If he stared long enough, Cassian could almost feel as if there were something gazing back at him from amidst the pitch black night. 

He stood at the window, with only the sounds of the rain and the crackling of the fire to cut through the silence. His eyes were pointed at the forest around his home—painfully still and veiled in shadows that the moon, hidden behind an overcast sky, could do nothing to drive away. Cassian wondered just how much of the eerie feeling of being watched was simply his mind playing tricks on him. 

It was enough to almost make him miss the thief’s company. 

Almost.

With a huff, Cassian turned away from the window and trudged back to his room. After the troublesome night he’d had, it was no surprise that his body ached and clamored for more rest in spite of all the sleep he’d managed to get since then. If Ethelred truly meant to hunt Cassian down, he would meet with little—if any—resistance. It was a real miracle that Cassian had managed to chase Ethelred away in the first place. 

And yet that thief thought I would join him in his ridiculous quest, Cassian thought with some disbelief. 

In truth, Cassian might have considered going after Ethelred—though definitely not in the company of the thief—but he knew better. There was no chance of him being able to reach Ethelred, not in the shape he was in. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to stay alive for so long there was little hope in him defeating the necromancer. 

And then there was the staff. 

Ethelred would make gathering the scattered pieces of it a priority. After all, Cassian wasn’t the only one living on borrowed time. Once Ethelred had the staff, defeating him would be a nightmare. 

That’s if he gets his hands on it. There was a sliver of hope that Ethelred would fail, unlikely as that was. Cassian chose to cling to it. 

“Maybe that thief will prove to be useful,” he muttered as he walked to his bed. The man had certainly been determined to get what he wanted from Ethelred and make the necromancer pay for his trickery. Cassian supposed there was always the possibility he’d succeed.

A moment later, he found himself wanting to laugh at the very thought. The thief—Elias—was capable enough, but he had no hope of getting what he was after. Not when it was Ethelred who stood in the way. Cassian almost felt pity for the thief. He’d been decent enough before he left. 

Cassian still had no desire to ever see him again, but still. 

He glanced out of the window in his room, watching the rain beat against the glass. Cassian couldn’t help but wonder just what the thief was up to at that time. Was he planning how best to search for Ethelred, perhaps? Cassian thought it unlikely. The man looked like he’d never planned a thing in his life. 

With a shake of his head, Cassian climbed into bed. All thoughts of the thief faded away along with his consciousness.

It was likely a good thing that Cassian didn’t dream very often. Ever since Ethelred had betrayed him, he’d found his nights filled with nothing but emptiness until he awoke. It was preferable to the unwanted memories that plagued the few dreams he had. 

He was particularly grateful for his lack of dreaming when he awoke the following morning. Most of the aches and pains from his tussle with Elias had dulled to a point where Cassian could simply ignore them as he went about getting ready to head out. 

It was an unfortunate fact that life went on—the mundanity of daily living a necessity regardless of what chaos was dropped onto Cassian’s life. This was the very reason he spent a good part of his day preparing to make the trip to the nearby town. Much as Cassian disliked dealing with people, he had business to conduct. At least, until whenever Ethelred deigned to show up and put an end to things.

Cassian worked slowly, keeping in mind that there was a certain thief he wanted to avoid running into. He’d told Cassian he would be in town until morning. Wanting to make sure there was a decent amount of distance between them, Cassian didn’t head out until the sun was high in the sky, the still gray skies turning its light into a pale glow that painted the world in dreary tones.  

There was a chill hanging in the air as Cassian stepped out, his usual bag filled to the brim with medicine he’d spent a good while crafting, all carefully arranged in jars and tins. It felt heavier than usual as it rested on his shoulder, likely because there was still some lingering exhaustion weighing him down. With nothing to be done about it, Cassian pulled his cloak tight around him and began the walk through the forest. 

Though he wasn’t looking forward to reaching the bustling little town nearest to him, Cassian enjoyed the walk through the woods. It was nice to be outside and feel the crisp breeze sweep through his hair, a soothing touch that brought him a moment of peace. For the short time Cassian strolled through the woods, he was able to forget all the things that weighed upon his mind. 

Ethelred and Elias. The constantly ticking clock of his own life. It was all pushed back for a short while. 

