I was hoping to post a chapter every two weeks, BUT WHEN HAS ANYTHING, EVER, GONE TO PLAN? HAHAHAHAHAHA *falls*

This chapter had a couple issues that had to be ironed out pretty heavily. HUGE fucking thanks to Weshney for not only beta reading and making the story feel so much grander just by tweaking sentences here and there, but also for highlighting/striking every instance of boy, human, and pretty. Seriously, she does amazing work. Go check out her stories!


Chapter 2
Nameless Quandary

"This sky where we live is no place to lose your wings. So, love, love, love." - Hafez


Steady grinding arose from the wheels of the carriage as the three unlikely companions cut across the courtyard. Phantom slipped to the side, positioning the horse between himself and his suitor. It would not do to imply false favor to one he had only just stumbled upon.

If the other boy took offense, he didn't give voice to his displeasure, but a pale gloved hand came to rest on the horse's neck as they walked. Bizarre to think a living being would seek comfort from the dead, but the mare clearly sensed his need as well. She twisted her head and nuzzled her nose against his black hair, the healthy skin of his forehead contrasting against her semi transparent image.

Even with her head turned, her hooves continued their steady thumps against the hard-packed earth of the courtyard. Phantom watched uneasily, waiting for her insubstantial body to fade back to bones.

It didn't.

Unexpected. Unexpected in so many ways…

Teleporting into the courtyard had been a knee-jerk reaction, one he should have reigned in the moment he realized the lone human was fine. But the other teenager's uncertain kindness toward the Nameless had undone Phantom's passivity, drawing him to conversation like a moth to flame. It was remarkable. One of his flighty, easily startled suitors wasn't just treating the horse as its living counterpart, he could actually hear the soundless voice of a Nameless.

For that matter, he hadn't abandoned her in terror and had even asked Phantom to drop his own disguise, apparently willing to overlook horns and other ghostly attributes. Few guests had shown such courage. Leaving while the human remained receptive to her plight and unafraid of Phantom's true appearance felt inexcusable.

If Dora had only followed, she could have dragged Phantom away without offending their guest, his interest in helping a Nameless be damned, but instead she was allowing Phantom the chance to single out this one suitor before it was time. Why? He wasn't even particularly handsome. Was there some political benefits to spending time with this one? What was her angle?

Phantom shot a quick, flustered glare at the tower. Through the curtains, he could see his friend watching. Once his eyes met hers, she winked and faded from sight, vanishing as if she were never there.

Typical.

At the end of the round-about, garden flowers and a row of trees boarded the path through the courtyard. Their presence inevitably attracted will-o-the-wisps to dance and flit among the boughs, but at the moment, the courtyard appeared empty of any other ghost-life. Phantom was sure the same could not be said of the stableyard beyond, but the gated passage separating the two was still some distance away. Plenty of time to explain the basic history of his people before entrusting horse and human into the hands of a passing groomsman.

Phantom cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the legends that suggest ghosts form from your world's fallen?"

The living boy looked at him curiously. The horse's nuzzling had pulled his hair loose from its strict ponytail, and it now fell messily over his forehead. Phantom tried not to notice how the loose, dark strands made the brightness of his blue eyes appear more prominent.

"Of course," the foreigner replied. "Ghosts are a big part of our beliefs." Those eyes glanced Phantom's way for a second before he continued, "We were under the impression, however, that you folks were remnants of human souls, unable to pass on to Heaven or to some other beyond. Not…" He gestured around them, encompassing the courtyard, the dancing wisps, and Phantom's kingdom as a whole. "Not a civilization apart from us."

"Some are those who died in your world," Phantom confirmed. One of the pink wisps fluttered down from the leaves to sample his aura. Wide blue eyes watched the small orb, but Phantom tried to pay it no mind; it would just encourage the playful things. "They remember life on the other side, often to their detriment as they are unable to escape the raw emotions of their death. Others formed naturally or were created by two or more ghosts producing children. We don't have pre-existing memories. This is our first and only life. The Nameless fall somewhere between these two beginnings."

The boy pointed at the animated fire swirling around Phantom's horn. "Like the wisps? Are they… baby ghosts?"

Phantom fought down a laugh. "We would be overrun by infants if they were. No, they're more like… well, I'm not sure what the living equivalent would be. They are like plants, except they move on their own and seem to enjoy coexistence with us."

The human held his finger out to the wisp and tried to call it to him by making an odd psp psp psp noise. What that was supposed to accomplish, Phantom had no idea. The pink wisp kept dancing around Phantom's horn, but another, more violet-tinted wisp floated down from the leaves to investigate. Its aura brushed fair skin, and a goofy, guileless smile spread upon the foreigner's lips.

Phantom stared. His mouth parted, but the words he wanted to say wouldn't manifest on his tongue. How could one of the living be this charmed by Phantom's world when so many of his kind ran screaming from it?

The Nameless horse started bobbing her head, jangling her traces. The wisp abandoned its exploration of the warm blooded being to float down the mare's back. A moment later, it had vanished into the carriage, but the human's focus had returned to their third companion.

"The Nameless, huh?" He ran his hand down the horse's neck again, soothing her back into stillness. His inquisitive eyes slid from the mare to Phantom. "If there is a term for what she is, then there must be others like her."

"Many," Phantom confirmed. "They make up the bulk of our armies and labor faction."

The boy didn't appear to like that answer, frowning in distaste. "Like serfs? Is serfdom still present in this world?"

"Only in certain domains. After all, it is difficult to completely dominate a people who can become more powerful if pushed too far."

If the human found such knowledge at all reassuring, he didn't show it. His frown remained, and it made Phantom straighten his spine, shoulders tensing.

"I am less concerned about those who choose to exist in those domains than I am about those who've had no choice at all," he said, unable to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. "While their condition may not be our doing, the Nameless are not so fortunate. They were once among the living. Upon their death, they forgot who they were. We ghosts are shaped by our identities. Without memories or a name to ground us, someone formed in this way knows only that they have died… and little else. That's why they cling to their remains. It allows them a body for a short while, but it is a false hope, as decay sets in and they are left with naught but their skeleton."

