June Short Story [Mystery Disappearances]

Hey peeps!

This story got super long. I tried to cut it down a bit, lol. It's about twice as long as the others, still. 

And it deals with the first abyssal leech arcanist!

Hopefully you all enjoy.

Mystery Disappearances

Frith Chronicles Tale

For years, the small town of Farstone has reported mysterious disappearances. Children vanishing in the night. Vagabonds never to be seen again. And also, strangely, trinkets and artifacts gone forever. And not normal trinkets or artifacts—the kind worn by individuals to help them in their daily life—but objects that should be impossible to steal.

The town’s celestial clock—one powered by the magic of mystical creatures—disappeared from the town square. It was the size of a large shed, yet it just vanished in the middle of the night without a trace.

No witnesses.

No drag marks.

Some dust was at the location, according to the letters, but nothing had been set ablaze.

The governor of Farstone had contacted the Frith Guild multiple times regarding these disappearances. Each letter he wrote was more panicked than the last. This time, it was his daughter who had gone missing. He offered to give the guild a whole year’s worth of taxes just to have a couple arcanists come out and handle the matter.

Guildmaster Eventide didn’t accept the summons because of the coin. It wasn’t even that much—Farstone was a tiny haven on the edge of a swampy island. They had no more than 8,000 people living there. It was better for them to keep their coin.

No. Eventide wanted us to investigate because the disappearances were becoming more frequent.

Which was why she sent me and Gregory Ruma to handle the matter.

Well, and also a team of magical researchers from Skarn University and Ellios. They were interested most in the disappearances of trinkets and artifacts since they were normally much harder to destroy than a normal object. Things imbued with magic didn’t break apart as easily as mundane components, so these bizarre scholars wanted to snoop around town.

Ruma didn’t like them, and neither did I. They weren’t here for the missing individuals—the kids and all the others—these researchers just wanted to further their magical knowledge in an almost callous and detached way.

Nothing fuels magical knowledge like destruction, apparently.

Guildmaster Eventide had told us to ignore them.

“Everett, you’re the only one I trust to handle this in a timely manner,” she had said. “Don’t bother with the researchers. Just stay focused.”

I suspected she also knew I enjoyed spending time adventuring with Ruma. The man was a force of nature whenever he used his leviathan magic. Piece of me hoped some sort of blackheart was behind all this, that way I could see him be torn asunder.

Which was why I was excited as we walked around this dinky town.

Gregory Ruma walked with purpose. The man held himself like an old-world hero brought to life. The townspeople of Farstone took note. They glanced his way, waving whenever he glanced their way, and a couple of kids even followed us around. The ankle biters thought they were stealthy as they stumbled from one alleyway to the next, hiding half their body behind empty barrels.

“This island seems dour,” Ruma said, drawing my attention back to him.

I shrugged. “I hear they get rain half the year, and fog for the other six months. I’d get dour, too.”

The fog lingered over the piers, occasionally wafting down the streets of the town. It was an ocean fog, the kind that smelled of fish and salt.

The brick buildings were all built up on a sturdy foundation. It was likely to prevent flooding and made everything around us seem tall. The brick walkways had been in a utilitarian fashion. No design. No flair. The bricks themselves had been in a hasty, almost sloppy, manner.

Like no one cared.

The waves around the docks swelled. Ruma’s leviathan, Decimus, waited for us in the water. The gargantuan beast was typically easy to spot, but the fog made it difficult. All I could make out was the rise and fall of the ocean as Decimus snaked his serpentine body around the island.

Leviathans were among the most powerful creatures to dwell in the ocean. They didn’t like coming onto land, even if they could, and it was obvious why. Decimus would crush this whole town in a matter of minutes if he rolled his scaled body up here.

My mimic walked along the roofs next to us, her gray coat blending in with the fog. Her feline body, agile and silent, was almost impossible to spot. It was only when she glanced down at me with her pink and tan colored eyes that I was able to pinpoint her location.

“See anything out of the ordinary?” Ruma asked as he grabbed the rim of his tricorn cap. He had the appearance of a swashbuckler, through and through. He even had a sword hanging from his belt. “Not much here to investigate. Shall we inspect everyone’s pantry and basement? Where else would we find anything?”

The two kids following us accidentally knocked over an empty barrel. They tumbled over themselves as they slammed forward, both practically planting their faces into the bricks.

