Despite the unfavorable conditions, Sera clung to the thought of finding a warm safe-haven. She had been on this terrible, muddy road for two days and the storm clouds above had never relented. Her stolen black cloak was completely soaked through and the damp was chilling her to the bone. In her hurry to escape she had not considered the weather, the mud, or just how long it would take to get to Tumville given the conditions. The map on the wall of the farmhouse was not very useful to her now that she was far away on yet another wet afternoon.
The sky was gray and swirling. A steady drizzle pounded relentlessly onto Sera. Tiny drops drummed on the hood of her cloak and the back of her horse. Her companion, Buck, had been a steady worker and her favorite out of the whole stable. With a deep chestnut color, black mane, short legs, and dark eyes he possessed a certain simplicity that was endearing to her. Her worries had grown for him as the storm had raged on and the mud grew ever deeper. She had to be on constant vigil of uneven ground and obstacles as a broken leg could mean the demise of not only Buck but herself as well. Cold and wet were things that she could endure, if only for a time, but horses were more fragile. So she took great care in the meager fires she made for him out of whatever damp wood she could find. It was all she could muster just to stave off the cold.
As they crested the hilltop her face lit up with a grin. She could see a great pillar of smoke rising up like a great gray trunk to meet the canopy of the clouds. It was the first sign of life they had encountered during their descent into the valley.
Surely, a product of everyone tucked away at home next to their fires, she thought with envy.
“Come on Buck,” she said, presenting the last of the dry hay after retrieving it from her pack, “Just a bit longer!”
The promise of rest, and doubtless the prospect of food, caused Buck’s gait to take on a renewed vigor. With their pace increased considerably they soon conquered the many hills in the valley to come upon the exterior of Tumville. The town was not large by any means, but large enough that the residents had deemed it necessary to erect a wooden fence around it. She also discovered an actual watchman on duty. It seemed just her luck after the trials of her journey. Her hopes of coming into town unseen and inconspicuously had been dashed but he still posed little obstacle. She lamented her tribulations with the mud and cold at great length to the guard. She made sure to toss in how she “simply needed a place to rest” and “had been traveling alone in the rain” to evoke as much sympathy as possible.
The guard gave her an incredulous look. With her red hair turned brown from the damp and her weighed down cloak she was certain that she looked like some kind of rodent. Upon inspection the night watchmen found that the saddlebags on Buck’s haunches were full of spare bridles, the remnants of hay, an old tarp tent, and some farriers gear in case of an emergency. With nothing of suspicion on her person, he quickly directed her to the nearest tavern and opened the gate for her to enter the town.
The tavern she was directed to was a couple of blocks down the main path that ran through the majority of the town. A few horses were tied up at the hitching post in front with some water and feeding bags. Sera directed Buck up to it and tied his reins to the post. It would have to do until she could find him a proper stable.
She lept off his back and felt the weight of her soaked cloak fall heavily back down onto her. With a deft hand she began to take stock of her belongings. Everything had succumbed to the damp to a certain degree. Carefully she reached in to grab the tarpaulin. Trying not to force water further into the bundle she fiercely flapped the square of fabric sending the largest of the droplets flying. A bit of fear ran up her spine as she realized it was damp further into the center. With hurried hands she pulled the rest of the package apart to reveal the precious cargo within.
Her most precious belonging had quickly become the yellowed letter she now beheld. The letter had appeared one night beneath her pillow in the barn quite inexplicably. She wondered at first if it had been something long forgotten in the hay pile that was her bedding but soon she became enamored with the mystery of it. A blue stamp with a bird in flight had once secured it shut, but had been shorn cleanly with a letter opener. The message inside was written in swirling, clean handwriting and had said:
“If you are reading this then it is likely that I am already gone. My hope lies within my little girl Sera. It is likely that the truth about her and I will come to light in Murholdt. Please learn to live a life without me. Find your own hope and keep yourself safe.
With love,
Liara Fostaine”
Her mother’s name on the letter had sent her reeling when she had first read it.
If this letter was always meant for me, she wondered, how was it lost for so long? What had happened in Murholdt? Who could have possibly delivered the letter to my barnhouse loft?
