No, if I thought about it, I didn’t save Luka. All I’d done was a little talking; Luka had done all the fighting and escaping himself. I was basically just an innocent bystander. Whether Luka died or survived was barely my fault at all.

[How should I address you?] Luka asked.

I wasn’t in the mood to tell Luka any fake names after I’d already spit up so many secrets, so I said, [You can pick a name.]

[It’s difficult to come up with an appropriate alias without knowing more about you.]

If he thought that was enough for me to talk about myself, he had another thing coming.

But Luka didn’t push for answers. Instead, he plucked a few long stalks of grass and fashioned them into a simple humanoid figure. He attached it to a stick and placed it next to the fire so it cast a long shadow. Then he planted his sword in the ground at an angle, so I could see his impassive face reflected in the blade.

[Dolls, fire, reflections, and shadows are common mediums,] he said. [Are any of them suitable for you?]

I dubiously extended my soul body out, and sure enough, I could feel the shape of their containers; however, they didn’t feel as sturdy as Luka or the monsters in the moon path realm. The grass doll, for example, seemed terribly fragile, as if it would disintegrate at a single touch, and when I reached for the fire, it flared up so wildly I thought it might burn itself out.

In the end, I chose to try Luka’s reflection, as it seemed the most robust. A moment later, I was looking out at Luka as if through a window. However, my “body” didn’t just consist of a human form, but extended to the rest of the world of the reflection. I experimentally willed the reflection to darken, and it did. How interesting.

[What do I look like to you?] I asked.

Luka studied me seriously.

“You still look like me,” he replied. “Just… slightly unfamiliar, somehow.”

He sounded much nicer now that he wasn’t coughing up blood.

Since he wasn’t dying, I figured I was in my rights to prevail upon his time.

[You said you’d introduce me to Kosmonymia.]

“Yes.” He considered his words for a moment, before he said, “Kosmonymia is a world that can host the history of other worlds. That is why spirits like yourself can continue to exert your unique powers after manifesting here, and why realms such as the moon path realm can be reconstructed within Kosmonymia.”

It was clarifying and unhelpful at the same time.

[How can Kosmonymia host other worlds?]

“Because Kosmonymia is the land of records. History has power. The artifacts of other worlds carry that history with them, from which the framework of understanding can be reconstructed, which then allows the reproduction of power. Hence, a ‘frame’ that carries the power of another realm can be created in this world. Many of our technologies make use of such frames.”

So in Kosmonymia, history could create an interpretation of the world, which could then create phenomena. Wasn’t that the opposite of how things usually worked?

Still, that wasn’t the important point, so I moved on.

[Do you often have visitors from other worlds?]

“No. Rather, we travel to Fantasm Worlds, which the prevailing theories say are reconstructions of other worlds that have been recorded by the Scribe. While artifacts can be transferred to and from Fantasm Worlds, Fantasm spirits who make it into Kosmonymia are much rarer.”

This explanation sounded too cool to apply to my world. What was there worth recording about it? Why not just let it rot in hell? Plus, I felt like a spirit ought to be a more interesting and powerful existence than a normal person like me.

[How did Kosmonymia get its name?] I asked.

“It’s the name given by the Tripartite that governs the world. The Tripartite consists of the Scribe, who records all of existence; the Signifier, who interprets the records; and the Secret-Keeper, who governs what lies outside understanding. They gift all named beings with their own Record of Existence and World Proof. If you have a name, they should have welcomed you to this world already.”

[What exactly is the Record of Existence?]

“It’s a collection of your personal titles. Since titles are created from the tracks of your history, you could also say it’s a personal interpreted record of the weight of your existence.”

[How can the weight of your existence be measured like that?]

“Titles are awarded for one’s way of living, or by one’s noteworthy deeds. These are known as lifestyle and achievement titles respectively. The more achievement titles you have, the more existential weight you have. Every three achievements, one can undergo a ritual at the temple to mark a formal increase in weight; however, beyond that, the exact mechanics of the Tripartite’s calculations are unknown. The phrase ‘weight of existence’ itself only emerged because of certain descriptions authored by the Tripartite.”

