The smell of ether and disinfectant at the UFMG veterinary clinic never bothered me. In fact, it reminded me that things there were clean, controlled. Very different from the smell of sulfur and ozone that hit me whenever the world decided to turn inside out.
"Dayanne, can you hold Bob for me? He won’t stay still," asked Dr. Marcos, sweating cold as he tried to vaccinate a Golden Retriever that looked like it had seen a ghost.
I looked at the dog. Bob wasn’t aggressive; I knew animals. He was terrified. His eyes weren't on the vet, but fixed on a dark corner of the room, right above the medicine cabinet. The fur on the back of his neck was standing up so straight it looked like he’d been electrocuted.
"I got it, Doc," I replied, resting my right arm on the animal’s chest, trying to project calmness. "Hey, Bob, settle down. It’s just a little prick."
But I knew it wasn’t.
My eyes began to sting, and that familiar buzzing, like a cicada singing inside my ear, started up. It was the Call.
I looked toward the corner the dog was staring at. To Dr. Marcos, there was nothing but dust and cobwebs. But I already had one foot through the Veil. The ceiling began to turn gray, as if a storm were brewing inside the concrete. The fluorescent lights flickered and, for a second, looked like weak, smoky torches.
There was the thing.
It was a Wraith. It looked like a giant tick made of tar and smoke, with legs that were far too thin and a face that resembled a melted mask. It was clinging to Dr. Marcos's aura, whispering something into his ear. Envy. I could taste the bitterness in my mouth. The head professor had won an award yesterday, and Marcos hadn't been invited. The Wraith was feeding on that petty grudge.
"Dr. Marcos," I said, my voice coming out firmer than an intern's should. "Can I take Bob to the recovery room? I think he needs to calm down before we try again. And you... you look like you need a coffee. You're pale."
He blinked, confused, rubbing the back of his neck right where the spiritual parasite was nestled.
"Yeah... yeah, maybe. Take him, Day. I’ll be right there."
As soon as I closed the recovery room door and made sure the hallway was empty, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Bob hid under the gurney, whimpering.
"Stay cool, boy. This fight is mine now."
I looked down at my left side. The sleeve of my lab coat was empty, pinned up at shoulder height. The "stump" ached. A phantom pain that throbbed whenever a creature from the Umbra was near. It was the memory of the price I had paid. The memory of that beast’s teeth tearing through my flesh while I shoved Goiás out of the way.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
Aureus, The Benevolent. Pain is fleeting, sacrifice is eternal. Give me the strength to clean this filth.
I didn't need complex rituals. Faith was the trigger.
I felt the heat start in my shoulder. It wasn't a fire that burned; it was light that filled the space. I opened my eyes, and the real world had faded into the background. I was fully on the Spiritual Frontier now. The clinic walls looked like ancient ruins covered in gray moss.
And my arm was there.
It wasn't made of flesh. It was made of pure golden light, solid and vibrant, crackling with energy that reminded me of the midday sun back on the farm. I flexed my fingers of light. The sensation was one of raw power, but also of a heavy responsibility.
The Wraith phased through the wall, chasing the source of negativity, but stopped dead when it saw the golden glow. The creature hissed, a sound like fat hitting a hot griddle.
"Thought you were gonna grab a snack here today, didn't you, pest?" I muttered, sinking into my fighting stance. I didn't learn kung fu or karate. My fighting style came from growing up separating bullfights in the pasture. It was all guts.
The Wraith lunged. It was fast, aiming for my neck.
I raised my left arm. The Arm of the Alliance hummed as it sliced through the air. I didn't try to dodge. Aureus is order and truth; we don't run, we face it.
I grabbed the creature in mid-air.
My hand of light closed around what passed for the throat of that shadowy tick. The black smoke began to sizzle upon contact with my faith. The beast thrashed, trying to scratch me with shadow claws, but the "skin" of my arm was as hard as tempered steel.
"Go back to the hole you crawled out of," I growled.
I squeezed.
There was a dry crack, like a rotten branch snapping, followed by a flash of light. The Wraith disintegrated into ash that vanished before touching the floor.
The light in my arm pulsed one last time and retracted. The heat faded, leaving only the empty sleeve of the lab coat and the phantom pain in my shoulder. The room returned to normal. The gray walls gave way to the white tiles of the clinic.
Bob came out from under the gurney, wagging his tail, and licked my right hand.
The door opened. Dr. Marcos walked in, holding a cup of coffee. He looked lighter, his posture less hunched. The weight on his shoulders was gone.
"Whoa, Dayanne? What happened? Did the lights flicker in here?" he asked, looking around.
I smiled, adjusting the safety pin on my empty sleeve.
"Must have just been a power spike, Doctor. Just the grid acting up. But look, Bob is ready."
He didn't know. No one knew. But as long as I had faith and a horse waiting for me at home, none of these demons would make a home on my shift.
"Let's get to work," I said, feeling hunger strike. "After this, I need to eat some pão de queijo. The fight worked up an appetite."