Returning to Ashgrove should feel welcoming, as it has ?for the seven months I’ve lived here, but now people hide their children from me, even glaring at me from the shadows of their doors and windows.

  Taren pushes me along, urging me to ignore them. “They’ll realize how ridiculous it is to think you're a demon after some time. Be patient.”

  This week’s Vigil comes quicker than I expect. Denet still doesn’t talk to me, though he isn’t cowering anymore. Raimi appears at the edge of my vision, as though she wants to say something but lacks the courage to approach.

  Part of me wants to reassure them both that I’m no demon, but I don’t know what I am.

  I arrive on the morning of Vigil with Taren. We both sit in the back. Raimi glances over her shoulder at the two of us as Edrine walks to the front of the chapel.

  Leira prepares with Edrine today. I hear a murmur from Ferlon’s wife in the next pew, saying that Leira already prepared candles eight Vigils ago. Clearly, Edrine rewards her for deriding me in public.

  As the holy smoke rises from the candles and fills the room, Taren glances over at me. He knows how much it hurts me. Yet, he doesn’t question what I am.

  I [Leech Grip] moss. My pockets have enough to heal myself twice over. I’m not as weak as my first time in Vigil.

  I siphon a smidge of vitality at a time, dulling some of the burning pain in my lungs and eyes. Edrine watches me from his stand before speaking.

  I don’t listen to his sermon. My mind focuses on the people in the chapel. I’ve put together a list of those who think I’m a demon: Rienna, the wife of Aedul, who I failed to heal, and her family. She blames me for his death, though she doesn’t realize how correct her superstition is—that’s what haunts me the most.

  Brennic’s family and Dargan’s family also think I’m a demon, though Dargan remains noncommittal. And of course, Honep and his family.

  A few don’t have an opinion: Old Widow Solib, Ferlon’s family, Elder Rorahn, and the brothers Kelra and Hulen, who live on the north edge of Ashgrove.

  The only people who openly defend me are Marlene and Taren, though Orlen asks people to “let the boy be a boy” and “give the whole demon nonsense a rest.” He probably feels indebted to me for Raimi’s healing.

  Taren tenses beside me as I move my eyes along the pews. Edrine must be speaking some insults about me. Even Nox rustles under my shirt, sensing my friend’s distress.

  I have two reasons for attending Vigil: to regain the trust of the village and prevent my situation from worsening. Edrine’s never held back while I’ve skipped Vigil. I don’t see what can change now that I sit in the pews.

  I [Leech Grip] a quarter of my moss by the time Vigil finishes.

  Before leaving, I try to be seen by as many of the villagers as I can without drawing attention to myself. Taren waits by the door.

  “The things that cleric implies…” Taren mutters as we leave.

  He wants to go hunting. I don’t draw comfort from the wild like Taren does, but I’m not sure solitude will be sufficient today, so I accept the invitation.

  In the weeks that follow, our after-Vigil hunts become regular. Taren blows off steam, and I’m not left alone with my thoughts. Despite my effort to pay no attention to his sermons, I hear some of his words. They hurt more than I let on.

