Sel'kura (No Seriously, What Even Are You, Vivienne?)

LOCATION: DREADMOOR OUTSKIRTS – GHOST SIGHTING ZONE (WHICH IS TOTALLY A THING NOW)

It was foggy. Creepy foggy. The kind of fog that makes you question life choices. Gideon had a lot of those. Mostly involving cursed toast and ghost girlfriends.

He held his chalk like a dagger and his bag like it was going to do something useful.

The Ledger floated beside him, ominously calm.

> "You are alone. For training purposes. Your grandpa said so"

"This is literally the opposite of a team-building exercise."

> "That is the point."

Of course it was.

He crept forward along the gravel path, eyes darting everywhere. Every tree looked like it wanted to grab him. Every gust of wind sounded like a scream.

And then—

"You forgot your gloves."

He jumped and did a spin that would make a dancer weep.

Vivienne stood behind him. Hood up. Eyes glowing faintly. Like a badass.

"Stop doing that," Gideon hissed.

She smirked. "Doing what? Being helpful? Looking amazing in the fog?"

"Yes. All of it."

> "She is not supposed to be here," the Ledger muttered.

Vivienne rolled her eyes. "Relax, pages. I'm moral support."

> "You're emotional instability in high heels."

She looked down. "I'm not even wearing heels."

> "I rest my case."

---

The ghost appeared twenty minutes later.

People screamed.

Well, Gideon screamed. In a manly way. Sort of.

It emerged from a rift in the air — like a curtain being pulled back from reality. Tall. Clawed. Dripping shadows.

And it was growling.

Like actually growling.

> "This one is not in the accounts," the Ledger said, its voice losing that usual smug tone.

"That's becoming a pattern."

The ghost tilted its head. Then its eyes landed on Vivienne.

And it froze.

It made a sound. Not a growl. More like a word. A name.

"Sel'kura."

Vivienne didn't move. Didn't blink. She just whispered, "No one's called me that in a long time."

Gideon looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "You want to explain why Captain Shadow Over There just name-dropped you?"

She smiled. But it wasn't a happy smile.

"Later."

The ghost lunged.

Gideon flung a seal. It bounced off.

Vivienne stepped forward.

"Stop."

The ghost hesitated. Its smoky limbs trembling. Then it spoke again—in a language that made the air vibrate.

The Ledger made a confused sound.

> "I... I do not know that dialect."

Gideon paled. "You don't? You know every ghost language. Even ancient Hallowscript."

> "That is not possible."

Vivienne's eyes flared. She raised one hand. The ghost stepped back.

Then she whispered something. Soft. Sad. Powerful.

The ghost let out a cry—almost like pain—and began to unravel. Slowly. Like it had been waiting for permission to go.

And then it vanished. Gone.

Gideon stood there, jaw loose.

"Okay, no. No. You do not get to just Jedi mind trick a rogue ghost without some kind of explanation."

Vivienne turned around. "You okay?"

"I might be emotionally compromised."

> "There's something wrong with the Balance," the Ledger said, its voice deadly serious now. "Like... very wrong."

---

LOCATION: HARROW ESTATE – LATER THAT NIGHT

Gideon paced in his room like a caffeinated squirrel.

Vivienne sat on his bed, casually flipping a knife.

"Sel'kura," he said again. "That's what it called you."

"It's a nickname."

"From a ghost. That my magic chalk couldn't even scratch. And the Ledger went full confused-for-the-first-time mode."

> "I did not go full confused. I went... temporarily puzzled."

Vivienne grinned. "You're both cute when you panic."

Gideon threw his hands up. "Do I even want to know who you are?"

She winked. "Probably not."

Then she tossed him the knife. He caught it. Barely.

"We should train more," she said. "The ones coming next won't stop just because I ask nicely."

> "Or because you flirt," the Ledger muttered.

Vivienne smirked. "That's just a bonus."

Fade out.

Cue dramatic music. Or maybe just Gideon sighing loudly.

Either works.