I shuddered, my legs trembling. Then they buckled, letting me collapse to the ground. The flames showed no sign of diminishing and the passers did not raise their hands to help. Who could survive a fire like this?
Coven was no fighter, just an appraiser and barkeeper. Even if he was higher levelled, even if his life force was stronger than mine, could he withstand those raging flames.
I tried to stand up. My hands trembled, too, as I started casting any spell relaxed to ice and water that I knew to stop the fire. Emptying out many of MP potions to kill the flames until nothing but charred remains remained. Party damp through the water and ice that was cast over the walls and floor, I walked into the building.
My steps came to a halt as I saw the charred corpse behind the counter. Clothes burned in the fire, any visible bodily convexions and concavations melted into a mass of burned flesh and skin. But the figure resembled Coven in height and build. No other signs of outer influence were found. He was dead.
Coven died alone, awaiting my return. His last moments made him go through unbearable pain, his figure twisted and maybe trying to get rid of the fire by rolling on the ground.
Parts of the ceiling and walls had collapsed inside the room, making a possible escape from the flames an impossible endeavor.
My sight wavered as my eyes got wetter and wetter. I kneeled down, not daring to touch him, while my fingers hovered over his corpse. Unwilling to believe that it was him. Not wanting to think that I would never hear him talk and laugh ever again. How should I carry on when I knew how warm his hug felt and how caring his caress as he patted my head? He filled my world with something I never felt in the real world or in this game before. Something that made me yearn to see him, tell him what I experienced, share time with him and cry if I broke down. I was assured he would gently build me up again, give me hope and courage and more strength to carry on. And now, he should be dead?
It cannot be! It was nothing but a sickening lie! But there was no trace of Coven except the body in front of me. No sign that somebody escaped the ruinous flames.
But somehow, deep inside of myself, I knew painfully clear that he could have escaped if there was no influence of another force. Clenching both my fists and teeth, I searched the building and the surroundings for any sign of any hint to the murderer of Coven. There must be one. How else could a house catch flames?
But the killer was thorough. Any footprints or visible signs were burned away by the fire. Nothing was left that could lead me to find the culprit.
The only thing that was clear was the high level of the murderer. Not anyone could ignite a house this fast without being found out.
It was either a high level NPC or a Player. I would have loved going around questioning anyone who had the resources to kill Coven if they had a hand in this, but it would just alert the culprit. And if they could burn a whole house, they could easily burn me to death.
But regardless of the price needed, I would find the possible suspects and through them, the murderer. I unclenched my fists and walked upstairs, to my room. On my way I erased the last flames in the ruins of the building and stepped into my room. And stopped. My chest was broken, sparkling drops of molten brass coins everywhere on the ground.
The murder wasn't random. Coven had no enemies. I was at fault. They targeted me and my possessions. I was the reason why Coven was murdered by the attackers. They wanted to rob me and he was in the way, trying to protect my possession and died in flames because he wanted to help me.
New tearstreams found their way in my dirty and sooty face. I felt cold and bitter. Why couldn't they just take my stuff and leave Coven alone? Why wasn't I at home to save him from this inferno?
My heart was hurting so much. Eyes itching from the tears, my breathing unstable, my sight clouded by the tears. It felt like the worst nightmare came true, haunting the waking world.
[...You are suffering from an impending heart attack. Head to a healer, doctor or priest to heal your condition.
Time until impending death trough heart attack: 29 min 58 sec]
The voice of the System seemed reluctant to deliver the news, as if it was sharing my pain over Coven's death, and didn't want to deliver any more bad news.
But I needed to find out what was stolen from my chest. It was the only feasible hint I had. Maybe I could track the culprit through this!
I walked to the broken chest and carefully opened it. The functions were only partly disabled and I instantly found out that anything of a little worth was taken. I assumed that the culprit could either identify more precious items or had the [Appraisal] skill at least in its lesser form.
My mind raced trying to get ideas how to find the murderer based on the items I would be searching for. Most of them were common items of high worth, both easily dropped or bought on the market. Only one or two would be rare enough that they weren't sold often. My beautiful magician's robe in red and a pair of boots with a temporary flying skill. But it would be hard to trace them, if I hadn't any clue where to start my search.
Even if they were sold on the trade center or to the magic tower (and any thief trying to do this would be pretty stupid, because both institutions had high level appraisers who could find out if the goods were stolen and would either report them or 'righteously' take the stolen goods.) I had no way to get into the position to view their storage or get insight in the files of the seller. So it was useless to try to research in that direction. My only option, which the killer might also prefer, would be the black market, controlled by the local underworld of Daystreak. It was not only a more realistic way to try finding suspects, but maybe my only way. I had no connections, no influence and power whatsoever. Not even mentioning money. A large part of my funds were in the chest. In coin and in items.
So I would have to start with anything I got from hunting the last in-game daysand maybe hunt a bit more. But at the moment I needed to head to the black market to find the seller of my stolen goods. To find any trace they might have left before it would be erased. The money for a borrowed knife, like a high level [Assassin], could be earned later. Maybe I would save up to book an extra service of torture and would enjoy watching Coven's murderer suffer.
This could be my only pleasure and inspiration. Because without Coven, the game seemed sinsterly dark and the skies lost their ever-beautiful bright.