His mind reeled with shock and anger as he stood there, frozen.
Then, his gaze shifted upwards to the village head's house:
Almost half of the structure still stood, albeit barely:
* Walls cracked and blackened
* No rooftop above, only open sky
* Windows shattered, frames hanging loosely
Mark steeled himself and stepped inside, his twisted tree-like arm ready for any danger.
The interior was dimly lit, only sunlight from above illuminating the devastation:
Debris scattered everywhere, furniture overturned and blood flash everywhere...
Mark noticed something unusual - a piece of paper on the floor, near the village head's desk.
Mark's single eye widened as he picked up the paper, his mind racing with alarm.
The parchment was worn and bloodstained, but the handwriting was chillingly legible:
A list of names, scribbled hastily:
* Galen Blackwood, murderer from Elyria's Blackgate Prison
* Ryker Slade, thief from Elyria's Ironhaven Dungeon
* Victor Vex, assassin from Elyria's Crimson Reformatory
*...
* And at the very bottom:
**Mark, prisoner 7421, convicted of treason against the Kingdom of Elyria**
His twisted tree-like arm clenched the paper tightly, as if crushing the words themselves.
"What connection does this list have with me being sacrificed... here?" Mark whispered aloud, horror creeping up his spine.
He felt like he was staring at his own death sentence, tied to his past crimes in Elyria.
Mark's gaze dropped to the floor, searching for more clues, and found:
* A torn page from a village record book
* A fragment of a letter with the royal seal of Elyria
Mark's single eye scanned the village head's desk drawers, uncovering a yellowed letter sealed with:
* The royal crest of Elyria
* Wax embossed with King Malakar's personal sigil
He broke the seal, and a faint scent of lavender wafted out.
Mark's twisted tree-like arm trembled slightly as he unfolded the parchment:
**Royal Decree**
**Eyes Only: Brindlemark Village Elder**
From the Desk of His Majesty, King Malakar of Elyria
"To ensure uninterrupted trade and increased prosperity for our kingdom,
we have negotiated a pact with the mysterious Order.
In exchange, they demand a regular tribute of convicted souls.
We have selected prisoner 7421, Mark, convicted of treason,
to be the inaugural offering of this pact.
His... unusual background, shared with the recently summoned heroes,
makes discretion paramount.
Ensure his sacrifice is conducted silently,
without alerting his former companions -
the Heroes of the Realm.
Arrange for his demise to appear accidental:
a prison escape gone wrong,
or a tragic incident during hard labor.
The other heroes must not suspect our pact with the Order.
By the King's own hand,
Malakar"
Mark's eyes widened in outrage and betrayal:
His own king wanted him dead, silently erased from existence.
Mark's twisted tree-like arm clenched into a fist as he held the letter, his single eye blazing with fury.
He raised his hand, and flames erupted from his fingers, engulfing the parchment.
The letter crackled and burned to ashes, symbolizing Mark's defiance against King Malakar's betrayal.
Then suddenly he heard a coughing sound, as he look, Mark's eyes locked onto the bloody figure, and he rushed towards them, his twisted tree-like arm trembling with concern.
The figure's eyes snapped towards Mark, and their expression contorted in shock.
Then, a horrible, maniacal laughter erupted from their lips:
"I see... so you survived and became a monster...
You came for revenge?"
The laughter escalated, sending chills down Mark's spine, before the figure suddenly doubled over, coughing up a gush of blood.
Mark's voice was barely above a whisper, horror creeping into his tone:
"Why?"
The bloody figure chuckled, coughing again, before continuing in a chillingly calm voice:
"Of course, to survive...
Do you think this dry village would survive on its own without our... assistance?"
They paused, laughter bubbling up again:
"And sacrificing criminals is merely... collateral damage
to make our world peaceful."
Mark's eyes widened in horror as the figure's laughter echoed through the desolate village, blood still streaming from their mouth and wounds.
The figure's voice was barely audible over their maniacal laughter:
"By the way... to make your... 'work' interesting...
The King ordered me to... 'repurpose' your... unique abilities...
And dispose of you in the process...
But seems like I... failed... hahahahahaha!"
Their body shook violently with laughter, blood spraying from their lips as they doubled over, yet still managed to choke out:
"You've become... more entertaining than expected..."
The figure's evil smile froze for a moment, eyes still locked onto Mark's, as a wooden spike suddenly peirce to his chest.
The spike had shot out from Mark's twisted tree-like arm, impaling the figure.
Blood spurted from the wound as the figure's body crumpled to the ground, their maniacal laughter silenced forever.
Mark's eyes blazed with intense anger, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he stared down at the lifeless body, his arm still trembling with residual fury.
But as the last ember died out, a gentle voice whispered in his mind:
"Mark..."
His rage faltered, replaced by a deep longing.
"Hana..." Mark whispered aloud, his voice barely audible.
He wanted to see her, talk to her, feel her presence again.
Before leaving the ruined house, Mark's gaze fell upon a dusty corner:
A yellowed map, partially torn, caught his attention.
He picked it up, smoothing out the creases:
The map appeared to be a layout of Elyria's territories, with several locations marked:
* Brindlemark Village (where he stood)
* Oakwood Forest
* Elyria's King Castle (King Malakar's seat of power)
* A mountain range with a cave location marked
Mark's single eye narrowed as he recognized the cave:
The same cave where he was chained and sacrificed to the Dryad.
Bitter memories flooded his mind: the darkness, the pain, the betrayal.
But Hana's gentle voice in his head remained his focus.
Mark folded the map and tucked it into his cloak.
With renewed determination, he began to walk away from the village, towards the unknown.
His thoughts were filled with questions:
Will Hana be safe?
Can he trust the other heroes?
How will he confront King Malakar?
Mark swiftly gathered essential items from the ruined village:
* A water skin from a destroyed well house
* Dried meat from a abandoned smokehouse
* A sturdy rope from a collapsed barn
With his supplies in hand, Mark felt a hint of readiness to face the journey ahead.
Just as he was about to head towards Elyria's King Castle, he heard a chilling sound echoing through the air:
The haunting howls of wolves.
Mark's gaze turned towards the noise - the wolves were distant, in the opposite direction of his path.
He decided to avoid the main road to the castle, opting instead to travel through:
Oakwood Forest
A quieter, more secluded route – one that would keep him out of curious eyes.
Mark walked briskly through the Oakwood Forest, his senses heightened as he navigated through the dense foliage.
The trees towered above him, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.
He followed a narrow game trail, his footsteps quiet on the soft earth.
As he walked, Mark's mind turned to Hana – wondering if she was safe, and if she'd be happy to see him again.
The forest was eerily silent, except for the distant howling of wolves – a reminder of the dangers lurking outside his current solitude.
Suddenly, Mark heard a gentle babbling sound ahead – a stream running through the forest.
Mark followed the gentle babbling sound and soon found himself standing beside a crystal-clear stream:
* Water flowed smoothly over rounded rocks
* Sunlight filtered through trees, casting dappled shadows
* A serene atmosphere, perfect for rest...
But his tranquility was short-lived.
Near the stream's edge, Mark noticed a slime-like creature consuming something unidentifiable.
His single eye narrowed, curiosity mixed with caution.
Suddenly, the slime began to shift and contort – its body elongating into a serpent-like form.
A snake head emerged, jaws open wide...
Mark barely dodged to the side, but not quickly enough –
The acid splashed onto his cheeks.
He felt intense burning pain instantly.
"Acid!" Mark hissed, already knowing the substance's deadly nature.
His skin was already starting to blister and burn.