It took him another two days before he had enough energy to reach the house that Latty had spotted. Jorun’s body was growing considerably stronger, but he felt more tired that he had when he had been crossing the waste.

He discovered one thing that was far more interesting to him than the house, and Latty had made no mention of it.

A cemetery.

The hill to the south had a small area that stuck pushed the hill away, and in this little alcove a good hundred tombstones had been placed. He had been shocked to see that many graves, until he checked the dates. People had been mining in this place for almost two hundred years.

Whatever they were mining was worth a lot of death.

What was interesting was how Latty reacted to the place. She hated it.

It was possible to force her into the graveyard, but it was the only way she would enter it. Whenever he would ask her what was wrong she would reply with, “It feels weird. I don’t like it.”

She wouldn’t say anything more than that.

Jorun felt a strange sense of peace in the place. He knew that he should feel uncomfortable with it being a place for the dead, but it felt welcoming for that very reason. He would feel his fatigue and exhaustion leave him as he walked through it’s narrow path lined with memorials of past lives.

The effect would fade the moment he left it, but it was near the far end of the village allowing him to catch his breath before moving on.

The house was clearly abandoned.

Walking the long path took about thirty minutes, and he noticed that it split before heading up the hill to the house.

The trail to the house was almost completely overgrown with small plants. The path that split off wandered off towards the waste. It was relatively heavily used by someone, although Jorun hadn’t seen anyone walking it since he had arrived.

The house itself was in decent shape. The few plants growing in the area hadn’t started on the house itself, but rather on claiming several small spaces that had probably been cleared by someone.

The patches of short greenish grass caught his eye. There wasn’t much of it, but the heat of the region was browning it, leaving it spotty and discolored.

The house had three rooms. A kitchen, a bedroom, and what looked like a workshop.

He walked through the house and found a small grave behind it.

There was no sense of peace or tranquility here.

Just a sense of sorrow.

“Latty,” Jorun called and she appeared in front of him.

“Yes?”

Jorun pointed under her floating figure, “There is a grave there. Can you tell me if they are still around?”

She looked down and floated back. Then she dove headfirst into the dirt. A second later her head bobbed above the surface.

“A girl. Something is definitely there, but I don’t it is her anymore.”

“Should I dig up the grave?”

Latty climbed out of the soil using a nearby rock. She shook herself like she was wet. Then she began wringing her hair like she was drying it.

“I suppose you would probably want to. If you liked that yellow stone that is.”

Jorun looked down to where the two stones rested next to each other. One small and green. One large and golden. The golden one pulsed with energy, but neither stone would allow itself to be separated from Jorun’s presence.

He wasn’t exactly sure if it was a good thing to have two stones. He had read that the green one would mark him for death if certain people discovered it. If he knew anything about the yellow, he suspected that there would be people who treated it the same way.

A third stone would mark him for death from a third party. Then again, he suspected that it had been used to carve out the wasteland and it’s curse sending thousands of people to their death’s.

“Show me where the thing is.”

Latty floated over a part of the grave and point down, “Dig straight down there.”

“Is it deep?” Jorun asked as he moved towards the spot.

“Not really. Maybe about 30 centimeters.”

He started digging with a could of flatter stones, carefully moving the dirt away. It took Jorun a while to eventually move enough dirt to see the cover.

“It’s a book?”

“It has power like the stones. I can feel it.” Latty responded, sounding a little annoyed. She spun turning her back to him.

“Latty?”

“What?” She looked over her shoulder.

“Can you see what it is?” Jorun held up the first thing he could.

“Of course I can! It’s the book.”

Jorun looked at the stone he had been using to dig, it wasn’t even remotely book-like.

“Thanks Latty. I don’t really need you here. I will let you know if I find anything interesting in the book.”

She vanished and Jorun spent several more minutes digging the book out of the ground. It was a large tome and it was held in the deathlike grip of a small skeleton.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Jorun did his best not to twist the arms any as he pulled the book out of the ground.

It felt heavy. The cover was a thick dark leather.

It felt like his book.

He opened it.

It hurt to look at the words.

He rubbed his head, and focused on the very first word.

Witchcraft.

It left his head aching to read that one word.

He put the book into the ground, and covered it in a layer of dirt. He was careful not to add too much, but make sure that the area didn’t look like someone had been digging there. He got up and went home.

Latty drifted along when he was halfway back to the village, “Did you find anything interesting?”

“It’s a book about witchcraft.”

“Oh neat! So now you have a second book.”

“You couldn’t read the sorcerer’s book, right?”

She shook her head, “I could read a little of it, but it was really hard.”

Jorun remembered the cauldron and his mother cooking. He thought about his father’s death and Lara.

“I don’t want to pry, but I need to know something.”

“Okay…” Latty didn’t seem that happy at the statement.

“I can’t read much of the witchcraft book, but I can understand the first word. You can’t read anything about my book, right?”

She shook her head, “Nope.”

“So if I read the sorcerer’s book I shouldn’t be able to understand it, right?”

Latty titled her head as she thought about it, “I suppose that makes sense.”

“You were related to the sorcerer, right?”

She was quiet.

“Sorry, I just can’t understand why I can read the witchcraft book at all. If you could read the sorcerer’s book, because you are related…”

He broke off, unable to finish the thought.

