Zara had never seen such a grotesque creature in her life.

She screamed again, as loud as she could, for help.

But the street was quieter than the dead. The mists had settled over the roads, as they do a graveyard. She was left struggling in the slimy grip of this decrepit thing who screamed right back in her face. Its breath smelled worse than literal shit. Its teeth were rotten and half of them were missing. It was also much stronger than it looked, and Zara could not wring herself away. Its nails dug painfully into her arm. Some of its fingers were fused together.

Zara winced, letting out another hard cry. The creature knocked the satchel off Zara’s shoulder. A packet of scales, some crumpled notes, and her coin purse flew out.

The creature screeched in delighted surprise before shoving Zara away and lunging after the purse.

“Wait!” Zara yelled. Wait…what am I doing?!

The creature opened up the purse with its bony, rattling hands, greedily counting the coins inside.

Zara caught her breath, shivering as the wet mists drifted over her.

Upon another look, Zara realized that the creature—so distracted by the shiny, clinking coins—was a person.

It did not look so much like a person than a skeletal monster straight out of horror tale, but it was a woman with a heavily disfigured face, and a body rail thin.

Zara ran to her satchel and pulled out a small dagger. She ripped the protective covering off it, recited a defense spell as best as she could remember, and charged toward the creature—the woman—struggling to stand. Her grunts were loud and abnormal, like an animal.

All Zara had to do was stab her. Not even a full stab. A slice would do just fine. The thing in front of her would collapse like dust either way and Zara could run home without any worry.

But it wasn’t a thing. It was a woman. A woman who had paused to examine Zara’s face, coin purse still in hand, while her stick thin body quaked against the cooling air. She was practically naked, wearing only a thin under dress barely concealing her body. Her washed-out skin was littered with patches of brown and red sores. Her face was like thawed wax.

The woman was silent now. Her panting breaths whistled out of her one visible nostril and exposed teeth. Her crusty lower lip shook as her eyes moved to the dagger’s blade. She hunched over, like she’d just realized the gravity of the situation, and moaned pathetically.

The dagger trembled in Zara’s hand, unable to make its descent. Zara could feel the magic wearing off it.

Useless. It’s useless…

The woman took a crippled step back. Then another. She had not let the coin purse go.

“Give it,” Zara whispered. “Give it back, please.”

The woman bolted.

Zara lurched forward with the dagger, shocked. “Stop!”

Before she could even begin to chase the woman, a giant beast leaped out of the foggy mists, its loud growls cutting across the vacant streets.

A wolf. But it wasn’t just any wolf. It was a Mogheirian species that only existed in the far north. Its fur was thick and black, its body was larger than four grown men, its eyes were small and white, and its temper towards mankind was as severe as its sharp teeth and claws.

Zara had seen this particular wolf before. She knew who it was. She’d just never seen him act like a savage. She let the dagger drop to the ground in fearful disbelief.

The haggard woman had run a few steps before the wolf pounced on her. Its claws easily ripped her skin apart. Her agonizing wails went on and on as the wolf’s teeth nipped at her disfigured face, before it finally showed her some mercy and chomped its jaws into her skull.

Zara whirled away before she started vomiting. “What are you doing?! What are you doing?! Stop that!” she cried with her palms pressed against her ears. The rumbling slurps and cracking of bones were unbearable.

“What?” came Revan’s voice. “This thief would have gotten away with all your coin if I hadn’t stepped in.”

Zara slowly turned her head, only to quickly look away again. She had gotten an unfortunate glance of the bloody sight on the road and it was making her dizzy.

“Stepped in? You mauled her!”

Revan was obviously back to normal form. He walked over to her and dangled her purse playfully in front of her face.

It was covered in blood.

“Ugh, you carry it. Please. And get it away from my face. I don’t want it dripping on me.”

“Is this your thanks?”

Zara let out a heavy sigh. She wiped loose strands of damp hair off her face. She was covered in cold mist and hot sweat and just wanted to head back home and forget any of this happened.

