Late morning rolled around and the group was already up and saddled onto their horses. Zrokaan and Solomon waved goodbye to Kabaal as they left the old friend behind in Hensdrake. Continuing their journey to find the Seer.
Four hours had flown by and the sun was watching over the sky. Beaming its scorching heat into the dried cliff-faces that surrounded the group. The mountains had nothing to offer but silence and rocks.
The sound of hooves crunching gravel and small pebbles on the trail came to a halt as the leading horse stopped. Zrokaan turned to look over his shoulder to see his sweating followers curiously stop as he did.
“Is this it Gremoris?” Zrokaan asked, turning his head forward to point his chin at a wooden door crudely placed in front of a small cavern entrance.
Gremoris calmly led his horse next to Zrokaan to inspect what he was seeing. With a smile he looked at Zrokaan and nodded. “In the letter, she said we would find a wooden door in the mountains. This must be it.” Gremoris said.
Zrokaan nodded, getting off his horse to approach the wooden door. While at it, he took a peek in the small slits of the wood to take a look inside seeing nothing much but darkness. Zrokaan felt uneasy but forced himself to knock on the door.
‘Knock knock knock’
Solomon stood nearby with his hand on his hilt. Ana herself was curious to see a person who would condemn themselves to live in the mountains. While Gremoris held his arms together at the small of his back patiently awaiting for an answer. It was clear the entire group was eager to see the woman and what this entire trip would lead to.
A yellowed eye could be seen peering through the cracks of the wooden door. The eye gazed at the group inspecting each of them one by one. Seemingly satisfied by what it saw, the door was cracked open.
Standing defensively behind the door peering out was an unwashed elderly woman. Dirt stained her pale face.
The woman stared but said nothing. Zrokaan looked a bit clueless as to what to say or do. He decided on waving weakly at her.
“Hello. I am Baron Zrokaan.” He said, almost with a hint of self doubt.
“I know who you are.” The elderly woman said abruptly. “I, however, do not know the people standing behind you.” she stated
“Oh. These are my advisors. The big one over there is Solomon Ramuza. She is Ana Yanim and he is Gremoris Loc.” Zrokaan answered while gesturing to each of his advisors. Introducing them.
The elderly woman watched Zrokaan introduce each of them one by one. However she didn’t get any friendlier. She huffed and closed the door.
“Come in. Leave your friends outside!” The woman shouted through the door.
Solomon looked over to Zrokaan and folded his arms across his toned chest. “I don't think that's a smart idea. Going in alone.” Solomon said, expressing his concern.
Ana disagreed, shaking her head. She stood in front of Solomon and mimicked him by folding her arms under her breasts. “You don't think Zrokaan can handle one old lady?” she mocked with a stupid grin on her face.
Solomon rolled his eyes but said nothing in return. He wasn’t even going to entertain Ana with a response.
Gremoris ignored the two mocking one another and looked to Zrokaan “We will be here, my Baron. Yell if we are needed.” Gremoris said with a bow to his head.
Zrokaan nodded at Gremoris. He reached out to the splintered door knob and opened the door, seeing a dimly light corridor leading further into the cavern. Zrokaan crouched himself to walk through the low hanging cave mouth.
The sound of smashing glass could be heard coming from further down the corridor. The only source of light were sconces crudely placed into the stone walls each one leading a path of flickering light to the noise.
Zrokaan followed the sound to the end of the corridor, leading into a much larger room. The room had a meager bed slapped into its corner with dozens of bookshelves surrounding its entirety. The shelves were packed with parchment and alchemical resins. The kind of resins one would see in a healers infirmary.
To the far right of the room was the elderly woman standing in front of a squared table smashing something in front of her with a repeated motion.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“I am Heretta. Former Seer of the Kings court.” The old woman said, still continuing with her work on smashing whatever was in front of her.
Zrokaan’s curiosity peaked at an all time high. Before, he was interested. But now he really wanted to know why the former Seer of the Kings court was reaching out to him. And why she lived in the mountains
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Heretta,” Zrokaan gave a mild pause “You used to work for the King as his Seer?” He asked, almost not convinced of such a claim.
“I did.” she stated firmly. “Caldorey was insufferable to work with. I much prefer the peace these mountains offer me.” she said with a toothy grin. Her teeth were white and well looked after.
