Gathered around the large formation circle, Olan and the others watched as Kanon and Gazz stepped into it, moving lightly between the lines to arrive respectively at their assigned circles.

  The process began very quickly. The others brought out the items recently used by their targets—a wine glass and a bloodied napkin. They placed both items on the smallest circles arranged before the ones occupied by Kanon and Felan.

  “Boss,” Mel approached. “We need the item with you.”

  Olan grimaced and then stretched out his right hand. Purple light flashed, heralding the… item that appeared a moment later in his hand.

  The room went instantly still as everyone turned to look at him. The others wore looks ranging from surprise to confusion as they stared at him. Only Felan appeared horrified, limbs trembling as his eyes flickered between Olan and the others to the door.

  “Uhh, boss,” Mel arched an eyebrow, “that's an odd item you've got there.”

  Olan looked down at the head—a real life severed head— held in his grip, severed neck still bleeding blood as unseeing eyes stared back at him.

  “Why do you have a severed head, Olan?” Kanon cocked his head.

  “I killed her,” Olan replied. Wasn't it obvious?

  “Yes, I—we, can see that. Why did you kill and bring the severed head of this young lady?”

  “Oh,” Olan shrugged, “she was his favorite plaything.”

  “Oh celestials!” Someone swore. “We wanted an item, Olan! An actual inanimate object! What's a severed head supposed to do?”

  “You asked for an object with a karmic link to our target,” Olan passed the head off to Mel, ignoring her as she scrambled to keep the thing from falling from her hand. “I brought you the closest thing to a karmic object I could acquire.” He turned to Kanon. “Will it work?”

  “Well, uhh, it should?”

  “You don't sound certain.”

  “Well, forgive me for not having the thought of using a severed head as a focal point to find somebody. Oh gosh, I can't believe it crossed my mind.” He rolled his eyes. “The head will work, more than the rest, now that I think about it. Though I still wonder why you couldn't just convince her to do it willingly.”

  “Wait, that's possible?”

  “Of course it is,” Kanon smirked. “In fact, live people are better links than inanimate ones, considering all the karmic lines still flowing between them. I imagine it'll work even better if it's a loved one.”

  An idea immediately crossed Olan’s mind, a way to find someone all their efforts had failed to catch for the past few months, but now was not the time. He sighed and grunted, rubbing his head. He could already feel a headache coming. “Enough talk, let's begin.”

  “Um,” somebody said and Olan turned to Felan. The young man was trembling as he glanced at the head in Mel's hand, then at Olan, and finally at the door. “I don't think I'm up for this, guys. My cat," he licked his lips, "my cat is sick and um, and I've got to go take care of her.” His knees shook.

  Olan stared at the young man, “You'll do that once the job is done. It won't take long.”

  He opened his mouth to speak again, likely to argue his case, but Mel's hand fell on his shoulder then, her bright smile once more making its way to the fore; however, it now had a dangerous edge to it.

  “Stay a while, handsome. Like boss said, it ain't gonna take much time. You peek in and out, and then we're done, and you can go home to your pretty little cat and take care of her all you want. Oh, and you'll also have gold!” She jiggled a pouch filled with coins to the man's face. “Don't you like gold?”

  The war between money and his life was fought on the young man's face, and to the surprise of no one, money came out the victor. Felan nodded and with a little bit of visible trepidation, turned back down to the circle he was standing on.

  With everybody in place, Kanon ignited the formation. There was no physical tell. One moment, all was calm; the next, the atmosphere thrummed as energy was funneled into the formation.

  Slowly, it began glowing as more energy was funneled in, rising brighter by the second as it drank in gulps and gulps of power, until its light had become near blinding.

  A pulse of energy rippled outwards when the energy funneled into the formation reached its full potential. Like a ripple on the surface of a pond, it spread outwards, sending those standing on the edge staggering backwards. There was no way a formation like this would've gone undetected; the sheer energy rolling out of it was enough to whip the senses of every lord and King in a hundred-mile radius. Thankfully it was contained to the warehouse.

  Olan nodded at their fifth teammate, Sirm. “Your construct seems to be working.”

  “Yes it does,” the other man pushed his monocles back up his nose. “Though not for long.”

  Olan frowned in confusion and the man explained. “The construct was not created to last for a long period of time. It can't even if I wanted. Very soon, it will reach its full drinking in the energy flowing out of the formation, and all the components deep in its belly will fry up.”

  “But that would only happen if Kanon isn't done by then, right?”

  “Correct.”

  Olan grimaced and turned back to the activity at hand. By now the others were already deep into it. Felan's eyes were deeply closed and steady as his mind drifted off, following the connections between the links and their intended targets.

