I left the warehouse behind. Dawn came gray and cold. The streets lay quiet, the shadows of buildings stretched under the early light. My legs carried me toward the waterfront. Each step felt too loud in the hush of the morning. My jacket clung to my frame, still marked with stains of the night's work. I thought of the vampire I left tied to that metal pole. His muffled cries had faded behind me. I breathed the city air, tasting dust and faint salt from the sea breeze.

I followed the roads that led closer to the river. A few cars passed, headlights off now, drivers half-awake on their way to early shifts. I watched them from the sidewalk. They did not watch me. I kept my hood low, moving like a ghost among the empty shops. A bakery sign blinked in neon, bread shapes in pink. The smell of fresh dough drifted out the vents. My stomach rumbled, but I walked on.

After a time, I saw the skyline brightening across the water. Riverside Lodge stood in the distance, an old place with boarded windows. Its once-grand facade marred by graffiti and rusting fire escapes. That had to be it. The location the vampire told me about. The place where devils or other beasts might gather. I approached from a side street. The morning sun rose behind me, casting long shadows across the ground.

I stepped closer, scanning the lodge. It had a tall, withered front door, half the paint peeled. Broken glass crunched underfoot. A row of boarded windows loomed, silent. No movement. No sign of watchers. I circled around, checking the sides. The structure was big, three or four stories, old stonework chipped away by time. I found no footprints, no signs of life. I guessed it was too early. The vampire had mentioned gatherings at night.

I stood by a rusted gate, eyeing the building. I had hours before dark. No point going inside if nothing was there. So I turned away, deciding I'd wait for the sun to set.

But first, I needed a place to kill time. A place away from curious eyes. My mind flicked to my [Blank] aura; I needed to understand it better. I needed control. I'd nearly killed that vampire with my mere presence. If I tried that in public, I'd cause mayhem. Or were people affected differently? I didn't know. I'd rather not find out the hard way.

So I left the riverside. The city opened up behind me, more traffic now on the roads. People started stepping out, doors slamming, engines revving. I stayed to the backstreets, slipping past an old bus depot. I remembered some patches of woods outside the city proper. I'd gone there with my mother once, for a nature walk. A quiet place with trails. I'd train there, far from prying eyes.

A long walk carried me beyond the suburbs, the roads turning into winding lanes dotted with pine and oak. A faint memory of simpler times. The sun rose higher, warming the asphalt. I found a small gravel path leading into the forest. A sign read "Trail Closed." Good. No visitors. I ducked under the rope, following a faint dirt track through the trees.

Birdsong echoed in the canopy. The ground felt soft with fallen needles. My boots left impressions in the damp earth. I moved deeper, scanning for signs of hikers, seeing none. After ten minutes, I reached a clearing ringed by tall pines. The breeze whispered in their boughs. The light here was dappled, bright patches swaying on the floor.

I set my bag down, the few supplies I'd carried. Then I looked around. No movement. No watchers. Safe enough to test.

I let out a breath, focusing on the aura that lurked inside me. The [Blank] power I'd raised to level four. In the dungeon, I'd toggled it on or off. Simple. But I'd never tried partial or refined control. Now I'd push the boundaries of what I thought I knew.

I closed my eyes. Breathed. Reached inward. Flicked [Blank] on, just a little. The air cooled, color draining from the pine needles. I opened my eyes. A pine tree stood a few yards away, trunk thick and bark rough. I watched. Its needles shifted from green to a dull grayish hue. The trunk itself lost warmth in color, turning pale. The bark flaked, as if moisture fled. Needles drooped, many falling away. The tree's branches cracked with a faint noise.

My aura ate at it. Magic or life force, it made no difference. I inhaled sharply, toggling the aura off.

The color returned, but the damage was done. The tree slumped, half its needles gone. A whiff of decay replaced the fresh forest scent. Around me, a layer of old moss and mushrooms and undergrowth had simply vanished, stripping stone and earth clean.

This was the expected outcome. I came out here to see if I could learn something new. So I tried again, this time imagining a barrier around me, a circle I could shrink. I pictured the aura as a sphere pressing outward from my core. I tried to tighten it, a bubble hugging my skin.

I breathed in, flicked on [Blank]. The pines around me dimmed, but not as drastically. I stepped closer to the battered tree. I watched the bark, waiting. The trunk twitched with a small crack. Leaves near the trunk withered, but the effect seemed contained to a smaller radius, about an arm's length from me.

I exhaled, feeling relief. I'd condensed the aura. The kill-zone shrank. But I sensed it had grown denser too. More potent within that small area. I tested it. I touched the trunk with my palm. The bark splintered at once, turning to dust beneath my hand. The tree groaned, leaning. A jagged line split the wood.

I pulled back, toggling the aura off. The trunk remained cracked, chunks falling away. The tree tottered, then sagged against a neighbor pine. Birds scattered overhead, alarmed by the sudden shift. I let out a breath, flexing my fingers. I'd gained better control. I nodded to myself, satisfied. This was progress.

