Aubrey stepped into the Thornhaven district as morning mist curled around the cobbled streets like ancient spirits waking to the intrusion of light. The sun, a pale scribe hesitant to inscribe its full glory upon the day, filtered through a weave of fog and the smoke rising from quaint chimneys.

It had taken nearly an hour of travel in a steam coach departing from the station at the Ironworks district. Now she strode with an excited bounce in her step down the broad avenue that served as the district's main thoroughfare, feeling invigorated by the prospect of what secrets lay ahead.

This district sat closer to the outskirts of Mordenstradt's walled limits, west of the Ironworks district and adjacent to the Voxhall Ward. Whereas the Ironworks' name fits its description well, Thornhaven's name made the area seem like an extension of some remote, hidden corner of a forest, isolated from civilization.

But it was anything but that.

The air here felt different—thicker, colder, more cloying—as though some invisible miasma clung to every surface.

The architecture was a jarring contrast to the urban aesthetic of Voxhall and the Ironworks. Instead of clean, polished granite and iron, the buildings bore rough, weathered stone covered with cracks and vines, looking more akin to abandoned ruins than ordinary homes. Rooftops peaked at odd angles, often at sharp inclines, giving them a jagged, pointed look.

Many houses had an overgrown garden in front. Unruly plant growth sprawled unchecked everywhere, weaving through fences and clinging to walls with gnarled claws, obscuring every window. The smell of damp earth filled her nostrils.

Ornate wrought-iron lamp posts lined the street every ten meters, illuminating the mist and creating pockets of warmth and light in the encroaching fog.

Narrow alleys branched off the main thoroughfare, winding in random directions and disappearing into shadows. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to how the buildings had been erected, as though placed by a mad architect on a drunken whim.

Not even the streets followed a straight path. Instead, they twisted and turned like the scripture of some demented linguist. There wasn't even any signage to help orient someone new to this maze-like layout.

How does anyone know where to go here? This place made her mind go all tilty!

Something felt distinctly off about this place.

Even with its proximity to the more developed and wealthy districts, this part of the city had an air of desolation and abandonment, as though it existed on an entirely different plane—not like the impoverished corners of Gallows Row where those forced to survive on scraps eked out a living in run-down tenements and ramshackle structures, but like the preserved remains of some old civilization that got left behind.

Few people occupied the streets, with those who did minding their own business. Occasionally, one might catch her eye as she strode through the winding alleyways, but for the most part, nobody paid her much attention.

Every building—as far as she could see—boasted a heavy, shuttered window covered with thick metal bars, and the ones without shutters or windows possessed locked iron doors that refused access.

No sightings of any constables—though given the way the entire area felt like it wasn't quite attached to the rest of the city, maybe no guards were required to keep the peace here.

Where to start?

The note she'd taken from Julian's safe—stowed safely in her satchel—said to head towards the Obsidian Tower in this district. Shouldn't be too difficult, right?

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Aubrey walked for what seemed like hours through streets and alleyways, winding her way deeper into Thornhaven. She kept to herself, not bothering to strike up any conversation with the few people she encountered. Many of them gave her strange looks, but no one spoke to her directly.

She could feel their eyes tracking her movements as she passed by.

Every time she turned a corner, expecting to see something new, she'd instead find herself faced with more identical-looking structures, lined up like bricks in a wall. It felt like she was going around in circles, despite having never taken a single step in a particular direction.

Finally, she decided to stop and ask someone for directions.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Aubrey began politely, approaching an elderly woman sitting on a bench outside of a cafe. "Can you tell me where the Obsidian Tower is?"

The woman looked up at her with tired eyes, frowning slightly as she processed Aubrey's question. She took a long drag from her pipe and exhaled a cloud of fragrant smoke before answering.

"You'll find it at the heart of the district, dear," the woman replied with a wry smile. "Just follow the main avenue until you reach its gates."

She left the main avenue a long while ago. The problem was that she couldn't seem to find her way back to it. And with all these nonsensical twists and turns, who knows how far she'd walked off course?

