Eril's Story

Day 7

The start of the day was uneventful. However, things became more interesting as while I was walking, lost in my own thoughts, trying to figure out how many hunters it would take to realistically bring down a mammoth bear, I heard the squeak of wheels, some distance behind me. Looking back, there was a cart coming down the road towards me at a brisk clip, being pulled by an ironically over eager mule. The driver was a tough but jolly looking elderly woman, seemingly deep in conversation with her hard working animal companion.

She was talking intently about one of her neighbors, and didn't even seem to notice me until I hailed, wishing a good morning. Dragging the mule and the cart to a stop with the reins, and with a cheerful grin and greeting, she introduced herself as Agatha, and her mule as Bila. Asking where I was headed. 'Adura', I replied, stating that I was taking the old roads for more of a scenic trip than was provided by the often crowded main roads. 'Since we are both going the same way it wouldn't make sense to make you walk the whole way. How about a lift?' Agatha asked. I obliged, and threw my pack in the back before hoisting myself to sit on a soft woven blanket next to her. At least someone thought of comfort for old bones, I had been on carts with simple wood benches and paid for it.

Agatha's reason for travel was a little less clear, as she launched into a very long winded tale of family possessions, coupled with a long list of relatives names, making my head spin trying to keep it all straight. From what I could tell though, she was settling some family business, and this was the last of some trinkets being brought to an extra cantankerous relative in a remote village. It was a lively conversation all around, with Agatha freely switching between talking to me and the mule, the creature even interjecting its own opinion with a snort or bray from time to time.

There was a lot of time to talk, bumping down the overgrown lane, and I for one welcomed the company. Traveling alone could be isolating and lonely. Seeing my spear prompted a conversation about my past. Feelings of regret welled up as I recounted the things that had happened in my youth. Taking the life of fellow humans and creatures of Earth, no matter how corrupt or evil, left a heavy toll on me. She reached out, consoling me, thanking me for making the sacrifice to keep the land and its inhabitants safe. She, like most, had been affected by the war, losing a son and her husband's entire side of the family.

Rolling lazily along, the conversation turned to lighter topics, and we made good progress, making it to a small chain of mountains as dusk came on. Agatha lit a few lanterns on the cart, illuminating a small circle around the cart, and pushing back the night just a little. I asked her what her plans were for stopping. To which she just chuckled, stating that she had no intention of stopping. The mule flipped its head in agreement, looking back at us - the mule seemed to know the road and had the energy of a champion to boot. I admired her courage to travel alone at night, but insisted that I would be camping out tonight.

Approaching on the right of the trail, along the mountains, the ruined fortress of Miran was just visible through the fog that had descended into the valley, wafting across the pale ground under an eerie crescent moon. During my fighting years, I had heard about the siege that lasted for years, until a traitor from the inside caused the fortress' downfall. What a wretched thing to do. I had even stayed one night while the bastion was in its prime, as I was on the march Northward to fight in my first battle. What a sight it had been from the towering walls, and thousands of troops assembled in glorious battle regalia.

When I made my plans known of wanting to stay near the ruins, Agatha advised against it, offering me instead a cramped spot in the back of the cart to sleep in. I looked back and cringed, then politely declined the offer, to which the cart was halted for me and I was able to disembark. I was given a strong but kind word of warning regarding this area. We chatted for a couple of minutes more as I thanked her for the ride, for which she was more than happy to have given. Waving, I patted the mule and walked off, the sound of whistling and the rattle of the cart slowly being swallowed by the night, enveloping silence descending all around me.

Dark walls of Miran were ominous against the pale sky, and mountains behind framed it all, it looked nothing like anything I remembered from long ago - what was intact was altered or disfigured beyond recognition. Even though I knew the place was abandoned, my courage and nerve were being tested - but I wanted to see what had become of it, as well as if the rumors were true. Had demons really rebuilt the walls, leaving their own marks, and did their spirits still remain.