  The light suffusing the outer layer of the formation seemed to flow in, like water on an artificial path. It flowed between the lines, first pouring into the tiny circles holding the karmic items, each of which was then endowed with the golden glow of Divination. The objects shone and the lights from their circles moved deeper, flowing from them and straight towards the larger circles housing the Diviners. The moment their circles began to glow, Gazz got to work, and a vivid replica of the diviners views were projected above the circle for everyone to see.

  Olan immediately noticed a discrepancy the moment the illusion appeared. He turned to Kanon.

  “Two? Why are there two? There should be three links.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The other man shook his head, a frown on his face. “Something’s wrong. The last line… something seems to be blocking it.”

  “What is it?”

  “I… I don't know,” his brows furrowed deeper.

  “Can you get anything? Something we can use to pinpoint what this is?”

  Kanon shook his head. “No, nothing. I can't find any thread to latch on to. The karmic item might as well be useless.”

  “Should we cancel, boss?” Mel turned to him.

  Olan thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “Kanon already confirms that the link doesn't work, which I assume is a two-way street. Whatever is blocking the connection can't get to us,” he turned to Kanon. “Am I right?”

  The diviner nodded. Olan believed him, but Mel, on the other hand, was not so easily assured.

  “You sure?” She asked. “I ain't ready to fight whatever creature's strong enough to blind you, Kanon.”

  “I am,” Kanon assured. “The connection was not made in the first place, so whoever is on the other side should be unaware of our attempt.”

  Mel cocked her head. “Okay, if you say so. Though I'll be taking position behind the stacked crate over there,” she pointed at a distance of roughly forty meters from where they stood. “Any problem and pray I shoot their brains out before they attack.”

  Olan grunted but didn't stop her. There was no such thing as a concrete assurance in their line of business. A wrongly placed trust could bring just about anybody down. With a sigh, he turned his focus back on the projected illusion.

  Felan stood in front of a wall of darkness, like a mist front. It blotted out the view in caset lay beyond, completely covering everything beyond in drifting black smoke, leaving them in mystery as to what was on the other side.

  Kanon, on the other hand, stood right at the outskirts of a vast devastated landscape. Thunder rumbled heavily above the skies of the illusion, shaking the inside of the warehouse with cataclysmic power.

  “Is this normal?” He asked.

  “For individuals with powerful protectors, yes.” The other man sighed. “I can't get through this. I'd be fried to crisps before I reached the other side.”

  Olan grimaced but understood. The rumbling thunder, scary in its roaring, was the least of their problems. Over the crimson landscape flickered tongues of deep red lightning, countless in numbers as they sought eternally for the ground. Vast craters littered the landscape, so huge and numerous that the vast landscape had more craters than flatland.

  A single one of those lightning bolts could deal devastating injuries to even a Spirit King, Olan was not taking any chances. There was risk and then there was this.

  He turned to the other view, watching as ‘the nightwatcher’—Felan—stared out into the eerie landscape of darkness. Oddly enough, Olan found this more terrifying than the other view.

  The fear of the unknown had been a major source of terror since the dawn of time. And darkness ruled it.

  It wasn't because of what hid inside of it, but because it made you wonder what else might be waiting just beyond your sight.

  Olan moved to call out the boy—the attempt was a dud. They'd scrap this and find another way—but was stopped when Kanon raised his hand to stall him.

  “Carry on, good sir.”

  Either because of a deep lack of self-preservation, or because of the pouch of gold likely juggling within his mind, Olan didn't know.

  Silence enveloped the room, and with bated breath everyone watched the young man draw close to the wall of darkness, hand brushing against its surface like he was shifting aside a curtain.

  “'This alright or should I go in?”

  Olan turned to Kanon with a questioning look. The other shrugged, smiled, and then called out to Felan.

  “It's alright, fine Mr, you can go in.” The next words he said were a murmur. “Let's see what's in there.”

  Before Olan could call out a word of caution, Felan had already stepped through, the wall of darkness smoothly parting aside for him like the surface of a black lake.

  Olan didn't remember sucking in a deep breath. He stared with anticipation and a little bit of fear as the young man walked deeper into the land of darkness.

  “Try to look around, sir,” Kanon called and the sheer excitement in his voice made Olan frown. “Take everything in as you go deeper.”

  The place beyond was dark and frankly, in Olan's opinion, scary. He could see nothing, which sent a subtle shiver down his spine. He couldn't imagine how it must have been for the person actually there. There was nothing but darkness, pure and unadulterated primal darkness. Even the glow of man's spirit had completely dimmed, its bright effect reduced to a few inches.

