Chapter 504: Spellbroken
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
Chapter 504: Spell-broken
Spell-broken
For a moment, none of the young wizards spoke nor moved. They all gazed at the older mage with varying emotions written on their face.
"Atreus?" Martel stammered. "The Spellbreaker?"
"Is that a common name and epithet among your people?" Maximilian asked.
"You said you were cursed," Eleanor added.
Seemingly oblivious to the questions directed at him, whether through words or expressions, the man claiming to be Atreus glanced around at the narrow alleyway. "If this is Aster, what city is this? Morcaster?"
"Indeed. You did not know your own location?" Maximilian wondered.
"The curse left my mind closer to that of a dog than a man. But we should find a safer place to talk. Clearly, my enemy knows of my presence." He looked at where the smoke creature had been vanquished. "Does the Lykeion still stand?"
"The what?" Martel asked.
"That is the Archean name for the Lyceum," Eleanor explained. "And yes, it does."
"Good. Not all was destroyed when Archen fell. Its wards will protect us. I suggest you lead the way, and we may speak at ease once inside its walls."
The young wizards looked at each other, and Maximilian shrugged. "I advocated retreat all along."
"Very well," Eleanor assented. They turned east and began the journey home.
***
Despite the sense of urgency, their pace was not exactly brisk, hamstrung by Atreus being weak. More than once, he reached out to steady himself against Maximilian or Martel, walking on either side of him; Eleanor, after exchanging a glance with Martel, had slipped behind to bring up the rear, keeping an eye on their new companion from that position. Likewise, Martel found his gaze constantly drawn back to him.
A short while later, they stood in the western courtyard. They had drawn a few glances crossing the entrance hall, but nobody had bothered to ask them for an explanation. Now, they stood in front of the weathered statue of one Atreus the Spellbreaker, renowned for defeating the fiends that threatened Morcaster as explained on the inscription.
"Damn me to the Nether, but it does look like him," Maximilian admitted grudgingly as they looked from the statue to the older wizard in their company.
Atreus frowned. "My forehead is not that big, is it?"
"It's not small," Martel mumbled.
"A mistake in the inscription," he continued, brushing away rotting leaves. "It says 'fiends', but if there had been more than one, I'd surely be dead now. You don't survive two of those."
"What are they?" Eleanor asked.
Atreus did not seem to hear. "This statue is old." His eyes ran over the weathered stonework. "How long has it been? Last I remember, before the curse sank the fog upon my mind, the city crumbled to ruin around me." He turned towards his companions. "How long has it been since the fall of Archen?"
The youths exchanged glances. "Three hundred years, give or take," Eleanor finally replied.
He released a drawn-out sigh. Slowly, the spellbreaker sank down to sit upon the pedestal of his own statue. "Did anything survive? I know the city itself was destroyed, but what of our outposts? Our repositories of knowledge, our centres of learning and study?"
"Only the Lyceum, I believe," she replied.
"Which was never our stronghold to begin with," Atreus mumbled. "No wonder I languished for so many years before someone had the wit and skill to release me. There's none left but me – me and her."
"Who?" Martel asked.
The spellbreaker looked around in the courtyard. "Though I can handle the cold as well as others, could we retire indoors?"
"The astronomy tower is not in use today," Eleanor suggested.
The Archean wizard nodded slowly. "Let us go there, and I shall tell you my story."
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 504: Spell-broken
Spell-broken
For a moment, none of the young wizards spoke nor moved. They all gazed at the older mage with varying emotions written on their face.
"Atreus?" Martel stammered. "The Spellbreaker?"
"Is that a common name and epithet among your people?" Maximilian asked.
"You said you were cursed," Eleanor added.
Seemingly oblivious to the questions directed at him, whether through words or expressions, the man claiming to be Atreus glanced around at the narrow alleyway. "If this is Aster, what city is this? Morcaster?"
"Indeed. You did not know your own location?" Maximilian wondered.
"The curse left my mind closer to that of a dog than a man. But we should find a safer place to talk. Clearly, my enemy knows of my presence." He looked at where the smoke creature had been vanquished. "Does the Lykeion still stand?"
"The what?" Martel asked.
"That is the Archean name for the Lyceum," Eleanor explained. "And yes, it does."
"Good. Not all was destroyed when Archen fell. Its wards will protect us. I suggest you lead the way, and we may speak at ease once inside its walls."
The young wizards looked at each other, and Maximilian shrugged. "I advocated retreat all along."
"Very well," Eleanor assented. They turned east and began the journey home.
***
Despite the sense of urgency, their pace was not exactly brisk, hamstrung by Atreus being weak. More than once, he reached out to steady himself against Maximilian or Martel, walking on either side of him; Eleanor, after exchanging a glance with Martel, had slipped behind to bring up the rear, keeping an eye on their new companion from that position. Likewise, Martel found his gaze constantly drawn back to him.
