The caravan came to a stop. Bexxy refused to move an inch further, she neighed horribly. Tiamael was silent, staring intently at the sprawling ruin, eyes alert. Every building was made of half-collapsed brick, stone and dead mortar. Moss and flora were growing everywhere inside the buildings. This place was dead.
This was her destination. Rennia couldn't believe it.
"Welcome to the Ebon Guild?" She said it like a question, and alarm bells started ringing in Rennia's head.
"No. No, this isn't it. This can't be it. There's nothing here."
Tiamael didn't answer her right away. Her face was tight, and she took a deep whiff of the air as if scanning for something. Rennia did the same, though she was sure her senses weren't half as sharp. There was an iron tang of something that had been scorched to the ground long ago. The rot was still fresh, wet rot, and old soot and smelly mud was everywhere on the dirt path.
Crows seemed to scatter overhead. A clearly visible human skull lay in the forest a distance away.
"But where is this master person? You both told me someone would receive me here."
"But there was... there still should be."
Rennia clutched Tiamael's sleeve, tugging hard, panic in her bones and in her lungs, made apparent by her breathing. She nudged and her nails started digging into Tiamael's clothing.
"You're taking me with you, right? There are things out here... along the road, I saw shadows, wild goblins, wild men, monsters. They'll do things to me. You can't leave me here."
Tiamael made a half growl, and Rennia pulled away frightened. She frowned sharply, almost angrily. "Grrrr... don't dig your nails into me, it hurts."
Rennia looked apologetic and frightened. She thought Tiamael was invincible. She breathed fire after all, so why would bits of nails hurt her? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I'm scared."
"You can't come with me and that's final. This is the safest place for you, Rennia. The inquisition will be out looking for you now, no doubt. Someone has reported the sight of a wild woman with a cock, terrorizing the residents of Kibblestadt."
To Rennia that felt like a slap in the face. There was no kindness in her words. Pure authority, command. And even though it sounded like Tiamael wanted to protect her, it didn't feel like it. It felt like the wrong kind of punishment.
Tiamael shrank her shoulders. "Look, look. I'll circle back around after my next job. You've got food for a while. Shelter, and there should be a basement in there, if it hasn't collapsed yet. I don't know what happened, and I don't know where the bitch is who runs this place. You have to stay in there at least temporarily."
"Yes." She hesitated. Her breath seemed to ignite, almost. Steam left it. "I haven't known you long, child of Ilna, and I wish I could. But for now you have to stay. I'll check on you soon. Then decide where to take you."
"But..."
Rennia knew it. She was going to die here, all alone and on her own. Something would get her. If it wasn't the ghosts of the past, it would be a marauding cave horde of goblins looking for their next tribal wife.
Curses. Damnation.
Rennia fell to her knees. The dirt pressed into her skin, sullying what cleanliness she had left after the long road.
I can't do this. I'm alone. I'm nothing without my class and my skills. I'll die.
Her back pressed up, and her shoulders tightened. Shivers. She swore something moved in the treeline. The shadows were all moving wrong. But then again, it could just have been her mind playing tricks on her. Right? Right?
Trembling, she forced herself upright. She found that Tiamael had already thrown her belongings on the ground. Rennia gave in, there was no way around it. At least no one would lynch her.
"Okay. I'll wait. I'll wait."
"No, I'm sorry. Your people have failed you. I promise I will return as soon as I can."
she swallowed her fear. "Goodbye Tiamael, sorry for being a nuisance."
"Goodbye, Rennia. Stay safe. Stay indoors."
The woman bounced onto her awkward caravan, threw the whip forward, and Bexxy had circled around. She waved to Rennia as she left waving Rennia looked at her one more time. Then she stood up, slowly stepping towards the inn. Her footsteps felt weak as she went. When the horse disappeared beyond the forest behind her, Rennia started hearin the wind giggle.
Madness.
She was going to go mad this early. The silence was crushing.
Rennia stared at the small holding that stood in front of her. All of it was burned or crumbled. There was a scorched but intact shed that looked eerily creepy. She wouldn't step foot in there. A tall three-story stone tower, much akin to the mage's tower in Kibblestadt. A windmill in the distance, broken enough so it couldn't oscillate, but flexible enough to shift left and right with the wind.
And in the center stood a collapsed tavern, with the words "Ebon Guild" carved into a black board overhead.
She approached it. It was probably her safest destination. When she stepped inside, the door groaned, and collapsed debris seemed to fill the debris-strewn lobby. The very first thing she noticed was the slumped and scattered skeletons near the tables. They looked like they were caught off guard, and in the center, pressed to the back, a massive crater sat. It looked like the radius of a blast gone wrong.
This place is old, too old. Rain has worked its way into the metal and the wood of the place. Ash lay scattered, barely intact. She saw a broken ledger, scarcely readable, broken beer bottles and tankards. A melted puppet which resembled a voodoo doll.
She shook her head. There were two closed doors inside. She shifted and walked towards them, setting her supplies down. The roof groaned and the door creaked. She stepped over moss and foliage.
A heavy beam barred her way. Shifting, peaking into the backrooms, the first revealed a large bedroom of sorts with two beds spaced away from each other. Massive amounts of clogged dust made her cough. She closed the door. It was probably the safest place. The other room revealed a kitchen, a very long kitchen, with more utilities and tools. It looked more like a chemical lab if anything.
It was the warmest spot, yet wind still slipped through the walls. She moved her stuff inside, then took a chair next to the cadavers in the other room, waiting patiently, trying not to go mad.
Then the roof groaned.
She heard small taps on the ground, wet taps. A drizzle of liquid started splattering. And the wind grew louder and louder, needling at her. She looked through the broken roof and saw the clouds forming, ready to punish her. It was raining, as if she didn't have enough problems. She loved the rain, but not like this. She left the lobby and hurried into the kitchen.
She curled herself into a ball. It was cold, very cold, but she couldn't risk making a fire here, especially not without magical control. She tried not to cry. But the tears came on their own. Her teeth started chattering. She started searching for warmth, and grabbed all of the clothing from her bag and threw them together, folding them and tucking them around herself. The blanket came next and still everything felt wrong.
The rain intensified not long after, and she saw water pooling on the ground through the cracks. A corner in the kitchen started dripping and she shifted slightly. This may have been the wrong spot to choose to huddle down.
She didn't sleep. She just lay there waiting, staring into the darkness. And the wind, the wind seemed to whisper to her. Like speech she couldn't catch. Her brain started working harder and she swore she heard something outside, like small footsteps, or maybe it was the rain. She closed her eyes, pretending she heard nothing.
She tried not to breathe loud. Tried not to be.
And then...
Nothing.
Not a sound. Not a presence. But a tug... somewhere behind her thoughts. Like something passed by. Not a footstep. Not the wind. A faint impression.
She moved. She took her belongings and threw them across the room. A faint impression that something was wrong. She dove away. Light sparked in the room, and thunder seemed to clap.
Lightning struck the building. She saw it with her own two eyes, the visage of something... a person, standing where the lightning had vanished, smiling at her. A woman, a specter.
Her body remained frozen, for no reason at all.
And the living system spoke to her.
[Skill Acquired: Sixth Thread lvl 1] Grants an uncanny sense of wrongness seconds before events unfold.
She gasped, like she was resurfacing from underwater, not realizing she had forgotten to breathe. The shelter kept groaning and the rain grew deeper. Behind her was a big locker. She opened it, snuck inside, and waited for nothing.
But for something.
For whatever gods or devils to speak again.
And then darkness took her.