“You killed her.” She finally faced him. He looked perfectly aloof, like he wasn’t a fucking beast just a second ago.

“Wipe your face,” she said, uneasily. “There is blood on the corner of your lip.”

“Oh.” He casually wiped his mouth with his cloak sleeve.

Zara stared at him. “How can you stand that?”

He shrugged. “It does not faze me.”

“And what will you do about the body?”

“Dispose of it.”

“Huh?” Zara squeaked as he went back to the body she couldn’t look at.

“You should turn around and watch. This could be your next lesson.”

“No. I can’t watch this. I can’t do that.”

Revan huffed, annoyed. “Fine. For now. I could show you on a lesser animal like a rat or a bird. But it would do you good to not be so afraid of seeing death.”

“Unlike you, I think I still have a bit of humanity left in me.”

Revan said nothing. She heard soft rustling and crunching behind her, then a light puff like someone had dusted off a pillow. Zara cautiously turned her head again, still afraid to face the mangled body but curious enough to want to know how he was handling it. She was surprised to see that the body and the blood was replaced with a mound of ash-colored soil.

“What is that?” she asked, walking up to the mound. “What did you do?”

“I decomposed her.”

“…Into this?”

“Well, I can’t leave her bones lying so openly in this road now, can I?” He started to kick at the mound, spreading the disgusting soil out.

“Stop!” Zara squealed, cringing.

“What is it now?”

“It…she…don’t you think we should have buried her?”

“What? This thing?” He chuckled and continued kicking the soil out. “And where out here could we have done so anyway?”

“She was a woman…” Zara hesitated.

“A hag, you mean. Go pick up your things. Check to see if my scales are accounted for, at the very least. The herbs might have suffered some damage but—”

But Zara had other concerns. “I don’t understand,” she mumbled.

Revan stopped shuffling his feet and looked at her. “What don’t you understand?”

“What happened to her?”

“I killed it,” he stated bluntly. “And now I am concealing its existence. No one will question any extra dirt around these streets. You should be more aware of your surroundings, by the way.”

“What?”

“Have I not taught you how to keep your senses alert?”

“I can’t do it as well as you,” Zara argued, embarrassed. In fact, she hadn’t thought to use low level magic to stay alert tonight. She’d felt too safe to need it. That had been a big mistake.

“A pitiful excuse. You are never safe, no matter where you are. Remember that. Also, you have no right to criticize my method, considering what you were about to do with that dagger. Which would have yielded similar results.”

Zara sighed, running her hands down her face. “I couldn’t do it. I know it’s wrong. I know. I could have done it…but I didn’t.”

“Your feelings are misplaced. You see this thing as a person. It is not. It is dangerous. It could have done you serious harm, had you not had any coin on you to distract it.”

“…You didn’t answer my question properly. I’m not asking what’s happening to her now, I’m asking what happened to her to make her like…the way she was.”

Revan kicked the dead soil again. “It was a user. Its mental condition is enough proof of it.”

Zara was aghast. “I knew that but…just a user? We’ve seen plenty of those but none as bad as this—or at least, I have not.”

“Yes. You have not. Whatever this hag was using, petals or otherwise, it was extremely potent. That’s why it wanted your money. It was entirely dependent on buying and using. Its life was nothing otherwise. As for its disfigurement—which I know is what you are concerned most over—it likely got itself into trouble with some cruel authorities, or underground thugs. It was severely burned. I believed it first to be from flame, but upon closer look, it might have been acid.”

“Oh…” A violent life and a violent end. What a terrible fate.

Revan scoffed. “And people think mages are the only ones capable of producing such terrible poison.”

“You don’t sympathize at all?” Zara asked quietly.

“I only sympathize with those deserving sympathy. I don’t sympathize with junks like this.” He kicked the dirt once last time. “Now go gather your things, please. Someone is coming.”

“What?! How do you know—” Zara stopped herself. It was a useless question. She quickly picked up the packet of scales and papers and shoved them into her satchel. “Revan, are you sure no one saw us? Or heard us? Ugh, did you really have to use the wolf?” She glanced at the dark windows of the buildings around them.