“Whoa, whoa!” one of them yelled.

They were two little boys, perhaps ages eight and ten. They wore long pants and tunics, and I wondered if they were students. Given the size of the town, they might’ve been the only students.

“Everything okay?” Ruma called to them.

“Oh, fiddlesticks.” The first scrambled to his feet and darted back into a nearby alleyway.

The other hid his face—like he needed to protect his identity, lest he get in trouble—and followed his friend. The two kids just huffed and puffed in the alleyway, though. Not the epic escape I think they envisioned in their head.

“Think I should manipulate the weather a bit?” Ruma asked as he stroked his chin. “That might cheer everyone up.”

“I think finding the missing people and magical items would make them a bit happier,” I quipped.

“You’re always so sardonic, Everett. Sometimes a bit of hope can go a long way.”

“Again—find the missing people and magical items would probably bring a lot of hope.”

Ruma shot me a sideways glance. Then he half-smiled. “I’m all ears. Liet thought you would find these missing individuals in no time.”

She had said that.

I glanced around the dull town, staring at the gray exteriors of the buildings, and the dark bricks of the road. It was like Farstone was dressed for a funeral.

“If the culprit is an arcanist, I’ll be able to sense their eldrin,” I muttered.

The town of Farstone had exactly one arcanist—an ancient woman by the name of Marloodul. She didn’t really look her age. She even appeared younger than Liet. But the woman’s mannerisms and name… They told she had been around for hundreds of years. And I seriously doubt she was behind the attacks, but her eldrin was a caladrius, a special white bird capable of great healing.

And nothing else.

I had never even heard of a caladrius arcanist becoming violent—the mystical birds tended to bond with the gentlest of hearts.

Marloodul wasn’t a suspect in my mind.

“Let’s ask the kids to show us around the island,” I said as I crossed my arms. “Maybe there’s a fishing dock or something we’re missing.”

“Why the kids? Surely, we can ask an adult.”

“Anyone in town could be a suspect.” I snorted a laugh. “I don’t know or trust a single person here. But the kids… I’m certain they’re not to blame. So, if they lead us around, I’ll be confident we aren’t being led astray.”

Ruma nodded once in acknowledgment. Then he sauntered over to the alleyway, his long coat flowing in the misty winds. When the two boys spotted him, their gasps rang out into the street.

“Hello there,” Ruma called out to the alleyway. “I’m looking for some guides around the island. Would you young fellows be interested?”

The two boys scurried out of the alleyway and crowded around close to Ruma. They beamed up, each smiling wide.

“We can totally show you around,” one boy said.

The younger boy jumped up and down. “We know everywhere!”

Ruma’s easygoing smile and charismatic demeanor won the kids over in an instant. “Thank you, gentlemen. I’d much appreciate it.”

The two boys bowed their heads and then took off down the road. They waved their arms, indicating we should follow them. When a woman attempted to cross the street with a basket of washed clothing, the boys held up their hands and blocked her path.

“Make way,” one said. “We’re escorting the arcanists! This is official business.”

“Official business,” the younger boy repeated.

The woman rolled her eyes as we all walked past. I gave her a quick and apologetic glance. She blushed and turned away, though I wasn’t sure what she had to be embarrassed about.

Ruma stuck close to me, his gaze hardened as the two boys headed straight for the small road out of town. Farstone was the only real civilization here, but perhaps a woodcutter or candlemaker was outside of the city walls.

We had to look everywhere. It was an island, after all. Whoever was making things disappear couldn’t be too far.

***

Ruma and I easily kept the pace of the energetic kids. They pointed to every tree and every rock as though it were a landmark we needed to know about. I tuned most of their explanations out and focused on my mimic magic. My eldrin, Traces, hated our swampy surroundings, so she leapt onto my shoulder and purred into my ear the entire trek.

“So much fog,” she whispered. “No wonder people and things go missing so easily. Who could find them in this weather?”

“We’ll find them,” Ruma stated, heat in his words.

The man never knew defeat. It was one of the many traits I admired about him.

The two boys—I never figured out their names—ran ahead of us. The road was nothing more than a few stones pushed together. It kept our boots out of the mud, but that was it.

“And this is the tree where my dad broke his arm,” one of the boys shouted as he pointed to an old mangrove tree. “It’s big! Probably the biggest one ever.”

