Cassius handed his horse to a stable hand, watching as the young boy led it into the inn's stable, where three other horses grazed idly. Nearby, the inn buzzed with people celebrating and enjoying dinner. Cassius had overheard that the good crop yield this season was a significant cause for celebration in small towns like Redglen. However, that wasn’t why he had chosen to stop. Lastmoor was now just a few days' ride away without any stops. If he was lucky, Cassius might glean some insight into Zenior, who had traversed the Redglen route to Lastmoor. Why hadn’t he attempted to heal anyone here? It wasn’t as if there were no sick individuals. Instead, he had chosen to slip through the town quietly. But why?

  Cassius wandered the streets with his cloak's hood pulled back, aiming to appear friendly and approachable. His hands rested in his tunic pockets, idly toying with the poisoned darts he carried for the blowtube strapped to his waist beneath the cloak.

  The faces of the townsfolk showed no hint of concern or dread. Laughter filled the air, accompanied by the soft melodies of flutes and the rhythmic beat of drums. Cassius listened closely, catching fragments of conversations as he passed. He paused at a tavern with a noticeably smaller crowd than the others in town, where a few faces looked unusually glum.

  "Welcome, sire," a woman called out as Cassius entered the tavern. Five pairs of eyes turned his way, scrutinizing him from head to toe before returning to their own concerns over mugs of ale. "What can I get ya?" she asked.

  The woman, likely in her mid-forties, had her hair tied back with a bandana and silver hoops dangling from her ears. Her dimpled smile was warm and welcoming, while her sharp brown eyes remained keenly observant. Seeing no treat in her, Cassius made his way to a corner table. Once seated, he ordered a mug of ale and whatever dinner was avaible. As the woman departed, Cassius focused on the conversation unfolding at the table behind him.

  “I say, them's vampires. Eh?” one of the men whispered, his speech slightly slurred from the ale.

  “Nah, man,” the other responded with a tongue click, “I reckon they're wolves.”

  “Wolves leave bodies behind,” the first fel argued. “Them vampires bury 'em.”

  “Says who?” A retort came. “Vampires don’t bother with buryin' their victims, nah. They leave 'em 'round, makin' it look like they died of some sickness or two.”

  “Then?”

  “Nothin'. Finish the ale, and let’s git goin'.” The second man put a stop to the talk.

  The townsfolk knew nothing, Cassius concluded. Whatever had happened in Lastmoor, they relied on their imaginations to piece it together. As the men shifted the topic of conversation, Cassius turned his attention to the meal the woman set before him: a steaming broth of chicken and vegetables with bread and cheese on the side. She also brought him a mug of ale.

  Instead of leaving, the woman sat opposite Cassius, studying him intently. She pced her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her entwined fingers.

  "You're not from around here," she stated matter-of-factly. "What brings you to Redglen?"

  "Why do you ask?" Cassius replied calmly, taking a spoonful of broth. He admitted to himself that it was delicious, or perhaps it just felt that way after days of rough travel.

  "Well," the woman began, "there have been many attention-seekers and restless folks stopping by Redglen on their way to Lastmoor, all curious about what happened there. But judging by what I've seen of them—and now you—I’d say you have got real potential. My bets are on you.”

  Cassius paused, raising a curious eyebrow at the woman. She was more perceptive than he had given her credit for.

  "No need to raise your shields against me," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm here to ask a favor I've asked of many, but none bothered to listen. Something tells me you're the kind of man who thinks things through."

  "And what makes you think so?"

  The woman simply raised an eyebrow at Cassius, her expression questioning his question. It was clear she thought he should have known better than to ask. Cassius threw up his hands, leaning back in the creaky old wooden chair, focusing entirely on her now. She offered him a small smile, her shoulders easing slightly.

  "The doctor who killed people and disappeared with their bodies passed through here," the woman said. "Aliss, who worked here, wanted him to check on her ailing father. He had been bedridden for months, his strength drained by a relentless cough. He was coughing up blood, and everyone said he was at death's door. But Aliss refused to accept that."

