I met a ghost for the first time when I was six.

I spent three years calling them my imaginary friends.

Then, I witnessed my first death and learned otherwise, diving into a world of secrets, of shame. No matter what, no one could know. My life depended on it.

But, like all secrets, it was found out. He found out. I lost friends, so many friends, and I wore a tragic blanket of pain that I didn’t shed for centuries. I never lost the memories of my first friend, either. They are the first memories I ever had, for that fact.

I met a ghost for the first time when I was six.

I stumble through the depths of a ravine. Distant, jagged cliff tops overhead hide me from the sun strangled by storm clouds. There is no canopy to protect me from the heavy rain and snowflakes pelting my frozen, bare skin. Only a few sparse trees occupy the violent gouge in the earth, all vegetation dead and offering no shelter. Water rushes down the center of the chasm, the powerful swells erode the pebbled ground beneath my numb toes.

For reasons unknown, I follow the downhill flow and stay off to the side of the rushing, unnatural river, but the water level grows and grows and grows. A rumbling shakes the earth and my teeth chatter harshly in response. My feet don’t hurt as much as they did before, but they’re cold, so cold. I have to run, the water is coming, it’s coming.

It bites at my ankles and I stumble, reaching out for a branch. My feet go out from beneath me and I catch the limb, sharp bark scrapes against my palms.

It snaps.

The river captures me, dragging me beneath the white capped tide kicking and screaming, inviting water into my lungs and fatigue into my already exhausted bones. I’ve been walking for so long. Why was I walking, where was I going?

Why am I alone?

I manage to get my head above water, but the spinning world of furious storm clouds, dead things and ancient stone blurs together and the edges of my vision pulse darkly. My heart throbs in my ears, deafening everything else.

Everything except for a voice.

“Take my hand!”

And I do.

A small hand takes a firm hold of mine.

They pull, and the river pulls back. What’s left of my clothes threatens to drown me and I cry, the burning tears are the only heat to grace my body. Shards of rock and decimated branches tear at my body until the river finally releases me. I collapse atop a cold, stiff body and horror freezes my cracking veins until the person moves.

Not just a person, a kid. Like me.

They scramble to their feet, pulling me up with them. “Are you okay?!” They shout over the wind and I try to nod, shivering uncontrollably, but my neck is stiff and my body won’t listen. I reach up, absently pulling at my hat. It’s still on and I almost sob with relief. “Come on, this way!”

I take a step, crumpling. Cold hands take a firm hold of my arms, preventing me from falling backwards into the water. Before I can say anything, the kid hauls me up over their shoulder like I weigh nothing. They trudge across a flat, inclining stone, slipping every so often but not falling, carrying me to safety. We finally settle beneath a small overcropping that barely protects us against the rain and snow, but there’s distance between us and the river.

Carefully, they set me down on the pebbled ground. The chasm’s atmosphere is dark and black hair is plastered to the kid’s face, making it hard to see them properly. “Better to find high ground then try to outrun it. Are you alright?” They ask, straightening to a height that is twice mine but gangly and unmistakably child-like, if not on the cusp between teenager and adult.

I nod, teeth chattering.

“Can’t you talk?” They ask, and I nod.

“I, I’m okay, th-thank you. Wh-what’s your n-name?” I manage to say through the thick cold. The kid kneels beside me, blanketing my body and taking the brunt of the wind. I open my mouth to protest but they wave me off, then tuck locks of jet black behind their ears. A pale face with a ceramic like quality and endless, gray eyes are revealed, not unlike the thunderous storm overhead. I’ve never seen a kid like them before, like an ancient person in a child’s body.

They chuckle, and their own teeth start to chatter as they fend off the outside world. “You can call me Los. What’s yours?”

I frown, trying to remember but with no luck. “I don’t know.”

“Oh,” Los says, smile fading. They shudder against a particularly violent gale and I offer to trade but they laugh. “You’re half my size, short stuff. It’s alright, it’ll be over soon, nothing I’m not used to.”

“D-Do you live out h-here?” I ask, hands buried in my armpits.

Los shrugs. “Something like that.”

