“What do you mean my sister is about to explode?” Lyam asked as he followed the woman down a hallway.

“Well, your sister's body, you see, it'll just poof! Everything that's inside her will come out.”

“That sounds awful!” Lyam cried out. “Isn't there a way to save her?”

“Um, it's rather too late.” She opened the door to a room. He spotted cryptic tattoos on her arm as she reached for the latch. They were similar to the ones he had seen on the shapecrafters who'd attacked Vermeil.

Lyam ignored that for the time being and walked in after her, following her into the room. It seemed to be a personal library of sorts. With the walls hidden behind shelves full of books and a desk and a chair and a cabinet by the wall. Inside the cabinet were shiny black orbs of some kind that contained what seemed to be blue flowers. Lyam didn't care for any of that. His attention went straight to the girl who was lying on the bear pelt carpet on the floor.

“Emma!” he rushed to her side, crouching on the ground, putting a hand on her cheek, trying to pat her awake from her slumber.

“She can't hear you,” the woman said with an oddly calm voice even though her face looked a bit strained.

“Why can’t she? Last I remember she was slowly gaining consciousness. She isn't even responding to my voice now.”

The woman cleared her throat nervously before speaking, “She ate the Dust Bloom flower. Her body wasn't able to merge with it properly. Now she is stuck in limbo until the bloom will drain her empty of all her life and she'll…well explode.”

“Can't you do anything to stop that?” said Lyam.

The woman shrugged. “I already did what I could to keep her alive thus far.” She pointed at the window from where the sunlight was pouring in and shining on Emma.

On the windowpane, sat a smoky black object shaped like a small plant. It didn't have any green leaves like a regular plant. Instead, it bore twinkling blue circles at the end of each stem. The circles seemed to glow brighter as the sunlight passed through it.

“That's a hollow sapling,” the woman said, “those blue spots are collections of life dust that the sapling is harvesting from the sunlight and sending into your sister's veins. Those blue dots are the only things keeping the dust bloom in her body from destroying her.”

Lyam frowned. “If that thing is keeping her alive, then why did you say that she is going to die soon?”

“Because we are going to lose daylight soon.” The woman shrugged again. “You slept throughout the previous night and the entire afternoon today. It's evening now. And it will soon get dark. Once the sun disappears, the hollow sapling won't be able to collect any life dust. Since the dust bloom in her body won't get any life dust, it will blow her up from inside out.”

“Wait…is this dust bloom flower the same thing that grants the wielders their powers?”

“Yes,” the woman said. “And when your body fails to merge with it properly, you die.” She looked at Emma. “If the sapling wasn't feeding dust to her from outside, she would've died too.”

Lyam couldn't help grimacing again. He looked back down at his sister. How in God's name did she manage to eat such a thing? When did she do it? Was it at the castle?

He felt stupid again. I shouldn't have left her alone but that wolf…

He clenched his fists. He couldn’t dwell on it right now. There had to be some other way.

He looked back up at the woman. “Where else can we find this life dust?”

The woman looked out the window. “Either the sun or anything that's living can provide you with life dust.”

“Trees!” Lyam blurted. “Can we extract life dust from trees?”

“We can. But it won't be enough to last her an entire night. Even a tall tree might only keep her up for barely more than an hour.”

He gazed at her intensely. “Then would it be possible to extract the life dust from me to keep her alive?”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “We can, but you won't be able to sustain her forever either. Your body will also run empty of dust at some point. And she will be short on dust again.”

Lyam felt a lump in his throat. “Isn't there any way to keep her from dying?!”

The woman sighed. “Even if you manage to find a consistent source of life dust for her, she will still be trapped in the limbo.” She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes again. “Is that the kind of childhood you wish her to have? Being eternally asleep while you try to figure out a way to reverse a natural process?”

“Yes!” Lyam snapped without hesitation. “She is just five years old. It wasn't her fault our village was attacked or the fact that we got separated from our mamie or even the fact that she consumed a dangerous flower. It was my mistake. I was the one who left her alone in that castle. I failed to be a better brother. She is just a child, for Fahn’s sake! If mother nature is so hungry for someone's blood, let it be mine. I won't let my sister get punished for my recklessness.”

The woman frowned. “And what will you even do to defy mother nature like that?”

Lyam wasn't looking at her anymore. Neither was he looking at his sister. His eyes had found something else in the room. The two black orbs that were in the cabinet by the wall. The flowers within them seemed to emit an ethereal glow. It looked similar to the glowing oblong shape he’d seen in the castle last night. “Are those the dust bloom flowers?” He pointed at them.

The woman’s eyes went wide. “Hold on now, I can see what's going through your mind. And I can tell you right away that it's not a good idea.”

Lyam just ignored her statement. “If I successfully merge with the flower I can become a wielder. If I become a wielder, I won't be my pathetic self anymore. I’ll have a better chance to cure my sister.”

“You’re being delusional. Also, the crown doesn't allow commoners to become a wielder. You'll be outlawed. The city enforcers will just come and execute you.”

