Ophelia looked out the window. She wasn't sure whether she was seeing things or was actually being stalked by someone. She slowly approached the window without turning on the lights and looked out.

It was still there—a black, luxurious car. She didn't get the license plate, but she was sure she'd seen it from time to time throughout the day.

Well, almost sure.

Someone was sitting in the car. Whether they were looking at her or that was another part of her imagination, she didn't know.

After some time, she finally moved away from the window and went to get ready for sleep, her thoughts drifting to the changes in her life. Her lessons were going well. She had managed to learn how to use the talismans given to her by Sam and even activate them with her consciousness without needing to tear the paper.

But the biggest improvements she felt were in fighting, as she could sense her movements becoming more fluid and deadly with each day. She also felt the connection to the snake strengthen. She could sense its feelings now, which beamed directly into her brain and sometimes mixed with hers. There were moments she could even hear its words, moments like this one.

"Worry?" asked the creature.

"Yeeep," she spoke aloud. Sam didn't teach her about the inner world, so she communicated by talking, hoping the snake could hear her.

"Kill worry?" asked the snake in an innocent voice.

Ophelia winced. It sometimes felt like she had a miniature Sam whispering ideas into her ear.

"We'll see," she said.

She wanted to say "no," but she wasn't that naive girl from a few weeks ago.

She checked the doors and windows once again and went to sleep. The next day, Ophelia woke up and immediately went to look outside. The car was gone.

'So was it my imagination after all?' she thought.

Sighing, she took a while to relax her worried mind, focusing on the warm emotions flowing from the creature inside her, and began her morning routine.

Once ready to leave to meet the mushroom, she fastened a sheath with the rapier to her belt, took the two tomes on magic she'd been left with, and went on her way to the training grounds. It was an hour's drive.

She'd bought a car—a barely functional one, but it did work, so she was happy with it. The cats offered to buy her a better one, but she refused, wanting to be her own person. Now she slightly regretted that.

It was around the middle of the drive to the forest when she noticed a black car following her.

They stayed around two cars behind. While not sure it wasn't her imagination, she couldn't allow anyone to reach the forest where she had her lessons.

Or maybe she was paranoid. After all, she didn't take the license plate yesterday. She looked at the navigation on her phone and picked a different road. It led her through side alleys, sometimes taking a wrong turn on purpose. After some meandering, she'd driven in a large circle, making sure the route didn't make sense for anyone trying to get somewhere.

She then stopped at a parking lot and waited, looking for the black car.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Then, after half an hour, she finally sent a message to Myhur that she would be late.

But no black vehicle came.

She exhaled slightly as she made her way to her car and started the drive back to the training grounds.

Ophelia was still uneasy about the whole thing. The sensation of eyes on her back was present and wouldn't go away. She wanted to ignore it, but just as she was about to turn onto the forest road leading to the hut, she saw the car further down the road, keeping its distance.

The moment she saw that, she straightened the wheel and drove deeper into the forest, finally stopping at a small parking area by a forest trail. She thought about just driving back home or running to hide, but the problem wouldn't go away. She was aware of that. So confrontation it was. Nervousness gripped her, but with it, Sam's words echoed in her mind.

'Don't panic. Visualize the plan, visualize your movements. Ask yourself questions: how will you get to their throat? Which strike will be the killing one? What are your advantages, and how do you play to them?'

Focus on your plan for the fight, not on the fact that there will be one—that was his teaching.

The black car approached and slowed down, and the weight in her stomach dropped. It finally took a turn and stopped in front of her. She read the license plate and memorized it.

From the vehicle, three tall men got out. Two looked like stereotypical mafia enforcers with broken noses and unpleasant faces. Both were tall and muscular.

The third man, who sat next to the driver, was slightly different. He was better dressed, with an athletic but not large build. His face was also relatively pretty. He looked like a businessman rather than someone who would get into a fight.

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Now that she knew where they were, Ophelia summoned her familiar into the shrubs behind her and commanded the snake to get behind one of the men. She could sense the creature slither around them into place.

"Ophelia, I presume," said the better-dressed man. "It's nice to meet you. We have been looking for you for quite some time."

"And why would that be?" Ophelia asked, keeping her hand on the rapier.

The man noticed the weapon with a slightly raised eyebrow but said nothing about it.

"I work with law enforcement, and I would like to ask you some more questions about the unfortunate trip to Norway," the man said with a smile.

"Riiight. Then you wouldn't mind showing me your badge?"

"I'm more of a private investigator. Sadly, we don't have badges."

"Well then, I don't have to answer you, do I? I'm pretty sure there is a lawyer representing me. You can ask him any questions," Ophelia retorted.

The man's smile twitched.

"We have to insist. The victim's father is owed an explanation."

"The victim's father has at least ten other people he can ask for an explanation, and the story he will hear won't change."