  It’s not until near winter’s end that something changes.

  ~~~

  I sit in the back pew with Taren like every other Vigil. The candles are prepared and lit, and I [Leech Grip] moss to keep steady.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Usually, when Edrine begins his sermons, he walks up to the head of the pews and stands behind his wooden lectern. But this time, he remains near the candles, watching them longer than normal. The congregation grows unnaturally quiet.

  “I’ve thought a great deal about our village since the howler attack weeks ago,” Edrine says, then paces before the pews. “Mother Life has granted us gifts to help combat evil, to carry light day and night amongst her people.”

  He reaches a cabinet where I’ve seen him store extra candles. Edrine’s hand disappears inside, then returns with a large goblet, triple the size of what a normal person would drink from.

  “I have prepared for us a reminder of who we are. Without our blessed [Skills], the evil of the world would consume us.” He walks to the side of the first pew, where Dargan sits with his family, five pews in front of Taren and me.

  Dargan hesitates before reaching out to take hold of the goblet Edrine proffers him.

  “In this cup is a concoction that will rejuvenate you all,” Edrine continues. “May it prove to your fellow villagers your strength in following the light.”

  He glances up at me, face passive. The coals of his eyes burn as they lock onto mine.

  Dargan holds the goblet in his hands for a moment, looking from it to Edrine, to his family, then back to the concoction. He must have faith in Edrine because he takes a sip.

  Everyone in the chapel leans forward to watch the blacksmith.

  Dargan’s eyes widen and he grins. He quickly turns to his wife and pushes the goblet into her hands.

  Each in the village takes their turn with only a single sip, then alight with some kind of fire in their eyes. Taren watches each person drink, ?glancing at me multiple times as the goblet travels down our side of the chapel. It will reach me first.

  When Raimi turns to pass the goblet back to me, her eyes are warmer towards me than they have been in days. I reach for the drink, but Taren takes it from me.

  A few people murmur at this, but Taren ignores them. He stares into the goblet for a moment, then closes his eyes and takes a sip.

  In a second, he intakes a sharp breath and opens his eyes, which are now glowing gold. His whole body glows. He peers down at the drink, then at me, then shrugs and hands it over.

  I don’t hesitate. I can’t show weakness in holy things.

  I tip the goblet and sip a small amount, letting a few drops slide down my lips to show I had some. When I turn to hand the goblet past Taren to the next villager, I see Edrine watching me.

  I don’t feel any different at first. But as I’m reaching out with the goblet. Something hits me like a boulder. My arm trembles and I almost drop the goblet. Taren catches my arm and helps with the transfer.

  Something’s wrong with me. I can suddenly hear pulsing decay pounding in my ears, but I can’t make out the source. I spin my head each way, feeling like I’m underwater. Everyone else smiles at one another. Taren’s eyes still glow as he looks at me with concern.

  The booming of decay narrows as I focus on it: a spot of mold on the edge of one pew, a patch of mulch two buildings away. I feel so hyper-focused and overextended at the same time.

  [Detect Decay] has reached Level 6.

  The goblet continues to travel around the large room, working its way back up the other pews to Edrine.

  Something else starts with me. I can feel my mana fluctuating, dropping and filling sporadically.

  Nox clicks, sending gibberish to my mind. I feel him climb down my back and into my leg pocket. He vibrates like a leaf in the wind.

  Then a woman screams. It comes from Raimi’s mother. Raimi also tenses up beside her.

  The entire village spins in their seats to look.

  Another child begins to cry.

  I sense it then, an aura that seems to flicker in the back of my mind. [Chilling Presence] is somehow active.

  I end it, and the cries stop. Whimpers still emanate from Raimi’s pew.

  I’m not sure how it happened, or what’s wrong with me.

  Then I feel the aura building and stop it again. It’s like a pressure building in me, like extra vitality that I must release, but tied to my [Chilling Presence].

  Ferlon comes over to check on Orlen and his family. I glance at the shepherd, and the man suddenly collapses. He grasps ?his leg. I look away. I sense the [Skills] activating now. That was [Pulse Sever]. I have no control. I’m turning into a monster.

  [Chilling Presence] still battles for control within me. I grit my teeth and tighten my will upon the [Skill]---it will not control me.

  Taren must sense my struggle because he reaches out and grabs my shoulder. “Sevorn,” he whispers. “You alright—”

  He gasps and withdraws his hand as if I were fire. I feel powerful vitality fill me from his touch. My [Leech Grip] tugs at my hands, unconsciously pushing me towards living things.

  [Leech Grip] has reached Level 8.

  I need to flee. I want to escape this madness. I’ve become the demon they’ve all feared.

  Then, when I feel [Chilling Presence] about to burst from me and consume the entire chapel in fear, everything subsides.

  The tension leaves my body. Nox climbs back up to my shoulder, his worry pushing into my mind.

  At the same moment, the glow from Taren fades, giving me a clue to this insanity.

  I slump in my seat until Vigil concludes. Taren has to nudge me three times before I realize it ends.