Perhaps having parents isn't all it's cracked up to be.
I returned to the bakery and passed by Mrs. Gregor, who offered only a timid protest. I peeked into the back room behind her.
The space was built of stone and clay, like most structures in the city. The oven roared with heat, and beside it stood a weeping boy, no older than thirteen or fourteen, bruised and battered. Gregor loomed over him, muttering to himself as he kneaded dough.
"Can't you at least pull the bread out before it burns to a crisp, you useless brat? How hard is that? Everything's already prepared! You can't even handle this one simple task? I should disown you!"
The boy whimpered and then saw me—his eyes widened in terror.
"L-Lady! Y-You shouldn't be here!"
I exhaled sharply. At least he was still alive.
"I'm here now," I said coolly. "Gregor, stop beating your family."
"Vita!" he stammered. "I—I thought you said—"
"I know what I said. Can we just… not hit people anymore? That whole beating thing really took the edge off my appetite for violence."
"Of course, Vita! It won't happen again."
"Good. Perfect."
Things were going surprisingly well. If I played this right, maybe I could keep things under control. Maybe I could help… but how? By killing bad people and turning them into servants?
"Father?" the boy asked hesitantly. "Who is she?"
"This is Lady Vita!" Gregor barked. "Show some respect, boy!"
"... Isn't she the girl who keeps stealing from you, Father?"
"Exactly," I interjected proudly. "So show some respect!"
He blinked, confused. Mission accomplished—at least temporarily. But what next? I couldn't hide this forever, could I? Eventually, someone would notice he was dead.
"Boy, take these loaves to your mother," Gregor ordered. "And cover your face."
Brilliant move, Gregor. The child scurried out, leaving us alone.
"... Now what, Vita?"
"I don't know yet. I'm thinking."
I wanted to talk to Linn and Rowan. They were reliable. They knew me, liked me, fed me—they were the closest thing to family I had. But... I was a Soulbinder. Linn wouldn't turn me in directly, but even criminals feared necromancy. I needed their help—but I didn't know how they'd react. This… terrified me.
My other options were to stay low or flee the city. Fleeing was a terrible idea. Outside the walls, without the protection of guards or Temple Knights, monsters roamed unchecked. Without knowledge of survival beyond the streets of Skyreach, I might last mere hours. Still, could I stay? Gregor was pale as death itself—he wouldn't go unnoticed forever. Could I pretend we weren't connected? Naturally occurring undead did exist, after all. Though rarely did they rise from a single death—it usually took war. If only I could truly bring him back… but how?
"... Anyway, first things first. Gregor, tell me more about necromancy. You said your uncle was a Temple Knight, right?"
"You want me to speak of it, Lady?"
"I've never studied it. I was born this way."
He frowned.
"A natural-born necromancer? That's unusual. Isn't Soulbinding considered an offense against the Mistwatchers? Why would—ah, forget it. If you say so, then so be it. But I don't know much. Only about the undead. There are many types. The most basic are residues —zombies made from corpses, mindless, wandering and attacking anything alive. Unless the corpse belonged to something powerful, they're not dangerous. Skeletons are similar—just bones. Then there are revenants , stronger beings who retain more of their former selves. They remember who they were, what they could do. I suppose that's what I am. I think I'm harder to kill now, though I have no urge to harm the living. Most revenants do, though—I don't understand why."
"Great. Just let me know if you suddenly feel the urge to kill someone. Killing people is wrong, okay?"
"Understood, Lady Vita."
"What about ghosts?"
"Oh! Ghosts are far more powerful. I don't fully understand them. My uncle said they resemble residues but behave oddly. He said the Temple Knights deploy entire legions to deal with them. Sometimes it seems excessive… until the ghosts slaughter every knight sent after them. Many wield potent magic—often chaos magic—and grow stronger if left unchecked. According to him, if left too long, a ghost could consume an entire island."
That sounded… very bad. I briefly wondered if I could control one, but quickly dismissed the thought. First things first—what to do with Gregor? No idea. I couldn't take him back to the hideout. Linn and Rowan would freak out. I needed to test their tolerance for my monstrous nature before doing anything reckless.
"Alright, Gregor. Stay here. Keep pretending to be alive. Don't forget to breathe. If you start showing too many signs of being dead, stay inside. No one must suspect."
