The large blue flower in the garden of the Willowcreek Medical Centre drooped slightly, neglected after Penelope had left it untended while the clinic was closed. A shame, really, as even a single sapling of the plant was worth nearly half her monthly income. Not only was it rare in this region, but its leaves could be ground into a fine powder for pain-relieving teas, and its fleshy roots could be boiled to enhance the potency of certain potions. For years, Penelope had poured her heart into caring for the plant, part of her hoping to set a record for the continent's largest blue luminescent mistbloom. Just a few days without care had been enough for its health to falter.

She sat in the grass, staring at the plant. A single droplet of water slid down one of its petals—a remnant from the watering she’d given it moments ago. Something about the garden and her plants always helped her organize her thoughts. She hadn’t anticipated the aftermath of Molly’s death, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they had indirectly caused it all. They’d done everything in their power to help Molly, but perhaps turning her over to the Institute would have been the wiser choice. At least then Erica’s wrath might have been directed elsewhere, fewer lives might have been lost, and Penelope wouldn’t be grappling with this guilt.

The man Ms. Rivers had attacked that night hadn't survived his injuries. The metal of his armor had heated quicker than any forge she had ever visited, searing to his skin and damaging his flesh beyond repair. That Erica could wield such destructive power was beyond alarming—especially for a small town like Willowcreek.

Given that the only plausible explanation for the incident involved magic, the investigation into Erica’s crimes would undoubtedly be both extensive and grueling. With Molly’s body missing, it was almost certain that the Institute would bring in not just the various churches but also the Arcanium Index. Were it not for the ongoing war, the situation with Night Pox might have been declared a national crisis. Yet, with fear already widespread, the Institute would likely attempt to conceal the matter while conducting their inquiries in secret.

If Penelope had more money, she would have loved to join the Arcanium Index. The prestigious magical research academy could have taught her far more than she already knew about herbalism, magical plants, and potion-making. But their exorbitant membership fees ensured that magic remained a privilege of the wealthy. And now, with her career as a medical professional on the brink of collapse, any hopes of joining the academy were fading fast.

The door to the garden creaked open behind her, and Doctor William Witherbark stepped out, joining her in the shade of the single tree surrounded by flowers and herbs.

“Are the people from the Institute here yet?” Penelope asked with a sigh, carefully sprinkling a small bag of ashes onto the soil beneath the wilting blue flower she had once treasured.

“Not yet, but Lore’leia is giving the cleaning staff hell. She wants the place spotless before they arrive,” William replied, crouching beside her on the grass.

“No surprise there. I’m shocked they’re not here already. Lore’leia must be furious—she’s been sucking up to them for years with nothing to show for it.”

“Yeah, and now, with Molly’s body missing, we’re completely at their mercy,” William said with a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know what to tell my wife.”

“Not the truth, that’s for sure. She’d never forgive you if she found out we let a kid die and then somehow managed to misplace her corpse,” Penelope said with an awkward chuckle. The attempt at humor did little to ease the guilt gnawing at her. “Not to mention how the disappearance of that body could put the entire nation at risk.”

“I still don’t understand how her body just… disappeared,” William muttered, scratching the back of his head where a large bump had formed. Even after several days, the injury from Erica’s thrown vase was swollen and painful, a deep cherry-red bulge.

“Do you think Erica’s behind it?”

“I have no idea. All of this feels surreal…” William murmured, shaking his head.

“Have you started looking for a new job? Or are you planning to leave town like I am?” Penelope asked, leaning back against the tree and removing her glasses to wipe the dust from them with the fabric inside her robes.

“You’re leaving?” William asked, startled.

“Well, if my career’s already over, I might as well take a permanent vacation to the Everspring Isles. I’ll drink tea and tend to a garden of exotic plants for the rest of my life. Besides, I’d probably be the wealthiest person there, considering how poor the region is.”

“That also makes you a prime target for bandits and those warmonger clans,” William countered, his tone filled with pessimism.

“Then I’ll stimulate the local economy by hiring a small army of guards,” Penelope retorted, slipping her glasses back on.

William sighed, and the two sat in silence for a moment. Enclosed by the clinic walls, the garden was sheltered from the wind, but the cold seeped in regardless, leaving them both shivering. Finally, William broke the silence.