“A-alone?”

They nod once, turning their face away from me. “Yeah.”

We don’t speak again for a while after that. Everything hurts, and the cold is everywhere. My clothes are shredded and my bones are bruised. My head throbs and the only relief I can find is when I shut my eyes, but Los won’t let me fall asleep.

Los says, “Hey, hey, don’t fall asleep. Tell me where you’re from.”

And I say, “I don’t know.”

Los says, “Why you walking out here by yourself anyway?”

And I say, “I don’t know.”

Los says, “I’ll help you, okay? All you have to do is stay awake, okay?”

And I say nothing.

The morning sun overtakes the rain and the river fractures the ravine, albeit at a slower pace and with much less force. Los helps me out of our crack in the cliff, ensuring I don’t step on splintered debris with my bare, dusky purple toes. Despite the warmth cutting through the thick, lingering storm clouds, I’m cold. Los’ hand is even icier than mine, and my breath escapes in warm puffs.

At the time, I hadn’t noticed that Los’ breath did not.

“Well, which way do you want to go?” Los asks, tying their black hair back into a knot at the base of their neck. Bruises encase their throat and I stare at them unabashedly, like a six year old does. Ovals of nasty green, deep purple and violent blue dot either side of their throat and when Los catches me, he swallows and looks away.

“Are you okay?” I ask, tugging my hat down.

Los nods, giving me a small, sideways smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about it. What about you? Where’s home?”

I tug at my ear, wrinkling my nose at the dirt scraping annoyingly beneath my fingernails. “I have to go that way.” I say eventually, pointing in the direction I had been going last night, downstream.

“Okay,” Los says, brows narrowing. “Do you know why?”

“Nope.”

They sigh. “‘Course you don’t. Alright, well, there’s a town that way, but it’s a long walk. I can carry you on my back for a little while, your legs are still pretty sore, right?”

“Why?”

Los tilts their head, frowning. “Why … what?”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Oh,” Los says, then shrugs. “You’re a kid and you need my help, and I have nothing better to do.”

I study the person before me. I don’t know much, but I do know that I would’ve died last night without Los. I don’t know what trust means, but a thread of it connects us in that moment, a tenuous thing. Stranger or not, Los is all I have.

 I’m also six, and not walking on my own two feet after nearly dying sounds too good to pass up.

I say, “Okay.”

Los hauls me onto their back, hooking their arms underneath my knees. I wrap my arms around their neck, holding on tight. Los begins to traverse through the remnants of the storm, slow and steady. Upheaved tree roots stretch into the sky and the rocks they disturbed have been violently scattered across the ravine floor, interspersed with snapped limbs. There are no birds, no sound other than Los’ grunting as they walk and my slow breathing, the lull of the river. The sun hides behind a new shroud of clouds, allowing time to become a foreign construct.

“I can walk, you know.” I grumble after a while.

Los barks out a laugh, the sound of it echoing off the stone walls flanking us. “He speaks! Nah, I’m alright for now. We’re almost there.”

“You said that earlier.” I remind them, and Los grins at me over their shoulder.

“We’re closer than we were before.”

I roll my eyes, secretly grateful Los is carrying me. I’m so tired, but they won’t let me sleep. “Not yet,” They say, and I do my best to hold onto consciousness.

Los takes to telling stories the next time my arms slacken around their neck. The first one is about a fabled god called Leviathan, roaming the seas in a massive, snake-like body. They terrorized ships and cities until brought down by a mighty, unnamed warrior. The next tale is about an Oak Treant who guarded a bridge, allowing only the most clever to cross.

“What is clever?” I ask, and Los shrugs, blowing hair away from their mouth.

“I dunno, like smart I guess.”

“Like you, then.”

Los huffs out a laugh, but the accompanying smile doesn’t reach their eyes. “Sometimes.”

In the distance ahead of us, something impossible appears. A horizon, an end to this chasm full of dead things and rushing water, perpetual stone. My heart skips a beat and I bury my cold nose into Los’ spine, avoiding the inevitable unknown. Their clothes are simple, dirty and torn in places but in better shape than mine.

