Dawn had come to greet the Remington homestead once more, though the crowing of the rooster was absent. It felt like a bad omen as many in the Remington family awaited for the old familiar “Cock-a-doodle-doo” that greeted them every morning for the past three years only to be met with a deafening silence that blanketed the entire farmstead. The anticipation of it was the worst. One would know that it wouldn’t come, but you could still feel it. The brothers had hardly slept, knowing that today would be the start of their journey. Jacob was prepared, having packed himself with everything needed to survive while Joshua couldn’t help but feel an uneasiness about him. There was a sense of dread that hung over his head like a storm cloud. What had he agreed to? What had his brother gotten them into? Why was Jacob so on edge? These questions littered in Joshua’s mind.

As Ulysses and Illyana tied one of the family’s wagons to Ulysses’s horse, the brothers would say their goodbyes. Joshua gave Diana a loving kiss.

“I’ll come back, my darling.” Joshua ran his thumb across Diana’s cheek. “But if anything happens, I want you to just keep surviving. The farm is yours and the kids.”

Diana kissed his cheek. “Until you get back.”

“...Until I get back.” He had his doubts, but Diana gave him that bit of hope he needed.

Jacob held Fiona tightly in his arms, rocking her from side to side very slowly and gently, as if in a slow passionate dance. Tears ran down from Fiona’s cheek, for she knew that Jacob and Joshua were about to walk into danger. They said nothing, pronouncing their love for each other with heartfelt kisses. The two men would say their goodbyes to their respective children. As they did, Jacob and Fiona’s eyes met for the briefest of moments before Fiona looked away awkwardly. Jacob sighed before heading to Ulysses and Illyana, with Joshua close behind them. They would board the cart, waving to their families as Ulysses began to drive the cart. The children gently sobbed as they saw their fathers leave for what may be the final time.

Tears ran down both the eyes of the wives, and their husbands, the soft hearted Joshua especially. He stood up, nearly falling off the cart to address Dianna. “I’ll see you again, beloved!”

The brothers and their families continued to wave until the cart would vanish out of the family’s view as it dipped beyond the horizon, ducking under the many hills. A feeling of something passing washed over them, but the older sons of the family were the men of the homestead now. It was their duty as good sons to provide for their mothers, protect their siblings, and to see the farm stand back on its feet once again.

For the next few days, the four traveled down the winding road throughout Sigurdsehre. The brothers would travel further than either of them had ever dared to tread, further and further from home. With each new step they grew more apart from their loved ones.

Their journey would be halted at one point. Coming from the opposite direction as them, and taking up the entire road was a large legion of men. While driving the cart, Ulysses pulled over to the side of the road, parking the cart under a tree.

“Alright everyone, get comfortable, we’re going to be here for a while.”

Illyana rose from her slumber, peeking her head out from the covers. She was groggy and confused. “Ugh. Wha?”

Ulysses jumped off of the cart once it was parked and leaned back against it, taking a pipe out of his pocket and getting ready to smoke. “Looks like someone managed to get some more recruits to take up front.”

He looked around from soldier to soldier, looking for the banners to determine who was leading the legion. The air was filled with the soldiers singing a cadance as they marched onward, the young recruits hopeful of seeing their chance at glory arise over the next hill, while veterans like Ulysses and others in the legion knew better.

It wouldn’t take long for him to recognize the colors and banners of the legion that marched forth. The Banner bore three vertical lines. Two black lines on each side, and a red line in the middle. In the Red line was what appeared to be a golden warhammer, finely detailed. There were many variations of this banner, but all told the tale. This legion served one man. Not the barons that served under King Lautrec, but of the grand marshal, the master of the army. Cousin and friend to the king. Markus Harringoth: The Hammer of Sigurdsehre.

Ulysses blew smoke in their direction once he made the realization.

“Ah. So it's that bald ass.”

Illyana stepped off of the wagon and stood next to Ulysses.

“You know who’s leading this army?”

“Markus Harringoth is the meanest son of a bitch in all of Vanlandria, second only to Vedmaarvith. I was part of a different legion than his, but the man has a reputation for being a hardass. When he and King Lautrec are on the field, it's devastating. I heard that Markus was in charge of laying siege to an enemy stronghold. The Khanjiri forces were in that stronghold for months, and they had to get them out. Markus used a battering ram, but the Khanjir destroyed it. So what does Markus do? He smashes the gates with nothing but his warhammer. The son of a bitch actually managed to breach the gates and they stormed the fortress, winning the battle.”

