The room he was given was more luxurious than he had expected. Healers were usually treated well, but he was fairly sure that this time it was a result of Thelo trying to make his absurd proposition feel more enticing.

He had finally been able to take a bath, washing all the grit and salt off of himself. He swept his fingers through his still damp hair, stepped out of his room, and glanced at the maid who had been assigned to him, patiently waiting beside the door.

“Is there a library in the castle?” he asked.

She nodded and bowed stiffly.

“Yes, sir healer.”

“Can you take me to it?”

“Of course, sir healer.”

She turned and began to head down the hall. Dominic glanced out the windows lining it as they walked, watching the estate. It was built in a strange style, opting for thick wood over stone and painted beautifully. Intricate geometric patterns decorated the windows and roofs, but he couldn't appreciate any of the craftsmanship because of the ominous mana that seemed to smother all the warmth in this place.

Every shrub, every lamp, every stone on the path—the entire estate was covered in a thin but dense layer of mana that felt like ice water. Noble mansions were never easy places to navigate, but this one felt like the surface of a melting glacier. Freezing cold, yet slick and slippery. Clouds roll over the peaks like sandstorms. The crevasses have their mouths open. It was unwelcoming in a way that felt exclusive. This is not yours. It’s mine, it’s mine, it’s mine. Don’t touch.

They stopped at a set of big, black doors emblazoned with intricate gold designs, and Dominic had already known from some distance away that this was his destination. The smell it gave off permeated through the halls. Paper and ink. Binding glue and old wood and the lingering scent of tea. This was undeniably the library.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding to the maid. “You may leave now.”

The maid bowed to him, hands clasped together, then turned and headed away. He put his palm on the door and pushed.

The scent of books flooded his senses. The library was huge, shelves lining every wall and every corner. If he needed to find out anything about where he was and what was going on, then the answers would be here.

Dominic wandered through the aisles, glancing through the spines of the books on display. Soon, though, his eyes narrowed in confusion. He picked a random one up and flipped through it. The ridge between his brows only deepened.

He couldn’t read it at all. He had half expected it, knowing that everybody spoke a different language, but the script was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The words had been split into characters, each complex yet unique. They were organized in an orderly grid across each page, and he wasn’t even sure which way to start reading.

Dominic shut the book and placed it back on the shelf with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes, trying to think. Dealing with the lord on absolutely zero information was dangerous. He looked up and glanced around, and something on the far wall caught his eye.

He could see, between the shelves, the edge of a huge map. This was what he had needed from the beginning. He walked toward it, but as more and more of it appeared in his view, his footsteps slowed in confusion.

In the center of the map, in a gap where only open ocean was supposed to be, was a continent that shouldn’t have existed. Cities, territories, trade routes and paths were all drawn in immense detail on its surface, and yet Dominic couldn’t make sense of any of it. The landmass which arched around it on both sides—Vaine: the continent he had set sail from—was almost blank in comparison. There were only simple, sweeping sketches of deserts and mountains and forests, with no labeled names. The only continent he had ever known to exist was the mysterious one here.

Dominic had assumed he’d drifted to some foreign country after the ship sank. He’d guessed wrong.

He was no longer even in Vaine.

He could hear his heart beating in his ears. This was impossible. No—but it had already happened. And yet it wasn't something he could come to believe so easily. Ships passed through this part of the ocean all the time. None had ever discovered a new land mass, let alone one as large as an entire continent. He had never heard of a place called Hesia before this day.

He took a step back, inhaling deeply. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to focus again. No matter how outlandish it was, the circumstances he was in remained the same. He couldn’t read. He had never met demons before in his life. He had been placed as a healer for the lord, but the situation around the lord was immensely convoluted. The mansion was cold like ice.

Slowly, Dominic felt his nerves starting to settle. He walked over to a window, unlatching the lock and pushing it open. The scents of the outside came floating in. He closed his eyes and let them fill his senses.

Over every building and every street, there was a thin veil of mana that blew in on the wind. The scent was like ash, but with something else mixed into it. Seawater. Salt and brine. A stinging, grainy, harsh white. It was the fog that blanketed the horizon, the fog that he’d stumbled out of, the fog that Thelo had said would kill him if he ever went back. Instead of smelling like vapor, it smelled like cracked earth.

Dominic opened his eyes. He glanced over the grounds outside. Everything was just a little bit wrong. He had no choice, though, but to live with it. As long as he had food to eat, clothes on his back, and a place to sleep, he could make it work. He had always managed to survive, somehow.

