Chapter 26
Ghost Town
"Necromancy is the execution of magic that allows its wielder to commune with the dead, seeking glimpses of the future, uncovering hidden truths, and at times even bringing the dead back to life.
Such power demands a blood price: A life—for a life.
Life magic and the death-born arts of necromancy are forbidden by Terran law.
Those who dare to practice them are condemned to death. "
This law was sanctioned and approved by the Queen of Shadows and Death.
The following Korovian text has been transcribed by Nebula Earthglow of the Earthglow Witch Coven.
My bones felt brittle from the rain-soaked material that clung to my skin, not even my cloak could withstand the force of the storm. Thunder cracked for what seemed like the fifth time in a row, making the horses nearly steer off course and go into a frenzy.
By Nocturna's grace, we managed not to lose our way in the harsh weather.
The men followed as best they could, and all seemed accounted for.
I could hardly believe I had lead these Apollons to safety, and yet I did.
The feeling of accomplishment did not last long as I resisted the urge to stop my teeth from chattering.
The rain seemed to turn into a calmer heavy shower than what it had been.
I then spotted it from afar. It looked like distant fireflies— but it was light.
Light illuminating from houses below. We had made it to the Litara villages.
My body nearly slumped against my horse in relief.
"Ensure all my men have a roof over their heads. Give the innkeepers as much gold as they charge," the prince spoke to Akiel and Hulin, placing a large pouch into each of their hands.
"We're splitting up?" I asked and watched the men go their separate ways, Red following Hulin and Akiel.
"They are. As for us, we stay together," the prince replied and jumped off his horse. Cracking his neck, no doubt to shake off the ache of the long ride.
"Red," I called out.
"I know, I know. Be safe. Don't worry, Mor." He waved a hand at me and caught up with Akiel.
I tried not to look too confused as I jumped off my own horse.
Inanov caught my questioning eyes and answered, "Innkeepers won't have enough room to keep us all, and we do not want to draw too much attention from the village before we reach the lord's manor.
" The prince handed me a heap of material, which I took carefully into my arms and examined.
A brown cloak. I looked up to see both Inanov and the prince wearing matching cloaks like the one I held, concealing their bright signature capes and Apollon markings.
I put my own on and hoped that to the villagers, we just looked like travellers making their way through the lands.
This particular plan, after nearly a half hour of walking and guiding our horses by the rain, seemed futile.
Even with the rain, the village looked like a ghost town.
Things seemed different than the last time I visited with the arena.
Shutters were nailed shut. No sound coming from any of the huts we had passed, or the cobblestone path that lay ahead.
Lightning had struck again, but this time I was ready for it.
I rubbed the neck of my stallion to calm him down while making our way to a decent looking inn.
Above two large doors, chipped letters spelled out: The Siren's Wail
"I'll lead the horses to a stable," Inanov gruffly stated and then looked pointedly at me. As if to say, "Eyes on the prince." I scrunched my eyebrows in annoyance and rolled my eyes, already aware of the obvious.
"Be quick about it," the prince answered without looking at him and pushed open the inn door while I followed behind.
The inn was dull, and if the village had seemed like a ghost town, this was even worse.
No one sat by the dimly lit hearth drinking ale as they should; there was no chatter, no clinking of cutlery.
"I don't think anyone's—" I was cut off by the rough voice of a woman.
"No stragglers are allowed. We don't do charity." A plump woman held a broom from the staircase and spat out the words with disgust.
"No stragglers her mam, only travellers.
My wife and I. My brother is puttin' the horses in your stables as we speak.
" My mouth almost dropped to the floor as I heard the change in the prince's accent and of the fact that he addressed me as his damned wife.
No longer Apollon royalty, he spoke with the accent of southern farmers.
The woman just stared at us, eyeing us suspiciously.
As if to make a point, Adrion took out five gold Apollon coins.
The woman's eyes widened at this and made her way down to us.
She grabbed the coins and bit down into each one.
A much more approachable smile graced her face.