Illyana listened intently to the tale, and imagined the scenes playing out in her head.

“Amazing. Where were you and your legion?”

“Well… I shoveled horse shit while the commanders were twiddling their thumbs.”

Illyana snorted and giggled lightly, shaking her head as she watched the soldiers march.

“So you weren’t in any big battles?”

“Oh I was in a few battles, but more often than not, I got stuck in solitary every now and then.”

“Why?”

“Problem with authority I suppose. They lumped me in with idiots who thought that their own personal honor and glory was more valuable than their men’s lives.”

He blew out some more smoke before putting his smoke out and laid down, his back supported by the tree.

“It's gonna be awhile before the army passes. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Legions were a great size, so it would take an hour or two before the army passed. Until then, Ulysses decided to take a nap while Illyana continued to watch the army march, singing their cadences as they went along.

Half an hour passed, and the army still marched onward to parts unknown. Joshua slept peacefully under the same tree that Ulysses used. As he slumbered, he felt a tickle on his nose. He wiggled his nose, roused from his sleep thanks to the feeling. When the feeling persisted, he scratched his nose, but missed whatever caused him the discomfort. Keeping his eyes closed, he brushed his fingers against his nose, only to still feel the itch. He grumbled as he attempted to stay asleep.

“Jacob, stop it…”

Jacob stood confused, He was resting in the cart.

“Stop what?”

“The thing with my nose, stop it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just like we were kids, you’d use a leaf or a feather or something and claim there was a spider on my face.”

“Yeah…”

“You’re doing it again.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are! I can feel you doing it!”

“Josh, I’m in the cart.”

Joshua opened his eyes and saw that he was telling the truth. He was greeted by the sight of the most ugly spider he had ever seen. It was a large, fat, and especially grotesque ogre faced spider. Its fat body was countered by its long, slender, gangly, needle like legs that looked as if they could pierce skin. Its face was less spider-like and more like a hideous gaunt angry man. The eyes on its face were tiny save for two binocular eyes that were much larger than the other eyes. The large eyes were pitch black and soulless. It looked upon Joshua with a cold inhuman glare. All at once, Joshua realized why the Ogre faced spider was so fat. That wasn’t its body, but its young clinging to their mother.

Joshua screamed violently, brushing his face frantically trying to rid himself of the ghastly creature. He screamed loudly enough to get the attention of the soldiers who were passing by, who looked at him strangely. He shocked Ulysses from his rest, who drew his sword out and looked around frantically. All eyes were soon upon Joshua who stomped at where he thought the spider was. He screamed frantically.

“Spider! Spider!!!”

Jacob went over to console his brother.

“There there, It's alright Joshua. It's dead. Nothing to worry about.”

Ulysses put his sword away and looked puzzled at Joshua. The largest man of the group was cowering like a child over a spider.

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

“The hell is with him?”

“Joshua’s always been afraid of spiders ever since he was a baby. A spider bit him, and he’s been deathly afraid ever since.”

“Right…”

The group would wait for the next half hour until finally the legion had passed, and the group would continue to make their way to their destination.

Joshua kept swatting at himself, checking behind his ears, or perking up whenever he felt his skin crawl for the next few days, utterly terrified of finding another horrid creature like that. As soon as they had the chance, he took a bath in a river, scrubbing himself clean again and again.

Finally, after a week and a half of traveling, they came upon their destination. The town of Hawthorn laid before their eyes. The town itself stood in good condition, though it wore its age upon its sleeves. There was a sense of antiquity around the town with how it was designed and how the people carried themselves. The buildings on the outside were newer, more modern houses in the age with shingled roofs and cobblestone foundations, while buildings closer to the center of town were older and showed their age as moss and vines grew in the residential gardens.

It was a dark and cloudy day, which matched the mood of the residents in the town, for they were all being watched by what many of the townsfolk would compare to a vulture sitting on its perch. Even a blind man would know where the damned thing was. It casted a great shadow over the town as it sat there. That thing there. That loathsome thing must have been Hawthorn house.

