After his chance encounter with The Holy One, Virgil realized this mystery was getting out of hand. He was in way over his hand, drowning in what had become a server-wide scandal. The sentient needed reinforcements. Sure, he had Clara, but he needed someone tougher, more adept at handling volatile situations- should things get tricky. He needed someone who wasn't directly tied to a government, and he knew exactly who to call. And when he opened the door to Bram's house, he was immediately met with a fierce hug. "Papa! Papa!"

Virgil laughed as he stumbled back from the impact. "Hello, Evelyn. Have you been good for Grandpa Bram?"

The little girl's eyes shined with glee as she clung to her father's leg. She jumped for joy, unable to contain her excitement. "Grandpa!" the girl shouted over her shoulder. "Papa's home!"

"I see that," the old man chuckled. Bram stood in his flowing green robes, slouched against the doorway to the kitchen. He smiled at his son in-law and young grandchild, happy to have them both under one roof again. "Don't worry," he said. "She's just excited to see you."

"I can tell," Virgil cooed. The being crouched down to his daughter's level and pat the child's head affectionately. He adored spending time with the little girl, but there were pressing concerns he needed to be addressed. "Say, Bram? Do you have a minute? I need to speak with you."

"Yeah, sure, Virgil. Something wrong?"

The humanoid sighed as he made his way to the dining room table. "It's been one hell of a mystery trying to figure out who started that fire."

"How so?" Bram asked, joining the distressed humanoid.

"Well," Virgil started, running a stressed hand through his hair, "I went to the prison, and Trojan says he did it. I met Edison in Orfcynn, and find out later that he's in an alliance with Finnegan over something. Turns out Edison, Trojan, Iva, Finnegan, and Jules were all in an alliance to divide up the world into five kingdoms. It's insane!"

Bram hummed in thought and rubbed the end of his chin. "Those are some pretty serious allegations, Virgil. Do you have proof?"

"Yes!" The humanoid exclaimed. "I've seen where Jules has been planning all this. I saw the map that she plans on using for the new kingdoms. Bram, it's really happening. You have to believe me."

The older man sighed. "I do. You've never told a lie before, so why would you start now? I just can't believe it."

"I swear- one lie to break to my heart."

Bram paused for a moment, processing all the new information. "Alright, say this is true. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Virgil admitted. "I don't think dividing the world like how they want to would be a good idea. A lot of people would be forced into new territories. Their lives would be overturned. The Holy One alone would gain a lot of land, and I can't let that happen."

Bram took a solemn tone when he asked, "Are you saying you're going to stop the five kingdoms?"

Virgil nodded. "Yes, I suppose so. It's the only way to keep the peace."

"What about the fire, Virgil? Who started the fire that killed Jules?"

The humanoid's heart tugged at the very mention of his late wife. "I'll figure it out," he resigned. "I'm sure it has something to do with the five kingdoms. Maybe they were cutting Jules out of the deal. I don't know. Either way, I'm going to find out." Virgil came to a stand and smiled. "Thank you, Bram. I guess I just needed to talk it out with someone. You've been very helpful."

"Anytime, my boy. But hey, before you go, someone dropped this off for Jules." The man removed a single envelope from an inner pocket of his robes. "It looks like a letter from King Nicholas." Without another word, Virgil walked up to Bram and snatched the letter right out of his hand, frustration overpowering him. All this uncertainty around his platonic wife was driving Virgil insane; maybe now he'd finally get some answers. The sentient unfolded the single page of parchment, and stared down at the inked words.

"Papa!" The pitter patter sound of little girl feet came running from the living room and down the hall to kitchen. Evelyn clung to her father's pant leg and smiled when she asked, "Papa, when Mama come home?"

The blood in Virgil's veins ran ice cold. Am I imagining this? he thought, bewildered by his son's question. Did Evelyn just ask-? Then, it clicked. The sentient slowly raised his gaze to glower down at his father in-law, his piercing stare freezing the man where he stood. "Did you seriously not tell her about Jules?"

"Wha- How could I tell her what happened?!" Bram spluttered. "She's a child! You know as well as I do that I'm no good with kids." The old man sighed, and lowered his eyes in shame. "I don't want Evelyn to be heartbroken."

Virgil shook his head Bram's heart was in the right place, but ultimately, he was wrong. "Bram, Evelyn needs to know the truth. This is a serious matter, and she deserves to know what happened. It's not like you started the fire-"

"She'll hate whoever tells her!" the elder yelled. "I can't live with that. You and Evelyn are all I have left."

Evelyn pulled on her father's pant leg. "Papa, why is grandpapa upset?"

Virgil took a deep breath before stooping down to the girl's level. "Evelyn, darling, there's something we have to tell you. It's very serious, okay?"

Evelyn nodded. "Okay, Papa."

The humanoid sighed as he tried to find the right words. Maybe this would be harder than he thought. "Baby, there's no easy way to say this. You remember that fire, the one that burned down our house?"

Evelyn nodded again. "Yeah, it was big and scary."

