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

Chapter 3: What You Leave Behind

The plan Audren had made was a simple one. Ridiculously simple, even. It all hinged on the goodwill of the gods. That, and his and Terry's ability to make it to their destination in one piece.

But that was a detail.

As children, Audren and his sister had learned about diplomacy, the various counties, duchies and autonomous cities and regions in Avondor. In doing so, they'd also learned about the land's myriad of noble houses; they'd needed to grow familiar with them and use the knowledge to observe proper etiqutte and maintain good relations with other members of the aristocracy. There were certain families that had piqued Audren's interest. One of those was the Acestor family.

House Acestor, if the history Audren had been taught back in the day hadn't yet been rendered obsolete, was one of the oldest noble families in Avondor, having ruled over what was now known as Santonshire for centuries. Their reign had been long and moderately prosperous. Not that Audren cared much about the details of that reign; it was the family's origin that fascinated him.

According to widely-circulating tales of yore, House Acestor had been formed when a noblewoman from the Far South had arrived in Avondor, not unlike Audren's own mother. The woman had been charming, warm and radiant, and had quickly found herself the object of the affections of Solmar, God of the Sun, revered in a great many Avondorian regions. House Acestor was the House of the Sun. Santon was a corrupted name; the city, or so the scholars said, had been founded as Suntown.

Countess Limnaia of House Acestor was a descendant of the Sun God. It seemed only fitting, then, to ask that same god about her whereabouts. If the countess was alive and in trouble, she could probably use Audren and Terry's help. Surely Solmar would want to protect his descendant, his legacy, and would aid the pair in their search.

Audren had told Terry and her father all of this with hands folded around a cup of goat milk. He'd watched Terry intently, trying to decipher the thoughts in her head. When he'd finished mapping out his ideas for the Kalisters, he'd waited for the mage's verdict, praying to the Mountain Goddess she'd approve of his plan.

"Your plan stands or falls by whether or not certain rumours are true," Terry had concluded. "About the curse's origin, the runaway countess... And this plan you've made is simple, incredibly so. On the other hand, that might benefit us. Elaborate plans come with a higher probability of failure."

"I understand we'd be taking risks," Audren had replied. "Our success or failure hinges on many different factors. Whether Solmar will help, whether the countess is alive and whether or not her advisor is the one who cursed the land. But we have to try something more than just fortifying the city and lasting as long as we can. Breaking the curse is the only way to save ourselves and these leads are the best we have."

Terry had been silent for a long time, pondering. Audren had held his breath.

"Fine," was Terry's final judgment. "The plan isn't going to get any better than that. If it works, it works, and if it doesn't, at least the trip will be a short one. If we collaborate, we should probably be able to survive and make it back here in one piece. I'll join you."

Audren had rejoiced after that and hoped to the gods she was right.

By the time their deal had been settled, the afternoon had progressed into evening; neither Audren nor Terry thought it a good idea to leave under the cover of darkness, with the enemy they didn't know well ruling the lands beneath the stars. Nothing in Ambassador Valskis' reports had mentioned anything about the Cursed's sight and for all they knew, the monsters possessed a cat-like night vision. They wouldn't take their chances; undead and disgusting or not, Audren preferred being able to see what he was up against.