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when the sound of the people of the town going about their lives reached his ears. Cassian paused at the edge of the woods, beneath the shade of the trees, and gazed out at the cluster of buildings of brick and stone the winding path he was on led to. Smoke rose from various chimneys, curling up into the air and being lost against the cloudy sky. Cassian could almost smell its acrid scent, his sharp senses sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. All the while, people could be seen wandering about, living their lives without a care—laughter and the constant chatter was lost to the wind, but Cassian knew it was there. He grimaced as he watched. 

With a very weary sigh, he pulled up the hood of his cloak to cover his bone-white hair and resumed his walk along the dirt road. The sun had begun its downward path as the morning faded into a dim afternoon. Idly, Cassian thought of the thief and how far he must be at that time. He could only hope it was very far from him. 

If there was one thing Cassian could appreciate about the town it was that the people were far too used to his presence to pay him much mind. There were still whispers and curious—even hostile—looks thrown his way, but it was easy to ignore it all. No one bothered him, that was as much as Cassian could hope for. 

He was still relieved to reach his destination. The little shop amidst the various and far more colorful ones was almost drowned out. If their services weren’t so useful, Cassian was sure no one would take note of it.

The door creaked as he opened it and entered, the scent of herbs and incense the first thing he noticed. It was a familiar thing that could almost be called comforting if not for how cloying it could be. He heard a rustling from the back of the shop. A moment later, a familiar face appeared behind the counter. 

“Agatha,” Cassian said, eyes settling on the older woman. As always, her graying brown hair was loosely pinned back with only a few stray curls out of order. Her hazel eyes sparkled amidst her freckled face, laugh lines appearing as her gaze settled upon Cassian. “It’s been a while.” 

“Too long, I’d say. Just about ran out of everything since you last dropped by.” She leaned against the counter as Cassian approached and set his bag on the wooden surface. 

“That’s unusual. Did a plague happen to sweep through since I last visited?” Cassian asked as he began to empty his bag. 

“You have an awful sense of humor,” Agatha said, but Cassian could hear the hint of amusement coloring her voice. 

“So I’ve been told.” He hadn’t, not really. Cassian didn’t interact with enough people to have his sense of humor questioned. Honestly, Agatha was about the only person he ever spoke with. 

For a second, the fleeting image of the thief’s face passed through Cassian’s mind. It was enough to make him question whether whatever bit of sanity he had left was finally beginning to desert him. 

“Had a traveler come through and take whatever he could get his hands on. Seemed to be preparing for a long trip.” 

That peaked Cassian’s interest, his hand stilling as he pulled the last of his stock. He looked up at Agatha and just knew his suspicions would be right. 

“A traveler? That’s rare.” At least, it was for the out of the way town. 

“Especially with this shit weather,” Agatha agreed. “Seemed to be in a hurry. Didn’t even have the chance to ask the boy where he was headed.” 

Cassian almost wanted to tell Agatha her visitor was nothing but a rotten thief, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to have to deal with whatever questions she would come up with. 

“By the way, heard there were some odd sounds in the woods the night before last. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” 

“No, but it was likely some beast. You know how they like to roam around the forest this time of year,” Cassian lied smoothly. 

“I still don’t know how you can live there. Especially all on your own.” 

“It’s nice and quiet,” Cassian said, watching as Agatha began to tally the goods he’d delivered. “It’s peaceful.” Most importantly, it was away from the judgmental looks that followed him whenever he stepped foot in town. 

“Sure, but it’s still a long trip to have to make whenever you need to come into town. Especially with the poor health you look to be in.” She eyed him, as if examining him with only her gaze. The little downwards tilt of her lips told Cassian he’d failed whatever arbitrary test she’d set on him. 

“I’ve managed this long,” was all Cassian could say. Agatha let out a little sigh, but said nothing more as she counted out Cassian’s payment. 

He was almost glad to be out of the shop, especially with a considerable amount of coins now weighing him down. He was sure it would be enough for however long he had left. It was almost a shame he’d likely not be able to provide Agatha with any more medicine. 

“Be careful on your way back. Looks like we’re in for another night of rain,” Agatha said, as she accompanied him out the door. Cassian followed her gaze up to the darkening skies and suspected she was likely right. 

Before he could agree, a gust of wind swept past. Cassian froze at the scents carried through, too subtle for most to pick up on. To him, it was all too obvious. The painfully familiar rot of death and magic mingled with the cool breeze and the petrichor smell of oncoming rain. He swallowed thickly at the meaning of it while he gazed out in the direction the wind had come from. 

Ethelred was near.