Past the gate, the line of people going the other way stretched on and on. Every spare corner was occupied by newly arrived families reuniting with city dwelling relatives.

Once she was inside, Vero stepped off the main road into the tightly packed alleys of the city. Like in most cities, the alleys formed a maze for the non-resident. The tower showed her the direction of her destination. At least when it was not obscured by the dirty overhanging upper stories of the surrounding buildings. However, even knowing the location of her ultimate goal, there was still no telling which directions led into dead ends.

She kept a close eye out for threats. With what passed for the law focused on the threats outside the walls, the threats inside the walls would be looking for victims. Vero had killed humans in self-defense before, but she did not enjoy it. It would upset her sleep for weeks afterwards, so she preferred to do what she could to avoid conflict.

In particular, she was frightened of being cornered in a dead end by a gang. She was confident that she was more than a match for a single robber, but without a slashing long sword she would never stand a chance against multiple foes. She doubled back on herself several times, looking for the same face to appear more than once, which would indicate she was being followed.

Despite her healthy paranoia, it seemed no one in the city was taking any notice of her. Everywhere she went looked almost empty. Away from the main thoroughfare, it appeared as though the city had been almost abandoned. The only people she saw had the look of refugees from the countryside, seeking shelter in one of the abandoned homes.

Eventually Vero made her way through the labyrinth of cramped muddy streets to the curtain wall which surrounded the tower. She felt the chilling effect of the tower there again as she drew closer, despite the warm late summer evening.

The earl therein must have lost interest in maintaining the defensiveness of his fortress some time ago, because the houses of the city had been allowed to creep right up to the walls. The defenders would only have a very limited range of fire in the event of an attack. Although she could not see or hear any sign of defenders at all.

The wall was tall, but some of the surrounding buildings went up three stories. Vero walked until she found one such building which looked empty. It did not take long.

The neighborhood was quieter than any other she had seen since her arrival. It did not appear to be one of the wealthier districts. That struck her as odd, since merchants and rich men were typically drawn towards loci of power like the tower represented.

Vero went inside and ascended to the top floor. Then she pulled a sturdy looking table from the second floor up after her. Standing on top of it, in the center of the widest room, she used her dagger as a chisel to open up the ceiling.

It was much easier than she had anticipated, which gave her some concern that the roof might not support her weight. Up through the hole, it looked to be perhaps eight or nine feet higher from the roof to a handhold on the wall she could grab. A difficult leap, but not an impossible one for her- after the proper preparation.

It was early evening by this time, and Vero decided to wait until dark. She laid out a dinner for herself which was identical in composition to her mid-day meal. Once she had finished, she took off her leather traveling boots to don a pair of cloth slippers. Then she hiked her dress up above the knees and tied off the excess into a knot to keep it out of her way.

She prepared a plain bowl for her arcane working. The barrel looking knight should have been more careful searching her bag. She had not even the need to justify the components for her spellcraft to get them past the checkpoint.

Crushed raven feathers and certain ground herbs – eyebright, chief among them – went into the bowl. A lead weight of known density was placed at a precise angle to her and the bowl. All the lines were marked in chalk. Everything was set exactly in its place.

Even after her preparations were complete, she waited to begin the casting until she was certain the sun was completely below the horizon, and the moon had fully risen to hear her.

With a grimace of pain, she ran her dagger horizontally along her left palm. As the blood welled up, she let it fall into the mixture and combined it all together. She wiped the resulting compound along both of her legs, and then across her eyelids. As she did so, she chanted an entreaty to Maiden Luna to hide her presence, but to illuminate her eyes; and then another to Terra to lighten her grip.

Once she was finished, she pinched some aloe into the wound and uttered a final prayer to Vedio, the Lord of Medicine, before bandaging it.

Keeping her blade in hand, Vero re-ascended the table and easily climbed onto the roof. She touched the stone wall and found it unnaturally cold. Even with her steps lightened, her feet still caused the roof beneath her to tremble slightly. After taking a moment to test her footing, she took a running leap up to the wall.

