Little Snake - A Black Legacy

Chapter Four - Ruins

Not only that she had just lost all her belongings and an barely known companion, no, this swirling blackness seemed to almost rob her of consciousness, as panic settled in her insides. Any form of appering was disgusting to her and would always remain so. As the blackness cleared, a wailing pain flared in her right ankle and she groaned in pain, her stomach still churning.

"Are you alright?" the professor asked in near panic, as she cried out and collapsed again while trying to stand up. Hazel took a deep breath and wiped the blood from her eyes, which came from a cut on her forehead. "You're injured," Professor Fig stated soberly as he stood beside her. "Not very," Hazel replied through gritted teeth. Fig, meanwhile, was already fumbling in the pockets of his cloak and handed her an already uncorked, glowing green, potion. Skeptically, her eyes wandered first to the potion, then to Fig and back again, and she reached for it. "Take it. The wiggenweld potion will get you back on your feet quickly." he said. After another confused glance at the potion, Hazel choked it down. "What happened?" She breathed, fighting her nausea, pain and panic.

"Why did he need to... Poor George" muttered the professor in sorrow, pacing back and forth a few steps. "What was the matter with that damn creature? Attack a carriage in flight? A dragon would never do that..." he muttered angrily. "Professor?" asked Hazel anxiously. Fig was now looking around as confused as she was. "Sir,... where are we?" she asked.

"I'm not sure... but the key. That was a portkey" replied the professor. "Portkey?" Hazel asked immediately. She had never heard of that before. "It's an enchanted object that takes you to a certain place" Professor Fig explained.

Hazel nodded, to show that she had understood him, and stood up carefully, putting weight on her right leg only slowly, but she seemed to have no more problem and stood upright. The cut on her forehead also seemed to be closed. She could still feel it, so a scar had remained, just as her body no longer had any open wounds, but definitely still hurt. Groaning a little, Hazel carefully stretched her arms and legs, but found that it was bearable. "I'm fine, sir. We'd better take a look around. Maybe we can find a way out of here" Hazel said. Her voice was a little rough after the scream earlier. Professor Fig nodded and looked at Hazel, still worried. "Yes. BUT stay with me! We don't know who created the key, or why" Fig walked a few steps ahead, while Hazel spun around herself once and took a look at the cave they were apered in. But there was nothing special to be found there. It was rocky and damp. So she followed Fig, attentively. When they stepped out of the cave, a truly breathtaking view awaited them. Cliffs surrounded by sea and in front of them, separated from the main cliff, a pillar with a ruin on it. Seagulls flew around and the foam sprayed high, while a cold and damp breeze greeted them.

"How far did that portkey take us?" wondered Hazel. "Well...to the Scottish Highlands, I'd say. Further than our carriage would have gone" replied Fig, no less in wonder. But on top of everything they were witnessing, the professor was all too aware that they were running out of time if they wanted to arrive reasonably on time. "Sir... These ruins. Do you think..." asked Hazel, pointing to the once magnificent structure that lay in ruins. "That the portkey was supposed to lead us here? Yes I believe so" he finished. With a sort of black humor, Fig added with a dark laugh, "This is certainly not how either of us expected the day to go. I'm sure Miriam sent George that key for a reason. Miriam and George died trying to find where it was supposed to lead. If you are well, I would like to take a look around" he ended. Hazel could understand why Fig would want to look around. They certainly could have just aperated somewhere on the mainland, but here was the secret of his friend and his wife, which they were looking for and died in the process. " Definitely professor. Don't worry, I'm fine, sir," she replied then. "Well, good, I'm glad. Surely there should be a path somewhere around here?" the professor said slowly, and Hazel pointed to a faded, dusty path through the rocks. Rocks had fallen from the ceiling of the tunnel over time, and clay vases and sacks full of dusty things were lying everywhere. They wearily climbed along collapsed passages, stumbled over bones of adventurers who died here, and Professor Fig had her melt a wall of ice that stopped them in their tracks. No particular challenge, except for the exhaustion and the skirt she was wearing. They didn't talk too much in the dusty tunnels, the loss of the professor and the shock in Hazel's chest were too deep. From >a girl without magic with strange dreams and empty eyes< to a woman, reasonably talented in magic, who had seen a man die in one day, had seen a dragon rage and almost died from it all. Her heart was still racing and the hand holding her wand was visibly shaking. Inwardly, she scolded herself for having started to tear down her protective wall when she met Fig and subconsciously rebuilt it piece by piece. She had to be able to function, because the magical world was far more dangerous than she thought.