 I’ve managed to stay awake until now, but the clouds have finally parted and the sun is out in full force, stroking my face with such warm softness that it’s impossible not to fall underneath the beckoning tide of sleep. After Los hikes me up higher on their back for the fiftieth time, I drift into dreams thick with fire.

A soft, cool blade of grass tickles my nose.

And another.

And another.

Earth overwhelms my nostrils and a thick dew dampens my curled up body, heightening the scent of life and dirt all around me. I wearily blink my eyes open and groan, unfurling stiff limbs. “Los?” I ask, their name hoarse and stretched through my raw throat.

“Right here, kid.” Los says, seated beside me with their long legs stretched out in tall grass. They toss an apple up into the air several times, then hand it to me when I manage to sit up fully. “How’re you feeling?”

I take the apple and bite into it without a second thought. “Better. Thank you, Los, for saving me.”

Los smiles at me, brighter than the sun cast behind them. It teases the other side of the lake, a warm sunset that hasn’t quite darkened the sky yet.

A lake.

“Where are we?” I ask, watching a flock of bright blue wyverns passing overhead.

The shoreline is grassy and peaceful, trees full of bright green leaves and needles dot our area. Interrupting the shining, seemingly endless waters are islands. One isn’t far at all, full of trees and connected to the shore by a land bridge of sorts. A broken and jagged galleon rests precariously on a smaller island, a torn flag catches the easy breeze.

Behind us a little ways, where the grass slopes upward, is a road. The road goes on further than I can tell from here, rolling to the east and west. I give my attention back to Los when they don’t answer me. They braid their hair, overlooking the lake wistfully. I reach out tentatively and rest my hand on their knee, startling them.

“Oh! Um, I’m not really sure. I just call it the End.” Los says, giving me a sideways, half-way there smile.

“The End?” I tilt my head at them, then look around. Wherever we are is infinitely more open than where we had just come from. The ravine isn’t even visible from here. The way I think we came from is behind us, but the road blocks my view. “It doesn’t seem like the End.”

Los shrugs, working on another braid. There’s four now, thin ropes that trail from their right temple down their shoulder. They sigh, glancing at me with something akin to exhaustion. “This is as far as I go, kid. I didn’t want to leave until you woke up, but this is the End, for me, anyway. Come on, I’ll show you which way to go.”

I start to tremble and Los smiles, but it’s sad.

Los says, “Hey, it’s okay. You won’t be alone for long.”

I say, “Why can’t you come with me?”

Los hugs me then, and they’re so cold, but I hold onto them with all I have. I wrap my arms around their neck and my legs around their waist, burying my face in their scrawny, bruised neck. Los stands with me in their arms, holding on tight.

“I wish that I could, but I can’t. I have to go back now, but I’ll show you the way.”

“I don’t want to be alone, please.” I sob onto Los’ tunic, fingers digging into their hair.

We crest the small hill, leaving the lake behind in favor of the dirt road. Los rubs a hand up and down my back, then gently sets me down on wobbling legs. My knees knock together and I clutch the front of Los’ shirt.

“You won’t be alone, okay? Look, see that castle up there?” Los points and I follow his attention, finding the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

A city with pretty lights, towering windmills and equally impressive buildings, a curving river street and a small grove at the base of a massive, ancient castle. It’ll take forever to walk up there, but the sight of it warms my heart. “I see it.” I say, still clinging to Los.

Los kneels, taking my hands in theirs. “Good, okay. All you have to do is follow this road and it’ll take you there. Go to the castle, they will keep you safe. You’ll have to be on your own for a little while, but you braved a storm all by yourself, you can do this, right?”

I stare into Los’ eyes, my mouth opening and closing a few times. Eventually, I nod, but there is one thing I have to disagree with. “I wasn’t alone Los, I had you.”

Los smiles, a full and real one. “Sure, kid. Stay safe, okay?”

“Okay.” I stand taller, squeezing their hands tighter, then launch into their arms. Los belly laughs, hugging me tight. They sigh, shoulders dropping like a burden was smashed away.

“Have a good life, kid.”