"But this mare must remember something," the boy protested. He patted her neck, letting his palm create a dull thump against her semi-solid flesh. "Look, she has a body now."

"That's not her body. We showed the horses a painted portrait of a living mount so that they may escort you humans to the ball without frightening anyone. This isn't what she looked like while alive; it's merely a copy of what she was shown."

His guest shook his head. "I don't understand. You make it sound as if she's not real."

"She isn't. Not yet." Phantom indicated the visible bones inside her see-through body. "See how translucent her fur and skin are? She can't maintain this form because it's not her own. It's not real, so it fades."

The horse folded her ears flat against her skull. Phantom knew the signs of an angry horse, but upsetting as it was, he couldn't change the facts. Not without help.

The foreigner favored him with a cool side-eye. "It may not be her original body, but it's hers right now."

The mare nickered and jerked her head in sharp nod.

"She may not even be female," Phantom insisted. "She has latched onto the gender because we showed her a mare, but that may fade too. In an hour, maybe less, she will return to an existence where she is just one among millions, a skeleton with no personality."

The mare jerked to a stop and slammed her hoof down upon the earth. "I will not!" she protested. "I can be more! Name me now so I can be more!" She tossed her head up and down, black mane flapping against her neck as she half-reared in place.

Phantom grabbed her by the traces and forced her back down. "Stand!" he ordered. The horse shivered but settled down again, lowering her head.

"Hey," the human boy whispered soothingly as he petted her neck, "hey, easy, girl. You have not faded yet, and do you know why? Because you haven't given up. Your soul is strong, your will is strong. You must have been brave when you were alive to be able to hold onto this form for so long. Don't let fear defeat you now."

More compliments followed. Phantom watched on but didn't try to interfere. A ghost would not have soothed her in such a manner, but if the goal was to give this one an identity, perhaps the living had the right approach. By calling her 'brave' and 'strong willed' she could begin distinguishing herself from the herd.

He's shaping her without even realizing, Phantom marveled.

Slowly, her ears lifted, perking forward.

"I know how uncomfortable this conversation must be," their guest continued, causing the horse's ear to swivel toward his voice, "but I must know all the ways this has affected you if I'm to name you properly." The words were meant for the mare, but they warmed Phantom toward the human as well. A warmth that was cut by the boy's recriminating glance. "Isn't that so?"

Was he being reprimanded? By his own suitor?

Phantom self-consciously touched the base of his horn. The wisp floating near his scalp brushed its aura against his wrist, and he heard its disembodied giggle tinkle in his ears. He shook his head to shoo it away.

"That is so," he replied, forcing himself to sound less stern, "but I should remember to speak more kindly about one who is already suffering."

The boy nodded, his expression softening.

The horse flicked her tail, and her whispering voice echoed a soft, "Yes. Please. Help me…"

"She keeps asking for a name," the human said, sounding more serious. "What will that do?"

Phantom sighed out a breath and urged his horse into a steady walk again. "A name would prevent her from losing herself."

Understanding blossomed across the other teen's face, brightening his expression as he followed Phantom and the mare. "You mean it will give her an identity."

"The start of one. With a name, she can leave her death behind and begin molding herself anew. She'll no longer be a dead horse, she will be," Phantom rolled his wrist in a vague gesture, "whatever you name her. Once she knows who she is, she can begin crafting a new personality for herself, and with personality comes shape and form. If she loves to fly, she may sprout wings. If she wants to fight, she may grow a horn or two. Perhaps even scales. Her core will stabilize and begin to develop. It may gain an elemental affinity, and so flames or dry ice may take the form of her mane and tail. This is her second chance at existence; with no memories to hold her back, she can become anything she wants."

"Wow…all because of a name?" Blue eyes went wide, the pupils contracting to show even more of their breathtaking color.

The shade called to Phantom's core, reminiscent of frost blown tundra and shimmering glaciers. Such a shade did not exist in the eyes of his people. Greens, reds, and the occasional orange, but never blue.

Only once the other teen blinked and tilted his head did Phantom realize the human expected a response. To his chagrin, he had to replay the boy's words in his head before he could formulate an answer.

"Names have power," Phantom managed, just before the pause threatened to become too obvious. Which is why I am not asking for yours no matter how frustrating it is to keep referring to you as 'boy'. "The name makes her real. She is just a lost soul without purpose or self while she remains Nameless. With a name, she will be freed from the chains of her death."

Perhaps a false name would help clarify his thoughts. A placeholder until they could be formally introduced. Better a nickname than to see the boy's blue eyes in his mind every time Phantom thought of him.

"Is that why it's forbidden?" the boy asked.

Maybe Gerald. Or Abraham…No. He looked more like a Daniel.

…Yes. That felt right.

"Forbidden for me," Phantom corrected, eyeing the newly dubbed 'Daniel' from the side. "It is frowned upon for everyone else because we are afraid of the Nameless. They outnumber us, and their potential is limitless." He paused to strengthen his core, bracing himself. "Our last ruler began his existence as one of the Nameless."

Black eyebrows rose toward an equally dark hairline, and Daniel's next words came out sounding awed, "He went from a nobody to leader of an entire realm? That's—"

"He was a tyrant," Phantom interrupted, cold steel in his voice. "He ruled with an iron fist. He used brute power to force us all into submission until the entire realm broke beneath his heel. We bowed to his will out of fear and desperation."

The foreigner drew in a sharp breath. "I apologize. I was unaware."

Phantom didn't dignify that with a response. This noble's son intended to marry into the kingdom; he should have known before coming to Phantom's home. It wasn't Phantom's job to educate his suitors.

It wasn't a topic Phantom wanted to revisit. The fear and desperation of that time had pushed him to act, and its effects still haunted him. He lifted his gaze to the trees and watched the playful wisps flitting among the branches.

"His name was Pariah Dark," he said softly. "One of his worst crimes as king was a process by which he made us Nameless. Any who opposed him were stripped of their names, their identity, their memories. A fate worse than death. He said that only one who knew his torment firsthand and had the strength to rise from the same hell could ever hope to defeat him."

Daniel may not have fully grasped the implications, but he winced.

