The Secrets of Lore Seymour

100. Ebony Hawinan

The ride down to Brinsbane was cramped, as Marthia and Ristain assured me that it would be. The city we stop in is by no means large, more of a small town surrounded by small farming villages. Once here, I realize there are quite a few hiding places nearby that Olere taught me about. Places to hide if we ever got overwhelmed and needed to heal or rest. Weren't there a few that Olere only shared with me?

I keep to the back streets, wearing plain clothes and a hat to shield my face. When I spot the steeple of a church high over the streets, I ensure to go the opposite way. Never thought a day would come when I react this way to a church. I don't want to risk anyone being here who knows me, especially Holland. I doubt I could take him on. Olere never beat him and I never beat Olere. I have to find him before Holland does and keep us as far away from him as I can, if Holland is truly after Olere. Hopefully I'm overreacting. Though Holland traveling does point to trouble, regardless of whether it has to do with Olere or not.

Over the next three days I search the surrounding area. On the third night, I move further and further away from Brinsbane, investigating the woods or abandoned houses that may work as a temporary shelter. There's no signs of him until the fifth night, after I hopped on a train ride to a few towns over. There's another hiding place near here that I check, an old wine cellar for a house that burned down ages ago. Trees and shrubbery have hidden any sign of the entrance, however, there's dried blood on the leaves. I push aside the shrubs to find the rusted handle of the cellar, also bloody.

I try not to think about what the blood means, that there's a possibility Olere will be down here and there won't be anything I can do for him. Instead, I think of all the reasons he would be fine; because he's Olere, he's tough and knows far more than I ever will. Because I need him to be okay. Because I can't lose anymore family.

Stepping through the door, there's dim light coming from the bottom of the stairs. I can't sense anyone so either a stranger left a fire going or there's a mage hiding down there. Could be Olere. Could be Holland waiting for anyone snooping. Grabbing the dagger I purchased from a shop in Brisbane, I clutch the weapon in my grasp, building power until the blade shimmers gold.

Stepping around the curved steps, I peer into the wine cellar. A man lays at the back, curled up in a long trench coat. A small fire flickers nearby, hovering over nothing and releasing heat but no smoke. Definitely a mage's doing. Containers of water and cans of food litter the corner, opened and used, along with a few bandages from the pile stashed beneath a stone here. That stone has been moved as well, haphazardly thrown aside with bloody handprints marking the sides. This could be a trap so I scan the area for anything suspicious. About the only worrying sign is the blood that has seeped into the man's trench coat and stained the stone floor he lays on.

"Olere?" I call. The man doesn't move. I step closer, carefully, observing the cracked stone walls. When I reach the man, I rest my hand on his shoulder. He's chilled even with the fire.

"Olere?" I whisper, pushing him towards me to examine his features.

Olere's beaten bloody, an eye swelled shut. Bruises litter the entirety of the left side of his face, lip busted and clothes a scarlet mess. I pull the cloth aside, finding Olere haphazardly managed to tend to his wounds. A large gash along his right side seems to have been partially healed, but he either had to run or passed out before he finished. At least he's breathing, albeit burning up from a fever.

Tugging off his bloody clothes, I get to work to do the best that I can. I fear these injuries means Olere did run into Holland, or at the very least a large enough force to put him in this kind of condition. There weren't rumors of a battle in Brinsbane though. A battle between two champions, there would have been talk. Many would have seen the battle, even if Holland got the jump on him. Where were they that no one knows of the battle and that Olere got here in time to hide?