It seemed to be built from the ruins of an old, decrepit fortress that once stood guard over the people of the area, but now looms over them with all the malice of a predatory bird. The house stood out like a wolf among sheep, its windows were blackened like the eyes of some unfeeling remorseless creature. Its brick walls were aged, dulled and overgrown with vines, yet behind the old and withered frame it stood stronger than any of the town's newer buildings. The house had many spires that reached high in the sky, as if a cat raising its claws before striking down on an unsuspecting mouse.

Facing the rear of the house was the sea, which was now dark and churning. A storm was blowing in. The air around the town was thick with an uneasy sense of dread, which made the four in the wagon unnerved. Ulysses saw how the townsfolk looked at them, turning their sullen eyes away as if watching a criminal walking to the gallows. They rode on through the town, taking the wagon to the stables. By the time they were done, the rain had come and poured down upon them. Very quickly the ground became muddy and hard to walk through. They would need a place to stay until the storm passed. Entering the Inn all at once, they were greeted as all outsiders were usually met. Long stares from the townsfolk, music from the bard taking a pause, and any crumb of merriment the patrons might have had left escaped through the door as they entered.

The rest of the group went to find some seats while Ulysses went to the Innkeeper.

“Well met.”

The Innkeeper remained silent, cleaning out a glass pint and seemed to ignore Ulysses. Ulysses cleared his throat.

“I said, ‘Well met.’ Do, uh… you have trouble hearing, friend?”

“Nope.” The Innkeeper said this as matter-of-fact as possible, focusing on cleaning his mug before setting it aside to begin cleaning another one.

“You… have any rooms available for a group of four?”

“One room, two beds. Not enough.”

“I-I mean we’ll take it if it's all there is available.”

“Eeeyup.”

“So… what can you tell me about Hawthorn house?”

The Innkeeper raised his bushy gray eyebrow, and the silence in the building was all the more deafening. Several patrons began to leave the Inn, placing their money on the bar before patting Ulysses on the back without saying a word. He sat there looking confused. The other three who sat at their table looked puzzled.

The Innkeeper leaned forward and looked Ulysses in the eye.

“Now you listen to me and you listen good, son. I don’t know what you want with that place, but I’m telling you right now, it ain’t worth it.”

“There's a girl who’s supposed to be in there. We took a bounty to-”

“Then she’s dead. She was dead the moment the silly tart walked in that house. She’s lying, festering, and stinking in the earth. Leave now, and you won’t end up like her.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Not from me. That's a warning.”

The conversation was interrupted by an old, haggard voice.

“Why bother saving him, Bran? We know his type. No matter what we tell him, he’s gonna go in.”

The old man sat looking out of the window, keeping an eye on the house. He stopped his peering in order to watch Ulysses. He gestured for Ulysses to come, and so he did. He sat down across from the old man.

“Maybe you can tell me about Hawthorn house.”

“Aye. I can tell you about Hawthorn house. I can tell you a lot about that place. No matter what I tell ya, you’ll still go in. Same as every other damn fool.”

“This isn't the first time?”

“Oh no. You’re not the first to wanna go in. Ya won’t be the last. That place. It hungers. It draws fools like you to it, like a moth to a flame, one way or another. It always finds reasons and means to do it. Somehow it always does.”

“...The house?”

“The house. Though it's more like a plague on us all. That thing is evil. Pure evil.”

“Tell me about it then. What makes that house so evil?”

“Why should I tell you? You won’t listen. They never listen.”

“Are you going to tell me what in the hell is going on or are you just going to keep saying how bad the house is without explaining it? Because this is getting ridiculous.”

“Fine. I suppose you’ll be slitting your own throat one way or another.”

The old man took a deep breath and looked over to the innkeeper. “Bran! Give me a pint.” He waited for a brief moment as the innkeeper filled up a tall glass and delivered it for the elder.

“Here ya go, boss. This one’s on the house.”

The old man took the large pint and took one large drawn out gulp before setting the drink down, exhaling as if a dragon breathing fire as the drink burned the old man's throat.

“This town was founded over two hundred years ago. The founders; the first settlers in this area were the Hawthorns. They were noble folk who lived in the capital. See, fishing in this area makes quite a pretty copper. So long as there's fish living in the waters, no one has to go hungry. The Hawthorns basically had a gold mine; that and they wanted to build their house here. That hill was where an old fortress sat, back in the Golden Kingdoms days. Lovely place, it was. For a time, everything was good. The town prospered; money began to grow, more houses were being built, people came in. For many years, we didn't have a care in the world.”