"As far as we know, no one gave Pariah Dark his name. He distinguished himself as a warrior, and from there he began crafting an identity for himself. First as a skilled swordsman. Then as a leader." Phantom sighed, shaking his head.

"Cruel as he was, there is something to admire about that," Daniel said, voice hesitant. He stroked the mare's neck and stared sadly at her lowered head. "He was like this one, yet he managed to rise above it on his own."

"Yes," Phantom agreed. "His rise to power is truly inspiring, but what he did to us once he was there terrifies us to this day. Any one of the Nameless could follow in his footsteps. In fact, our former king gave names to many of the Nameless in the hopes one would rise to his level and give challenge."

His companion jerked his head up. "He wanted someone to challenge him?"

Phantom waggled his hand back and forth. "He was a warrior with no one left to fight. Of course he wanted a worthy opponent to fulfill that purpose. One by one, though, they submitted. He filled this realm with cruel, powerful ghosts who were loyal, if only for the names he gave them. The Nameless loved him and served without reservation, providing an army of near endless soldiers. Soldiers who could become more the moment he granted one a name."

"So," Daniel said slowly, "because of his actions, you are forbidden from helping the Nameless."

"Yes, and because they sided with him. Many see their suffering as just punishment. That is one reason why I can't…but you can.

Phantom's suitor gave him an askance look over the horse's back. "Me?"

"No one can claim you have an ulterior motive, and a visiting human bestowing a name would be a huge start for this one." Phantom settled his hand on the horse's neck, paralleling the human's placement. "Without a name, she will return to existing as an empty vessel until another opportunity for a potential identity arises. She will continue searching until the end of time unless she is presented with something to form herself around. You can give her that."

Daniel frowned, his brow forming a crease. He stared at Phantom as if searching for something. Phantom kept his posture relaxed, his expression calm, but the intense scrutiny from one who sought his hand made him feel a little flustered. There was something about the passion in those blue eyes, a flash of kindled strength hidden within their depths that called to Phantom.

He was more attractive than Phantom had first considered. Not as dashing as his other suitors, but something about this one in particular awoke a defiant thrill within Phantom's core. Had Phantom been anyone else, any other seventeen-year-old facing down an arranged marriage to a stranger, he would have happily led his guest somewhere private and tried his hand at fumbling together. Phantom would never have a chance like this again once he was married, and he wanted his first kiss to be exciting.

Power slid into his eyes as it so often did these days. He closed them before the last of his disguise could fall away. His inhumane appearance may not have frightened his suitor, but the raw, turbulent power turning his eyes to liquid energy might. It sometimes scared those of his own kind.

He wasn't just a seventeen-year-old. He was King of this world, and his people were counting on him to seal this alliance. He couldn't throw that all away for a little thrill, no matter how open this suitor was to his people. He kept his eyes closed until the power surging into and through his core had calmed.

"So long as they exist without a name," the human said softly, "these ghosts are subservient slaves. Your people don't have to worry about who they are or what they want. The powerful remain unchallenged, and countless others suffer for their security."

Phantom dragged his mind away from his potential marriage and nodded. "You understand."

Daniel flashed a quick, shy smile. "My friends have many, ah, opinions about this sort of thing." His smile faded as quickly as it had arrived. "I understand that this is unfair, but I also understand why your upper-class citizens are afraid. I'm afraid too. What if I name her after a legend from my world, and that inspires her to become a monster who steals and eats children?"

Phantom raised an eyebrow but didn't ask about the peculiarities of human legends. His own kind certainly had a few odd tales of their own.

The road forked, one continuing toward the gated exit and the hill beyond, the other turning at a right angle toward the stableyard. Phantom turned his companions onto the new road, leaving the intermittent shelter of the trees behind.

"Intentions must play some role in who they become," he said hesitantly, unsure himself. "Pariah Dark began his identity as a soldier. His purpose as a soldier and then a warrior was to dominate and defeat the opposing enemy, and so when he became king, he continued to dominate and defeat everyone in his path until we were all conquered."

Daniel winced. "If he had still been in power, do you think he would have tried to conquer my world?"

"Yes."

The simple, blunt answer made the human shudder. "Thank goodness for your new king then. He saved us all."

Phantom tripped and would have fallen if not for the horse's steady presence and his own levitation abilities. He stared at the other teen in shock, but Daniel had turned his head toward the palace and was staring thoughtfully up at the walls. He didn't seem to think there was anything spectacular about what he had said, but the words echoed in Phantom's head.

Not just the realization that this suitor had failed to recognize he was speaking to the very king he mentioned—which was startling all on its own—but the second statement.

Phantom had saved the Ghost Zone from its tyrant, yes, the consequences of which he was still coming to terms with, but he hadn't realized what else his triumph meant. The living had torn through the veil a few short months after Pariah Dark's fall. If they had done so earlier, or if Phantom had taken longer to defeat the prior king, the very war Phantom was trying to prevent with this treaty would have exploded.

Legions of ghosts would have swarmed into the human world under Pariah Dark's command. The humans would have fought back, but they were only mortal; their hollow deaths would bolster the armies of their enemy, more Nameless soldiers flocking to Pariah's banner in a tragic cycle. The beautiful, peaceful land Phantom had glimpsed on his first visit would have been destroyed, and the curious humans he had come to admire would have been killed or forced to their knees like all the others.

Phantom had prevented that future from ever happening.

Phantom allowed himself a small, pleased smile.

It was still on his lips when his odd suitor turned back to him, eyebrows lifted in excitement. "Will the king be upset if I name one of the Nameless?"

It was the excitement that made Phantom hesitate. "No?" he said cautiously. "He wishes to give all the Nameless an identity. That's why the council has explicitly forbidden him from naming one."

The hint should have been obvious, but Daniel only slumped his shoulders and sighed.

"Why do you want to upset the king?" Phantom asked.

"My sister is—" Daniel cut himself off and waved a hand. "It's a long story. My sister doesn't want to marry him—or anyone, really—so I was going to try to get our family banished from here."

Phantom stiffened. His core fluttered painfully in his chest. Phantom may not know if this human was the one he sought, but he had seen enough to recognize a potential friendship. The thought of losing him before Phantom really had a chance to get to know him hurt. "You want to be banished?"