So in summary, the more titles you had, the better. Did I have any achievement titles? There were only a couple in my Record that I thought might qualify.

[Do World Proofs count as lifestyle or achievement titles?] I asked.

“Neither. World Proofs are a special category.”

I didn’t get it. [If titles already encapsulate your history, then what is a World Proof for?]

“A World Proof is a unique title granted to a named being, belonging only to you. It is the summation and culmination of your life, and it is the ultimate proof of who you are. Unlike other titles, a World Proof grows and changes alongside the one who possesses it. Children begin with World Proofs such as [Child of Gilles and Nenet].”

This was all quite abstract. I probably needed more practical experience to understand this better.

[When your World Proof changes, do you lose the abilities of the previous Proof?]

“Oftentimes, a new title with equivalent or diminished abilities will be granted.”

Good to know that the utility of [Honest Man’s Deception] could be kept to some degree, even if I changed as a person.

[Why were you in the moon path realm?]

“First, I wanted to find where my friend had been sent or sold before the records could be destroyed,” Luka replied. “And second, I wanted to release any spirits being held there before they could be transferred somwhere I didn’t know. I released everyone I found, but… Cyprian Duval, the man chasing me, interrupted me halfway through the escape. I don’t know how many truly escaped.”

What a busy guy. No wonder he’d been acting with such urgency.

[Was that monster one of the spirits you released?]

Luka hesitated.

“No. It… was an entity that responded to my initial call when things started going wrong.”

[Your summoning didn’t put it under your control?]

He shook his head. “My ability doesn’t work like that. I wasn’t the one who brought it into this world, though. It was already resting in the moon path realm; all I did was call it forth.”

[Ah,] I said. [So you disturbed it like you disturbed me.]

Luka blinked slowly.

“Since the moon path realm seems to govern secrets and hidden grudges, it would make sense that you were resting there. I apologize.”

I really wished he would explain a little more. Why would it make sense for me?

“However, if I may ask,” Luka continued, “if your origin lies in the moon path realm, why do you not hold the same hostility towards ‘revelation’ that the other denizens of that realm do? ”

Such a good opportunity to ask.

[In your perception, what am I like?]

Luka hesitated.

“You remind me of fire, but… other than that, everything is shrouded. Your domain seems to concern communication and obfuscation in some way.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. [And what do you think that says about me?]

“It seems to me that you normally wouldn’t reveal yourself, and that you prefer not to be seen,” Luka ventured, watching me unblinkingly. “As such, I can’t help but wonder why you chose to talk to me, and to help me. Is there something in Kosmonymia that interests you?”

It was a funny question coming from someone who’d recklessly grabbed onto me without knowing a thing about who he was summoning. You should’ve thought to ask earlier, you know?

Speaking of foresight.

[Do the Scribe’s records ever concern themselves with the future?] I said.

“What do you mean?”

The nice thing about talking to smart people was that you could easily lead them to fill in the gaps themselves just by insinuation. So I didn’t need to answer Luka’s question before pursuing my own inquiry.

[Putting it in different words, do you believe there is such thing as fate?]

Luka’s answer was quick and firm.

“No. Fate is created by human hands; therefore, nothing is inevitable. Why?”

[You aren’t the first person from Kosmonymia I’ve met.]

How should I spin this. Sometimes direct was best, right?

[Is there a reason why a prophet would believe that you, Luka, must be killed, no matter what?]

In the following silence, the fire crackled, sparks drifting into the darkness before winking out without a sound.

“I’m sorry. I can’t answer that,” Luka said. “Still, I have no intention of bringing calamity to this world, or any other.”

That was weirdly specific. [Nothing worse than the fellow you awoke, I presume,] I joked.

Luka didn’t laugh. Tough crowd.

“Since you haven’t acted on that prophet’s words, then may I presume that you also do not place weight on a fixed future?”

