— Faelyn Sylsalor, “Demons and Their Curses: Volume 1,” page 198
As the moon rose, the Midnight Blossoms began to bloom.
The pale light reflected through the massive openings in the ceiling of the cavern and reflected off the various crystals to cast a calming aura. However, it clashed with the thick veil of fog spreading out from the flower fields. The mist wasn’t thick, but with the moonlight reflecting through it, it certainly made things a lot more difficult to make out.
Emily pulled her cloak tighter around herself as she navigated through it. She could barely see more than a few feet in front of her, and with how quiet everything was, it left her feeling on edge. An hour ago, they had finished evacuating the town through Mina’s stagecoach. She hadn’t been particularly happy having so many people walk through her home, but there wasn’t much she could do. For now, the people of Serenity Gardens were lingering on the outskirts of Mina’s house, waiting patiently. Lord Elric Dainford hadn’t been too pleased when he came to investigate why so many people were suddenly crowding his town, and from what Emily heard, Mina had argued with him for some time before he relented.
She, meanwhile, had spent all her time in the kitchen, trying to finish making the Dreamweaver Dust. She carried a vial of it tightly in one hand, while she guided a line of floating candles behind her like ducklings.
She reached the cottage Henrik had directed her to. It was on the outskirts of Serenity Gardens, in a much more open section of the cavern. There weren’t many other cottages nearby, and the open space gave them plenty of room to fight. And it was furthest away from the apparent three roads leading into Serenity Gardens. All those routes had been secured with knights, while a few were stationed near the openings in the ceiling of the cavern just in case. They had all been given oil to coat their blades in and lighters to ignite them.
Henrik stood just outside the door, clad in his full armor, and with his halberd planted firmly into the dirt beside him. Beside him was Karaline. She was more dressed for the occasion, with padded leather armor under her worn brown jacket. Her hair was done up, and she carried a longsword, which was resting against the doorframe within easy reach. They had been talking quietly to each other when Emily approached, and she only caught the tail end of their conversation.
“It is a great deal to take in…” Henrik muttered.
“And that’s only half of it. I’m tellin’ ya, this shit ain’t pretty.” She glanced up as Emily emerged from the fog. “Ah, there you are, lass.”
Emily lifted the vial of Dreamweaver Dust. “Would have been faster if I had help grinding all the ingredients.”
Karaline raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t use magic?”
“Mina doesn’t want me to use magic because splitting my focus is tricky. I can’t ensure the right consistency for each ingredient.”
Karaline stared for a moment, then gave a small shrug. “Gotta side with her on that one.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Emily rolled her eyes. “But hey, it’s done! Only cost me a blister.”
“A small price to pay,” Henrik noted. “Go inside. Mina and Violet are preparing the child’s quarters.”
Emily nodded, but before stepping in, she glanced between the two of them. “What about you two?”
“We are to stand guard in case the sandman attempts to flee. You are the first line of defence, and we, the second.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“So do I, but Mina has warned me that it is a possibility. With my knights positioned at every exit, we will ensure this creature does not escape.”
“We aren’t hurting it until we save Kasia’s soul, though,” Emily said. “I promise you that.”
Henrik nodded, then gestured for Emily to go inside.
The air was noticeably colder than outside, like winter had just crept in. There was no stove, no central heating, just an empty, open hearth. The furniture was simple, rustic, yet well-crafted, but it lacked the warmth of a lived-in space. No washroom. No gas lamps. Just dull candles.
Emily grumbled. If she had known there would be candles here, she wouldn’t have wasted time running down to the general goods store in Cresthill to acquire some. Regardless, she had them, so she might as well use them.
Mina was waiting in the doorframe of what Emily assumed was the child’s bedroom, a cigarette pinched between her fingers. She took a slow drag, and when she saw Emily, she lifted her chin. “It’s done?”
Emily nodded and tossed the vial toward her.
Mina caught it and held it up to inspect the dust inside. “Good.” She stubbed out the cigarette and tucked it into her coat pocket before shrugging the heavy garment off entirely.
Emily commanded the floating candles and watched as they drifted into the room. They arranged themselves into a perfect circle on the hardwood floor. “So… what are we doing, exactly?” Emily then asked. “I mean, I get what we’re doing, but I still don’t understand how we’re doing it.”
