Velvet looked around, at the tropical trees, the sound of waves crashing against the shore formed by the old corpse of the colossal, mythical turtle.

  She was back at the wandering island where Lothigern had dropped her days ago, the place where she took and passed the trial of the Goddess of Darkness.

  In fact, she had finished setting up the altar, the candles already lit and burning, the hue of the flames beginning to switch.

  Something that shouldn’t be possible, since that had already happened. And there was never a need or intention to repeat the trial. Next to the fact that she currently was inside Cardomos’ pocket dimension. Or she had been a minute ago.

  A dream? I don’t remember falling asleep, and Dianthus didn’t attack me or anything. Velvet looked up at the moon, different from the one back then.

  When she had done the ritual, it was almost full, yet not completely, before the Goddess of Darkness took over, making it red.

  It didn’t go red this time. No. With a snap, a hole appeared in the middle, hollowing the moon.

  A pressing sensation grew on her chest, taking her breath away as she instinctively used a Wake Up charm.

  It did not work.

  As the moon continued being devoured by the void, Velvet kept on feeling that tug on her chest, pulling her towards the thing behind the moon.

  It’s using my connection with the Goddess of Darkness to track me. A hijacking? Mages could take ownership of other’s spells if the Paradigm wasn’t the one the caster belonged to, so it wasn’t unheard of. But, to hijack a ritual belonging to a god?

  For something like that to work, the thief should be above a deity.

  That soon? The Corruption of Fate spoke about Andras sending another Deriliam to hunt the ones aware of the Chained Man’s true name down, but she expected it to take a few days at most!

  Not even a single one had passed!

  But why? I didn’t manage to learn his name, so why is it coming for me? Something was lacking, a piece of information about why the Deriliam was here, with her.

  Should she try to kill herself to end the dream? Unlike other times, she didn’t know how she fell asleep, which made her reluctant to try the extreme approach. The knife she used back then was still in her hand, sharp as a devil. A single stab and…

  Something fell from the hollowed moon, making no noise as it landed behind the trees.

  Velvet squinted at the thing’s direction, raising the knife and pressing it against her throat, hard enough to draw some blood. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t enough to wake her up.

  The foliage moved in an unnatural way, not following the wind's direction, spreading in her direction.

  So she increased the pressure in her neck, the blade digging into her skin-

  And yet, before she managed to cut deep enough, a strange sensation enveloped her hand, grabbing the knife between her flesh and the weapon, taking it away from her.

  It enterwinned between her fingers, keeping her arm extended, pulling the hand gripping the knife away from her, turning her hand around until the knife’s edge faced up, the blade and her fingers glistening red.

  The Deriliam faced her, a shapeless shadow around her size, with no distinguishable features aside from one, the reason why the Corruption of Fate called him one-eyed.

  It wasn’t because he had a single eye like a cyclops, no. It had two, just that the left one was a gaping hole, a fresh wound on his face with a substance similar to blood falling from it. A blood tainted with purple, resembling poison.

  Poison, or a curse.

  And the right eye, the healthy one, was a pale silver, just like the moon he took away.

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  The Deriliam brought Velvet’s hand towards his face, before licking a stripe across the knife’s blade, tasting the blood.

  She flinched, the tongue temperature absurdly cold, not having any sort of texture. Plus it was weird. A bloodsucking shadow was Creftalias’ territory, not hers. She was more than satisfied with Lothrigern’s pointy ears.

  “An immature witch.” The shadow said, not a second later, removing his tongue from Velvet’s fingers, yet not releasing her hand.

  “A mage.” Velvet corrected.

  “Just like a caterpillar is an immature moth.”

  “Or a butterfly.”

  The shadow tilted his head, making Velvet notice that maybe bickering with a Deriliam wasn’t the best idea, especially the one who fathered curses, and yet…

  He was the one initiating the conversation! It wasn’t Velvet’s fault that she liked to shittalk back!