The breeze continued to float the scent of salt and ash, covering even the chill of the mansion, through the window. It wasn’t a bad scent.

He sighed quietly to himself. It wasn’t going to be easy. Not that it ever had been.

He closed the window, latched it shut, and turned away from the city.

∞

After dinner, Dominic was escorted by a maid to the chambers of the lord for his treatment.

Viscount Helwin was sitting in bed comfortably, accompanied by one attendant at his side. Two huge, antelope-like horns shot straight out of his head, spiraling at the tips, and his skin was a deep grey in color. His appearance was striking but peaceful—the picture of a gentle, aging monarch. But his smile and his eyes were calculative, and more than anything, his mana was overwhelmingly foul.

The signature he carried was murky and odorous, like the depths of a fermenting bog. The vague tang of poison that hung around Thelo was nothing in comparison. Dominic nearly recoiled the moment he’d entered the room, and had to resist the urge to put his hand over his nose.

“Welcome, Dominic,” Viscount Helwin greeted, his voice raspy. “You must be tired. I’m sorry for imposing on you so late at night.”

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He smiled softly. Dominic forced the corners of his lips upward.

“It’s alright,” he answered.

The lord still had that gentle look on his face.

“Come here,” he said, gesturing to a chair by his side, next to his attendant. “Sit.”

Dominic heeded his words and took a seat. The attendant, a surprisingly large man, carefully scrutinized his every move.

“Child,” the lord called. “You're quite young. Are you sure you’ll be able to heal my condition?”

He hesitated for a moment, but eventually parted his lips.

“May I inspect you first?” he asked.

The viscount nodded.

“Sure.”

Dominic reached out and gingerly took his wrist as if to check his pulse. It was repulsive to touch him, his murky mana physically swirling on Dominic’s skin, but he held back any reaction.

He closed his eyes and inspected the lord’s condition.

It wasn’t good. His body had been in poor order to begin with, seemingly taxidermied into place by previous healers. On top of that, there had been some sort of recent shock to his digestive tract, the organs feeling almost burnt. It smelled suspiciously like Thelo’s work.

“What do you think, Dominic?” the lord asked.

He retracted his hands, resisting shaking them off as if they were dirty.

“I can heal you,” he replied calmly. “However, I can’t do it all in one sitting. The treatment will have to be repeated again in two or three days, and maybe again after that.”

The lord nodded and smiled.

“Alright, child,” he said. “I will believe you. Show me.”

Dominic paused for a moment, then took his bony hand. He put some pressure into his fingers and gathered his mana.

“Wow,” the lord commented, “the pain is going away.”

He was layering a numbing spell on thick. It wasn’t one any medical expert would approve of, but he’d formulated a makeshift magic anesthetic while doing mercenary work. Healing his organs would make him scream in anguish otherwise.

Having to dive into the lord’s swamp-like mana was disgusting, but he forced himself to do it. The cracks and tears inside his body slowly closed, the circulation returning to regular pace. His pallor became a little more lifelike, though it was hard to tell when his skin was deep grey to begin with.

Dominic let go of his hand. The lord looked down at his body and motioned towards his attendant.

“Come check me,” he ordered.

The man moved closer, taking his hand. Dominic watched as he closed his eyes to scan the lord’s condition.

“It has improved greatly,” he reported. “It’s as he claimed: a couple more treatments should bring you back to full health, my lord.”

“Amazing,” the lord said. “You’ve done a wonderful job, Dominic.”

He looked pleased with himself. He took his hand again, a gentle smile forming on his face.

“Thank you so very much.”

The stench of his mana was overpowering. Dominic squeezed the lord’s bony hand in return, a soft smile gracing his face.

“It is my pleasure,” he replied, holding in the urge to retch. “May peace be with you.”

∞

The click of the door behind Dominic signified that he was finally alone, back in his room, and he let himself relax. He opened a window and took a deep breath to clear himself of the residual mana that had been clinging to him. Plenty of nobles had murky auras, but this was the first he had met with one so thick. Even as a dying man, the lord was suffocating.

Dominic collapsed into an armchair by the table and sighed. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t even rest. There was a lot to do, but more than anything, there was a lot he couldn’t yet do. He knew next to nothing about the world he’d just been thrust into. It was making navigating it rigid and difficult.

