Deep in the forest, at the boundary between the outskirts and the second area, was a place no one dared approach. A large tree stood surrounded by high grass. It looked like a little paradise for herbivores, yet they avoided it like the plague. In front of this place, a small flame suddenly appeared, and from it emerged a slightly crooked old figure.

  Old Meza lifted her cane lightly, then brought it down to tap the ground. Hidden beneath the wild grass were inscriptions burned into the earth, surrounding the entire clearing. The symbol in front of her lit with purple fire, and a portal opened.

  She stepped through. It closed behind her.

  The scenery changed completely. The grass vanished, replaced by a wide path leading to a two-story mud house where the tree had stood.

  On the right was an outdoor kitchen near a well. Beside it lay a pond connected to a small river flowing beyond the barrier.

  On the left stretched a small field where potatoes, tomatoes, onions, and other crops were tended by humanoid monsters. A closer look revealed distorted bipeds marked with burning inscriptions. Flames devoured them constantly. Some still had patches of skin. Others showed raw flesh. Some were almost skeletons, their flames much weaker than the others.

  As she walked toward the house, one of the bone creatures collapsed. Its fire died, and its symbols faded into purple smoke.

  Tchrr. I need sturdier ones, she thought, stepping past the remains.

  Seconds later the bones crumbled into ash and scattered into the wind.

  This was one of Old Meza’s powers — Living Flame. By burning symbols with her blood onto something, she could control it. She could use it on herself for short teleportation, stealth, and other witchcraft. But its most terrifying use was controlling living beings. With more complex symbols she could force them to perform simple tasks. Harder tasks required someone who already knew how to perform them.

  A crooked smile formed on her wrinkled face. then she sighed.

  The drawback was time. Ordinary people lasted only three days before bursting into flame. After that, the purple fire consumed them slowly while they worked until they became piles of bones. She needed new ones constantly. Spirit-watchers were better vessels, but she could only control those much weaker than herself. That was why she had killed the older cultists and kept the youngest, as most of them were almost of the same rank as her.

  She opened the door and entered her house. the place was full of Masks covering the walls, artifacts collected over many years. Beautiful wooden furniture rested on exotic animal skins. The house smelled of wonder, art, and mysticism.

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  After eating, she went upstairs to her bedroom.

  It was simple room: a handwoven reed mat with intricate motifs, two jars of water, half a calabash, candles, and a large portrait.

  The portrait lay above the mat.

  It showed a stunning woman with ebony skin wearing a tight dress made from richly patterned woven cloth. Her figure curved elegantly. Her smile revealed perfect white teeth. But her most striking feature was her eyes — hypnotic violet, almond-shaped, with gently slanted corners.

  It was a beauty that rivaled even Yassena, the most beautiful woman of Azuma.

  Old Meza stared at the portrait with pain and longing.

  It was her ... Three decades ago.

  No one knew what curse they would receive after clearing a cursed area. Some suffered small inconveniences. Others were not so fortunate. Since her first trial, the flame in her soul had been eating away her lifespan.

  Exhausted, she lay down.

  Other spirit-watchers can live a hundred years… the strongest even five hundred. But this curse devours mine. I must clear this area soon and break through.

  She turned over, still murmuring.

  “I heard true powerhouses can even alter their appearance…”

  She smiled. Her crooked teeth trembled in her gums. this was her ultimate dream , to regain the devastating beauty she once had. Sleep finally took her after a little time.

  That child should be dead by now. Tomorrow I’ll retrieve the mask. this was her last thought before closing her eyes.

  In the middle of the next day she finally opened her eyes. Her body, older than it should be, made her tire easily, and after yesterday’s exertion her reserve of Tumio was only half full.

  She stepped outside and headed to the right side of the house to fetch water. On the way she glanced at her field.

  “Tchrr. Another one crumbled.”

  The number of living torches had decreased again.

  After washing herself behind the house, she took an herbal tooth stick and slowly began chewing it. After a while she noticed something missing in the kitchen that she needed for dinner. With a sigh she prepared a small bowl of gari before setting off toward Azuma market.

  By the time she reached town it was already past mid-afternoon. Before going to the market she walked through the streets to look for their main objective — the mask. She had planned to quietly “borrow” a child and ask about Kazeem. however, she didn’t need to.

  Near the scavenger camp she saw a tall, slender young man walking slowly, almost daydreaming. The two strand twists on his head looked newly done. His simple clothes couldn’t hide his beauty, making people from both genders glance twice.

  Until they saw his eyes, then they looked away.

  Old Meza froze.

  How is this possible? Anyone who takes an artifact must endure a trial or suffer a deadly curse. Ordinary people die after a few days from illness or misfortune… yet he walks freely? Wasn’t that mask supposed to be the most important artifact those fanatics possessed?

  Her surprise turned into greed.

  So what? Either it hasn’t activated yet — and I can snatch it — or he passed the trial. Then I can snatch him.

  She stealthily used half the Tumio she had left to inscribe simple symbols on the young man’s back and appeared in front of him.

  “Oh. It’s you, little liar,” she said with a crooked smile. but then the smile froze.

  The young man who had been daydreaming was now staring straight into her eyes, his ghost-like amber gaze pierced her as if he had known she was coming.

  A chill ran down her spine.

  ~~~~~~~

  Power had given her dominion over life and death, yet stolen the only thing she truly desired.