Chapter Six

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Shadow wisps retreated into the darkness as the alley appeared around me once more. I never thought I would become so acquainted with the narrow space between two shops — where broken glass from beer bottles was scattered and posters of the past had been torn and forgotten about — but now I was a regular visitor.

Making sure nobody was watching me, I grazed my fingers over the bricks of each wall, searching for any sign that they had been tampered with. I didn't know how the way back to the sparring room was going to work, but I hoped it wasn't confusing or difficult to find. The mere thought of the climb back up to the ruins made my legs ache.

My thorough combing only found loose stones and a growing colony of ants. Fenik must not have inputted anything yet, especially since he had to quickly rush off so suddenly. Was there a new lead that he was being informed about? Did the God of Death need him for something? Hopefully I would find out when I next saw him.

As I left the alley and began heading back to the convent, the early afternoon sun reflecting off the windows of shops, the scent of food drifting through the air made my stomach rumble. The thick spices of the breaded crescent buns caught on the back of my throat and made my mouth water. Walking up a hill in search of a Death Assistant really worked up an appetite.

A man at the stall selling them waved in my direction while another served a bun — the crimson crumbs falling to the ground as he placed it in a napkin — urging me to come and buy one, but I couldn't. Being a worshipper of the Goddess of Life meant I gave up my previous life, and that included all the luxuries that came with it. Members of the convent only accepted gifts from people instead of giving in to the temptation of owing too many things. Our lives were dedicated to warding off the darkness of the kingdom and keeping the Goddess spirit alive, nothing more.

With an apologetic smile and a wave back, I hurried down the street until another scent caught my attention. A sweet mango filled my senses but it didn't come from a stall of fruit, this smell came from a perfume. I stopped outside of a shop that burst with colour and had the words 'Velux Emporium' painted onto the front in elegant cursive. It was a branch of the infamous perfumery in the Kingdom of Yuris.

Inside, a whirlwind of orange swept a woman off her feet and sent papers flying through the air. She laughed and winced at the same time, rubbing her back where she landed on the floor.

"Out of my way!" An inhumane growl thundered beside me from a cloaked figure. He barged past a group of people admiring a dress in a window, pushing them to clear his path. The black hood they wore was an attempt to hide their appearance, but I could still make out the wholly dark eyes and deep veins lurking underneath.

They were the exact same features that Fenik bore.

Was he another Death Assistant? I frowned, it didn't seem like it. An assistant to the God of Death wouldn't walk down a street when they could appear anywhere they wanted at will with the help of their shadows. If he didn't work alongside Fenik, who was he?

Waiting for him to rush ahead, I followed close behind him, curious about what had him in such a foul mood. He headed for the outskirts of the kingdom's capital, turning down a road where houses had long since been forsaken by their owners. Wooden panels were nailed across doors and windows to keep out unwanted guests, chunks of buildings were missing as if they had been torn away in fights, and spider webs clung to every surface.

I was sure Razie would have enjoyed the area.

The man slowed to a stop outside one of the old houses and another stepped out to greet him. Ducking behind a corner, my breath caught in my chest. The noble that walked down the steps, smiling at the faux Death Assistant, was one of the Lords of the Kingdom of Wrosite. He was favoured by the king, claiming a seat on the council to help guide the royals on the trickier challenges they faced. Lord Roperos had even danced with me at the last Harmony Ball.

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