8.

Who am I?

“Don’t move.”

Dominic glanced over at the blade calmly.

“Don’t even think about running.”

“I wasn’t trying to run.”

“Be quiet. Turn around slowly.”

Dominic complied, carefully turning to face the demon who had chased him there. It was a man just barely taller than he was. His grey hair was long and pale.

The demon raised his hand, a glowing gold ring floating above his palm. It flaked away, then reappeared on Dominic’s neck like a collar. So they did have some things in the way of magic devices.

He touched the ring with a finger. It was cold, almost like stone. The demon lowered his sword.

“Come with me,” the man ordered.

“Why?”

His brow furrowed at the sudden question.

“You don’t have a choice.”

He pulled his hand back as if tugging an invisible rope. The ring around his neck moved towards him, but Dominic didn’t budge.

The ridge between the man’s brows deepened. Something was wrong.

“Why should I?” Dominic asked again, relaxed. “How will you make me?”

The man clicked his tongue.

“Because these are the viscount’s orders,” he answered.

“And if I don’t follow?”

“Then I will just kill you now.”

He raised his sword again to his neck.

“Do you enjoy following these kinds of orders?” Dominic asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” the man responded, sneering. “This is business between you and the lord. It has nothing to do with me.”

“You are the one standing here.”

“This is the viscount’s wish, not mine.”

Dominic narrowed his eyes. He brought his hand up to the sword’s edge and grabbed it.

“But the one holding the sword is you.”

The man tried to resist, but it was no use. His grip tightened. The metal crumpled, then snapped.

The sound of the shards falling echoed through the silent air. He watched them as they glittered and glinted in the moonlight before clattering to a rest on the roof tiles, then turned to the demon in front of him.

He stepped forward. The demon slashed at him with the remainder of the sword in alarm. He swiped it aside with the back of his hand.

The man backed away, motioning as if to tug at a rope. Dominic didn’t budge. He tried to raise his sword again, but Dominic grabbed his wrist hard. The bones crunched audibly as he shouted and let go of the weapon in pain.

Dominic kicked the sword away. He didn’t mind Silas, despite his loyalty to the viscount. At least he had his own convictions. But he hated people like this. Puppet subordinates. Compliant cowards. People who had no spine of their own, and just followed whatever others told them to do.

In a last ditch effort, the demon mumbled something under his breath, then reached out with his good hand. A leash, glowing the same gold as the ring on Dominic’s neck, appeared in his hand.

He tugged at it. Dominic stumbled one step closer.

“I’ve got you now,” he seethed through his teeth.

“Really?”

The man looked up, their gazes meeting. The expression on his face wavered once he saw the look in Dominic’s eyes.

“Who am I?” Dominic asked.

“Huh? Ugh—”

The man took a step back, covering his nose.

It must have been disorienting for a demon. It must have been torture to have to be near him.

The scents around Dominic kept changing. From the same, stale smell that came off of the man to damp earth to wet sand and the pebbles that rolled in with the waves to the salt that crusted the shore to the seaweed that piled in long lines on the rocks to the grasses that barely managed to sprout between the boulders of the cove, hidden from the sun, hidden from the sky. From grass to weeds to wildflowers to daisies to the overpowering scent of perfumed roses to a magnolia tree on a sunny day, petals wide and blooming, littering the ground, rustling with the breeze, the scent of old cabin wood and a fireplace carried in on the same gust of wind; there was somebody inside, warm, cooking, eating, speaking, and then everything jerked away and the world smelled like cracked earth and fire. From ash to embers to smoke to flames to an inferno, burning thick, burning black, burning so that nothing could be seen but endless red, nothing could be heard but crackling flames, nothing could be sensed but the thick, unbelievable array of scents that was coming off of Dominic, constantly changing, constantly shifting, constantly disappearing and reappearing, a maze leading continually in a downward, upward, unpredictable spiral. From heavy wine to river water to swamp mud to dried blood to fingernails to rotting wood to shattered glass to anthills to rich chocolate to a strangled whisper. The demon was frozen as the mana fluctuated wildly, collapsing to his knees, his senses completely overloaded with information that wasn’t actually there—information that was swirling in the mana around Dominic like a whirlwind, crackling like fire.

“You haven’t answered me yet,” Dominic said, crouching down to meet his eye level. “Who am I?”