“Then, one day; about ninety years ago, things started taking a turn. Isaiah Hawthorn inherited the house and land. He was different: stayed up late at night to the wee hours of the morning, he was more interested in older things like books or something, and when he got older he started to act weirder. He wanted to learn magic, you see.”

Ulysses raised an eyebrow and leaned closer to the old man.

“Learn magic? Was he even born with the gift?”

“Oh no. That's just the thing, he wasn't. He was envious of mages, and since he had no magic in his blood, then he wanted to gain magic.”

“That's impossible.”

“So we all thought. He went away for ten years, traveling around the world to look for anything that could give him power. Whatever he found changed him forever. It was almost like he wasn’t human anymore. He had large eyes, larger than normal, and they looked at you with some sort of strange hunger, like he could bite your head off at a moment's notice. There was more: his face was gaunt, his limbs were longer than normal, he was as white as a sheep. It was like something was wearing his skin. He went into his house and no one ever saw him again. We heard things: strange whispers in the night in some dread language I can’t even begin to utter, lights that shined brightly with strange otherworldly colors.”

“About a week after Isaiah's return was when the first disappearances happened. Children went missing after dark. Drifters far from town would stay, but never leave. When we presumed that Isaiah had passed, we alerted his next of kin. They went in, but never came out. After that, the town began to panic. Whatever Isaiah had brought over here possessed that house. We’ve tried everything: burning it, chopping it, smashing the supports for the thing to fall into the sea… nothing works. Everything we do, it always ends up the same: the fire goes out, the axes shatter, we used several bulls to pull the supports, but they ended up breaking their necks. After that, we just gave up. If we couldn’t destroy it then maybe we could starve it or something.”

“Starve it? You think that house is alive?”

“Oh it is, son. It's alive and it’s hungry. We told our children never to enter the house. Most of them listen. We always get travelers though who come here specifically to see the house. Fools walk in thinking that there's no real danger. That girl you talk about; the baron's daughter? One of those fools. That sweet dumb tart and her friends thought that the house just had a ghost and wanted to try to banish it or something. None of them ever returned.”

“So she’s in the house?”

“What's left of her. That thing has already consumed her. She’s dead, and unless you wanna die too, you’ll go back and tell her father as such. Tell him that there's nothing left of her. Tell him not to come here, because there's nothing here for him. Nothing but heartache.”

“I can’t just leave. I have to find her. Her father is paying a lot of gold. I have to keep looking.”

“Then you’re a dead man. You and everyone you brought with you. You poor, dumb, sorry fools.” He stood up and looks at the rest of the group. “All of you! You’re all fools! Leave and forget about gold or saving some poor girl. Save your own skins!”

The old man hobbled out of the Inn, leaving Ulysses and the group alone with their thoughts. Ulysses went over to sit with his companions.

“Well, that could have gone better.”

“We have to look for her either way, don't we?” asked Jacob in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know. I’ve seen fear in people, and I know if they are faking it. That man is truly frightened by something.”

“Well, we have no choice. We can’t go back to the farm empty handed.”

“Agreed. However, I think we should at least think about it for a day.”

“Think about it? Every day we waste is a day that our families go hungry. I can’t abide by that.”

“At least give us time to settle in before we do anything.”

Illyana leaned in closer to whisper. “Ulysses has a point. We just arrived here.”

“All the more reason to start searching.”

“We’ll leave it to a vote. I vote that we spend a day resting.”

Ulysses raises his hand, followed by Illyana. Joshua looks at everyone as he tried to decide. Ulysses leaned closer to Joshua.

“Well, Josh, you’re the deciding factor here.”

Joshua looked around and then looked at his brother before slowly raising his hand up. Jacob blinked and seemed confused.

“J-Josh! What the hell?”

“We’re all tired from the trip. Let’s have at least one day to settle in.”

“Settle in?! Our family!”

“They’ll be fine, Jacob. It’ll be just for one day and then we can continue on. Okay?”

Defeated, Jacob shrugs and slammed his fist on the table. “Gods Damn your eyes! Fine. We’ll wait a day, but not a second more!”

“Fine then. But not a minute sooner.” Ulysses stood up and went to the Innkeeper to rent out some rooms. The Innkeeper wouldn’t look them in the eye. He knew a fool when he saw one.