Bacorium Legacy (83 page)

“Marie, I'm back,” she called out as she entered.

There was no answer.

“Marie?”

Emila searched the room for a bit, even checking inside the bathroom, and Marie was nowhere to be found.

“Perhaps she went out,” Emila muttered.

And then she saw it. At the bedside, where Marie had slept since their arrival in T'Saw, there rested three bottles of dreamshade - a sleeping drink made from an herb that had been among the stock of spices they sold. All three bottles were emptied, and in front of them, there was a handwritten note.

Immediately, Emila knew what had happened.

“Oh no...” she said. “No no no, this can't be...”

Emila ran to the bed and took the note.

I'm sorry to do this to you, but I can't take it any longer. I have spent so many years with Harold by my side, I'm just not able to live without him. Please, Emila, be strong without us. Sell the lute, take the money, and go be happy.

Marie's name was signed at the bottom.

“No...”

Emila pulled back the sheets of the bed, and sure enough, Marie's dress lay beneath, its wearer vanished.

<> <> <>

“Cheer up, kid,” Trent said to her. “It was what she wanted. I know it's hard to lose them both so quickly, but they wouldn't want you to be miserable forever, right?”

Emila said nothing, staring at the counter in front of her. It had been nearly a month already since losing Marie, but it felt like it had just happened yesterday. The wounds remained fresh, and refused to close. Now it was not only her family that tormented her thoughts, but Harold and Marie as well.

“What are you going to do now?” Trent asked her.

“The money from the spices will run out soon,” Emila said quietly. “And I can't sell that lute - I just can't bring myself to do it. So I guess when I run out of gold, I have to leave the inn...”

“And after that?”

She shrugged.

Trent stared at her for a while, then sighed, and poured up a glass of ale. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “On me.”

She said nothing, simply taking a long drink from the glass, and then setting it back down.

“I'm not going to let you just go out on your own, with no money,” he said. “I need to give out all the rooms to customers, but the attic has space. It's a bit cramped, but it's clean and there's a window. In exchange for letting you stay there, you can do work during the day. Cleaning, dishes, and serving food and drinks to the customers. I already have two girls who do that stuff, but I can take another if your payment is just staying here. And you still get tips from customers. It's easy work, so what do you say?”

Emila was silent for a while, then she took another drink, and said, “Okay.”

<> <> <>

Emila lost track of time. She worked at the inn, doing whatever Trent asked her to, and when she was done, she went upstairs to the attic and slept. The small money she pocketed from tips went into a sack beside her bedroll, and remained untouched. The days passed, and turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months. Like a puppet, she went through these motions again and again, too apathetic to muster up the will to do anything else.

All Emila knew of the outside world was the discussion she heard from those staying at the inn. Usually it was just things she cared nothing for, like gossip about the prince and princess of Sono. But occasionally, she heard mention of her half-brother, and the army he was rumoured to be building on the other side of the mountains. They said he intended to rebuild the destroyed kingdom of Acaria, and take revenge against Sono for the death of his father.

At first, she dismissed these stories, though it did match her memories of him. But over time, she heard the stories again and again, along with others. It became hard to deny the truth of it, and the possibility that a war with Acaria might truly come to be.

She started to have nightmares. She saw blood on her hands, bodies in the streets. She saw people being whipped, screaming in pain and begging for death. She saw the women being thrown down and assaulted. She saw an army of faceless soldiers in black, marching through the burning streets of T'Saw, her brother leading them. She would wake up, covered in sweat and holding back a scream.

And then, Emila heard another tale. Acarian soldiers, spotted in various towns across the Alliance. They seemed to be searching for something - or someone.

It had to be her. Who else could it have been? Illegitimate or not, Emila was still a threat to Zinoro's rule, wasn't she? He wanted to find her, and have her killed, so he could proceed with his plans unhindered.

