In the rowdy trade town of Erui, situated at the base of Mount Serto, the velvet hour settled like a gentle veil over its clamour. Traders drew their stalls closed with the clatter of wood and iron, while the smell of spiced wine and roasted meat lingered in the air. The mountain's shadow stretched long across the cobbled streets, and the cries of bargaining voices gave way to the softer murmur of taverns filling with laughter and song. Lanterns flickered to life one by one, chasing away the dimming light, as though the town itself refused to surrender entirely to the night.
During all this hustling and bustling, a figure emerged from one of the shops closing down. She wore a simple grey gown that covered her ankles, and walked with a measured stride—almost gracefully, but not quite the same. Her onyx-coloured hair fell neatly to her shoulders, and her eyes, a deep shade of purple, held a cool, business-like sharpness. A plastered smile rested on her lips, giving her the air of someone accustomed to bargaining. She cut across the streets, passing the town hall and the mayor's home, before heading down the slabbed street toward a crossroads.
She stood at the road patiently, waiting for a carriage or wagon to pass by. It was quite late, and it was rare to see any signs of life around here at this hour, but she needed to see her children, so she carefully waited.
Ten minutes, then thirty, then an hour, yet there was still no sign of a cart or wagon in sight.
The woman sighed deeply and decided to walk farther down the road until she found herself at another intersection. At that moment, a commercial cart pulled alongside her. The cart itself was looking rather worse for wear, and its driver closely resembled his vehicle. Even though the horses looked ugly and weak, it seemed like one well put-together family—but it would do. She couldn't waste any more time, or she'd risk worrying her little ones. She quickly entered the cart and handed the driver two copper Declans.
"Where to, woman?" the driver said boorishly.
The woman, unfazed by his attitude, simply replied,
"At the rear side of Mount Serto. When you get to Lord Erik's home, turn right and head towards Éclair Street. Drop me off there."
The driver nodded quietly, snapping his whip against the horses' heads to get them moving.
The journey was quiet and uneventful, except that the driver kept taking shortcuts that the woman didn't know about. Occasionally, he would pick up other passengers, all of whom had to cram themselves into the tight and uncomfortable cart.
Eventually, the cart reached its destination after five hours. The woman leapt off and began heading toward a narrow path without looking back or offering a 'thank you' to the driver.
She took quick turns down the path and arrived at a shabby hut, dim lanterns flickering on its outer walls. The roof looked like better days might once have seen it—though one couldn't be sure if even days cared much for it. The ground was muddy from the terrible weather, and the air hung heavy with dampness. The woman went straight to extinguishing the lanterns, gathering them carefully in her hands.
At the porch, she nudged the door open with her foot and slipped inside. She dropped the lanterns by the door, then smacked her forehead with her palm. The house was dark, and she needed to see—she wasn't a bat, for soul's sake. Holding up her hand, she manipulated a small portion of her soul into a wisp of red flame at her fingertips. Opening the latch of one lantern, she dipped her hand into the oil reservoir and lit the wick. Closing the latch carefully, she hung the lantern on the wall.
As the darkness fled the room, she finally saw two small figures curled up on the floor, their faces serene with contentment. Here she was, thinking her children would be worried—yet it seemed they hadn't missed her at all. Smiling softly, she strode to them and lifted them onto her shoulders, carrying them to their shared room and laying them gently on the hay mat.
She undressed, slipped into her chemise, and nestled down between them, pulling them close.
Oh, how she loved them.
She fell into a deep slumber, making sure her children were safely within cuddling reach.
"Mother, wake up, the sun is already shining brightly!" Anna said, rocking her mother's body gently.
"Isn't it best to leave her alone, Anna? She looks extremely tired," came Roy's voice from the living room. "Go sweep the front yard first before you try waking her."
Anna left the room with a pout and glared at her brother.
"Gimme your broom. Mine's in a bad shape, it hardly sweeps the dirt, and it'll be worse today because of that Deron-forsaken rain."
"You moron, of course your broom's useless, that's because you tend to exert too much force on it." Roy shot back.
Anna, not ready for morning banter, snatched up her broom and went outside, rigorously sweeping at the muddy ground.
After a while of sweeping without any changes, she sets the broom aside and sits on a wooden chair.
'I should probably leave this until it dries up a little.
She noticed her brother in the makeshift outdoor kitchen where he was setting up the firewood to prepare breakfast, and walked towards him.
"Life's hard!!" Anna complained.
Roy chuckled. "You're too young to say such things."
''Ooooh, before I forget, Mother asked me to tell you to take ten copper declans from her bag and head to Éclair Street, to the seamstress's house. Pick up the dresses you'll both wear to the festival tonight."
Anna sighed and leaned her head against Roy's shoulder.
"Get the firewood going and boil water for me. It's freezing this morning."
Ruffling Anna's onyx hair, Roy broke kindling into a pile, encircled it with logs, then set two sturdy wooden poles on either side. Balancing a crossbeam, he hung a pot of water over the setup.
Carrying the basin of hot water her brother had prepared, Anna hurried into the wooden latrine at the edge of their compound. The structure was closed off, though its timbers had begun to rot with age. Inside, she stripped and took a calming bath, washing with the lye soap she had proudly made herself. The rough suds worked the dirt from her hair and skin, leaving her refreshed.