Dominic stared out the window. The lights of the city were still flickering outside. The scents from the streets floated in on the breeze. Drunken laughter. Midnight snacks. A world that was laughing and dancing, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside his head. He sighed and pushed himself up from the chair.

He put on his cloak, stepped one foot onto the windowsill, then jumped out.

The cold air felt good as it brushed through his hair. He dropped a few stories before landing softly on the grass of the garden. The gardeners had already returned for the day. No one was left around but the guards.

Dominic made his way quietly to the gate. There were two sentries stationed outside and two inside, each alert and attentive. He released thin threads of his mana as he approached, letting it fuse with the air, letting them breathe it in.

Gradually, he felt their bodies go slightly slack, heart rates slowing, eyes rolling up. A mild sleep spell. They’d wake up in a few moments, not even realizing they had lost consciousness.

Dominic quickly moved past them and leapt over the gate.

He wove through the streets of the city, mingling quietly with the crowds, taking in the scents and sounds. He raised his head and took a deep breath. Individual scents, the mana signatures of the people all around, came flooding back to him. Lilacs and lavenders. Dusty linen and ink. Mahogany wood and the sound of a song. Everywhere there were people he’d never meet that would never know him either. It was comfortable, in a way, to be just another faceless part of that throng. Forget me by morning. I, too, will forget you.

Dominic glanced upwards. A murder of crows lined the roof of a building ahead, watching the passersby, searching for scraps. His eyes narrowed. One was a little strange.

It smelled familiar.

Their eyes met, the bird’s beady black ones reflecting the light of the streets. It froze for a moment, then turned and shot off into the sky.

Its silhouette melted into the black of night. Dominic considered what to do for a second, then followed it.

He filtered through the scents that were flooding to him, parsing through them one by one. The one he was looking for had a unique signature. The fact that it had had a signature to begin with had been strange for a bird. Animals had mana, but not enough to command magic. Yet, for some reason, that crow could.

He found it, up ahead. A mana signature that flowed like molten metal—sleek and dense, yet thin and unassuming at the same time. Like water on a blade. Like the surface of a thermal spring. It was retreating across the city and away from him. He sped up.

He wove through the backstreets, avoiding the crowds, the lone drunks, the couples sneaking out behind bars. The lights and sounds grew distant, the silent blue of night overtaking the streets. There were still a few windows of orange and yellow glowing among the buildings, but practically no one was outside in the residential district. And then slowly the houses and shops also faded away, leaving only fallen ruins around him, a stink in the streets. The presence he had followed here had landed somewhere in the labyrinth of alleys and staircases, and he needed to find his way to it.

Dominic raised his head and took a deep breath. The chill of the night and itchy blankets. Echoing coughs and huddled embraces. Individual scents came like wisps on the wind. The one he was looking for wasn’t hard to find this time. It burned brighter than the others around it.

He followed the trail through the ruins. He was sure there were residents spying on him again through their windows, but none made their presence known. He had noticed when he’d first arrived too, but it was a strange kind of slum. Instead of being a shantytown made of recycled materials, it looked like the abandoned remains of a much larger city. There had been buildings here once, but not anymore. Only ruins were left.

Dominic stopped, glancing down the street, and then upward. On the edge of a stone pillar perched a crow, feathers glowing with a pinkish sheen in the light of the red moon. It was staring down at him with its beady, black eyes. Dominic stared back.

“Are you going to run away again?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled on the street.

The crow seemed to flinch. It didn’t respond, but it didn’t fly off either.

Dominic stepped closer.

“Would you happen to know a kid named Aster?” he asked.

The bird very obviously froze at the sound of that name.

“I could be mistaken, but for some reason, you two smell the same.”

A tense silence stretched between them. The crow hesitated for a moment longer before finally leaping down from its perch.

It glided over. Then—just a short distance away—the mana around it suddenly frayed, turning mist-like. Its form flickered, and in an instant, instead of a crow, a familiar boy with grey hair landed lightly in front of him, his black eyes turning up towards him.

“I thought you were a human, not a dog,” Aster remarked. “Why did you come looking for me?”

Dominic studied him for a moment. He had never heard of anything like transformation magic before, but at this point he had already gotten used to be surprised.

“I never paid you back for helping me,” he said.

He pulled a silver coin out of his sleeve, part of the reward for his first treatment of the viscount. Aster’s eyes sparkled as he spotted it.

“I’ve got some questions for you, so have you eaten yet?”