He was on top of the world.

Cole stood on the edge of the Mountain of a Million Steps, ignoring the building behind him in favor of savoring the view before and below him. He could see the first hundred or so steps descend down the side of the mountain, then disappear into a thick cloud bank, which was colored pinkish-orange due to the setting sun behind him.

All in all, breathtaking.

Cole took in a few breaths, letting in as much oxygen as the thin mountain air would allow his lungs to intake. His calves burned from walking up all of the stairs; his lungs were still adjusting to being several hundred feet above sea level; his bare upper body was slick with perspiration, causing the pack that carried most of his gear to stick to his back.

He was exhausted, unbelievably exhausted.

But he had never felt more alive.

Cole took in one more breath of air...and let out a loud whoop.

The whoop echoed from the mountaintop, giving it a rich, otherworldly tone. Cole closed his eyes and listened to the sound, a smile tugging on his lips and a familiar feeling of pride and happiness filling his chest

A chuckle from behind him cut the moment short. "You are truly your mother's child," a voice, rich in age and wisdom, spoke up.

Cole turned towards the voice's owner, the one who had guided him to this place, a shy smile on his face. "Mom would always do that when we made it to the top of a mountain," he explained, his right hand coming up to rub the back of his head. "I just....picked it up, I guess."

His guide's golden eyes twinkled and he smiled underneath his long white beard. "Not a bad thing to acquire," he replied, walking up to the young sixteen-year-old, the bamboo cane in his hand tap-tapping against the rocky ground.

Cole just shrugged, turning to face the view again. "I dunno, I guess...it helps me feel.... closer to her, I guess..."

The old man gave him a sad smile and gently tapped Cole's chest with the end of his cane. "She will always be apart of you," he said. "You may not see her, but she will be with you. Always."

Cole squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. "I know..." he replied, his voice thick with grief.

There a long silence, his guide allowing Cole a moment to grieve and regain control of his emotions. When Cole had done so--letting out a long sigh and wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand--his guide gently tapped his shoulder and gestured for the young teen to follow him.

They walked to the building that Cole had previously ignored, which turned out to be a monastery. Two huge, heavily decorated doors stood before them, hiding the inside of the monastery from view.

"Sensei Wu," Cole said to his guide, confused. "Aren't these kinds of places made for peace? How can I learn to fight here?"

His guide gave him a look that looked equal parts amused and mischievous. "There is more to this place than meets the eye, young Cole," he replied before turning and pushing one of the doors.

Cole gasped as the door swung open, revealing a small courtyard. Taking up most of the space was what appeared to be some kind of obstacle course, which had swinging dummies, tall wooden poles, and wooden swords inserted into wooden columns.

"Whoa," he breathed, walking up to a column. He gave one of the dummies attached to it an experimental punch, watching as the dummy--and the entire column--began to spin in a circle. "This is cool!"

"I am glad that you find this course fascinating," Sensei Wu replied. "You shall be trying to complete it during your training." Then, so quietly that Cole almost didn't hear, the old man muttered, "Though....I could have sworn that I had deactivated it before I left...."

Cole tensed. It was a normal enough thing to wonder about--people thought they did things only to realize that they hadn't all the time--but the young teen had slowly come to realize that sometimes....someone else was behind things like this.

He carefully scanned around the courtyard, trying not to look too suspicious as he did so. He looked around the obstacle, near the doors that he had entered, up on the roof of the monastery--oh!

Even though he had been seeing ghosts since he had been a little boy, it still gave him a start whenever he saw one. It always took him to realize that yes, there is a green-glowing see-through person right there, and no, it was not the same ghost who had attacked him and gave him his scar....

Once that had happened and Cole started to study the ghost, he was shocked to see that this particular ghost looked to be about his age. He was just sitting on the edge of the roof, his right leg crossed over the other. His shoulder length, shaggy black hair--with one lock colored a bright green--and silver cape-thing(a cloak maybe?) was(somehow) being gently swayed by the wind. Something that also startled Cole was that the ghost was glowering--but not at him....

Before Cole could see what, exactly, the ghost was staring at, the ghostly teen's narrowed green eyes wandered over to him. Those same eyes then widened when they made contact with Cole's own grey ones.

"Cole."

Cole jumped when he heard his name being called and quickly turned around. "Yes, Sensei?" he asked, firmly ignoring the set of eyes currently burning a hole in the back of the skull.

His guide beckoned him closer. "You must be tired after your long journey," he said, gently ushering Cole into the monastery. "Come, let me show you to your room."

Cole nodded. As he walked into the monastery, he took a quick second to look over his shoulder, trying to see if the ghostly teen was still there.