"We don't get much folks around here to stay for the night I'll tell you that. Excuse my hostility earlier on." The woman guided us to a table near the fire hearth and took a damp cloth to wipe at the thick layer of dust that seemed to sit on all the tables.
"Your generosity is appreciated, mam," the prince still spoke in that accent, his eyes cast down.
"You can call me Agatha. I'll have a bean rooster stew heated up for your family.
" She laid three jugs of ale onto the table and left.
I pulled the hood of my brown cloak down as there was no one here who would recognize me.
My hair was dyed and no one would be able to tell that I was the girl from an arena group.
"Your wife?" I whispered harshly at the prince.
"You would be of more importance if you were.
Therefore, I used the title. Have an issue with that.
.. wife?" He emphasised the last word. My cheeks heated and I thanked Nocturna that the light in the inn was too dimmed to have it noticed.
My annoyance and anger slowly simmering.
The prince's eyes shone beneath the hood of his cloak, his eyes scanning my face.
His sharp eyesight taking me in. The inn door opened suddenly, I gripped my fire blade and sighed in relief when I saw Inanov dripping rainwater onto the wooden floor as he made his way to us.
Pushing the ale set in front of him away from himself. "Is the village always like this?" he asked looking at me.
I shook my head. "No," I whispered while looking around. My heart was beating faster than usual. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. "Something isn't right here," I answered. The prince and Inanov looked to each other and then looked back at me.
"Ah, I suppose this be your brother, huh?" Agatha now laid a watery looking soup in wooden bowls in front of us.
"Thank you for taking us in mam," Inanov's fake accent matched Adrion's. If Agatha was not here, I'd have laughed.
"Pleasure is mine. Glad you found the stables. I'll have my husband feed your horses." She nodded, giving each of us chipped wooden spoons.
"Why is the village so quiet?" I asked her curiously.
Agatha, as if for the first time, looked to me instead of the men. Her eyes widened and then narrowed. "She doesn't share the same accent as you two." I bit the inside of my cheek and Inanov was throwing daggers in my direction with his eyes.
"No, mam, married her out of the country. A beauty she was compared to the maidens in my village. Like the sky on a still summer night," the prince answered with charm that had her smiling while my cheeks burned hot.
Agatha’s gaze settled on me. "Keep your lady safe. The pretty ones seem to die the quickest around here of late."
"What do you mean?" I questioned and gripped the blade at my thigh.
"Quite a mouth on this one, huh?" She looked at me then looked around her, seemingly checking her surroundings before answering.
"A plague has swept the town. I think it may be a curse. No plague wipes out a certain group of people. None I say."
"What's happening to the people?" I lean closer, trying to understand the woman.
"The girls. All the young pretty girls. Daughters, sisters, young wives. They’re all falling ill, nearly dying I say," she harshly whispers, as if someone would hear.
"What are they falling sick from? How many have died?" Inanov was the one to ask next. The prince looked tense, seemingly not wanting to engage in conversation at all, but also intrigued by what the woman was saying.
"Some of them have died. But those who have not died... they end up elsewhere." Agatha fidgeted with the hem of her apron, seemingly uncomfortable.
"No one knows why it happens or when it began. Families with young daughters, sisters or even wives are keeping them indoors, hidden away. We still do not understand what is infecting them," she spoke softly and then looked to the kitchen.
"I'll make sure there are clean sheets in your room, remember—keep your wife safe ey." She looked intently at the prince and then left. A gnawing feeling irked my thoughts.
"This village sounds mental." Inanov stroked his jaw and squeezed the bridge of his nose. The prince was silent.
"You don't truly have to worry about keeping 'your dear wife' safe, you know," I joked.
He remained still. Then woke up, the chair groaned as it slid back.
"We have an early start tomorrow; I want to be out of this god's forsaken inn by first light," he growled in annoyance and went up the stairs. His stew was untouched and so was mine.
Inanov lightly sipped on his, scrunching his nose at the taste and then downing the rest. "Eat.
It might taste a bit on the rough side but when it comes to being a guard, food is important.
No matter the kind or taste. As long as it's edible," Inanov spoke and put a spoon filled with watery beans into his mouth.