"I'm telling you!" the woman shouted desperately behind Cassius as he rode his horse towards the trees. “There’s nothing there but empty graves!”

  The stench of magic grew thicker, almost chokingly palpable in the air. He couldn't fathom how the woman or anyone else hadn't noticed it before. Why was it that only he could sense it—back at Aliss' home and now here?

  Cassius pulled the reins of his horse just before reaching the treeline, where the earth had been excavated on a rge scale, revealing empty graves. Tying his horse to one of the trees, he navigated through the byrinth of holes. The woman’s rushing steps echoed a while ter, having sprinted to catch up with him.

  "Why did Zenior bury the dead here?" Cassius wondered aloud. Behind him, the woman ughed, a humorless, self-deprecating sound. Cassius found himself curious about her identity and her reason for being there. Had the Axis of Seraphim hired another bounty hunter? No, he was overthinking it. The stench of dark magic was clouding his senses.

  "So, you do talk," she remarked, then quickly cleared her throat to answer. "He seemed remorseful. He said that since he’d failed to cure the people, he should do something to compensate for it. He helped them bury their dead. The people’s grief didn’t let them suspect his true intentions."

  He’d pyed with their minds, Cassius thought as he stopped at the st grave, counting over seventeen in total. Were there more? Cassius wondered. It was up to him to track the doctor down, and his senses told him that these mass graves held more secrets than met the eye.

  Crouching down, Cassius let his hand hover over the mud from the dugout graves. It was cold to the touch and moist. Bringing it close to his nose, he inhaled deeply and felt the foul taste of magic at the back of his throat.

  "You can't be serious," the woman commented from a distance, her arms folded over her chest, her stance suggesting ease.

  "I sense bck magic all around the area," Cassius told her. Her posture stiffened. Her expressions of fear and concern appeared, but deep down, he sensed arm coursing through. Cassius narrowed his eyes, certain she knew more than she was letting on. He approached her, hoping to intimidate her into revealing more without resorting to force. She was clearly a victim, seeking revenge against Zenior rather than joining him. She wouldn't speak of him and his deeds with such disdain if she pnned to join him.

  "Come on, Aliss," Cassius said, his voice soft but unmistakably threatening. "Tell me what you know."

  Her mouth dropped open, eyes widening. She began to step backward, keeping her gaze locked on Cassius.

  "Your father’s body disappeared, and you immediately pursued the doctor. How did you miss him? How have you found nothing after days of chasing him?"

  "You know nothing!" Aliss seethed.

  "Clearly, I know more than you," Cassius said, still advancing. "But if you tell me everything you've gathered, maybe we can find a solid answer to what happened here."

  Aliss was silent momentarily, gncing at the graves and then the treeline. Behind her, the path led back to Lastmoor. Cassius saw the resignation in her eyes before her shoulders sagged, and she let out a shaky breath.

  "Zenior is dabbling in magic," Aliss muttered. "When I went back to him after my father’s death, he was packing to leave. There was blood everywhere in the room he’d rented. If I hadn’t been reeling from my loss, I would’ve confronted him right then and there. I would’ve asked him about the hanging human entrails from the roof as if they were some offering."

  Cassius remained silent, his thoughts racing.

  "He pushed me out," Aliss continued. "He ignored my shouts and bmed me for not caring for my father. Devastated, I returned to find my father's body gone. The images from Zenior's room became clear, and a new kind of fear settled in the pit of my stomach. I ran back, but he was gone. There were no traces of anything I had seen earlier—nothing at all.”

  “No accomplice?” Cassius asked.

  “I went to the inn where he was staying,” Aliss said. “The innkeeper knew nothing and cimed the doctor had left his room immacute. I ran through the streets like a mad woman, asking about Zenior, but no one had seen him. In fact, they didn’t even know who I was talking about.”

  Cassius’ thoughts skidded to a halt as he listened to Aliss. Though she continued to speak, describing the emotional toll of losing her father, he was no longer focused on her words. His mind raced uncontrolbly. He had suspected that Zenior might manipute people’s minds and emotions, and Aliss’ account only confirmed it. Zenior wasn’t an amateur; he was a skilled expert who had either mastered his abilities or had been guided by someone to wield his powers in a way that served his interests.

  Cassius knew wizards were reclusive beings, not out of fear of society's perception, but to avoid being outdone by their peers. The Axis of Seraphim was notorious for hunting down wizards, ensuring that any exposed wizard died with their secrets rather than passing their knowledge on to others. Zenior appeared to have evaded the Axis of Seraphim and kept his powers concealed. It was as if he had been specifically trained to do so, as no inexperienced wizard could evade TAS scrutiny and avoid disaster.

  Cassius turned away from Aliss and began making his way to his horse. Magic—that's what Zenior had used to make people vanish from their graves. When the townspeople, suspecting the doctor, had exhumed their loved ones, they had found nothing. No traces. But the question that still gnawed at Cassius was the extent of the wizard’s powers. What could have compelled him to erase all traces of his failed treatments? It didn’t add up unless he had ulterior motives.

  "Where are you going?" Aliss called after him, but he didn’t answer. Zenior’s ability to steer clear of TAS spoke volumes about his powers, and Cassius suspected the death toll was much higher than anyone knew. Only Zenior held the grim tally.

  Bredensea Woods was dense, its thick canopy filtering the silvery glow of the half-moon, which barely reached the forest floor. With their gnarled branches, the tall, ancient trees wove an intricate curtain overhead.

  Patches of mist drifted zily among the trees, adding to the mysterious atmosphere. Cassius strained to hear any ordinary sound, but the forest was too quiet. He could almost hear the mist amid the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle, cold wind, tinged with the earthy scent of moss and damp earth. Beneath it all, the smell of magic lingered.

  Cassius kept up his slow trudge through the forest, his eyes scanning for any signs that might confirm he was on the right path. When he entered a particurly dense part of the woods, he dismounted from his horse and approached one of the oldest trees. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his palm against the trunk and closed his eyes.

  Cassius sensed not images but a mixture of scents: sweat, magic, and something else—a putrid miasma that clung to the tree’s trunk and the ground.

  "Rotting flesh," Cassius blurted out loud, for Aliss, who still followed him, unbothered by walking and sprinting to catch up whenever he rode faster. "Sulfur."

  "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked. "And why can't I sense anything like that?"

  Cassius mounted his horse once more and continued down the path. Now, he was certain he was on the right track, and it was leading him straight to Kilfall.

  Indeed, it was surprising that Aliss hadn’t detected anything unusual. However, the greater surprise was her ability to recall Zenior and what she had witnessed in his room. Despite everything she had endured, here she was, on the path to finding her father’s murderer and making it this far. What did her presence beside him mean? Cassius was pgued by unanswered questions and a growing sense that this mission would be unlike any other. It felt unpredictable, and an intense sense of foreboding deepened the further he moved along the trail.

  Stay tuned for the next chapter on 03/14/25