Everything that had happened since Acacius summoned me had exceeded my common sense multiple times; if fate turned out to be real, I wouldn’t even be able to say I was surprised anymore. But also, if people could see the future, how come Acacius couldn’t save himself from me?

When I didn’t answer, he ventured forth with another question.

“May I ask the name of that prophet?”

Uh, Luka, you’d just left yourself wide open, you know?

[Why? Are you afraid he’ll make things difficult for you?]

Judging from his microexpressions, the answer was yes.

I couldn’t resist.

[Don’t worry. He’s dead.]

“Dead? How?”

[I killed him.]

Luka stared at me expressionlessly.

[He was quite the annoying one, calling for me and disturbing my rest,] I added. [So noisy without saying anything helpful at all.]

I could have gotten away with deflecting like I had been this whole time, but then I wouldn’t have gotten to see Luka furrow his eyebrows and struggle over what reaction to have. I guess that just showed what kind of personality I had, but was it really my fault that he’d presented such a perfect opening?

Anyways, it was a harmless joke. A joke. So it was fine.

[Don’t think about it too much. We had other reasons for our conflict,] I said. [But as a result, I’m quite interested in Kosmonymia now. And you.]

I made his reflection tilt its head, resting its chin on one hand.

[A World Proof is an encapsulation of one’s life and identity, right? If you want to reassure me that this prophet’s worries hold no water, why don’t you tell me the name of yours?]

Luka’s ensuing silence told me that I’d put him in a considerably difficult position.

“I… am sorry. I can’t answer that either.”

[And here you were saying that you wanted to repay me.]

It was a shame. I’d been hoping I could score another World Proof to imitate and use. Acacius’ was so useful, after all. I mean, it was a knife that I could summon anywhere, anytime; I’d never need to worry about being unarmed again. What was there not to like?

Luka shook his head. “A World Proof isn’t something shared so lightly.”

[Even with someone who saved your life?]

“Even then.”

Was it a cultural norm that I didn’t understand? Lucky me, this identity was convenient for asking about these things like a total alien. [What about titles? Even with their symbols tattooed all over your body, is it customary to keep them to yourself?]

“It depends on the title. Some people like to brag. Some titles are difficult to share.”

[Hmm. But aren’t World Proofs also a type of title? Why is the attitude towards them so different?]

They couldn’t possibly be all as awkward to share as mine.

In response to my question, Luka gave me a level look.

“A title is what you do. A World Proof is who you are. You are known by your titles, but you are understood by your World Proof,” he said softly. “To share it is to bare yourself completely. And there are few who would want to be seen through by a stranger.”

His piercing red eyes glowed in the firelight. Shadows moved across his face.

“Do you want me to understand you?”

I didn’t want anyone to understand me.

Luka nodded at my silence.

“There’s always someone strange enough to proclaim their heart openly to the world,” he said. “But not everyone can afford such a thing. If there is something else I can do for you, please ask me that instead.”

Something else… Should I take the risk?

[That man. Cyprian Duval,] I said slowly. [Do you know his children?]

“I’m familiar with one of his sons.”

[What is your relationship?]

Without hesitation, he said, “We’re enemies.”

Tch. And after I’d gone out of my way to dig a grave for him, too. Did he have no appreciation at all?

[Your grudge with Cyprian doesn’t concern me, but don’t kill his children.]

Luka frowned.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that either.”

I made his reflection narrow its eyes. [It seems that a life-saving favor doesn’t mean much to you.]

“I am sorry for disappointing you,” he said. “However, Acacius Duval has been my enemy for a long time. I said I’d kill him, so I will.”

Wow. So we were going to be enemies after all.

Obviously, that was bad for me. But I didn’t like the idea of encouraging someone to break their promises either. He said he’d do it, so he would. What was wrong with that kind of reasoning?

Guys like us should stick together.

So maybe I should just kill him.

Luka pursed his lips; the focus of his gaze moved to something I couldn’t see.

“It is also true that you have helped me a lot,” he said. “So… I can wait before killing him. If that helps.”

He was kicking the can down the road, huh. It didn’t solve the fundamental problem, but I had no objections to waiting until I was better equipped to handle it.