Once finished, Anna dressed in a neat, plain purple gown. She tied her onyx hair into a ponytail and went straight to the shared bedroom to fetch the copper declans from her mother's bag.
Anna left through the front yard and started down the desolate path toward Eclair Street. When she reached the street, she turned right and headed for the seamstress's shop. The place was no different from her house—worn and weather-beaten, its boards soft with rot.
The seamstress walked in with measured strides as she approached Anna. Something in her gait reminded the girl of her mother, and the thought brought a small smile to her face.
''My mother asked me to fetch the gowns she ordered for both of us in preparation for the festival tonight," Anna began softly. "She gave me eight Copper Declans to pay for them."
The old woman straightened her back and fixed Anna with a sharp look.
"Eight Copper Declans? That sly woman. We agreed on ten after half an hour of haggling, and now you come here with only eight?" She let out a weary sigh. "Forget it. It's not the first time your mother has shorted me in such a manner, wait for me here, I'm coming."
With that, the seamstress turned away and disappeared deeper into the shop to fetch the garments.
Anna smiled to herself as the seamstress disappeared into the back of the shop. She was now two copper Declans richer — at last, she had saved enough to buy her brother a gift for the coming festival. Her mother had refused her money, and so Anna had resorted to underhanded means to gather the coins. Still, the thought of surprising him with something of his own filled her with quiet pride.
Ten minutes later, the seamstress returned with the garments neatly folded in her arms. She handed them to Anna, who bowed curtly before hurrying out. Excitement quickened her steps; she could hardly wait to see how the gown would look on her.
Anna ran down Eclair Street, clutching the bundle tightly. She did not notice the odd figure lingering beneath the shade of a withered tree. Its gaze drifted aimlessly, neither fixed on her nor on anything in particular — and yet its presence hung over the street like a shadow that did not belong.
-----------------
When Anna arrived home, she rushed straight to the backyard, where her mother sat with Roy over a simple breakfast. Her breath still quick from running, she held up the folded garments with both hands, eyes shining.
"Mother, look!" she said, excitement spilling into her voice as she presented the clothes like a precious treasure.
Her mother's lips curved in amusement.
"Go into the house and try them on, then come show us," she said.
A few minutes later, Anna stepped out of the house wearing the new gown. The fabric, a plain but rich purple, fell smoothly to her ankles, its fresh folds still stiff from the seamstress's hand. The bodice hugged her frame neatly, while the sleeves tapered to her wrists with a touch of simple embroidery. She shifted slightly, testing how the cloth moved, and the hem whispered across the floor with each step.
Her mother's eyes swept over her carefully, measuring the fit as though weighing the seamstress's skill. Roy grinned at the sight of his sister dressed so fine. Anna tugged lightly at the waist and brushed her hands over the fabric, trying to grow used to how the gown rested on her.
"My beautiful girl," her mother said, smiling brightly, "you resemble a little flower."
She rose, lifting Anna into her arms before kissing her on the forehead.
Roy remained quiet, then stepped closer, ruffling Anna's hair with a crooked smile.
We returned to the guild a week later. As I expected, reports relating to the Derons had come in from different towns and villages. Derons weren't necessarily useful to the villagers, but since they didn't seem to eat or act much, they were always disregarded. Now, these Derons had begun acting differently. They were still docile and quiet, but their mere presence was enough to deteriorate farmlands toiled by villagers and take the life out of animals.
Ancient myths and texts had described Derons this way, beings who took the life out of every living thing. These texts could only be regarded as myths; the concept of being able to absorb life is unproven, but at that moment, it was impossible to say so. Every village had taken it upon itself to slaughter any Derons around them.
Date of Entry: 1st Day of the Eighth Month in the Creation Calendar
Time: 2:00 pm
Many mercenaries and knights from noble houses had taken it upon themselves to slaughter every Derons across the five continents. The growing fear was that these Derons would one day start absorbing the lives of people. A lot of expenses and manpower were put into this operation. I, of course, had to join; the pay was beautifully much, and I had leverage to continue studying the Derons. As expected, the friction between soldiers from noble houses and us mercenaries was quite pronounced, but I paid no mind to it, only focusing on my research.
Date of Entry: Third Week of the eighth month in the creation calendar.
Time of Entry: No Idea, I'm assuming I should be 9:00 pm
So far, the continent has slaughtered over 3000 Derons this past week. Quite a staggering number compared to other continents. We lodged in a bar in the capital of a large state. My party members are drinking quite a lot, that's because among every party in the continent, ours has killed the most Derons this week. 944 Derons by our party. Many drank, others had a hot time with the hostesses.
My experiments so far have been fruitless, it's about time I focus on slaughtering the Derons.
The church of Nous seems to be saying nonsense as usual, something about stopping the killing of Derons, and another nonsense about them not being able to die
Date of Entry: 5th Day of the Twelfth Month in the creation calendar
Time: 6 PM
Something funny just happened today. A month ago, all Derons across the five continents had been finally slaughtered. Everyone celebrated happily and returned to their normal lives. Now, a report came in again from that same nameless village, the one where the Derons had started absorbing the lives of animals and the soil. Everything written 5 months ago by the villagers was the same except for one terrifying fact: The Derons were now actively moving around and now resembled predatory beasts. The fact that they did not directly attack still did not change. The church was right, I'm going to sleep, I've been laughing for a whole hour.