010 | Life Chronicles

As Arlo hurried through the streets of the small town, the magical pattern Azathan had painted on the back of his hand began to softly shimmer with a silvery glow. It was beautiful, albeit faint.

Umbravale City continued to breathe. While across town, Kieran might be exorcising the remaining dead souls, the townspeople carried on peacefully in their homes, emanating warmth.

Arlo tucked his hand into his coat pocket, feeling the night breeze whispering something peculiar to him. It hinted that in the darkest corners of this small town, the ghosts were hiding from the pursuit of hell. They wandered and threatened, perhaps content that neither witches nor sensitive children could sense their presence.

No, that thought was mistaken. Moving nimbly through the narrow gaps between houses, Arlo began to feel that emptiness. The complex feelings severed upon death's arrival. Feelings of being sidelined and ostracized when life mocked.

That's what Arlo felt as his steps led him to the grand house in the center of town with a prominent "FOR SALE" sign hanging on its gate. The Darklake family home.

Because the stone fence wasn't too high, Arlo quickly climbed it. He felt his hand glowing brightly as his nails gripped the gaps in the stones until he finally reached the top of the fence. Sitting there, he admired the view.

The Darklake house was immense. Made of high-quality wood, with pathways leading to the stables and warehouses. Wild grass grew waist-high in its spacious yard.

Then, Arlo saw it.

Several adult men stood in front of the house, chatting about grocery prices at the market, travel expenses, and various other matters that quickly concluded with nods and hand gestures over their chests. A large, stout woman called out from the direction of the house.

"Riley! Invite Sheila for lunch at home!"

From a corner of the garden, teenagers about Arlo's age sat on a wide piece of cloth, playing Varidianth Chess with a lemon tea set. Two of them were boys, while one was a girl.

Young Sheila.

"Come on!" invited one of the two boys, who seemed to be named Riley. He promptly stood up and pulled Sheila's hand. Strangely, it was only Sheila.

"Please tell Mrs. Darklake I can't have lunch here," Sheila gently declined. "Robby and I will have lunch at my place."

Arlo approached the three teenagers. Riley's face now looked completely sour. Exactly like the expression of the shadowless man Arlo had seen this evening.

"My mom went through the trouble of making your favorite meat pie," protested Riley. "At least you should have lunch here to make her happy."

Sheila shook her head and held onto Robby's hand. "I would love to have lunch here, but your mom didn't invite Robby," she murmured. "So, we'll just head home. It's probably best if you don't come along so your mom won't be too disappointed. Bye, Riley!"

Robby had packed all the chess pieces into the bag by now, while Riley paled. "Fine," Riley finally said. "You can have lunch at my place. Come on!"

Robby immediately smiled while Sheila looked somber. Nevertheless, the three of them walked towards the house, bringing all the light of their lives into it. Gone with the beautiful gardens, the adults conducting transactions, and the scent of meat pie from the house. Only emptiness and darkness remained, causing Arlo to stagger and feel dizzy.

Suddenly, he was pushed backward and collided with someone's chest. Arlo turned and found himself face to face with a pair of deep red eyes.

Azathan.