  Cassius listened quietly, his eyes searching for any signs of deception. All he found was genuine concern and a hopelessness she tried hard to conceal. Perhaps she didn’t want to appear weak, or maybe it was a skill she had honed in her line of work. Regardless, he couldn't believe someone actually knew something about Zenior. It was just as he’d suspected.

  "The doctor gave the older man a few drops and told Aliss to feed him everything, even by force if necessary. The poor girl did as instructed, but before she knew it, he choked on his food and stopped breathing." The woman paused, blinking back tears. "By then, the doctor was preparing to leave. She confronted him, and he cimed it wasn’t his fault. She had come to him too te."

  The woman poured herself some ale and chugged it in a single gulp before continuing.

  "Devastated, Aliss returned to her father’s bedside only to find it empty. The body had vanished. She searched everywhere but found no leads, nothing. It was as if he had disappeared altogether. I told her to give it some time; maybe it would turn up somewhere, but she didn’t listen. The next thing I knew, she had disappeared as well. I haven’t heard anything from her for a while now."

  Cassius knew the woman was right to bring this information to him. If anything, it was a valuable lead.

  "Many have passed through the town, eager to hunt the doctor, and none of them have listened to me." the woman said, her voice now barely above a whisper. "I’ve begged them to find Aliss and tell her that her father wouldn’t have wanted her to put herself in danger."

  Cassius looked up at the woman. Was she about to offer him a job? To find Aliss and tell her to come back home?

  Oblivious to Cassius' shifting expressions, she went on.

  "But Aliss’ absence suggests that…” She paused, taking a quivering breath before uttering the final words. “Either she’s gone or still hunting for the doctor."

  Cassius didn’t linger. Clearly, the woman was done speaking, and all that remained was her plea for him to find Aliss. He didn’t know what kind of retionship the women shared, nor was he interested. Before leaving, he paid her for the dinner and tipped her for the information. He pnned to visit the older man’s house first and then ride at full speed to Lastmoor.

  Clearly, the Axis of Seraphim was unaware of the full extent of Zenior’s crimes. Whatever had begun elsewhere, it had reached Lastmoor under his influence. Cassius was willing to wager that he would uncover simir cases if he investigated the neighboring vilges and towns. However, he couldn’t afford to spend time on that now, not after what he had discovered.

  Aliss’ house stood at the end of a rough, secluded street. It was well past midnight, and the surroundings were eerily quiet. Cassius stopped before a single-story house with weathered walls of rough-hewn timber and a sagging thatched roof, a common sight in the area.

  The front door swung open with a loud creak at the slightest touch. Stepping inside, Cassius found the main room chilly, its earthen floor uneven and strewn with bits of straw. A rickety table was pced in the center, its surface cluttered with half-eaten meals, fnked by two mismatched stools. The only hint of color in the otherwise drab interior came from dried herbs hanging from the rafters near the hearth.

  Cassius walked to the narrow door on the right leading to the small house's only bedroom. Inside, a simple pallet stuffed with straw was a bed on a cot. A discarded bnket y nearby, and next to the bed sat a small wooden chest with its lid slightly open. Cassius approached and gently pushed the lid further with his finger. Inside, the old and discarded clothes covered the tools for sharpening arrows. The wood shavings indicated hurried work—someone had hastily carved a batch of arrows before leaving.

  It seemed Aliss had left to pursue Zenior, and Cassius hoped she hadn’t unwittingly walked into a trap.

  ***

  Cassius raced out of Redglen, his horse galloping along the dirt path winding through farms and clusters of trees. The night appeared tranquil at first gnce, but Cassius felt anything but peace. A gnawing unease twisted in his chest, whether from concern for the girl who had set out to avenge her father or a haunting sense that something was deeply wrong with the situation. No matter how deeply Cassius breathed, he couldn’t dispel the lingering scent that had permeated the small house, particurly where the older man had taken his final breath.

  It was the unmistakable odor of blood and death—evidence that something significant had occurred there, leaving no trace behind, not even a clue to follow.

  But Cassius was determined to succeed, relishing the challenge ahead. The corners of his lips curved into a smile as he urged his horse to gallop even faster.

  Stay tuned for the next chapter on 2/14/25