"I've lost my way a bit. Would you mind directing me?" Aubrey asked, returning the woman's smile.

"Hm, well..." The woman looked thoughtful for a moment before gesturing with her pipe in one direction. "Continue along this street here, then take a left at the crossroads. Once you reach the fountain, make another left and keep going straight until you reach the main avenue. Can't miss it."

Aubrey gave her a grateful nod and set off in the direction she'd indicated. Hopefully, she wouldn't end up even more lost than before.

As she walked, she found herself momentarily waylaid by the sound of distant, haunting music. It drifted through the fog, coming from somewhere nearby. Aubrey paused to listen for a moment, trying to discern its source. The melody sounded strange and alien, yet somehow familiar.

Curiosity drew her toward the source—a narrow plaza hemmed in by towering edifices cloaked in ivy and moss. In the center of this cobblestone court, a small crowd had gathered, their bodies cloaked in the heavy garb of Mordenstradt citizens, with muted, drab colors and modest cuts.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Aubrey slipped into the assembly, trying to get closer to see what held their attention.

The performance that unfolded before her was like none she had ever witnessed. At the heart of it was a figure clad entirely in flowing, dark fabric, their face obscured by a mask that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light. Around them, smaller figures moved, draped in similarly dark veils, each adorned with glinting bits of what looked like broken mirrors and shards of stained glass.

The central figure began to dance, movements fluid and strangely disjointed, as if they were under the command of the eerie, lilting music that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. The melody was performed by an unseen choir, their instruments producing sounds that were not quite musical but not quite noise—whistles that mimicked the wind, strings that sounded like rain, and percussion that mimicked the crackle of fire.

As the dance progressed, the figures around the central dancer mirrored their movements but with subtle delays, creating a visual echo that disoriented the eye. The shards of glass and mirror sewn into their costumes caught the dim light, casting reflections on the faces of the crowd and the walls of the surrounding buildings, turning the entire plaza into a shifting kaleidoscope of light and shadow.

Aubrey watched, transfixed, unable to tear her gaze away. The strange, disorienting dance seemed to call to her, pulling her into its hypnotic embrace. She swayed along with the music, lost in its eerie beauty.

The performance ended all too soon, the dancers disappearing into the mist as abruptly as they'd appeared. The crowd slowly dispersed, murmuring among themselves as they left the plaza. Aubrey remained behind, lingering at the edge of the empty space, reluctant to break the spell that had fallen over her.

After a few moments, she tore herself away and continued on her path, following the old woman's directions.

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The academic sector of Thornhaven unfolded before her. Past a wide stone bridge arching over a flowing river, Aubrey saw an expanse of square buildings surrounded by carefully tended gardens and patches of wild forest. They were unlike any structures she'd seen in Mordenstradt; enormous stone constructs of interlocking pieces with numerous high windows—their gray façades framed by lattices of vines.

While most of the edifices appeared to be empty, with many of their windows darkened or boarded up, some still stood open, light pouring out from within. Aubrey spotted a few people walking in and out of the buildings' massive doors, which looked large enough to allow entry by carriage.

Aubrey kept walking through the neighborhood, taking in the sight of the strange architecture and lush greenery. This place felt like a university or research campus—at least, what she'd envisioned those places would look like. She even saw signs marking various buildings as libraries and laboratories.

She spotted a single, more elaborate tower-like structure rising from the center of the grounds.

This was likely the Obsidian Tower mentioned in the notes. The tower loomed above all others, its onyx spire piercing the foggy sky like a black blade. A sprawling complex of classrooms and dormitories surrounded the main tower, its grounds blanketed in fallen leaves and cobblestones. Aubrey could see students—or maybe they were teachers?—in uniforms bustling between buildings, engaged in various activities.

As she approached the gates leading to the tower, she noticed several guards standing watch over the entrance. They wore white robes trimmed with gold, their faces concealed by ornate masks adorned with intricate carvings. Their gloved hands rested on the pommels of long swords belted at their hips.

