The Curse-breakers of Avondor || ONC 2022 || ✔

Chapter 2: The Mad Mage

As Audren set out into Anahill to find the woman who'd hopefully accompany him on his newfound quest, he couldn't help but look back at the building he'd considered his home for all his twenty-seven years of living. The castle was small, dwarfed even more by its remarkable location: it sat nestled in the mouth of a mountain cave, the moss-covered rock walls of the mountain itself towering over the structure.

There were, without a doubt, more impressive castles to be found in Avondor, ones he'd even had the honour of visiting. But nothing could compare to the worn white walls of his own, the black wooden window shutters behind which candlelight no longer burned as it had done before. The death of his parents and those they'd brought along had succesfully sucked the life out of even the buildings in the lands he governed.

He imagined the Cursed standing before the city gates, breaking them down, flooding the streets hungrily to sow death and destruction among his people. If that happened, the castle wouldn't keep him and his sister safe. The Cursed would find their way in somehow and soon they'd be wandering his halls, growling and salivating, defiling his home with their presence and the blood of their unfortunate victims. The Flag of the Mountains, golden and emblazoned with the thistles symbolic of his house, would still fly in the wind, but House Menez would no longer rule.

The dead would take his ancestors' place. Audren wouldn't let that happen.

He couldn't let that happen.

He just hoped Terreia Kalister would be willing to help him make sure of that.

The news of the return of his scout, one of the five he'd sent out into the Cursed's territory, had taken Anahill by storm. As he sped towards the Kalisters' home, he found himself repeatedly stopped by people passing him by: Men, women, children, all united in their worry, their fear, the uncertainty surrounding their situation. They wished to know what would happen. They wanted to know what Audren would do to protect their lives.

I'll do my utmost best for you, he told them each patiently, hiding his own hurry and the panic fluttering through his mind. I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe. We won't go down without a fight. I promise.

But he didn't dare claim it would all be okay, didn't dare tell the helpless families looking to him for guidance they would be fine. He refused to make promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

It was almost a relief when he reached Stephon Kalister's abode; once inside, nobody would be able to stop him to ask about his plans. He knocked on the door, waited. Nobody answered. Audren knocked again, patience slowly running out. He studied the ivy crawling up the house's stone walls, counted leaves to keep his mind off the threats he faced. He had to get his thoughts under control.

"My lord?"

Stephon Kalister, Anahill's most talented surgeon, cracked the door of his house open. The man was in his late fifties, dark hair streaked with grey, but he looked at Audren inquisitively from behind his glasses. There was an intelligent light in his eyes that even the end of the world he knew couldn't dim.

"Master Kalister," Audren began quickly, "forgive me for showing up unannounced so suddenly under such dire circumstances. As you might know, we're pressed for time. The Cursed are coming and it's of grave importance that I speak to your daughter. Is Terreia here?"

Kalister frowned. Audren saw him shuffling on his feet almost uncomfortably.

"She is," the surgeon confirmed. "What do you want from Terry, my lord?"

"I know you're very proud of her, Master Kalister," Audren told him. "You never tire of telling all your patients about your daughter, top student at the Chekshaw Institute for the Magical Arts. Or at least, you told me all about it when you treated my shoulder injury last year. I'm developing a plan to save us all from the Cursed as we speak, but if I want it to succeed, I could use help from someone as talented as Terry. The survival of the Mountainfolk depends on it."