Mina gestured across the room to where Violet was sitting. Emily hadn’t noticed her at first, but she was on the edge of the bed, cradling a wooden marionette in her arms. She wore padded leather over her usual dark purple dress, as well as reinforced bracers and shin guards. The skull mask she chose to wear this night was bleached white and stood out so starkly from the dimly lit room that Emily almost thought it was glowing. Through the eye holes, Violet’s shimmering purple eyes looked Emily over.
A notebook and pen flew out from beneath Violet’s cloak. One of the candles lifted into the air and drifted closer. Mina snapped her fingers, causing it to light, and cast a glow against the page.
‘Perhaps it is best if I were to explain myself.’ The pen paused, then continued. ‘Emily, I have not been wholly truthful as to my practices. I have spent many years studying the art of telekinesis, yes, but I have spent longer on the study of souls.’ Violet held up the doll proudly. She made a gesture with her fingers, and the doll suddenly jerked forward. Its body went limp again in her grasp before its limbs lifted like it were being pulled by strings.
For a moment, Emily thought Violet was controlling the doll, but the longer she looked, the more she realized it was moving on its own. Whenever Violet conducted dolls or mannequins, she was using all of her fingers. But right now, her hands were motionless, and the doll was twitching like it was trying to learn how to move.
“You’re not doing that on your own, are you?” Emily asked.
‘This doll is merely a vacant vessel for a tortured soul. In this case, a child’s soul, one that Mina was unsuccessful in saving some time ago.’
Emily turned to Mina instinctively.
Mina sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “It was before I found you in Peccatum,” she muttered. “The kid was lured in by a harpy’s song. There was nothing I could do when I eventually found him.”
‘Mina brought me to the child’s body so that I might bind its spirit to this vessel. Through my care, I ensure it will pass peacefully into the afterlife, rather than returning as a vengeful spirit. Now, in our case, putting another child’s life on the line, especially on something as dangerous as luring a monster, would be callous and—The pen ran out of room. The notebook flipped to a new page, and the pen continued. ‘— irresponsible. But the creature is drawn to the innocence of a child’s soul. So, in place of a living subject, we will use this one. My hope is that by aiding us in saving another child, this spirit may find peace in its actions and move on peacefully.’
Emily stared at her. It wasn’t at all what she had expected. Though looking at Violet now, the pieces clicked into place. The dolls. Her fixation on the dead. Her bone-carved mask. “So… you’re… a necromancer?”
Violet’s eyes shimmered through the sockets of her mask.
Mina shifted. “You’re due an explanation,” she admitted. “But not now. We need to prepare.”
“And you knew, and never told me?”
“It wasn’t for you to know.”
“What, I’m just supposed to brush past the fact that she’s—”
“For now? Yes.” Mina said firmly.
‘I apologize if this revelation is unsettling. What I do is frowned upon. But I do not intend to stop my work. I seek only to guide lost souls to their proper rest. A select few know of my intentions and my work, and I would prefer to keep it that way. I ask that you, too, keep my secret.’
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Emily hesitated, looking between Mina and Violet. Necromancy. Of all the things she might have guessed about Violet, that had never been one of them. How long had she been doing this? If the soul inside that doll was from before she had even met Mina, then how many others had there been? How did she even learn something like this? Were all of her dolls possessed? There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but she knew Mina wasn’t going to let her. Not here and now. So, all she could do for now was accept it and wait for answers later. “Alright,” Emily said at last. “I can keep a secret.”
Violet tilted her head slightly, then smiled. ‘I sincerely thank you.’ With that, she tucked the doll beneath the blankets of the child’s bed. She smoothed the sheets over it with the gentle care a mother would when putting a child to bed.
Mina, meanwhile, knelt by the bedside, taking the vial of Dreamweaver Dust and tapping some into her palm. She sprinkled it lightly over the doll’s tiny frame, then walked the perimeter of the candlelit circle, letting the powder fall in a measured line. She traced several symbols with the dust, none of which Emily recognized.
“The Sandman will sense us if we remain here,” Mina explained. “We need to hide in the parents’ room across the hall.”
Emily glanced at the open doorway. “Won’t it notice the doors are open?”
“It doesn’t think like we do. It will only be aware of what it feels around it.”
Violet nodded in agreement.
“Once it materializes, you need to light the candles from afar, Emily. That will activate the protective circle and trap it. But that barrier won’t hold for long.”
“How long are we talking?”
“A minute.”
“And in that time, we extract Kasia’s soul?”
“Violet will. And once that is done, you and I go in for the kill.” She looked at Emily. “You remember the spell?”
