Chapter 15 Smoke

Adrian drank some water and tried to eat something, his face, throat, and lungs hurting with each movement. His gear, while slightly charred and blackened had survived, the magical effects still intact.

Fire magic. That was something.

He hadn’t exactly been burnt badly before but he knew that this magical creation wasn’t comparable to normal fire. Just thinking about it gave him the shivers.

Standing up hurt but it was manageable, the wounds from the crossbow bolts mostly healed. I was hit twice. And I fell… that should’ve knocked me out instantly. And the fire, it burned my skin off easily but somehow the pain was manageable. Enough to move at least.

He came to the conclusion that his investment and gear focus on Vitality had paid off. He ended up still needing the potion, but without the high Vitality, he would’ve died. He was sure of it. I would’ve survived without the potion too, just with a lot more pain. And I might’ve been taken out by something else.

The sun had moved, time passing as he rested in his hiding spot. Adrian ground his teeth, feeling his lungs ache with each breath. He grabbed his pack and crossbow, taking the spear before he moved away the barricades. From now on, he would be extra careful with well dressed and jewelry wearing undead.

Another few hours of his slow and methodical journey through the castle town finally brought him close to the walls. The slope on which the whole place had been built helped immensely with navigating the tight and confusing passageways. He managed to find dead ends more often than he cared to count but in the end, the way down turned out to be the right choice.

Most of the time that was. He generally avoided the dark tunnels leading underground and the holes he occasionally found with steel ladders attached to a the stone walls of their descent. Soldiers and dogs were much less common in the lower parts of the town but at the same time, the clusters of people grew ever larger. He luckily didn’t encounter any more wielders of magic.

Even with the long decayed and weather beaten clothing that still managed to stick to the undead, it became clearer to Adrian that the wealth differences in the various town districts corresponded directly to how high up they were. He still didn’t know if the town had been built on a large hill, or a mountain, or if it was indeed built from the ground up, large sections of it not ever seeing the light of day, lying buried below the ever upwards reaching towers.

The architecture itself hadn’t lost its splendor closer to the walls, though windows were occasionally broken and entrances looked more aged. He checked a few and found them all locked, contrary to the areas near his bedroom.

Not a perfect utopian castle town after all, he thought, walking the broad street a few hundred meters away and parallel to the wall. Now that he was closer, Adrian could see the thin wisps of smoke rising towards the sky. Something was still burning and he would reach it soon.

The realization made him slow down, the man checking behind himself to make sure nothing was following. It felt wrong in a way, for his simple plan to have worked the way it had. After all, didn’t plans usually fail? Especially in monster infested places filled with magic?

He noticed that the wide street was unusually devoid of undead. The few moans he heard came from farther away or from within buildings. There were no corpses either.

What’s going on here, he thought, creeping closer to the buildings and trying to hide his form as best he could.

Adrian could feel that something was wrong in the area. It was way too quiet. But he had come here to find out what the smoke had been about, and to meet whoever had started it. Let it not be a monster, he thought to himself as he reached a large square. He leaned around the corner, his eyes opening wide at the sight before him.

Light wafts of smoke still rose from the massive pyre, most of it burned down what seemed like days ago. Only charred pieces of wood remained at the borders. In the center of the large circle rested the burned remains of skeletons, stacked on top of each other by the dozen.

Adrian took a step back, gripping his spear as he looked at the remains of hundreds of people. He felt his heartbeat accelerate and took a deep breath. This was why he came. No monster would pile up bodies in such an orderly fashion and burn them. Someone sane was doing it. Or someone close to it.

He gathered his courage and stepped out into the square, spear and shield ready as he felt the weight of his weapons and gear. Adrian froze after just a few steps, his eyes now resting on the back of a stranger.

Someone sat before the ashes, a black and brown fur coat covering most of their sitting form. The person had wild long gray hair, mixing with the fur of their coat as it fell to their back.

Adrian gulped and took a few more steps. Will it be the same as with the knight? he wondered. But now he knew what the creatures here were capable of. He had killed dozens of them, had fought and survived. And he had come all the way down here to meet this person. If he had a chance to learn anything about his situation, this was it.

He was getting tired, his body aching, and his lungs burning. The injuries at least hadn’t gotten worse it seemed.

And if it turned out the person was some kind of monster, he could always try to run, and not act as clumsily as he had with the knight.

“Hello!” he called out after a few seconds of silent consideration.

The person said something in a language he didn’t understand. A man. But he didn’t turn to face Adrian.

The bodies… it looks like… is he praying?

“I’m sorry. I don’t speak your language. But I will wait,” he said and walked to the nearby well, sitting down on the stone edge. He looked at the man, his head slightly inclined. A barely audible murmur came from him.

Adrian could now see the spear sitting next to the unknown person, a steel pole with the same leaf like blade he had on his weapon. A knight from here? Someone who didn’t change into whatever creatures the people here became?

