Chapter 42

Aric led the team through the bustling streets of the town, their footsteps echoing against the cobblestone roads. The air crackled with anticipation as they neared their destination—the residence where the esteemed guild master, Magnus, sought respite. Each corner turned revealed glimpses of a world teeming with life, the vibrant colors of market stalls, and the scent of exotic spices mingling with the hum of conversation.

On the way there Aric spoke about himself and how he was an orphan abandoned in the nearby forest and how Magnus found him. Finally, they arrived at a seemingly ordinary house tucked away amidst the labyrinthine streets. Aric halted, his gaze fixed upon the entrance, and with a resolute voice, he turned to Astaroth, his eyes ablaze with determination.

"Magnus rests inside, wearied not by injury but by the burdens he carries," Aric explained, his words laced with urgency. "His spirits may be at their lowest right now, but I shall do my utmost to convince him to pen the letter you seek. Alright, let us go in." Aric gave a few knocks on the wooden door and then entered the house.

As they cautiously stepped inside the house, their eyes widened at the sight of a towering figure slumped over a table in a dark corner. The atmosphere was thick with an oppressive aura of despair that seemed to cling to the very walls. Aric, his heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and determination, mustered the courage to approach the brooding man. With a steady hand, he placed it gently on the man's broad shoulder, his voice filled with a hint of urgency.

Aric, his heart pulsating with determination, approached the desolate figure. With a gentle yet firm touch, he rested his hand upon the man's broad shoulder. "Uncle," he began, his voice infused with a mix of concern and resolve, "we must break free from the clutches of this despair. Though what is lost cannot be regained, there is still a glimmer of hope, a path forward that beckons us."

The man slowly raised his head, revealing deep lines etched on his weathered face, carved by the weight of sorrow. "Aric, I have lost everything, the building is gone now… I have lost the most important thing my master has left for me. The fire took it all…"

"You need to snap out of it, there are still adventures that need your help. The building may be a symbol but uncle you are the guild master, you are Magnus Ironfist the first adventurer in Ravenspire who has conquered hundreds of dungeons, and you are the symbol as well.

The man's weary eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope as Aric's words echoed in his ears. He shook off the shackles of despair that had gripped his heart and stood tall, his broad shoulders squared with determination. His once-slumped posture transformed into one of resilience and strength.

"You're right, Aric," the guild master declared, his voice filled with newfound conviction. "The fire may have devoured our sanctuary, but it cannot consume our spirit. I am the guild master, entrusted with the legacy of our ancestors. I don't have time to wader in self-pity, I see you brought someone with you. Magnus turns around and looks at Astaroth and Lalitha.

"I am Astaroth and my partner here is Lalitha, we would like to go to Sanctavia. Nick the receptionist at the guild was preparing our documents but unfortunately, the fire burns down everything, including our request. If the guild master can help us to write a letter that would allow us to go past the boarders' gate into Sanctavia we will be thankful." Astaroth explains his purpose to Magnus.

Magnus, his wise eyes glistening with curiosity, carefully pondered Astaroth's words. "So, you seek entrance to Sanctavia for the festival of thanks, do you?" he mused, his voice betraying a hint of skepticism. "I must admit, both of you do not strike me as fervent zealots. Nevertheless, I am willing to pen a letter on your behalf. However, in return, I have a modest request to make of both of you."

"Don't worry, it won't be anything that will put you at risk or involve abnormal requests," Magnus reassured Astaroth with a sly smile. "I simply need you to deliver a letter to the esteemed Adventurer Guild Master in Sanctavia. How does that sound? If you agree, I will swiftly write both letters for you."

Astaroth's curiosity was piqued as he realized there was an Adventurer Guild in Sanctavia, a city shrouded in mystery and whispered tales of ancient treasures. With a nonchalant shrug, he nodded in agreement, unable to resist the allure of the unknown. "Sure, since we're already heading there, we can deliver the letter to the Guild Master in Sanctavia. Count me in," Astaroth declared with newfound determination.