[Then I’ll change my request. Hold back from killing him for the next two years.]

“Two years…”

Luka rubbed his fingers together, thinking. He seemed reluctant to wait so long. In the end, however, he capitulated.

“For two years, I won’t actively target any of the Duval children. But if they endanger myself or someone I care about, I will still fight back. Is that acceptable?”

[That is sufficient,] I said. If I couldn’t figure out how to kill Luka or defend myself in two years, I probably deserved whatever came for me. [I believe this concludes our exchange as well. If you have anything else to say, speak now.]

Luka thought about it.

“What qualities would you look for in a summoner?”

What was with this subject change? Was he really asking about this right after arguing with me about killing me?

[Maybe people who keep their promises,] I teased. [Why? Don’t tell me you wanted to know if you could summon me again.]

“May I?”

His marvelously thick skin aside, I didn’t understand why he’d want to forge a connection with me like that. What did he think I could do for him besides some quick talking, and the ability to come up with good lies on the spot? And that was before asking the question of if I was willing to be yanked out of Acacius’ body at the drop of a hat.

I did want to keep an eye on him, though. As long as he wanted to kill me, it would be good to understand his skills. Plus, if Acacius actually had a legitimate reason to want him dead, then killing Luka might fix my lifespan issue as well as serve as my good deed for the day.

Well, if nothing else, well, Luka was willing to answer questions from someone who knew nothing about this world.

[If the opportunity arises, you can try calling for me again.]

Luka looked up. “What would you want in return?”

[Another conversation, perhaps,] I said. [Or a favor.]

“I understand. Then, about how to call for you…”

I couldn’t help him figure that out.

“As mentioned, I’m not skilled with names. For now, would it be alright to address you as ‘Shadow’?”

I almost laughed.

[What kind of half-hearted naming scheme is this? What am I, a dog?]

“…I’m sorry.”

[It’s fine. Nothing wrong with being a dog,] I said lightly. [If someone loves you enough, they’ll take care of you even when the world is falling apart.]

Luka shifted uncomfortably, leaf litter crinkling under his clothes. “Would ‘Ghost’ be a better name?”

[Sure, why not?]

“I’m sorry.”

[Stop apologizing. Ghost is fine.]

“I will try to think of a better name.”

[Okay, then you’ll have to let me know on that day.]

“Yes. Thank you for your help once again.”

I smiled faintly, waving my hand before emptying myself from the vessel. My awareness of Luka and his surroundings disappeared as I poured myself back across the tether to Acacius’ body.

Like a rubber band snapping back into place, I jerked awake with a jolt. A crackling fire cast its dim light on the nearby trees; the moon shone through the foliage overhead. I tried to sit up, only to be hit with a terrible headache that made me groan and roll over on my side, covering my eyes.

“Acacius!”

Cynara’s voice lanced sharply through my aching head. “Please, quiet down,” I muttered.

For once, Cynara listened to me without talking back. “Are you alright?” she asked quietly. “You started bleeding from the nose.”

I touched my face, and sure enough, my fingers came away wet. “My head hurts. Do you think it will explode if I open my eyes? It definitely feels that way.”

“What happened? Why did you faint again?”

Although I appreciated her worry, I really hated that she was asking me more questions. Did I seem like I had any answers?

“I was dealing with something troublesome, that’s all.”

“But we’re already out of the moon path realm. Did… something follow?”

The great thing about Cynara was that she was a smart person, too, just like Luka.

“Are you any good at summoning?”

“I know enough theory to get by,” she said slowly. “Why?”

“If you get in trouble in the future, you can try calling for ‘Ghost.’”

“What kind of name is that?”

“Is it not descriptive enough?”

“It just seems lazy. How many spirits do you think would respond if I shouted something like, ‘Hey, ghost, come here’?”

“That’s true. Then you can try calling for Acacius’ Ghost. Heh.”

“How is that funny?”

“Forget it. Anyways, good job on starting a fire. At least you can do that.”

“I can do far more than this.”

