The color of red sprouted on every corner of Ashendel. From the close tight building, rooftops, inside their homes, down to the drains. Before Ethel reached the entrance gate, the intoxicating smell hit stronger than it was in the forest. Locals tried ignoring the flowers. Their gazes shuddered whenever they looked at the roses. A man wept on the stairs to his home. Scratches and blood covered his hands. In a fit of rage, he pulled the invaders out from the entrance of his home. Desperate to reclaim his property, he didn’t care about the stung. Yet, the roses bloomed no matter how many times he yanked them out with his bare hands. Eventually, he got tired and could only cry. They gave up on Ashendel. The entire town turned into a garden of roses. The root of its curse grew deeper into the heart of Ashendel. Ophelia wrapped her thorns on the dweller’s spirit.

A woman bumped into Ethel. “Sorry—” She turned to the woman who was already on the ground. Ethel reached out to the woman, keeping her hood shadowed over her face.

Suddenly, the woman pulled her close into an embrace. Heavy breath tickled close to her ears.

“It’s inside me.” The woman moaned, grinding herself to Ethel. “Take it out.”

Ethel pushed the mortal away. After losing the warmth of another body, the woman scratched her skin, inching closer to her intimate area as she arched her legs opened shamelessly. Strings of drool dropped from her mouth like a dog in heat. She tugged the strings open on her dress, revealing her red flushed flesh. Vine of thorns slithered under the skin of her thigh. Ethel shut her nose when the sweet aroma coming from the woman beckoned her.

“Please take it out.” The woman reached out for her hand again, but Ethel stepped away. Without glancing back at the desperate woman, she left the woman there.

The woman cried out as she crawled towards Ethel. Before she reached to a shadow nearby to teleport herself away from the scene, the woman’s wail was replaced by a laugh. Irritated, Ethel was thinking about knocking the delusional mortal. She placed a hand over the woman’s head.

“Coming back again?” The woman held her hand to her cheek.

Ethel only stared at her with a blank face. Though the act wasn’t the mortal’s own will, Ethel was close to snapping her thin string of patience.

“I’m glad you’re here to see this town you once turned into a hell.” The woman’s brown hazel eyes shifted into red blood. Her voice was layered by another voice.

Ethel jerked her hand away. “Ophelia!”

Before she could question the voice from the woman, knights ambushed the alley. She hid inside a shadow nearby. The female knights held the woman’s arms on both sides. One of them laid a cloak around the woman to hide her flesh from the eyes. A young man dressed in a white-blue cloak entered the alley. Ethel knew the man the moment she looked at his azure blue eyes. A silver pendant engraved with a goldenrod flower swayed around his neck. One of the three brightest light—justice.

Just my luck.

A knight whispered to the luminary’s ears. His jaws clenched when the woman reached out to him.

“Until her senses return, take her to the cell. Bound her feet and arms. The man should stay away from her while the women keep her in arms close.”

Why are you staying here? Leave now.

Ethel ignored her butterfly. His light.

Crimson red eyes darkened as she focused on the luminary’s light that dwell inside his vessel. The light flickered as the woman passed by him. He gulped the desire into the pit of his stomach. His gaze avoided the lustful gaze.

“The light is flickering.”

While she was waiting quietly, the luminary didn’t notice her presence despite being so close. After seeing the light in him flicker timidly, Ethel made a gamble to see how long she could stay hidden without being noticed. To her surprise, he remained unaware even after she place a hint. She waited until they emptied the alley before leaving.

He looked tired. Her butterfly noted.

Ethel nodded in agreement. Maybe the curse on Ashendel placed a heavy toll on his well-being. They were still mortal in the flesh with needs. There were limits to how much they can pushed themselves.

“This will be great for me. I can investigate the whereabout of my blade without worrying about the luminary. He has his own curse to handle. First, let’s check on these.” Ethel shut her eyes closed. Dots of crimson flame scattered around her.

Are you going to leave them?

“And get kill?” Ethel shook her head. “They’ll handle it on their own. Besides, the luminary from Havenbarrow will arrive here tomorrow. I should get my sword before he arrives—Found one.” She spotted the nearest flame. The butterfly remained quiet. Using the locals’ shadows across the street, she traveled with ease without revealing herself. After devouring Arthres’s core, she could move better in shadow and daylight.

“Pardon me.” Ethel slipped inside the mortal’s home. She glided on the floor and hide under a table. There she observed the house. Ethel felt no mortal presence inside the house. Strange marks plastered on the walls and floors. Furnitures wrapped in roses turned upside down. Books thrown into the fire with some of its ripped pages scattered near the hearth where the roses now stuffed it full. Ethel emerged from the table. She set her attention to a room where the target lies ahead. There was no door blocking her path.

Curtains waved in greeting as the breeze entered through the open window. Her eyes wandered inside the room. Furnitures arranged in order. Books placed in their homes. And most importantly, not a single rose in sight. Her gaze stopped on the table beside the bed. A candle held a red crimson flame. Despite being close to the window where the wind threatened to blow its life away, the flame continued to burn; melting the wax. Her butterfly flew out from her shadow and circled around the candle. Both of them had the same question.

Why is my flame in their homes?