The tall, slender man led his horse inside before closing the door of the barn. “It’s quite a surprise to see another traveller here,” He said with a smile. “A pleasant surprise, that is,” he added, noticing Midhir’s withdrawn expression.
He was quite a tall man, taller than most Midhir had met. His brown hair was messy and covered his left eye completely. His uncovered eye was a dark brown colour, giving no hints to the man’s ancestry. His clothes gave no hints either – he wore simple, brown, and beige clothes, and a darker brown cloak. The only thing of note he had on him was a jewelled ring.
Midhir had no doubts about it. That was a holding gem.
“You don’t need to be so wary.” The man chuckled as he led his horse to one of the stalls. He seemed to struggle with the saddle a bit before he managed to remove it. After making sure the horse had enough hay and water, he closed the stall door, wiped his hands to a white handkerchief, then offered his hand to Midhir. “I don’t bite, young man.”
Midhir shook his hand hesitantly. “I’m Midhir Induen,” He introduced himself with a nod. “May I ask your name?”
The man’s eye widened for a split second before he smirked. “Of course!” He exclaimed, theatrically bowing. “I am Lonan Eirdre, seeker of secrets, hunter of the truth and,” He chuckled upon seeing Midhir’s confused expression. “A traveller!”
Midhir hesitated. The family name ‘Eirdre’ rang no bells, it wasn’t one of the prominent noble families in An’Larion. He could be a member of one of the smaller families in the capital, or perhaps a noble from Bareon or Olisar. “So, a historian?” He asked a few moments later, prompting Lonan to laugh.
“Indeed!” He exclaimed. “And if I were to guess your profession…” he narrowed his eye and looked at Midhir as if he was weighing his worth. “Solus Military Academy is the best in Eldoria, but I don’t remember their students ever visiting a remote town like Lohssa before.”
Midhir raised his eyebrows. “You say that like you’ve been in the academy before. Were you teaching there?”
Lonan shook his head. “Gods, no.” He laughed out loud. “I couldn’t bear to stay in that old, stuffy castle for more than a few hours at a time. I visited a few times to check the library, that’s all. It does have the best collection of books in all of Eldoria after all.” He opened the barn doors, “Shall we carry on this conversation in the inn? I’m quite hungry.”
Neither the girls nor Alistair had returned yet, so Midhir took Lonan’s offer, despite his lingering wariness against the man. “So, what are you doing here?” He asked, now seated by a table. “Lohssa is quite a remote town. What’s a historian doing here?”
Lonan’s eye glimmered with excitement. “Lohssa is extremely rich in history!” He exclaimed. “It’s not called the ‘Bastion of the Old Faith’ for nothing. There are so many legends about this place, and very few are completely baseless.” He pointed out the window, towards the town centre, where that white stone structure stood. “That monument, for example.” He said as he scraped the bottom of his bowl with a piece of bread. “It’s what people of the Old Faith called a ‘Stone of Passing.’ From what I understand, they believed it to lead the souls of the dead to the Otherworld.”
“Intriguing.” Midhir leaned back. “But the Old Faith is gone, there are no believers of it anymore. And I hardly believe you came all the way to Lohssa just to look at that rock.” He must have travelled for a week by horse to get here from An’Larion after all. It couldn’t be just for this Stone of Passing.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Lonan chuckled. “No, not at all. You see, Lohssa is surrounded by this old growth,” He made a vague gesture towards the thick, dark forests that stretched in all directions. “Do you know when these forests began to thrive?”
Midhir scowled. “I’d assume it’s after the Bareon Disaster.”
Lonan clapped. “Yes!” He exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. “Lohssa is built on a plateau. And it’s surrounded by more plateaus, it’s not just impassable mountains and rock faces. Yet seemingly overnight, the fertile fields were taken over by this forest.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “The whole of Eldoria suffered from the Bareon Disaster, but Lohssa shouldn’t have been affected quite so badly, don’t you think? It’s at the edge of Bareon’s territory.”
Midhir scowled. “The lands around Lunum are also affected similarly.” He reminded the historian. And Lunum is clearly in An’Larion’s jurisdiction.”
Lonan smirked. “Yes, but that old growth doesn’t date back to Bareon’s fall, does it? It’s only a decade or so old, coinciding with the An’Larion incident.”
Midhir scowled. The An’Larion incident remained shrouded in mystery, and very few were in the know about what really happened. Or, what the authorities think what really happened, since the truth of the matter was buried under tons of rubble, and an area where the Veil was weakened. “Tell me more.”
“No can do.” The historian’s shoulders dropped. “The Imperial family and the government has kept much of the truth about that incident hidden.” He hesitated. “Or, what’s more likely is that they’re just as clueless.” He let out a sigh. “Oh to be a fly on the wall when the district collapsed into the abyss.”
“You’d be a dead fly.” Midhir pointed out. “So, you’re here to check the old growth then?”
“More specifically, another Stone of Passing deep within the forest.” Lonan clarified. “You see-“
The painting of Lohssa on the back wall of the inn suddenly crashed into the ground, startling them both. Not a moment later, Lianne the innkeeper rushed out the kitchen. “Oh no, not again,” She cried as she struggled to lift it off the ground.
Midhir rushed to help her, lifting it and leaning it against the wall as Lianne inspected the wood frame for any damage.
Lonan watched them with a scowl on his face. “Has this happened before, Miss Lianne?”
“Once,” she replied as she checked the painting itself for any damage. “My great grandfather drew this as a gift to his daughter, when she had this inn built. I couldn’t bear to see it damaged-“ Her voice was drowned by a loud crash and a scream that came from the outside.
Midhir darted out the door. The first thing he noticed was blood – not a lot, but not little either. Then, the sounds of a crying child reached his ears.
A child no older than ten was cowering on the ground in a foetal position. His arms were wrapped around his head as blood seeped from between them, slowly forming a small pool on the ground.
Midhir felt his heart race as he looked around for the assailant. Then he saw it – a handful of shattered rooftiles spread around the child.
He rushed over and knelt on the ground by the child as the townsfolk began to gather around. “Hey,” he gently said, “Can you hear me? You’re safe now.” He carefully touched the child’s arm.
The child flinched but turned his head just enough to look at Midhir. “It hurts.”
“Let me see.” He said as he gently pulled the kid’s arms away from the wound on his head.
The smell of blood lingered in the air as he leaned in closer to inspect the wound. It wasn’t bleeding so much anymore, probably because the kid had pressed his arms against it. Now that the pressure was gone, it began to bleed again.
A piece of torn, brown cloth appeared at the corner of his eye. “Here,” Lonan said. “Use it to pressure the wound. Then get him inside, I’ll look for the town’s healer.”
While the historian ran off, Midhir carried the child inside. “Lianne!” he called out as soon as he stepped inside. “Do you have a bed available?”
The innkeeper’s eyes opened wide. “Yes, of course! Take the first room on the second floor, I’ll bring something to clean the wound!”
The door swung open before Midhir could move. Arwen stepped inside, helping Willow walk. The young noble girl’s face was red with blood. Holding a towel to her forehead, she froze when she saw the child in Midhir’s arms.
“What-“
Rain came crashing down from the skies, followed with thunder and distant lightning.
image [https://drive.google.com/thumbnail?id=1AE26oxRJ1VLUwn9TY2qt61ati41Cd6bv&sz=w2400-h400]