Covered wagons emerged from the woods, each pulled by majestic brown steeds guided by Keoma and his students. The group wore crestfallen expressions befitting their grim task for the day. They ascended a ramp to the docks and then stopped by the adventurer's van, where the shop was being closed up after an uneventful day. Yulsif provided them with sustenance while Desdin and Ingrid made small talk.

Demalyn stirred in her room. She noticed some commotion coming from outside. She nabbed her hat and satchel and made her way out. It was much later in the day than she had anticipated. The days were shorter now that winter was coming into its own.

Keoma approached Desdin. “We found twelve human bodies in total. Along with Ensi. Thanks for providing us with details on where to find the cave. I’ve already sent a message to the clergy, who will alert the families. A funeral will occur tomorrow night in our heavenly observatory. I believe you have been there when you entered our territory.”

Desdin confirmed, “I remember it. Have you heard anything about the situation in town? And I need my sword.”

Keoma said, “The lodge is under lock down and isn’t replying so we have had no actual communication. The hunters here will camp outside my forge. I will repair your sword tonight, so you should come by in the morning.” Keoma patted Yulsif on the shoulder before moving on.

Demalyn strolled up to the table and asked, “Where is Cherry?”

“I was starting to worry myself. But I’m assuming the hospital was busy after yesterday. And most likely shorthanded.” Desdin said with little concern.

Ingrid stood up and said, “I was about to return to town. I’m going to check in on Lady Amise and I would gladly escort you both to the hospital afterwards to check on your friend.”

Desdin said, “Dem, do you want to go with her? I will stay here in case she returns and finish closing up shop.”

“Sure, I’m fully rested now and unlike you, I behave when left to my own devices.” Demalyn got up and gestured for Ingrid to lead the way.

The two ladies made their way in silence into Leoris. Ingrid was tapping at her display while Demalyn sat with both arms resting in the car to the archives. Setting her display down for a moment Ingrid asked, “How do the three of you get along traveling in close quarters together?”

Demalyn didn’t look away from the passing scenery of buildings in town while she answered. “Well, Desdin is my favorite person in the world. I’d take his side in most of his arguments with Cherry, but I don’t like her being angry at me. I understand both of them. They both try in their own way to make things better and I’m there for them however I can be. I don’t have any passion for the world like them. They sort out their differences before their fights get bad enough.”

Ingrid was fidgeting with her hands in her seat. “I almost wish I had friends like that. Everyone thought growing up under the archivist’s tutelage was easy, but she was relentless in her lessons. There was no arguing with her. But it installed me a strict set of rules and principles that I believe in and follow.”

“If you’ve gotten to know Desdin at all, then you should know we adapt to the necessities at hand. Myself and Cherry are much the same.” Demalyn said, fluttering her hand in the air.

Ingrid looked embarrassed. “You all sound charismatic and romantic in your pursuit. But I love my home and my duty here. I’m jealous that you can just go wherever you want and learn about whatever you want. That isn’t the reality most of us must deal with daily.”

As they arrived at the archives, Demalyn could smell a foul odor creeping through the air into the empty streets. She put her arm out in front of Ingrid. “Wait.” Demalyn reached into the satchel and gripped the orb. A misshapen lump of shadow flashed inside her mind. “Whatever is coming out from there is already dead. Threads have been twisted to make it move. I need you to go back to the docks and get Desdin. Tell him to come back here armed.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Shaking her head, Ingrid insisted, “I need to check on Lady Amise. She may not be the kindest person in Leoris, but she has raised me up.”

The doors of the archives swung open, causing the stench to flood the streets. Ingrid covered her mouth, gagging, while Demalyn pinched her nose. The lamps lining the stone pathway leading into the archives all flickered. They could hear a slow dragging noise as something large was emerging from the dark. It was Amise with a dislodged jaw, swinging below her many chins. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head and black fluid had spilled out from them. Amise’s already engorged stomach now dragged on the pavement beneath her between her legs, that squatted atop it in an awkward waddle.

Tears filled Ingrid’s eyes from fear, the scent, and the shock. She froze in place, unable to even mouth words. Demalyn looked back at her before clenching her teeth and pulling the orb out of her satchel. She discarded her bag and tossed her hat to the grass. The vines massed around her arm and this time the orb became like the head of a mace emblazoned in purple flame. Demalyn spoke under her breath. “Like we saw from Ouren. Let’s be patient with one another. We just need enough power to deal with this. Our mind as one at the reins. We work together. It is our turn. You called this type of thing a dead one before. We should be able to handle it.”

The muscles in Demalyn’s legs erupted into shape and she leaped into the air on top of a chrism streetlamp. She stood there with a mocking expression down at the horrid creature. Amise’s jaw made an unnatural grinding noise as it seemed to snap into an inhuman place. Her teeth grew and now protrude outward.

She groaned and howled before lunging at Demalyn. The flesh on her hand tore apart from her bones with the ferocity of the swipe aimed at Demalyn. Missing she then made an attempt to capture her into her terrifying mouth. Demalyn fell backward, evading with ease as she also spun away from the lamp and connected with a solid kick to the monster’s side, knocking Amise back down to the ground that broke and cratered beneath her.

Black fluids gushed from its maw, and it struggled to stand back up. It growled at Demalyn, who now stood at the ready. She had one fist close to the earth and stretched her other hand, carrying the vine mace out behind her. Demalyn’s muscles in her arms contracted and expanded. Her hat flew off behind her and her hair danced wildly. The mace emitted purple embers into the night sky.

The monster trampled toward Demalyn, who smiled like a wild feral thing herself. Demalyn strafed to the side before pivoting back towards Amise with such force that the road trembled and broke. She swung with the mace and obliterated the creature’s teeth and jaw. Amise was off balance and before falling to one side, Demalyn gripped her head with her unarmed hand and slammed it to the ground on the other side into a pulpy black mess.

This feral display of violence had happened so quickly that a visibly shaken Ingrid had gotten sick in the bushes where she had retreated. Demalyn tried uselessly to wave the black blood from her fingers before picking up her satchel and hat. She put the orb back into its place and walked towards Ingrid with a concerned glance. Ingrid looked up at her and put a hand up shaking her head with wide eyes pouring tears. “Please stay away!” Ingrid’s display was blinking red.

Sirens had begun wailing in the distance. Several vehicles sped onto the scene from the direction of the hunter's lodge. Spotlights all aimed at the corpse of the archivist while blinding Demalyn. Surrounding her were at least twenty hunters. They all looked at each other nervously by the sight of the scene. Stokely stepped out from the light with a disgusted look on his face as he looked down at what was once Amise. He looked at Demalyn with resentment.

Stokely called out with authority, “Drifter! We were already suspicious of you lot and the tips we received about the horrible crime you committed here proves it. I am placing you under arrest by the acting authority of the lodge for the murder of our archivist and Lady of the council, Amise. Surrender yourself peacefully and we will not kill you where you stand.” Stokely drew out his two-handed sword and readied it. Several other hunters did the same. Others drew rifles with sights trained on Demalyn.

She put her hand to her face and glared at Stokely with a burning intensity between her fingers. “I guess.” She then put her hands up. Stokely approached her with caution and bound her arms in thick leather straps. He then placed manacles over those and guided her to sit down next to him in a vehicle that sped off.

Ingrid had remained out of sight. She trembled and shuddered before stumbling off in the port’s direction. She glanced down at the text on her display. It read, “Whatever happened to Amise they had to be involved. Please send hunters to the archives tonight and we can prove that they are also monsters.”