Old Ghost

The hallway stretched around them like a dark tunnel, blocking out all those who were unimportant to the matter at hand. All coldly lit by the buzz of fluorescent lights and filled with the distant chatter of students in nearby classrooms. Between Orion and Sterling, however, there was only silence, with Emi standing behind him, witnessing the tension of rising molten steel.

Orion stood tall, arms at his sides. He didn’t shout. He didn’t explode. He just stared, the way the eye of a storm would stare down a world it had already decided to destroy.

Sterling, meanwhile, only offered that same smile from before – warm, soft, the kind that might have once belonged to someone’s favorite uncle.

“I take it the beard gave me away?” he said, lightly tugging at it with theatrical flair. “Drat. I thought I was blending in quite nicely.”

Orion did not respond.

“Still not one for jokes, huh?” Sterling chuckled to himself, adjusting his sleeves like this was all casual. “Though I must say, teaching high school? Surprisingly refreshing. Teenagers are delightfully chaotic. One girl called me ‘based?’ That’s a good thing, right? I can’t tell.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Orion said quietly in his low rumbling voice.

Sterling’s smile didn’t fade, but something about it grew brittle at the edges. He replied:

“Straight to the accusations. No hugs? No tearful reunion? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“What do you want?”

“Hmm? I could ask you the same thing.” Sterling gave him a side glance. “You’re the one who followed me out here, storm brewing in your eyes. Looking at me like I’m some kind of ghost.”

“You are a ghost,” Orion said. “Just waiting… to be forgotten.”

Sterling paused. For the first time, a real silence fell between them. His eyes lowered for a moment, as if he was remembering something heavy. Then, just as quickly, he masked it behind a sigh and a shrug.

“I suppose…” he said, with his voice now softer. “That was a long time ago. And the world kept turning. As it does. As it must.”

Orion clenched his fist, saying:

“You turned your back… on everything.”

Raising an eyebrow, Sterling fired back:

“And you didn’t?”

The words hung there, suspended between the two of them. Not really an argument, or perhaps this was a fragment of an old conversation they once had, carrying with them an explosive anger, at least on Orion’s side.

Sterling exhaled. And this time, when he looked at Orion, the smile was gone.

“I’ve washed my hands of all this,” he said, raising his hands, “of the kingdom, prophecies, magicks. I found peace here. I found… something. A quiet life. You should try it sometime.”

“You sound like someone who gave up,” Orion replied.

“I am someone who lived,” he answered. “Maybe that’s something you still don’t understand.”

Then, with a shake of his head, Sterling turned to leave.

“Class starts again in fifteen. Try not to start a war before then.”

He walked off down the hall, leaving Orion standing there, fists clenched, eyes burning with something not quite hate – but not far from it either.

Standing behind Orion, Emi stood in silence. In awe of what she just saw. Her heart now thumping, watching the strange gravity of the man who once taught a Dark Lord how to turn into a god. And he just… walked away.