"I want to protect my sister," Daniel corrected firmly. He glared at the ground and kicked the dirt. Sand puffed into the air around his shoes and a rock rolled across their path, skittering and hopping over other loose stones. The horse snorted irritably. "My uncle is forcing her to present herself when she hates the thought of marriage, and the only way I can think to protect her is to make the king look elsewhere."

Make him look at you then, Phantom thought, studying the features of the boy beside him. Phantom had dismissed him before because there had been much prettier humans at his fingertips, but most of those had been frightened of Phantom's home and people. This one had not only heard the voice of a Nameless horse, but had also demonstrated selfless compassion, curiosity, and an interest in the political balance Phantom was trying to maintain. All without realizing who Phantom was.

This must have been what Dora had meant when she said you could not tell by a human's looks what their spirit was like. A ghost's true outward appearance matched who they were because their body formed around their identities. Despite Dora's warning, Phantom had fallen into the trap of believing the more attractive humans would have an equally enticing soul, but if that was the case, this human should have caught Phantom's eye from the start.

Choosing a consort is going to be harder than I realized , Phantom thought ruefully.

They passed beneath the arch leading into the yard, and as suspected, the large quad revealed itself to be a bustle of activity. Nameless horses trotted in circles around groomsmen, held in place by their leads as they worked off excess energy. Carriages queued up for post-use inspection near the coach house, those with damage pulling off to the side. Stablehands ran from one end of the yard to the other, helping to strip the Nameless of their traces, lead the tired skeletal animals into the stables, or complete a variety of other tasks that were needed during such a frantic time. So many guests arriving didn't allow for stagnation.

Originally, when they were still in the courtyard and Daniel was just one of many suitors, Phantom had hoped the grooms would interrupt their conversation and allow Phantom a smooth exit. Now he steered the living teen and Nameless horse to the side, hoping to enter the stables before they were noticed.

Unfortunately, Phantom was no longer a simple stableboy. His people sensed his arrival, either recognizing the monarch's personal signature or alerted by his powerful aura. Heads started to turn in their direction. Phantom could feel their attention, their recognition. A groomsman exited the stable doors nearest the courtyard, red eyes landing squarely on his disguised king.

Quickly, Phantom flared his aura, the order silent but clear.

Stay back. You don't see us.

The horse tossed her head, the groom ducked back inside, and Phantom sensed his servants quickly vacate the whole building. Exiting the stables at the other end to avoid displeasing him, their hasty retreat to the pastures went unseen. The workers in the yard likewise turned away, pretending they were unaware of his every move.

The human detected nothing out of the ordinary, neither sensing Phantom's order nor discerning the brief moment of attention they had garnered as something to do with Phantom, not himself.

"Will you name her?" Phantom asked as he turned back to his suitor. "Even if it will not upset the king?"

"Of course!" Daniel lifted his chin and switched his glare to Phantom. "I said I would, and I'm a man of my word."

Phantom smiled at him, and the other boy's defensive glare softened. His cheeks gained an odd, red hue, and he quickly broke eye-contact with Phantom. Brushing his hand down the horse's neck, he petted the glowing fur in another self-soothing gesture.

"Besides," he said more quietly, "I don't think it's right. Everyone deserves a chance. Pariah Dark may have had the power to conquer everyone, but he chose that path. Denying the Nameless a chance to truly exist is denying them their right to free will. Maybe what she becomes won't be nice by my standards, but it's important that she be free to make that choice for herself. If I can do something to save her from endless suffering, I have a responsibility to do so."

Phantom's smile deepened, softening his eyes. "I agree. They are my people too…but not yours. I had not expected such kindness from an outsider. I hate seeing them suffer, and I had hoped you could help, but I… I suppose I assumed you were like all the rest, deep down."

The red hue on Daniel's cheeks spread to his ears and down his neck. He smiled slowly, the motion of his lips so slight it must have been subconscious. Blue eyes flicked toward Phantom and then shyly lowered to the side, teeth pinching a bottom lip. Ducking his head, he lifted one hand to rub at his reddened neck.

Phantom's core fluttered in his chest, his glow brightening. Daniel still wasn't as gorgeous as, say, Paulina, but… but…

"Yeah, I'm… not like the others," his suitor affirmed. He cleared his throat. "So, uh, what would make a good name for a ghost horse?"

"The Fright Knight rides an alicorn called Nightmare," Phantom said. "You may see him in the stables."

"Night mare is a stallion?" he asked, grinning as he glanced at Phantom again.

Phantom grinned back before redirecting his attention to the stables, double checking that they would be alone. To his surprise, even the horses were leaving the building. That was a little more extreme than he had intended, but he didn't want to confuse things by adjusting his orders. He would just have to hope their absence went unnoticed.

"I believe the Fright Knight wanted a mare. Unfortunately for him, his horse decided to become a stallion."

Daniel snickered. "Amazing. Do you have a preference, pretty one?"

Phantom's eyes widened. He jerked his head around, but his suitor was staring at the horse, not the king. Phantom's aura brightened and he quickly looked ahead toward the stables, acting as though he hadn't assumed the human was speaking to him.

"I wish for any name ," the equine ghost whispered in her disembodied voice. "I can decide what I am after I know who I am."

"Reasonable." Phantom coughed lightly. "Do you have one in mind?"

"Well, I, uh…" He smiled sheepishly. "Not a good one. I Inherited my dad's poor naming skills, and I haven't had very long to think of one."

"If she doesn't like the name, she can reject it."

The horse imitated a nod, lifting her head up and down in quick, jerky movements.

Daniel laughed. "All right, then. How do you like the sound of Bootiful, girl?"

The horse's ear twitched in interest, and Phantom tilted his head, eyeing the other boy curiously.

"Beautiful?" he asked.

Blue eyes met his. Daniel stared at Phantom for a few seconds too long as if he were caught in some sort of spell, but then he grinned. " Boo tiful," he corrected, emphasizing the first half. "Like Nightmare. It's a play on words. Boo is the sound ghosts make in our stories when they startle us, like she did earlier when she frightened me. And beautiful because…"

"Because I am beautiful," the horse finished, her voice gaining emotion. Joy. Excitement. She dipped her head up and down rapidly, tossing her mane. "I am playful. I am mischievous. A human word has shaped me through my name." She half reared. "I am Bootiful."

