Duchy of Plymouth (3)

"As promised, I will tell you what you wish," the Duke said, pressing his palms to the desk in anticipation.

"The place you seek is where I came from. Netherane has no one living there; there are empty cities and a large land for you to claim. Is that what you wanted?"

The Duke raised a brow. "I suppose that would work, but why is that place empty? Didn't you come from there?"

"Yes, and everyone who lived there died over the years. A war a long time ago sent the territory into decline, and now everyone is dead."

"But how is that possible if you're still here? A population can't reach zero that easily. It's been almost 1,000 years, and the Duchy's population is at 5,000. Our peak was around 100,000. Isn't Netherane huge? I have maps you know. I'm not a fool to believe no one is left."

"Hah, why do you have to push the issue? In truth I killed everyone, that's why I know no one is left. I was pretty thorough from what I can remember, though it was pretty hazy."

"What? Wait... didn't you... about a feeling of.... how do you still have powers if you said Netherane no longer had any?"

The Duke stood up, he instinctively drew his sword and pressed it against Cain's throat.

"Relax, I absorbed the core, that's why. Happy?"

"Absorbed? But you're not a ruler? Unless you're a high-level gatherer... how?"

"I don't know. But it seems gatherers have a use for cores too. How about you say more about that?"

"I won't! Leave!"

"Afraid not. It seems I'll have to do something I was hoping against. It really seemed I didn't have to take such drastic measures for once."

"Stop!" Plymouth pushed his blade forward into Cain's throat, but he felt no resistance as if he were pushing through air.

Staring at his target, he saw a red vapor emerge. Lowering his sight to where he attacked, he saw a gaping hole in Cain's neck, from which the smoke was coming.

"It seems the weakening isn't so great anymore. I'm pretty adaptable, aren't I?"

Cain's body became elusive as his image turned blurry and he moved behind the Duke before re-materializing.

"Now I can give you two choices: tell me where you keep those maps you spoke of and die, or have your mind meld into the mist and become my pawn for eternity."

...

Horror was the only thing Plymouth could feel as Cain's body stretched, and mist reached out towards him. The cloud of despair stopped just before his eyes as he saw faces jump out, cries and weeps so heart-wrenching that he collapsed, escaping from their muffled mouths.

"This will be your fate if you choose the latter."

"I-I will choose the former. The maps are in the vault in the basement, with some old texts. You don't need anything to enter; the vault door is already broken."

"Thank you. Now for the reward."

Cain took his maul from his hip and smashed it against the Duke's head. Bits of brain spread, and Cain made sure to protect himself from the mess.

'Pity, he asked too many questions. Well, I will spare your people. Your sacrifice wasn't in vain, Duke of Plymouth.'

Cain turned illusory as he quietly traveled through the manor and into the basement. There he took a moment to memorize the maps.

'They are well-made, but don't go very far other than this subjective map of the landfill. Seems this is the southern part of the outer zone, and I'm near its center. It shouldn't take a long time to reach the middle zone.'

The map showed the Landfill as a circle. In the center was a big circle titled the inner zone, then another around it, which was thinner, called the middle zone. Then another ring around that was the outer zone. From there, the map said it went on for infinity; this was called the abyss, where new territories were added over time.

'From what I can see, North of here is a bunch of danger zones. The old parts of Plymouth are called the dried lands of scorn. From there is the desert of black stingers, and finally, the Wastelands of dead deities... though this place borders the closest settled territory, some kind of ocean? What the hell is an ocean?'

After memorizing the Duke's maps, Cain meticulously gathered supplies from around the manor for his journey. Even with some of his powers returned, he was still weaker than before; he would have to take care to survive.

'I did learn a lot. It seems cores can be used, but I shouldn't have been able to absorb mine? I need to gain more knowledge before making any decisions...'

Since he was going to be traveling to barren lands, he searched the manor for clothes that would suit such a journey. Though all he found was an old brown cloak. It was worn but covered his whole body and head, so it would do.

He also grabbed some food and water in case there were no organisms he could feast on through the mist, plus his body was no longer immortal, Cain had to sleep and eat from time to time.

With everything set, he lit the manor on fire and made his escape; Cain had always been a bit of an arsonist.

......

Cain walked on a small road, heading out of the Duchy. Looking around, he realized just how small the Duchy really was. There were no towns except for the one the Duke oversaw. All there was were fields of wheat dotted with the occasional village.

The Duchy was heading toward destruction, though they should figure something out. The forest was part of the duchy, and if the land kept receding, some of them should find the waterfall.

A dry wind blew against him as the dirt turned dry with cracks. He stepped into his first danger zone; these places also had another name in one of the books he peeked at in the Duke's vault: degraded or more commonly, corrupt zones. These were terms used by travelers who wandered the Landfill.

If Cain had to guess, these degraded zones were caused by the loss of the cores that once powered them. Without the core's power, the land deteriorated into these barren wastelands.

The cores were the lifeblood of territories, merging everything together. Their loss must have fractured that bond. Cain hoped this was the case, it could lead to a connection with the weird force he felt.

It would make sense since Cain could feel that weird energy less in the Duchy. If these areas had none of this energy, it must be because of the core.

He was eager to head inside this dried-up land to prove this theory.

The harsh heat beat down on Cain as he stepped into the dessert if cracked earth. Dry, sandy winds swept over the barren landscape, stinging his eyes and casting gritty dust over his cloak.

He pulled the hood tighter as he walked, his boots crunching on the parched ground riddled with deep fissures. Waves of heat distorted a wandering figure as they disappeared into a hazy mirage.