The air in the corridor grew thick with a palpable awkwardness. Shin stood frozen, his mind still reeling from the sheer absurdity of the request. Elowen, the ghostly keeper, floated before him, a shimmering portrait of terror, her vast, silken hair rustling like dry leaves on the floor.
Then, a strange sound broke the silence. It was a strangled gasp.
They all turned to look at Solara. Her face, which had been alight with mocking laughter, was now a mask of horrified remembrance. The memory of her own Rite—the chaotic energy, the overwhelming submission, the things she had said—came flooding back. A blush so deep and furious it could rival her own celestial fire spread from her neck to the roots of her golden curls.
"I... I have to go... check on the... uh... sun!" she stammered, turning on her heel and fleeing down the corridor without a backward glance.
Shin watched her go, then turned back to the problem at hand, only to find Luna's gaze had followed her sister. A strange, unfamiliar pang of jealousy hit him, not from himself, but radiating from Luna. He could feel her emotions as if they were his own—a sharp, lonely ache. She was the architect of this harem, the one who had brought these powerful women to him, yet she was the only one he hadn't touched. The irony was not lost on him. She was his wife, but she felt like a spectator.
Luna seemed to sense his awareness and offered him a small, sad smile before composing herself. "She will be fine," she said, her voice regaining its regal calm. "Now, for the task at hand."
Shin took a deep breath and turned his full attention to Elowen. The ghostly maid flinched but held her ground, her silver eyes wide and pleading. He remembered Luna's words: It is about resonance. An anchor.
He couldn't approach this like he had with Valeria or Solara. There was no body to overpower, no fire to tame. This had to be different.
He closed his eyes and reached out, not with his hands, but with his mind. He focused on the warm, steady hum of the Aura of Kingship within him and projected it forward, not as a command, but as an invitation. A gentle, calming wave of energy.
It's okay, he thought, trying to project the feeling as well. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help.
Elowen's form stopped flickering. She felt the gentle warmth of his aura wash over her, a stark contrast to the cold, lonely existence she had known for centuries. It was like the first ray of sunlight after a long winter. Hesitantly, she drifted a fraction of an inch closer.
Shin opened his eyes and slowly raised his hand. He reached out, and for a moment, his hand passed right through her shimmering shoulder. It felt like plunging his hand into cool, flowing water. But then, he focused his will, and his fingers made contact.
It was the strangest sensation. It wasn't the feel of skin, but of pure, condensed energy. It was like touching a living thought. He felt a torrent of information rush up his arm—the silent screams of forgotten kings, the joy of discovered spells, the sorrow of lost histories, the loneliness of a thousand years spent in silence. It was overwhelming.
Elowen gasped, a sound like wind chimes. No one had ever touched her essence before.
Shin pulled her closer, not with force, but with an irresistible pull of shared energy. He guided her towards him, and as their essences mingled, the Rite began. It wasn't a physical joining, but a mental and spiritual one. He felt his own warm, steady energy flow into her, grounding her chaotic, vast consciousness. In return, her ancient, powerful knowledge flowed into him, a river of pure data.
The "act" was a silent, explosive convergence. He felt her entire being—her fears, her hopes, her boundless love for the knowledge she protected—and he accepted it all. He became her anchor. She became his library.
With a final, silent surge of will, Shin released the combined energy. It didn't erupt outwards like with Solara. Instead, it flooded inwards, filling every corner of the Scriptorium. A silent, silver-white light exploded from their joined forms, washing over the towering shelves. The dust of centuries evaporated. The cold, hollow presence of the Void shrieked silently as it was purged, banished by the pure, overwhelming power of consecrated knowledge. The air tasted of old parchment and fresh ozone.
When the light faded, Shin stumbled back, his mind reeling. He wasn't physically exhausted, but he felt a "data hangover," a thousand voices and histories whispering in his skull.
Elowen floated before him, no longer wavering or shy. Her form was more solid, more real, and her eyes were clear and bright, filled with a calm, profound devotion. She slowly, gracefully, lowered herself in the same gesture of absolute submission he was now becoming accustomed to.