“They can't if I don't get caught.”

“Stop!” the woman snapped at him. “You are clinging to a false hope. Becoming a wielder might let you play with the laws of man. But you won't be above the laws of nature. If anything, you'll just be bound to nature even more. Its powers will always outweigh your own.”

Lyam wasn't listening to her anymore. He rushed for the cabinet. The woman yelled out and formed a fist. The tattoos on her arm glowed.

A smoky black orb blew up in the air in front of Lyam. The small explosion resulted in a burst of wind that threw him back several feet. He slammed into the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room and lay wincing on the floor.

“Stay away from the orbs!” the woman snapped. “Their barrier is delicate and the flower isn't anchored to a life source. If you pull it out of the orb, the flower will start emitting a vibration that won't just drive you insane, but it will also alert every magic user in the vicinity. That involves mutants like that wolf that attacked you last night. The people that burned your village. Also wielders who might've come to investigate–”

Lyam frowned when the woman suddenly paused in her tirade. “Wh-What happened?”

Her face had gone pale. Yet she didn't quite look scared. It was the oddest expression Lyam had ever seen. “Someone entered the forest,” she said, “someone with power. And they are coming our way.”

###

Ten minutes ago.

“So, you are saying that the fire just sparked on its own and it kept spreading?” the man asked. He was wearing a woollen shirt and britches and his leather jerkin had the City Enforcer’s sign on it.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Alda Laurent groaned and rolled her eyes. “How many more times do I have to repeat it? Yes! The fire just began and no matter how hard I tried to put it out, it wouldn't go out. When I looked out my window, I saw that every other house on my street was also aflame.”

“Hm.” The enforcer jotted it down for the tenth time in his notebook. “Did you see anyone suspicious around the neighborhood?”

“For the hundredth time, no, I didn't.” She grit her teeth.

The enforcer narrowed his eyes at his notes. “That's interesting.”

Alda groaned again, leaning back on the pile of burnt stone that she was sitting on. About ten enforcers were surveying the landscape. She wasn’t sure what they were trying to investigate in the scorched land. Was the ash going to give them a better answer than the people? No, she was sure even the ash would get frustrated by the constant re-enquiries.

“You really don't believe me when I say that they used magic, do you?” she said.

The enforcer shook his head. “Lady, you described the kidnappers having tattoos on their arms that glowed.”

“Yes, shapecrafters have tattoos on their arms.” She nodded. “Why is it so hard to believe?”

“Because there aren't many skilled shapecrafters left since the Great Cleansing. At least not the ones skilled enough to cause such a destruction.” The enforcer gestured at the ashen landscape. “But it is indeed true that fire wouldn't have been this bad if it was just another pyromaniac.”

“If you have enough wits to deduce that then why can't you accept that those invaders were shapecrafters?!”

“Because you said they took away the children.”

“So?”

“Why would the few surviving shapecrafters bother with children of the commoners? They sell mighty cheap in the slave market.”

###

“I don't think I'm prepared for this, Felix,” Damien de Croy said as the carriage pulled closer to the burnt village. “Don't you think a more experienced wielder would be better at handling such a big problem?”

Felix looked up at the young lord who was glancing nervously out the coach window. “It was Count de Croy's order to send you, my lord. And it makes perfect sense, considering your skill and the fact that you'll soon be taking over your father's title.”

“I know why father sent me, Felix.” Damien sighed. “But why send me alone? We could've brought along Gabriel. He is also full-dust.”

“Count De Croy wanted you to come alone,” Felix said and looked at him with distaste. “Also you shouldn't use a commoner's slang, Master Damien. Full dust and half-dust is their way of addressing wielders.”

Right, Damien thought, the aristocracy would've called Gabriel what he really was–a basilisk wielder. Damien sighed again. “Pardon me, Felix. And please don’t tell my father about that.”

Felix just nodded with a gracious smile.

Damien looked out of the window again. “However, this is still too big of a matter for me to handle on my own. An entire village burnt down. And the message that the city enforcer's sent said that all the children had been abducted. I don't know how I’m going to face all those parents and what reassurances I can give them.”

Felix looked at him intently. “Master Damien, you are a kind lord and a Basilisk wielder. Entire Rose county knows that and the surviving villagers of Vermeil know that. Those people lost their homes and their families. They are broken, tired and apparently hungry. I don't think they'll bring up more demands than requests for more of your kindness. I know you'll deal with them with your usual grace. Have more faith in yourself.”

The carriage came to a halt. The coachman held the door open for Damien. The young lord took a deep breath and stepped out on the ash-covered ground.

He had barely taken a good look at the wasteland before him when he was hit by a wall of sound. A horde of people had gathered on one burnt patch of the village, screaming and flailing their hands.

Damien and Felix exchanged glances before rushing up to the crowd.

The people were huddled over something, yelling fiercely. They seemed to be cheering for someone.

“Get him!”

“Whack him a good one!”