“Are you related to a witch?” Latty asked quietly.

Those two times where his mother had used the enormous cauldron flashed before his mind’s eye. The dream of the dark energy.

“Maybe.” He didn’t really like the idea of saying yes.

“Me too. Maybe that guy was my dad.”

It was even quieter a response than a moment ago.

“My mom. She did something.” He stopped, picturing the dead and dying people of the village. It had been two or three weeks before everyone grew sick and died.

“Maybe she didn’t. He might not be my dad.” Latty tried to smile, but Jorun knew what she meant.

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. I will bring everyone back. Then I can ask her myself. Do you know anything about the other direction the path goes near the house?”

“No, what other path?”

Jorun pointed behind them, “It’s more or less straight that way.”

She vanished and he continued walking in silence. The sun was setting and he saw the moon on the distant horizon. It was a thin sliver.

“Looks like there is another house, but I can’t get close. It’s pretty far from here.” Latty suddenly spoke up from behind.

Jorun felt his heart race for a moment, “Please don’t talk to me like that. Let me know you are there first.”

Latty giggled, “Whatever else happens Jor, you are way more interesting than the waste.”

“Thanks Latty.”

Jorun wasn’t really sure why she had shortened his name like that, but it was the first time she had ever referred to him by anything resembling his name.

“Think it’s worth investigating?”

“I dunno. I think I saw light coming from it’s windows, but I could be wrong.”

“You have been amazing, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks!” She smiled, and for a moment she reminded him of his kid sister. Her hair was the wrong shape and color, but that was the only real difference.

Jorun finished the walk in relative silence. The village was lit up with a number of candles burning brightly. It was a strange way to react to the encroaching darkness. He missed the roof’s with their amazing view of the passing stars.

The trees and hills didn’t really allow the people here a good view of the night sky though.

Several of the women greeted him as he wandered back into the village. It was then that he realized that he was no longer feeling the strain of the walk. A couple of miners, big brawny men, where playing a game on a wooden board with a variety of oddly shaped pieces. They looked up and smiled as Jorun passed them by, but neither took their eyes off of the board for very long.

“Have a good walk?” Betty asked as he walked into the house. Her husband was the foreman of the mine, Smith. He wasn’t home yet and he seemed to work a rather strange schedule that Jorun hadn’t figured out.

“Yeah, found a little path that goes to the other side of the hill. There are quite a few of those trees, and I was thinking that it would be nice to explore over there tomorrow.”

Betty quickly poured a bowl of soup. It was the usual fair for the evening meal, made from the leftovers of the earlier meals in the day. Jorun sat down and began to eat hungrily away at it.

“Just be careful, there is an old house on the hill. I wouldn’t recommend you go up there. It is said to be cursed.”

Jorun coughed a little. He had hoped the people of the village stayed away from there, and this all but guaranteed that no one would bother him up there.

“Don’t you worry yourself. The curse never leaves that house.” She patted him on the back.

“That’s a relief.” Jorun lied. He had been taught to be honest and upfront to people, but he knew that she wouldn’t understand.

He had already felt the effects of both curse and disease. He could feel it in his blood.

He wasn’t like these people.

“Anything else over there?”

“There’s an old hermit over there. He’s a strange old guy from somewhere to the northeast.”

Jorun blinked, “Why does he live so far from the village?”

“He’s an outsider. He just wandered in here with little to nothing to his name.”

“I am an outsider.” Jorun smiled at her, and Betty laughed.

“You are one of the wandering people. Doctors and merchants and those kinds are always welcome here. He never once tried to sell or help anyone.”

“So?” Jorun didn’t understand what the distinction was.

Betty waved her hands nervously, “It means he did something bad and was kicked out.”

“Ohh.” Jorun feigned understanding, but he really didn’t get it.

They talked for a little while Jorun picked his way through the soup. She told him several stories about the hermit, and how strangely he behaved around the people of the village. All he could think about was that it didn’t sound too different from what had happened to him.

“Would anyone mind if I were to go talk with him?”

“Why?” Betty seemed genuinely perplexed by the idea, but not upset.

“I would want to check up on him and see if he is taking care of himself. It’s my people’s custom.” He lied again.

“So your people were healers?”

Jorun pictured the death. Then he remembered those perfect moments, sitting on their rooftops laughing and drinking through the night.

“I don’t know. I guess we were. I hadn’t really thought about it before.”

“You done eating that?” She asked and Jorun looked to see his bowl was empty.

“Yea, I guess I am.”

She picked it up, “If you think it is the right thing to do. No one here will stop you. But I want you to be careful too. He could be a dangerous person.”

Jorun was pretty sure he knew how to stop a person’s heart. Suddenly he realized that Betty was worried the hermit would hurt him, “Don’t worry. I am tougher than I look, after all, I crossed the desert.”

She smiled, “Sounds like your mind is made up.”

“I can’t forget what my family would want me to do.” He hadn’t liked lying. It felt right to be completely honest about this.

“Make sure you never disappoint them then.”

“I won’t.” Jorun smiled at her, “Good night and thanks for the food!”

She waved as she began washing out his bowl.

Once in his room, he pulled out his tome and began reading it. He wasn’t that tired and it was surprisingly easy to read it in the dark.