He set down his pack, unsure how to proceed as he grabbed some food and water, refreshing himself while he kept his eyes on the man sitting about fifteen meters away on the ground. Adrian planned to run away immediately if he showed any sign of hostility. Yes, he had killed a ton of undead creatures but he wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t know how to actually wield his weapon, let alone against someone who did.

Someone confident enough to sit and pray in the town of the dead. Someone who might’ve actually taken out all those undead, just to burn them here.

He saw differently colored ash at the edges of the massive pyre, bits and pieces of bones too.

Adrian waited, his only reason to come here sitting right in front of him. The language barrier would be an issue but he had managed around it before. It really just depended on if the man was hostile or not. The language hadn’t sounded all too foreign, something he thought possible to learn were he a teenager with a lot more motivation and interest in languages than he had been.

Half an hour passed, the sun moving on the horizon as a cool breeze flowed over the square and the massive castles beyond.

Adrian tensed up when he heard the man sigh, his head looking up at the rising smoke before he slowly stood up.

The man grabbed his spear and turned, staring at Adrian with tired dark red eyes. His face showed both scars and wrinkles. Adrian estimated him to be around sixty years old, his build however quite sturdy. But that might’ve been the large and warm looking coat. The hand grasping his spear didn’t look frail at all, his left one however hidden within the fur. His jawline was well defined, his face showing a healthy color and diet.

Adrian found himself being a little taller than the man, if not by much. He watched as the man’s gaze took him in just as he did. His eyes finally came to rest on the spear.

He said something. A sentence with an incline in the end. A question perhaps.

“I don’t speak your language, I’m sorry,” Adrian said.

The man looked at him and revealed his left hand, the arm covered in scars and what looked like burns. He pulled on the thin gray mustache he sported with a thoughtful expression before he pointed at the spear.

Stolen story; please report.

“I found it, in an armory,” Adrian said and pointed at himself. “Adrian.” Then he held up the spear and pointed towards the town behind him, trying and failing to find the specific terrace he had appeared in.

The man pointed to himself. “Yrenor,” he said in a gravelly voice and showed his own spear, pointing at Adrian before he closed his eyes and shook his head.

Adrian watched as the man slowly approached, his step calm and confident, the weapon angled in a neutral way.

He clutched his own spear, uncertain as to Yrenor’s intent. If that was his name. “I don’t want to fight you,” he said and stepped around the well, his weapon held in a defensive posture.

Yrenor stopped and looked at the spear again, shaking his head before he suddenly dashed forward with a bout of speed that seemed both inhuman and impossible.

Adrian could only hold up his spear but found the man easily sidestepping the weapon. Yrenor slid his own spear past Adrian’s guard and stopped just shy of his neck.

“O… kay… what do you want?” Adrian asked, gulping as he felt the pointy steel prick his throat.

Yrenor grabbed the spear and looked at Adrian with an expectant expression.

Adrian let go of the weapon, the situation not allowing him to do anything else. If he made the wrong move, he would be dead in an instant, he was sure of it.

The man stepped back, looking at the spear for a moment.

Adrian slowly moved his hands towards his daggers, the Crossbow and his pack still sitting next to the well. He had decided against using the ranged weapon initially, not about to provoke hostilities with the only human being he had managed to find. But now things had changed. He wouldn’t go down without a fight, if that was what Yrenor wanted. He was done dying paralyzed by fear. He was still scared to shit but he forced himself to move.

The man held on to the spear, glancing at Adrian, his gear, and then to the daggers, a slight smirk showing on his lips before he shook his head and sighed.

“You attacked me first,” Adrian said, shrugging slightly.

Yrenor said something before he walked away.

Adrian waited, unsure of what had happened, remaining unmoving until the man gestured him to follow.

What do I have to lose? he thought and went to grab his pack and crossbow, clutching the loaded weapon tightly as he followed Yrenor at a healthy distance. Not healthy enough with his sudden quick dash. Is that a Soul skill? Or are people here just faster? Maybe he has really high Skill, or there’s an equipment bonus that enhances speed. Or he’s not human at all.

Adrian remained quiet as he followed the man towards the walls, watching as Yrenor opened a tower door next to what looked like a proper castle gate.

He waited for Adrian to step past and into the dark room, closing the door behind himself.

A flame suddenly flickered to life, illuminating the small room as Yrenor stepped past and towards another door on the other side.

Adrian just stared at the flame in the older man’s hand. It flickered and moved just like any flame would, but it floated right above his palm, brighter than its size should reasonably be. He suddenly felt warm, gulping as he stared at the phenomenon he had seen somewhat recently. The difference however was obvious, even to him. This wasn’t some random undead wielding fire magic.

Yrenor turned and said something, waking Adrian from his short lived trance. He gestured him to follow, opening the door on the other side and stepping out.

Now is the time to run. What will it be?

The answer was obvious and he followed.

Adrian and Yrenor walked out into the forest, not following the main road that led away from the massive gate. Instead they walked on a small path in the grass, barely visible but still obviously traveled.