With the letters carefully sealed, Magnus handed them to Astaroth, his voice carrying a note of both caution and anticipation. "Be vigilant, my friend, for shadows are lurking in Sanctavia's alleys. Trust no one, and remember, the fate of both our worlds may rest upon the delivery of those very letters."

Astaroth's brows furrowed, his expression filled with suspicion as he absorbed Magnus' words. "Didn't you assure me this was a simple letter delivery with no risks involved? What's all this talk about the fate of our worlds? It sounds like utter nonsense." Aric, standing nearby, couldn't help but let out a dry cough before responding. "Please disregard our esteemed guild master's eccentricities. He has a habit of embellishing even the simplest of missions to entice adventurers. It's one of his many quirks."

Magnus erupted into boisterous laughter, his deep chuckles echoing through the room. "Hahahaha! Gotcha! It truly is just a letter delivery, as promised. The guild master's name is Glenda White, a legendary warrior hailing from Sanctavia. Simply hand her this letter, and your task will be complete. Oh, and here's the border pass," he said, pointing to another letter, "bearing my stamp. Crossing the Yosnad-Sanctavia border should pose no issue. However, if your journey takes you further, I highly recommend obtaining proper travel documents from the adventurer guild in Sanctavia."

Astaroth took the two letters and kept in inside his clothes, "Thank you, guild master, we will like to leave immediately as the journey to Sanctavia has already been delayed. Rest assured that the letter will go to Glenda White once we reach Sanctavia."

"Alright, I've got nothing else. By the way, Astaroth, what do you make of the inferno that devoured our guild, only to be extinguished by a sudden downpour?" Magnus squinted his eyes, keenly observing Astaroth and Lalitha.

"Well, I suppose the rain could be a mere coincidence," Astaroth replied, his voice dripping with intrigue. "There were already ominous storm clouds gathering that evening. Thanks for the letters, Magnus. Until we meet again." With a dismissive nod, Astaroth and Lalitha gracefully departed the premises.

As the pair strode away from the charred remains of the guild, Aric, filled with curiosity, approached the guild master. "What's on your mind? Do you suspect Astaroth and Lalitha might have had a hand in the inferno? I conducted a thorough investigation. The fire originated from one of the rooms, and though most of it was reduced to smoldering ashes, I managed to find a minuscule fragment. It belonged to a magical crystal—a summoning crystal, to be precise. It's highly likely that it once contained the power of tier-five fire magic."

Magnus turned to Aric, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and concern. "I know the fire was caused by magic. There are no suspects at the moment. But what troubles me more is the rain that fell, abruptly extinguishing the tier-five magic fire. No ordinary rain cloud can possess such power."

Aric nodded, his brows furrowing with intrigue. "You're right. Shall I follow them? Though I doubt they have any connection to the rain, my conversation with Nick revealed they were at the inn, having dinner when he discovered them. They claim to be a warrior and an archer, and their mana levels seem surprisingly low..."

Magnus leaned closer, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. "You realize, don't you, Aric? There's something undeniably peculiar about them when you think about it." Despite his heartache over the lost guild, Magnus remained astute, ever watchful of those around him.

Aric's gaze sharpened, and he met his uncle's eyes. "The girl... Her visage bears an uncanny resemblance to the witch of Yosnad. Oddly enough, I haven't heard any news of her in recent days. And come to think of it, the king, the general, and their knights have all gone missing, yet no one has uttered a word about the infamous witch, Elizabeth."

Magnus closed his eyes, deep in contemplation. The presence of the mysterious girl beside Astaroth piqued his curiosity. If she was the White of Yosnad, then who exactly was this enigmatic Astaroth? The name held no familiarity for Magnus, and the sudden disappearance of both the king and the general, along with their knights, only added to the intrigue. His mind raced with questions, urging him to uncover the truth. Should he dispatch a message to Lock, who had been assigned the task of searching for clues regarding the missing king? Aric, too, seemed lost in his thoughts, his brow furrowed in contemplation.