Theories, that’s all Cassius had. And they were never enough. He’d learned the hard way that doubt was a bounty hunter’s worst enemy. It gnawed at their moral codes, crumbled their resolve, and affected the survival instincts critical in this line of work.

  Cassius walked out of the caves, his mind still churning with the echoes of all he’d seen and heard. The monk followed cautiously, as though sensing Cassius needed room to think while recovering his depleted strength. But space wasn’t what Cassius needed; answers were. And he couldn’t ask anyone for trust wasn’t going to be easy, not if the monk was telling the truth about his employers.

  Cassius knew Aliss wasn’t in the barn with Aderd long before he reached it. He stopped abruptly, a scoff escaping his throat.

  “Your girlfriend ran off with the monster?” the monk remarked, his voice ft and emotionless.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Cassius replied, his tone icy. He’d always detested the people who reached certain conclusions without a second thought. “And why are you still following me?”

  The monk didn’t respond. Cassius strode toward the barn without waiting for an answer. He was intent on finding any traces Aliss might have left behind, but he was running out of time. With Zenior on the loose, Aderd was now his only lead to the doctor.

  Inside, the dusty barn floor revealed no signs of a struggle, only the faint outline of a body where Cassius had st seen Aderd. He crouched beside it, his eyes scanning the area for clues. There was no indication of Aliss’s movements—no footprints leading to the windows or the door. The only tracks were concentrated around Aderd’s outline, leaving Cassius wondering what had happened here.

  “She’s gone,” the monk said, stating the obvious. Cassius could tell from his tone that he’d gained significant strength.

  Cassius gnced at him over his shoulder. “Yes, she is,” he replied, standing upright. He walked to the window, gazing at the vanishing light as the sun sank behind the mountains, covering the ndscape with deepening shadows. Behind him, the monk remained where he stood, quiet and patient.

  Cassius smirked and turned to face him, leaning against the wall beside the window, arms folded across his chest. “Spill it,” he said. “What do you want from me?”

  The monk returned the smile, a fleeting trace of relief crossing his face before disappearing entirely. Cassius wondered if that emotional flicker was a crack in the armor of their training—a discipline that demanded neutrality no matter the circumstance.

  “I have an offer for you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It seems we’re hunting the same man and the devil behind him,” the monk said, moving to the opposite side of the barn. He gazed out of a window, his movements silent now that his strength had returned. Cassius noticed how he moved without making the air shift around him. While Cassius had mastered the art of stealth himself, the monk had clearly perfected it. For the first time, Cassius considered how useful it might be to learn from him.

  “It’s clear that we need each other.”

  Cassius raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’d side with you, especially after being deceived? Not that it caught me completely off guard,” he added with a wry smirk. “Still, it left a bitter taste.”

  “Right,” the monk replied, brushing off the jab. “I can cross to the other side and sense the spirits by detecting their energies. Every evil being leaves a trace, and so does Lard. When he’s there, I can track him. But when he’s in this pne, I can’t. That’s where you come in.”

  Cassius narrowed his eyes, his skepticism increasing. He had never imagined something like this could be possible.

  “What are you talking about?”

  The monk sighed, pausing as if contempting how much to reveal. “You must have some idea about us monks,” he began. “Everyone in Adaria does. We possess a unique form of magic. I don’t expect you to understand its full extent, but know this: some of us, those who’ve attained certain strengths, can peer through the veil into the other side.”

  Cassius said nothing, feeling uneasy. He didn't know the direction this conversation was heading. It was magic, upon more magic, each revetion darker than the previous. Sure, he’d wanted to hunt the supernatural—but not to be dragged into something this massive, something that felt far beyond his grasp.

  “You got here on your own, without assistance, something that comes naturally to a spellbde,” the monk continued.

  Cassius raised a hand, cutting him off.

  “I am no wizard,” he said firmly. “I got here because I’m a trained bounty hunter. My skills were recognized by the Axis of Seraphim, and I was chosen for this mission.”

  “Is that what they told you?” the monk asked.

  Cassius felt a surge of frustration and the urge to argue. He wanted to insist the monk was wrong, to expin that the Axis of Seraphim weren’t some corrupt group plotting to eliminate him out of fear. That idea was ridiculous; Cassius wasn’t someone to be feared, though a part of him wished he were.

  Instead, he turned away, refusing to answer. The monk, perceptive enough to read the moment, said nothing further and let the silence settle between them.

