Aurelia had kept the findings a secret from the villagers so far, but now that she was ready to leave with her brother, the people flocked to her for answers. “What did you find, my Lady?” the village chief asked. “Who is responsible for the abductions?” Aurelia realized she could not hide things forever and eventually relented. “It’s not a who, it’s a what,” she replied, stopping in her tracks. The villagers looked at each other in confusion; then one of the younger men asked, “Do you mean those children were taken by beasts?” “No,” Aurelia answered with a definitive shake of her head. “They were taken by monsters…necrophages to be precise.” One of the older men in the group stepped forward, pushing through the crowd, and asked, “What are necro…phagus?” “They are carrion eaters who feed on rotting corpses,” Aurelia replied. “But…why would they steal our children then?” one of the women burst out. “Our children were all healthy and…alive.” Aurelia knew if she divulged the horri
Having dealt with the Drekavac Fledglings, Ezra started looking for the missing children. But all he found were old, rotting corpses that had been buried here many months ago. The Drekavacs had dug up some of the more recent mounds and pulled out the villagers whose bodies had not fully decomposed yet. However, there was no sign of any fresh kill. “Are you sure these creatures wanted to feed on the children?” Marlin asked. “What do you mean?” Ezra asked. “What else would they need the children for?” “Well, necrophages are known to feed on dead, decaying corpses. They usually do not like attacking the living,” Marlin replied. “These ones are different,” Ezra answered as he continued to look around the headstones. “Drekavacs like preying on the weak and helpless. They like feeding on the soft flesh of infants.” Ezra searched the whole graveyard for the children, but he could not find any clues that would lead him in the right direction. Suddenly, something clicked in Ezra’s head.
While Ezra was busy dealing with the Drekavacs at the graveyard, Aurelia had made her way to the abandoned well. Many decades ago, when the people of Ashgrove used to worship the pagan Gods, the village elders had decreed that this well would serve as the perfect conduit to return the ruined gifts to the primal God of Death, Xerador. And so began the practice of dumping the stillborns inside the well and pouring tar over their bodies to signify their reunion with the darkness of death. All the unfortunate infants who had been dumped into this well had never received a proper burial, and the elders at that time had forbidden the villagers from performing their last rites. The dark days had finally come to an end with Ishani’s Priests converting the villagers to a higher faith and abolishing the malpractices. But even after all these years, the well remained intact as a grim reminder of the cruel past. Aurelia’s feet trembled as she neared the well. Crude, handmade dolls with butto
The Primal Drekavac pulled its lips back and bared its fangs at Aurelia, hoping to intimidate her, but she remained unmoved. Locking her eyes on her target, she fired her weapon. Bang! The golden orb decimated the Drekavac Fledglings within the frontal cone of Aurelia’s vision, but the Primal Drekavac survived, sustaining minor second-degree burns. “It looks like you are quite well-fed, big boy,” Aurelia smiled and holstered her gun. Before she could replenish her magic power, the Drekavacs standing around pounced upon her. Their razor-sharp claws were about to rip her open when she touched her rose-shaped pendant. Aurelia’s Spectral Companion materialized with a burst of white light, cocooning her inside a divine magic barrier. The Drekavacs, which had dared to pounce upon her, were vaporized in an instant, and the light emitted by the magic shell pushed the others back, dazzling their eyes. Blinded by the intense radiance, even the Primal Drekavac had no choice but to slowly b
The villagers moved like a collective horde, their eyes staring blankly into the emptiness and their faces cold and expressionless. “The Lord of Decay will offer us salvation.” “The King of Death will lead us into his light.” “All things must perish and return to his fold.” Holding flaming torches and pitchforks in their hands, the villagers moved while chanting praises of Zepheroth. Aurelia pulled Ezra by his hand and urged him to get a move on. “What is going on here?” Ezra felt as if he was living a nightmare. Everything felt too surreal, and nothing made sense. “They were all okay just a few minutes ago. We can’t leave them like this.” “This isn’t in our hands anymore. Only Ishani’s priests can help them now,” Aurelia said, firing a blank shot in the air. The villagers, however, did not even flinch. It became clear that they were no longer in their senses. Leaving them to their fate, Aurelia and Ezra mounted their horses and returned to Aranor. “It is best if we don’t m
The town of Aranor sprang into life with the first rays of the morning sun as the priests from the shrine of Ishani blew the sacred conch shell to signal the start of the festivities on the first day of Ishtara. Traveling merchants, traders, and sellers of various baubles and knickknacks set up their shops and stalls in the middle of the town square, displaying bright signs and posters to advertise their products. The whole town donned festive colors with brightly colored dahlias and tulips decorating the cottages and huts. Children played in the streets while women flocked to the shrine to offer their prayers to the Goddess. The open field behind the shrine of Ishani was transformed into a fairground with jugglers, magicians, and fire breathers setting up shop in designated locations. Meanwhile, the bards and mimes performed on stage, inviting both humans and non-humans alike to enjoy their show. Following in the footsteps of ancient familial tradition, Lord Sebastian went down to
Count Gressil arrived in a black carriage drawn by four purebred Dravarian Stallions with fiery red manes and glossy brown coats. His carriage was accompanied by a four-door stagecoach that carried his elite knights. As the Count dismounted from his carriage, his attendant ran up to place a stool under his foot and lay a silk carpet down on the path before him. His principal advisor, a surly-looking man wearing a pair of round-rimmed spectacles and a brown leather jacket whispered something in his ear while maintaining a peerless smile. Count Gressil was a well-built man with a square face and wavy black hair which skirted his shoulders. He was dressed in a black cloak with a thick furry collar and a gray leather jacket. Unlike his elite guards who were armed with blunderbuss rifles, Count Gressil chose to carry a modified black six-shot revolver on his hip and a curved dagger at his waist. The residents of Aranor flocked to catch a glimpse of the Count, but the town guards forme
What followed next was a whole minute of tense silence as this familial rivalry threatened to spiral out of control. Aurelia was furious to hear their conversation. She could no longer stand and watch her brother being insulted and ridiculed by the two rival families. “You forget that Cecilia is already betrothed to Ezra. What kind of mother would allow her own daughter to be a part of such a wager?” Aurelia asked, glaring at Lady Lillian. “I thought I had made it amply clear that my daughter was no longer interested in your crippled brother. But it seems like you want me to air out our private affairs in front of everyone,” Lady Lillian sneered. She then turned to Count Gressil and continued, “We are an honorable family, Your Excellency, but that does not mean I will ruin my daughter’s future with my own hands. As her mother, I must always keep her best interests in mind.” “I understand completely, my Lady,” Count Gressil replied reassuringly. Aurelia could not believe how the C