"Understood, Lady Vita!"
"And no more hitting people!"
"Never again, Lady Vita!"
"Don't let your family gossip about me. Say I'm a wealthy customer or something. Farewell."
"There's a back door, Lady Vita!"
I nodded, followed him through, grabbed some bread, and slipped away through the familiar shadows of the city. Every passerby set my nerves on fire. Did they know? Were they guards? Temple Knights? Was this the end? Not yet—at least nothing had happened. After confirming no one followed me, I finally reached Linn's hideout, which we affectionately called the Shack .
It was a rickety wooden structure, unlike the stone buildings of the city. Inside, little more than sleeping mats, a nearly broken clay oven, and a dozen hungry orphans. The real treasures were hidden below, but first, I had to deal with the children.
"Vita! Vita, Vita, Vita!"
They swarmed me, tugging at my shirt and cloak. Not long ago, I was one of them—five years older, yes, but once just another child surviving on scraps, barely existing, never giving, never working, never thinking—only relying on someone kinder and stronger than me. She would have kept helping me indefinitely. Choosing to help Linn was my decision, though it came late enough that I doubted I could break free of my lazy, parasitic habits. Something stirred deep within me—a disgust toward my old life that forced me forward.
"What did you bring us, Vita?"
"Bread." I handed it out. Always welcome, though the money meant for them had saved my life instead. Another handout. "Is Linn around?"
Several nodded. One pointed down.
"Thanks." I moved a bed aside, opened the poorly concealed trapdoor, and descended. The hideout wasn't hidden well, but Skyreach was vast—hundreds like this existed, and no one had the patience to search them all. It was simply a dug-out cave carved from rock, not pretty, but large enough for two beds and another room.
"Hey, Linn?" I called.
"Vita! Hey! You're here!"
Linn bounded up, grabbing me from the ladder, spinning me around before setting me down. Her usual grin stretched wide across her face. Strands of red hair peeked from her scarf, paired with her boyish clothes full of pockets—every bit the image of a thief.
"… Hey, Linn." I grumbled, wiping oil stains from her hug—likely from maintaining her knives. "Uh… we're friends, right?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Of course we are. What's wrong, Vita? You look… scared."
"I am scared." I replied flatly. "Honestly, I'm terrified."
"Whatever it is, I've got your back. You kids mean everything to me."
I frowned. She wasn't that much older—maybe twenty? Yet she insisted on treating me like a child. I wasn't that short!
"I know. It's just… this is serious."
She shrugged.
"I'm listening."
I swallowed hard. Here it was. I probably shouldn't spill everything at once.
"Uh… turns out I'm a natural-born mage." I ventured.
Her eyes lit up.
"Seriously? Vita, that's amazing! Best news in months! But… something went wrong, huh?"
"Yeah. Several things, actually."
She paused, studying me closely—the maternal gaze of someone accustomed to raising street orphans. Did she think I stole the money? Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it.
"… I believe you." She finally said. "You're smart enough not to lie about something like this. And you know how serious this is, right? Bodies pop up all the time, but if the guards find out someone was killed by magic, they'll investigate. I'll help you, Vita. I've killed before. No one will betray you. Did you hide the body?"
Damn. Damn. This was the moment. Should I tell her? Could I trust her? She'd supported me for a year, helped me when I had nothing. She was good, and she wanted to help—but this… this could endanger everyone.
"Well…" Fear gripped me. Would she kill me? "I kind of…"
"Just tell me, Vita." Her silly grin returned. "I've got your back."
"I brought the body back. And made it act alive."
Silence. Linn's smile faded. Oh no… should I grab her wrist? Hug her before she realizes I could rip her soul out? She was fast, but maybe by the time she realized what I could do, it would already be too late. She was strong, arrogant—she didn't know how dangerous I was. If she attacked, I could—
"Fascinating," she murmured, more intrigued than hostile. "Guess the Church lies. Necromancer, huh? Complicated, but manageable. Congratulations, Vita."
I swallowed dryly. That was it?
"But we should get rid of your corpse-friend before the Temple Knights catch wind. Better safe than sorry."
"The problem is… he's a revenant."
She tilted her head.
"What does that mean?"