Eleven Years Later

Spring cracks through the earth, relentlessly shoving new life through fractured stone. There are other rare spots that birth vegetation in the otherwise barren ravine, but I’m looking for one place in particular.

My boots crunch over dead sticks and I trace my hand along the rocky edge of the ravine, eyes trailing the cliff tops above me. I’m older, but the gouge in the earth has the same effect it did on me when I was young, making me feel small and insignificant. In the grand scheme of things, the universe, life and death, I suppose I am.

The ice has melted and a storm tore through here two days ago, providing a thick stream of water that gushes downhill. I stay clear of it, like my friend told me to do long ago. If it weren’t for the sun, it would be downright freezing. As it is, my fur lined leather jacket is spelled for extra warmth and my nose is still cold. I readjust my knitted beanie, an echo of the one I wore decades ago. I can hear Cas in the back of my mind, giving me shit for forgetting my gloves.

I stop walking, breath stolen.

The nook in the wall of stone is smaller than I remember. I kneel, pressing a hand to the cool wall. The overhang barely protects me against the sun and I smile, heartstrings torn. Dead pine needles roll beneath my knees and I press my forehead to the stone, closing my eyes. I breathe in the scent of decay, icy dirt warmed by the sun and something off. A smoky scent.

I sit on my ass, back to the wall, and wait.

I smoke a few bowls, happy to let the world go by. I’m sure Kitt is wondering what the hell I’m doing, but this is something I have to do on my own. Leon thinks I’m with Chauncey and isn’t coming round tonight. Cas is at school, living his own life, and Kitt is covering for me at the castle. Kitt’s a good friend like that, she doesn’t ask questions when I don’t immediately divulge information. This is a story I want to keep to myself. I haven’t been ready, but I think I can help now.

A stick cracks and I look up from the burnt herbs in my hand.

“Hey, kid.” The ghost says, looking exactly the same as the day I met them. Black hair greasy and braided, skin pale and eternally bruised. I wonder what it means that I recognize the stains on their tunic are the same, the torn holes neither smaller or larger.

Los smiles shyly at me, and I smile back.

“Hey, Los.”

I rise with purpose and embrace Los just as solidly as I did years ago. It takes them off guard, almost like they expected me to go through them now that I’m an adult, but then Los hugs me with a firmness that I haven’t felt in years. Funny how the dead can make you feel so alive.

“Oh, kid. This is … Wow, look at you.” Los says, hands tight to my biceps when they pull back and study every facet of me. I’m taller than them now, retaining some of my boyish gangliness but not all. I’m almost a man, like Los. “I can’t believe you came back.” They admit, choking on a wet laugh.

“I’m not a kid anymore.” I chuckle, gripping the back of Los’ neck. I bring their forehead to mine and Los sighs, eyes closing. “You saved my life, Los, and I’m here to give you yours.”

Los rears back, but they don’t pull away completely, fingers drifting down to my hands. “What?”

I nod, squeezing gently. “I’m a witch, a Hedge Witch. I can take you out of here, Los. I can take you to what’s next.”

“What?” Los blinks rapidly, tears welling in their stormy eyes. “How?”

I fight the urge to tug on my hat, not wanting to release their hand. “Well … I haven’t actually done it before, you’ll be my first.” I flush profusely, then hurriedly add, “My first passing. But I know what I’m doing, I promise. We’ll just take a walk together and … talk.”

Los raises a disbelieving brow. “Sounds promising.”

I roll my eyes, tugging on their hands. “Do you trust me?”

They watch me with soft eyes, debating in silence for a moment. “Yeah, kid. I do.”

I smile, unable to help myself. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Los says.

We stand there, holding hands, and Los clears their throat after a full minute.

“Like, right now you mean?” Los says through a smirk, and I startle to reality.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, it’s just, you’re here. I … It took me a long time to realize what you are, and I honestly thought you would’ve … went on.” I admit, meeting Los’ eyes warily.

Their smile fades. “And what was that?”

Heat swarms my cheeks and I release Los’ hand, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s dumb.”

Their smile returns full force. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear it then, but on the way. I want to show you something.”

