Chapter 1: On the Shores of Newport

The air was thick with salt from the nearby sea, and it stretched over the port town, all-encompassing and moist. Only the sound of waves could be heard from below as they lapped at the face of a small cliff, sea foam hushing along the rocks beneath a full moon. Here, on the outskirts of town, a curious building was alight; the silhouette of an old inn, traced with cobblestones and a warped, iron gate, served as a beacon to coasting ships to turn away from the city of Newport. Parts of its structure were charred and rotten, and half of the inn rose up to greet the starry night with skeletal timbers and beams, while the remaining half housed a golden glow from within.

A smart witch sat up, awake even at such a time of night, but only barely. Her eyes were heavy, and not even the gleam of a gently pulsing ball of light beside her could prevent her eyelids from sliding shut before the spread of papers on an old writing desk. But as soon as she managed to jolt herself awake, her deft, small little fingers were taking up a piece of ribbon to draw back her hair and a pen to continue transcribing text from a blackened piece of parchment nearly inscrutable to the plain eye.

Beyond the walls of the Crown Inn was the rest of Newport, lit up with the light of hundreds of street lamps, burning a waning supply of the literal midnight oil. The witch gazed up briefly from her work to spy at the still buildings that were so very far away, her lips drawn into a no-nonsense line. Adeline had the distinct notion that something was about to run afoul--but then, that happened every night. She had grown used to it.

The witch rose, slipping on boots as the ball of light bobbed along beside her, contentedly. After a moldy-looking shawl had been thrown over her head and shoulders, the weary woman took off through the wrought-iron gate of the Crown, the heels of her boots clicking all the way into the illuminated town.

Deep within the heart of the city, and crammed between other apartment buildings, there stood a shabby and humble apartment complex. Up four flights of stairs and down the hall, a door held its' position, bolts and locks in place. Inside, an old, wooden table stood positioned in the middle of the room, along with two mismatched chairs surrounding it. A couch rested along side the wall where a tiny window let polluted air and cloudy light seep into the place, with a nightstand and a clock next to it. A tiny bathroom laid nuzzled in the corner of the apartment, and on the other side, was a simple stove and sink, with a few dishes. And the last little room was equipped with a single bed and dresser, which had only about six outfits.

Sleeping on the couch, a young woman had her arms crossed and head tilted back. It was uncomfortable, yes, but she could make do. Her elderly father needed the bed more than she did, and she didn't mind. She sighed in her sleep, letting out a little yawn. She frowned in her sleep and rustled. She felt as if bugs were crawling over her skin. Her skin burned and she suffocated in her own nightmare.

Nadiye let out a gasp and sat up, sapphire eyes wide open in the dead of night. Hands on her knees, she took steady breaths, hoping to get her heart rate down. She looked at the clock on the nightstand and sighed. 3 AM. Work would be starting in two hours, so she might as well get ready. Tip-toeing across the creaky floorboards, Nadiye peeped her head inside the bedroom. Laying fast asleep was her father. She crept inside and snatched some 'good enough' clothes to change into for the day. Looking back at her father, she leaned over him and pressed a gentle kiss onto his forehead.

"Dormez bien, papa. Je t'aime."

She prepared a warm breakfast for herself and ate in solitude, sighing and looking at the faint glimmer of the moon that had decided to show itself behind the mask of smoggy clouds. She assembled two sandwiches made from bread and cheese, along with sardines and added some apples. One was for her lunch, the other for papa.

Nadiye's mind wandered to her nightmare, and she frowned to herself. Why would she have imagined that in her sleep? She shook her head, and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, strands falling around her long face, and framing it casually.

It doesn't mean anything. Dreams can't foresee anything.

She scolded herself. Anyone who thought magic was real was an idiot. But not Nadiye. She refused to believe in such nonsense. Logic and rhetoric were her world views. The fact that witches and wizards and seers could live in public with good, hard-working people? Well, that was just asinine.

Somewhere in between the town square and the outer ring perched a large building. It was a printing press, and now all the welcoming lights from within had been put down. All except one. A lantern flicked on the desk, illuminating scribbles and notes of the most recent black magic escapades scattered the flat wooden surface.