She had to find some place where he would not find her - where nobody could find her. Somewhere where no Acarian spies could report her to Zinoro for a reward. A few people in the inn had mentioned a town at the edge of Saeticia whose inhabitants had vanished seemingly overnight. She could try that.

Surely, nobody could find her there.

Chapter XXVII

Prophecy

The journey across the Grey Wasteland had an effect on them all. They found little to talk about during the long trek across the colourless empty land. Even Brand was not his usual self, though he still made the occasional attempt to lighten the mood. Wiosna was the worst of them, though. She would follow several lengths behind them, saying nothing unless they spoke directly to her. Her mood would noticeably worsen whenever Luca spoke of Emila, which bothered him. He knew what it was that hurt her, but he could not stop himself from bringing up Emila. They needed to move quickly to Acarienthia, and Emila was a constant worry in Luca's mind, each moment he thought of her urging him on.

What bothered them the most was not the emptiness of Acaria, but the knowledge of what they were headed towards. Zinoro was in Acaria, and they knew that they had little chance of defeating him. They were likely marching to their deaths, and Luca wished so much that he could send Brand and Wiosna away. But they were determined, and refused each time he even came close to suggesting it.

Gordon, their steadfast guide, showed them the way through the rough hills and where to find shelter at night when the monsters emerged. As they grew closer to Acaria, Gordon seemed to accept that it was the end, at least for him. He would likely have to expose his treachery to Zinoro's very face, and he would also likely be killed for it. At nights, he sat by himself, and he stared contemplatively into their campfire or the stars.

One day, as they travelled through some hill, they came across a cavern with large carts set by the entrance, filled with rocks.

“A mine,” Wiosna said.

“Indeed,” Gordon replied. “Zinoro has a few of these set up. He may be able to create his soldiers from thin air, but he still needs the steel to arm them. From the looks of it, it appears to be abandoned.”

“Why?” Brand asked.

“Because he no longer needs it. He has all the weapons and armour he needs. His army is ready.”

With that, they moved on. The days seemed to blur together, but it seemed to Luca that it took them a week to reach Acarienthia. They got their first sight of the Acarian capital after climbing a plateau and  seeing it over the edge of the cliff.

Gordon's jaw fell when he saw the city, and he ran past them to the very edge of the cliff to get a better look.

The city was large and impressive, consisting of many buildings surrounded by a large wall, like most great Bacorian cities. The palace stood on a hill in the centre of city. Its emptiness, however, could be seen even from the great distance away that Luca was. The thousands who had once lived in the city were gone, having died out two decades ago in the plague that drove Manorith to invade Sono.

But the most noteworthy thing was the massive army - comprised of what must have been tens of thousands of soldiers - standing in perfect formation in the fields outside the city walls. On the ground at which they stood was a massive ornate circle stretching out for what must have been a kilometre - it was similar to, but different, from the one they had seen in the dried up lake.

“By the Old Ones...” Gordon muttered. “There are so many...”

“You told me yourself how he created that army,” Luca said, staring at the legion before them in disdain. “He kills innocent people, and brings them back as revenants. And even the revenants that fall can be brought back. His army grows with each battle, and he never loses a single man.”

“Even so, he shouldn't have this many.” Gordon turned away from it. “He couldn't have this many...”

Indeed, the size of Zinoro's army dwarfed that of the forces of Sono and Saeticia combined. The number he had sent to fight them in that valley hadn't been near that number. Had he sent the full number out that day...

“How can we get inside?” Brand asked. “The army blocks the front gate.”

Gordon looked back at the city, considering. After glancing at Luca, he said, “I have a idea. Let's go.”

Gordon then led them down through a narrow trail, and after some time they made their way down into the level plains. They were far enough away from the army that there was no chance of them being seen, and Luca doubted if the revenants would even take notice of them either way, but they still stayed under cover whenever possible. They made their way towards the city walls, far from the gate.

Gordon turned to them when they reached the wall. “Luca, can you see the top of the wall?”