For hours, I experimented. I found logs, stumps, small bushes. I'd toggle the aura at different intensities, trying to shape how far it extended. Sometimes I'd let it drift out in a large circle, bleaching the forest floor for yards. Leaves withered to dust, the smell of rotting plant matter filling my nose. I'd cringe and turn it off, stepping away from the devastation. Then I'd condense it to a tight sphere around my body, so intense that I felt the hum of power in my bones. I'd watch pine cones crumble to dust in my hands.

At times, I truly wondered just how big a difference it'd be to receive the final [Blank] level.

At midday, the sun overhead felt warm. I retreated to a shady spot, rummaging in my bag for some water and a protein bar. I ate in silence, hearing distant woodpeckers. My thirst sated, I resumed training. Time blurred, my mind focused on the push and pull of the aura. On and off, wide or narrow. My arms tired from the repeated toggling, or maybe that was in my head. My body never seemed to tire physically. VIT 148 saw to that. But the mental strain built up.

By late afternoon, I'd grown comfortable. I no longer panicked when trees died at my approach. I'd learned to keep the aura reined in, restricting the lethal effect to a short distance if I so chose. Or letting it spill forth if I needed a wide net.

I left the forest. My boots tread over dead needles, the undergrowth quiet. The sun dipped low, sliding behind the trees. Evening approached. I'd head back to Riverside Lodge. The vampire had said the gatherings happened at night. I'd see if anyone showed. I'd see if any devils lurked. Maybe I'd glean a clue about Helena.

I hiked back to the city. My path took me through suburban roads again, though night settled quickly, so I passed unseen. Streetlamps flickered on. Houses glowed from inside. Families dined or watched TV. I marched past them, invisible in my hood. My mind fixed on the lodge.

By the time I reached the waterfront, twilight reigned. The sky glowed purple, the river dark, small lights dancing on its surface from distant lamps. Riverside Lodge crouched on the bank, silent, a husk. I circled behind a row of derelict buildings, recalling my [Tempestus Scions Training]. I'd find vantage points, watch from afar.

I climbed a fire escape on a neighboring structure. The metal groaned but held. I crouched near the roof edge. From there, I had a decent view of the lodge's front door. Boarded windows slanted under the angled roof. I spotted no movement, no lights. Maybe no one was home.

I waited. Darkness deepened. The city lights reflected in the water. I saw a distant ferry's glow drifting. The lodge stayed dark. Hours passed. I heard gulls squabbling along the river. In the gloom, rats scurried below. No visitors. No sign of life.

It felt like a wasted lead, but I'd already come this far. I'd try the direct approach. If I left now, I'd never know. So when the final hint of color left the sky, I descended. My boots landed on cracked pavement. I advanced, crossing the narrow yard of debris that fronted the lodge.

The main door was warped, the paint peeled. A faint breeze stirred the weeds at the threshold. I set my hand on the handle. The wood felt soft, almost rotted. I pressed. It gave with a creak. I stepped inside, the gloom swallowing me.

Dark corridors stretched beyond. A faint smell of decay, old carpet turned moldy. My eyes adjusted. Shapes of broken furniture lay scattered. A hallway veered off to the left. A wide desk sat near the entry, once a reception maybe. Dust coated everything.

I advanced. Footsteps echoed. Something moved in the corner. A tall figure rose from behind the desk, shoulders broad. He wore a tattered suit, stretched across muscle-bound arms and chest. His face pale, eyes red with faint luminescence. A vampire again. He glared, baring teeth.

He snarled, voice low. "A puny human. So bold to enter here."

I studied him. The occupant of this lodge. Possibly a guard or bouncer. The corridor behind him seemed more intact, maybe leading to the deeper rooms where creatures gathered. I took a breath, stepping forward.

He lunged, grabbing the desk's edge, flipping it in a show of strength. The rotted wood crashed, splinters flying. He bared fangs and smiled. "I suppose an early dinner couldn't hurt."

Even with all of my stats, this guy was more likely far stronger than I was. But, I wasn't exactly interested in playing fair.

I said nothing, just flicked on my aura. The color drained from the lobby, dust motes in midair turning gray. The vampire stiffened, eyes bulging. He clutched his chest, breath catching. A choking sound escaped him, blood trickling from his nostrils.

He dropped to his knees and trembled. I strode closer, each step steady. He raised a hand, grasping at nothing, trying to resist. Red fluid leaked from his eyes, from the corners of his mouth. He hissed, or tried to, but coughed instead, spitting blood. Were vampires, in particular, extremely susceptible to my [Blank] aura? I suppose, if the myths were true, then the only thing keeping them alive and coherent was magic; threaten that little chain and they start falling apart. Devils, I figured, were entirely different.

I came near enough to grab him by the face. My hand tightened around his jaw, feeling the lumps of muscle beneath his pale skin. He groaned and looked up to me with wide and fearful eyes.

"You'll let me in," I said.

He nodded frantically, tears of blood streaming down. I toggled the aura off. The color bled back. He gasped, bracing a hand on the shattered desk, drooping like a rag doll. Blood still seeped from his nose, glistening on his upper lip.