  Luckily for her, the Deriliam didn’t seem to take it personally. Now, back again, the Corruption had mentioned how both him and Lothrigern used special means to cross space without breaking down everything. So there was a chance of him being unable to do anything directly to her.

  The shadowy fingers pressed on her hand, on her Esca. “Haashi Morgania and Andras Apolyon’s smells are usual on witches, but…”

  “Lothrigern, Baetylus and Nadnaheille’s are not. At least not together.”

  So that’s the name of the one with the thousand hands. And the reason behind why and how he had tracked her down. She simply had collected too many Deriliam’s influences, which called his attention.

  But that means he isn’t hunting me down under Andras’ orders, and it’s just curious. Velvet relaxed slightly. For now, at least.

  “I guess I was… greedy?” She said, not exactly lying. Well, not lying at all. “A bit?” That one was definitely a lie.

  “A bit.” He repeated, before sniffing around the air, reminding Velvet of a hunting dog. “Is that why you’re hiding your location?”

  That proved that she was still in Cardomos’ pocket dimension. Her body, at least. Lothrigern had been the only one able to find it, and He was temporarily in cahoots with the Corruption. In some strange, warped way where both were waiting for the other’s eventual betrayal.

  Well, waiting to be the one to first betray the other.

  “Mayhaps. One of the reasons on a long list of reasons.” Velvet’s eyes met his, watching it twinkle like a replacement for the moon.

  “Hmm.” The Deriliam hummed, finally releasing her hand. “There’s another one’s traces, deeper.” In a blink, the shadow moved forward, leaning closer to her, breath colliding against her neck, shadow fingers probing at the bleeding wound there.

  Velvet grimaced, jumping away. “Deriliam or not, you’re not supposed to sniff and poke at a lady! Were you not taught any manners?!”

  The Deriliam didn’t answer anything at all, falling silent. And yet, to her surprise, took a step back and composed himself, looking at her with his healthy eye.

  Almost mischievously, like a cat watching a mouse, dragging his tongue across his teeth, where two sharp, long fangs peeked, getting tainted red with her blood.

  Wait, he didn’t have teeth a second ago. Nor anything aside from the hollow eye and the moon eye (and the tongue), but, progressively, the shadow had started to become less and less undefined, something more akin to a human.

  “Very well, we can do it as equals. Since this world lacks contenders I won’t refuse anyone.”

  Do what as equals now… She should've asked the Corruption more about the Deriliam, but, since he said contenders, the possibilities were pretty limited. “What if I’d rather not?”

  “Then I will have to sniff and poke at the lady’s secret here and now, since I am chasing something.”

  Right. That lady’s secret he sensed was probably the Chained Man, so Velvet had no intention of just handing it to him… Also, this Deriliam was way too used to speaking with humans; after talking with and seeing the others, it was mostly jarring.

  “Don’t worry too much. Unlike the others, I always give contenders a fair chance, and death is never the price of losing.”

  Way too used to dealing with humans. “Is the price of losing a curse?” She asked, even when sure of the answer.

  “Indeed.” He said.

  How long could she stay in Cardomos’ pocket dimension? … She could wring Dianthus dry of magic to power it, since the guy had insisted on remaining there.

  And shake the Corruption of Fate until it spilled everything about the one-eyed curse.

  But then, the Deriliam made a clicking noise, calling for her attention.

  “Knowledge witches have this… perk. Whether it’s their memories or dreams, they don’t lie. They recreate everything down to perfection, down to the last detail. From the smell of the earth to the number of leaves in every single tree.”

  “Their memories are so honest that they make note of reflecting all of themselves, down to the undertones of the flavor and texture of their own blood.”

  Velvet flinched, taking another step back, biting her tongue so as to not curse the Father of Curses. Dammit, he was right. Unused to deal with enemies in her dreams, she had ignored the weakness of Knowledge mages. The fact that enemies could use her own memories against her.

  “So don’t bother running or hiding away. The Night Hunt is long, and there’s always time for catching runaway prey.”