News

It was almost two weeks before Atrianna was able to slip away to the lake again. The scene was the same, except that the sun was setting behind her this time, not rising ahead of her. The low clouds and heavy fog that had enshrouded the valley for the past week had finally lifted, and the sky was clear, brightest orange fading into twilight blue. Half the lake was cast into deep, dusky shadows, giving the scene and ethereal feel. Somewhere across the lake, a lone songbird sang quietly. The beauty of the scene, the tranquility felt there, would have overwhelmed any other wanderer on the frozen surface of the lake. A magical calm seemed to have settled over the wooded sanctuary.

Atrianna hardly noticed.

Her mind was still reeling with disbelief. She couldn't believe the news she had heard, the horrific report just rehearsed to all of Dorset. She had left as soon as she was able, craving the calm of Widow's Lake. She trembled as she thought back to what she witnessed only moments ago.

One man. That's all there had been. One bloodied, dying man. He had appeared as if by some black magic, coming like an apparition out of the foggy fields. The early hour and his ghastly appearance caused great concern among the few villagers who were up; they rarely got visitors in Dorset, and none of them ever came with this much dismay. Soon the entire village was roused, a sense of alarm spreading. Dorset's only physician, Eedrah, had taken the man in at once.
Only once some of the blood and terror were washed from his face was he recognizable as a merchant from Idhrin, a small village nestled in the valley where the Grein'vad River met Widow's Lake. The merchant could barely speak, and yet he seemed determined, compelled even, to tell his tale. With many starts and stops, interspersed with coughing and near-fainting, the man related his story. He refused all nourishment until he was done speaking. The news this man brought from such a peaceful town turned Atrianna's world on end.

Idhrin was no more.

They had not been able to glean much information from the merchant before he collapsed, unconscious, in Eedrah's kitchen, but the scraps they heard disturbed them. An enraged mob of rebels invaded the village, slaughtering any who did not flee. Men, women, and children all fell victim to their drunken rage.The streets ran red with the blood of the innocent. Husbands pled on behalf of wives. Women begged on their knees for their children to be spared, only to fall where they knelt; the rebels showed no mercy. Their blood-lust eventually satiated, the men ransacked and looted every building before setting the town aflame. Arson, a word that previously had no real meaning, no connection for peaceful villagers, suddenly brought intense hatred and fear to the eyes of everyone hearing the merchant's tale. Few escaped the attack. The merchant himself escaped only because he had fled, watching the destruction of his home from a nearby hilltop.
"I will never forget," the man gasped, his breath short from pain. "I will never forget those men or what they have done. The people they murdered did nothing to deserve such cruelty." An oath of vengeance passed his lips, barely heard. Those gathered to listen to his tale knew the end was near for this brave man.

Soon after his oath had been uttered, the merchant collapsed. Atrianna had fled to the lake then, desperate for calm. Slaughter, arson, an entire village decimated. A shudder ripped through Atrianna as she ran. She shook her head, pressing the heels of her hands into her closed eyes, trying without effect to banish the horrid images from her mind.
Unable to run any further, Atrianna fell to her knees, the hard ice stinging her skin as she landed on the lake's frozen surface. Shock and grief overcame her. Tears streamed down her face as she mourned for all of Idhrin and wondered about her own future...