He gathered the mana around him thicker and thicker, imagining one person in particular. Dense and black. Murkier than a bog. Suffocating from air that felt like mud in the lungs. Mana that made him want to gag and vomit and drink seawater just to clear it away. He couldn’t perfectly copy the grudges that clung to the viscount like molasses, but he could imitate that deep, dense mess. It made him feel disgusting. It made the demon cough and retch over the cement of the roof.

“Y-you, you’re—”

The man looked up, and when his gaze met Dominic’s, he froze, mouth still half open.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologized, bowing his head down, eyes wide and frantic. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He looked down at the demon.

“I’m going to ask you some questions,” he stated. “Answer.”

The demon, who was mashing his face into the ground, raised his head slightly. He nodded.

“Was anyone else sent out to monitor me?” Dominic asked.

“None.”

That was as expected. He hadn’t smelled out any others.

“What about the crow?” he continued. “Is there anyone following him?”

“Th-there…”

Dominic clicked his tongue.

“You’re hesitating?”

“There are!”

“How many?”

“Just one.”

Dominic grabbed the man by his hair and smashed his head into the ground.

“You’re going to lie to me?” he said.

“I’m sorry!” the demon yelled. “There’s four!”

Four. One for Aster, then probably one for each of the three siblings he had mentioned. They were more thorough than he’d expected. He hadn’t even met Aster’s family yet, but they were already preparing to hold them all hostage.

“Do the rest all have the same affinity as you?” he asked.

The demon nodded, eyes shut tight, forehead grinding into the stone and grit of the rooftop.

“Good.”

Dominic let go of his hair. He looked up tentatively, face battered and smeared with blood.

“Heal.”

The scrapes on his forehead closed, the skin mending itself over. The demon looked at him with wide eyes.

“Why…”

Before he could say more, he slowly began to pale.

“What, what’s happening?”

Strength was seeping out of his body.

“What did you do?”

His voice came out raspy, like he was struggling for breath. Dominic stayed silent, watching as the demon stared fearfully at him, the color slowly draining from his visage.

They called it the healing affinity, but that wasn’t all it did.

If there was a way to give life, then there was a way to take it away.

“I did everything you asked!” the man pleaded frantically.

The only thing he received was Dominic’s disinterested reply.

“I don’t need a coward.”

If he left the man alive, he’d just report back to the viscount anyway. And he especially despised people who blamed their actions on orders from a higher power. He had known far too many.

The man must’ve seen it in Dominic’s gaze. He was going to die here.

“No…no, no…”

Their eyes met for an instant as his body heaved.

“Please…”

He was only met with an uncaring look. A coward who lived by only blindly listening to others had no right to make his own pleas.

“I don’t want to die.”

“It won’t hurt.”

From the tips of Dominic’s fingers, thin, almost invisible threads of mana appeared, connecting to the man’s heart like puppet strings. The threads glowed purple in the light of the hazy moon. They pulsed as if alive.

“No, no, no…”

The man repeated that one word, over and over, like he was saying a prayer.

The threads only grew stronger as his calls faded, his breathing becoming shallower and shallower, his body slowly going slack.

“Sleep,” Dominic said. “I hope you have a terrible dream.”

His voice, hoarse and barely above a whisper, only managed to choke out one last line.

“Isn’t this…already the nightmare?”

The man’s eyes, hazy and unfocused, searched for his face. He found nothing but a calm, unperturbed visage looking back at him.

“…No……no……”

His eyes finally rolled back, body going limp. The strings connected to him snapped. The purple mana recoiled and gathered in Dominic’s palm, swirling for a brief moment before breaking away like dust in the wind, disappearing into the chilly night air.

There was no scent coming from the man anymore. All his mana had dissipated, leaving only a pale corpse laying on the ground, eyes still wide open in panic.

Dominic stood and turned away. He touched the cold ring around his neck. It hadn’t disappeared yet, despite its owner’s death. He grabbed it with his fingers and pulled.

The glowing collar ripped like paper in his grip. It flaked into pieces, then disintegrated into tiny gold sparks, flickering with light before finally blinking out.

He looked out on the city, the many roofs of the districts laid out before him, the slums a dark mass of broken stone in the distance. Aster and the siblings were surely asleep by now, he hoped.

There were four more left to go.