  “This is scary, guys,” Felan whispered shakily. “feels… feels like something’s watching me.”

  “That's just your mind speaking, my good man. Walk on, I'm right behind you.”

  “I swear something's here. I can feel it staring at me.”

  Kanon's reply was soft and reassuring. Olan almost believed him. “Nothing is there, I assure you. This place is simply tricking your mind.”

  “Are you sure?” A slurry voice intoned.

  Everybody paused and Olan's hands stretched out as he summoned his weapon. That voice… it wasn't any that they knew or recognized.

  “Um, guys? Mr. Kanon, was that you?” Felan asked hesitantly.

  “Hmm, Kanon… a name. Unfortunately, one that I can't put a face to yet. You, Felan, on the other hand, are a trespasser."

  A deep voice echoed out from the darkness, and through Felan's peripheral vision, Olan could swear he saw something move.

  Felan staggered backwards and his voice came out stuttered and ragged, filled with terror. “Wha—whats that? Who's there? Sho—show your face.”

  “Mm?” The voice drawled, dark excitement thick within it. “As the lord demands.”

  A patch of darkness seemed to recede then, clearing a bit to reveal the form of a ghostly pale human.

  The man, barely past his twenties, was toned for someone with such deathly features. His dark hair drifted roughly in a stylish manner, twin strands hanging over equally dark eyes.

  A dreadful aura preceded him, and Olan felt a cold wind brush against his spine as he drew closer, the darkness parted for him as he raised pale fingers to cup Felan's chin.

  “I know someone hides behind those eyes,” Huiron Saulae said. “I could pull you out if I wanted, but that would be a monumental waste of time. Why chase after someone who will eventually come for you?”

  Felan trembled in his grip, and if the young man had been in his physical body, Olan imagined he'd have pissed his pants by now.

  “Plea–please spare me,” the young man stammered, voice an ocean of terror. “My cat… My cat is sick and alone. Please, please let me go, I swear I won't come here again.”

  The scion of the great family Saulae cocked his head, “I do love cats, and I'd hate to see one lose its owner, especially during trying times.” He tutted. “But you came to me. Or were you unaware of the consequences of stepping into a seer's welcome?”

  Through the young scion’s eyes, Olan could see the confusion written on Felan's face. The other man realized instantly.

  “Ahh, you poor poor fool, you're a throwaway.” He chuckled. “You were used as a buffer Incase of this.”

  Already, smoke was leaking out of the circle as it fought to contain the power of the land of darkness. Olan knew that the containment construct they'd installed earlier was already on its last legs. If this continued it would explode, drawing the attention of every Spirit lord and King in this corner of the city.

  He turned to Kanon, about to call, but was halted when the man raised a finger to his lips. Olan nodded and turned to Sirm who stood beside him. He gestured at the circle and twirled his finger around in the air.

  The man understood and brought out another construct, this one smaller, an indicator of sort that measured how much more power it would take before the containment field collapsed.

  Thirty seconds, Sirm signalled and Olan grimaced. Thirty seconds was too long, especially when it came to someone like Huiron. The young scion had been stated to ramble on and on pointlessly without stopping.

  Olan gestured at Kanon and pointed at the circle beneath them. Would it be possible to shut it off prematurely? The other man shook his head.

  They'd have to wait.

  “While I'd love to question you,” the young scion said. He dropped the young freelancer and turned around, darkness moving in to cloud his retreating figure, “I have better things to do. I won't kill you.”

  Felan seemed to sag in relief.

  “... I didn't say you'd live though.”

  Everyone looked on in confusion as the darkness rushed back in, this time with a will of its own. In the blink of an eye, it swallowed Felan, turning the projection completely black.

  They didn't need to wonder for long about what had happened. Like a puppet with its string cut, the body of the young man slumped down onto the ground, erasing a part of the circle and snuffing it out.

  Hesitantly, Olan slowly approached, coming to stand beside Kanon over the dead body.

  On his neck were two pinpricks of black dots— a bite mark. His face turned more grim when black lines began spreading from the mark, flowing through the dead man's veins and painting that side of his body fully black, a darkness that was swift as it flowed through the body at a rapid pace.

  “Burn it, Sirm,” Olan commanded, and the body was immediately engulfed in blue flames.

  "Damn, he ain't gonna get that gold," someone commented.

  Olan turned to Kanon, whose face was also grim. “Do you have it?”

  The other man blinked repeatedly, coming out from whatever mental state he was in.

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” Olan dismissed his weapon. “Pack up, we're leaving.