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Tears quaked to be released behind her eyes, and she blinked them back, taking deep inhales and exhales to steady herself. Her head resumed a slight throb, and she massaged her fingers to it to will it away. Something prickled on the skin behind her neck, snaking its way down her body.

When she turned around, she froze on the spot.

He was cloaked in the same darkness of the night.

The creature floated to her; she wanted to run, but her feet were glued to the ground. Something was wedged in her throat when she wanted to tear out a scream. The creature advanced, all smoke and shadows, and stopped before her.

The face was half hidden beneath the mask, and those eyes, two orbs of fire flaming in its socket, were focused on her. Neera let out a weak whimper.

“Your time is near,” the figure’s voice surrounded her from everywhere; in front, behind, above. “You are my final piece, and I only come to check my treasure. Embrace your fate when it comes, and I will be here for you.”

And just like a passing wind, it was gone. Neera’s feet, suddenly weak, collapsed her to the ground. She backed away on all hands and legs with a shriek. She managed to stand and run out the doors, screaming when she bumped into the Queen.

“Neera! I have been looking everywhere for you!” Jasmine said. Neera shuddered like a leaf, her eyes wild with fear, and Jasmine grew alarmed.

.....

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” The Queen asked.

But Neera only ran. She was out the doors, her feet willing her to go outside the castle gates, but she knew the security there was thick. No one would understand, and no one would let her out. So she stood, frantic, lost, confused, and a hand reached out to her, letting a scream out of her.

“Neera, it’s me!” Jasmine held Neera tight. “What’s happening to you?”

Neera threw her arms around the Queen, tipping Jasmine off balance. She buried her face in her shoulder, and the tears came endlessly.

….

Vultures circled the sky above, their sharp cries ringing with impatience. The air stilled with death, and rancid fumes thickened like smoke. There was no sign of animal life, no skittering squirrels on the sickly trees or flowers to call unto the bees.

It was death itself residing there.

The soldiers made a protective circle around the King and the General, weapons ranging from arrows to swords in their hands, and their senses were sharpened to alert them of even the slightest noise.

Zavian’s boots crunched on the dried grass, Azriel by his side. They had only arrived at dawn, when one of the Knights had reported a new human going missing into another forest, just on the border of his own Kingdom.

They were getting closer, whatever they might be.

Azriel walked ahead of him and parted the tall, brown clump of grass. He looked at Zavian, a bad sign, the King read on his face.

Zavian stepped forward, and the flies announced themselves before the body they were feasting on. Skin wrinkled to a dark, lifeless color, mangled fingers stretched out as if begging for help or death, whichever one was more merciful, and hollowed-out eyes looked up to him. Zavian and Azriel exchanged glances.

“Soul eaters?” Azriel asked.

“Something worse.”

“Does that mean the children, the women as well…,”

“Possibly. If anything could do this to a young man, do not expect it to have a soul when faced with others.”

Zavian bent before the body. It had the rotting smell of a dead body, but there was something else there, like the fumes of a fire, as if he had been burnt on the inside.

“We have to move fast,” Azriel said. “Comb every forest. I will send the word out to the soldiers…”

Zavian held up a hand to silence him. He reached out to the hand, and as soon as he touched a finger, it broke off like a twig, ashen dust scattering in the air.

“What is that?” Azriel asked.

Zavian dusted his hands off and stood. “Have all surrounding forests combed immediately. They are advancing towards this place,” Zavian backed away. “I have to go back to meet with Freya. Leave the body until I say it is to be buried.”

Azriel nodded in understanding.

Zavian mounted his horse, the creature unsteady beneath him. He took off on his own, leaving Azriel to go about his duties. He could see Aloysius in all of what was happening, but there was something still missing, a trick game his father was playing from the Underworld.

When he reached the castle, he sent word to his sister before walking off to his study. He didn’t have to wait for long for Freya to join him, and she wore that same bored expression on her face.

“To what do I own the grace of your presence, brother?” She stewed her words in sarcasm.

“Aloysius is plotting something, and I need to know what,” Zavian said.

Freya wore a frown. “And how would Father plot something here when he’s all the way in that hell of a place?”

“That is what I need you to help me understand,” Zavian said.

He reached for the scrolls on his shelf, pulling out one and removing the parchment of paper inside. With one sweep of his hand, he cleared his table, and everything fell to the floor.

Zavian laid the map on the table, and Freya stepped forward.

“Crastun, just close to Grenoa first”, Zavian pinned the location on the map. “Then Grenoa, at random places, first was the hunters”, he put two more pins on the map. Freya watched on wordlessly.

“He’s made his way to other kingdoms”, Zavian took seven more pins and put them on the map. “All major disappearances that happened over the weeks.”