Aylin admired the demonic, crouching gargoyle, its wings arched back menacingly as it guarded the entrance with a scowl. Ser Felstrum's residence was the only three-story house on the block, and adorned with lavish woodwork reliefs along the elm base. The stench of rot already pervaded from inside, along with another scent.

It appeared he lived alone, for his decorations were sparse and no one else was home as she tentatively entered the gory scene. Closing the door behind her, she immediately discovered the source of the other scent, for there were ample rosemary garlands hanging around the inner door frame. Unfortunately rosemary's adverse affects to evil creatures was just a common myth. The bloody, torn up body seemed to lay as it had when he died, sprawled across the pine floor threshold between his kitchen and the entryway. By his orientation it looked like he was fully aware of his attacker beforehand, had maybe even held a conversation, and was trying to escape from the inevitable towards the door.

Seems like they're getting bolder. But why? Taunting? Feel like they already have the merchants under their control? She knelt down beside the corpse, observing the deep gashes along his arms, neck, and torso. Amidst all the gouges on his back were messy, unidentifiable bite marks - meaning they were hungry, and not just going for a kill. Peeling back his shredded, blood-stained coat, she checked his pockets, finding only a scuffed pocket watch. Checking over the rest of his body, she discovered an empty sword sheath on his side. Why wouldn't he have the sword on him? Especially if he was so worried about being killed...

She began searching the rest of the residence for more clues as well as the weapon. If Felstrum spent a lot of his time here, it wasn't apparent by the dust blanketing almost every surface, even clinging to the glass of his oil lamps. From the ample cobwebs and overall musty odor, it seemed like he must've practically lived at work. He didn't have many friends over, that was for sure. The railing leading upstairs was one of the few places where the dust was brushed away from use.

Unlike the other rooms, his bedroom was well-kept with an opulent canopy bed embellished with red silk curtains, a tall armoire, and polished mahogany furniture. At the dresser in his room she found a peculiar letter, written in slanted hand.

I wonder if he went to the meeting?  The paper had no wax seal, but was written on grimy parchment. NightSun Dock. Rolling up the letter and taking it with her, she sifted through the other papers on the dresser and checked the armoire for his sword, but found no other evidence.

Buried at the bottom of the armoire however was a plain, unassuming lock-box she nearly overlooked. Hefting it onto her lap, she pulled a pin from her belt and meticulously worked to spring it open. She realized after a few minutes of picking with frustration that it was more complex than her skill and simple tools could handle. Gripping the lock, she tugged with a steady jerk of her arm, and the metal snapped away. So much for stealthy finesse.

Flipping the lid open, her stomach cart-wheeled, eyes widening in shock. There must be at least fifty-thousand seltrins in here! she mused, mind reeling through her possible scenarios. Ser Felstrum's family, if he had one, didn't seem to be a part of his life but if they realized she had stolen from him, it would be a heinous crime. Anyone had to admit that she needed it more than the corpse downstairs, but she didn't know if some needy family would come looking for it and get her in trouble. Despite the degrading compensation the merchants had initially offered, this surprise made her mission entirely worthwhile. Feeding as many seltrins into her pouches as possible - without them being overly engorged - she took the broken lock to be disposed of, and replaced the box in the armoire as if nothing had happened.

As for the clues found, unless the other merchants knew anything more, this investigation seemed to be at somewhat of a dead end. The next step would be dangerous, but necessary. She had to interrogate the merchants one-by-one and eliminate any that revealed their true nature. That is, if they would even cooperate with being interrogated.

Exhaling a soft sigh, she returned downstairs to inspect the body one more time. As she stepped over it to the other side, she noticed something she hadn't seen before - a few drops of blood in the kitchen, a ways away from where his body fell. She had assumed the blood was his, but now paced out the distance to find that it was at least seven steps away from where he fell. What if he had managed to get in a blow on the attacker, since it seemed he had warning? He was a knight after all, and had been trained in fighting and defense. With the amount of lacerations on him, it was pretty unlikely that he had walked that distance without a drop of blood falling from him before falling where he currently lay.

Entering the kitchen to get a closer look at the blood, she noticed a hearth at the back wall, the last embers still cooling inside and an over-boiled pot of stew hanging above them. There was a back door in the corner of the room, and her heart fluttered with excitement as another few crimson droplets caught her eye, leading toward the door. An escape trail was the best thing she could've hoped for. Kneeling at the drops closest to the door, she brushed her fingers over one and lifted it to her nose, drawing in the scent. It had the cloying earth smell distinctive to all monsters' blood. Glancing around to make sure she hadn't overlooked anything, she headed out the back door.

Ser Felstrum had a small secluded backyard, which was an odd commodity for any house, let alone one at a busy sea port city. Beyond the path leading through wild weeds there was an arbor overhang shading neat rows of various vegetables, and a fence surrounding the whole area. It would be tough to discern a spot of dried blood in the weeds at this point, so she made her way around the fence's perimeter. Near the back corner she spotted what she was hoping for - a splatter of droplets against the weathered posts as the injured monster climbed over. From there though she merely had a general direction to go by, as only one last prick of red could be distinguished on the mossy overgrown hill behind his house, bringing an ending to the trail. Beyond that the monster's light footprints were lost at the cobblestone road on the other side of the hill.

Climbing the steep incline and over the speckled rock ridge, she brushed off the bloodstains from her fingertips on the dewy shrubs covering the ground. A soothing gust of wind immediately washed over her as she crested the hill. She took a moment to close her eyes and relax her tense muscles, sensing the air sweeping around her. A storm was rising, tingling softly against her skin despite the sunny, cloudless day.

The sprawling rooftops were like large mossy steps below her. It was actually her first clear view of the ocean since she had arrived in Sulistrade. The city was built on slanted land weaving over and around moss-covered hills leading down to the coastline, but the surrounding terrain had sheer drop-off cliffs pressed against the ocean.

A flitting gleam caught her eye from below. Turning her head and shifting her weight slightly until it shone through the thorny gooseberry bushes again, the glimmering source became apparent and she carefully trekked down to it. Her fingers raked through the leaves and thorny branches until they pulled out the silver button with a swirling design on it, painted black between the crevices. The metal was dark silver with a bright luster, warm to the touch. Aluminum, not real silver. If it had been real silver the monster probably would've opted not to wear whatever it came from to avoid being burned. Not many people would ever walk this path, and the button was only a few feet from the last bit of blood, so she justified that it was hugely likely to be the murderer's. Finally, some stable evidence that could lead her to a culprit.

Once night descended she would return to the entrance of his house and wait until all traces of sunlight were swept from the heavens. Only then would the nocturnal gargoyle shed its stone skin and wake, and she would be ready to interrogate. There was a good chance he had witnessed the murder and even tried to defend his master. Until then, Aylin wouldn't waste time dawdling around the crime scene - there was still much she wanted to see and do.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for reading! Looks like some big events are looming on the horizon =)  If you enjoyed this chapter, please remember to vote! Any feedback or support is very much appreciated ❤