"Yes, it was," Virgil agreed. "Very scary. Well, you know how Papa saved Mama, but then Mama turned into light, just like fireflies?"

The little girl clapped her hands. "Yeah! It was really pretty!"

"Yeah, it was," her father sighed. "When someone turns to light like that, it means they've joined the stars. Mama's a star now, Evelyn. She's not coming back."

Evelyn paused. "No come back?"

"No, no come back. But that's okay, Evelyn, because she's a star in the night sky now, and she's always watching over you to make sure you're okay."

"But- But I want Mama! I miss Mama!"

"Oh, darling-"

Evelyn tore herself out of her father's arms and ran back towards her room. "Mama!" A bedroom door slammed in the distance, and tiny sobs echoed down the hall. Virgil put his hands on his knees and slowly came to a stand. Although it broke his heart to see his daughter cry for her mother, it was for the best that she knew the truth, however difficult it was to hear. He glanced down at the letter in his hand again and cleared his throat. "I have to go," he announced. "Please take care of Evelyn while I'm gone."

Bram couldn't meet Virgil's gaze as the humanoid walked to the door. A tear ran down the elder's cheek. "How could you?"

The humanoid grabbed a coat by the door. "It had to be done." He closed the door quietly behind him. The sentient's shoulders slumped in defeat as he took a shaky breath of the cold, night air. Raising a kid shouldn't be this hard. It was supposed to be easier, full of happy memories and tons of giggles. The minute Jules had died was the minute all that was good in the world had faded. Their family was tearing at the seams, barely able to hold a conversation without hitting a nerve. The humanoid looked down at the envelope he still held in his hands. First thing's first: he had to look into this letter. And after that, he'd save the world. Then, everything would be at peace once again. Yes, someday it would all go back to normal.

The sun had just started to rise over the horizon when Clara had received word from Virgil. According to his letter, Jules had been summoned by King Nicholas under what the monarch called "extraordinary circumstances". Over the past several days, the king had observed the shadows of the castle moving in unusual ways, as if creatures were lurking under the cover of darkness. Nicholas knew of Jules's stellar reputation in all things paranormal, and so, he decided to hire her to investigate. With Jules being out of the picture, and Virgil stating he was off on another task, that left Clara the only one ready and willing to go.

Clara crossed the threshold into the grand throne room, only to be met with silence. The woman cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered, "Hello? Is anybody there? Nicholas?" She glanced around the room, and immediately, her stomach dropped. There, just before the throne, lay the lifeless body of King Nicholas. "Oh, no."

She charged down the red carpet to crouch at the side of the fallen monarch. It wasn't long before she found the cause of the young king's demise: "A stab wound." Indeed, a knife-sized hole had torn through the king's cloak, and he'd been stabbed in the back. The blood had already dried. The woman stooped down low to the body, leaning in so her nose was just inches from the wound. Drawing on her vast knowledge of plants and foliage, a skill all illu hunters should have, she was able to detect the faintest trace of a red-spotted argylian flower, a rare and powerfully poisonous plant. "Weird," she noted. "Who would poison Nicholas?" Clara didn't have to wait long to find out.

From the shadows of the throne room's east wing, wisps of a thick, black fog emerged. They curled through the air, bleeding into the throne room and surrounding the hunters. Clara gulped. "Oh, I don't like the looks of this." An illu didn't have the power to hold man-made objects; there had to be someone working with them. Sure enough, A dark figure pierced the smokey veil and waltzed into the throne room. They walked with a calculated malice, as if they enjoyed making the illu hunter wait in suspense. Once the man finally stepped into the light, Clara clenched her fists in anger. "How dare you dress like him. Do you have no respect for the dead?!"

Finnegan chuckled. "Why, hello to you too, Clara. Surely, it's been a while since we last met."

"I don't know who you are, but you're not Finn," Clara argued, coming to a stand. "Finn is dead, and I watched him die. What kind of sick imposter are you?"

"Imposter? Not quite" the man smirked. "Aren't you going to ask me about the body? I'm just dying to tell you how it happened."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll bite. Why did you kill the one king who brought peace to Fernwick?"

"Peace?" Finnegan scoffed. "Peace is such a relative term these days, don't you think? What I would consider peace probably isn't what you would consider, now, is it?"

The gray-haired beauty narrowed her eyes. "What are you planning?"

"Peace," the man responded. "I'm going to bring peace to this world once and for all." The supposed imposter began to walk around Clara in an arc towards the throne, continuing his monologue. "Yes, there will be no more wars, no more bloodshed." With a sound thump!, the man fell into the plush cushions lining the throne with a smile. "Just peace."

Clara shook her head in disbelief, her braid swaying back and forth. She couldn't believe this guy was dumb enough to repeat history all over again. Was he delusional, or just plain arrogant? "What do you really want from all this?" the woman ventured. "Because there's no way this is going to work. You know that, right? I mean, it's the war all over again! You can't just decide to be ruler over something that isn't yours!"