The human laughed again, delighted as he watched her prance within the confines of her harness. "It's not that grand." He turned sparkling eyes on Phantom. "I think she likes it."

Phantom closed his own eyes to block out the distracting smile and focused with his core. The Nameless were like a soft whisper to his senses. They were emptiness, a vacant vessel shuffling through existence. The horse had been no different, her presence easily overshadowed by the human's oddly muffled aura, but the joy and excitement in her voice was soon being broadcast through an aura so thin and delicate it was like a veil some nobles wore over their faces.

Eyes still closed, Phantom smiled his satisfaction. "Yes. She has accepted the name." He opened his eyes to find Daniel staring at him. Caught in the act, Phantom's suitor looked away, directing his gaze to Bootiful's neck. "She's no longer Nameless," he reiterated.

"She's still transparent, though." Daniel brushed his hand down her neck, and Bootiful happily leaned into his touch. "How do you feel, girl?"

"Like I want to run!" She hopped forward, her traces jingling. "I want to run! "

Phantom laughed. "Stand, Bootiful."

At the sound of her new name, the ghost horse shivered, her transparent skin twitching with delight. She followed the familiar command, however, and stood in place. Phantom began to unlatch her from the carriage, his hands moving expertly over the buckles. He had only been a stableboy, not a coachman, but he had assisted them often enough to understand how to free her from the carriage. Daniel watched with interest but didn't offer help.

The second Bootiful felt the weight lift from her harness, she surged forward, galloping across the gravel and kicking up her heels. Mane and tail whipping behind her, she jumped in place for the sheer joy, bounding like a young filly as she twisted, kicked, and flew between leaps. The other ghosts in the stableyard kept their backs turned to Phantom and his companions, although he could feel their auras set afire with curiosity.

Phantom sighed happily as he watched Bootiful. The Nameless horses had always been painful to work with as a stableboy. Their misery robbed them of the spirit his other charges seemed to have in spades. They were easier to work with, sure, but so painfully dull his core ached for them. He had wanted to help, but a name from a random stableboy wasn't enough to ignite an identity. It flickered out of existence the moment one of the other stablehands refused to use it. Then as king, he had been forbidden from naming his people, a ban that stung like a brand upon his core.

He glanced at the human who had allowed him to find this loophole. Daniel was entranced by the horse's antics, a wide, pleased grin revealing white teeth. Phantom had hoped one of his ignorant visitors would be able to give the Nameless horses a name that would stick, but even Phantom was surprised by how well she had taken to it.

And pleasantly surprised by him .

There was a ball to prepare for, a sister to protect, and a king to charm, but this boy had chosen to devote his time to a random horse who needed his help. He had listened to Phantom's explanations before committing to his promise, learning about Phantom's people and their history before he acted.

He didn't even know Phantom was the king he was visiting. He likely thought Phantom just a servant. This—the shy smiles, the interest in their history, his kindness toward a ghost in need—hadn't been an act meant to charm Phantom, it had all just been…him.

Whoever he was.

Power slid into his eyes again, burning away the sclera and the shape of his pupils. Phantom clapped his suitor on the shoulder. 'Daniel' turned his bright smile on Phantom, and the king squeezed his shoulder as their eyes met. Instead of flinching from yet another change to Phantom's appearance, the human stared at Phantom as if hypnotized.

"Thank you," Phantom said, putting warmth into his voice for the first time.

The other teen's cheeks gained that red hue again. He ducked his head, hiding his striking blue irises behind a curtain of black hair. Phantom's hand twitched, wanting to brush the errant strands away, expose those captivating eyes again.

Don't , Phantom warned himself. Don't get attached. Not until the dance. Not until he's tested.

There was no point in falling for someone he couldn't safely bond.

"What—" Daniel cleared his throat. "What do we do about the carriage?"

Phantom pulled power from his core and channeled it through his hand. He lifted his palm, and the stagecoach rose at the gesture, levitating above the ground. Blue eyes widened, and Phantom smiled, pleased. He motioned his glowing hand toward the carriage house, and the buggy floated obediently in that direction. The coachmen and stablehands floated out of its way without glancing in their direction.

"Oh," his guest murmured.

It was showing off, but Phantom didn't care. He was feeling a little reckless. If this young man was truly a potential suitor, it was time Phantom began treating him as such. Phantom couldn't allow himself to become attached, but there was no rule against having fun with a prospective groom, was there?

Phantom deliberately slid his hand down the other teen's arm and folded his fingers around Daniel's warm ones. The overcoat and gloves the noble wore prevented their skin from touching, but his eyes widened, and he stared at Phantom as if transfixed, barely breathing despite most likely needing to.

Phantom smiled invitingly and gestured at the stable with his chin. "I can show you how to brush her down, if you like."

"Yes," he said, exhaling the word. "Yes, I'd—I'd like that."

Phantom's smile deepened. He allowed his eyes to linger on the blue pair in front of him as he led Daniel into the stables. Without a core, Phantom had to make this suitor understand his intentions without relying on his aura. The other man's attraction to Phantom had been obvious from the start, but now Phantom wanted him to see it was mutual. He tried to show it in the crinkle of his eyes, in the brief squeeze of his hand.

Daniel opened and closed his mouth, eyes still wide and disbelieving, but he allowed himself to be led into the stables. Phantom winked at him as they walked through the threshold together, and the other teenager smiled like an idiot. He looked besotted. Utterly entranced by Phantom's open interest in him.

Phantom didn't understand how he could possibly have so much power over this stranger when the noble thought him nothing more than a stableboy, but Phantom would be lying if he said it wasn't thrilling. Again, the prospect of fumbling together rose up in his mind. His core flared, and his lips tingled as if already anticipating his first kiss.

"Boo!" Bootiful charged into the stables from behind, startling the human into a jump. She swatted Phantom with her tail as she passed and nickered a playful, "None of that now! You will not be dishonoring my namegiver in this place."

Phantom laughed and slipped his hand from Daniel's. "I think we have made a chaperone for ourselves."

