A Spoiled Ghost's Day Out

Lucian never had proper coping mechanisms, but then again, ever since his mother passed, he hadn't found a reason to be upset.

Instead, he reinvented himself.

Lucian had taken everything his mother taught him to heart. He learned not to give a flying damn about anyone's opinion, confessed his feelings to Adrian without hesitation, and seized everything he believed he deserved—everything his parents had worked tirelessly to give him.

When negativity crept in, he dealt with it in one of two ways: leaning on Adrian for comfort or brushing it off with his signature bravado. "Fuck this," he'd say. "I'm too rich to mope." And just like that, life would go on as normal.

But now, truth be told, Lucian was fuming. Anger and hurt twisted in his chest like a storm he couldn't dispel. For all the years he'd known Adrian, he never thought the man capable of being so... cold. It was an eye-opening experience, and one that left Lucian questioning everything.

Still, Lucian was smart.

Or maybe not.

Because despite everything, he found himself making excuses for Adrian. 'He became a duke at such a young age. He's probably seen things—experienced things—I could never understand.'

And so, a new coping mechanism was born: rationalizing Adrian's behavior.

'We'll find my body eventually,' Lucian mused, floating idly as he gazed out of the carriage window. 'As much as I dislike Cassian, I have to admit he's good at his job.'

The one thing Lucian couldn't figure out, however, was how to make Adrian love him back—or how to stop his engagement to the princess. Those problems would have to wait. For now, reversing the spell and finding his body took priority.

The carriage rocked gently as it carried them toward the royal knights' headquarters in Solathis. Inside, Lucian hovered across from Cassian, who was engrossed in a stack of letters and documents.

Outside the window, the capital unfolded in a tapestry of bustling streets, towering spires, and vibrant establishments. Lucian's gaze flitted from one sight to another, a flicker of genuine amazement lighting his expression.

"Why do you look like that?" Cassian's voice broke the silence, his tone dry as he continued scanning his documents without looking up.

"Gorgeous? I was born this way."

Cassian rolled his eyes, finally glancing up at him with a bored expression. "Why do you look like you've never been to the capital before? You're gawking like a Nyxithar seeing light for the first time."

"Nyxithar?" Lucian echoed, tilting his head in confusion.

Cassian frowned, clearly surprised. "You don't know what a Nyxithar is?"

Lucian shrugged. "And for your information, I've never been to Solathis."

Now Cassian looked genuinely shocked. "How have you never been to Solathis? You're from the Purple House. You're not just any noble."

Lucian crossed his arms, his lips curving into a small, self-satisfied smile. "Our territory is self-sufficient. We own the largest businesses in the kingdom. Why would I need to come here? Everything I've ever wanted was always at my fingertips. Why tire myself traveling when I can just have a servant fetch whatever I need?"

Cassian gave him a withering look. "You're not just a brat; you're a spoiled brat."

"And proud of it," Lucian replied, his grin widening. "Now, what's a Nyxithar?"

Cassian sighed, returning his attention to his documents. "They're creatures from the enchanted forest. They live in dark caves, completely devoid of light. When they encounter light, they transform into entirely different beings—Luminithars."

Lucian's eyes sparkled with interest. "Really? I've never heard of them before. Have you seen one?"

Cassian's expression flickered with something unspoken—an emotion Lucian couldn't quite decipher. "I've seen them briefly. They don't stay Nyxithars for long. Once exposed to light, they change immediately."

Lucian floated closer, his curiosity piqued. His tutors had never focused much on magical creatures; their lessons revolved around politics, finances, and the basics of magic. As the second son—not the heir—his education had always been less demanding than his brother's.

"I didn't even attend the academy," Lucian muttered to himself, almost wistfully. "Most of my time was spent with Adrian. Thinking about Adrian. Everything about Adrian."

Cassian shot him a pointed look, but Lucian ignored it. He turned his gaze back to the window, his thoughts shifting. Now that he had more time—more freedom—he found himself genuinely curious about the world beyond his narrow, privileged life.

'This might be a good chance to explore a bit.'

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

'Why the fuck does he look like that? He looks... so strange.'

Cassian, through half-lidded eyes, found himself watching the ghost in front of him. Lucian Faelith sat—or rather, hovered—softly smiling to himself. Occasionally, his gaze shifted to the window, lighting up with awe as the bustling streets of Solathis unfolded before him.

Cassian wasn't used to seeing this Lucian.

Lucian Faelith—the spoiled, insufferable second son of the Purple House—looked tame. Almost serene. And the thought that had struck him yesterday crept back into his mind: Lucian looked human. More human now, as a ghost, than he ever had in life.

Cassian hated the idea of traveling alone with Lucian. He'd expected an entire carriage ride of insufferable whining, sarcastic jabs, and obnoxious comments. Yet here they were—silent, save for the faint hum of wheels against cobblestones.