All that I am, all that I know... is yours, my King, her voice whispered in his mind, clear and strong. My mind, my soul, my library... they are yours to command.
Shin just nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. He looked over at Luna, who watched him with a proud, loving smile. But beneath that smile, he could still see the faint, lingering shadow of her own unfulfilled desire.
Shin's mind was a library of whispers, a thousand forgotten histories and spells rustling through his consciousness. He swayed on his feet, gripping the doorframe for support. Elowen's voice, now a clear and strong bell in his mind, had just pledged her entire existence to him.
All that I am... is yours, my King.
But as the last echoes of the Rite faded, a new sensation flooded Elowen. It wasn't a thought or a memory, but a feeling. A strange, solid pressure against the soles of her feet. She looked down, her silver eyes wide with wonder. She was touching the floor. Not floating above it, not phasing through it, but feeling the cool, solid stone through the soles of her... feet.
She looked at her hands. They were no longer translucent. They were solid, pale, and real. She wiggled her fingers, a simple, miraculous act. A wave of pure, unadulterated joy washed over her, so potent it made her dizzy. She was alive. Truly, physically alive.
Then, another sensation hit her: a slight draft. She looked down and saw that her shimmering, ethereal gown had vanished. In its place was... nothing. She was as solid and real as the floor beneath her, and just as unclothed.
A strangled, silent gasp escaped her lips. The shy, centuries-old spirit, now a mortal woman, immediately tried to cover herself with her impossibly long hair, her face burning with a blush that was no longer ethereal, but very, very real.
It was at this precise, chaotic moment that Solara decided to return. She sauntered back down the corridor, her usual fiery confidence back in place, as if trying to erase the memory of her earlier embarrassment.
"Is it over yet?" she asked, her voice dripping with casual impatience. "Did you banish the spooky dust bunnies? I was getting bored."
She stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes took in the scene: Shin, looking dazed and confused; Elowen, a solid, naked, and blushing woman trying to hide behind her own hair; and the general aura of post-Rite awkwardness that hung in the air.
Solara's brain, never one for nuance, jumped to the most immediate and scandalous conclusion.
"SHIN, YOU... YOU... YOU LECHEROUS PERVERT!" she shrieked, her voice echoing through the ancient corridor. "I leave you alone for five minutes and you're already deflowering the ghost staff!"
"What?!" Shin yelped, his hands flying up in a gesture of universal innocence. "I didn't! This wasn't... I don't know what happened!"
He looked from Solara's furious face to Elowen's terrified one, his mind a complete blank. He was the king, the anchor, the one who had just performed a sacred rite, and once again, he was being accused of being a common criminal.
Just as Solara looked like she might actually combust with rage, a sound cut through the tension. It was a light, melodic laugh. Luna leaned against the corridor wall, her shoulders shaking with mirth.
"Oh, my dear king," she managed to say between giggles. "Your reign is never dull."
"This isn't funny!" Solara yelled. "He... he..."
"Solara, hush," Luna said, her amusement softening into a warm smile. She looked at the terrified, naked Elowen, then at her hopelessly confused husband. "The Rite didn't just cleanse the room. It cleansed her."
She gestured towards Elowen. "You gave her a portion of your life force, Shin. You anchored her spirit to a solid form. You didn't just perform a rite with a ghost; you brought her back to life."
The words hung in the air. Solara's jaw dropped. Shin stared at Elowen, who was now looking at her own solid hands with a new understanding. The Rite hadn't just been about energy; it had been about life itself.
Luna glided forward, unfastening her own cloak and draping it gently over Elowen's shoulders, covering her nakedness. The ghost, now a woman, clutched the silk gratefully, her eyes filled with tears of gratitude.
"Welcome to the world of the living, Elowen," Luna said with a queen's grace. "And welcome to the court of King Shin. I have a feeling things are about to get much more interesting."