"He's still himself . Like, he's running his bakery again. As far as I know, he's still the same person—except he listens to me . And he's… a walking corpse, I guess."
"Woah. Creepy." She frowned, heading toward the ladder. "This is messy. We need to get him out before anyone notices."
"Not that easy! His son saw me. He knows my name and saw Gregor acting weird—"
She glared, brushing hair from her face.
"Vita, you went into the bakery with him ?"
"I—I had to! Gregor was beating his family! If I hadn't intervened, he'd never change!"
"So you just left him there? Vita, Rowan and I both agree the Temple Knights can sense magic. Whenever they're involved, we stick to mundane methods or they hunt us down. If their detection magic can identify necromancy…"
Oh no.
"I didn't know that."
She sighed, ruffling my hair with that silly grin.
"I know you didn't, kid. So we leave now. Come on."
I obeyed. Linn ran fast, but waited for me. Soon, we reached the bakery's back door. I pushed in, finding Gregor baking normally. He looked up.
"Vita! Be careful! That damned thief is right beside you!"
He rushed forward to "protect" me. I stepped in front of Linn, arms spread.
"Stop! She's a friend!"
He halted, clearly unhappy.
"As you wish, Lady Vita. How may I assist?"
Linn stepped forward, narrowing her eyes as she circled the revenant, visibly annoying him.
"You sure have him wrapped around your finger, huh? Alright, we're taking him to the sewers and getting rid of him."
I gaped.
"You really think that's the safest option, Linn?"
"That's what I think." She confirmed. "Not ideal for the boy, but if we take him, and he talks, people will assume he ran off with you. Provided they don't find the body. If they do, they might suspect you killed him—but better than them knowing you're a necromancer, Vita. We'll hide the corpse."
"Forgive me, Lady Vita," Gregor interrupted. "If dying serves you better, I'm willing. But I dislike this foolish woman ordering you around."
I looked up at him, throat tight. I didn't want to kill him again. I barely survived the guilt the first time. Could I coldly murder him again after he only tried to help?
"... I don't think I can do it, Linn." I whispered.
She sighed, placing hands on my shoulders, bending slightly to meet my eyes—years of malnutrition made me shorter than her.
"Vita, sweetheart, I'm sorry it came to this. If you need, I'll do it. But we can't let… whatever he is, wander the city. If people suspect a necromancer exists, chaos will follow. You're not safe, right?"
I nodded, swallowing tears I couldn't afford to waste.
"Alright. Follow us, Gregor. Back door."
"Yes, Lady Vita."
We crept through alleys toward the city's edge. Skyreach sat within a crater, making its outskirts higher than the center. Sewage management was a nightmare—drains dug deep to prevent contamination in wealthier districts. The designated disposal area lay at the city's edge, where filth was pumped outside the walls. There, Gregor would die again—buried in muck, unseen.
While I still had him, I needed information—especially about those hunting me.
"Gregor, tell me about the Temple Knights. Your uncle worked with them, right?"
He huffed.
"My uncle was a Temple Knight! Honored warriors of the Church. They protect people like you and me from—uh—"
"People like you and me?" I scoffed.
"They fight more than the undead. They serve as elite soldiers, clearing dangerous creatures, waging wars, maintaining order. They're the hands and feet of the Mistwatcher. Practically everyone follows him, right?"
Linn snorted.
"Please. I care nothing for those zealot laws. One day they say the Mistwatcher wants this, the next that. Sounds like they invented a god to justify hoarding all the metal."
Gregor frowned.
"Miss, when's the last time you spoke to someone over forty?"
"Huh?"
"The Mistwatcher is real. We've all seen him. Ask anyone who lived through the Collapse. He tore a star from the sky and suspended these islands with his will alone. Go to the island's edge, Miss. If the fog clears, you'll see him."
Silence followed as we absorbed his words.
"Easy for you to say," Linn spat. "Like we street rats can afford trips to the edges."
He shrugged.
"Live long enough, you'll see him regardless. In ancient times, people worshipped false gods—invisible ones, believed only because others said so. Some still do. Fools. The Mistwatcher is real. Whether you like him or not, everyone knows it."
We walked the rest in silence, giving me time to think. Everyone knew of the Mistwatcher—even street urchins like me. The Church claimed each floating island was his creation. Unlike Linn, I believed he existed. I just hated him for creating such a wretched world. I'd never worship something that shaped my miserable life.
