The guards in Stag removed the bodies from inside and outside the castle. It hadn’t even been half a day since that night, and Alessia felt like time moved too slowly. People were too afraid to leave their houses in the town, but there were no signs of those creatures. Blood still stained the cobblestone, which would be hard to remove, but guards did everything they could to make it look like before.

How could returning to normal be possible? So many people lost their loved ones… It made Alessia wonder if only Stag or all of Tethys went through that terrible night. And what would Count Fairley do to try and reassure everyone?

Nobody had the slightest inkling of what to do. What were they going to do at night? Would the creatures return? Alessia remembered the words spoken to her in a strange language. If she only remembered what was said, but would it help? The damage had already been done.

She did not know what else to do. Her father was severely injured and being taken care of by healers, all the while dealing with the grief of his nephew’s death. Nothing about it felt right. Nothing at all.

The servants and maids were alive and stayed in the basement quiet until morning. They were astonished to hear of Kalix’s passing. “We are sorry for your loss, Lady Alessia,” one of them said to her, respectfully bowing their head.

Kalix didn’t just die. Those things murdered him. Plain and simple. Alessia would not accept any other reason.

“Thank you,” Alessia said, nodding to the maids before heading up the stairs to her bedroom. She sat silently on the bed, thinking about the entire night and how it unfolded before she could even blink.

Her thoughts went back to Kalix, how he must have been terrified of being separated from his family that night. She wondered what went through his head when those creatures found him and tortured him to death. A chill ran down her spine, recalling the state of her cousin’s body. The lengths they would go to trick someone into coming out of the building were insane. As she recalled, Kalix's body was left barren; his entrails were torn out of his stomach, and a long metal pipe pinned him to the trunk of the tree through his chest.

She meant every word of wanting to kill those monsters that were responsible for Kalix’s murder. They would all pay for it, even if she had to resort to other ideas to eliminate them. She wished she hadn’t been separated from her family that night. Kalix might be alive if she made sure they were all together.

What if Alessia tried resurrecting her cousin like she did to deceased animals? She never tried it on humans before, and his corpse might be too far gone. She couldn’t bear the thought of failing the resurrection. She did not know how far her powers were able to go.

The dead was better left dead, and would he even look normal if he returned to life? Alessia did not want to imagine the gruesome sight.

Creatures came out of the forest, attacking the guards and citizens, and a woman named Fiona led the massacre in the castle. She destroyed Calien’s sword as if it were nothing. This was so evident in her mind that it made remembering specific details difficult.

She removed the mat on the floor beside her bed, seeing the circle again. It didn’t have the same blue glow as before. She needed a protection spell. It would help for the second night and nights ahead. But which one? There were so many, and she couldn’t even remember any.

Many spells required blood. Alessia didn’t like that idea, but what choice did she have? It was for everyone’s protection, including her own.

There was one way to find out.

She was communicating with the dead. She had not done that since she was a child. Her grandfather warned her never to stay too long with the spirits, or she may bring something back with her.

She sat down inside the circle, cross-legged, and closed her eyes. Tuning everything around her out while the candles blazed on, she started sensing someone with her, but not in physical form.

“I need help from necromancers before me. Please – give me wisdom and guidance.”

No answer.

She tried again, her whispers low and quiet to prevent anyone inside the house from listening to what she was doing. “Please help me.” Still, there was no response and the apparition she had felt with her before disappeared. Odd, I did the spell right, Alessia thought, opening her eyes to adjust the candles.

She closed her eyes again, repeating the phrase to gather the dead. She felt a slight trickle of cold sweat running down her neck, the bedroom’s temperature dropping to freezing. “I need –” She stopped in the middle of her speaking, feeling a hand around her neck.

“You will not be seeking help!” the hooded apparition shouted. “I will see you dead first!” She struggled, grasping their hand around her throat. “Why won’t you die?” She tried screaming, but no sound came out of her mouth except for a few gasps. They released her, and she fell to the floor, coughing and gasping. “I would rather see you suffer first.”

The apparition vanished into thin air, leaving her still coughing. The same shadow person who was haunting her relentlessly. She could still feel his hands on her throat, and when she looked into the mirror, she found bruises from a hand that had been around her neck. “What do I do?” Alessia whispered to herself.

The same person from the party who whispered those words wanted her to suffer at their own hands. How could she deal with that? She doubted Calien was able to protect her from that sort of harm. Not this time.

Maybe if she left Tethys...

No. Then, her family would still be in danger. It was not a viable option since nobody could leave the island in the first place. She pushed long black strands out of her face, sweat dripping down her cheek. She wanted to discover who the person was and why they mentioned Sarah the previous night.