Admittedly, Cassian hadn't been able to join the search party yesterday. The royal knights had their hands full with another matter, so now it fell to him to gather whatever information Reynolds and his men had managed to uncover. The Faelith family deserved answers, and Lucian's body wasn't going to find itself.

But Lucian? Lucian had spent the entire ride quietly marveling at the world outside the carriage. His smile—a soft, unguarded curve of his lips—was something Cassian had never seen before.

It was... refreshing.

Cassian had seen countless creatures and slain innumerable monsters, yet watching Lucian now felt like witnessing something entirely new.

'If he wasn't such a spoiled brat... and didn't like other men... he'd make a fine noble,' Cassian mused, the thought rolling unbidden through his mind. Wasteling. That word suited Lucian more than ever. It wasn't just about his squandered potential—his title, wealth, and striking looks. Lucian had all the makings of a noble who could command admiration and respect.

And yet...

Cassian's eyes lingered on Lucian a moment too long. The way his hair caught the sunlight streaming through the window, the elegant lines of his jaw, the effortless grace of his movements—even in death, Lucian was undeniably beautiful.

Too beautiful.

'What the fuck am I thinking?' Cassian straightened abruptly, tearing his gaze away. His jaw clenched as the thought burrowed deeper, unwelcome and intrusive. Sure, Lucian bore an uncanny resemblance to his late mother, the Duchess Faelith—a woman whose beauty was legendary—but that didn't make this line of thought any less repugnant.

'By the Gods, his Wastelingness is rubbing off on me,' Cassian scowled inwardly, disgusted with himself.

Lucian drifted closer, his translucent form gliding effortlessly across the carriage. Cassian caught the movement out of the corner of his eye but pretended not to notice, keeping his attention fixed on the documents in his hand.

"Why are we going to your headquarters again?" Lucian asked, his voice annoyed but laced with genuine curiosity.

Cassian sighed, setting down the parchment. "My knights already spent an entire day searching for your body. I need to check their progress and gather any updates or clues. As commander of the royal knights, I also have other responsibilities to attend to. I can't sit idly in my manor like... certain people." His eyes flicked pointedly toward Lucian, who smirked at the thinly veiled jab.

"Well, excuse me for having privilege," Lucian quipped, floating even closer.

Cassian leaned back slightly, trying to ignore the way the faint shimmer of Lucian's form made his proximity feel oddly intrusive. The ghost hovered just inches away, studying Cassian's face with an intensity that made his skin prickle.

"What?" Cassian snapped, unnerved.

'He's too close.'

Lucian pointed a delicate finger at him, his expression turning smug. "You have stress lines."

"What?" Cassian repeated, more irritated now.

"Right there," Lucian said, gesturing toward Cassian's forehead. "See? Stress lines. I don't have those. So, I think that's a win for the certain person."

"Go away," Cassian scowled and swatted at Lucian in exasperation. His hand passed through the ghost's translucent form, causing it to waver and disperse like smoke. Lucian yelped in surprise, his body flickering as he darted back dramatically.

"Rude!" Lucian declared, clutching at his chest as though mortally wounded. "You're just jealous of my flawless, ageless complexion!"

"You're truly ageless now because you killed yourself." Cassian shook his head, biting back a chuckle. "And dear Gods, wouldn't last a day in the real world, let alone as a knight."

"Oh, please," Lucian retorted, straightening up. "I'm tougher than I look."

Cassian's mind drifted, unbidden, to the sheer destructive power Lucian had displayed the day before. The memory sent a shiver down his spine. He glanced at the ghost warily. "Speaking of... can you still use magic? Like yesterday, when you were throwing your little tantrum?"

Lucian's expression shifted, the playful light in his eyes dimming. For a moment, he looked almost troubled. "No," he admitted, his voice quieter. "I've tried, but it's not working. I don't know why."

Cassian studied him, frowning at the unexpected vulnerability in his tone. Part of him was relieved—grateful, even—that Lucian's magical abilities seemed stifled in his current state. Yesterday's outburst had nearly leveled the entire Faelith estate. The thought of Lucian as a ghost wielding dark magic freely was a nightmare Cassian didn't want to entertain.

"Good," Cassian muttered under his breath, though he wasn't entirely sure if he meant it.

Lucian's brows furrowed, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the window, his reflection faintly visible in the glass.

Cassian leaned back in his seat, lost in thought. If—when—they reversed the spell and restored Lucian to his body, they'd need a way to contain him. The leash that kept Lucian in check—his blind devotion to Adrian—was bound to fray. And with Adrian's indifference becoming increasingly clear, Lucian was beginning to see the cracks in his fantasy world.

Cassian couldn't fathom what Lucian might become if he fully realized his potential. If the spoiled, reckless noble were to shed his naivety and harness his power with purpose...

Cassian shivered again, this time not from the cold.

'Once we bring him back, I'll have to find a way to subdue him,' he thought grimly.

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

Nyxithars

Luminithars