But the ghost was gone.

~~~~~

Sensei led Cole through the innards of the monastery, pausing every now and again to show him the different rooms--namely the kitchen, the bathrooms, and a rec room.

"And here," Sensei said, leading Cole down a hallway with several doors before stopping before one towards the end of it. "Is the room that you will stay in."

Cole patiently waited for Sensei to open the door before he walked inside. The room was fairly large, with a big canopy bed with a small trunk at the foot of it in the middle, a dresser with a mirror towards the right, and a bookshelf nestled in the left. A small window on the west side of the room let in the last few rays of sunlight, illuminating the grey paint that covered the walls of the room.

Cole took a minute looking around the room, gently placing his bag on top of the trunk and carefully placing his hand on the bed, pleased when he discovered that the sheets covering the mattress were soft and non-itchy. He turned towards Sensei, intending to tell him how nice the room was...only to pause when he saw the look on Sensei's face.

Sensei was smiling....but the smile was small and weak, not reaching his eyes....which were unexpectedly filled with sadness and even grief.

Cole was confused--why did Sensei look so sad? Then, he remembered the ghost he has seen earlier. Were he and Sensei close? Cole wondered. Had this been his room?

His stomach twisted into a small knot and he said, "um, Sensei? If, if you want, I....I can move into a different room...."

"Hmm?" Sensei turned to look at him. "Is there something wrong with the room, young Cole?"

"No, no! The room's perfect. I just...." Cole nervously rubbed the back of his head. "You looked kinda sad and I thought that maybe this room had some sentimental value to you and I don't want to interfere with that--"

"Ah," Sensei's eyes softened. "You have your mother's compassionate spirit. Do not worry, Cole. This room is yours, to use as you see fit. You need not worry about an old man's past."

Cole frowned a little, not entirely satisfied with that answer. He really didn't want to cause his new teacher any kind of emotional pain and he really didn't want to have to deal with a potentially angry ghost--his scar stung just thinking about it. Still, he also didn't want to offend Sensei by pushing the issue further, so he simply nodded and bowed respectfully. "Thank you Sensei. I will make sure that I don't abuse this privilege."

"I am certain that you will not," Sensei replied, starting to exit. "If you are hungry, you are free to make yourself something to eat. Otherwise, I would advise that you shower and get some sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow..."

Deciding to follow his sensei's advice(after a quick snack of course--a nice, juicy apple from the kitchen and a squished chocolate chip granola bar that was still in his bag), Cole went to the bathroom and took a shower. He tried to forget about seeing Sensei's sad look and the ghostly teen that he had seen earlier as he quickly washed his hair. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, that he needed to do something.

As he dried his hair with a towel, Cole happened to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. As always, the scar on his forehead caught his attention--the radioactive green glow dim in the bright light, but it was all to easy for him to picture it's normal bright glow.

Cole stared at his reflection, a far-too familiar feeling of anger bubbling up inside as he studied his scar. Why did that ghost have to scratch him? Why did he have to have this power to see the dead? Why did such a power even exist, and why was he one of the few who had?

He didn't want such a power. All it's done is give him grief. And it was basically useless too. What good could he possibly do with it?

As he thought this, however, Sensei's sad look and the ghost's angry glower flashed across his mind and Cole was suddenly struck with an idea. He tried to shake it off, thinking it was too crazy and too impossible to work, but the idea took root and he found himself unable to shake it loose. So he figured, what the heck?, and decided to go through with it.

He quickly changed into some pajamas(or, his version of pajamas at least--an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants) and went back to his new room. He crawled into his bed but, instead of going to sleep, he instead reached into his bag and pulled out one of his favorite books.

For a long time, Cole read. He tried to get lost in the story--even though he had read it numerous times, he could always get lost within it--but his nerves made it nearly impossible. It didn't help that the book was just a distraction, something to keep him busy as he waited....and waited....

Finally, just as Cole felt like he couldn't keep his eyes open much longer and he found himself rereading the same paragraph three times without understanding any of it, his scar started to tingle and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Despite all of his instincts screaming at him, Cole slowly raised his head up--and saw the ghost from earlier floating across the room from him.

Grey eyes once again locked with green eyes and Cole felt a jolt of fear travel down his spine. This is a bad idea, he thought.

Then, he took in a slow, deep breath....and put a small smile on his face.

"Hey," he said, marking his place in his book before setting it down. "I was kinda wondering if you would show up again. I was getting worried."

The ghost pulled a face--and it was so full of confusion and surprise that Cole had to hold back a laugh. "Da eff?" he said, clearly shocked.

Cole winced a little at the cuss(he blamed the fact that his mom and uncle were very strict on the use of strong language on why he didn't like it when people cussed) but managed to maintain his smile. "Um, sorry. That was probably a little forward of me, let's start over." He got up from his bed and walked over to the ghost, holding out his hand for a handshake. "My name's Cole. Cole Brookstone. And you are....?"

The ghost blinked wide-eyed at him for a while. Then, a fierce scowl overtook his face. "Doesn't matter," he growled, getting in Cole's personal space and pointing his finger at Cole's face. "You're in my space, and you need to take all your junk out of it and leave. NOW."

I was right! Cole's mind sang victoriously.

Outwardly, he took a step back and held up his hands apologetically. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to invade your space. I didn't really unpack, so I'll just grab what's mine and go..."

He turned around and picked up his bag, with the full intention of doing what he had said, when he heard the ghost say, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're....just leaving? Just like that?"

"I mean....yeah?" Cole turned around to face the ghost, now a little perplexed. "Why wouldn't I? I mean, it is your room after all. I'd be a bit of a jerk if I refused to move, right?"

The ghost stared at him like he had grown a second head before he abruptly turned around. "You know what, forget it," he spat, walking away from Cole. "Stay in here for all I effing care, I don't give a eff. Just stay away from me."

"H-Hey, wait!" Cole replied, reaching out a hand. "I still didn't get your name--"

He cut off as the ghostly teen phased through the wall of the room and vanished. Cole could have followed him if he really wanted to, but he figured that would only serve to piss the ghost off further--something that he really didn't want.

Cole let out a sigh that was equal parts relief and disappointment. "That went well," he muttered sarcastically, flopping onto his bed and draping an arm over his eyes.

Why did he even bother trying? It wasn't like things were ever going to change.

Except....eventually, things did change....all thanks to that first encounter....