“I wasn’t any more noisy than you were. Besides, no one saw us. I would have acted differently otherwise. And for your information, I quite like using the wolf.”

Zara pulled the satchel straps over her shoulders and stared into the once-again quiet street, lit by a few sconces and the moonlight reflecting off the mists.

“…No one came to help me. No one even looked.”

“People who have lived here long enough learn to only look after themselves and fear everything else. A mere look can involve you in situations you’d rather stay out of. It is safer that way. You can’t trust many people, Zara.”

“But I can trust you of course,” she muttered.

Revan smiled. “Of course.” He looked to the road behind them, and his smile disappeared. “Now, let’s go before we are seen.”

They started striding back to their house.

“Wait a minute,” Zara said. “This person…is the only one that has come out here. Why? Could it be curiosity or…are they another threat? Why are they heading this way?”

Revan did not answer. For some reason, he seemed entirely disturbed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried. “Did this person see us? Do they…know something they shouldn’t?”

“No. But they are what I like to refer to as an anomaly.” His expression tightened. “I don’t like anomalies.”

He pulled his cloak hood over his head and walked faster. Zara followed, pulling her hood on as well.

The screams had erupted half a mile away from her home.

The sounds were so torturous that she couldn’t stay put. She wondered, as she exited the building she’d moved into the week prior, why no one else was coming out to investigate. Every window of every home and shop were closed and darkened by curtains.

Is this a mistake? Is there something they know that I don’t?

The screams dragged on. She could distinguish the voices of two women, and one of them was crying for help.

She considered going back upstairs. No one else seemed to care and the mists were thick. She could get lost; she did not know the area very well yet. But it was not in her nature to abandon someone in need of help.

She walked far and as fast as her long legs would allow her, relying on the noise for guidance. It was strange. At one point it seemed like a dog had gotten involved. She’d heard growls and roars. No…it had to be bigger than a dog. These women were being attacked by a wild animal! She quickened her pace.

Then, all was quiet. Are they dead? Am I too late? Had that animal gotten them? She continued to wander forward with uncertainty.

She heard faint voices up ahead. The thick mists were blocking her sight, but she thought she heard a man speaking. He was still too far to hear.

Her mind urged her to turn back, that there was nothing here to see. That she was being foolish. Then it told her she would regret her next step, that danger lurked beyond the mist. She had a strange, abnormally sudden desire to cower. This wasn’t like her at all. She did not cower easily.

Angered with herself, she forced the stupid voices out of her head. It took a couple of minutes until she was able to walk forward again.

Her cowardliness had fled, but so had all other sound. There was no man, no women, no animal…nothing.

She felt a hard crunch and prickling underneath the thin soles of her shoes, like she’d stepped over small stones. Gray sediment scattered the area.

What is this?

Whatever had happened, it was over. The streets were peaceful, though a little unnerving. She was beginning to wonder whether she’d just imagined it all. She’d been having trouble sleeping properly since changing homes. Maybe that’s all it was. A sleepless delusion. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She let out a frustrated sigh, running her fingers through her long, dark locks, dampened from the mist. She tightened her coat over her nightgown and was about to turn back when she noticed a small dagger on the side of the road.

She carefully picked it up. Engraved on the handle was a name.

“Zara…?” she whispered. She looked around and found herself facing a dark alley. She clutched the dagger, thinking of the name. A familiar feeling pooled in her gut. It told her that the owner of the dagger had gone down the opposite road, and wasn’t too far to approach.

Perhaps, come morning, she would attempt to find her way back here and return the dagger to its owner. She would let her strong instincts guide her as she always had. They never led her astray.

She was a stubborn woman, and would prove to herself that she wasn’t a deluded, impulsive idiot like others in the past have claimed her to be. She’d hiked half a mile on an empty, cold road in the dark for a valid reason and she knew it.

She ran her fingers over the engraved handle again. There had been a very odd occurrence here tonight, and this Zara person surely had something to do with it.