~ The Dark Prophet ~

Their first stop was a magic store.

The store was composed of crooked shelves and uneven wooden tables. Hand-made wooden ladders rested in every corner, reaching up to the high ceiling that matched the height of the shelves. Several candles were scattered about, illuminating the faint objects that decorated the store.

Winter trembled as she held onto Henrik's hand tightly. He was exchanging a few words with the shop owner, who bowed his head before retreating into the back to fetch a few items for them to look at.

"This shop is specifically for magic add-ons," He whispered to her. "Objects that were formed with abnormal magic to enhance one's mana. This kind of stuff is forbidden in the Empire because it could be dangerous."

Winter hugged her cloak tightly around her and nodded. She was too scared to speak.

"I asked him if he had anything that could work as medium," Henrik explained, noticing Winter's uneasiness. "He's going to bring out a few objects that are resistant to high and low temperatures, and mana channeling."

The man emerged from behind a towering shelf with several decorative boxes in his arms. He laid them out on the wooden counter and brought a candle over.

"Do you see anything you like?" Henrik asked her, gesturing to the open boxes on the table.

Winter's eyes scanned the objects that had been laid out before her. It was hard to see through the eye holes of her mask, but she was capable of making out the objects more or less.

There was a necklace with glowing purple beads, a pair of dirty silver gauntlets and even a thick ring with a large green stone. Peregrine had explained to her that a medium would have to be made out of enchanted metal or mana stones, the only two materials that were capable of channeling mana.

Enchantment magic was a form of Black Magic, so it was heavily banned within the Empire. Good quality mana stones, on the other hand, were extremely hard to come by. A good mana stone was so rare that it was considered a treasure within the Empire. Black Magic was used to reinforce weak mana stones, which were much more common.

Winter pointed to a silver baton that was decorated with white crystals. It looked like a delicate tree branch that was sprouting crystal buds. She smiled from behind her mask at the object on the counter.

"Ah," The masked shop owner exclaimed at her pick. "That one is a very good choice, little miss. It was made by them druids. Ya see, the enchantment magic used on it is a pure form. Something bout nature I heard. Rather than dark magic, them items made with pure magic like this are hard to find."

Winter knew he wasn't lying. She felt nauseas at the sight of the other mediums, but the silver branch was an exception. There weren't any signs of corrupted magic coming from it. It felt clean.

"How much?" Henrik asked.

"For these folks here, I'll give ya kiddos a grand deal. Only 1,000 gold coins."

Winter swallowed. 1,000 gold coins? That was equivalent to the cost of a small estate. Just as her hand was reaching for her pouch, Henrik dropped a bag of coins on the counter with a thud. The shop owner rubbed his hands together greedily and stared at the coins in the bag.

"I can pay," She told him in a harsh whisper. "Don't waste your money."

Henrik let out a low chuckle. "It's fine, don't worry."

"Pleasure doing business with ya," The masked man laughed while packing up the baton. "Don't be strangers next time ya folks come 'round. If ya need anything, feel free to drop by."

He slid the box over to Winter, who grabbed it with a shaky hand.

The man hesitated upon seeing her trembling hand. "Ya both better be careful out there. This place is dangerous, not everyone will be nice to ya in these parts here. It's best if ya kiddos stayed on the main street, don't be taking strolls down no alleyways, ya hear me?"

Winter nodded and bowed her head as a sign of thanks.

"Good," The masked man said with a sigh. "Go get yer business done quick and hurry home."

Henrik thanked the man before pulling Winter out of the store with a firm grip. Winter kept her eyes down and studied the uneven stones of the street as they walked. The presence of black magic around them was insanely strong and weighed down heavily on her shoulders.

"How did you find this place?" She asked him as they walked.

Peregrine had mentioned that the Black Market was being pursued relentlessly by the Empire. If it was so hard to shut down, then why did Henrik have such an easy time bring them here?

"The Black Market uses magic to ward off un-welcomed guests," He explained in a quiet voice. "Simply put, if you have the intention of entering in order to buy stuff then you'll be fine. The barrier spells here keep out guests who intend to do otherwise."