Alessia took a deep breath, as her Grandfather had told her to when she was little. She needed fresh air away from the circle and her house. Although the rest of Stag was a mess from the massacre, Alessia hated staying inside. She did that enough inside the castle.

She wasn’t sure where she would go, but she’d figure it out.

There were no magic users in Tethys, or they stayed hidden from society. King Taran, the fifth king of Tethys, passed a law against such magic, including necromancy. However, the law lasted for centuries and was much stricter in the capital. The present monarch, Ultan, supported the law and continued enforcing it.

Finding someone with magic to help her would be a problem.

Her grandfather used to take her to a woman who lived on the outskirts of Stag. He said she passed away after a few years, but her house might still be standing. She could have spells on protection, among other things. She was sure she remembered the way to the woman’s house. They went numerous times to visit her.

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

Calien would have to follow her. She didn’t mind it as much since last night. Being alone while those creatures were outside sent a chill down her spine. He never once questioned her when Alessia told him she needed to go for a walk.

“Glad you didn’t try sneaking off.”

“There won’t be much point,” she said, giving him a half smile. “Were you able to have the blacksmith forge you a new sword?”

“He – Lundys – said it may take a bit before he finished. In the meantime, he gave me a mace.”

“A mace? Sounds much like an upgrade.” She grinned at him. “Hopefully, harder to break.”

“Let us hope it does not come to that.”

Lundys was the only blacksmith in Stag, and his business was booming after the massacre. Civilians wanted their weapons instead of relying on the town guards.

They started on a trail that had not been used for years, as so much of the grass was overgrown. Alessia wondered how the woman could use magic without anyone knowing about it. Grandfather never mentioned once that the woman was some sort of witch, but she had strange books and a shelf of herbs and potions.

“This path feels different,” Calien noted. “Any particular reason we are on it?”

“There is a reason, but you shall see soon. It’s coming up.”

It did not take long before Alessia immediately recognized the house. The structure looked more like a small shed than a house and was in such an odd-looking shape. It took on a hexagonal form, with a straw roof and walls made of oak wood. It was as if the woman had never died.

Someone even tended a garden, and it was in amazing shape. Rows of herbs and flowers of all shapes and sizes decorated the garden. The ones that stood out to Alessia the most were the sunflowers, which she did not remember the last time she was there years ago.

The wind chimes clattered against each other as she explored the rest of the property.

“Is it… supposed to be vacant?” Calien asked her.

“I’m not so sure anymore.”

The door to the hexagon house flew open. A woman in her late forties stood with a sharp butcher’s knife. “Why are you on my property?” the woman demanded.

“Your property? A woman lived here a long time ago, but she passed away.”

The woman slowly put the knife away. “You refer to my grandmother then.” The woman quickly cut her off with a simple raised hand. “The name is Jaera. Speak your business, but don’t waste my time.”

“I… I’ve come to you about the curse that has fallen over Tethys,” Alessia said. “The creatures that come out at night…”

“Yes. I have noticed,” Jaera replied abruptly. She turned to face her and lifted her hood, revealing amber skin and red hair kept neatly over her shoulder that stopped at her waist. Alessia could not tell how old she was… maybe around her parent’s age. Or younger? Her eyes were silver, a color Alessia had never seen on anyone else before. “Come inside then, but your friend stays out.”

She exchanged looks with Calien, who nodded at her to go inside. With her arms across her chest, Alessia followed Jaera into the house. “How are you even alive? They kill anyone brave enough to go outside at night.”

She began lighting candles on the ground surrounding a circle, similar to the one Alessia had under the mat in her bedroom. “My wards keep them from entering my house.” She dims the lights in the house. “Do you know of the deity Tirren?” Alessia scratched her nose, shaking her head. “He is the all-knowing and all-powerful Creator of our Universe. The one who watches you throughout your entire life.”

“I have never heard of Tirren before.”

“That’s because nobody in Tethys recognizes Him as a deity. The Kings of Old believed Tirren was dangerous and, if invoked, could cause chaos. They also believed He promoted Necromancy.”

“What does this have to do with my problem?” She looked outside to Calien, who was stirring outside but keeping a close eye on them both.

“Listen and you will find out.”

“But –”

“Quiet! I am speaking,” Jaera snapped. Alessia recoiled at her sudden, sharp tone. “How long have you practiced Necromancy?”

“Since I was eight.”

“And you never heard of Tirren? I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s the truth! Your Grandmother taught me what she could. She showed me how to draw a Necromancer Circle.”

Jaera shook her head. “A circle? Anyone with a brain could draw one!”

