1450 of the Gregorian Almanac

Year 625 of Kollavarsham

Era of Vices

The sun was setting somewhere beyond, hidden behind the tall trees of the forest. The Warlock walked through the forest path, absently chewing on a paddy stalk that he had picked up a day ago. His black eyes darted here and there, absorbing the land. The forest had begun to take back the narrow path that was once a road through which they were making their way.

His companions were talking, he would have joined them, but he was feeling a strong sense of paranoia.

As they turned a bend, and took in the view of the forest, sprawled across the hill, a sound of a giggle filled the air. He knew then that the paranoia he had been feeling for some time was well-founded.

"We are almost there," spoke their Guide. He paused at the sound that echoed through the forest, "What was that?"

The Warlock cursed under his breath. His more sensitive ears could hear the sound of anklets chiming on the wood. It had been a while since he had heard anything other than cicadas and their mating calls. It was dusk, and the growing darkness worried him that they had lost their way. And the sound of human presence at the moment was not as comforting as it should be.

A sonorous laughter filled the air.

They had reached the destination a day early than he had expected. At a distance, standing in the middle of the forest, he could see the lights from a decade-old house, and by the...

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With the setting sun, he could see the rooftop of the house that would be the only source of light in the whole valley from the distance. The house was nestled in the valley, the winding path down the hill gave glimpses of the house from the distance.

Grey large trees lined the forest ground as far as the eyes could see. The house itself had been neglected, and the groves around it had spread into it as well.

He glanced at his fellow travelers. The huge warrior didn't look exhausted, but there was a tinge of worry in his eyes. The stringy guy who was their guide gulped at the sonorous laughter that echoed through the forest.

"Now is it possible that we took a wrong turn and could have reached our destination early?" the Warlock asked the Guide.

"No. The last time I was here, I had stayed with the family at the house. Supped with the master of the house," spoke the Guide, confused and terrified, suspecting his memory and senses.

"Seems like the house has been vacated for some time now," the Warrior spoke to his left. "She either had become able to reach out from the demi-plane far from where she had been imprisoned, or..." he looked at the poor man to the right.

"Or she had been able to reach out far before than we had thought, far before we had come to know about her," the Warlock finished the sentence in his head. "If their guide was compromised, he needed to reassess the situation, as all the things he thought he knew about the situation could be wrong."

The laughter reverberated through the forest again.

"Why does she give herself away?" asked the Warrior, readying his sword.

"No, it's a projection of herself that's making these noises. In a way, these are warnings given to us by the universe to make a run for it."

The sounds stopped.

"It stopped,"

"I know,"

"Why do you think so?"

The Warlock paused to look at the stringy guides whose mind could already have been compromised, who probably had walked them all into a trap. “Sadly the universe doesn’t talk to me.”

The Warrior nodded towards the winding path down. “Let’s start moving, darkness won’t be favoring us”

Seven minutes down the forest path, they ventured into a clearing before the mansion. The padippura, or the gatehouse of the mansion, looked dilapidated. Plasters on the wall were blackened with age, and cobwebs covered the rough, rotting corners of the roof.

At the steps stood a woman of unearthly beauty. A lady dressed in white.