Winter wanted to ask more questions, but she felt as if she was going to throw up from the presence of Black Magic. She forced her lips shut and focused on her laces until they reached their next destination.

Their next stop was a bookstore. Winter squinted her eyes through her mask and scanned their surroundings. The bookstore's appearance mimicked that of the magic shop, except instead of objects there were now old dusty books on the shelves.

"If you want to learn about Black Magic, we should find you a book about it and not a book on how to use it." He talked while running his free hand along the books on a shelf. "Black Magic spell books are heavily coated with Black Magic, so it'll be found within seconds."

Winter sighed, thinking about what she would do if she was being accused of using Black Magic.

"This," He explained while pulling out a thin book from the shelf. "This is what you need."

Winter glared at it in the darkness.

[The Origin of the Devil]

She shuddered slightly after reading the faded lettering on the leather cover.

"Read this and make sure you're well-informed for next time we meet."

"Next time?"

Henrik nodded. "We're partners in crime now, right? Nobody else believes that the Laurentes are connected to the usage of black magic except for me. You and I can help each other out. You be my eyes and ears inside the palace and I'll help you everywhere else."

Winter thought about his words. Even though she had sent someone to investigate the Marquis' estate, the probability of them finding solid evidence was slim to none. Furthermore, she had tried to talk to Etrix and Ezekiel about investigating noble families and they had automatically shut it down. Both her brothers and her father wouldn't support her claims either. She had no other choice except for Henrik.

Winter nodded after thinking it through. "Deal."

She watched as he plucked a few more books from the shelves for his own research purposes. The pair headed to the counter, where Winter now paid for his books as well as her own.

"You said you wanted to see a prophet, right?" Henrik asked her as they exited the store.

"Yeah, if those exist here."

"Prophets get their visions from the gods. The prophets here are a bit different. They get their visions from-"

"The devil?"

Henrik sighed. "Sort of and no at the same time. While their source is definitely not the gods, it's not the devil either. Rather than that, they get their information from directly contacting evil spirits."

"Is it dangerous?"

"I'm not sure. Some people say that Dark Prophets bring curses and omens rather than visions. Their visions always predict dark things and the dark things always happen to the victim. It's sort of like they make it happen."

"What if I wasn't going to ask about the future?"

Henrik stopped. "You're going to find out about your fated death?"

Winter nodded. "If the gods want me dead so badly, then I need to find out if there's a way I can avoid it. I also need to know if being alive is going to hurt Aiden. This is something I can't turn to the gods for."

Henrik paused, thinking about her words. He didn't want any harm to befall Winter. He most definitely didn't want a Dark Prophet to predict a dark future for her. But the words Winter spoke made perfect sense. Right now no one knew anything about the omen of death that was tied to her body.

"Okay," He said softly, "But if you get a bad prediction, I'll kill them before they can finish speaking."

~***~

The black curtains smelt of cigar smoke and mold. It was a scent that Niana had grown dependent on since she lost her vision. She followed the scent, letting the curtains that hung over every wall and window guide her around her shop.

"Mother," Her daughter called out to her, helping her find a spot in a comfy seat. "Mother, it looks like customers are coming this way."

Just like her, her daughter Rubika was born with the ability to communicate with evil spirits. It was an ability widely labeled as evil and ominous. The mother and daughter were cast out of their village, labeled as evil witches and stoned half to death.

"Rubika," Niana said, releasing her daughter's guiding hand. "Please bring some beverages for the guests."

When the bell rung softly and the shop door opened, the familiar scent of the curtains had been overpowered by the smell of metal. It was a smell so foul and bitter, Niana wished she had lost her ability to smell instead of see. It was the smell of death.

"You reek of death," Her old voice sounded out to the customers. "I assume that is why you are here."

"Yes," A young and timid voice replied to her.

Niana was taken aback by the voice that answered her. "Rubika, tell me whose speaking to me right now."

"M-Mother," Rubika answered in a hushed whisper, setting down four glasses of water. "It's, it's a child."