Hunched over the papers, Tobias scribbled furiously. Trying again and again to get the outline of the article correct to no avail. With a infuriated grunt he wadded the paper up and tossed it into a basket that was already over flowing with rejected ideas. He covered his face and shouted into his hands, feet pressing into the ground as he leaned back in his chair with a defeated slouch. There was a quiet chime that echoed through the hollow inside of the press, metals and shifting floorboards joined in the small symphony of everyday sounds. He peaked out from behind his fingers and glanced at the large clock on the wall.

"It's late." He muttered to himself as he gathered his things, preparing to leave. There were rumors that the press was haunted, and late at night you could hear footsteps near the machinery, but as silly as it was. Tobias was never one for ghost stories, even in a world of magic.

Tobias pushed the chair in and put out the light. He was exhausted; nights like this were common for him now that stories began to flare. Demonic episodes around the city began to have the public in panic, and he was determined to get every bit of information out of the situation and onto paper.

The door clicked shut and with a quick twist of a key, the lock followed with slight hesitance. Tobias slowly made his way deeper into the belly of the city, ready to fall onto the uncomfortable mattress in his small flat.

The streets were empty at this hour. The shutters of the crooked houses were drawn closed and lights burned dimly in the clouded windows of others as a few brave souls wandered here and there down the cobblestone streets.

Through the thin wisps of fog rolling in from the bay, a young man hurried briskly down the street clutching a polished cane to his side. His pale face was flushed with frustration and the beginnings of a bruise swelled around his left eye. Cursing and wincing, he dabbed gingerly at the angry contusion and peered back over his shoulder. Not far behind another, older man followed. Dressed in a shabby coat and flat-cap, the man’s gray face was twisted into snarl as he strode to catch the fleeting figure ahead.

Gabriel, the man with the bruised face, rounded the corner of a small bakery and pressed his back against the cool brick under the shop’s flaking green sign. His cheek throbbed from the altercation that had taken place outside the tavern and the little bird who had informed him of the demon at the bar would have to be talked to later. But that was a matter for another time.

Overhead, an gas streetlamp hissed as moths and night insects flittered and danced in its warm glow; simple creatures unfettered by demons and the lot. Unlike the moths, Gabriel wouldn’t be safe in the lamp’s light for much longer. He heaved a sigh as he brushed strands of white blond hair from his forehead and waited.

Adeline soon found herself in the town square--a place she hadn't visited in a while. She stood in the glow of a street lamp near a small fountain, cautiously circling around to view the closed buildings and shuttered windows around her. Safe in the circle of light around her, she made a curt gesture with her arm, and the conjured light beside her pulsed in recognition of her motion. With a throwing movement, after one last perimeter check, the aura streaked from her side and down one of the dark alleyways, briefly passing over abandoned rubbish and brick as it went. The spell then returned to her hand, much like a bandalore on a string. Adeline repeated the process, gradually circling the square and sending the protective light down each dark street before mentally declaring the area to be without any spirits or people. Surprising, but she wasn't about to be put at ease so easily.

She froze and extinguished the spell when she heard quick footsteps down a narrow road between a book shop and a bakery. Like a mouse darting away from a cat, Adeline made herself scarce in the circle of shops and ducked against an empty display where fruit would be in the morning, not willing to hide in the deep, dark alleys and risk encountering a spirit. Her eyes never left the man that had made himself known by the festering bruise beneath his eye as he too took up a hiding spot in front of the building across the way from her. Though her heart pounded dully and Adeline told herself it was only a foolish drunkard, the man's clothes suggested otherwise. The small woman hunkered down in her spot, attempting to watch the figure while remaining unseen herself. Perhaps this was the cause of why she'd felt the need to set out tonight.

The air outside was damp from previous showers, it was thick but there was a slight breeze off the seafront. Tobias made his way in between buildings along a cobblestone path, fingers clutching the handle of a small bag that contained all his research.

Street lights lit the other side of the ally, one turn and he'd be heading towards the town square, another would lead him right out of town. As a kid he was always advised to avoid the square at night, and he has always lived by that so he pressed on, taking the longer path home.