∞

The rest of the spies weren’t much. One, a ferret, hid her presence considerably better than the others, but she was still no match for his nose. Aster must have already returned home, because he never sensed the crow’s presence around. Dominic went to look for the boy himself.

The uneven cobblestone and winding streets of the slums passed him as he followed his nose to one specific makeshift house in the ruins—four presences inside, one of which was definitely Aster.

He drew open the cloth curtain they had for a door and stepped quietly through. Aster was still sleeping when Dominic found him, curled up under a thin blanket. He shook the boy gently awake.

“Blurgh?”

He looked up at Dominic with a bleary gaze.

“Dominic?!” he exclaimed, eyes shooting open. “What’re you doing here? It’s already—”

He glanced around the room before quickly realizing there had never been any clocks inside.

“—Actually I don’t know what time it is. What’s going on?”

“How good are your siblings at hiding?” Dominic asked.

That woke him up quickly.

“Very good. Why?”

“You and your siblings need to hide for the time being,” he said. “The viscount will be disposing of me soon, so it’s possible he might come after all of you as well.”

He ignored the shocked look on Aster’s face and kept talking.

“There isn’t anyone following you anymore, so now’s the only time you’ll have to disappear.” He omitted the reason their tails had vanished. “Once he sends out new spies in the morning, they’ll be able to track you again if you haven’t already started hiding.”

“Wait wait wait wait wait.”

Aster waved his hands around to stop Dominic from speaking further.

“Hold on. First, what do you mean by disposing?” he asked.

“He’s going to make me go into the fog,” Dominic answered bluntly.

“What?! You’ll die!”

“I won’t.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“It’s fine if you don’t,” Dominic replied. “As long as you all follow my warning and hide.”

He lowered his eyes.

“Once I go into the fog, they’ll assume I’m dead and stop looking for you. You just need to hide until then.”

Aster frowned.

“But what about you?” he asked. “What are they going to do with you? Even if the fog doesn’t kill you, what about after?”

A look of fear mixed with anger grew on his face.

“That son of a bitch will never let you go alive. Everyone knows it. Even if we hide and survive, you’ll never be able to come back.”

“I can take care of myself,” he said. “So you should take care of your side. Don’t worry about what happens to me.”

Aster still looked unconvinced. Behind him, Dominic saw three silhouettes peeking from around the corner of the hall. Two girls and a young boy. They started as his eyes moved towards them.

“…Your siblings?” he asked.

Aster nodded without needing to look back.

“Go back to sleep,” the boy said.

“Don’t want to,” one of the girls replied.

“Ria.”

“You’re talking about something important, aren’t you?”

“I’ll tell you later, so go back to bed, all of you.”

Ria, the one who had spoken out, crossed her arms with a ‘hmph’ before begrudgingly turning around and heading back down the hall. The other two lingered, glancing warily at Dominic.

“…Are we in trouble, brother?” the other girl asked, fidgeting with her fingers. She looked the same age as Ria, maybe ten or eleven.

“It’s not like that, Lia,” Aster replied. “Go get some rest.”

“…Okay. Let’s go, Moore.”

She left, leading the youngest boy away with her by the hand. Aster sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Will you be alright?” Dominic asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “They can all transform as well, so it won’t be hard to hide, but…”

“You must regret getting involved with me.”

He didn’t deny it. Dominic was partially responsible for the situation, but so was he. They had all ended up tangled in the business of the viscount, against their better judgement.

Dominic reached into his pocket and produced a pouch full of coins. It rattled as he set it down next to Aster.

“This won’t buy your safety,” he said, “but I’m not going to need it.”

Aster looked down at it, then back up to Dominic.

“You talk as if you’re really going to die,” he replied.

“You’re misunderstanding.”

Dominic stood, brushing off his clothes.

“Do whatever you want with that money. It’s yours now. Just make sure you hide before dawn.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I have to go back.”

Aster frowned, his eyes wandering as he thought.

“If you return,” he said, looking up, “can I come find you again?”

Their gazes met. Dominic turned around and shrugged.

“Do what you want.”

As long as he did his part and properly hid with his siblings before morning, they would escape the worst possible scenario. That was all he needed.

Dominic drew aside the curtain and stepped outside. The cold night air descended on him. In the distance, the windows of the castle burned like pinprick stars.

Now it was his turn to go and properly die.