Emily nodded and pulled a dagger from her boot. She pressed her fingers along the blade, and fire swirled around it.
“Good,” Mina said. “It will take a lot of effort to wear the Sandman down. It’ll continue regenerating itself until nothing of its body remains.”
With how small the house was, there would be no room for swinging swords, even with shorter blades. They would have to stick to daggers. A chill traveled down Emily’s spine at the thought. She would have to get up close and personal with the monster. She didn’t know if it was the plan or the room itself, but something felt wrong. She trusted Mina, though. If this is what she had done before, then it was bound to work again.
All she could do now was wait.
It was after midnight that the boredom finally set in.
Even after countless instances of training long into the night, Emily found it no less difficult to stay awake. Of course, she was more active those nights, running through sequences and exercises. It wasn’t like now, where all she could do was wait for the sandman to show up. For two hours, she had been sitting against the wall, occasionally peeking into the child’s bedroom. Mina lingered by the doorframe while Violet had fallen asleep on the parents’ bed a while ago, using her cloak as a blanket. Without the purple shimmer of her eyes, the shadows left the holes in her skull mask vacant, like an endless abyss.
The silence was heavy, broken only by the soft creak of the house settling and the occasional snippets of conversation Emily could catch from Karaline and Henrik outside. The only illumination came from the windows, casting pale moonlight into the bedrooms and hallway. Emily’s eyes had adjusted by now, but it was still just dark enough to obscure any finer details. Would she even be able to see the Sandman when he finally shows up? Left alone with her thoughts, her mind kept looping back to the same questions: What if it never shows? What if the trap doesn’t work? What if she couldn’t keep up with it? Emily glanced nervously at the sleeping Violet, then back at Mina. They were counting on her. She needed to do this. But why was it taking so long?
“You alright?”
Emily jolted slightly. She looked up to find Mina watching her. “Oh. Um, yeah. I’m fine.”
Mina raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”
Emily opened her mouth, then hesitated. She looked down. Her leg was bouncing uncontrollably. She forced it to stop, pressing her palm against her knee.
“You’re nervous.”
Emily didn’t answer.
Mina tilted her head slightly. “Em.”
She sighed. “I just—” She hesitated again, staring at the floorboards. “I don’t want this to go like last time.”
“Last time?”
“With the Sangrevoros.”
“Nothing went wrong with the Sangrevoros. You just made a mistake.”
“And I don’t want it to happen again. What if something goes wrong and I’m not ready for it?”
Mina studied Emily for a long while, then walked toward where she had left her coat. She reached into the inner pocket and pulled out her cigarette carton. She popped it open, pulled one out, and then held it toward Emily. “Here.”
Emily blinked. “What?”
“It’ll help steady your nerves.”
She hesitated before taking it. The cigarette felt light between her fingers, like she could snap it easily. With a snap of Mina’s fingers, the tip lit, and Emily stared at the glowing embers. She had seen Mina smoke them constantly, but she had never tried one herself. Her mother and father had always been against it, even though most other people in Pillio’s Watch smoked. Well. Now was as good a time as any. She brought it to her lips and inhaled tentatively. As she drew the smoke into her mouth, her lips tingled from the heat. It was bitter, and a wave of dryness swept through her mouth. When she pulled the smoke down into her lungs, she coughed violently. Her throat burned, and her chest was tight like she had swallowed a lump of hot coal.
Violet sat up, blinking as she watched her.
Mina chuckled. “You okay?”
Emily pounded her chest as the acrid taste of smoke lingered in her mouth. “Never better,” she wheezed.
“Keep going,” Mina said with a smirk, returning to her place by the doorframe. “You’ll get used to it.”
Emily shot her a look, but she took another drag anyway. It wasn’t as bad the second time. The heat still scraped the inside of her throat, but it wasn’t unbearable. She glanced back at Mina, watching as the moonlight spilled in through the window beside her. It reflected off her white hair and her skin, giving it an almost ethereal glow. Even with all her scars, she almost looked beautiful standing there. Emily had heard what people said about her. It was hard not to when living in Cresthill. Everyone had an opinion about Mina, from the priest to the baker. They all used the same word, though. Monster. But she didn’t look like one. She just looked like a woman with scars.
“Hey, Mina…”
Mina’s gaze remained fixed on the doorway. “Hm?”
Emily exhaled a slow stream of smoke, staring at the ember at the tip of her cigarette. “When we do this—when we save this kid—do you think these people will finally change their minds about you?”