Annika, her “caretaker” and employer at the farm, had told her nothing about her mother except for her name. Whether out of cruelty or ignorance Sera could not say. Annika had been charged with her care by what she called a “churchly man to whom she owed a debt”. Her “care” consisted mostly of manual labor, an occasional hot meal, and meager accommodations in the loft of the barn. She refused to speak of the past in any way and she would grow angry at any questioning.
Whenever Sera had been allowed into Annika’s house her vision had always been drawn to the map on the wall. It had seemed to taunt her with the prospect of somewhere, anywhere else. Murholdt had only two towns over down the eastern road to her memory.
It could not be that far of a ride, she had hoped before she left. It was barely two finger widths apart from the rough, red “X” that marked the farmstead on the map.
Over and over again the thoughts of leaving overwhelmed her as she tossed and turned in the loft at night. Attending the horses, pigs, and goats on the farm left her mind to idly wander. In her wanderings were plans of stealing away with a horse and some supplies to find the truth for herself.
Eventually the thoughts became hopes and hopes became actions. She had decided to take Buck and head off eastwards.
Standing in the rain now, looking at the letter that had miraculously escaped the wet, she finally understood the weight of her choices. Just as her belongings grew heavier as the rain soaked in, so too had the weight of her choices been growing in her mind. She had left and stolen a horse.
I can never go back.
Her hand shook a bit as she held the letter. Taking a deep breath she folded the letter carefully back in half and placed it into the envelope gently. Her success with her previous plan to preserve the letter had worked made her confident in the tarp and so the letter was placed back into the center of the bundle which was then placed back into the saddlebags.
Buck was contentedly enjoying the feedbag and trough. Usually he would complain and shift as she jostled his saddle but he seemed excited by the prospect of rest.
Not a single thought is passing through that head, she thought, he has earned that for a bit after all of his hard work.
Sera scratched along the long, wiry hairs of his neck for a moment before steadying herself. Directions, food, and perhaps a safe place to sleep all lay within the tavern. The light of many lanterns shone out past the open door of the establishment. The song of casual conversation echoed out in a muddled, varied tone.
Upon entering there was a crushing wall of bodies like she had never experienced before. People were crowded all around her having their drink and merriment. Bodies pushed and bumped into each other in the cramped space. She could not understand how anyone could hear each other over the din. Stepping too close to a table revealed that the patrons had taken to simply yelling across their tables at each other.
Using her small stature she weaved and weaseled her way up to the bar. The well-worn barstools were mostly filled and so she felt grateful to have found one for herself at the very end. The stool wobbled from its uneven legs as she clambered onto it.
“Excuse me?” she said in her most polite voice. Her attempt to gain the barkeep's attention did not carry above the buzz of conversation. Perhaps a bit more force was necessary.
“Excuse me!?” she called out a bit more forcefully. Even at a yell her voice was drowned out. She frustratedly began to slam her hand on the counter to punctuate her voice.
“SIR, CAN I GET SOME SERVICE PLEASE?!”
The yell was successful it seemed. The bartender, who was a man with a rotund belly, gray mustache, and kind eyes, was now making his way towards her. However with a glance she quickly realized that the rest of the tavern was now also looking at her. The slamming on the counter had been enough to catch their attention. She slumped in her seat.
“Go back to your drinks!” The barman echoed out to the room as he began to walk. By the time that he arrived in front of Sera most of the people in the bar had turned back to their own merriment.
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The barkeep approached her with a bit of a bemused grin on his face.
“I noticed you when you sat up at the bar, my dear. Apologies for their stares.They’re quite wary of strangers. Now as you requested, I am at your service. What can I get for you? Something to drink or perhaps a hot meal to help you fight off the damp?”
“I need a few things but firstly I was looking for a place to stay. My horse and I have been on the road for days and I could use a good rest. How much would a room cost?” Sera pulled out the coin purse that she had brought with her.
“Two silver for the night. If you are wanting food and drink then it will cost you an extra silver.”
Nodding, she began contemplating the contents of her wallet. Silvers were few and far between on the farm and were only given on special occasions. While the coin purse was heavy from the sixty-odd bronze coins it held, only four silvers shone out from the dull pile. Trying not to grimace she deftly plucked three of them out and placed them into the man's hand.
