The Midnight Sea was devouring the land.

Yog-Zera could see the pitch black horizon after only a forty minute walk away from the village. A week ago it had been a forty-five minute walk to see the home of the Abyssians through the namesake of the Hidden Mists. Yog-Zera bit her lip; her tail thrashed in the dirt in her anxiety. She pulled the hood of her cloak tighter over her head as the chill of the night air flowed through her body. Or perhaps it was the chill that came from the haunting sight in front of her.

She had been warning the chief for months that the sea had been too active. The sea used to be a solid hike through the winding canyons and ghostly willows growing on their sides. Being a good two hours away, it was no threat. However, now it has crossed over half the distance, and no one else has yet to notice the looming omen. She began to walk back to the village with hurried steps. The air carrying the scent of sea slowly giving way to the mostly neutral scent of the rest of the Hidden Lands. She wondered what had happened to the port village a day away.

Crossing through the ancestral gateway that held totems of all the previous village chieftains Yog-Zera began to see the wooden pillars soaring up and into the denser mists up above. Counting them out, she went past nine of them and to the left two more before finding the symbol she had carved before. Her wings spread behind her and began to beat, creating swirling currents that danced through the mists and briefly exposing her tar colored limbs to the air. Wrapping the cloak tighter around herself, she began to ascend. Wings launching her in spirals around the wooden pillar.

When she got to the top and the building that sat on the thick stilts, her claws sank into the ghost willow lumber. Peeking her head over the edge of the rope bridge connecting it to the next building, she checked to see if anyone was out. Thankfully the coast was clear. Perhaps that was not the best saying considering the coast was definitely more of a threat than the docile clansmen. Hoisting herself up, she pulled out the keyring attached to her belt and unlocked the front door of her home. Slipping inside and having barely opened the door, she finally let out a sigh of relief, taking solace in the familiar dim light.

Taking off her cloak and setting it on the coat rack on the wall, she unchained her tome and set it in its holster at the door. It was dangerous to carry that around when she wasn't being careful. She ran a clawed finger over the velvet cover. If the chief knew she had taken it from the forbidden halls, she would be sacrificed to the midnight sea. Perhaps it wasn't wise to leave it near the door. Pausing for a moment, she shrugged. The multitude of enchantments it had both come with and she had added made it hard to even notice, let alone recognize. She guessed the pompous Archdemon didn't know most of the books in the forbidden halls.

What a waste, she thought. The only person who had access to all that knowledge and he wasted it out of petty fear. Scoffing, she walked down the entry hall and into her study.

The walls had every inch covered in shelves. Those shelves in turn were stuffed as full as they possibly could be with books, scrolls, coffers of materials, and magical items. They were the most useless of magical items and the materials sub par to the extreme but they were hers. And very little was. The home barely had enough room for this study and a single bed in what was supposed to be the closet. What need had she for more clothes storage. There was too much knowledge being wasted in this town. Every book she couldn't buy or steal from the idiots in this gods forsaken village was wasted. Sold for simply food at worst or affinity relics at best. Her vermillion magic crackled at her fingertips, devouring the air and leaving a vacuum in its passing.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Sitting at the single desk in her home, she folded her wings and leaned back into her chair. Pulling out her journal, she wrote down her findings. They wouldn't take it seriously until it was too late. No one left the village's west border. It was filled with demon beasts and the clansmen were no fighters. They were simple people. Since the last gathering of the chiefs where the chief was disgraced with his ignorance. Since his ascension to his position ruined the economy. Since he sacrificed her parents for dabbling in 'Forbidden Crafts'.

Her vermilion Devour affinity and Potency affinity mixed, the quill in her hand falling in two pieces as the middle simply vanished. Her claws dug into her flesh drawing beads of crimson as she fought to maintain her consciousness of what was real. She had accidently activated Eldritch Magic again and opened her insight. It was always jarring when she wasn't prepared.

She looked out the single window above her desk. The mist barely hindering her as her Eyes of Shadow peeled away its secrets. The earliest risers, the fishermen who made their way to the lake in the mountain, were slowly meandering through the network of ladders and rope bridges of the village that connected all the buildings built between the canyon walls. She missed the moon sometimes. Flying above the canyons was a near death sentence with the slicing winds above the canyons, but if the mists were blown just right you could get a glimpse.

Looking to her shelves she began to pull out book by book what she needed. The village was doomed and she had nothing keeping her here anymore. If she hadn't been deep in enchanting when the Neptunian caravan arrived she may have been able to buy passage through the Realm of Lost Bones. They would not be back for a month. That gave her just enough time to prepare her escape from the village with none the wiser. All the better for it since she was planning on robbing the forbidden halls and chieftain blind before leaving. If she did it right, they wouldn't realize it was her before they had bigger problems to deal with.

Looking at the map of the town she started the plan step by step. Writing it down would help organize it but also leave crucial evidence even if she destroyed it. The mist shamans would be able to pull it back from the void. Or at least a copy of it. She'd already made the trip past the guards patrolling the lake caves and through the hidden passage behind the forbidden halls secret door. She snorted and shook her head. Yet another example how the right knowledge could make something impossible infinitely easy. The issue was returning with all the books she wanted to keep. They would be too much to lift let alone get through the narrow passage. She looked at the village map and her mouth curled into a sneer. She'd rob the chieftain first then. She knew he kept a dimensional bag in his safe. The enchantments hadn't been maintained in too long. He could thank the sacrifice of her parents for that. Without them maintaining the enchantments, it would be boringly easy to disable them and steal it and whatever gold lay inside. It wasn't enough to sate her hatred for the man but it was a good step all the same.

Pulling out a thermos that still kept the tea warm from earlier in the night, she took a long sip. A good framework. More information was needed to make it perfect though like the guard rotations or the blueprints of the chieftains home. What time his wife and child went to sleep and which routes they took. The housemaids nightly cleaning duties and which rooms were generally preferred to start. So on and so on. A good burglary was ninety percent planning and ten percent execution. She read that in a novel once. She truly agreed with the words. As the sun began to creep over the horizon, the blinds slid shut hiding the night-gaunt from sight. She had much to do but she was tired. Yawning she chugged the rest of the tea and climbed into bed. The smell of ink and paper lulling her to sleep.