The man looked at her, the smile slowly drifting off his face into a frown.

"We would like to do it the easy way. You will come with us, whether of your own free will or not."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. Aside from the police station, if you won't stop harassing me."

"What harassment? We only wanted to talk, and you overreacted," the man said with a different, slimier smile on his face.

"I'm not going with you, so fuck off," Ophelia barked.

The leader shrugged, and the two larger men started to make their way toward Ophelia. Without any hesitation, she unsheathed her blade and pointed it at the chest of one of them.

They looked surprised at not only her speed but the fact that the weapon was visibly sharp.

"Is this really necessary?" asked the leader as the man stopped, looking at the rapier in half surprise and half amusement, while the hand of the other went underneath his jacket.

"You go back to the car and kindly fuck off. This is the last warning if you want to leave with your life," Ophelia said, her voice low.

She extended her consciousness to the other man to sense his movement. If that hand were even to touch the gun underneath his clothes, she would drive the blade into the chest of the man before her. The armor talisman was almost torn as the snake coiled in the grass behind the leader.

"You think you have the stomach to do it? It's—"

"Yes," Ophelia said, locking her eyes with the man.

He frowned. He seemed to try and intimidate her, but hesitated. She was being serious, and he seemed to sense it.

"You want to get shot, girl?"

"Oh, you're gonna shoot me? Is your employer a necromancer? Is he going to question my corpse after?" she said before she could bite her tongue.

Antagonizing the man wasn't the point, but the mocking words came out on their own. She realized she was spending too much time around unstable individuals.

"A certain madman once told me not to make threats you can't deliver on," she continued. "They make you look weak."

He stared her down for some time, trying to intimidate, but his supposedly cold gaze was kind of… funny at best compared to Sam's presence.

"Feisty little thing, huh?" he finally said. "Fine. We'll see you some other time."

As he said that, the two men took a step back.

"Tell Tom's father that if he wants to see me, we can talk in a public place. He can get the same story from me there if he must. But I will not be meeting him alone," Ophelia shouted as the men got back into their car.

She wasn't sure they would pass on the message or even take her seriously.

Once the car was out of sight, she sat heavily on a nearby log, looking at the trees.

That was dangerous—slightly exciting, she couldn't lie about that—but risky. The question was: what now? She told them off once, but that couldn't keep going on forever.

Ophelia didn't know what to do about it. She needed a permanent solution, and one that preferably didn't involve killing Tom's father. But it was hard to figure one out.

She decided to talk with the mushroom. He, much like Sam, didn't seem to care much for morality and human life but was less bloodthirsty.

After retrieving the snake and confirming the car had left, she got into her vehicle and drove to the training place.

She parked in a nearby forest area and left her phone inside. While it might be slightly paranoid, Ophelia was sure she didn't see the black car after meandering through the streets, so she decided to take all precautions.

After arriving at Myhur's small hut, she knocked and greeted her martial arts teacher.

After pleasantries, she finally sat down with the creature and explained to it the story of the ritual, the killing of Tom, and his father's position within big pharma and shady dealings. The mycanoid listened attentively before slowly speaking.

"Hiiis flesh yearns for the embrace of earth."

Ophelia winced at those words.

"I understand that. But in a way, I'm responsible for his son's death. He deserves to know what happened to his family, but I can't tell that to him."

"Doooes that give him the right to hurt you, or your family?"

"No," Ophelia firmly answered. "I'm not going to let him do that. I'm not a martyr, but I would like to solve it without anyone's death, if possible."

The mushroom looked at her, tilting its strange head to the side. "Iii do not understand your issue exactly. Nor do I know human law well enough to propose a solution. But if you want a confrontation, I can provide this space for you. I'll be nearby to help if needed."

"But the cats—"

"Theee cats can find another plot of land. Sam asked me to help you with your solution. So come up with one."

Ophelia nodded.

They then went on with her training, but she was absent-minded throughout all of it. It finally ended earlier, as she couldn't keep her concentration. Afterward, she called the cats, attempting to resolve the issue through law, but Q'Shar told her that it was not possible. The man could easily afford a good lawyer, so the best they could do was lay a defense against any bogus accusations.

Once back from training, Ophelia sat for hours in Sam's storage, looking at the ancient tomes and artifacts gathered there. She patted the ugly gargoyles and walked in circles around Sam's massive desk. But no idea came to her—none other than a confrontation that would probably end with violence.

What did the man want? Did he need an explanation? Did he want the body? Or maybe peace of mind, knowing what happened to his son?

If it were peace of mind, then maybe she could do it. If the man was sure it was her, then perhaps she could take some of the blame, without mentioning the magic. Not enough to get her in trouble, but enough to give the man an explanation. It may be enough. It was a lot of maybes. But if that didn't work, then there was always Sam's solution.

She finally sighed and picked up the phone to call the cats.

This time with a concrete plan in mind.

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