“Very majestic,” Ruma said with a laugh.

I knew he was just humoring the kid, but that fact never tainted his words or speech. Ruma didn’t sound bored—even if he was—he had the etiquette and social graces to effortlessly feign interest in anything.

“Pay attention,” Traces whispered directly in my ear.

I swatted her away. “I’m focusing on my detection magic. If there’s a mystical creature or arcanist nearby, I’ll detect it.”

“You’re focusing a lot on Ruma, too.” Trace narrowed her feline eyes at me.

I swept my hair back, trying to craft an excuse for my idle musings. “I don’t want to be impolite.”

“What was that?” Ruma asked.

“Oh, nothing.” But then I sensed something. I stopped walking, my legs locking up as I was overcome with a powerful sensation. “There’s a fully grown mystical creature here.”

Ruma stopped and turned to face me.

The two boys didn’t notice. They continued to hop along the path, pointing to trees. The fog became a curtain between us. I lost sight of them. Only the sounds of their energetic descriptions could be heard.

“It’s a relickeeper,” I said with a sigh. “Nevermind… False alarm. It must be one of the researchers.”

“Theasin Venrover,” Ruma said as he stroked his chin. “He was the only arcanist that traveled with us who was bonded to such a strange beast.”

I crossed my arms. “I thought we told the researchers to wait in town.”

“We did.” Ruma motioned to the swamplands around us. “Perhaps Theasin got lost. Or he was targeted by our kidnapper.”

I scratched Traces on the head. “Go get the kids,” I said. “Tell them to return to Farstone. Ruma and I are going to find Theasin and his relickeeper.”

My eldrin nodded and purred. “As you wish, my arcanist.” She leapt from my shoulder, landed softly on the ground, and hurried for the two boys.

I wasn’t worried about them. Trace could protect them, if there was any trouble. It was Theasin who I feared for. He was a noteworthy scholar—and a talented arcanist—but I suspected he didn’t know the first thing about combat. Ruma and I would have to protect him.

“This way,” I said.

Together, Ruma and I headed out into the swamplands. The mud wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. While my boots sank a few inches with each step, it never got so bad that I couldn’t pull my foot up anymore.

My blood ran cold, and I wondered what kind of mystical creature I should have Traces transform into. I couldn’t have her transform into a leviathan. She would crush those two boys in an instant. And I didn’t want a relickeeper—those strange beasts specialized in preserving and identifying things.

A caladrius?

No.

She was too far away.

With a sigh, I decided to stay with my mimic abilities.

The smell of the swamp became more pungent the farther we walked. Dead plant life, and the stench of decay, mixed together to become a potent aroma. I huffed and rubbed at my nose. The fog wasn’t helping either—it felt like two of my five senses were being assaulted.

After a short hike, we came across Theasin.

His silhouette emerged from the fog like a light out at sea. He had a lantern tied to his belt and held a notebook in his hands.

The man was tall. And thin. Gangly, as Ruma liked to put it. He wore fine robes of white and silver, and they complimented his silky black hair. His cold gaze betrayed his unfriendly demeanor, however. He read the notebook with an expression that screamed, I hate this object—and I plan to torture it later.

And he wore tight black gloves over his hands. I had never seen gloves so thin and tight before.

When we approached, Theasin flinched. He turned on his heel to face us, but his foot was stuck in the mud. The man fumbled about and struggled to straighten his posture. After a short moment of ungraceful movements, he regained his footing.

The mark on his forehead was a seven-pointed star with an odd dragon laced between the points. It was a creature made of broken glass, metal, and pottery—the relickeeper.

I didn’t see the actual beast out in the swamp, however.

Had Theasin left it back in town?

“What are the two of you doing here?” Theasin asked with a sneer. “I thought you were investigating the town?”

Ruma clenched his hands into fists. “I told you to investigate the town. Why are you out here?”

“There’s nothing in that town,” Theasin said, his contempt soaked every word. “Our target is out here. Nearby. I’m certain of it.”

“Then you can head back. Everett and I will handle the matter.”

Theasin turned his gaze to me, then to Ruma, and then back to me. His eyes remained narrowed, even as he brushed some of his dark hair over an ear. “Forgive me for speaking frankly, but this isn’t a task suited for sailors or has-beens. This requires knowledge and finesse.”

