Chapter 33 – Words of Caution (2)

The frigid mountain breeze blew through the gaps in the wall and the windows, whistling as it sneaked in. The last rays of sunlight had vanished not too long ago, and the world slowly prepared to slumber.

Midhir absentmindedly stared at his notes. He didn’t really need to look at them – not for tomorrow’s exam, at least.

Bareon, the City of Roses. The first capital of the Eldorian Empire, once fallen to the horrors of the Veil. Not many stories were told about those times. In fact, there were very few retellings of the events that happened before, during, and shortly after the Bareon Disaster.

He pursed his lips. It was so for many of the big events in Eldorian history. The fall of Olisar and the following war was also rarely mentioned in more than surface detail. Perhaps it was because people feared speaking of such events would bring the attention and wrath of the Old Gods.

His gaze lingered on a line he had noted down.

Their eyes were shining blue, I could see them beg for mercy, to be freed of their bodies that had now become a prison for their mind. A fate worse than death – to be trapped, watching their bodies become mindless vessels for death and destruction. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

The Fall of the Rose Capital served as a memoir, as well as a history book. Lord Andor Orlein hadn’t just written the events that happened during and after the disaster, but also vivid descriptions of his own memories and thoughts.

His gaze focused on the first sentence. Blue eyes, shining. The same as the wolves, and Lillia. But Lillia didn’t remember anything. It was as if she’d woken up from a deep slumber. It didn’t add up, and that worried him.

He turned his gaze to the other piece of paper he had written. A letter, ready to be put in an envelope.

“Sorry, Alistair,” he muttered quietly. If danger reared its ugly head, he wouldn’t hesitate this time. But he still wanted to protect this life he was living until that time came. He touched his earring, willing a ring into existence.

The golden ring was old, and a bit too large for his finger, though that could be easily fixed if needed. A sigil decorated the ring – a flaming bird, its wings outstretched.

Putting his letter in the envelope, he took the red candle on his desk, and tipped it over slightly, letting the melted wax drip onto the letter. Pressing the sigil against it, he waited a moment before lifting his hand, and making sure the envelope was properly sealed.

Throwing his cloak over his shoulders, he left his room, and headed to the aviary with hasty steps.

Sunlight shone through the windows of the classroom, though it barely penetrated the gloomy air within. Leaning on his back, Midhir sighed inwardly.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The gloom and doom was solely gathered around Willow, who was looking at her paper with a mix of disgust and desperation. He didn’t blame her, they all expected a series of questions that tested their knowledge.

Explain in detail what would happen if the Bareon Disaster happened in An’Larion today.

Even he had trouble explaining that. An’Larion was much larger than Bareon was at the time, consisting of thirteen districts, one of which had already fallen once before. Because of the maze-like catacombs stretching underneath the city, not all tears in the Veil in the thirteenth district had been mended yet – it was an ongoing effort by the Empress and her Enforcers.

If something similar to the Bareon Disaster happened now… well, according to the not-so-public estimations of the Imperial Court, over three quarters of the city’s population would fall to the Mist.

It wasn’t a pleasant scenario to think about, but he understood why Instructor Theodore forced them to. The Bareon Disaster wasn’t a one-off incident. What happened in Olisar, and the events that caused the thirteenth district to be lost were similar. Since it had happened three times already, there was no reason for it not to happen again.

Some time passed before Willow finally handed her paper in. Her pale expression said everything that needed to be said.

“Thank you, you’re all excused. Go get some rest,” the Instructor’s cheerful tone only caused to Willow to look even more upset.

Arwen quickly dragged the other girl out of the classroom, offering to go to the cafeteria for some sweets. As they left, Alistair also packed his things, glanced at Midhir, then slowly walked out.

“Is something the matter?” Instructor Theodore absentmindedly asked while stashing the exam papers into his holding gem. “I didn’t expect you to have trouble with this, since you hail from the capital.”

Midhir shook his head. “No, it wasn’t troublesome. I wanted to ask something else,” he stood up, pulling The Fall of the Rose Capital out of his backpack. He turned the pages until he found the one he marked with a piece of paper. “Lord Andor Orlein mentions shining blue eyes in those he called The Fallen. Claiming they were trapped in their own bodies, aware of the monstrous acts they performed, but unable to prevent them.”

Instructor Theodore folded his arms. “Indeed, such records exist for the events at Olisar as well.”

Midhir scowled. “Something similar, but not entirely the same happened in Lohssa. A young girl was…” he hesitated. “Possessed, I suppose. But when she came to, she had no memories of what had happened, at all.”

Instructor Theodore pursed his lips. “I see. That is interesting.”

Midhir hesitated. “We’ll be going to Bareon for out next field exercises.”

The instructor’s eyes widened. “Oh? Interesting choice by Soraya,” he fiddled with the sleeve of his uniform. “A bold one too, considering Lohssa proved to be quite dangerous.”

“Yes,” Midhir breathed a sigh. “I know that Bareon is suffering from incidents related to the Veil still. I don’t want a repeat of Lohssa. I know Lord Andor’s retelling of the Bareon Disaster isn’t fully accurate. It details what he saw, and what he thinks happened, but there isn’t much mention of how or why.”

Instructor Theodore nodded. “I’m afraid you won’t find that anywhere-“ he paused, “well, unless…” he paced the classroom, clearly conflicted. “There used to be a tome – or a series of tomes that told events that happened. A few of my colleagues and I came across part of one of those tomes. It was just a bundle of torn and damaged pages, and it took us months to decipher what it said.”

Midhir scowled. “What did it say?”

“We weren’t able to find the rest of the tome, nor did we come across something similar ever again. But it told something that was missing from Lord Andor’s memoir – that spirits roamed the lands and would slowly cause Eldoria to change.” He gestured out the window. “You’ve seen the overgrowth.”

“It also claimed that the Bareon disaster was the first of many.” His gaze met with Midhir’s. “But that tome was a millennium old at least.”