Aubrey veered away from the main gate, deciding it best not to attempt entry just yet. They probably had some way of detecting Unhallowed beings that might alert them to her presence. Just getting to know the lay of the land for now should suffice.

With one last look at the Obsidian Tower, Aubrey turned and made her way back through the academic grounds, slipping back into the dense, winding streets of Thornhaven.

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Aubrey retraced her steps, finding herself once again in the city's main thoroughfare. The evening sun painted the sky with deep shades of orange and crimson as night began to fall over the district. Streetlamps flickered to life, casting pools of warm light along the sidewalks. A chill wind blew through the street, sending leaves skittering across the cobblestones.

She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, shivering slightly. As she continued walking, she noticed a few of the locals had retreated indoors, perhaps to seek refuge from the cold. The streets became even more deserted than before, with only a handful of people braving the fading light.

Aubrey hurried along towards the station, hoping to catch the last steam coach that would take her back to the Ironworks station. But as she neared the edge of Thornhaven, an unexpected tableau unfolded before her.

Amidst the tendrils of twilight mist, two figures stood, casting long shadows against the flickering gas lamps. Their presence prickled at her senses, and her instincts screamed caution, yet curiosity drew her closer.

The taller of the two, a figure shrouded in an intricate cloak, seemed to converse softly with his companion, a lithe form dressed in a bodice of dark leather and a skirt that melded with the murk of the fading day.

The man's hands moved with deliberate grace, manipulating what appeared to be thin strips of paper etched with inscrutable symbols—ofuda, perhaps. The woman, meanwhile, adjusted the grip on her crossbow, her posture alert as she scanned the surrounding streets.

As Aubrey drew nearer, she could make out their words.

"You're certain the trail leads here?" the man asked, his voice carrying an unfamiliar accent.

"Yes, I'm sure of it," the woman replied, her tone confident and firm. "The rift has opened in this district, though I can't tell where just yet."

The man—though now that Aubrey had a better view, he appeared more around her age—was a vivid portrayal of scholarly dishevelment, his dark hair tousled as if he had recently run his fingers through it in deep thought. His cloak, though worn, was decorated with talismanic sigils that shimmered faintly. A black shirt and gray trousers sat under the cloak, while a red tie held his collar closed. The cuffs of his sleeves were undone, revealing a pale forearm adorned with an onyx bracelet.

He carried a cane, but the way he held it suggested he didn't need it for walking. Perhaps it held a secret weapon within?

His companion, on the other hand, looked a little younger than him, though her countenance was sharp and focused, with keen green eyes that reminded Aubrey of a cat's. A cascade of auburn curls framed her face, and her skin was dusted with light freckles. She wore a bodice of leather armor that appeared to have been mended many times, and her skirt fluttered in the wind, revealing black tights and sturdy boots.

Around her waist, vials and pouches filled with various trinkets hung from a belt, clinking softly with each poised step she took. The crossbow she carried seemed like it had seen plenty of action, though its intricate design suggested it was more than just a basic hunting tool.

"The sooner we find this breach, the better," the man muttered. "These things tend to escalate quickly if left unchecked."

"We'll track it down, Levy," the young woman assured him. "It won't get away from us this time."

"I hope you're right, Seraphine." He sighed and shook his head. "If it has anything to do with what happened at that concert last week..."

Aubrey's ears perked up at the mention of her performance. Were they referring to her?!

Aubrey approached them cautiously, trying to skirt around them so as not to attract too much attention. As she moved past, however, the woman—Seraphine—turned her gaze, locking eyes with Aubrey.

The young woman's emerald irises gleamed in the dim light, filled with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Her features softened slightly, and a hint of a smile touched her lips.

"Good evening," Seraphine said, giving Aubrey a slight nod.

"Evening," Aubrey replied, her tone guarded.

She kept walking, but the woman's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Levy, my bracelet is reacting... There's an Unhallowed nearby."

"Where?" Levy asked, looking around. His hand gripped his cane tightly, his posture suddenly alert.

Seraphine turned back towards Aubrey, her eyes narrowing. "There..."