His suitor spluttered, skin flushing a deep red. "Dishon—she, uh, you—I—"

His flustered confusion was adorable, but Phantom forced himself to turn away. "Come on," he called over his shoulder as he followed Bootiful to her stall. "The task will go faster if we work together. You have a ball to attend, do you not?"

After a couple frozen seconds, Daniel ran to catch up with the ghostly pair. "I would rather stay here with you two," he admitted. He stared at Phantom's face, eyes searching and trying to capture Phantom's gaze again. "I don't think anyone will miss me there."

Phantom smiled knowingly. "You may be surprised… Besides, what about your sister?"

Daniel winced. "Oh. I—bugger all. I need to get back. She—"

Phantom looped his arm through his companion's and pulled him close. Blue eyes blinked blearily at him, but the warm body was loose and relaxed, almost melting into Phantom's side. Phantom stared back for a solid second as his core pulsed. There was something about his heat, his closeness…

Phantom cleared his throat. "If you help me brush Bootiful down, I will help you with your sister. Deal?"

Daniel frowned a little but didn't pull away. "What can you do to help?"

"You'll see. Do we have a deal?"

He hesitated. Then, slowly, a smile spread on his lips and brightened his eyes. "Deal."

If the realm outside had brought tales of Hell and the Underworld to Jazz's mind, stepping into the Ghost King's palace reminded her of secret nights in Vlad's library, forbidden tomes unfolding before her eyes as the moon shone through a crack in the heavy curtain. Such a foreign environment should not summon fond memories, yet a sense of welcome helped her to finally draw in a full breath.

Perhaps it was the lighting?

Torches illuminated the vestibule, but their flames were green, their radiance unnaturally bright. Interiors were supposed to be dark and dreary without chandeliers to light the center, yet Jazz could see perfectly. It should alarm her, not make her feel welcome.

Around her, courtiers congregated in groups about the large passageway, apparently reluctant to enter the ballroom despite the limited entertainment in this grand foyer. Quiet conversation, excited whispers, and the occasional laugh filled the space. Ghostly servants wove among the humans, refilling drinks, offering appetizers, and performing other such tasks. No one else seemed to notice or care that the palace felt almost…cozy.

Throughout their journey, Jazz had used Danny's reaction to this new world as a distraction from her own emotions, so the act of turning her head in search of her brother felt almost habitual. For weeks he had been her rock, a steady anchor during the preparations for this ball. Even in the heart of her dread, he could make her smile. If he found this palace as soothing as she did—

Danny wasn't behind them.

Quickly, Jazz faced forward again. Her heart raced in her chest, throwing off whatever witchy enchantment the palace had over her mind, but she fought to keep her steps steady, her expression neutral. Escorted as she was on Vlad's arm, she couldn't allow their uncle to notice her alarm. His attention was on Jazz, the ball, and whatever political schemes he had orchestrated prior to this event. That's where it needed to stay, as far away from Danny and his disappearance as possible.

But where was he?

Her anxiety refused to settle until she met her mother's eye. Jack may have been excitedly pointing at the intricate scrollwork along the walls, but Maddie had noticed Danny's absence. Jazz could read the tension in her clenched jaw, the stiffness around her eyes. However, like Jazz, she didn't want to alert Vlad to Danny's disobedience. Shoulders falsely relaxed, she smiled at her husband's excited rambling and nodded along as if nothing were amiss.

Jazz exhaled a slow breath. They didn't see eye-to-eye on numerous subjects, but she trusted her mom where matters of safety were concerned. Finding and rescuing Danny didn't weigh on Jazz's shoulders alone this time, assuming he even needed to be rescued. So long as he didn't get caught starting fires or whatever other mischief he had planned, no one could accuse him.

But where was he? When had he slipped away?

She had been so distracted by her upcoming ordeal, and her parents with the ghosts' architecture, that no one had noticed Danny leave.

A few hallways branched off from their carpeted path; perhaps Danny had simply wandered down one to explore? Jazz let her gaze fall on one such corridor as they strolled by, but the darkness beyond its archway instilled a sense of foreboding so dense she nearly shuddered. She couldn't imagine venturing down such a dim passage herself… but Danny did always enjoy playing with fire.

Vlad patted Jazz's hand as they passed a group of nobles. "Brace yourself, my dear. I believe you have caught the eye of several eligible men."

Reluctantly, Jazz forced her mind from her brother.

She kept the hand resting on Vlad's forearm relaxed but clasped her free one into a fist, pressing it against her skirts to hide a betraying tremor and stifle her fidgets. She didn't need to look to feel all the eyes on her, but it wasn't only those they passed who glanced her way. Familiar faces turned to smile at the king and his niece, Vlad's presence as her escort ensuring Jazz would be seen and recognized as a desirable prize for nearly every social climber.

Mentally, Jazz recited quotes from her favorite philosophers to keep her thoughts from spiraling. She loved her yellow dress, she loved the braids that wove her orange hair into a complex crown atop her head, and she loved feeling beautiful, but every admiring glance thrown her way by humans and ghosts alike twisted her stomach.

Did this count as torture? What she wouldn't give to be back in her dad's study, managing these people through correspondence, her father helping her with calligraphy and laughing at her replies. Safe. Home, where she was appreciated for her mind.

"I doubt the king is among them," she whispered back. "Should I discourage their interest?"

"No," Vlad decided. "We cannot be sure of this night's outcome; it would not do to burn any bridges. If the king should fail to see reason, we will need to form an alliance with a powerful family to counteract the influence of whomever he chooses."

Jazz bit the inside of her cheek to prevent a response Vlad would not care for. Once more, she twisted her head and sought Danny's entrance through the doors, but her hopeful gaze failed to summon him. Only the desirous regard of the Baxters' heir and the speculative glance of his mother met her eyes.

Jazz knew her duty; she smiled coyly at Dash before facing forward again. Only once he could no longer see her face did she allow the expression to bleed into her neutral mask.

She enjoyed dancing, she enjoyed the intrigue that wove its way through every conversation, but she didn't want to be there. The prospect of marriage had always made her sick. Danny thought she only needed to dissuade the Ghost King, but there were other men Vlad could wed her to if King Phantom proved uninterested. Jazz was but a means to an end, Vlad's key into the Ghost Zone's political landscape.