Half an hour of silent walking later, the two came out into a clearing in the forest, what looked like a cabin standing amidst a few large trees. Ivy and shrubberies had grown over a part of the home, a tiled roof protecting it from rain. Two windows in the front were perfectly boarded up, thick wood making sure nothing would manage to get inside. The door looked downright ancient. Heavy and wooden. The rest of the cabin was built from stone, held together by some adhesive material.

Adrian doubted it was cement but with the architecture in the castle town, it could be something more advanced. A wooden fence stood against the wilderness around, most of the ground dug up and growing vegetables and herbs, none of which he knew.

As they got closer to the door, he saw scratch marks on the wood.

Yrenor conjured up a key from somewhere in his coat and unlocked the door, stepping inside.

Adrian hesitated for a moment, not sure if the man wanted him to wait outside or follow. People had a lot of rules when it came to their homes and he wasn’t about to die because he unknowingly offended the only living person he had found. Only living mage, he thought and gulped.

Yrenor turned and gestured for him to follow inside, pointing at his boots and to the side where he had placed his own pair.

Adrian nodded and walked inside, the place rather dark with light only streaming in from the open doorway. He glanced up when a flickering light appeared in his peripheral vision, watching with bated breath as Yrenor walked to the large hearth at the other side of the expansive room. He leaned the spears next to it.

A gust of flame flowed from his hand as naturally as water would from a jug, clinging onto the partially charred wood in the hearth. The chunks of wood were set alight as if drenched in oil, bringing immediate light to the inside of the cabin.

Yrenor looked back at Adrian with a curious expression, stepping over to an armchair before he sat down with a tired smile. He grabbed a pipe from the small table next to him and set the contents alight with his magic, his eyes closing for a moment as he started smoking.

Adrian focused back on his boots, taking them off with care before he placed them on the wooden sheet. He looked at the door and pointed at it, raising an eyebrow to Yrenor.

The man waved him off.

And so he left the door open, glad he wasn’t robbed from his only escape route. All the scenarios from post apocalyptic movies and horror shows went through his mind. A monster trapping unsuspecting victims in its living cabin, a cannibal befriending and then eating strangers, or just a monster luring creatures into its den. But he had to admit that the place was cozy.

A few paintings hung from the stone walls, entirely too expensive looking for this little cabin. The hearth was massive, beautifully crafted and set into the center of the opposite wall. Three large armchairs dominated the room, sitting on a heavy dark red carpet. To the right of the entrance, a small kitchen had been added. Plenty of utensils from cups and plates, to pots and barrels filled in the space, dried herbs and vegetables sitting in an open cupboard fixed to the wall.

The windows were barred from the inside too, an additional precaution it seemed. Adrian spotted a small wooden staircase leading up at the right side of the room, likely where the man slept, if he did in fact sleep at all.

Adrian placed his pack and crossbow near the entrance, in such a way that he could snatch it up if he had to run outside.

Yrenor watched his every move with interest, dragging from his pipe before he motioned to the armchair opposite himself.

Adrian looked at him but followed the suggestion, sitting down with a sigh. He winced at the pain from the various burns, taking his time to find a comfortable position.

Yrenor nodded to the flames in the hearth.

Adrian smiled and nodded. He held up his hands, palms facing up before he imitated the gestures the mage had used, trying to show that he was the one getting burnt. He tapped the shield still fastened to his arm, showing the charred color.

The older man chuckled, the sound rolling through the small cabin. He said a few words and slowly stood up, pipe in hand as he went to a nearby bookshelf.

Adrian watched as he grabbed a leather bound book and placed it on the small table. He got a quill and ink, placing it next to it before he walked past Adrian and to one of the cupboards in the kitchen area.

Yrenor held out a small glass container, a white salve within. He showed his left hand and gestured as if to apply the salve to it.

Adrian took the container. “Thank you,” he said. It smelled faintly of herbs, not that he could place it specifically. Though when he applied some to his burns, the relief was instant. He sighed deeply, eliciting another chuckle from the older man.

Yrenor was soon busy drawing onto the empty pages of his book, occasionally pausing to think.

Adrian didn’t just wait. He applied more of the salve, making sure he didn’t use up too much before he went to his pack and grabbed the now somewhat crumpled paper and his own quill and ink. He couldn’t help but grin, knowing that both of them had the intention to learn to communicate with one another.

Soulbound:

Essence – 44

Level – 6

Vitality – 16 [27]

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9 [15]

Skill – 8 [12]

Intelligence – 12

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

Equipment:

Helmet – Faenhold Soldier Helmet [High]

Vitality +3

Fire Resistance +2%

Chest – Faenhold Soldier Leather Armor [High]

Vitality +4

Fire Damage +3%

Arms – Faenhold Soldier Bracers [Adequate]

Strength +2

Hands – Royal Faenhold Silk Gloves [High]

Skill +4

Rogue Soul Skill Damage +3

Belt – Faenhold Soldier Belt [High]

Strength +4

Warrior Soul Skill Cost -2%

Legs – Faenhold Soldier Pants [Adequate]

Vitality +2

Boots –

1h Weapon –

Off hand – Knight Shield [Adequate]

Vitality +2