"We're here," Linn announced. Unnecessary, as the stench nearly knocked me out as soon as she opened the hatch. We climbed down into knee-deep sewage. I followed her in silence.
"Here's good. Vita, should I finish him?"
"Finish him." The words sounded like kill him , and I didn't want that. He was awful, yes. Deserving of death? Perhaps. But holding his soul—feeling its fragility as he fell—scared me. His obedience frightened me, too. Thoughts clashed in my mind: Keep him! Use him! This is what you need! With this power, you can escape this hell! For sixteen years, I begged, stole, and scraped to survive. Now I held power that made others obey. Could I really throw that away?
I turned to Linn—the woman who gave me food without asking for anything in return. Who protected me instead of handing me to the Church. I couldn't endanger her. She was the only good thing in my life.
"No. I'll do it myself, Linn."
I approached the repulsive man. Placed my hand on his chest, reaching for his soul. I felt it—an extension of my own essence, now fused with his. A new soul, different from both originals. Threads stretched from it, wrapping through his body like parasitic veins. His muscles, once his own, now obeyed this foreign force. He faked breathing, yet his diaphragm never moved—guided by invisible strings.
I inhaled deeply. He smiled.
Then I pulled away.
He collapsed like a discarded doll.
I held his soul in my palm.
Instinctively, I swallowed it.
The soul slid down, not into my stomach, but into me—my essence unraveling his like pulling loose thread. He dissolved, becoming part of me. I staggered, lighter on my feet, stronger. Not physically—but my soul demanded more from my body, and granted it.
Small changes. But for someone like me, they meant everything. A faint smile curled my lips.
"What… did you just do?"
Linn stared, bewildered, wary—afraid.
"I can feel you now," she whispered. "You suddenly appeared on my danger radar."
"Danger—?" I coughed. Soul residue? "Danger radar?"
"It's a skill we learn. I can roughly gauge how dangerous someone is. Before, you didn't register at all. Now, even weak, I feel you. That doesn't happen for no reason. What did you do?"
I swallowed. She'd come this far. I owed her the truth.
"Uh..." I muttered. "I… ate his soul?"
Her jaw dropped.
"You ate his soul?"
"I panicked! It was instinct!"
"You have a soul-eating instinct !?"
"I don't know! Maybe?" What else was I supposed to do with it? "Please don't hurt me!"
I crouched, bracing for a blow. This was it. I was a monster.
Linn slumped, sighing heavily. Her tension eased.
"Vita. Hey. I won't hurt you. I've always had your back. Me and Rowan will figure this out. This… might even be useful. I don't understand Temple Knight magic. Hell, I don't understand any magic, and I'm glad for it. We'll take it one step at a time. But this stays between us."
I nodded. Of course. I didn't want to die.
"We'll find a way to use this, Vita." Linn added. "Don't worry."
"... I pulled a man's soul from his body," I whispered numbly. "The first time, I didn't even mean to. What if I did the same to you? To Rowan?"
Linn frowned.
"Gregor was a fat fool. I'm a sharp, charming thief queen. I doubt whatever you did to him would work on me. Magic has limits, you know? Pay attention, and you can resist. Even someone like me, who knows no spells, can resist. It's just a matter of training. Maybe he was too busy beating children to defend himself—or just plain incompetent."
"... I'm not a child anymore." I muttered.
Linn glanced at Gregor's submerged corpse.
"No. I suppose you aren't. Let's go. Find a place to wash up, and get Rowan to help for a few days. He'll know better how to help you."
I shuddered and threw my arms around Linn with newfound strength—not much, but she gasped anyway. She hugged me back tightly, keeping me from breaking down.
"Hey, Vita?"
"Hmm?"
"I know this is emotional and all… but can we do this later? We're covered in shit."
Right. Yeah.
We cleaned up. Linn forbade me from approaching Gregor's bakery, ordering me to stay in the Shack. She promised to return with Rowan. For safety, she urged me to hide below, away from the children. Thinking too deeply about why that was wise gave me nightmares.
Still, I had help. Things weren't as bad as I feared. Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to improve.
Ha. Right. Funny one, Vita.