024 - Journey to the East
Magnus woke up laughing. The sun had long set, the many travellers and passers by had long ceased gawking at his body where it lay at the side of the road. No pain, no damage. He touched his neck. Not even a scratch. Ah ha ha . . not something you can call human.
His clothes were in tatters; they'd already been filthy with yellow pus and sweat, and now they were no more than rags. Magnus got to his feet, even my bloody shoes have burst!
By the light of the half moon Magnus navigated his way down the road to the east. He walked through the night, finding a stream and cleaning himself up and quenching his thirst. He walked on, through the sun and the day. Every other traveller gave him a wide berth.
There was a dull ache in his belly, every breath felt as if he'd swallowed shards of broken glass. Late in the day the road reached the Stor, a wide river running north, the road followed the banks of the Stor to the south.
Out across on the opposite bank there was an endless expanse of trees, the forests of the Gifhorn-Klotz. On the other side of the forest, the Empire Swamp. How much further? A week? There wasn't enough time . . Magnus clenched his teeth.
Many boatmen did a swift trade ferrying passengers from bank to bank. Magnus approached them one by one, each and every one refused. He'd begged and pleaded, he even thought of trying to brave the river currents and swim. It was only when Magnus offered his gold ring as payment that an elderly ferry man agreed to take him, snatching the ring from Magnus' hands.
It was nearly night by the time they reached the other shore, the ferry man wasted no time in casting off, leaving Magnus alone at the edge of the forest.
Another day, walking on the eastbound road under the tall cedar trees. Magnus focused only on putting one foot in front of another, one pace at a time ever to the east.
A week went by. It had now nearly been a month since Magnus left Kloster, nearly the time when that old Alchemist said he should be dead. Magnus felt neither better nor worse, neither closer nor further from death. Had the Alchemist been wrong?
What about the Witching Road? Magnus had pinned all his hopes on finding them, finding those who opposed the Alchemists. Such a thin sliver of hope . . find them, find a cure, find a way to live, find a way to get revenge on the Alchemists!
With every step to the east a knot of hatred grew, like a churning ball of black emotions. Magnus marched on, forgetting to stop, forgetting to sleep, only a festering hate growing, taking deep root in core of his being. More than once Magnus awoke, finding he had collapsed on the road and was simply dreaming of walking.
I can't smell anymore. I can't taste anything. I can't feel any pain, or feel to touch. Magnus blinked, looking at the tree tops. My sight is fading, the world is getting blurrier . . are those bells? Is my hearing going? Ha ah, to the east Magnus, walk, walk, come on, what else is there?
I need strength! Power!
I need to be strong enough to rip Festus apart!
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I need to be strong enough to break every single bone, to reach up to that big bloody floating tower and pull it down from the heavens!
I need to live!
There were few travellers on the forest path, few villages and farms; many long abandoned. Finally, after several days of nothing but trees the road came to the edge of the forest and entered into the plains. After a day walking through the flat grasslands Magnus came to a rundown town at the edge of a large expanse of marshland.
There were no walls to the town, no people walking the streets. Near the center there was a sign of life, a single two story tavern with a couple of horses tied to posts.
Magnus walked by, going to the far side of the town. The road came to an end, beyond it only a expanse of strange coloured waters. No trees or plants or any sort of life at all seemed to grow in the muddy waters, only strange shaped black rocks like fingers poking up through the mud.
The water didn't look so deep, maybe only reaching ankle depth. The marsh waters stretched as far as he could see, looking north and south there didn't seem be any way around. Just as Magnus was about to step out into the waters he heard a commotion.
The door of the tavern burst open, a boy with a large rucksack came running out, behind him a middle aged women.
"Lars! Stop!" The women cried out.
"Ma, I'll be back soon! I'm just gonna go to the City" Lars ran the length of the road. "Don't worry Ma! I'm just gonna find Pa and the Alchemist and I'll be right back!" Lars ran past Magnus, turning south at the edge of the waters.
Lar's mother cursed and stomped her foot giving up the chase. Lars kept going south, suddenly turning in and running into the marsh. Magnus watched in amazement as he seemed to walk on the waters.
"Boy!" Magnus croaked, "Lars! Hold on!"
The boy stopped. "What?"
"Is this the Empire Swamp?" Magnus called out.
"Oh aye." Lars replied.
"Do you know where I can find the Witching Road?" Magnus held little hope, but asked eagerly.
"Oh aye," Lars nodded. "I'm going there now."
"Thank the stars!" Magnus took a step forward, about to enter into the ankle deep waters and cross to where the boy stood.
Lars eyes widened in horror and he cried out "Stop! Don't go into the water!" Magnus halted, unsure, his feet nearly in the mud.
"For all that is holy, don't you know what happens to them that go in the dead water?" Lars ran back to the edge of the swamp. "Where do you think you are? Idiot! You would be dead, just like that."
"Dead?" Magnus examined the water. It was somewhat strange, a little blue, but nothing too odd.
"Dead, sure as the sun rises, dead." Lars looked Magnus up and down, wrinkling his nose. "You alright? You smell like something rotting . . "
"I'm fine. Just need to get to the Witching Road." Magnus felt a thousand times better than before, a thousand time more hopeful.
Caj had been telling the truth! This was the Empire Swamp! Here was the Witching Road!