“Okay, yeah.” I say, falling into step with Los as they lead us further into the ravine. Los gives me a ‘well, get on with it’ look, and I clear my throat. “Fine, fine. Nobody believed me that there was a boy in the ravine, they came and looked for you, you know.”

Los nods, hands in their pockets. “I remember, I was there, but they couldn’t see me. You were the only one who ever has.”

That threatens to trip me, but I keep my composure. “So … I’m the only one you’ve ever talked to since …”

“Since I died? Yeah.” Los says, clipped and bitter.

“Was it a long time ago?” I ask quietly, stepping over a fracture in the boulder beneath my feet.

Los shrugs. “Feels like it. What year is it?”

I tell them, and they shudder. Los goes quiet for a while after that, focusing on the non-existent path. Eventually they say, “I’ve been stuck here for fifty years, then.”

“Oh, Los.” I say, taking their hand in mine. Los stops walking, staring at our connected bodies. Their eyes drag up to mine, and they smile sadly. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Los laughs, but it’s broken. “For now.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know much about the … the Other Side, I call it, but it’s … It’s not lonely over there, not for people like you. I know that much.”

Los tilts their head at me. “Like me?”

I nod. “Good people.”

Los doesn’t say anything, only drags me forward to an area thick with brush and trees, much more so than the parts of the chasm we’ve come through so far. They look at me, tucking a lock of hair behind their ear. “We gotta crawl through here.” Los points to a tunnel in the brush and I nod, doing as they say.

Dead branches and thorns scratch at my jacket, hands and face, but I don’t complain. Los follows behind me and before I can ask where we’re going, the question answers itself. The tunnel empties into a clearing surrounded by walls of brush and sparsely filled with dead trees. Shreds of grass attempt to grow in the rocky ground, a feeble attempt. Centered between two trees bent at the waist are the splintered remains of a carriage.

I swallow something heavy, the energy emanating from the debris is overwhelming and completely evil. Los glares at the split spokes, shattered windows and long washed away paint, hands tightened into fists at their sides. I know I need to get closer, but the energy is thick, like a suffocating wall that surrounds the carriage.

Los takes my hand, squeezing tight.

I return the pressure.

“We were moving to Levena. Ma, Roger and I. It was a hard trip, and we were so close, but it was a long ride. We came all the way from the southern regions, and Roger became … manic, towards the end. I never liked him, but spending time in the desolate lands did something to him, took the twisted parts of him and sharpened them to deadly points.”

Los exhales shakily, leaning into my side as they continue with a voice that is entirely small and childish. “We got lost, ran out of food, water. Roger was … he was so scary. Ma and I made a plan. We were going to leave when he fell asleep, take off on foot. He heard us though, and …”

Los shakes their head and I fold their body to my chest. When I was younger Los seemed so tall, but now I have a few inches on them. “It’s okay,” I say, rubbing their back like they did to me once. “You’re okay, Los, I’m right here.”

Los nods, clutching the leather across my shoulders. “He trapped all of us inside the carriage and just … took us all over the edge. Ma … she died instantly, broke her neck on the way down, but Roger and I weren’t that lucky. I fought him but … it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”

Los cries then, sobbing into my chest with all they have. I hold onto the ghost with all my might, humming softly to a song that I’ve come to love in the past few weeks. I don’t want to, but eventually I open my mouth and ask, “Roger?”

Los huffs out a shaky laugh. “He slipped on a rock and cracked his skull, not far from here. He’s not here, though. Ma either.” Los pulls away from my chest, staring up at me. “Why is that? Why am I alone?”

The same question I asked myself eleven years ago.

I tuck Los’ hair behind both their ears, swallowing. I don’t have the answers, only educated guesses. I give Los my best. “It sounds like Roger’s soul was destined for … somewhere else. Your Ma … Maybe she’s waiting for you, kind of like saving your seat.”

Los smiles through wet grief. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

It doesn’t take me long to find Los’ body, and their mother’s. Los waited well outside the carriage which did not collapse on me like I thought it would. Surprisingly, and creepily, the structure hasn’t decayed at all and was quite sturdy underneath my considerable weight. The animals never bothered the bodies either, and why is not a question I can answer. Not sure if I want to, really.