I stifled a dark chuckle. Then I smirked as I said, “Ruma and I have apprehended several murderous arcanists in the past. I can assure you—sailors and has-beens are perfectly capable of bringing them in.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you fool.” Theasin turned, his boot getting half-caught in the mud again. “This isn’t the work of a murderer. This is the work of a scholar. A methodical scholar. Someone testing something.”

“What do you mean?” Ruma asked before I could interject with an insult.

Theasin stepped forward at a slow rate, hindered by the thickness of the mud. “Haven’t you read the letters penned by the governor? Think about the people. The first person to go missing was an orphaned girl, age four. Then the fisherman’s boy, age six. Then the old drifter man, last seen at the docks. Now a teen girl has gone missing—the governor’s daughter. Each one of these disappearances was an escalation. The weakest was the four-year-old girl. The next weakest, the boy.”

While Theasin spoke, I pieced together the connection as well. The little girl was the weakest. And a little boy, two years her senior? Weak and vulnerable. The old man wasn’t too decrepit, He was likely stronger than the children, but still weaker than a teenage girl. The missing people were being systematically targeted—and not by age or gender, but by apparent health or strength.

“But for what reason?” I asked.

Theasin gritted his teeth. “Clearly, someone wants to test something on living people.”

Ruma and I exchanged concerned glances. When Ruma returned his attention to Theasin, he asked, “How do you know the kidnapper is out in these swamps? Perhaps our culprit is back in town.”

“That wretched hovel of a town is incapable of housing a facility capable of dealing with four bodies. Whoever is doing this needs room. I suspect we’ll find a cave out here—either in the swamp, or along the rocky coastline on the western edge of the island.”

Theasin said every word as though he had given this a great deal of thought. Yet he hadn’t mentioned it once to us—not when we were in town, not on the boat ride over.

He hadn’t been planning to tell us.

“You planned to find this kidnapper all on your own,” I said, smooth and confident. “Why’s that? Didn’t want to share in the glory?”

Theasin stopped and glanced over his shoulder. He stared at me for a prolonged moment before finally commenting, “Yes. That’s exactly what I wanted. The fame.” Then he returned his attention to his trek forward. “But since you’re both here, we must share in the glory. Quickly now. I have a few theories on what we’re dealing with, and I need confirmation.”

Again, Ruma and I glanced at one another. Taking Theasin Venrover, a talented researcher, with us on a dangerous assignment, seemed questionable at best. Then again, the man was undoubtably talented. If Ruma and I hadn’t stumbled upon him, Theasin might have solved this whole damn mystery on his own.

But would the kidnapper have taken Theasin as well? That I was less certain about.

“I’ll protect us,” Ruma finally whispered to me. His confidence never wavered. “Just make sure Theasin doesn’t get too far.”

I half-nodded. “If that’s what you think is best.”

“Perhaps he can help us unravel this mystery. And I’d rather do it sooner. Bickering about who gets to do what won’t get us anything.”

***

We walked for over a mile. The mire all around us hindered our speed. I wished there was some sort of mystical creature with flight nearby, but I sensed nothing. Just leviathan magic and relickeeper magic.

But as the fog thickened, that changed.

I stopped walking.

Ruma and Theasin did the same. They both turned to face me.

“Everett?” Ruma asked.

Theasin’s cold eyes grew larger. He stepped closer to me, smiling. “You sense something, don’t you? Mimic magic is so extraordinary.”

I rubbed my face. I did sense something, but it was unlike anything I had sensed before. It was… odd. Normally, with enough training and focus, I could determine the makeup of the magic. However, nothing topped experience. If I saw a white hart, and sensed its magic, it was much easier for me to identify one in the future, even without seeing it.

But this…

This new creature was something I had never felt before. Ever.

“What is it?” Ruma asked.

Theasin’s smile didn’t wane. “I’ve always admired the mimic’s ability to detect nearby magics. There have been so many instances in which I could’ve used that to great effect…”

I ignored the man.

“I’m going to have Traces transform,” I said.

Ruma nodded once in acknowledgement.

This was risky. What if this creature was gigantic? Would Farstone survive the transformation? I hoped so. This was the fastest way I could identify the creature…

I closed my eyes and willed Traces to change her shape. I didn’t need to give her a verbal command. So long as I was relatively close to her, she could sense my desire to shift. The ambient magic then tethered itself to Traces and allowed her to shift shapes.

