The lake was coming ever closer and Cormac and Aviana both felt the pressure grow. They were lucky, all things considered. The tunnel lead to a very remote location, one where no watchmen were garrisoned and the locals heard nothing of what happened.
But they were heading back into the lake Salvatoris valley, meaning that they would cross paths between major cities. One of those being the very capital itself.
They could do nothing but steel their resolve and go on with the path.
Thankfully, they were at least on the right coast of the giant lake. And the remains of Ingluvies were close.
First signs of the village were the burnt trees. The forests suddenly came to a halt, opening to a wasteland.
The ashen trunks and dry dirt roads brang about a somber atmosphere. The jabs and conversation that Aviana and Cormac shared gave way to loud silence.
They were walking through devastation and bad circumstances remind of bad memories.
Cormac felt his grip on the strap tighten, at the image of Norman. How the teacher looked at him, the confusion he felt. It was scary, the whole of it.
Aviana grew restless. She never once doubted her decision to help Cormac. She might have felt it an obligation before, but not now. She liked the idea of doing good for the sake of good. Trying to catch an evil-doer, just for the fact that he does evil. But the atmosphere around the burned plains made her second guess herself.
She had heard about the incident. About how the lord supposedly turned mad and killed off everyone in the entirety of the village. But it was something else altogether to see the destruction in person.
There was no smoke, the devastation had stopped and been silent for some time now. But it's consequences were terrible.
Filled with all the memories of bright green forests, of healthy streams and herds of animals. Aviana was once again faced with the bile of the world.
I made the right decision. She thought. Nobody should see this alone.
But her resolution was challenged yet again, when the remains of the village came into view.
The houses had been built in much the same way that was customary for the villages they passed through before. The base of stones and cobble, with wooden walls and a roof of tiles or thatch above it. But here, only the empty bowls of stones remained of most houses.
Some were left less touched by the burning flames that had to dance through the settlement, having a roof and walls still.
Though these lucky ones were in no better state. Their roofs sunken into the building, the walls fallen.
Cormac couldn't explain how he felt at the moment, had someone asked him that.
He was terrified. All the kind people they had met on their travels flashed through his mind. Their houses reminiscent of what was here. He couldn't grasp the idea, that people similar to them might have lived here. Might have suffered such a fate. The desolate settlement whispered the atrocities that took place there, as if it was trying to scare Cormac...no, not scare. It baited him forward.
He did not know what was the source of the voices, or what their ultimate goal was. But the whispers of the disgusting acts grew louder as he walked in the village.
There was a certain path they wanted him to take, growing in volume where he walked. He followed them. He knew not why, but they lead him and he would follow.
Then they stopped abruptly and Cormac knew exactly why.
The mansion of the crazed lord stood before him. Untouched, yet unnerving like nothing else.
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Something was waiting for him inside.
The cowardice he managed to exile had shown it's face again. Grasping Cormac's control of his legs. He stood there, frozen.
"Cormac. I don't like this." Aviana stood further away, unwilling to walk closer to the mansion. They came so far...but from what she felt. What awaited inside did not seem worth it. Whatever was there.
"Neither do I." said Cormac, as he pushed the rising cowardice away. "But I have a responsibility here, remember?" he looked back at her with a smile. "But you can wait here, if you want. I doubt anybody is in there. Plus, we need to be on the lookout from the watchmen."
"Are you sure?" she asked, her fear of the building betrayed in her words.
"I am. Wait for me here please." She did so, as Cormac entered the mansion.
The trail was hot, much hotter than it had been for days. Gavin could practically see the thread he was following. For some reason, everything seemed more and more...charged. It worried him.
He could see that Hank was in much the same condition, shooting glances at their surroundings. Something felt bad here...sinister...rotten. There was magic at play, magic that Gavin couldn't decipher.
Magic that must have done something terrible.
His heart quickened as he was coming closer to the place of his birth. His eyes took on all that he could.
Then he noticed it, the burnt trees in the distance. He stopped abruptly, as did his heart. Then he began his sprint. He heard his captain shout behind him, he heard the heavy steps as Hank started running, but he paid it no mind.
He was running home, running through plains of devastation. The little hope he had burning away with every step.
The mansion inside looked as untouched as it did from the outside. Dust and ash coated all the expansive furniture in the rooms, as well as the paintings. Cormac's sense of foreboding grew loud enough to noise his ears.
But the rooms revealed nothing so far. He had walked through the dining room, the bedroom chambers, the common rooms and he ended up in a library. They were almost unbelievably normal, though more lavish than a local lord could normally afford. In that, the library was still the winner.
The collection of books was extensive, the bookcases laden with gold and works of art. The reliefs showcasing the myths of old.
But there, Cormac heard the voices again. Though they were just whispering. Whispering gently, so gently that he might have overheard them, if he breathed normally.
He walked towards the source of the sound.
There was another bookcase there, though it somehow seemed older than the rest. The books had a solid layer of dust over them, most names undecipherable under the coat. Except one book, one that had next to no dust on it at all.
The book of Hurrig, the book of the elder king. He hefted it from its place and a click, sounded as he did so.
The bookcase moved with the straining of iron on iron. And as the giant bookshelf turned around it revealed a simple door in the wall.
Cormac slowly put his hand on the handle, slowly he pulled the door open.
The room was small and dark, with only the light from the library escaping into it. Cormac had to look for a candle to light, before coming inside.
The room was narrow, with only a simple desk and a bunch of papers and books thrown around.
The pages were written with a hasty writing, which was intangible to read. Whoever was trying to write here must have been in a hurry.
The books were mostly in languages that Cormac did not understand and the rest did not reveal anything of importance.
But there must have been something. Cormac violently ruffled through the stacks of papers and books, but no answer presented itself.
He threw the papers around in a fit of anger. If there was nothing here, that just meant that he had nothing to go on, nothing to make sense out of his situation.
He headed out from the little room, prepared to look over the rest of the house again, when he that noticed the book that opened the room before, had a soft glow on the cover.
He brough it inside the small room and it suddenly illuminated everything inside.
The words on the papers reassembled as did the papers themselves, the languages shifted back to the only one he knew.
But most importantly, the book of Hurrig, changed its very name.
The book of Hurrig, the book of the sunken one. It read. Cormac prepared himself to open the book, when a familiar voice interrupted him.
"Please wait, if you may, my liege." said the man Cormac met twice before. "I have something of great importance to...say to you. And I am incredibly sorry for this, but you will have to just listen."
Cormac wanted to say something, but he couldn't. He felt his throat tighten as he tried to speak.
"I was to offer you a choice right at this moment, or more accurately a warning of sorts. That book," he pointed. "Will indeed reveal the first part of what you need to know, but that knowledge will stop any chance of a normal life for you. If you learn, what that book has to offer, you will never have the option to go back to your life."
I couldn't go back now anyway. Thought Cormac.
"Now, you might think something along the lines, that you have no way to go back to the way things were anyway, but you do. I have it on good authority, that your name would have been cleared before you managed to get yourself executed. You and your girl friend both, would be free to live your mundane lives again. If you do not read the book."
"Unfortunately, that is all I can offer you at the moment, except this." the man threw a book on the table, then gazed at Cormac for a little bit before adding. "But I think that we will see each other again fairly soon." then, as unceremoniously as he did before, he vanished again.