The buildings of various sizes loomed over him, all with a dim yellow glow from the occasional street light. There was a flicker in the corner of his eye, something was moving. Tobias snapped his head in the direction of the blurred movement but nothing was there, nothing but his shadow on the wall.

"Just got to get home." He hesitated a moment, the shadow seeming unfamiliar even though it was his own. With a sense of unease, he brushed it off and kept walking, pace quickening. Again there was movement and he froze, he could feel it now. Something was there. Tobias turned his head slowly, but there was nothing but the proud silhouette on the bricks of an older structure.

A sudden realization slid down his spine and sent ice through his veins. The nearest street lamp was over a hundred feet away, and his "shadow" was darker than the ones already surrounding him.

There isn't enough light for me to be casting a shadow. He swallowed hard, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He had to move, had to try and get away. Hesitantly he began to take slow shaking strides, trying his best to ignore his traveling companion.

The worn seaman slowed when he reached the corner of the bakery, creeping silently against the brick wall. Gabriel held his breath as he stared into the darkness at the edge of the building, his grip tightening on his cane. The wait was suffocating. There was a moment of silence and nothing dared to move as if in fear of stirring the thick blackness that engulfed the tiny square.

The waiting continued for another minute or so before the gruff looking man moved to peer around the corner. Unaware of the audience of one hidden away, Gabriel swept around and slammed his cane into the other’s chest. As the seaman staggered back into the shadow, a pale hand seized him by his dingy blue coat and dragged him under the burning streetlamp. There was a flurry of sputtering and cursing as the old sailor lashed out against his assailant only to receive several harsh blows to the head.

The cursing ceased and Gabriel stood upright, adjusting his tailored vest as the older man groaned at his feet. Planting a foot firmly on the sprawling man’s chest, the blond removed a blade sheathed within his cane and raised it high above his head. An inhuman screech rang out through the quiet square but was abruptly silenced as blood spilled, thick and dark, onto the cobblestone.

A late gleam of a candle lit the streets, as did light footsteps fill them. Modest cloth edged towards the ground, retreating with every other move. There they are... A small nod sent a cascade of curls bouncing. Muttering to herself, a young woman turned towards the sound of helpless bleats.
A ewe was trapped in the fencing, struggling with all her heavily pregnant might. The figure shook her head, chuckling. She knew it was far too late in the night to be out doing things such as this, even so, the figure leant down, the ewe now silent.

Tender hands removed the livestock from the wood and wire, shooing it off to join the rest of the herd. Just then, a loud, inhuman screech rung through the area, and she winced, covering her ears with her hands. What would be the wise thing to do? Walk away. Yet, curiosity ebbed at her. She continued to the source of the sound.

He started taking random turns, keeping his pace at a steady rate as an attempt to escape whatever was in the shadows. The buildings beginning to blur together as he took a twisted path, the shadow clinging to each step. His knuckles began to whiten as the grip on his bag began to tighten and his lips thinned out into a line of irritation and slight panic.

Tobias rounded a corner and looked up just in time to see the glint of silver pierce into a the flesh of a flailing figure. Immediately the movement stopped and dark liquid stained the cobblestone. The man on top stood up and brushed himself off, his head not even turning to check the surrounding area. Tobias didn't move further than his unlit alley, the presence of the figure still lingering.

The back drop of the area finally registered, the town square. He slapped his forehead in frustration, just the place he looked to avoid, but after dropping his hand he didn't move. Curiosity nailed him in place and he needed to watch the scene play out.

The clock signaled for 4:30 am, and Nadiye stood up, washing her dish quickly. She dried her calloused and tough hands in cold water, drying them off by the hem of her dress. Grabbing her lunch box, she went off to work.

The morning always soothed her in a strange way. Local superstition advised against walking alone in the dark, for fear of ghosts or something. But how stupid was that? All this religion seeping into politics and the town, it was nonsense. Nobody had died in the shadows, and nobody wou--

In the middle of town square, stood a man with a sword lodged into another, thick blood oozing out of the wound. Another man stood as if nothing had even happened. Nadiye dropped her lunch box, her face washing over with horror and disgust. Her powder blue eyes locked with his and she let out a muffled shriek, her hands covering her mouth.

I'm not seeing this, I'm still asleep. I'm late for work, and I'm gonna get fired, but at least THIS isn't happening.

