Deep green blades swayed under the wind.

The night could be described as a dangerous time, a time where the darkest monsters came out. And yes, that is true.

But what it fails to capture, is the tranquility it brings, with its silence, and the calming cold. It is also a time for rest, where people let go of their problems and recover from all the stress of the day.

It is a completely different world from the day.

And some people like the night more than the day. People who enjoy the tranquil, more than the chaotic energy of the day.

Fiona knew it better than anyone else. No one spent as much time awake in the night as she did.

But she did not sleep. Or rather, she was not able to.

It was a curse, from a lesser demon she had killed, when she was still in her prime as an adventurer.

So this was her way of relaxing. A deep trance like state.

When she had gotten the curse, she had laughed at the demons face thinking of it as not a curse, but a gift. The demons only reply to her was a grin, before it passed away.

But now she knew.

She couldn’t be an adventurer, because it was simply too demanding, especially for a person that couldn’t sleep. In fact, she couldn’t live a normal life at all, because even that would be too stressful for her.

Instead, she had to live the rest of her life alone, out here, in the woods.

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

Her friends had visited, but one by one they had fallen, either to a disease or a monster.

But she still lived, all the way out here, alone. Old. Her parents had passed away long ago, and she did not have any siblings. So she knew she would die alone.

She somberly smiled.

At least it wouldn’t be long.

She bent down to pick a flower. It was bright orange, with the tips of the petal yellow.

She put it into a mortar and pestle, and began to grind. The result was an orange paste. She scooped it up and put it into a bowl filled with water. She then mixed it, adding a few pinches of various ground up dried herbs every now and then. The result was a glowing green liquid.

She took it, and gulped it down.

Then some of the vigor returned to her, and she no longer looked as sickly as she did before.

With some effort, she got up and went inside her small cottage, before collapsing onto a chair.

Her eyes had a few tears in them, but she blinked them away.

She turned towards the fireplace.

The flames blazed, and then images began to appear. Each were cryptic and vague, acting only as a piece of the puzzle.

A healer, who held in her hands a beating heart.

An energy elemental, with an unyielding will.

A mage, with runes etched all over his skin, and eyes that was infinite in its depth.

A shadow, which a head a skull, and in the skulls eyes was pain and suffering. Two spots on the shadow’s head was more darker , and held malice, death, and sadistic joy.

She froze.

The last image… hadn’t faded away. She felt dread build up within her.

Slowly, the shadow turned to face her, and… she felt something… wrong. A feeling that was deeply rooted in her mind.

A dark line appeared where the shadow’s mouth would be, and it twisted upwards into a grin.

***

A shrill scream filled the air. Suddenly, Kylos felt dread deep in his stomach.

He pushed it away, and ran towards to source of the noise. He found a small cottage. Wasting no time, he pushed open the doors and froze.

An old woman was lying on the floor, dead. Her face was pale, her eyes milky white. Her face was twisted in an expression of horror.

And then the feeling of dread came back, ten times as stronger.

Kylos started shaking, paralysed in fear. And then, he saw it.

The old woman and Kylos’s screams weren’t the only ones heard that night.

***

End of Chapter 7