Me and the Devil: Sebastian Sallow

Chapter SEVENTY FOUR - Estate

Sebastian's giddy high only lasted until the edge of the hamlet. As our boots kicked past a few spell test dummies in a line, the path dipped between the hills and so did Sebastian's smile. The air felt thicker here as we approached the abandoned estate.

Debris littered the ground illuminated in flickering lantern light.

"They're digging for something." Sebastian's voice was as low as his spirits as we climbed toward a plateau. "They've set up stations around their camp for everything." He motioned with an outstretched arm, wand in hand.

Covering the tables were stacks of knives, swords, armor, shields... always ready for a fight.

We wound around and around, peering into dug out crevasses, across tables, into stoves and crates - finding nothing out of the ordinary. The only light from the tips of our wands and the gleam of the moon.

"They used to say this belonged to a Hogwarts professor, but I never heard any more-"

Sebastian paused just outside the broken estate itself. His eyes darted over the falling stones, tinged in black soot and the muscle in his jaw clenched tightly. I slid my hand into his to give it a reassuring squeeze.

He smiled limply but there was no emotion behind his eyes, as if he wasn't truly even there.

I ducked through a broken wall, careful to avoid a shattered pile of glass just inside. Wood beams had caved in around the entire room, a small stone fireplace sat crooked at the far end. A few books had managed to escape the flames while others were not so lucky and were strewn across the floor in various stages of burnt and ash.

My hands gripped my wand tighter as I held it higher, letting the faint light dust the crooks in the walls.

A large wood mirror sat propped against the floor, top tipped upwards to a point and little gold details inlaid around the edges. As I crept closer, dirt and rubble crumbling beneath my boots, I realized the mirror wasn't a mirror at all but a portrait.

Smooth short strokes expertly laid across the canvas depicting a person sitting proudly with their hands crossed gently in her lap. Black bits of soot, ash and slashed canvas dripped across their face. Something about their placement and the lack of scorch marks around the frame itself was particularly peculiar.

"Sebastian! Over here." He moved quickly to my side, knuckles clenched against his wand. "Do you think this was damaged by the fire the night An- that night?"

He crouched lower to inspect the dark marks. "Could be? But it looks to me as if this was intentional." His brows furrowed as he glanced back to me over his shoulder. "Why burn a portrait?"

I shrugged, frowning and left Sebastian to touch the burnt canvas while I inspected the only other intact room of the estate.

Nothing.

Frustrated, I moved just outside and closed my eyes to let my consciousness drift inward. I wanted to feel my ancient magic, to give me any sort of clue as to why it was depicted in my book.

The space behind my lids was dark, only faint bits floated across my vision. My fingertips remained numb and I was about to open my eyes again when a deep stabbing, familiar pain crashed across my chest. Red blinding light flashed across the underside of my lids and my muscles locked. I could have sworn I could see distinct faces between the reds and blacks but the pain made everything blurry.

I crumpled to the ground, clenching the fabric there through trembling fingers.

"Atley? Atley!" Sebastian's voice was frantic and he was at my side in a moment. "What is it? What happened?"