My forehead burned as the transformation took place. Within a matter of seconds, I had a new mark.

I grazed my fingers over my forehead. It felt… snake like.

Theasin marched over and knocked my head away. “Let me see. I can identify it.” His gloved hand grazed my skin, his fingers trembling.

I would’ve pushed him away, but his frantic insistence on identification left me a little speechless. And he wasn’t bad looking, even if he resembled a fencepost more than a man. He had a librarian’s charm. Except for his facial expression. That had all the charm of a tax collector.

“I see,” Theasin mumbled as he stepped away from me. His gaze went to the ground, but his smile didn’t leave him. “I suspected as such.”

“What is it?” Ruma demanded.

“I can’t be certain, but I believe we’re dealing with a type of… leech.”

“A leech?” Ruma shuddered. He immediately glanced down to his legs, as though phantom tickles were now bothering him. “Here?”

“We must hurry.” Theasin turned—more comfortable with the swampy terrain—and hurried forward. He seemed much happier than a moment before. Why?

***

It didn’t take us long to find a cave.

Theasin had been right. There was someone hiding out in the fog.

“What kinds of magic does the leech have?” Ruma asked.

I held up my hand. Normally, evocation was used the same way between creatures. All I needed to do was focus my magic flowing through my body, and then leaving it. However, when I tried it now, nothing seemed to happen. No fire, no water, no lightning or poison. My magic flowed through me, but I wasn’t sure what I was creating.

“I’m still not sure,” I said.

Theasin waved his hand. He stood at the entrance to the cave. It was small—more a hole in the ground—but someone had taken the time to carve crude stone steps into the earth.

“This is it,” Theasin said, almost giddy. “Now is the time for your sailors to shine.”

“We’re guild arcanists,” Ruma drawled. “Or you can call us by our names.”

Theasin shook his hand through the air. “Yes, yes. The mighty Ruma and his deceitful assistant.” He shot us a glare. “Was that enough of an introduction? Get moving. History is in the making.”

The man had absolutely no sense of others. I almost laughed. “All right. We’ll handle this for you, since it’s obvious the walk has taken its toll on your weed-physique.”

Theasin recoiled back as though I had slapped him. He sneered as he patted his white robes. The mud had stained the bottom hem. He almost looked like a homeless vagabond himself.

“Stop stalling,” Theasin hissed. Then a cold glint shone across his gaze. “You wouldn’t want those innocent children to suffer any longer, would you?”

Ruma pushed Theasin aside and stormed past him. I did the same, but I also shot Theasin a glare. He hadn’t cared about the kidnap victims until it was convenient for him. What a stand-up guy. Almost made me want to punch him in the gut.

Ruma and I entered the cave and strode down the steps. Whoever lived here had hung lanterns on the stone walls. They weren’t filled with oil—they all held glowstones. The weak light emanating from the glowing rocks was enough for us to see the way.

When we reached the bottom, we came to a wooden door. Whoever was here, was definitely behind it. The sound of metal clicking on rock echoed around the inside. Ruma’s hand shook slightly as he grabbed the iron handle. Then he threw open the door with a dramatic shove, no doubt hoping to catch someone off guard.

It worked.

We entered an underground cavern, one lit with the same glowstones. The yellowish light made everything seem sickly. The walls were brown stone, but in this lighting, appeared like the color of vomit.

The cavern was large enough for ten cots, three tables, and several nullstone cages.

A fat man—so heavy, he could be three people all shoved together into a single outfit—leapt at the sight of us. He stood on the other side of the last table, his eyes wide. They seemed glazed over a bit, as though the man’s eyes were failing him, but hadn’t yet quit.

He wore a bloody apron and a pair of hunting trousers—the kind made of thick leather and reinforced at the knees. The man’s beard covered his chin, but his hair couldn’t do the same with his skull. It was thin enough that he might as well be bald.

“What’s going on here?” Ruma roared.

I glanced around, taken aback by our “company.”

The missing people…

The little girl, boy, old man, and teenager…

They were all dead.

The teenager was the only one still intact. The other three were nothing more than rotting corpses folded into nullstone cages. The teen girl, however, was cut open like a fish and dead on one of the cots. Her insides were exposed, but the blood had died up days ago. Her withered face, drained of fluid, was twisted in horror and pain.

Jars were all around her cot, each with a lid tightly sealed across the top.

