| The fireplace was now a crumbling pile of debris around a cold black hole. Turning, he made his way upstairs, fighting the thick cobwebs that blocked his path. Suddenly, the stairs shifted under his weight, causing him to lunge out and grab the railing. Feeling them give way, he leapt for the landing above him, grabbing it just in time as the stairs collapsed in a thunder of decaying wood and dust with a loud crash. Pulling himself up, he gazed back down at the pile of debris below and straightened his tunic. He had not realized the wood would be so far gone. Slowly, he made his way over to the door of what had been Walter and Mary�s bed chambers, he reached out toward the latch and turned it. The door opened with a shrieking hellish screech. Rays from the late afternoon sun streamed in through the window, producing shafts of light. Dried mud lay in thick hard pools around the room. An enormous tree limb lay in the spot where the bed would have been, it�s branches jutting up through the roof of the once-elegant home. Stytentos, feeling overwhelmed by his memories, and the emotional tie to them, closed the door and stepped back out into the hallway. He should never have come here. It was too much. He missed his friends terribly. Walter had been like a brother to him. Mary had been a constant source of longing , desire, passion, love and pain. However, though she had been an extremely beautiful woman, she had also been a wonderful person, and an even better friend. Sadness washed over him, threatening to drown him in a sea of despair. No! He leapt from the second floor landing , then raced out the front door toward the empty field where Tranak had once stood. He stopped as he entered the area, the statue that had been granted to them in gratitude by the village was still there, cracked and broken. Most of it was worn away by time and the elements, but it was evident it had been broken before that. In the attack. The statues� heads were gone, shattered to small, unrecognizable chunks. It was all that remained. And eventually it too would be gone. He would have nothing left of anyone. Of his life. For the first time since entering the Black Forest, he lost control, allowing his anguish and pain to come to the surface. He fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably in the middle of the empty field. Twilight had descended as Stytentos continued trudging onward. His feet were sore and tired. He longed for a hot meal and sleep. But all he had found were empty patches of land where villages had once thrived. Had every town in Dacia been wiped out by the madness of the �Burnings�? As he made his way down the overgrown, unused road that lead away from Volknor Manor and the empty field where Tranak once stood, he came around a bend that exited the large area of woods. Spotting a faint glow in the distance, he stopped, trying to determine if they were an illusion due to exhaustion, or lights from a village. He started walking again, this time more quickly. He made it to the small town in a few moments, the light in it�s windows a welcome sight. To his surprise and discomfort, he found the village to be deathly silent. An alarm went off in his mind. Immediately, he knew something was wrong. Walter would have agreed with that assumption.. It wasn�t the quiet that was bothering him. Most villages settled down after a long day of activity. It was the lack of conversation that he should have heard inside the structures that was nagging him. No voices. No one was talking. Evil was afoot here. He could feel it. Wait, he knew this place. This village. It was Bredham. It had changed quite a bit since he was last here, but it sure smelled the same. He entered cautiously, instantly alert for any trouble. Suddenly, a woman�s scream pierced the stillness of the night air. Using his sensitive hearing, he easily pin-pointed the location in mere seconds, but did not hurry. After all that had been done to his people, he wasn�t very eager to help anyone who could turn on him and put him to death. This generation would not remember him or the old ways, when he used to come into town and would be greeted by cheers, waves, and friendly faces. Another scream broke through his reverie. Shoving the doubtful thoughts aside, he remembered his promise to Mary and quickly picked up his pace. |
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