He scrabbled at an ornate door behind him, a battered sign overhead reading "Ballroom" or something half-faded. He fumbled with a lock, cursing under his breath, trying not to cough. The door swung open on creaking hinges. He half-turned, eyes wide with fear. I saw no defiance left in them.

I stepped forward. He staggered aside, pressing himself against the wall. Blood dripped onto the stained carpet. My gaze flicked to him, then beyond. The corridor beckoned, deeper into the Riverside Lodge. That was where the real hub might lie, the place of devils and vampires meeting.

I passed him. His breath rasped in shallow gulps, a few drops spattering the floor. My footsteps led me into the dim hallway. Faint lights flickered at intervals, perhaps emergency bulbs. The walls were scrawled with odd symbols. A stale odor, something like old incense and rotting plaster.

Behind me, the tall vampire let out a weak groan, sliding to a sitting position. He wouldn't bother me again.

I pressed on. I heard murmurs from somewhere deeper. Low voices, maybe half a dozen or more. The air held a tension, a sense of hidden power. I kept my [Blank] aura off. No point announcing myself to everyone. I'd reveal it if things went sour.

A set of double doors waited at the corridor's end, old wood carved with swirling motifs. I heard voices from within, speaking a language I didn't fully recognize. Something about trades, secrets, deals. A faint glow flickered under the door, perhaps candlelight or dim electric bulbs.

I paused, testing the door. Unlocked. I pushed it open, stepping inside. The hush I carried from the alley lingered. My heart beat steady, arms tensed at my sides.

And I saw them. Vampires, at least four or five, some huddled in a corner. A pair of cloaked figures with pointed ears. Possibly fae. Another figure slouched on a broken sofa, face obscured by a hood, eyes glinting red like the others. The room looked like an old ballroom with half the furnishings gone. Torn drapes hung from tall windows. Chairs and tables stood in disarray. A few battered lanterns or lamps cast a weak orange glow. And yet, it was alive.

They noticed me at once, turning their heads, eyes narrowing. A hush fell. Someone hissed. Another rose from a battered seat, tension in the set of his shoulders.

I cleared my throat, stepping forward. My boots scraped the warped flooring. I let my gaze sweep the room, counting each occupant, gauging threats. A small bar lay to one side, dusty bottles lined up.

No one spoke. Then one vampire—taller than the rest but not as muscular as the guard—moved forward. He showed his fangs in a polite sneer, if such a thing could exist. "A mortal. Strange to see you here. Are you a mage, perhaps? So far away from home, aren't you?"

I shrugged, letting a hint of confidence show. "I'm looking for someone. A devil named Helena Stolas. Heard she might frequent places like this."

That name raised eyebrows. A few murmured among themselves. One figure with a scaly patch on his neck coughed into his sleeve. The tall vampire gave me a long look, pupils glowing faintly.

"Never heard of her," he said. "You're alone?"

I nodded.

"Then you should go," he said, turning to the others. Some shrugged. Others stared with caution.

I took a step forward, ignoring the thick tension. I crossed my arms over my chest.. "I'll stay."

He bared his teeth again, a half-laugh. "We can remove you if we must."

I flexed my fingers near the hem of my jacket, ready to draw the [Las Pistol] or flick on my aura if needed. The occupant with scaly skin shifted from his seat, eyes flicking between me and the others. The cloaked pair leaned in, whispering, their voices a susurrus of unknown language.

The tall vampire eyed me, a glimmer of curiosity in his gaze.

"You smell off," he said quietly. "Not just mortal blood. Something else. Something vile."

I almost smirked. That might be my [Blank, a residue. They could sense the void. I said nothing, just stared back.

He broke first, glancing at his companions. "You want to talk about devils, fine. But don't cause trouble. We have rules here."

"I understand." I gave a curt nod. My heart thundered, but I kept my face blank. The others returned to their seats or corners, though some watched me warily.

I stepped further in, scanning the decaying ballroom. Faded murals on the walls depicted riverside scenes from a bygone era. The floor sagged in places, water damage from a leaky roof. A few crates served as tables where some of them perched. I saw odd items strewn about: old coins, tarnished jewelry, vials of unknown liquids. Some kind of trade happening here.

I drifted near a half-intact table. The scaly figure eyed me, then shifted aside to make room. I settled on a broken chair, crossing my arms.

The tall vampire followed, standing behind me. He smelled of stale perfume.

"This is a private gathering," he said. "We come to trade or talk. Mortals rarely appear."

"I'm not an ordinary mortal," I said, voice low. "And I have a few questions."

He nodded slowly. Then he glanced at the others, as if seeking confirmation that I could stay. Some shrugged. A few ignored us, continuing hushed deals over trinkets or potions. The cloaked pair studied me from beneath their hoods, eyes faintly gleaming. I leaned in. "Helena Stolas, where is she?"

"She's still in the city, licking her wounds." The vampire answered, smirking. "But you'll never find her–not unless you somehow scan every single apartment and condominium complex within a few days. No, impossible. I know where she is."

I raised a brow. "And I suppose you're willing to tell me–for a price."

AN: Chapter 36 is out on (Pat)reon!