If he couldn't wed her off to the throne's advantage, she would be as useless to her uncle as Danny. Perhaps less so. For all his unsuitableness as an heir, Danny was still a man; he could serve Vlad's needs outside garnering a politically favorable match if he would only bend a knee and act as Vlad's willing pawn.

Vlad guided Jazz toward the double doors at the end of the carpet, the courtiers parting around them like rocks in a stream. In normal circumstances, a king would be unable to cross such an antechamber without flocks of sycophant's crowding his every move, but most kings didn't have Jack Fenton in tow. The exuberance of Jazz's father kept the parasites at bay, his excited ramblings about the foreign architecture a natural bane to nobles. Ever dutiful, Maddie kept her husband moving toward the ballroom, allowing Vlad and Jazz to advance without interference.

A ghost resembling a younger, stouter version of Vlad's own herald floated before twin doors. He eyed Jack warily as Jazz's father rushed forward to inspect the embossed design along the violet wood. So bumbling was he in his excitement Jazz wanted to hide her face, uncomfortably aware of how much attention was on her and her family. Maddie pulled Jack back by the arm and guided him to the side, letting Jazz sigh in relief.

Vlad approached the ghost, the presumed Master of Ceremonies, and Jazz stepped forward with him, required to stay attached to her escort. The herald must have recognized Vlad for he bowed to the human king, holding his purple robes tight to his body.

"Your Majesty," he greeted.

"Announce us," Vlad declared haughtily, glancing not at the herald but at Maddie who was placing a gloved hand on Jack's cheek. "I would like to greet His Majesty before the ball begins."

The herald bowed again. "Your Majesty, you are, of course, welcome to enter the ballroom at any time, but as I have informed your nobility, our king has yet to take his seat. The announcement of your arrival will be received by the Council and those ghosts deemed worthy of attending, but no others."

Vlad stiffened, his arm tensing beneath Jazz's hand. "I beg your pardon? Is your king not the host of this gathering? How is he not already in attendance?"

Jazz studied the ghost's face and noted a subtle twist in his lips, a narrowing of his eyes. What it meant, she couldn't be sure, but she filed it away for later consideration. The ghost king may have enemies as well. If the king were not ready, the Master of Ceremonies should have protected the king's dignity by disguising that error beneath pleasant formality.

"He is in attendance, Your Majesty," the herald assuaged smoothly. "Somewhere. Perhaps making sure his guests arrive safely. He takes an active approach to these things. You will agree, I am sure, that our world is quite hazardous."

Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose. "Such tasks are to be left to soldiers," he muttered under his breath as though scolding the wayward king.

Jazz remembered that her potential suitor was, himself, as young as her little brother and fought to keep her expression neutral.

Vlad pulled his hand away from his face. "Very well," he decided, "we will amuse ourselves. I don't suppose any members of the council can be called upon?"

"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty, but I may pass a message to one of the king's advisors. In truth, he had hoped for just this opportunity to speak with you."

Vlad arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And who is this worthy gentleman?"

"A Champion who goes by the name of Plasmius."

Jazz glanced at her uncle and thought she saw a spark of recognition brighten his eyes. "Ah. I see. Is there anywhere I might have a private word with this Champion?"

"The library," the herald replied promptly. "Wait but a moment, and I'll send a page to direct you."

Jazz perked up, mind already wandering down aisles of literature composed by an entirely different species. They spoke the same language; was their alphabet similar as well? Or would she need to find works that were already translated?

"Excellent. Please convey my respects to His Grace and inform him I will await his company in the library."

The Master of Ceremonies bowed. Without further acknowledging the servant's presence, Vlad turned and approached Jazz's parents. Jack rocked up and down on the balls of his feet while Maddie kept a calming hand on his shoulder. But her eyes weren't on Jack or her king; they searched the room just as Jazz's had earlier for Danny's late arrival.

To Jazz's utter disappointment, Vlad handed her over to her father. Jack beamed as she took his arm, but Jazz couldn't return the expression.

"It is a private meeting, my dear," Vlad soothed. "The moment I finish meeting with the king's advisor, I will guide you to the books myself."

No, Jazz thought bitterly to herself, you will insist on parading me around to the other families in hopes of strengthening your alliances, and I will be expected to flirt and mingle while promising nothing.

Aloud, she said, "Of course, Uncle."

"'Your Majesty'," Vlad corrected. "When we are in public, you must address me as 'Your Majesty' or 'My King', remember?"

"Mhmm," Jazz hummed, nodding. Following her mother's example, she scanned her surroundings for black hair.

Vlad heaved a put-upon sigh. "Madeline, please keep your family out of trouble. If there is anyone I can trust to keep them in line, it is surely you."

Jazz wished Danny were there just so he could stick his tongue out at Vlad for them both.

Maddie nodded, still not looking at him. "I will do my best, Your Majesty."

"Oh, Maddie, My Dear, of course you may call me by my first name. We are friends, are we not?"

Jazz closed her eyes and prayed for patience.

"Oh, more than friends, Vlad." Maddie briefly tore her eyes away from their search and smiled at Vlad's elation. "We're family by marriage. Brother and sister."

Vlad's expression crumbled.

Jazz delicately hid her smile behind a gloved hand.

"Wonderful," Vlad deadpanned.

They moved farther away from the ballroom, but it wasn't long before a ghost approached their small group and bowed to Vlad. He was too old to be a page in Jazz's opinion, and yet his livery was unmistakably that of a royal messenger, sharply tailored with golden tassels pinching his unvarnished black coat shut.

"Your Majesty. I have orders to escort you to our library. Would you please follow me?"

Vlad arched an eyebrow. "So soon?"

"If I understand correctly, the Lord Champion has been awaiting your arrival to the palace for some time."

"Ah! Well. I mustn't keep a potential ally waiting, hmm?"

Were it Jazz's place, she would have argued Vlad was a king; none should have the power to summon him. But there was a brightness in Vlad's eyes, and he wore a wide, almost graceless smile. Was he trying to look innocent, or was this how Vlad actually looked when excited? She had never seen her uncle appear so… guileless.