I take off my jacket and spread it out on the once wood paneled floor, carefully piling their bones onto it. It takes some time, but I’m not in a rush. I want to do this right. Warmth, memories and electrifying energy travels beneath my skin. Flashes of their life breathe underneath my fingertips and I catch small glimpses. A laughing child with black hair thrown into the air by a mother with paint smudging her nose mix. Banana bread for birthdays. Funny faces and love, so much love.

By the time I return to Los pacing a good distance away from the carriage, early evening has fallen in our section of the world. Los stops in their tracks, eyes widening upon seeing the neatly bundled up jacket in my arms, and if possible, their face pales farther than before.

“Oh.”

“You’re both here,” I say, kneeling on the ground and gently setting the bundle down. I stare up to Los. “Are you ready to find your mom?”

Los fidgets, staring at the dirt beside their wrapped up bones. “Will she want to find me?”

I stand, crossing the small distance to take Los’ hand. They squeeze my fingers, but don’t look up. “Why would you say that?”

Los sniffles, finally meeting my gaze. “Because I couldn’t save her. Save us. I couldn’t save us, kid.”

“Oh, Los.”

Once again, I embrace a ghost, allowing their untold troubles to flow into the wind as they unburden themselves for the journey ahead. My own tears escape this time, ones born of grief for the life Los so desperately deserved and was wrongfully deprived of and the time they spent alone. The tears aren’t just sad, though. They’re happy, for being able to bring Los home, to give back to the person who saved my life.

Without releasing Los, I close my eyes and draw upon my magick. It crawls along the surface of my skin, humming and crackling as the energy turns up and up and up. Behind Los’ back I bring my fingers together, moving them in a fluid series of conjurations that I’ve spent months practicing. Magick sparks, arcing from my fingers to the pile of leather and bones beside us, alighting the bundle instantly. Los gasps into my chest, fingers digging in my back.

“Kid, I’m warm.” Los whispers, words cracking on a laugh. “I’m finally warm!”

“Yeah?” I chuckle through hot tears. “That’s good, Los, real good. Okay, once the fire goes out, I’m going to open the veil. Are you ready?”

“Oh, wow, okay, yes, I’m ready.” Los nods furiously, pulling back from my chest. They don’t release me fully though, holding on tight to my hand.

We stare at the growing fire together, the flames a violent shade of green that would blind anyone else, but it’s mine, my magick, my power. Slowly, minute by minute, the fire recedes to a smoldering bed of coals. When the last emerald flame snuffs out, the air around us crackles with a new intensity. Ozone lines my nostrils and I inhale deeply, washing my throat in the energy tainted air. I return Los’ pressure on my palm and reach up into nothing with my free hand, fingers coming to a stop about eye level.

To others, there may be nothing, but I can see the wrinkled edge of this world, scrape at it with my fingernails. The first time I did this was an accident and I was almost lost to the Other Side, but I know better now. I pinch the crinkled fabric of the universe between my fingers, gently coaxing apart the folds of the veil that separates the worlds of Life and Death. Vivid, eye gouging color awaits on the other side, revealing a breathtaking, nature filled ravine that is much different than the one we stand in. The moment air whooshes out in a soft vacuum that makes my ears pop, Los bursts into laughter and tears.

“Ma!” Los cries, fingers loosening from mine.

“Not yet,” I say, and they renew their hold, looking up at me with a frown. I give Los a small smile. “You have to say goodbye, first.”

Los smiles back, a watery and beautiful thing. “It’s not goodbye, kid. See you later?”

I laugh a little, blinking away tears. “It’s Arlo, actually, and yeah. I’ll see you later.”

Los’ mouth drops, then they grin. Los reaches up and leaves a tender kiss on my cheek, lips turning up against my flushed skin and hint of patchy stubble.

Then my first friend releases my hand and steps through the tear in the world, leaving me behind. I smile, despite the bittersweet cracking of my heart.

“Have a good life, kid.”