Heretta stopped smashing whatever was in front of her, and reached her frailed hand out to grab a used rag sitting next to her on the table. She used the rag to clean her hands and turned around to look at the Baron. Sitting on the table right behind her was a stone mortar with copious amounts of freshly made ward dust sitting in it.
Next to the mortar were five glowing stones, brilliantly illuminating the area with a blue hue. Each stone was carefully carved into a sphere with exact precision, something only a Seer could do.
“You are younger than I thought. Yet you are the only person in Ikorum who can stand against the King.” Heretta said inspecting the features of his face.
“To be honest with you, I am afraid of what the King could do. His army is much larger than mine and all of this fighting with the Old Clans has left me desperate. I don’t think I would be able to stand against the King, truthfully.” Zrokaan told Heretta.
“And that is why you come to me.” Heretta said, clearing her throat. “What if I tell you, the very thing I have in my possession can help you with your King problem. I only ask of two things in return.” Heretta said, raising two fingers up.
“I’m listening.” Zrokaan uttered quietly while folding his arms across his chest
“Firstly, you use what I give you to keep the King out of the Red March.” Heretta demanded.
“Ok. What is the second thing?” Zrokaan asked
“Lastly. You continue to rule in the best interest of your people. This is why I am entrusting with the runic.” Heretta said
Zrokaan smiles and offers Heretta his hand. Heretta takes his hand and shakes it. “It seems our ambitions align with one another. Deal.” Zrokaan says, shaking the old woman's frailed hand.
Heretta pulled her hand away from Zrokaan palm and limped her way to the other side of the room. She stopped next to a bookshelf and pushed the heavy obstacle off to the side. Zrokaan watched with curiosity as Heretta exposed the mouth of a small tunnel behind the bookshelf. Laid in the tunnel was a piece of thin white cloth wrapped around an object about the size of someone's hand.
Heretta bent over to grab the item, taking it into her hand. Once it was firmly held in her hand she then looked over to Zrokaan. She seemed reluctant in giving him the object, clutching it closely to her chest.
“Let me see your hand.” Heretta demands.
With a bit of hesitation in his action, Zrokaan lifts his hand up with his palm facing upward.
Suddenly a dagger was pulled out of Heretta’s backpocket. With one swift motion she gripped the handle tightly, pressing her thumb on the thin edge of the hilt and slicing the small blade horizontally across Zrokaan’s palm.
Zrokaan’s eyes popped up in surprise, quickly pulling his hand back. Fresh red blood trickled down his arm from the small cut on his hand. He watched in shock as it ran down his arm and to his elbow dripping down to the floor.
“What the hell was that for?!” Zrokaan spat out in annoyance
“I had to see.” Heretta said plainly.
“See what!?” Zrokaan shouted.
“..Nothing. Here.” Heretta said, handing him the object wrapped in white cloth.
Zrokaan stared at the object Heretta had in hand but hesitated in grabbing it. He glared at her for a moment then looked back at the object. With his healthy hand he reached for the object and took it.
The first thing he noticed was how heavy it was, next thing he could feel was how irregular its edges were. Almost like a rock purposely carved to be a certain shape.
He unwrapped the white cloth from the object to reveal a sickly green stone mixed with black undertones. Its edges were rocky but its face was smoothed into an impossibly marble-like texture. Carved at its center was a symbol of a circle sandwiched by two horizontal lines. Something completely unfamiliar to the Baron.
After a moment of inspecting the strange stone in his hand he looked up to the elderly woman with questions buried in his eyes.
“What is it?” he asked
“It is called the Runic. It beckons the Veiled Ones to its command.”
Heretta said with a sinister grin plastered to her face. “With it, you can challenge the King himself.” she added.
The Baron glanced back down at the stone and furrowed his brows. He couldn’t believe such a powerful artifact was laid in the palm of his hand. “This controls the Black Bloods? How does it work?” he asked
“When it begins to hum, you will know.” she muttered. “All will bow to you Great Baron,” Heretta bowed
“When it begins to hum. Hrm.” He quietly muttered to himself.
“Thank you Seer Heretta. Everything I do will be for the betterment of the Red March. This I promise.” Zrokaan said.
Heretta smiled and gave a single nod to her head. “I do not doubt you, Baron. Good luck and remember…use the Runic wisely. I have given it to you based solely on judgment. You are better off with it than I. Now go, the sun will soon set.” Heretta said, shooing him away with her frailed hand.