“I can explain,” the man said, his voice much squeakier than I suspected. He held up hands scarlet with blood. When he moved around the table, he wiped them onto his dirty apron. “I’m saving them! Don’t you see?”

When the man drew closer, I saw his forehead held an arcanist mark.

It was the same as mine.

The leech.

Ruma stormed forward. He tossed a table out of his path, his boots stomping so hard, the sounds of his steps bounced off the walls. His shoulders trembled with barely restrained rage.

“They’re going extinct,” the man said, his glazed eyes still wide. “I’m saving them!”

Ruma kicked the other table out of his path and then grabbed the man by the strap of his apron. With a powerful jerk forward, Ruma pulled him close. “Explain. Quickly.”

“The abyssal leeches are almost extinct,” the man said, his voice irritating, but never trembling. He didn’t seem afraid of Ruma—he just seemed concerned with explaining himself, as though this were all a big misunderstanding. “I’m saving them! And look, I have so much research.” He pointed to the last table.

Several papers and scrolls were piled about. The horror of the cavern had distracted me from noticing them.

“I figured it all out,” the man said, a bit of pride in his voice. “The abyssal leeches can only reproduce inside of mystical creatures or arcanists.” He pointed to the rotting corpses. “I tried with some younger specimens, and they died. I thought, maybe they’re too young, but even the older gentleman and young woman succumbed to the hunger of the abyssal leeches in their body.”

“In their… body?” Ruma whispered.

His voice…

I hadn’t heard Ruma so icy before.

The man maintained his prideful tone. Was he literally blind? How did he not understand Ruma outrage? Or was the man a hero in his own mind, saving these parasites?

“The abyssal leeches were almost extinct,” the man said, tapping his chest. “But I saved them. Listen to my eldrin!”

The man’s apron squirmed. Something writhed underneath.

Ruma let the man go and took a step back.

The head of a leech emerged from under the apron. But it wasn’t a normal sized beast. It was the size of someone’s arm—thick and tubular, with tiny eyes on the side of its slimy head. Little tentacles, like fins or thin appendages, snaked up out of the apron as well. The creature was glazed in crimson, as though it had been swimming through its arcanist’s body just a few moments prior.

“What is going on?” Ruma asked, breathless.

Theasin finally stepped into the room, his smile more prominent than ever. He clasped his two gloved hands together. “Oh, my. That’s an abyssal leech. Straight from the abyssal hells, no doubt.”

“You know what this is?” I hissed, still rocked by the situation.

“It’s a mystical creature of potent potential.”

The large man held up a hand. “No, listen. I’ve saved them. The abyssal leeches were first born in the abyssal hells, but they’re free now. I just need to find suitable breeding grounds. They’ll—”

“Enough,” Ruma barked. “You did this?” he waved to our surroundings.

“Yes? Of course. I had to.”

“Then that’s all the confession I need.”

Ruma held up a hand and unleashed a bolt of lightning. His leviathan magic was impressive. My hair stood on end from the static that filled the cavern. Even Theasin was disturbed by the attack. A flash of light was our only warning.

But…

Ruma’s lightning never struck its target. Instead, the lightning broke apart in midair, becoming motes of raw magical energy. They floated around the abyssal leech arcanist, like dust seen in the rays of morning sunshine. They danced and shimmered—just raw magic that had been unwoven into something basic.

The abyssal leech arcanist shook his head. “No, this isn’t supposed to happen. I need to get my leeches to safety. I have to get my research to—”

Ruma stepped forward and unleashed another bolt of lightning. It, too, shattered apart into bits of magic that danced through the air. The little globs of magic floated around the abyssal leech arcanist, orbiting at different rates.

“If you’re trying to stop me, you’ll fail!” The man clapped his hands together once and then snapped his fingers.

The raw magic all zoomed together, colliding into one glowing ball of raw energy. Then it shot forward, much like Ruma’s lightning bolt. Ruma and I both leapt out of the way before the crackling energy could strike us. Theasin ran back up the stairs, getting out of dodge.

The raw magic struck one of the toppled tables. It broke apart the wood, splintering it everywhere.

The abyssal leech arcanist…

He had just unwoven and re-woven Ruma’s magic.

“You killed these people!” Ruma shouted.

The man shook his head. “They’re not even arcanists. Mystical creatures are more important.”

Ruma got to his feet.

