"Mr. Chavez."
Inside his room, Rilian kept on hearing the faceless girl's voice on and on, like it was on loop. He checked his phone and found a notification that Yarin had already confirmed his request.
"Finally," he muttered, then he quickly messaged her:
"Hey, hey, hey! This is getting worse. Last night, it was just a sensation. Right now I could literally feel her embracing me. Help!"
"Wow! So even Corrupted Aethers are captivated with the Prince of Narnia. Lol!"
Rilian scowled at his screen and typed:
"Hey, I'm serious here. I felt like I'm going crazy."
"Maybe you're just imagining things? I destroyed that Corrupted Aether."
"I know when I'm imagining things. This is different. And she keeps on saying, 'Mr. Chavez'."
"That's the music teacher, right?"
"Yes, do you know that he's been missing? Authorities went to his house and found that it's all wrecked."
Minutes passed before she replied:
"I think we should check it out, there might be Corrupted Aethers involved. Can we meet?"
"Where? And wait, why us?"
"You forgot? I'm stuck with needing you. You're the Aether Vessel."
"I'll ask Mom if she will let me go out after dinner."
"Mama's boy?"
"I'm not! Okay, maybe the convenience store in front of school?"
"Are you even thinking? Someone might see us. Do you know where Mr. Chavez lives? Somewhere near, maybe."
"I know his house. I'll send you the location. 8:00 p.m.?"
"Okay."
Rilian dropped his phone on the bed and pressed his face on a pillow and groaned.
* * *
Rilian was in the back seat of the taxi, head against the glass, looking at the streaking streetlights across the window.
Just right after he decided to look for Mr. Chavez, the presence and the voice of the faceless girl were gone. It should have been comforting, but his mind raced. It somehow confirmed what he thought, that she really wanted him to find Mr. Chavez. "But why?" he thought.
"We're here, kid," the driver said. "That would be fifty."
He took his wallet, paid his fare, and went out of the taxi.
Across the road, Rilian spotted the familiar house of Mr. Chavez. He had been there twice before, invited by the teacher after learning about his love for jazz. Mr. Chavez had been instrumental in forming their jazz band. But now, the house stood lifeless, a stark contrast to the few distant houses nearby.
"You're late," said a voice from behind.
He turned and saw Yarin, arms crossed, leaning her back against a lamppost.
"Sorry, I had a hard time..." he said.
"Convincing your mom?" she cut him short.
"Is that Mr. Chavez's house, mama's boy?" Yarin nodded towards the single darkened house.
"Yes, it is," Rilian replied. "And I said I'm not a mama's boy."
"Whatever. Let's go," she said, and started crossing the road.
Rilian followed, and just as Yarin reached the gate—a tall iron with spaced bars—she held one hand on one of the bars, pushed herself up and vaulted over in a single, smooth motion.
For a second, he admired the grace as her feet landed without a sound. But the admiration quickly turned to panic.
"Hey, hey, hey, you're trespassing," he said.
She looked at him through the iron bars, brows furrowed. "What are we supposed to do, just watch his house from the outside?"
Rilian glanced around, making sure that no one was watching, then grabbed the bars and started climbing.
He made it without much trouble, but compared to Yarin's effortless vault, he felt completely ridiculous.
"We need to work on those hands and feet," Yarin said without looking as soon as Rilian caught up. "You climbed like an old man."
Rilian did not know how to reply. He just rubbed the back of his neck and followed Yarin's gaze.
A paper was taped to the front door: Property Under Investigation.
Yarin gripped the doorknob. Her hand glowed faintly gold, and with a soft snap, the lock gave way.
The door creaked as Yarin pushed it open, and a stench of rotting food quickly rolled out. She tapped her hand against the wall beside the door—a soft click sounded and the lights flickered on.
"You think Mr. Chavez did this?" Rilian said, looking all over the wrecked living room.
The chairs were overturned, boxes and papers scattered, bottles littered across the floor. The television screen was shattered, and the telephone dangled from the edge of a small table.
But what really caught their attention were the deep gouges in the walls—four long scratches, carved again and again, as if an enormous beast had torn through the room.
And the piano—it was ripped apart, shattered beyond recognition if not for the ivory keys scattered around.
Yarin raised her right hand to the side, fingers clutching an invisible object. A long, golden glow formed and solidified into a scythe.
She pointed the scythe at the scratches on the walls and then at the shattered piano.
"There was a Corrupted Aether here," Yarin remarked.
"Is it possible for Corrupted Aethers to take humans with them?" Rilian asked.
She shook her head and started walking, pointing the tip of the scythe on the floor as if following unseen marks.
"The scratches on the walls were from a Corrupted Aether," Yarin said.
Then she pointed the scythe toward a door at the far end of the living room. "It went there."
"How did you know?" Rilian asked.
"I told you I can see aether glows. There are aether marks on the walls and on the floor."
She reached out a hand to him. "Want to see?"
Rilian hesitated, then slowly held her hand. His vision flickered erratically—then he saw what she was seeing. The long scratches on the walls were glowing with faint violet. And on the floor were long streaks—not footprints but two long smudges, leading to the door Yarin had pointed to.
Yarin released his hand and started walking towards the far-end door.
"Hey, I… forgot to tell you," Rilian said, catching up to her. "When the authorities forced their way in here, there were no signs that someone had broken in."
Yarin didn't answer. She opened the door, and the wind suddenly rushed in. The door led to a backyard.
"That confirms what I'm thinking," she said gravely.
"What?"
"The Corrupted Aether, it's—" Yarin said.
She stepped outside, her eyes scanning the broken fences.
"Mr. Chavez."