Chapter 10: The Chaos of Crimsoneye Lodge

Leshac almost skipped out of the cell, such was his joy at his impending freedom from the Crimsoneye Lodge and its swiftly approaching doom.

-I know you are happy Lesh, but, can you stay careful?- Quil chastised him.

-Not a problem- he said.

The next moment, he became a dark furred mouse and scampered through the shadows.

-You know, it really is unfair how easily you shapeshift, you should apologise to all transformation mages everywhere- Quil joked.

-I’m sure I’d run out of breath-

There was a shudder and an outraged moo roared through the lodge, bits of the ceiling falling off in its wake.

-Well, now I’m really glad I stopped him from drinking that weird eye-juice- Leshac thought

-I don’t even want to think about what that would have been like- Quil mentally shuddered.

Leshac went further inside the lodge, passing by frenzied hunters without a single one noticing him.

As he did, jagged carvings of sinister eyes grew more and more common until the walls, floor and ceiling just looked like a mess of lines, more like some horrid beast had been dragging its claws through the halls of the lodge than the drawings of the cultists.

Leshac reached his objective.

Once, when Crimsoneye was still Shiverclaw, it had a treasure hold, where all manner of valuables were kept, though the Shiverclaw itself was rarely inside, as the hunters had to be able to see it to meditate before it.

The crimson eye had at first just been another treasure to the pile, a vaguely unsettling artefact. The treasury had become a chlanic shrine.

Leshac stopped in front of the shrine’s entrance, unease spread throughout his body.

-What’s wrong?- Quil asked.

-The doors are open, with what has been going on, they shouldn’t be. The shrine should be locked tight-

Leshac could not see past the doors, there was a kind of sullen fog obscuring his sight and it defied his magical senses too. Leshac was fairly sure that this was exactly the kind of situation that one should run away from, but then having nothing to do with the eye had been tossed out a long while ago.

He crept through the fog, he had confidence in his shapechanging and the obscuring qualities of his dark magic.

Coming out of the fog, he saw a floor strewn with brittle bones and a mount of such. On top of that mound rested the crimson eye.

However, before that, back turned to Leshac, was a figure.

-What! Why is the First Seeker here?-

The first seeker was an illusive figure, and one so regular and unassuming that Leshac had struggled to recognise him. If anyone saw him, they would describe him as a hunter, but struggle to give any details, apart from one thing. They would not even be able to say what kind of being he was.

A hunter that left a weak impression, well, all except for one thing.

“I must thank you”

Leshac froze in horror. The first seeker knew he was there.

“You’ve made it very easy for me, First, I’ll destroy this disgusting eye, then… well I’m glad you came, I’ll rid the world of your detestable existence”

The man slowly turned around. He was wearing a strange helmet, it had a kind of dish in the forehead, the rim of which had hooks.

A forgettable face that slipped from your mind as soon as you saw it, but staring out from the helmet was a pair of dead jaded eyes.

There was an almost oppressive bitterness coming from them.

Yet even with these eyes that would haunt many people, what was their colour? Nobody would be able to recall.

“It really is amusing that this place didn’t notice that two of its precious seekers were infiltrators”

He didn’t sound amused at all.

Leshac slowly backed away.

“Just who are you?”

The hunter stared through Leshac, then a half-hearted sneer tried to form on his face, but it was not to be. He could no longer take such actions.

“I was once named Quayr, now I am a bane of magic and they call me a killer of wonder”