“The enforcers are scum!”

“Beat him bloody, Alda!”

###

“Get off me, you old hag!” The enforcer tried to free himself. But Alda had him pinned belly-down to the ground, crushing his face into the ash and mud.

Two other enforcers were trying to help their comrade. They weren't doing too good of a job. Other villagers were doing a better job at keeping them off the old woman.

“Putting your hands on a constable enforcer like me is a crime punishable by death!” the enforcer cried out, still unable to free himself.

“Fine! I’ll drag you to hell with me for what you said about my grandchildren!” Alda shoved his face back into the dirt.

“Get him, Alda!” another woman yelled from the crowd.

Damien looked at Felix, bewildered. “This is worse than what I expected!” he yelled over the screaming people.

“No. This is your chance to make an impression, Master Damien.”

The young lord grimaced, glancing nervously back at the brawl. Then he snapped his fingers.

Alda felt a sharp pain in her head as if someone had shoved a needle right through her ear. Her anger dissipated like smoke.

“Let him go.”

The words were as loud as a church bell. But she seemed to be the only one who heard them. And the sound of it was painful. She let go of the enforcer and clutched her head. The man shoved her off himself.

The other enforcers were about to apprehend her when Felix pulled out a silver whistle and blew into it. The shrill sound of it made everyone go quiet and still.

Except for Alda who was still groaning and gripping her head on the ground. Damien scrambled ahead to help her up to her feet. “Are you alright?” He felt flustered. He hoped his [mindshackle] skill hadn't been too harsh on the old woman's brain.

She seemed confused and in pain but he could tell that she wasn't the helpless kind. Also, it was no secret that this woman harboured some hate for the state. So he quietly stepped back, granting her some space before she could make him the next target of her rage.

She recovered quite swiftly from the pain of [mindshackle]. She took a moment to look at Damien, look at his regal attire. Then she saw the wielder’s golden armband on his sleeve.

The rage flashed in her eyes again.

“So the count finally sent a man of magic, eh?” Alda spat. “Are you here to wave your hand and chant some spells? Are you going to summon our children out of thin air?”

Damien's eyes went wide. He almost fumbled when he spoke. “I'm, uh, I’m here to investigate what happened to the village.”

“Investigate?” another woman called out from the crowd. “Can't you see what happened? Our homes are burnt. Our children are gone.”

“Tell us what are you going to do to bring them back!” another voice yelled.

“Silence!” Damien snapped at everyone. “Those are the exact things that I'm here to do! But I can't do it if everyone keeps trying to kill each other!”

The commoners went quiet. The enforcers held back their scowls. Felix looked proudly at the young lord.

Damien looked at the old woman who was still glaring at him. “Don't you know the consequences of assaulting a city enforcer?”

The old woman scoffed. “He is convinced my grandchildren died in this fire. If they are really dead, why should I care about any consequences?”

“And what if the children survived? They'll come back and find out their mamie died by her own stupidity. Is that what you want?” Damien cocked his head.

The woman glared even more intensely at him. But there was also a hint of begrudging agreement in her eyes.

“You know something,” Damien said with a narrowed gaze. “Either the enforcers haven't been asking the right questions or you just don't think they will make good use of the information. Well, now is your chance to speak.”

The woman looked down at the ash around her feet. “My Lyam and Emma didn't die. I know they survived. Neither did they get abducted.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because my Lyam runs the fastest when he is afraid. And he loves his sister. He wouldn't have let those shapecrafters get to her.”

Damien looked at another enforcer. “Does the description of the shapecrafters fit those of the invaders?”

“Yes, my lord,” the enforcer said. “Multiple accounts have confirmed that the invaders had tattooed arms that glowed, followed by something unnatural happening.”

Magic is certainly involved, Damien thought, there’s no doubt.

“But, my lord, why would the shapecrafters invade a peasant village?” the soiled enforcer said. “There was nothing of value that was stolen and slavers don't pay a good sum for young commoners.”

“They still took the children,” Damien said, “and their description does fit that of shapecrafters. That's a good enough place to start. We can worry about their motive later.” He looked around at the scorched piece of land. A job this effective had to have been fire magic. Which only solidified the fact that it had to be shapecrafters. Wielders couldn't perform elemental magic. He looked back at the old woman. “Are you sure your grandson would've managed to survive?”

The woman nodded without hesitation.

Damien decided to give it a shot. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again the world that he saw was devoid of depth and color. Every shape was a two dimensional set of lines and every person was a hollow silhouette vibrating with blue life dust. This was [soul sight]. It always came in handy whenever Damien went hunting with Gabriel. Damien could easily pin down the location of hidden prey in a three mile radius. Anything beyond three miles got vague. If the woman's grandchildren were really alive then Damien would at least catch their vibrations with his skill in the same fashion.

The village is on fire, he thought, I am being chased. Where would I run?

Damien's eyes happened on the forest fringe. From somewhere deep in the woods, life dust pulsed in a way it would in a human child. “Fascinating.”