They were gone. Where the camp had been was an empty battlefield. The grass was trampled down, there were a couple burn marks here and there, arrows were lodged in the trees and blood was spilt in various places. Another squad must’ve come by and attacked. After I got over my shock, I searched the perimeter but couldn’t find any bodies, so I assumed my team either escaped or were captured. The latter is unlikely because points aren’t awarded for prisoners.
Then I knew what I had to do. I needed to find some relics, bring them to the edge of the forest, and there await the arrival of squad six. It was risky, but I didn’t know where they were headed, and even if I did, bringing the relics to them would put them in danger. My team had to win. I was separated from them anyways, so I had nothing to lose if I failed. Determined to succeed, I squared my shoulders and headed into the dark woods.
The going was rough. I didn’t have any supplies but the sword at my hip and the shirt on my back. For the first couple of hours that morning, I hiked up steep, rocky slants, pushing through bushes thick with thorns. I finally stopped on an overhang in the middle of a small cliff for a break about midday. A tiny waterfall trickled downwards in which I cooled my head and quenched my thirst. The water might not have been very sanitary, but I was too parched to care.
Once I was refreshed, I continued along my way. I was thankful that we survivalists had learned how to tell direction using the sun or stars at an early age. If I had learned it more recently, I probably would have had trouble remembering how it’s done, making it harder to go on my way. As I headed along my path, the woods seemed to grow darker and I became more cautious. The birds’ singing faded into the distance and the merry brook I had been traveling alongside turned away.
Eventually, as time wore on, some dark clouds moved over the sun and thunder boomed over the hills. Must be that stom me and Josh saw this morning, I thought, and it’s finally breaking loose. I quickened my pace and as I did so I began searching for a place to sit out the storm. The clouds broke open so quickly and it rained so hard all of a sudden that I was soaked within seconds.
Then I saw it - the perfect place to keep dry. As I climbed my way up the big, cracked up steps, the old mansion loomed high above me; a silent threat. The cone-shaped tips of the towers, the roof shingles, the window and door frames, and the balconies were all a deep, worn purple. The windows were cracked and the wind rattled what were once shutters.
Wait a second, what’s an old mansion like this doing out in the middle of the Black Forest? I hesitated in front of the door a second, looking up at the place in doubt. I’m sure it’s nothing, I thought, shaking off the feeling. But I didn’t go in the front door anyways. Creeping over to the side of the house, I stood on my tiptoes -and with some difficulty- climbed inside.
The air was so musty I could barely breathe. There was so much dust and cobwebs I could barely see, but it appeared I was in the drawing room. White sheets covered some lumpy mounds which I assumed were probably what was left of old furniture. There were also a few strange paintings hanging on the walls, but I couldn’t tell what they were of.
Lightning flashed outside and the wind howled through the window. I sat huddling my knees waiting for the storm to be over. I rested my head against my knees and thought about the troubles I had had so far. I almost missed my team members - yes, even June. Once again, I thought about what a strange coincidence it was that a random mansion popped up in the middle of the forest, but before I could give it anymore thought, I dropped off in sleep.
ns 15.158.61.41da2
