Chapter Thirty One: Varnthol

We continued down the dirt road as the sky turned dark. It was getting late, so I set up a tent and sparked a campfire using a small fire spell. Sitting beside it, I pulled a handful of berries from my bag and quietly began eating.

"Thank you!" Tory said, setting up his camp right next to mine.

I eyed him. Maybe I could squeeze some information out of him...

"So, Tory," I started casually, "know anything about the Order?"

"Well, of course!" he replied, puffing up with pride.

"How about I test you on a few things?"

"Oh, that's gonna be fun!"

"When was the Order created?"

"Uhhh... around 100, maybe 150 years ago? No one really knows exactly when."

I nodded slightly. Good to know.

"And what is the Order?"

"That's kind of a weird question, isn't it?"

"It's not. It's to see what you think it is."

"Ohhh, I get it!" He chuckled. "Well, it's a group of the strongest magical users in the world, banded together to make the world a better place!"

Yeah… not buying it.

"Ever hear of a book called The Mongrath?"

His expression shifted slightly. "There was a meeting about it a few days ago, but low-level recruits like me weren't allowed in."

So the higher-ups of the Order are already moving on this... that's bad news.

"Hey, can we talk about something else?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno, anything!"

"Alright," I said. "Tell me about Varnthol."

Tory's face darkened. "The city used to be amazing. But that was before..."

"Before what?"

"Before the Dashin Empire came."

That caught me off guard. From what I've seen, the Dashin Empire has improved most places.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they did improve things for most folks. But not here. The gangs took over. They pay off the city guards, even have a general on their payroll. No one's strong enough to stop them."

Corrupt guards. Crooked generals. Typical.

Tory yawned. "Well, it's getting late. I'm gonna sleep now. See you tomorrow, Lia!"

"Good night."

He retreated to his camp, leaving me alone by the fire. I stared into the flames as they danced, a painful reminder of what had been taken from me. Day four… out of ten years. Was this all a waste?

I clenched my jaw and crawled into my tent.

The next morning, we woke early and resumed our journey to Varnthol.

By noon, we finally arrived. The city loomed ahead—dirty, broken, and full of people who barely lifted their heads. No one wanted to talk. Some spat curses at me, others begged for coin. No useful information.

Fine. If the streets were dead, maybe Tory would be of use.

"Hey, Tory! Wait up."

He turned around. "You coming with?"

"For now."

He led me into a back alley, through winding streets until we reached a rundown shack. If you could even call it a house. I stayed outside as he insisted on seeing his family alone.

I leaned on the wall nearby.

From inside, a voice rang out:"TORY!!!" A young girl, probably no older than fifteen, screamed with joy.

I could hear laughter, muffled hugs, and soft words through the paper-thin walls. A sister… must be the one he mentioned.

I waited in the shadows as the minutes dragged on.

Eventually, Tory stepped out, wiping dust off his cloak.

"All done?" I asked.

"Yeah, sorry for making you wait. My sister wouldn't let me go without stuffing me full of bread." He grinned.

I crossed my arms. "Where's the nearest library?"

"Ah, sure thing! Follow me."

We moved together through the filthy streets, past guards who ignored us and thugs who eyed us like prey.

Soon, we reached a crumbling building half-swallowed by ivy and time. The sign above the door read:Varnthol Public Archives.

"This is it," Tory said. "No one really comes here anymore... but they should still have what you're looking for."

I stared at the rotting structure. Whatever answers lay inside, they were buried deep.

Without another word, we pushed open the doors and stepped into the dark.