He smiled, walked a few steps away, and returned with a key. A paper tag held on by a ratty string labeled it as belonging to “Room 14”. A mug of brownish liquid and a bowl of a white stew were also presented to her. The drink tasted like bread that had been left to stale too long and the stew tasted mostly of cream. There were tiny slivers of some gray, indeterminate meat sprinkled throughout that gave it some flavor at the least.
Hunger had gotten the best of her. Despite her best attempts to stop herself, the promise of a warm meal overwhelmed her and she ate voraciously. Even the tankard with its watery swill was empty by the time she was done.
Having had her fill, she looked around at the other patrons to see how they interacted with the barman. A patron raised their hand and were readily tended to. These were just customs that she would have to learn. She raised her hand in a similar manner to the patron further down the bar. It was not longer than a minute or two before the jolly man came and swept away the bowl and refilled the tankard. Before he could run off, she raised her voice again.
“Could you tell me how to get to Murholdt?” she asked, trying to sound as confident as possible.
“Murholdt!?” he said with a bit of shock in his voice, “Now why would you want to go to a blighted place like that?”
“It is a town just like this one right? Just a bit east of here on the map?” Her confidence had quickly evaded her upon seeing his reaction.
“Well yes, it is just down the wooded road down the right side of the fork. That is not really the issue though, lass. The Church has declared it blighted. No passage into the town is to be abided by God-fearing folk”
Annika had thrown around the word ‘blighted’ from time to time. The way she spoke of it, it was a way for the Church to scoop up more and more land while claiming the presence of monsters.
“There is someone that I need to find there. I can not worry too much about where the church wants to place their new stained glass castle,” Her tone was flippant, “Could you just tell me how long it will take to get there?”
A gruff voice interjected.
“There is evil in that place. At least one demonic presence. Orders of Blight come down directly from the Cruor!”
The man sitting beside her had taken note of the conversation. His eyes were dull from drink and his breath smelt of beer when he spoke. His plainclothes were soiled and the buttons of his shirt lay undone revealing a medallion hanging at his neck. A circular sigil adorned with numerous arms, a distinctive symbol of his unwavering devotion to the Faith. The humble iron from which it was crafted hinted at his modest means and distinguished him as one of the less fortunate followers
Sera had heard of the Cruor and his work at the head of the Church. He was spoken of in bold statements of faith during the services Annika had dragged Sera to. A vetted and elected official to represent the holiness of God and those powers which he had bestowed on his followers. A powerful person, truly, but Sera saw no reason that this man would invoke him here. Any power that he or his followers had was far away in the capital of Glastenburg.
“Well the Cruor is not here and he is not going to help me find anyone. Given that, I think I am within my rights to go see for myself” Sera pulled on her bag and got off of her stool.,“Besides that, I think I can very well take care of myself. Thank you for your concern though. I will not distract you from your drinking any longer.”
The drunken man’s rough, cracked hand grabbed her by her arm. He had a look of anger and disbelief on his face as he loomed over her.
“Do you not understand the danger that you would be walking into? Even one demon can kill several strong men. What makes you so certain you will find the person you are looking for?” The expression on his face soured as it seemed a thought had sparked in his alcohol-riddled brain.
”Only a Godless person would go somewhere taken by blight,” his eyes had a crazed look about them now, “Perhaps you are going there to find what you are looking for. A place for your evil to fester? Or maybe you are just returning to your kin? Sinners and thieves often lose themselves to the Dark Spirit!”
He glanced out towards Buck.
“You are a bit young to afford a horse aren’t you? Now tell me, girl, where exactly did you come upon such fortune?”
The man’s fervor and volume was gaining some attention. People were beginning to look at them now with cold, serious faces. Sera tried to pull her arm away but he held firm with a terrifying strength. Fear took hold of her expression and she could feel the tears of panic welling in her eyes.
“Please let go of me! I didn’t steal anything. I just want to go!” she began to plead. She continued to try to pull away but he grabbed her other shoulder in response.
“Now I am almost certain. No explanations but you will protest the accusation. You are a thief wanting to go to a damned place. What evil plot has sent you to our town, demon?!” He shook her with a rough urgency, as if to punctuate each of his slurred statements.