Mina turned her head slightly, silver eyes glinting in the dark. “No.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
Emily frowned. “I was just wondering. Trying to keep my mind off things.”
“Prejudice is a hard thing to break, Em. Vampires have terrorized humanity for centuries. They take what they want, they kill and rape without remorse. To most people, a vampire walking into town is the same as a wolf stepping into a flock of sheep. They pray it keeps moving. But if it doesn’t, they either fight or hide.”
“But they don’t always know, right?” Emily argued, sitting up straighter. “I mean, sure, fangs are a dead giveaway, but those are retractable. You have silver eyes, but you can hide them behind tinted lenses. People can be pale for all kinds of reasons. It’s not like someone can just look at you and know.”
“Most people can’t,” Mina admitted. “They’re ignorant. They still believe in old superstitions, thinking we can’t enter a home uninvited, and that garlic wards us off. It’s ignorance that’s letting us exist right under their noses. Most of them will never know when they’re speaking to a vampire… not until it’s too late.”
Emily frowned. “But not all of you are killers, right?”
Mina didn’t answer, not at first. She silently shifted her stance, fully turning to face Emily. “It’s not an easy thing to resist. Bloodlust is a powerful thing. It makes even the kindest souls violent.”
“But not every vampire gives in to their bloodlust. You don’t. You live among regular people. You protect them. And yet they’re still afraid of you.”
“Fear doesn’t need logic. It just needs a good enough reason to exist.”
Emily took another drag. “It’s just stupid. When you sent me out for groceries a while back, I heard some of the women in the market talking about you. They still think you’re a monster.”
“I am a monster.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I? You say I’m not like the ones we hunt. But the people in this town? They see me exactly the same. And they always will.”
“Even after all you’ve done for them? I don’t get why they can’t just look past it and see you for who you really are.”
“Because it’s easier for them to see me as a monster than to confront their own fears and prejudices. People cling to the stories they were raised on. The beliefs they grew up with. I could save every last one of them, and they’d still look at me and wonder when I’d turn on them. Because that’s what monsters do.” She paused, her voice softening. “I’ve accepted that. I can’t change everyone’s mind. But I know who I am. And I won’t let their fear dictate my actions. I protect people because it’s the right thing to do, not because I expect their thanks.”
Emily flicked ash from her cigarette, like how she had seen Mina do, and watched it scatter against the wooden floorboards. Her gaze flickered to Violet, still curled up in her cloak, her breathing steady. “I suppose so,” she muttered.
Suddenly, the house groaned. It was a long, aching creak that crawled through the wooden beams, as if the very foundation of the house had shifted.
Emily froze. Her breath fogged.
There was a faint skittering sound, like something dry being dragged across the floor. Not quite solid, too light to be a rat or an insect.
Mina stiffened beside her.
Emily felt it before she saw it.
Grains of sand trickled in through the cracks in the walls, the gaps beneath the doors, seeping in as though the house itself was bleeding. They glided smoothly across the floorboards, as though they were being carried by the wind. The sand pooled in the center of the child’s bedroom.
Emily’s breath caught in her throat.
Mina moved quickly, nudging Violet awake without a word. The girl stirred, blinking behind her skull mask, but her eyes snapped open the moment she saw the sand.
The grains congealed into a thick column, reaching toward the ceiling. Then, it began to sprout limbs that were impossibly long and unnaturally jointed. Though they were formed of sand, they twisted and cracked like brittle bones. Talons unfurled at the ends.
Emily’s heart hammered in her chest. Not even the illustrations in the bestiary prepared her for what the monster would look like.
A misty cloak took form over the creature’s naked body, not fabric, but a dark, undulating mass that shrouded it. It billowed as if underwater, shifting with every unseen current. A sharp, hooked beak jutted forward as the creature’s face took shape. It had no eyes, just two black voids. The beak clicked open, revealing a serpentine tongue, long and slick and wet. It slithered from its maw, tasting the air, savoring the scent of the Dreamweaver Dust that coated the room. A low, rattling hiss escaped its mouth, like wind howling through a dying forest.
Emily stared at the creature. There was no way it was made of sand. It was too real, too tangible. The surface of its body seemed to pulse with life, dark veins bulging beneath a skin that shouldn’t exist. Its flesh, if that’s what it was, gleamed sickly in the dim moonlight.
It didn’t matter. The time had come.
The Sandman had arrived.
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