A short while later, they stood in the western courtyard. They had drawn a few glances crossing the entrance hall, but nobody had bothered to ask them for an explanation. Now, they stood in front of the weathered statue of one Atreus the Spellbreaker, renowned for defeating the fiends that threatened Morcaster as explained on the inscription.
"Damn me to the Nether, but it does look like him," Maximilian admitted grudgingly as they looked from the statue to the older wizard in their company.
Atreus frowned. "My forehead is not that big, is it?"
"It's not small," Martel mumbled.
"A mistake in the inscription," he continued, brushing away rotting leaves. "It says 'fiends', but if there had been more than one, I'd surely be dead now. You don't survive two of those."
"What are they?" Eleanor asked.
Atreus did not seem to hear. "This statue is old." His eyes ran over the weathered stonework. "How long has it been? Last I remember, before the curse sank the fog upon my mind, the city crumbled to ruin around me." He turned towards his companions. "How long has it been since the fall of Archen?"
The youths exchanged glances. "Three hundred years, give or take," Eleanor finally replied.
He released a drawn-out sigh. Slowly, the spellbreaker sank down to sit upon the pedestal of his own statue. "Did anything survive? I know the city itself was destroyed, but what of our outposts? Our repositories of knowledge, our centres of learning and study?"
"Only the Lyceum, I believe," she replied.
"Which was never our stronghold to begin with," Atreus mumbled. "No wonder I languished for so many years before someone had the wit and skill to release me. There's none left but me – me and her."
"Who?" Martel asked.
The spellbreaker looked around in the courtyard. "Though I can handle the cold as well as others, could we retire indoors?"
"The astronomy tower is not in use today," Eleanor suggested.
The Archean wizard nodded slowly. "Let us go there, and I shall tell you my story."
Chapter 504: Spell-brokenSpell-brokenFor a moment, none of the young wizards spoke nor moved. They all gazed at the older mage with varying emotions written on their face."Atreus?" Martel stammered. "The Spellbreaker?""Is that a common name and epithet among your people?" Maximilian asked."You said you were cursed," Eleanor added.Seemingly oblivious to the questions directed at him, whether through words or expressions, the man claiming to be Atreus glanced around at the narrow alleyway. "If this is Aster, what city is this? Morcaster?""Indeed. You did not know your own location?" Maximilian wondered."The curse left my mind closer to that of a dog than a man. But we should find a safer place to talk. Clearly, my enemy knows of my presence." He looked at where the smoke creature had been vanquished. "Does the Lykeion still stand?""The what?" Martel asked."That is the Archean name for the Lyceum," Eleanor explained. "And yes, it does.""Good. Not all was destroyed when Archen fell. Its wards will protect us. I suggest you lead the way, and we may speak at ease once inside its walls."The young wizards looked at each other, and Maximilian shrugged. "I advocated retreat all along.""Very well," Eleanor assented. They turned east and began the journey home.***Despite the sense of urgency, their pace was not exactly brisk, hamstrung by Atreus being weak. More than once, he reached out to steady himself against Maximilian or Martel, walking on either side of him; Eleanor, after exchanging a glance with Martel, had slipped behind to bring up the rear, keeping an eye on their new companion from that position. Likewise, Martel found his gaze constantly drawn back to him.A short while later, they stood in the western courtyard. They had drawn a few glances crossing the entrance hall, but nobody had bothered to ask them for an explanation. Now, they stood in front of the weathered statue of one Atreus the Spellbreaker, renowned for defeating the fiends that threatened Morcaster as explained on the inscription."Damn me to the Nether, but it does look like him," Maximilian admitted grudgingly as they looked from the statue to the older wizard in their company.Atreus frowned. "My forehead is not that big, is it?""It's not small," Martel mumbled."A mistake in the inscription," he continued, brushing away rotting leaves. "It says 'fiends', but if there had been more than one, I'd surely be dead now. You don't survive two of those.""What are they?" Eleanor asked.Atreus did not seem to hear. "This statue is old." His eyes ran over the weathered stonework. "How long has it been? Last I remember, before the curse sank the fog upon my mind, the city crumbled to ruin around me." He turned towards his companions. "How long has it been since the fall of Archen?"The youths exchanged glances. "Three hundred years, give or take," Eleanor finally replied.He released a drawn-out sigh. Slowly, the spellbreaker sank down to sit upon the pedestal of his own statue. "Did anything survive? I know the city itself was destroyed, but what of our outposts? Our repositories of knowledge, our centres of learning and study?""Only the Lyceum, I believe," she replied."Which was never our stronghold to begin with," Atreus mumbled. "No wonder I languished for so many years before someone had the wit and skill to release me. There's none left but me me and her.""Who?" Martel asked.The spellbreaker looked around in the courtyard. "Though I can handle the cold as well as others, could we retire indoors?""The astronomy tower is not in use today," Eleanor suggested.The Archean wizard nodded slowly. "Let us go there, and I shall tell you my story."
