The college email still burned in my memory, but the life of someone who cares for animals doesn't wait for bureaucracy. It was six in the morning and I was already at the university stables. If they were going to cut my scholarship and kick me out, I was going to ensure Goiás's bed was clean until the very last second my badge worked.
As I shoveled dirty sawdust into the wheelbarrow, my mind did math that didn't add up. Late rent, food, bus fare. The temptation to use the Gift for personal gain circled my head like a blowfly.
"With an arm of solid light, I could break into an ATM and no one would see the thief's face," I thought.
Immediately, I felt my right arm turn cold. The connection with Aureus trembled.
"Sorry, sorry... just a bad thought," I muttered, shaking my head. The Code of Conduct demands integrity. Stealing to survive is still breaking the social Order. I couldn't become a villain just because the real villains wore suits.
That was when Goiás stopped eating. He lifted his head and looked at an empty corner of the stall, where a ray of sunlight pierced through the broken tiles and illuminated the dust suspended in the air.
I tensed up. My hand went to my pocket, ready to release the light.
"What is it, boy? Another one of those shadows?"
But Goiás wasn't afraid. He was... curious. He stretched his neck and whinnied softly, a sound of greeting.
I looked at the sunbeam. The dust wasn't falling; it was swirling. Particles of hay, earth, and light began to clump together, defying gravity. There was no smell of sulfur or blood, typical of Umbra. There was the smell of... rain on hot asphalt? Bread coming out of the oven?
Before my eyes, the silhouette formed. It wasn't an angel, nor a warrior.
It was a dog.
A stray mutt, to be exact. Small, with asymmetrical ears, made entirely of golden light particles and floating dust. It had no internal organs, just a translucent, glowing shape that wagged its tail frantically.
"What in the hell..." I lowered my guard.
The spiritual creature gave a bark that made no audible sound but echoed in my head like a bell of happiness. He ran—or floated—to me and started licking my boot. I felt a pleasant tingling, as if I had touched a 9-volt battery charged with affection.
I grabbed my phone, took a picture (which came out as just a blur of light), and sent it to Lucas.
The reply came in ten seconds, followed by a call.
"Dayanne, you won't believe it!" Lucas's voice was euphoric. "I'm monitoring the frequencies. That's not a construct of yours. It's a Good Spirit!"
"Good Spirit? I thought the Frontier only spat out monsters."
"The manual says they exist, naturally generated by the Spiritual Frontier to provide assistance, but they are extremely rare because human fear feeds the bad ones more. The positive energy you generate caring for these animals, combined with your high Fervor, must have coalesced one."
I looked at the little light dog. He was now playing with Goiás's muzzle; the horse seemed enchanted by his new friend.
"And what does he do? Besides being cute and glowing?"
"They provide assistance. Figure it out."
I hung up. I knelt on the ground and extended my left hand.
"Hey there, buddy. What's your name?"
The spirit placed his paw in my hand. Suddenly, my peripheral vision expanded. I didn't just see the barn; I felt the map of the campus in my mind. I felt where the security guard was (in the booth, sleeping), I felt a water leak in the underground pipe a hundred meters away... and I felt a malicious intent approaching the main gate.
The dog growled at the stable entrance, his glow shifting from golden to an alert orange.
"Someone is coming," I realized. "Someone with bad intentions."
The spirit ran to a pile of old hay and started frantically digging with light paws. I went over. Hidden under the hay was an old digital recorder, probably forgotten by some journalism or vet student years ago.
The dog looked at me, then at the recorder, and then at the entrance.
"You want me to record?"
He wagged his tail.
Seconds later, I heard the sound of expensive tires crushing the gravel at the entrance. A black, armored sedan stopped at the barn door.
A man in a grey suit stepped out. He didn't have Vitor's corrupted aura, nor magical weapons. He had something worse: a leather briefcase and a corporate smile.
"Miss Dayanne Gabrielly?" he called, his voice polished like marble.
I was already standing, the recorder hidden in my shirt pocket, turned on. The light dog was sitting beside me, invisible to the man, but vibrating in alert.
"Can I help you?"
"My name is Dr. Siqueira, legal representative for Alencar Construction." He didn't enter the stall, disgusted by the sawdust. "I came personally to avoid future embarrassment. We heard about the... administrative incident with your scholarship. A pity."
"Yeah, a pity," I replied dryly.
"The Alencar family admires dedicated young people. We are willing to fully sponsor your studies, and perhaps even an internship in our agribusiness division." He paused dramatically. "In exchange, we only need you to sign a confidentiality agreement regarding any 'construction accidents' you may have witnessed recently. And, of course, that you hand over any... 'luminous artifacts' you possess."
It was a bribe. And a threat.
The canine spirit beside me growled silently, and I felt a wave of mental clarity. They were afraid. If they came here to offer money, it's because Vitor didn't tell his father I'm a Chosen armed for war. He must have said I was just an inconvenient witness.
They didn't know what I was. That was my advantage.
I smiled, crossing my arms.
"Doctor, you can tell Mr. Alencar that I'm from Minas. We're suspicious by nature." I took a step forward, and the man instinctively recoiled. "I have nothing to sign. And about what I saw... tell him that what happens in the dark, eventually comes to light."
The lawyer narrowed his eyes.
"You're making a mistake, girl. Without that scholarship, you go back to the sticks."
"Better in the sticks with a clean soul than in the city with dirty hands," I retorted.
He huffed, got into the car, and peeled out.
As soon as he was gone, I took the recorder out of my pocket. I had everything. The bribe attempt, the mention of the "accident." It wasn't proof for the police (they bought the police), but it was ammunition. Lucas could use this.
The little light dog jumped on my leg, asking for pets.
"You're a good boy," I scratched his "head." "I'm going to call you Faísca[1]."
Faísca barked, happy.
I was still broke. I was still under threat. But now I had an ally who saw what I couldn't see. And for the first time in this war, I had an ace up my sleeve.
"Come on, Faísca. We have to send this audio to Lucas. The information war has just begun."
[1] Means "Spark" in Portuguese