeing him wistful, she wasn't prepared for the sheer raw emotion that was so very real. Lise couldn't read his expression, but it wasn't because he was choosing to wear a mask. She watched him abruptly turn aside, and close his eyes. She was patient. She waited. Because she thought this was as close to a true reaction as she had ever seen from him.

He snapped his gaze back at her, golden eye gleaming. Lise was almost disappointed; the mask was back in place. His grin was spread wide, baring his wolf-like teeth, as if he was interested, but for non-genuine reasons. "Haaah, you have yourself a deal, priestess." He seated himself back on the table and smirked. "Give it your best shot."

She paused for a moment, unsure of how to begin. "Your full name is NightEyes Themofast," she began, falteringly, "and you are a stalker. You were born in Lutie, but for some reason, lived in Morroc."

She stopped, carefully examining the expression on the ghost's face. Nothing passed over his face, not a flicker of acknowledgement or denial. Lise continued, voice growing stronger as she spoke, "You are the son of a berserker knight, Lorianne Sharielerin and the alchemist Keilith Themofast. Your wife is the biochemist Adrianna Irylis, and incidentally, she was able to complete your father's work and create homunculi. It was from her work that the Lighthalzen Somatology Laboratory became a uncontrollable haven for monsters." Lise stopped there. There was more to it, but she wanted to see his reaction to the truncated version.

His smirk only stretched wider, the corners of his visible eye turning up. "Congratulations, priestess," he drawled. "You've found out there really isn't a lot to my life. Sorry I couldn't live up to a character's amazing life story."

A character…Lise really wondered if he had deliberately chosen those words. Was that an assertion that he was real? Or was that denial that he wasn't fake?

"I still have a question, NightEyes."

He raised his eyebrow, as if in surprise, but she now knew it was just a farce. How much of what he had presented to her was a lie? Everything he had shown her, how much was it was real? Lise never really noticed it before, but through all the stupid, mocking things he said and did, there were some times when the ghost was calculative, times where he would carefully construct what he presented to her. But which ones were they?

"Your kind, rogues, stalkers, whatever, have a reputation for being immoral, shameless street rats, the lowest of the low." Lise knew her disapproval of rogues was clear; she could feel her brow automatically pinch into a frown and her mouth become a thin line. She crossed her arms, fingers digging hard into her skin. "Are you one of them? Or are you someone different?" She wanted to believe he was the latter.

He stared long at her and she could almost see the thoughts passing behind that façade, but that was the problem, almost, she couldn't see them. Minutes passed, and she refused to back down from that single-eyed stare. After a while, the ghost's shoulders slumped a little as he exhaled, blowing a lock of his fringe up, away from his face.

"You really want to know?"

Did she really want to? Lise wasn't sure. Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't. Would she regret asking when she found out the answer? She couldn't turn back now; she had wanted this, didn't she? She had come this far, no point stopping now. "…Yes, I do."

His eyelids dropped, so all Lise could see was a sliver of gold. "I was one of them."

Lise felt her heart plummet. But her mind took notes. "You were one of them? How about now?"

"I…I…" She had never seen him hesitate about anything before. "…I'm worse, now.

She had been afraid of this. Afraid that Feather would be right about him, that he wasn't as good as she had thought. God, she was such a fool, being led around so easily. She was beyond disappointed. To think he truly was scum like the rest…! Lise was sure her disgust was more than evident on her face.

The ghost's expression twisted at that, and roughly shoved Lise's rosary back into her hands. His visible eye narrowed as he hissed, "You said you wanted straight answers, but I think you wanted me to lie." His glare was accusing, angry, intimidating, but she didn't back down. "I'll tell you something, Lise. In all this time, I've only lied to you once." And then he disappeared, swept away like dust.

Lise numbly clutched the rosary to her chest. She didn't want to believe his answers to her questions. She told herself he had been lying, he admitted it himself. But she had wanted to know, and it really seemed he was nothing like she had believe him to be. His last statement could be a lie, meaning everything he told her earlier could be lies too. But there was something that was telling her that he might not have been lying.

She can see the image of Death on a horse, scythe in bony hand.