She kicked off the wall to push herself up higher, and then just caught the edge before drifting too far away. In the end, she was left easily holding her near weightless body with just her finger tips.

Below her, even the reduced impact of her leap had proven too much for the decrepit building and the roof collapsed in on itself. Perhaps it had been the fault of the spell. Workings to alter the natural pull of the Earth Mother could have unpredictable effects on the gravity of the surrounding area.

Vero flinched at the crash of falling timber, but even after a minute of waiting, still no one had arrived to investigate. Her pack was buried somewhere in that wreckage, but there was no time to worry about that. She supposed that she could simply have the Marquis’ men dig it out for her later, if she succeeded.

Finding a bit of leverage for her feet on the uneven stone wall, she poked her head above the edge. No one was walking the grounds of the keep. She could see firelight through windows at the base of the tower, and more light from inside what appeared to be a set of barracks.

She pulled herself onto the top of the wall and readied her weapon again. Wooden scaffolding on the other side allowed defenders to look over the wall, and Vero used it to descend into the inner courtyard. She shied away from the barracks. Instead, she approached what looked like a set of stables, although no horses were present. She also climbed this structure. After taking several minutes finding handholds, she then climbed the tower itself up to a dark window.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

No one was present inside. In fact, the room was completely empty. She clambered through the window and caught her breath before putting her dagger away and untying her dress. If someone caught only a glimpse of her, she hoped to be mistaken for a servant in the poor light.

Inside the tower the feeling of chill was much more intense. She placed her palm directly onto the floor, and then felt as high up on the wall as she could reach. If her guess was correct, the cold was only an imagined physical response to the spiritual pressure emanating from something in the tower. The floor was cold, but the wall felt as though it was covered by a layer of frost. Vero surmised that her goal lay upwards.

After listening at the door to make certain there was no one on the other side, she slipped through. To complete her disguise as a servant Vero would have liked to find something to carry with her, to give the impression she was in the middle of some errand. However, she could not find even the most basic furnishings in any room she passed. Only bare room after bare room.

As soon as she found the stairs, she took them upwards. Even as she neared the top, she still saw no sign of any of the tower’s residents. By the time she reached the final floor, she was shivering from the cold.

The first few rooms she searched were empty, just as those on the lower levels. The whole place had the unnatural feeling of a nightmare. At last, she found one which was outfitted as a bedroom. Vero peered her head inside, and had to suppress a start of surprise when she saw a figure sleeping in the bed, only a foot away from her.

She had fortune on her side for once, he had not sensed her presence and remained fast asleep. Vero had never seen him before, but his orange-red hair and full beard matched the description of the tower’s earl.

Beyond him, Vero could see another figure in the bed, but she could not make out anything about his sleeping mate other than a lump beneath the blankets. She knew the Earl had no surviving family and no wife. The Marquis had not mentioned anything about a lover, which must have been an obvious subject for investigation once he noticed the wavering loyalty of his vassal.

Nothing in the room showed any obvious signs of being wrong. An apparent island of normality at the end of this bizarre tower. Everything else there seemed typical for the apartments of a nobleman. Although several items, like the implements for needlework in the back corner, suggested the residence of a woman there.

She balked at the prospect, but for more information, Vero knew she needed a closer look at whatever was beside the Earl in his bed.

Slowly, she worked the door open far enough that she could slip inside, praying that the hinges would not creak. Once there was enough space, she held her breath and sidestepped her way inside – brushing within inches of the Earl – who slept facing her direction. She stepped around the side of the bed until she was on the opposite side. She found that the blanket had been pulled up on that side of the bed, over the lump’s head.

Vero should have known not to expect anything less, but a litany of curses ran through her mind regardless. Any chance of a ruse would be gone if either of them woke up, so Vero drew her dagger once again. Slitting the Earl’s throat was certainly one way to solve the Marquis’ problem, but it was also certainly not her preferred method. She would take it only as a last resort.

