Hunter of the Evernight Chapter 561: My name is Riona

Arwen couldn’t tell how long she’d been running for, only that she had been doing so since she arrived in the Afterlife.

It was unlike the stories told to children around the bonfire.

Those stories depicted the Afterlife as a dreary place devoid of activity but that was rather far from the truth.

Sure, those who passed on were laid to rest, judging from the billions of stone coffins with nas that served as the resting place of the souls of the departed.

But those were not the only occupants of the dinsion also known as the resting place of the dead.

One such occupant was the reason Arwen was forced to hide behind a pillar, one of the several that held up the solid sky above, her expression tense as she looked around, seemingly in search of sothing.

Then she saw it.

It was a skull larger than a building, covered in green flas and floating as it moved at a asured pace.

Judging from her experience thus far, it appeared to be a sentinel, one that ensured the souls of the dead continued to sleep.

To think that she had gained its attention on her first day, but it wasn’t like it was her fault.

There were so many of these creatures, each one tasked to look after a relatively small portion of the seemingly infinite land of the dead.

It was expected that they would notice and indeed, co for her.

The fact that she was also slowly losing her humanity made matters worse.

Judging from her current state, Arwen surmised that she had roughly 48 hours left before she would be unable to revert to being a living person.

Alas, she had no intentions of succumbing to death before she reached her goals.

Taking a deep breath, she cald her nerves long enough to attempt sothing rather foolish, an action she had taken several tis already.

In truth, she had entered the Afterlife with a desire to learn more about death since the Palelands were not on the table.

So, just running around defeated the whole purpose of her coming in the first place.

Which was why, with another breath, Arwen exerted her Will, seeking to seize control of the green flas that the flaming skull was covered in.

As a creature of the dead, Arwen hoped to gain so insights into death from dominating it in a battle of Will.

The creature seed to realize her intention as it turned in her direction and opened its mouth, unleashing a conflagration of green flas to rid her of life.

Arwen retaliated in kind, unleashing her pale flas to contend with the skull creature.

There was a rumbling as the flas collided, causing the silent dinsion to quickly grow lively.

The contest lasted for a bit longer before Arwen retreated, making her way toward another pillar even as the skull creature gave chase.

After a bit of back and forth, she quickly arrived within the territory of another sentinel, causing the previous one to return, proving to Arwen that these sentinels were not allowed to leave their posts.

It seed their presence was essential to the order that persisted within the Afterlife.

Quickly hiding behind a pillar, Arwen searched for the sentinel guarding this portion of the dinsion only to pause as she sensed a gaze in her direction.

The gaze was so obvious that it felt like its owner had no intentions of masking its presence, causing Arwen to imdiately grow tense as she felt that the gaze belonged to the sentinel of this portion.

Her breathing was heavy, and she slowly turned while conjuring a fla tongue on her finger.

Then, she ca face to face with the owner of the gaze only to pause as it was not the sentinel.

Instead, it was a woman with raven black hair.

She had a beautiful face with perfectly symtrical features and was covered in a dark cloak made out of bird feathers, radiating an aura of death that caused Arwen to recall sothing.

Banshee.

"Who are you?" She asked in a barely audible tone, unwilling to draw the attention of the sentinel just yet.

"Unbelievable." The woman said, her tone laced with admiration as she scrutinized Arwen for an uncomfortably long mont. "I thought my senses were off but on the contrary, they were beyond spot-on."

Arwen didn’t hesitate to put up the hand holding the fla tongue, aiming it at the woman with the intent to attack should she overstep.

"I asked a question. Answer ."

"My na is Riona." The woman calmly replied with her arms in the air. "Riona Nic Dubhdara and I need your help."

***

It was a rowdy market day in Picenza with several going about their business, the traders selling their wares with renewed vigor, and the custors haggling in a bid to purchase goods they were interested in.

This was the first market day of the year, so naturally, it was bound to be chaotic, but it was made even more so by the news that had been going around in recent days.

"Have you heard?... There’s been an incident in Albanum. A mber of the Church was murdered in cold blood and his body hung on the walls of the church there as a warning to all."

"Stop talking rubbish. Who would dare to do such a despicable thing."

"It’s not a who, a what. There’s a monster in Albanum, they call it the Cloaked Devil. It was what killed the knight and it continues to terrify the residents. My cousin that lives there sent a telegram the other day, asking to help him get a good place to stay so he can finally get so peace of mind from the madness."

"Now you are just talking rubbish, what Cloaked Devil?... You’d best stop it with your hearsay lest you be pointed out as a heretic and burned at the stake."

"I’m just telling you what I heard, no need to threaten ."

"Focus and sell your wares instead of wasting ti on nonsense."

"Fine, fine, I hear you." Shaking his head, the man felt the urge to relieve himself and so asked for the other to watch over his stall for a mont.

anwhile, unbeknownst to the ignorant fellow, a certain figure was hidden in the alleyway just behind where his stall was set up.

Though she could not understand most of what was said due to the language barrier, Nadia had co to understand the translation of her title, Cloaked Devil, in Crasseno and so was aware that they were talking about her exploits in Alban.

Unfortunately, it seed those in Picenza, the closest city to Albanum, did not believe in the Cloaked Devil, stifling her growth in the process; after all, a true terrorist was known to all and feared by all.

So with a heavy sigh, she turned and left, aware of the fact that her trial was far from over.