“We’ll miss you once you leave. I hope you’ll have tea with me and Riley at least one more time before you go.”

“I won’t leave until I’m cleared from the investigation,” Penelope replied. “Leaving the country before that would make me look incredibly suspicious.”

“Looks like you’ll be stuck here with us for a while, then.”

“It would seem so…” Penelope sighed just as Riley burst through the door.

“A representative from the Institute is here, and he looks like he’s about to explode,” Riley exclaimed nervously, gesturing for them to follow. “He’s demanding an explanation, and I have no idea what to say. Please help.”

The two immediately scrambled to their feet and followed Riley. It wasn’t long before the sound of angry shouting echoed down the hall.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE GIRL’S BODY IS MISSING? IT’S NOT LIKE A CORPSE CAN JUST GET UP AND WALK OUT OF HERE!” The man yelled furiously just as they entered the room.

“I’m sure Doctor Witherbark here would be happy to explain what happened,” Lore’leia interjected smoothly, turning to William with an annoyed glare.

“Ah, uh, yes…” William stammered, clearly flustered. “We were preparing her body for your arrival—making sure none of her blisters had burst and wrapping her to slow decomposition—”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“And the body just disappeared!? What gross incompetence!” the man bellowed, cutting him off.

“We arrived the next morning to find the body gone,” Penelope added quickly, trying to take some of the heat off William. “The clinic was locked, and there were no signs of forced entry.”

“We believe her mother is somehow responsible,” Lore’leia chimed in confidently. “After all, she did barge in here and attack us. One of the guards even lost his life.”

“You’re telling me a peasant overpowered your town guards?” the man sneered, his face reddening even further. With his rounded cheeks, he looked more like an enraged tomato than a man.

“She wasn’t just a peasant,” Lore’leia replied, her tone dramatic. “She exhibited strange magical abilities—practically melted a hole straight through one of the guards’ chests. Honestly, it’s a miracle any of us survived.”

The man faltered at her words, shock spreading across his features. He began pacing in circles before stopping abruptly. “And you still have his body?”

“Yes, though it is not a pretty sight,” Lore’leia responded before anyone else could. “I’ve never seen anything like it. A single touch from her hand greatly heated up metal and seared flesh as if it were bacon.”

“This is… deeply troubling,” the man muttered, his anger giving way to unease. “And you think she used these abilities to retrieve her daughter’s body?”

“Given what she’s capable of, it wouldn’t surprise me,” Lore’leia replied. “As for her intentions… I can’t even begin to guess. That’s what scares me.”

“Does she know the nature of the disease her daughter suffered from?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” Lore’leia said thoughtfully. “From the way she rambled during her attack, I’m not even certain she’s in her right mind anymore.” She hesitated, then added with a convincing air, “Possession is a possibility that should definitely be considered.”

The man’s expression darkened. “I’ll report this to the Institute and request additional personnel—someone equipped to handle both the potential national threat of this pathogen and the danger posed by… Ms. Rivers, you said?”

“That’s correct. Ms. Erica Rivers,” Lore’leia confirmed, shooting a warning glance at the other doctors, silently instructing them not to interfere.

“If she truly is possessed or a powerful caster, she’s a grave danger—not just to Willowcreek, but possibly to the entire region,” the man said, his voice growing quieter. “And if she has access to Night Pox… the implications are terrifying.”

“I can say without a doubt that she poses a threat, at the very least, to the people here,” Lore’leia said. “Given how bitter she was, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s targeting those she holds responsible for her daughter’s death. All four of us are likely in danger, and so are you, considering she probably sees the Institute as having betrayed her. Frankly, I suspect she’s still in or near Willowcreek—there are too many loose ends for her to leave just yet.”

“This is all… highly concerning,” the man said, his face draining of color. He swiftly pulled a piece of paper from a bag on his hip and scribbled on it. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the paper into the air. It folded itself into an elegant bird and shot out the window with astonishing speed. “The Institute will send someone to collect a sample of the guard’s remains. May he rest in peace. I’ll also reach out to the Order of the First Dawn and the Arcanium Index for assistance in this investigation. Their expertise will be invaluable in locating Ms. Rivers and ending this madness.”

