“I knew I was a ghost! I knew I was wrong! I asked for them to release me! Of course I did. Don’t you think I searched?”

“But what hap—”

He laughed, wildly, despairingly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know! I looked for years, but this place is deserted! The guardians are gone! I was the last generation to be buried!”

He shouted, rising through the air, clawing at his face. Cara looked up, suddenly nervous. The ghost screamed into the darkness.

“They’re gone. They swore to protect Noelictus, but they were dead before I was buried! I am here and I do not know why. I’ve been here so long I lost count. I screamed for them! But there was nothing but the mice. My bones turned to dust—”

Dalius’ fingers failed to scratch his skin. His eyes were wild as he swung around. His knightly virtue was gone. There was a ghost. But also—a mortal man. Lost by time. Unable to even die.

He caught himself with effort. And saw the young woman gazing up at him. The [Knight] froze.

And then sank to the ground. Dalius watched Cara as she tried not to step back. He bowed his head.

Brushed at his eyes, wearily.

“I am ashamed. My conduct is disgraceful for a [Knight], and I am still one, even if my Skills and levels have deserted me. Miss Cara, I will see you leave this place. I swear that.”

“No. I understand. I’m sorry. Ser Dalius—I’m glad you remained.”

The man raised his head, blinking at her. Cara hesitated. But his raw grief and despair—she paused, remembering the biting pain of frostbite.

Then she reached out and touched him. Her hand passed through his shoulder for a second—and then—

found something.

Ghostly skin. He looked up at her, hungry, desperate. And she bent and looked into his eyes.

“Ser Knight. Without you I would have died. Even in death, you saved my life.”

His despairing eyes lit up. The [Knight] bowed his head. And then, slowly, he rose. Ser Dalius sighed. But he looked lighter as he nodded to her.

“I felt that.”

It was all he said. In an oblivion without touch. Without sound. Without light. He touched at his shoulder, wonderingly. Then he bowed.

“Miss Cara. If I was given life after death to save one more person—it is worth it. As I say—I am a poor replacement for the legends this tomb was meant to hold. But I will be your escort.”

He smiled, wearily. And Cara smiled back. So—for him, the lost [Knight] in the tomb, the [Singer] looked around.

“It’s late. Why don’t we rest? If you’ll stand watch over me, that is.”

Actually, her iPhone said it was mid-morning. But time was meaningless. And the [Knight] gazed at her, so lonely.