After a brief farewell—and an admonition for Jack not to chisel the walls for a sample—Vlad followed the page down a torch-lit hallway. Jazz watched him go, feeling oddly annoyed. She hated not knowing all the facts. People were predictable once you understood their basic motivations. The sudden change in Vlad's behavior, however, made no sense. She was missing something.

"Do you think he even noticed?" Jazz asked her mom.

"Noticed what?" Jack responded instead, already back to studying the walls.

"Jack," Maddie said softly, "Danny is missing."

Jack finally tore his attention away from the structural design of the palace, narrowing his eyes as he refocused on his family. "Do you think it was a ghost?"

"More than likely," Maddie muttered. "Look at where we are."

Jazz squeezed her father's arm. " Or ," she said firmly, "we left him behind while you two were so distracted. It's much more likely he wandered off and got lost than that he's been kidnapped at a highly exposed social gathering. There are a lot of hallways branching from this antechamber. You know how he is; he might be trying to find the kitchens or stables."

Jack scoffed. "You think that's more likely? That Danny got turned around wandering this castle? He inherited his mother's innate sense of direction! One of these ghosts must have seen a chance to start trouble and took it."

"Danny is the king's nephew," Maddie concurred, following Jack's lead like always.

Jazz rolled her eyes. "You two just want to make trouble. You want an excuse to go looking for him so you can investigate what these ghosts are really planning."

"Well…" Jack mumbled.

"Jazz, there is more to this treaty than they are admitting," Maddie insisted, "you must see it."

"If the treaty averts a war against a kingdom full of people who can shoot liquid fire from their hands, I say let them keep their secrets. Besides, the ghosts are not the ones I'm worried about." Jazz gestured to the nobles milling together. "All the most dangerous players of our game have gathered for this ball. They're maneuvering for advantage and willing to stab each other if it means getting a leg up on the competition. Even our king is scheming. Who is this Plasmius, and why is Vlad meeting with him in private?"

"Oh, that's just Vlad doing king things, Jazzy," Jack refuted cheerfully. "It has always been like that. He plays people as if they're chess pieces. It makes him happy."

Jazz looked in exasperation at her mom, but Maddie shook her head. "The ghosts represent the biggest threat to our kingdom, Jazz. Even if this treaty is everything they claim, their ulterior motives are still in doubt, especially now that Danny is missing."

Jazz closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe through the frustration. Danny was the only one who sided with her when it came to Vlad. Their parents were still blinded by their old friendship and wouldn't see his scheming for what it was.

"Very well," she said slowly. "Compromise. You two may go searching the castle for Danny. Meanwhile, I will go to the library."

Maddie arched an eyebrow. "But not to read."

"Well, you're not really looking for my brother," Jazz countered.

Maddie pursed her lips. "He will be our first priority."

"I'm sure he will be." Jazz stood on tiptoes and kissed her father, then slipped her hand off his arm and grabbed both of her mother's, placing a kiss on Maddie's cheek as well. "Don't set the palace on fire, please. If Vlad has his way, this may be my home someday."

Both of her parents wilted at that, but their hands were tied just as much as her own. Flashing them a quick smile, she let her fingers slip from Maddie's. Her mom cupped Jazz's cheek in response, lightly stroking the side of her face with a thumb before kissing her forehead. Jack was far less restrained, bending down to wrap Jazz in a gentle hug—for him. Jazz winced at the damage he was undoubtedly doing to her dress and hair.

"Don't let Vlad catch you spying," he whispered into her ear.

Jazz started. "You—"

Jack released her and offered his arm to Maddie. "Let's go find our son."

Maddie rested her hand in the crook of his elbow and smiled up at him. Jack reacted with a sappy grin of his own. He led his wife back the way they had come, and the nobles hastily parted around them. It might have seemed respectful if one didn't know Jack's reputation. Despite his and Maddie's close relation to the king, no one of high standing wanted to be seen socializing with Jack Fenton .

Unlike Jazz, who, rather than following straight after her uncle, was frequently forced to pause and socialize as she was approached or hailed by political rivals and allies alike.

There was something to be said about crafting an unsuitable persona…


The Fentons: Makers of mischief

I really enjoy writing Jazz here xD I may be projecting a little bit (author is aroace) but there's just something so charming about her being so outwardly perfect and graceful while inside she's quoting philosophers and trying not to vibrate out of her skin lol. She will continue to play an important role in this story, specifically in discovering and undermining Vlad's plans. Beware the quiet ones ;3

As much as I struggled to get Phantom's scene straightened out, I hope the progression of Phantom's interest feels natural. He has MANY suitors to consider, and unlike Danny, he's comparing all of them to each other. So, while Danny can look at Phantom and be like "WOW, you are so pretty" (and then later be absolutely flabbergasted when said pretty boy holds his hand), Phantom will look at Danny and be like "you're cute, but you're no Paulina" until Danny starts to distinguish himself from the others in his own way.

Also! I have been informed that Bootiful is the MVP of this fic xD

Speaking of MVPs, here's some of Weshney's art!

Here's a link to King Phantom as little baby man in his adorable little outfit, omg, and also the design for Phantom's crest: weshney/729046585013649408/from-the-bs-server-much-shit-was-born?source=share

Danny saw it as a star, but it's a flaring core. Like a supernova, Pariah's reign collapsed on itself, and Phantom's is taking its place. It's a beginning. I'm thinking the crest will evolve with Phantom as he becomes more accustomed to kingship. For now, it's a basic design meant to represent hope and new beginnings.

Pls also give the artwork she did earlier a like & reblog if you have a tumblr! It was a parody scene that got out of hand, and I love it so much xD The scene is when Phantom warns all the ghosts in the stableyard to back off: weshney/729746845045293056/for-dreamwraiths-invisobang-story-ballroom?source=share

With all that said, I still intend to post every two weeks. The rough draft is complete, but it still needs revision and editing. Much as I want to get it to you guys as quickly as possible, I can only tell this story once, so I want it to be told well. This next chapter will dig more into Danny's family history. We'll learn more about the Fentons and where they stand in all this.