Finnegan laughed. "But what if I can?" he dared to ask. "What if I can do whatever I want when I want? What if I'm the perfect man for the job?"

"That throne doesn't belong to you!" Clara yelled. "It belongs to Nicholas!"

"It belongs to Trojan!" the crazed man shot back. "Nicholas was nothing more than a pawn while Trojan was in jail, but that will all change soon enough."

Clara's eyes widened in shock. "Don't tell me you- Did you- Are you seriously going to break Trojan out of prison?!"

A wicked smirk spread across Finnegan's face. "Oh, it won't just be me, though. I'm sure my allies wouldn't mind lending a hand or two."

Clara crossed her arms. "Who would want to side with a man who thinks he's Finn?"

"Trojan for starters," Finnegan drawled. "Do the names Edison and Iva ring any bells?"

The woman gasped. This imposter was working with Trojan, Edison, and Iva? With their combined strength and resources, they certainly had the ability to plunge the world into eternal darkness. "Why?" she demanded. "Honestly, why would you work with them? You're all just power-hungry dictators."

"Not all of us," Finnegan corrected. "Shame on you, Clara. You should have been raised better than to judge. Stereotyping isn't nice." With an air of cocky arrogance, the mad man came to a stand. "Trojan is weaker than ever; he doesn't stand a chance at real leadership. Edison is only in it for the money, and when the resources dry up, so will he. And Iva is just a pawn for the Holy One, leaving her vulnerable to attack from neighboring kingdoms. So, that leaves me."

In a strong voice full of resolve, Clara responded. "There's just one problem with that." The woman strode up to the deranged man, a hardened determination swirling in her eyes. "As an illu hunter, I won't let you. You'll have to kill me first."

Finnegan narrowed his eyes, his lips pursing into a tight, thin line. "So be it." With a flick of the wrist, a small, embellished dagger found its home in the man's hand. The second the blade slid out the man's sleeve, Clara smelled the sweet scent of red-spotted argylians. Her eyes widened; this was the dagger that had killed Nicholas. The woman kept her gaze trained on the crazed man, even as he raised the poisoned knife. "Oh, Clara," the ex-revolutionary chuckled, "it truly was never meant to be-"

Suddenly, Finnegan's hand sprung open, causing the knife to clatter on the floor. He gripped his wrist to retain some sense of control, but his world seemed to be falling apart. The man released an agonizing scream as he staggered back, his body wrought with pain. He gasped for air, a black smoke leaking from his mouth. Clara stepped back as she watched the unthinkable take place. Finnegan's head snapped back of its own accord, allowing a steady stream of ebony smoke emanate off his body. A dark, ghostly figure materialized above the man, looming over him in an almost protective stance. Clara couldn't believe her eyes. "An illu!" she shouted.

For some reason, the woman couldn't tear herself away. She was mesmerized by the scene, wondering what would become of Finnegan's imposter. When the last wisps of smoke leaked out of the man, Finnegan's body instantly went slack. He fell to his knees; he would have toppled down the stairs if Clara hadn't caught him. Finnegan's eyes darted around the room for a moment, until they landed on his savior. A look of sheer terror crossed the man's face as he cried, "Clara! Clara, please! Get out of here! You have to go now!"

In that moment, Clara knew this was the real Finnegan. The desperation in the man's voice was the same as the day he'd died in her arms; it had to be him. The illu must have reanimated him when he possessed the deceased body. Surely this was a powerful illu. Clara kissed the man square on the lips as tears escaped her eyes. "Finally, Finn," she sniffled. "Finally, you're back."

"Clara, you don't understand. You have to go!"

"It's gonna be okay. I promise," she whispered, running a hand down the poor man's face. "I'll take care of you."

"No, Clara, you're not listening!" Finnegan shouted. "It was Trojan! Trojan sent the illu after me!" With a wild look in his eyes, he gripped the woman's shoulders and said, "I just wanted to pay my debt!"

"Finnegan!"

But it was too late. The illu had transformed into a thick, black fog, and descended upon its victim. Finnegan fell back against the stairs, twisting and writhing as he struggled against the demonic presence. White-knuckled hands clenched at his hair as he released one, final shriek; the man's body went stiff, then limp, unconscious.

"Finnegan!" Clara reached out for the man, but a wall of fog came in between them. "Mine," a monstrous voice hissed. "He's all mine."

"No!" Clara cried. "He was mine first! I love him!"

"Be gone, lest you suffer a fate worse than his." The fortress of fog in the throne room parted down the middle to reveal the exit. Wisps of smoke continued to sink into Finnegan's helpless body, consuming the poor man with a terrifying evil. Clara gave one last look of longing, then followed the trail back to civilization. In her heart, the woman made a vow she dared not break: I will save you, Finn, if it's the last thing I do.

Longest chapter yet at almost 3000 words! Crazy, right? Almost as crazy as Possessed!Finnegan maybe? Who do we think started the fire now? Lots of questions and still no answers. This mystery's only going to get weirder! Stay tuned!

-Zym