As carefully as she could, Vero grabbed a hold of the blanket near the lump’s midsection. She pulled it downwards, as gently as she could manage.

Vero bit her knuckle so as not to scream.

Beneath the blanket was the desiccated skull of a human. She released the blanket where it was, but she had seen enough to surmise that the full naked corpse of a woman lay beside the Earl. No longer held in place by the blanket, or perhaps by the horrible thing’s own evil design, its head slowly turned over to face her with hollow eye sockets.

Flee you fool! There is naught here but death! Run while you can!

Vero backed away; her mind filled with nothing but a sense of stark animal terror. She moved around the bed again, refusing to turn away from the hideous form. As much as she feared to look at it, she feared also what it might do out of her sight.

She was nearly through the door, when a sudden iron grip on her arm brought her up short.

“Thief! Thief!” Spittle flew from his mouth as the Earl bellowed, uncomprehending in his rage.

Acting more in instinct than as a reasoned defense, Vero drove her dagger directly into the man’s wrist. The Earl let go and clutched at his arm, screeching in pain. She took the opportunity to pass through the door and yank it closed behind her. The Earl continued to cry out for assistance, but did not pursue her.

Vero began heading towards the tower stairs as quickly as she could. The shouts for help followed her down, but she did not believe that they would be heard all the way into the inhabited parts of the tower.

Away from that horrible room the unreasoning panic which had descended on her began to recede. Had that been the work of the spirit? She needed to get away and plan a new course of action.

She had only gone a single level before she already heard the sound of boots coming up towards her.

“Drop the knife!” A man called up to her.

He was armed with a longsword, but as he was fighting up the tower in the dark, he would be at a disadvantage. He had not pulled on any mail, and Vero felt sure that she could kill or maim him easily enough. She could also hear that there were many more on their way behind him, still out of sight.

Vero dropped her weapon as she had been ordered, and held out her hands to feign surrender. “You need to listen to me! There’s something wrong with the Earl!”

The man climbed towards her cautiously. “I understand. I’m listening to you.”

More men appeared behind him, but he motioned for them to stop and they did so. He spoke very slowly and clearly. By his demeanor, it was obvious that he thought she was a madwoman and was attempting to placate her.

Still, she no longer had any other options but to try and win his support. “He’s keeping a corpse in his room. I believe he may be possessed by a spirit.”

The man put away his blade as she spoke. “Do not be afraid. Everything is going to be fine. Come here and I can help you.”

“I’ll go with you, but please- you must check the Earl’s room. You’ll see I’m telling the truth!”

“A man does not simply barge into his lord’s bedroom demanding to search it.”

Vero was about to object, but it was too late. The knight was close enough grasp her and grabbed a hold of her wrists.

“I’ve got her!” He cried out, and the other guards sheathed their weapons and began to come up towards them.

“You need to listen! If he’s possessed this battle against the Marquis may all be a mistake. You could all die for no reason!”

One of the men coming up the stairs brought a torch with him. In the brighter light Vero looked right into the face of the man who held her. She recognized him. It was the templar who had questioned her at the gate.

A look of recognition passed across his face as well. “That scent- jasmine…?”

The brief moment of confusion was the last chance she had, so Vero took it. She rammed her knee between the templar’s legs as hard as she could. He started to crumble to the ground, but he pulled her down with him as he did so. Vero clenched her jaw and thrust herself forwards with a headbutt to his face.

This second attack caused him to release her wrist and grab his head as he fell backwards into his companions. Her own head was spinning, and she could barely see through the pain. Vero ran backwards the way she had come through memory.

She reached the door to the Earl’s room and threw herself into it. Only now there was a force fighting against her from the other side. Vero tried again and again, but something was pushing back from the other direction. She felt it begin to give way for just a moment, before an arm wrapped around her waist from behind and tossed her to the ground.

“It’s in there!” She tied to explain, but only managed the first word before feeling a heavy boot strike her on the side of the head.