“Really? Can you navigate us back home, then?”

“You can’t either!”

“It’s sad. Look at the state of education these days.”

“How have you gotten even more annoying since you finished the ritual?”

“All things considered, I guess the probability of fixing your personality isn’t that high either.”

“Ugh, out of everyone I could have been stuck with…”

Despite her grumbling, though, Cynara seemed relieved that I was awake. She kept starting conversations with me despite my headache. When it finally eased and I felt good enough to sit up and look at the campfire, she didn’t want to listen to my suggestion of taking shifts to rest.

“Who knows what you’ll get up to if I close my eyes,” she said.

“Okay, then I’m sleeping first.”

“…How am I supposed to stay awake without someone to talk to!”

“What do we even have to talk about?” I snapped. Although it was good to gather information, the more we talked, the harder it was for me to hide my lack of knowledge without lying. And I was tired. “We’re not close.”

“And whose fault is that,” she fired back, but she fell silent.

When I brought up the idea of resting again, this time, she listened.

I took the first shift, ruminating about the strangeness of this world and how much I didn’t understand. Was it connected to my world? Even if it was, why was Acacius able to summon me?

If I was here, could the people I knew be revived in Kosmonymia, too?

As long as the possibility existed, I shouldn’t abandon this life, right?

If that was the case, there were things I had to do.

First, I needed to resolve the death curse Acacius had given me and guarantee my life. For now, that meant taking care of Cynara and using Acacius’ name. There seemed to be a lot of strange and scary powers in Kosmonymia, so I also needed to learn enough to become strong enough to kill Luka if necessary.

Second, I needed to evaluate the world. Find a safe and resource-rich place to live, a way to absorb common knowledge, and a method to make a living. The Academy Cyprian mentioned before seemed like a good candidate for achieving all three.

Third, I needed to understand how the Devouring Exchange worked. If it was possible to summon others here, I wanted to do it without sacrificing an innocent or consigning the people I cared about to living as someone who sucked. However, I was severely lacking in knowledge of the world. Even if I could obtain information about the Devouring Exchange from the Duvals, I had no clue how to work with it.

So, that made my temporary goal clear: live as Acacius, and attend the Academy. As long as I was living as Acacius, I couldn’t let the Duvals suspect that he had been replaced. It seemed like it would be safest to keep others at arms’ length, or at least, to use Acacius’ personality even if I wasn’t sure the Duvals were there. Consistency and details like that mattered when putting on an act.

If you’d asked me before what I thought I would be doing in my next life, this certainly wouldn’t have been it.

Despite my restless thoughts, when Cynara woke up to take watch, I fell asleep quickly.

It felt like no time at all before I was being shaken awake.

I swatted the arm away and pushed myself up. Usually I woke up faster than this, but the instincts of Acacius’ body didn’t match my own. His post-sleep muzziness had me squinting in confusion at my surroundings.

The sky was just starting to lighten. Cynara was sitting next to me, face neutral. She must have woken me up. Across the campfire from us was Cyprian Duval. Although he’d changed into a clean set of clothes, I could still see a few cuts on his face and hands.

How did he find us? If it came down to it, would running away be harder than I thought?

I pushed myself to a sitting position, brushing leaves out of my hair, and gave the Duke an inquiring look. I wasn’t sure if I should greet first.

“Did you rest well?” the Duke said.

“About as much as can be expected,” I said.

He nodded. “Cynara has informed me of your quick thinking and adaptability, which allowed the two of you to navigate the moon path realm while it slipped out of control. You’ve done well to survive.”

I chanced a glance at Cynara, but couldn’t read anything from her face. “Thank… you.”

Was she the type to be this nice to Acacius? That didn’t seem right.

Sure enough…

“Still, there is an important matter that must be accounted for.”

Cyprian pulled out a strip of black cloth, with a familiar pattern stitched across the center.

It wasn’t the cloth that I’d reproduced using [Honest Man’s Deception], but the original.

“How did this fall into the hands of an enemy — and one you should have killed?”

What should I do about this?

Chapter 5 Back to Index