Patrons had begun to stand up and gather around. The buzz of conversation was now talking about her. She couldn’t escape him and she certainly couldn’t escape this crowd.
“Speak!” He commanded.
“Please..,” the meager squeak was all Sera could manage.
“Perhaps we should let you explain your story to the guard. If you are lucky you might even meet a Bloody Gavel if one is in town.”
With his strength he began to pull her towards the door.
“NO!” she cried. Her breath had quickened. Her vision began to turn white as her air left her. Then suddenly a flash of violet forced its way into her vision and the world was filled with the sound of crackling air around her.
As her vision returned she saw the drunkard lying on the floor. His hands had steam flowing off of them in sheets as he writhed in pain.
“She truly is a demon!” he yelled to the crowd, “Her skin burned the flesh of a man with virtue in his blood.”
Sera was unsure of what had happened, as were the rest of the tavern goers. Everyone was still trying to process what had happened. Several of them had run to the sides of the room or fallen to the floor at the sudden sound and light. Between the bright light and the screams of pain it must have been quite a chaotic scene. Using this brief moment of confusion she pushed through the crowd and ran out of the door.
Quickly undoing Buck’s reins she hopped on his back just as a couple of the patrons made their way outside She kicked Buck into action and they began to run off through the mud.
Several people ran out of the doors of the tavern. They were too late to stop her escape but as she rode, the people yelled at her. They decried her with curses like “Pactless” and “Demon”. So many terrible things they had said. It was those names that rang in her mind long after she had set Buck to a trot. Her head throbbed with every beat of her heart. Feeling woozy, she pulled the reins and almost fell off of Buck once he stopped. Falling to her knees in the mud she could still feel the fear in her throat.
None of this is fair, she thought, I just have to figure it all out on my own? The thought made her angry and her fists clenched.
The anger steadied her but the emotions still welled in her chest. It felt like she was close to bursting. Climbing to her feet, she began to yell into the darkness of the woods. A guttural scream that was eventually cut by a choking sob. Sera silenced herself then. The tears could not be stopped but she swiped away the few that made their escape.
I’m all alone, her thoughts rang out. Her heartbeat felt like a thrumming river in her ears.
Her cheek was hit with sudden warmth as Buck’s nose touched it. She turned and took his long snout into an embrace. She rested her head between his big eyes. Feeling his breaths with her whole torso began to calm her. Her heart slowed after a time.
“Thank you Buck,” she said and her words were sweet honey, “You’re right. There’s no use in panicking now. Standing still won’t bring us food or a place to rest.” With a small grin she swung onto Buck’s back once more.
Buck did not move when at first she mounted him. Instead he craned his neck to look at her with his dark, round eyes.
“I promise that I will be alright, Buck. We just have to keep moving now,” she said while stroking his neck.
Buck snorted, waiting for a good long time to examine her, before slowly turning and making his way down the path.
Something had happened and I burned that man, she thought. They called me ‘pactless’, but what did that mean? There’s so much that I am unaware of. Even talking about the wrong thing can get people to turn on me that easily. What is the Church teaching them that they would call a thief a demon? Are not demons very few and far between?
The road finally reached its fork after some time. There was a city off to the north and she was sure that that northern path led to it.
It could not be more than a few days to get there, she thought dreamily, maybe I could find a new life there? Find some work outside the city and make a home for myself. How would I even go about that if I cannot even get directions without causing a scene?
Maybe this has all just been a bad dream, she lamented, hanging her head back. Her hood fell down and the rain began to fall on her face. It reminded her of days she spent lying on hay bails just staring at the swirling gray eternity while the storm peppered her.
Why am I thinking of the farm now? she thought sadly, I came here for a new life and the truth. I’ve never felt further from either.
Seraphina sighed. The packs still laid empty as she was unable to restock in the haste of her escape. Perhaps she should be more mindful of acquiring supplies first next time. If there even was a next time. There was still hope that some supplies could be acquired in Murholdt.
Running her hand through her hair she discovered that she was shaking again. She had already made this decision. Comfort and safety were things that she had cast away when she stole off into the night.
If I cannot have a new life then I suppose I should go find the truth.
Clicking her tongue, she pulled Buck towards the eastern path and onto the first of the forbidden grounds.