“Don’t evoke anything,” I said.

Ruma nodded as he pulled his blade. Then he ran for the abyssal leech arcanist. When Ruma lunged, the man reached out with a hand. The sword gut into the man’s gut, but when he touched Ruma’s shoulder, bits of Ruma slowly unspun from his body. His skin became a yarn-light substance that just unraveled and fell to the floor, fleshy pink and red.

Ruma leapt away with a grunt. He grabbed at his bizarre injury, his hand shaky.

“Stay back,” I commanded.

I ran forward, grabbed Ruma’s blade from him, and then dashed at the abyssal leech arcanist. His gut was already bleeding from the stab, but his leech seemed to be doing something under the man’s bulging apron.

I slashed with the sword, cutting the man’s apron, chest, and shoulders. Blood oozed from every injury. He screamed and stumbled backward. When I thrust forever, the man grabbed me.

But his magic…

It didn’t work.

I, too, was an abyssal leech arcanist, and for some reason, that made me immune to the unraveling effect.

I stabbed the man and his leech. They both screeched, their voices mixing together to become a terrible requiem. Then they collapsed to the floor, their bodies twitching.

Even then, in his moment of death, the man seemed confused. Did he think I was the villain for cutting him down? Why would he think these leeches were so important that he could kill whoever he wanted?

With a sigh, I just stood over the body of the man and his leech. For good measure, I stabbed them both. Once certain they were dead, I pried the abyssal leech out of the still-warm body of the man.

The leech… it was as long as a cart. Had it been fully inside the man? What a bizarre mystical creature.

Then again, I heard everything from the abyssal hells was strange and freakish. Even the abyssal dragons were hard to comprehend.

I dropped the monster to the floor. It hit with a splat.

Theasin strode into the cavern room, glanced at the destruction, and then went straight for the back table with the research notes. He wasn’t bothered by the corpse of the teen girl, or the rotting husks in the cages—all he seemed concerned with were the notes. Theasin grabbed them up with greedy hands.

“Abyssal leeches were thought extinct,” he muttered. “Now they’re back? So extraordinary.”

I sighed. “They’re extinct again.”

“Yes…”

Although, I still sensed abyssal leech magic nearby. With heavy breaths, I slowly searched around the room, wondering where this feeling was coming from.

It turned out, human bodies weren’t the only things here.

Dead mystical creatures had been shoved into the back of several nullstone cages. A dead griffin and a unicorn… They had holes in their bodies. Had the man been infesting them, too?

The abyssal leeches ate their magical hosts?

“Ah, here it is,” Theasin said with some delight. “All of our mysteries have been solved. The missing trinkets, the missing artifacts, the many children and elderly…” Theasin held all the paperwork close to his chest. “It’s all explained here. Wonderful news.”

“How is this wonderful?” Ruma hissed. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the dead girl. “We need to bring these bodies back to Farstone.”

“Yes, definitely,” Theasin said. “I need them.”

I shot the man a glare. “Not the leech bodies. The human bodies.”

Theasin dismissively waved a hand. “Yes, yes. We must mourn them. But I need the leech bodies. For more research. And item creation.”

“No,” Ruma said. “All of them should be burned. No mystical creatures from the abyssal hells should be in our world.”

There was a long pause. A silence so thick, I could choke on it. It was in that moment that I realized the cavern smelled of feces and copper. What a terrible combination.

“It’s a waste to burn the bodies,” Theasin stated. “Crafting items from their corpses doesn’t violate anything.”

“There’s a live one around here,” I muttered. “I can sense it.” With my breath held, I wandered over to the girl’s cot. Was her body host to one? No. I didn’t sense it from her. I sensed it from… the jars next to her cot.

There was something alive in one of these jars.

“I think its in this,” I said, pointing to it.

Ruma didn’t look. He just couldn’t glance in my direction—not with the girl there. He was tense and stiff. More than normal.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Just gather up the bodies,” Ruma said.

“And?”

“And we’ll mourn them in Farstone.” With a sigh, Ruma shot Theasin a glare. “You can take the leech bodies, but absolutely under no circumstance can you take anything alive. If I ever find another one of these leeches again, I kill it, and anyone its bonded to. Do you understand me?”

Theasin’s smile returned. “Oh, yes. I understand. I’ll only take the dead ones. Not a single living leech will leave this cavern today.”