Yseult almost dropped the phone. “What?!” She shouted. 

“I don’t think the demon—“

“I heard what you said,” Yseult interrupted Derych. “B-but how?”

“I don’t know how.” Derych replied, his voice growing quiet. “I thought we had it taken care of.”

“Well, what makes you think it’s still there?” Yseult questioned. “She hasn’t… ki—“

“No, no, nothing like that yet.” Derych cut her off. “But she’s having excruciating pain around her uterus, she’s terribly lethargic, she’s hallucinating and talking to things that aren’t there… and the anger.” Derych’s voice cracked, as if he was going to cry. “I have never seen her get so angry. She hasn’t used any magic on me, but she’s tried to hit me!”

Yseult was shocked. Gracelynn was never violent. Something had to be wrong. Maybe it was the demon…

“If we don’t do something… the demon will be born into flesh… through my child.” Derych’s breathing was growing heavier. “Yseult, I need you to come to Germany. We live in Baden-Baden. Near France.” Derych’s voice was stern, yet full of desperation. “We need you.”

“I…” Yseult’s voice trailed off, and her body trembled. She wanted to yell at Derych, scream at him for all the pain he had caused her. She was so hurt, but as angry as she was, she missed him and Gracelynn terribly. Despite her grievances, she knew she had to help them.

“Y-yeah, sure, I’ll come.” She said.

“Good! Good.” A bit of temporary relief came from Derych. “Do you have contact with Professor Kassmeyer?”

Yseult looked toward her room, pausing a moment before answering. “I have the communication stone she gave me.” Yseult answered.

“That’s great. Bring that, we’ll need her.” Derych said. 

“Alright. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Yseult told him. 

“Okay. See you soon.” Derych quickly hung up.

Yseult stumbled over to the chair at the kitchen table and collapsed into it, her head spinning. How could this be happening? After they had exorcised the demon… how could it be back? And it was threatening the life of her old friends’ unborn baby?

Yseult felt sick to her stomach, but she knew she couldn’t waste any time. She opened up her phone and quickly shot her parents a text, letting them know she had some things to take care of. Next, it was time to call her work.

The phone rang as Yseult called her manager. Anxiety coursed through her cold veins as she ran through excuses in her mind. Eventually her manager picked up.

“Hello, Yseult?” He greeted.

“I won’t be in for a while,” Yseult started, running her fingers through her blonde hair. “There’s been, uh, a family emergency.”

“How long is a while?” Her manager responded.

Yseult paused. She actually didn’t know the answer. She was going into the situation blindly; she didn’t know how bad it was, if it were as bad as before…

Not hearing a response, her manager gave an audible sigh. “Alright, Yseult. Keep me posted. I hope everything is okay.”

“Thank you.” She responded, before hearing a click on the other line from her manager hanging up.

After the call was over, she jumped to her feet and began packing. She didn’t know how long to pack for, so she shoved in as many necessities in her bag as she could fit. Once her bag was full, she turned to the stone on the dresser.

It was quite large, something she couldn’t reasonably bring with her on a plane. Not that she had the money for a plane anyway…

Grabbing an extra bag, she gently placed the stone in it and slung it over her shoulder. It was heavy, but she didn’t complain. She had to get to Germany fast.

Her mind thought of the most economical

ways she could get to Germany quickly. Airplane was out of the question, trains were also expensive…

Yseult knew her answer.

Her eyes trailed to the hallway closet, and she silently groaned. She had no other choice— she had to fly on her broom.

Opening the closet door, she pulled her broom out, running her hand down the wooden shaft. It had been a long time since she had ridden her broom; she couldn’t remember when she rode it last. Everything Yseult needed was accessible by foot or car, so she never had the need to ride her broom. Besides, it always reminded her of the fond memories she had, flying around campus with her friends at Seithr Relic Academy…

She shook the thoughts from her head, turned off the lights and walked out the front door, locking it behind her. She had everything she needed, or at least she thought. She didn’t really know.

Straddling the broom, Yseult took a deep, shaky breath. She recited a spell to herself, one that hadn’t escaped her lips in ages. Her feet lifted off the ground, and she hesitantly took off, heading toward Germany.

It would be a long ride.

***

It was night when Yseult arrived in Baden-Baden. The town’s lights were stark against the forested hills on each side, and the smell of the thermal spas filled her nostrils. It seemed like a beautiful town, but Yseult knew she wasn’t here to enjoy it.

She followed the directions on her phone, which took her to the edge of the large valley. The directions led her to a small cottage, tucked away in a grove of Black Forest trees. Landing in front of the cottage, she adjusted her bag, which had been wearing her shoulder down. She gave a large sigh.

“Here I go,” she whispered to herself.

She walked along the path that led to the front door, which was illuminated by a bright porch light. Yseult paused before reaching the door, taking a deep breath.

A low croak sounded beside her. Turning her head, she spotted a large carrion crow perched on a rock. Its beady eyes stared Yseult down before letting out another caw. Not paying much attention, Yseult forced her feet to carry her to the door.

She hesitantly rapped on the door, and her heart raced with anxiety. She half hoped no one would answer the door, that this was all some elaborate prank. Somehow, that would hurt less than what she was feeling at the moment.

Yseult heard the door unlock, and someone opened the door. It was Derych.

In the decade since she last saw him, she swore he had grown a foot. His rich blonde hair was messy as ever, and his bright green eyes met with hers. So much about him had changed, but she still knew it was him.

“Hello Yseult,” he said. 

“Hello Derych,” she said back.

“Come inside.” He stepped aside and gestured to her to come in. Yseult walked in, looking around at the room she was in. It was cozy and warm, although a tension hung in the air. Derych closed the door behind them, and in the light of the living room, Yseult got a good look at his face. Dark bags hung underneath his eyes.

“You can put your stuff on the table.” Derych avoided eye contact as he pointed to the table. Yseult nodded her head, setting her full bag on the table and resting her broom up against the chair. She then turned to Derych, trying to hide how awkward she felt.

“Gracelynn is in our bedroom,” Derych said. “I, uh, don’t mind if you go in.” 

Yseult didn’t respond, and Derych took her down the hallway to their bedroom. The door was closed, and he gently knocked to let Gracelynn know he was there.

“Sweetheart, she’s here.” Derych said softly, tenderness and worry in his voice. Yseult scowled at hearing the word “sweetheart”; back in Seithr Academy, she never pictured Derych and Gracelynn would become a couple.

Derych slowly opened the door, quickly rushing to Gracelynn’s side and kneeling beside her, grabbing her hand. Yseult got a good look at Gracelynn, and what she saw surprised her.

Gracelynn was lying in bed, and despite a visible baby bump, she looked fairly emaciated. Her cheekbones were prominent, casting stark shadows against her sickly pale skin. Her eyes were sunken in her head, dull and lacking fervor. Yseult almost felt sick looking at her.

“H-hi Gracelynn,” Yseult stammered, trying her hardest to keep her voice from wavering.

“Hi Yseult,” Gracelynn replied, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“She brought the communication stone to reach Professor Kassmeyer.” Derych told his wife tenderly. “We’re going to help you, and we’re going to save our baby.”

Gracelynn winced, clutching the bedsheets. She groaned through her gritted teeth, and Derych covered his face, his body shaking. Yseult could only watch as Gracelynn writhed in agony.