After about an hour of walking, they came to a stop, quite exhausted. The end of the path was the sea, exactly opposite them the cliff column with the ruin. Between them raging waves and rushing tides. "Take a step back, I'll create a path for us," Fig said, pulling out his wand. Exhausted, Hazel leaned against a cliff wall for a short rest, amazed at the sheer power inherent in magic as the professor cast Reparo - the repair spell - and restored an entire stone passageway leading to the ruin. "Wow," Hazel wondered, wiping sweat from her brow with her handkerchief. "Are you feeling all right? Should we take a short break?" Fig asked her fatherly, but Hazel took a deep breath and shook her head.

The professor hadn't noticed the changes in Hazel at first, but the way she straightened her shoulders when he asked her, how she took a breath and her eyes hardened, showed him that this adventure had truly not passed without a trace and under normal circumstances, would have taken its toll on the young witch long ago. He was also somewhat exhausted. The loss gnawed heavily at him, but he tried not to let his thoughts snap.

"I'm fine, Professor," she said, and walked ahead of him along the stone passage to the only remaining recognizable main hall of the ruins.

An impressive spectacle presented itself to them. Nature had reclaimed much of this place, breaking through the stone slabs and bricks everywhere to let her flowers, bushes and trees grow. Only a few stairs were still accessible, as well as a kind of hall and a balcony corridor to the back. The witch and the wizard walked into the center of the hall, which had long lost its roof and barely intact walls. Moss and vines had grown everywhere, but straight ahead a wall could be seen, with a stone portrait and to their left a tall stature. "Why did someone build that?" Hazel asked. Fig noticed how well controlled she was speaking. "I don't know. Maybe we'll find a clue if we look around here." Fig said, and Hazel stepped right up to the stone image. "A crystal ball and tarot cards?" remarked Hazel. An elderly man was seen sitting in a chair, his hand resting on a finely crafted sphere, with a table full of ornate cards in front of him. "Perhaps the owner was divinely gifted"Fig replied. Hazel decided, however, that there was nothing else to be found, while the professor studied the mural more closely. Slowly she walked over to the statue and surveyed everything in her path. There were an immense number of clay vases lying around here as well. Candlesticks could be seen, destroyed furniture made of almost completely rotten wood, and parts of stone busts. Arriving at the statue, she noticed that this seemed to be the same man as in the portrait. The resemblance was unmistakable, the same kind of robe, the same beard and - the most obvious - the crystal ball in his outstretched hand. However, this stature had not been recognizably labeled and likewise offered no clue to the former owner of this ruin. Since she could not find anything else, she slowly walked along the balcony corridor to the back, breathing in the fresh sea air, but shivering, her clothes were a mess of tears and dust, which became relatively damp from the foam. Along the way she stumbled a couple of times, scraping her knees while a falling rock cut her hand. "Damn it," she cursed softly, holding her handkerchief to the cut as she continued. This part here seemed to have once been a tower of some sort. The remaining space was circular, with nothing there except something that glowed just as strangely as the casket had what seemed like weeks ago, although it had only been a few hours. As she stepped closer, she realized that this looked similar to the ice they had to melt to get here. "I wonder what the crystal stone is blocking?" Hazel wondered in a whisper. The closer she got, the more this crystal spread until it took up the entire wall. Hazel flinched as an image of a hall formed within it and called Professor Fig over. This was clearly what they were looking for. "Well, what have we here... The stone is smooth as a mirror, extraordinary" Fig studied the stone, but didn't seem to see the reflection in it. "How... can there be a room behind it?" Hazel asked, and Fig stumbled. "A room? I only see us, in the stone. Do you see any kind of... point? Like with the casket?" he asked, and Hazel nodded. Gently she touched it and it dissolved, leaving only the bare stone wall. "Hmm," Fig let out and they both turned around at the same time, only to stop, startled. They were no longer in the Scottish ruin, no, they were in the room Hazel saw. And on a podium, sat a sleeping goblin....