As the party broke camp, the sleep seemed to have bolstered the general mood. Even Agnese Oatspell seemed a little more relaxed. But he still was wondering about the shadow he saw overnight. He kept it to himself, as all it would do is raise speculation, and at this point, that would be unproductive. The mission was to get to Lawcrane, and anything that detracted from that mission was superfluous.

Bedrolls packed and a quick set of rations consumed, they broke camp and headed down to the road to continue their travels. The sky was clear, and the lack of cloud cover overnight let the little heat from the ground escape toward the stars. Beivalur enjoyed this type of weather. It reminded him of the warmer days with his tribe. While everyone else pulled their coats a little tighter, Beivalur felt it was downright balmy.

With everyone in a lighter mood, jokes went back and forth. Many were old chestnuts that popped up when someone had run out of jokes, others were a little off-color and new, like the one about the barbarian and the three shells. The day, and the miles, rolled along effortlessly. They stopped at a small hill on the road, and they all sat for a quick bite to eat. The scene was pastoral, with rolling hills of green and the occasional farm in the distance. Rumor was that this part of Orsholon – in fact, most of Orsholon – was part of a massive city that spanned the land from the Rinzeremel Mountains to the Nawal Sea. Most Orsholonians couldn’t conceive of such a thing. How did they travel? How did they feed the masses? And where did it go?

Most believed it was destroyed in The Cataclysm. Orsholonians survived the 30-Year Winter by heading underground and into the caves north of Orsholon City. The caves were now closed off in deference to the lives lost so long ago, but surely there had to be some signs of this city. Or perhaps it was just a myth, like so much surrounding Orsholonian history.

The Cataclysm was something that people were afraid to discuss. The biggest taboo was the discussion of “Ene.” It was considered an evil construct that could destroy worlds. It was feared by not just Orsholonians, but most of Arnathia. One group, however – The Heretics had tried for centuries to convince Arnathians otherwise. They were forced to hide and meet secretly as Arnathians did not want anything to remotely increase the chance of another Cataclysm. Magic they could accept, but not the abomination of Ene.

As they finished their mid-day meal, a herd of deer ran across the road toward the mountains. “I think that’s a sign we should resume,” chuckled Beivalur. And so it was.

The party gathered up their packs, and they set out again. The goal was to reach the Aka Forest by late afternoon. They should only need about 3 hours to get there, and the suns had just passed their zenith. The warmth of the suns on their shoulders gave the party a lighter step.

As the suns began to slowly move toward the horizon, the party could make out the edge of the Aka Forest in the distance. There were always rumors of strange things happening in the Aka Forest, and while Agnese put little stock into such stories, he didn’t want to tempt fate by traveling through at night. No, they would encamp on the west side and travel through in the morning.

Near the forest’s edge, a small road led off to the north, through a stone boulder wall. Beyond that, a small stone building. No signs, nor markings indicated what it might be.

“Hey, we’ve still got some daylight. We should go check that place out! Whaddaya think?” Courtenay asked.

Agnese responded, “I think it’s not the road to Lawcrane, and we have no need to waste time on it.”

Courtenay wasn’t going to give up that easily. “Come on. We’re gonna stop for the night in a few minutes anyway. Oh, wait, is the big man with the sword afraid?”

Agnese, for some reason, took the bait. “Get out of my way!” and pushed past Courtenay and headed up the side road toward the building. After a short rise, the road dipped into a depression. The nature of the building and its surroundings became clear: they had happened upon a graveyard. The building was a mausoleum.

Beivalur became uncomfortable. “We should leave here. We have no business on these grounds.”

“Oh, come on! There’s plenty of light out! We’ve got time. Let’s check it out!”. There was no question what Courtenay wanted to do. She was already walking toward the mausoleum.

The building was ancient. The stone had worn away over time, rounding what had once been sharp corners. There was a single entrance framed by tall columns. Inscriptions carved into the face of the building had also worn away, but could still be made out. The name above the entrance to the mausoleum read “Ormalt.”

“This seems like a pretty big building for a family I’ve never heard of.” Courtenay was hoping to intrigue the party. “Ring a bell with any of you?”

No one seemed to have heard of the family. But Courtenay had a point. It seemed that a family influential enough to have a mausoleum should be known to someone.

Beivalur was becoming more agitated. “We need to leave. This is a temple to Kimem. The inscription below the name – [url:https://www.worldanvil.com/w/Arnathia/a/orsholon-dialect-of-urnati-article]Qiweqo bia o aq ob amia[/url] – is the belief of Kimem. We are on holy ground. We should leave now.”

Ninette suddenly caught something out of the corner of their eye. Turning to point at it, it was gone. It was a shadow, yet not a shadow, in the sky.