“I have used it!” Alessia argued. She clenched her fists. The woman acted so hostile around her, not showing sympathy. “I used it when crops died in Stag, but it failed.”

“That is not what the circle is for. It’s to open communication with the dead!”

“I was a child!”

“A rather stupid child, if I might add.” Jaera glared at Alessia with rage. “Even I knew not to mess with the nature of things.

“Well, I am not you.”

“Clearly.”

Alessia looked down, staring at her feet in utter shame. Perhaps it was a mistake to even visit in the first place. After silence, she said, “How do I stop them? They aren’t killed by sword or magic. Last night, there was screaming in Stag, and I could do nothing to stop it.”

“A curse binds them. The only way to stop them permanently is to kill the caster,” Jaera said as she finished lighting the fourth candle. “They are called Sluagh, which means ‘host, army or crowd.’ They are not of this world. And neither are you.”

“What do you mean? I was born here.”

“Doesn’t matter. I can sense it. Your soul is not from this world; I can tell you feel the same.”

“No… People look at me differently… but that doesn’t necessarily mean I don’t belong in Sacellum.”

“Because you are different from others.”

Jaera already knew what Alessia had not confirmed. She never belonged in Stag, Tethys, or even the realm.

The shaman sighed, shaking her head. “People judge what they don’t know. However, I can sense in your heart you know you don’t belong here,” she said, raising an eyebrow. Alessia nodded. “Then, you would be right. You don’t.” Alessia stared at her, bewildered, unsure of what that even meant. “You look at me with confusion – yet you know the answer.” Again, Alessia could not muster any words to respond to the Shaman.

She tried to think back to that horrible night and the words said to her as if she were supposed to know the person in the black cloak. “I am not sure I understand. You said I was right about not belonging here? In Sacellum?” Alessia said, crossing her arms. “I meant in general.”

“Yes, but I am meaning it literally.”

She huffed in frustration, annoyed the shaman would not just tell her. “Can you explain?”

“You hear voices. Voices of a past life you once had.” Alessia stayed quiet as she started explaining. “You were born in another world with a different name and family. A world without magic, so to speak? The word I am looking for is reincarnation.”

Alessia remained still, staring at the Shaman with even more confusion. She knew what reincarnation was, but hearing about it from someone else almost mortified her. “How do you even know all this about me?”

“Because my grandmother was there when you were born.” The shaman let out a sigh. “The healers called her in because you were not breathing, and much to her horror, you were considered dead. So, she called upon the magic of transference. She used the life force of an animal to put inside you, but you needed a soul. That soul is your old life.”

She tilted her head to the side. “And how do you know this?” she asked, at the risk of sounding rude.

Jaera stared at her for a long moment, her icy eyes burning a hole inside Alessia. “She told me when teaching me how to use transference.”

Her parents, not even her grandparents, ever mentioned on the day of her birth that she wasn’t breathing. “But even if what you say is true… I remember nothing of this life I once had!”

“In reincarnation, some regain their memories, some never do.”

“Who was I, then? Do you know?”

“I don’t,” the shaman replied. “My powers can do so much. Only you can determine that.”

“How if I can’t even remember? I am constantly harassed by someone who wants me dead.”

Jaera raised one eyebrow curiously, stepping closer to Alessia. “Tell me more about this person. Do you know their name?”

“No. I remember they said a few words in another language... It was along the lines of ‘Maledictio modest,’ and the other was ‘Sarah manet.’”

“Then, it is as I thought. It is a curse,” Jaera said. “The statement translates to ‘The Curse is here’. The second is ‘Sarah abides.’”

“Sarah… could that be my old name?” She heard it at least twice, once at the graveyard and then the second at the Masquerade. She heard the name only twice, yet it felt familiar to her.

Jaera’s back faced her, head slightly turned to her, and she sighed. “Salt is what will help against the Sluagh.” Jaera avoided Alessia’s question, which she found odd. Alessia didn’t push any further on the issue.

Just salt? Alessia thought. I thought that was done for demons. And it will work?”

“Place the salt in front of your home's door. If they cross the salt, they will burn. You have access to salt, do you not? Salt from anywhere will do. Now, hurry. I am sure you need to let people in Stag know.”

Alessia nodded. She wasn’t so sure the townsfolk of Stag would listen to her of all people, but she had to try. “Thank you for your help.” She was about to head out the door when Jaera’s voice called her back.

“I have one more piece of advice for you,” Jaera said. The words seemed to freeze Alessia in place as she watched the woman continue. “It’s something my grandmother - Brónach - once told me. When dealing with the dead, do not open a door you cannot close.”