He looked up. “I can.”

Gordon then reached within his bags and produced a coiled rope, which he handed to Luca. “I think you know what to do.”

Taking the rope from Gordon, Luca focused his attention on the top of the wall. He warped, and reappeared right where he anticipated. His feet found themselves standing on the narrow walkway at the top of the fifty or so metre wall. Immediately, he crouched down, and looked around to see if anyone had noticed his appearance.

It would seem that there were no guards manning the wall. Satisfied that he was unseen, Luca uncoiled the rope and tossed it down through a gap in the battlements. He held the rope tight, and used his feet to push against the stone wall, as the weight of three people threatened to pull him over the edge.

Finally, Wiosna reached the top, and he helped pull her up. She gave him an uncomfortable look as he did so, and quickly stepped away from him once she was up on the wall. Brand followed a minute or so later, and then Gordon. After that, Luca pulled the rope back up and rolled it back up.

“There's a stairway over here, I believe,” Gordon said, starting off. “It will take us down into the city. From there, we can get to the palace.”

“Do you know a secret way into the palace?” Brand asked.

“We won't need one. We can get in with the same trick.”

They emerged to the streets, which were as grey and empty as the previous city.

“Does nobody live here at all?” Luca asked Gordon.

“A few,” Gordon said. “Most stay in the palace, however. I would say there's fewer than a hundred actual living people in the city. It's mostly just those soulless things. Which is a damn shame. When I was a little boy, this city was incredible. It was alive and beautiful and filled with good people. And look at it now.”

Gordon's eyes were filled with sorrow, as he thought of better days. But he sighed, and set aside those thoughts for the moment. “Follow me.”

They encountered no one on their way through the streets. The only sound was that of the wind, which howled and whipped around them now and then. The once-paved streets were filled with cracks and potholes. Windows in buildings were smashed in, or boarded up. From time to time, they would pass houses with every window and door boarded up, and skulls painted over them.

“Scars from the plague,” Gordon muttered, staring at one such house. “When Manorith took his army and marched to Sono, he left this behind. It has only gotten worse over the years. Zinoro has had his eye on Sono so long, he has failed to notice just what a dead waste his kingdom has become.”

“I hate this place,” Brand muttered. Luca gave a start at that. It was so rare to hear such words from Brand, who usually saw the positive side in everything.

The palace stood atop a hill in the centre of town, a fortress of steel that had turned brown with rust and green with ivy over the two decades of ruin. At the front of the palace, they saw two men in the black armour of Acaria, standing guard over the entrance, spears in hand. They ducked into an alley, and peered out from around the corner. The two guards had not seen them.

“They're not revenants,” said Gordon. “They are of the small number of human followers Zinoro still has.”

He was right, Luca noted. The two guards stood with a slouch, and would turn their heads and speak to one another, though Luca was much too far away to make out the words.

“Is the plan that I need to warp to them and catch them off guard?” Luca asked.

“There will be others just inside,” Gordon said, shaking his head. “The noise would get their attention, and an alarm would be raised. We cannot lose the element of surprise. No, we'll circle around back and find a different entrance.”

They proceeded to do just that, crossing through back alleys until the front of the palace and its two guards disappeared from view. Gordon took them to the back of the palace, where there had once been a large garden. All that remained was dirt and an empty fountain. They crossed through the dead garden until they reached the very edge of the palace's rear wall.

Gordon scanned the palace walls and pointed to a balcony three stories from the ground. “Luca, there's an open door there.”

“I see it,” Luca said. He gathered his mana and warped to the balcony. As Gordon had said, the door was open, which lead to a bedroom.

“Throw down the rope!” Gordon called to him from below.

Luca went to the edge of the balcony and peered down. Gordon, Wiosna, and Brand were waiting expectantly for him to toss them the rope. After a moment of consideration, he tossed it down.

The entire rope fell into a pile at Gordon's feet.

“Luca, what are you doing?!” he demanded.