As much as she told herself that, it didn't work.

More waiting.

Gabriel removed a clean handkerchief from his vest pocket and ran his blade through it, the white fabric staining crimson. At his feet, the body twitched; the twitching growing into violent, flailing convulsions. From the wound in the corpse’s chest bubbled black viscous fluid. Gabriel stepped back from the body as the tar substance continued to pour from the opening. Some feet away there was the clatter of a pail hitting the stone road and the young man’s head shot up. A honey-skinned woman clapped her hands to her mouth muffling her scream.

“Madame,” he says coolly, extending a hand in reassurance, “I assure you everything is fine, please stay calm.”

The black substance began to froth and foam as it started to take the shape of an arm. A torso followed with a charred skull atop its shoulders. The creature twisted and writhed as it pulled itself free of its damaged vessel, it’s teeth gnashing angrily as it hissed and gurgled in the harsh glare of the gaslight.

"What the hell?" He breathed quietly, watching another figure peel itself out of the damaged body. The clean man took a step back, remaining calm and trying to calm the girl who had stumbled upon the situation.

He bit down on his knuckle, trying to keep silent as the scene unfolded.

Nadiye felt like she was going to vomit. The sight of a murder was new and horrified her. She stood stiff as a board, hyperventilating and trying to speak to the man who's charismatic voice could not soothe her troubled soul.

"You-- You killed-- And-- And you--" She gasped as she saw an oily and dark tendril in the image of a hand manifest itself behind the murderer. Out of instinct, she cried, "Look out!" to him, pointing her finger to the thing.

The liquid frothed and foamed like a hellbroth in a cauldron as the black sludge solidified into a rubbery material and was stretched across a spidery skeleton until it teemed over the three witnesses in the square. Adeline glowered from her hiding spot as the earthbound demon flexed its arms and immediately began to gravitate towards the shadows cast by the street lamp, but then began to narrow down its hiding spots to the three fresh skins surrounding its former host. It reared back after the woman gave a cry upon noticing its hand about snatch at the first man, the ugly skull atop its form dropping its jaw in a yowl that ricocheted off the nearby buildings.

Having seen enough of the scene play out, with rapid flick of her hand, Adeline sent one more beam of light spiraling across the way from behind the empty food display. It burst against a brick wall and illuminated the nearby nooks and crannies briefly before fizzling out. The demon reared up instantly, and three additional pairs of eyes were suddenly directed towards her. Keeping her head low, still unwilling to come out of her spot, she drew her shawl further over her and sent another spell sparking with warm light into one of the windows.

Magic. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Nadiye would not stand for this. She scrambled to her knees to get her lunch box, and jumped up, only to see the tarred and pitch black humanoid figure hurdling straight towards her. She shrieked again, and suddenly, everything was over.

Nadiye looked around, to see the three others in the court at that strange hour, and she frowned. She stormed over to the tall and obviously French man and slapped him across the face, ice blue eyes digging into his.

"Je ne resterai pas pour cela! Je vous ai rapporté pour vos crimes! Vous êtes une perturbation de la paix!"

She shouted to him in her mother tongue. She stormed off, a sudden wind chilling her to the very bone. She muttered French profanities at the witch behind her back as well as she trudged her way towards her factory. What an awful way to start the day, she thought to herself. Little did she know the terrors that resided inside of her. . .

Adeline had emerged from behind the food stand in time to see the woman strike the original cause of all the trouble--the well-dressed man. Good, she'd gotten to him before she herself could. Not making eye contact with the two men, she immediately picked up her skirts, shedding her moldy shawl to run after the rapidly departing woman. This was going to be trouble, for sure.

Shrinking back from the sharp blow, Gabriel clutched at his already sore and swollen cheek, “Est-elle stupide?” he murmured. There was a glimpse of movement in the shadows of the square. A mousy-looking girl emerged and bound across the cobblestone after the other woman, her skirt hitched up and shawl slipping from her shoulders as she went. Gabriel put his sword back in its proper place and removed a pair of gold-rimmed glasses from his waistcoat. Seeing as clearly as having a black eye would allow, he looked to the girls disappearing down the street then back to the waxy corpse on the pavement and back again, “Dammit.”