  The memories Cassius had worked so hard to bury began to creep into the edges of his mind, relentless and uncalled for. He tightened his grip on the emotions that surged with them, forcing himself to focus on the answers he so desperately needed. He knew that if he didn’t give this mission everything he had, he was doomed to fail. But after witnessing the horrors Zenior and Lard were capable of, he understood that even with all the information he could gather, it might not be enough to prepare him for what y ahead.

  He was three, perhaps four, the first time he witnessed his parents arguing. Their faces were a blur, their features lost to time, but fragments of their words had lodged themselves in his memory, clinging there for years to come.

  “......dangerous, and you don’t care enough about your son…”

  “...regret…born. A weakness…”

  Cassius remembered the days his mother locked him in a room, leaving him alone from morning to night, sometimes even longer. He’d cried himself to sleep countless times or gone days without food. But one of the two memories that had left the deepest scar was stumbling upon his father’s death.

  He could still see it vividly: his father fighting like a madman, fending off seven men cloaked in dark robes, their faces obscured by matching masks. They carried an array of close-range weapons, but his father evaded them with a grace and speed that seemed almost otherworldly. At such a tender age, Cassius had believed that his father was some sort of a warrior or even a hero. Now, he was being forced to question what he’d believed in all this time.

  But if the monk was right about him, then his father had truly been a spellbde. Only they were whispered about for their unnatural agility, speed, and strength. That was all Cassius knew about them, and this, too, from the fragments of rumors he had picked up in passing.

  Cassius had never let his thoughts linger on it. He might have looked for answers about certain wizards erased from history if he had. But avoidance had been easier—until now.

  No matter how hard he tried, Cassius couldn’t forget the day his mother had taken his hand with a serene smile and led him to the market. It was a rare outing; she had never taken him anywhere before. Young Cassius had been excited, thrilled to step out into the daylight and the bustling market at her side. He had even dared to hope she might buy him one of those sugar-syrup-covered candies he’d caught other children licking.

  “Get in there, hurry,” his mother had urged suddenly, pushing him toward the narrow, cocooned space between two stalls overflowing with goods. The stallkeepers were too busy with throngs of customers to notice them.

  “But, mother…” Cassius had tried to protest, only for her to pinch him sharply under the arm, silencing him with the sting. He’d learned not to cry out, and this time was no different.

  “Listen to me,” she whispered urgently, her eyes darting frantically across the sea of faces around them. “If they catch you, they’ll kill you. Better to stay here.”

  “You’ll come back for me, right?” he whispered, clutching at her arm as she began to pull away.

  She didn’t answer. She only gnced back at him over her shoulder, her expression unreadable, before vanishing into the crowd.

  Art above by Nelson Oga

  Cassius bit the inside of his cheek, yanking himself out of the memory. It was a nightmare that had rooted itself into his very being. He looked up, his gaze locking with the monk’s, who was studying him with an unsettling calm.

  “What’s your name?” Cassius asked, his voice rough. He cleared his throat, unsettled by how off-bance he felt, acting outside his usual element. After all his years of training to numb himself, he stood on the edge of discarding it all.

  “Dreu,” the monk replied. He didn’t eborate, nor did he seem inclined to. Cassius nodded, his gaze dropping to his feet as his thoughts spun, trying to piece together everything unfolding around him.

  “Let’s assume I take you up on your offer,” he said, stepping forward, his tone measured. “What’s in it for me?”

  Dreu raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity passing over his otherwise impassive face.

  “I use your skills to track Zenior and Lard in this pne,” the monk expined, “and, in return, I use my powers to help you complete your mission without dying.”

  Cassius clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding slightly. Dreu’s tone was steady, but something in his choice of words grated, like a subtle mockery. Part of him wanted to turn the monk down, to slip away as he had with so many others years ago. It didn’t matter how powerful the other person was. Cassius was, now with unsettling crity, a spellbde. It had always been easier for him to vanish, to remain unnoticed until he chose otherwise.

  But now Cassius found himself standing at a precipice; taking Dreu’s offer would set him on a path far beyond his imagination, while turning it down would pce a target on his back, forcing him into hiding in the ghettos for years, waiting to be found again.

  Cassius didn’t need to think long about the choice before him. It was time for him to confront his past and uncover why the Axis of Seraphim had set a trap just for him.

  Stay tuned for the next chapter on 05/09/25