Rick the guard was terribly, indescribably bored. Or, at least that was his excuse as he surreptitiously sipped from the flask dangling from the cord around his neck. Slipping it back beneath the tabard covering his too-tight breastplate, he leaned against the crenelations atop the gate to Balandor, letting out a fetid sigh. The pay was mediocre, and gate duty was agonizingly boring, but City Guard was a pretty good gig, he mused. Especially on nights like this. Quiet, relaxed, and perfectly boring. Not that he minded when something livened it up just a touch, or he needed to rough up a suspicious merchant. He could just appreciate an uneventful shift is all, and tonight was shaping up to be a good and simple one.

So, when he first noticed the figure cresting the hill along the wide path in the dark, lit only by the starlight, he cursed. He hated having to deal with travelers this late. Opening the gate was a pain by himself, and logging the traveler was even worse. His superiors were big fans of duplicate records, so triplicate was necessary. With Rick’s poor handwriting, he’d have to spend ages writing carefully on the cramped ledger, else he’d just have to rewrite it, groggy and tired once the Sergeant reviewed it in the morning. Rick sighed, propping an elbow beneath his chin as he waited for the distant figure to approach, and pulled out the small notebook secured at his hip.

*******

I trudged through the dark, the end of the dreg spear dragging against the hard packed dirt of the road behind me. My stomach rumbled audibly, sounding like nothing so much as an angry beast. And that’s what I was certainly beginning to feel like. I had been walking for several hours at this point, and the gnawing hunger which had at first been motivating, now only made me irritable. I was so hungry, I felt like I was truly nearing starvation. My limbs had been trembling for some time, and every step was an effort. I didn’t think I’d been down in the caverns that long, though who knew how long I’d been out after the first cave in.

I shook my head ruefully. The fact that I had to specify the first cave in was frankly ridiculous. I doubted anyone but Vera would believe the story. I would have laughed any adventurer with such a tale out the door. A small grin twitched at the corners of my lips. The facts were though, that I finally had my own unbelievable tale of adventure, it didn’t matter at all if no one believed it. If I could manage to get home to tell it without starving, however. I grumbled as my stomach once more made its displeasure known, my abdomen clutching involuntarily. At least the walk had been uneventful, the wide dirt road had been easy enough to find by starlight, and no further obstacles had appeared on the long trek. I had been surprised at how close I’d ended up to the city, emerging on the shore of a wide lake not far from the road I’d originally taken to Balandor years ago, and I had taken a moment to gaze down the road to the south. I hadn’t visited home in quite some time, I really ought to now that I could, I thought to myself. It hadn’t been easy to find the time, getting time off from the guild had been like trying to get blood from a stone. That wouldn’t be a problem now though. The building probably wouldn’t be up for weeks yet, and I planned on formally resigning as soon as possible. I had been on a successful quest, and more importantly, I had magic!

I grinned, looking down at my hands, and the small, almost child-sized spear I still carried. I had tried to sense the flow of mana and begin the basic exercises I’d read about the whole walk home, and while I hadn’t had success yet, I was sure it was just nerves. I’d read over them again tomorrow, after the sleep I desperately needed, and then I’d finally get a taste of real power.

Glancing up, a bit of energy returned to my tired limbs as I noted how much closer the walls of the city loomed in the dark, framed by the large glowstone reflectors atop the wall either side of the gate. I rolled my neck, joints popping loudly as I passed the edge of the final crop fields, eagerly anticipating my bed, and more importantly, a meal. A few minutes later, I arrived, looking up at the gate, and the head of the lone guard poking out from a crenelle, cocked to the side as their gazes met.

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“And who might you be, so late as this, hmm? What business have you in the city of Balandor?” the guard called down, voice tinny from within his helmet.

I stood a bit straighter, planting the end of the short spear in the dirt beside me as I declared, “Bram, son of Drevor. I’m with the Hunter’s Guild, returning to the city.” I lifted my right arm, showing the stylized H branded on my wrist, suddenly aware that I was still shirtless as a bit of color bloomed on my cheeks.

The guard leaned further, squinting through his helmet for a long moment, before breathing out a heavy sigh. I wrinkled my nose, shocked that the stale smell of liquor had carried all the way down, before schooling my face to neutrality once more. Best not to offend the guard standing between me and getting home to a meal. Luckily, the guard didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Alright. Bram, was it?” At my answering nod, the guard grunted, looking down at something out of view. “Alright, gimme a minute.”

With that, the helmeted head of the guard disappeared, and I only heard his muffled mutters and loud footfalls retreating until silence once more reigned. I was considering calling for the guard or circling round to the other gate when the huge doors of the gate began to shift, wood and iron hinges groaning as they swung open just wide enough to slip through. Stepping quickly into the gap, I nodded at the sweating guard through the gap in the gate house, who only grunted before turning the massive gear within, the gate slowly closing behind me. Not needing any more prompting, I strode quickly through the dark streets toward home.

A strange itch crawled up my spine, and I stopped, peering around at the dark alleyways. I shivered, but moved on. Just the jitters, probably because I was so hungry.

I made it to the steps of the apartment, my burst of energy flagging as I stared up the steep steps. Blowing a sharp puff of air, I climbed, only hoping there was something left to eat. A short moment of panic at thinking I might have lost the key later, I withdrew it from the buttoned pocket beneath my greaves and quietly entered the apartment. Tossing the captured spear in the corner, I stumbled to the hanging stew pot, unable to resist for even a moment at the scent spilling out. Grabbing the ladle, I greedily shoveled the thick stew into my mouth, humming in relief at the taste. I wolfed down ladle after ladle, delighted to find there was much more meat than usual, the savory flavor heaven on his tongue. When I’d fished out all the meat and consumed most of the broth, I looked down into the chest sized pot, frowning at the remaining vegetables. I normally loved potatoes and carrots, but the remaining stew just seemed worthless now. My stomach rumbled once more, so I sighed and ladled more into my waiting mouth, though every bite was much less filling than before. By the time I finished the entire pot of stew, my stomach had finally ceased its caterwauling, and I sat back, exhaustion adding leaden weight to my eyelids. I managed to stumble into my room, not bothering to close the door.

Collapsing into bed, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

*****

Deep beneath the earth, south of the city of Balandor, the dust was still settling. Within a laboratory which had once housed some of the greatest magical achievements in the mortal plane, the last sparks of power faded. Rubble now filled the space, equipment mangled and crushed beneath thousands of tons of stone. But one corner of the great lab remained whole. Upon the great obelisk, the light from the glyphs sputtered and went out, draping what remained of the ruin in near total darkness, only lit by bits of moss not pulverized in the partial collapse.

As the final glyph went out, a low rumble shook the obelisk as it began to split, a long seam hidden within the intricate glyphwork along its face opening with a hiss of inrushing air. As the gap widened, long, pale fingers reached from within, forcing the stone open. When the obelisk stopped moving, the figure within collapsed, shaking hands splaying in the dust, before dragging chipped, blood crusted nails through it. A mane of shockingly white hair fell in tangled strands around sunken, emaciated features set in alabaster skin, a dangerous, feral beauty still recognizable beneath untold ages of torment as the faint turquoise light briefly lit a face set in a rictus grin.

Bruised, bloodshot eyes darted to the source of the light, and one shaking hand caressed the small patch of moss tenderly, almost lovingly. The light began to fade, and as it did, hollow cheeks began to fill, trembling limbs moving to stillness as strength returned. A terrible sound echoed through the dark, a hacking, rasping noise rising from a throat raw from screaming, that slowly resolved into something close to laughter. And as the sound quieted, red eyes burned like coals in the darkness of the tomb.

It would not hold her for long.