“Hopefully, finding her will lead us to the girl’s missing corpse as well,” Lore’leia added, crossing her arms.

“Prepare the samples by this evening. I’ll take my leave now.” He spoke hurriedly, his anxiety evident as he practically fled the room, eager to escape the cursed village.

“This evening? Wouldn’t it take longer for them to arrive?” Penelope asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Those who work directly with the crown have access to more efficient means of transportation. They’ll be here by morning at the latest, though I expect them to arrive sooner,” the man replied.

“Wonderful. I’ll make sure someone is here to greet them, no matter what time they arrive,” Lore’leia said with a sigh of relief, though Penelope recognized it as nothing more than a facade. Lore’leia was, after all, an excellent liar—unlike the rest of the doctors working at the clinic.

“Yes, yes, very good… I am not equipped to handle this, so I’ll leave it in the capable hands of my associates and wish you all the best,” the man said hastily, nervously waddling toward the exit.

“Safe travels,” Lore’leia called after him, her tone calm and composed. The rest of the doctors stood in uneasy silence, unsure whether she had just saved their careers or doomed them all. For several moments after the man’s departure, Lore’leia remained motionless, her gentle smile masking whatever thoughts churned beneath the surface. That was, until Riley spoke.

“You just lied to a representative of the crown…” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Incorrect,” Lore’leia shot back sharply. “I simply withheld certain truths. And you should be grateful—this might be the only thing keeping us off the chopping block.”

“No, you’ve just made everything so much worse,” William muttered, his shock and frustration evident.

“It’s not like it could get worse than it already is,” Lore’leia said dismissively, her tone condescending.

“Are you serious? Do you honestly think they won’t see through this? The churches know what to look for in cases of possession,” William countered desperately. “Do you have any idea what happens if we’re caught lying to the crown about something this serious? Forget exile—that might end up being the best-case scenario.”

“We’re the only real witnesses to any of this,” Lore’leia snapped. “As long as you all keep your mouths shut, everything will be fine.”

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t seriously—” William began, but Lore’leia cut him off, her voice sharp and commanding.

“Listen to me. We’re running out of time, and I need all of you to do as I say. Go prepare the guard’s body for the Institute’s arrival while I craft a believable story. All you have to do is stick to it. Got it? I am not getting sent back to Eryndoril just because some lunatic decided to steal her kid’s corpse.” She punctuated her words with a pointed jab at William.

“I hear Silfa Serine is nice this time of year,” Riley muttered under his breath, earning an irritated glare from Lore’leia.

“I am done living in trees, you hear me?” she hissed, her voice taking on the venomous tone of an angry snake. “I’m not going back to that fey-infested hellhole, I don’t care if it’s my birthplace. Do you even know what it’s like there?”

“I’ve heard it’s beautiful…” Penelope ventured cautiously, trying to defuse the tension. But her attempt only seemed to provoke Lore’leia further.

“Beautiful? BEAUTIFUL?! You don’t know what you speak of,” Lore’leia snapped, anger twisting her normally calm features. “We don’t have mundane filth like the rats and pigeons that plague your cities. No. Instead we have fae dragons the size of cats. And just like cats, they would gladly hunt you for fun.”

“When I was a maiden child, my grandfather gifted me a wolpertinger to bond with. For you humans, that is a winged rabbit with small horns. His coat was so white it glowed in the light of the moon and his horns were majestic, a sign of his champion heritage. I named him Puca and he was my best friend.”

“One day, we were in the forest when a cloud of fae dragons attacked us. We must have strayed into their territory by mistake. Puca fought fiercely to protect me as I fled. I watched them bite him over and over, their wicked claws like needles and their screeches like cruel laughter.”

“By the time I found a guard and returned, Puca was gone. I searched for two days and found nothing. But every night when I returned home, something in my room stunk so bad I couldn’t sleep. On the third day, I opened a closet drawer and found what was left of Puca. The fucking fae dragons had left him there for me.

“Every time I think of my Puca, all I can remember is that awful smell. So tell me how beautiful my homeland is again, you stupid humans. Please. I know exactly how much elder blood and serpent nectar it takes to seal a bargain with a fae dragon matriarch. Death will be a gift when I’m done with you.”