“What are you pointing at?” asked Agnese.

“Nothing, Agnese. Never mind.” But Agnese saw it too. Just like the previous night. Yet he still said nothing about it. “Let’s go, the light is fading, and we have to make camp.”

“Seriously?? We walked all the way up here, and now we’re just gonna leave without checking things out? Come ON!”. Courtenay was egging them on, to no avail. “You want to stay and look around? Enjoy yourself,” said Agnese as he, Beivalur, and Ninette made their way back to the main road.

[tooltip:Zabelar=Damn]”Zabelar!”[/tooltip] was Courtenay’s reply, a mild curse that would be unlikely to offend. Even in a graveyard. “Alright, wait up.”

The party reached the main road and continued to the forest edge. They found a suitable camp spot near the main road, and the previous night’s process of setting up camp was repeated. The camp was on a small rise, slightly higher than the area around the graveyard. They could see an amethyst fog creeping into the depression in front of the mausoleum. Within an hour, all they could see was the top of the building.

While the scene was in the distance, the sight of it crept into the party’s senses like the fog itself. It left them uneasy. What was that unnaturally colored fog, and did it have anything to do with the graveyard itself? No one had any desire to go investigate after dark. This mystery would have to wait for another time.

The watches remained the same, and when it was time, Courtenay and Beivalur waited for Agnese to relieve them. “You two stay here for a bit. I need to relieve myself.”

A little longer wasn’t going to kill anyone, so Courtenay and Beivalur agreed to wait as Agnese walked into the woods.

While the woods in the Zeremel Forest exuded a sense of peace and tranquility, the Aka Forest felt foreign and unsettling. Same oaks and pines, same landscape, but the atmosphere was discomforting. As if there was always something just around the corner.

Agnese found a spot to “water the greenery,” he heard something that sounded like water splashing. But in the middle of the night? He finished his business and began to move toward the sound. In the distance, he could see the shimmer of water in the light of the moon. He heard the splash again. His curiosity piqued, he made his way toward the water.

As he approached the water, he could see that it was a small lake, and at the north end, the same fog covering the graveyard seemed to flow into the lake, or perhaps out of it. On the far side of the lake, he saw the source of the sound: The figure of a naked woman swimming.

Agnese was mesmerized, so much that he failed to pay attention to his footing and tripped over some exposed roots near the water’s edge. He fell, hard, onto the mud at the edge of the lake. And the woman disappeared.

He got up, the front of him covered in mud. He had a change of clothing back at camp, but he’d need to clean these before he put them in his pack. And how would he dry them? Stupid move, not paying attention to where he was going, he thought to himself. Then he realized: He hadn’t seen the woman since he fell. Where had she gone?

Just then, he heard a quiet laugh. A gentle laugh that had the quality of a babbling brook. To his left was the woman, glistening wet in the moonlight. She was tall, taller than most women (and many men). And beautiful. Agnese was dumbstruck, speechless. Here in front of him was a beautiful, nude woman laughing at him.

“Clumsy fellow!” Her voice was teasing, playful. Agnese could not take his eyes off her, and she had noticed. “Do you always stare at someone you’ve just met?”

He finally gained enough composure to stammer out, “Who are you?”

“I could ask you the same question,” she said. “I am Isase. And who might you be?”

Agnese caught himself continuing to stare and looked away, off across the water. “I am Agnese Oatspell, graduate of the Royal Guard Academy.”

“Well, Agnese Oatspell, what causes you to traipse through the woods and trip in the mud?” she teased.

“I… I heard a noise coming from the water and came to investigate.”

“So, am I a mystery for you to solve Agnese Oatspell?” she quipped. She was obviously enjoying his unease.

“What is this place? I mean, it’s a lake, yes, but why does that fog roll into it? And what is that fog?”

“Agnese Oatspell, you certainly have a lot of questions for a man covered in mud. Let me see if I can help with that.”

With a wave of her hands, his clothing – and the mud – began to dry. Within seconds, the mud had dried so much that it hardened and fell away from Agnese’s clothing. His clothes were dry, and he was none the worse for wear. He marveled at the change, looking down at his vest and pants and seeing them looking clean. He looked up to thank Isase – and she was gone.

From the area where the fog met the water, he could hear laughing, and looked to see Isase in the water. “Perhaps we’ll meet again, Agnese Oatspell” and she dove beneath the water, gone. Agnese was as confused as he was when he arrived at the lake.

Then he remembered he had left Courtenay and Beivalur standing watch. He made his way back to the camp. “Where in [tooltip:Qobal=Hell]Qobal[/tooltip] have you been?!” Courtenay was obviously annoyed. “We need sleep too, you thick-headed lunk!”