Tobias swallowed hard, the scene quickly unraveled in front of him and before he could blink, it was over. He turned a glance towards the shadow. It lingered but it had become more of a traveling companion than a threat. After what was witnessed, the shadow was the least of his problems.

He pushed himself out into the opening, his stride as confident as his nerves would allow. "What the hell was that?" He inquired, keeping a distance between him and the irritated killer in front of him. He should be at home in his bed as comfortable as granite, not here trying to discuss bizarre things with a strange man at five in the morning.

The breeze brought nothing but damp air, chimes on a nearby shop played a soft melody as the dark sky was beginning to lighten up. The man shot him a tired and icy glare, as if he couldn't be bothered with anymore interaction at this time. This was his job though, he was used to the look as he pressed on with the questions.

"What the hell was that? And who the hell are you?"

The man in question rubbed the last smudges of blood from his hands onto his handkerchief before tucking it back into his waistcoat pocket.

“Gabriel LeFévre. Demon hunter,” he stated plainly, “And that was a demon. This man has been dead for a week at the very least and any medical autopsy could tell you that. Unless you need me to provide further evidence that I am not, in fact, a murderer, the black spawn that crawled from the man’s chest should be sufficient enough. Do you have any other questions or are we done here? ” Gabriel asked as he adjusted the cufflink of his sleeve. Tobias stood by, still unsure of what to make of the man before him, “Excellent. If you’ll excuse me, I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

With that, Gabriel turned and left to catch up to the two women down the street.

"Wai--" He cut himself off, trailing behind Gabriel who was following the fleeing women. A demon? He had been on the trail of one for quite some time, but he had never truly seen one before this. Though after that display, he was glad he hadn't.

Gabriel and Tobias finally caught up to the two young women.

Nadiye saw a caravan of those heathens following her and she groaned. "Can I help you?" She demanded at all three of them, glaring over her shoulder at them. At this rate, Nadiye would be late, fired and left on the streets with her father.

She walked briskly down the streets, the sun shyly peeping it's rays of light onto the world, as if it were unsure of what it should do.

“No, but you could certainly use help.” Gabriel wove around to block the seething girl’s path, “That is unless you want to end up like that poor bastard on the pavement back there. His name was Jeremy Barrett and he was a fisherman a town over. He went missing six days ago and turned up here, with no word to his family, under another name. All sorts of nasty creatures seem to be gravitating here recently so naturally he must have followed suit.” Nadiye’s free hand twitched at her side as she contemplated slapping the man again.

“Is that what you want to happen? Disappearing for days, even months, on end, your family worrying about you constantly until, just maybe, you turn up dead?” he narrowed his eyes, stopping the honey-skinned woman again as she tried to push past him, “Anyone can see you’re a hardworking, no-nonsense woman, this it would be in your best interest. Il ya un démon à l'intérieur de vous et il a l'intention de vous faire du mal.”

Color drained from the girl's face as the man spoke to her in their native tongues. She felt sick, as if she were going to vomit and pass out, but she kept her chin up. No way were these people going to distract her from her daily life. She was secure, she had a solid life! She glared up at the man and turned around quickly, as if someone had jerked her away.

"Il est peu probable."

The more she kept walking, the more irritated she got. Why would a stranger lie about that? He probably wanted her money, or something. No way was she giving that con artist her hard earned money. He could damned well get a real job. The other two people worried her, they were too quiet. Especially that girl. She didn't look quite. . . There.

” Ainsi soit-il.” he waved his hand.

“I have nothing to gain or lose in lying to you. In fact, I have nothing to gain or lose in helping you either.” Gabriel folded his hands neatly on top of his cane. The young woman continued to push against him, trying to nudge him out of the way, becoming visibly flustered as she did. He placed a hand on firmly her shoulder and held her in place:

“I do conjure thee, O thou spirit, by all the most glorious and efficacious names of the Most Great and Incomprehensible Lord God of Hosts, that thou comest quickly and without delay from all parts and places of the earth,” he began, his voice clear and sure, “and that visibly and affably, speaking with a voice intelligible unto mine understanding as aforesaid. ..” The young woman stopped in her place, shaking under the man’s hand.