World Fire

Withering of Helmlock

The trio of Pegasuses touched down at the entrance of the town of Helmlock, a small and homely woodland village with homes constructed of brick and wood. There was a small chapel on the east side of the village, several houses scattered about, a blacksmith, a tailor, a few shops for food and an inn.

‘Follow me.’ Arla jumped off the Pegasus and Trys and Locke followed suit. Arla led them down the cobble path, waving to the people that they passed, and entered the inn.

The inn was sizeable, with a fire burning in the hearth despite the general warmth in the air. A few gamblers and day drinkers huddled around tables, giving the trio an odd glance or two as they passed. Arla reached the innkeeper behind the counter, who greeted them with a nod, saw the badge of the Amber Army, and gave a light gasp.

‘Ahh, is the Amber Army all they could bring?’ the innkeeper asked, a wave of uncertainty sweeping over his face.

‘Do you want the bandits dealt with or not?’ Arla stared down at him.

‘We all do, but to trust this with a, uh, Redskin such as yourself, of the Amber Army no less.’

‘It seems like the bandits are not a problem, then, if something so trivial is reason enough for you to not to care about them.’ Arla pulled out a slip of paper from her breast pocket and set it down on the counter, pulling out a pen with it. ‘I’ll send this to Justisar to let them know to remove your request, because clearly it is not much of an issue.’ She started filling out the paper, when the innkeeper raised a hand.

‘Stop, stop. Fine, we’ll trust you,’ he said, then muttered, ‘oh, I dread for the fate of this village,’ under his breath. ‘My name is Jackson, innkeeper and de facto leader of this village.’

‘I am Arla. The boy is Locke, and the girl is Trys. Explain to us the issue, and any information we could use to find these bandits.’

‘Yes, so it all started last week. We had a gang of bandits attack and break into one of the houses. When we checked there, we had found that no one was harmed, but all the valuables were stolen. This happened against three days ago, and now again, just last night.’

‘So, they’re just a bunch of petty thieves?’

‘Not quite. Last night we had someone wandering the village back from the pub at night when he came across these bandits. He counted three of them, and there was a bit of a confrontation, and well … you had better see for yourself.’ He waved for them to follow him up the stairs, and on the second floor, resting in one of the beds, was a man that looked like a figure of death.

His skin had dried and turned dark, and his cheeks were hollowed and caved. He looked like a human who had been mummified but was still breathing and staring out at the scene in front of him with great weakness. ‘Heeeeeelp … meeeeee,’ the voice that dragged from his mouth was quiet and low, like a whisper of the wind.

Arla knelt by his side and lifted his hand, her lips pursed, and her eyebrows knotted in confusion. ‘I feel a deep and foreboding magic through his skin. I have never felt this kind of magic before.’

‘Don’t worry, I didn’t expect you to be useful in the first place, Red Elf,’ Jackson said. Arla ignored this.

‘Theeeere weeere threeee of theeem.’

‘Luckily, I don’t need to be able to recognise the magic. What’s your name?’

‘Aaandeeer.’

Arla pulled out a curious syringe from her bag and pressed it into his skin. ‘Ander, I will take an extract of this magic. This device from the Royal Army allows us to track the residual of the magic to better find the cause of magical attacks and accidents.’ She pressed in the syringe and drew out a volume of thick, purple mist that folded and unfolded upon itself. She pulled it from his arm, laid it flat on her hand. The syringe gave a shudder and spun around to the north-east. ‘It looks like we now know the direction where the magic came from.’

‘To the north-east, that’s where the Jade Temple is,’ Jackson said, as if in repentance for being proven wrong.

‘What’s the Jade Temple?’

‘It’s a mysterious temple that juts out from a cliff. They say that it has never ever been open, and inside it, it is rumoured that there are a number of valuable and magical treasures.’

‘Interesting. Well, we’ll be off. Locke, Trys.’ The Jade Temple, if what he says is true, and it is filled with magical items, could this be the result of one of these items? Well, that’s assuming that they somehow gained access in the first place. I’ll just scout the area beforehand.

But then another thought struck her.

Why are they looting gold? Does the Jade Temple not have the riches as Jackson said? Is the Jade Temple not involved at all, and this powerful magic that left this person mummified is the result of one of these people?

They left Jackson at the inn and returned to their Pegasuses. They jumped on their backs, slapped their behinds and shot into the air. From their vantage point, they flew over the treetops, eyes scanning down at the scenery below.

As described, there was a cliff a kilometre to the north-east, and they could make out what appeared to be a temple that jutted out from the wall. The temple was made of a thick jade, and two snake statues stood tall at the entrance, weathered by years upon years of rain and storm. Two thick slabs of jade were shut tight upon the entryway of the Jade Temple.

Arla leaned forward, squinting her eyes. Down, in the middle of the sea of trees, there was a hill that broke through the mass of green. A girl laid down on the hill on her stomach, holding a pair of binoculars in front of her and analysing the cliff side.

‘Let’s go down,’ Arla said. She motioned for them to follow, and the Pegasuses dashed down and landed on the ground with a gallop. The girl with the binoculars jumped in fright.