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throne of the dark king
chapter six

Written by Ted Spector

“We need to stay on task,” Bruno finally murmured. He glanced around at the other three members of the group; a hum of agreement from Adair, a nod from Florian.

“It feels like a trap, somehow,” said Cassian.

“Maybe another challenge,” Adair added on, Florian grimacing as they slowly but surely began their way down the path once again. It didn’t take long for the group to reach the edges of the village, wandering slowly, cautious and purposeful. The closer they got to the center of town, the more disturbing things became. Corpses lie scattered, some almost in purposefully circular formations.

They branched out a little further as they inspected the carnage. Bodies, already decomposing, painted a picture of pure brutality. Heads ripped off, holes in chests, limbs separated from their rightful owners. The less brutalized corpses were paler than the rest, like they’d decomposed quicker, blood staining their chins, teeth rotten and irises of their eyes white.

Bruno inspected scrolls hung outside homes and taverns, pinned to lamp posts.

“Harvest festival,” he spoke out loud, reading the posters with a curious eye until Cassian wandered over and snatched one from in front of him.

“What about it?” he asked with a tilt of his head. Bruno sighed and pointed at the intended date for the event.

“This was the intended date of the harvest festival's beginning,” he informed, looking expectantly at the rogue who gave him a blank stare in return. “It’s the day the village fell quiet, presumably when the plague was circulating.”

“Ah,” Cassian said, eyes widening in a dawning realization.

“Yes, ah,” Bruno exhaled sharply and shook his head.

“Over here,” the jester beckoned with a wave of their hand, hat jingling. The party followed to the centre of town.

Where presumably a fountain had previously been, there was a large expanse of stone with symbols scratched into it. Symbols and letters in unrecognizable languages sat inside a circle, unlit candles facing all four directions on the edges. They all found interest in different aspects of the circle. Bruno trailed his fingers along the markings, the language he attempted to recall and translate. Cassian and Adair noticed the blood, faint but there, staining the indents of the stone. Florian’s eyes were zeroed in on the crude drawing in the centre, a figure tall and spindly. They grimaced, recalling where they’d seen it before and as their gaze lifted, they found it.

A figure, tall and imposing, loomed over the group of four - a man with no face and vine-like appendages snaking out from behind its back. The group stumbled back, a symphony of panicked shouts and curses. They parted as one of the appendages slammed between them, hard enough to crack the stone beneath their feet. Adair stumbled back, almost falling before Cassian caught him and hoisted him to his feet with an arm around his waist.

“What the hell do we do?” Cassian shouted.

“We can take the back gates, I think I know where they are!” Bruno said, backing up. He broke out into a sprint. The other three had no time to hesitate, weaving through alleyways and houses with open doors in order to evade the creature following them. Bruno led them with his quick thinking. Adair dragged Cassian and Florian by their hands. They passed through the exit gates as a bell chimed in the distance.

They peered back at the town. They were no longer being tailed. The group took a moment to stand amongst the trees poised outside of the village and catch their breath.

“We can’t just leave.” Cassian breathed out somewhat dejectedly. As much as they wanted to flee in terror from whatever thing was behind them and pretend they’d never reached the village, the group knew they must complete the mission.

“We should head towards the sound of the bell.” Bruno suggested, eyes scanning the area as he envisioned the mental map he’d made of the village's layout, the very thing that helped them escape unscathed just moments ago. “It sounded like it came from the tower beyond the village."

The others didn’t care to argue, nodding their heads as they began taking slow steps down the trail, passing a few scattered houses beyond the village walls. One of the first houses they passed, worn down and empty looking, proved it may be anything but empty as shuffling came from within. Adair paused by the door, listening in closely with his keen senses and nodding his head towards the door as a silent suggestion.

Art by M4ngey