He took quiet footsteps down the steps. The air around him was dark and there was this eerie feeling to it. He had on him a black cloak which covered his entire body frame, including his face.
He got to the bottom of the stairway and from somewhere within that heavy, thick, black cloak, he took out a rusted iron key. It was just one key. One key that couldn't be considered remarkable in any respects whatsoever.
The door in front of him was brown, old, wooden, quite crooked and looked very heavy. In the keyhole, he inserted the key and turned it. It didn't open instantly. It took some moments of trial to open the door.
He pushed the door open with an accompanying creaking noise and air heavy with dust, was released.
He didn't bother waving his hands at the dust or anything. He stood there and waited for the dust to dissipate. He then raised his hand and chanted in a foreign language.
Another door magically appeared in front of him. It looked like the newer version of the first door. It was still brown, but it was neat.
The door opened and he walked through it. The room inside was still just as dreary as the stairway. The only difference being the lighting in the room.
There was a fireplace in the room. Tables filled with many herbs and shrubs and plants. Many shelves having books in them. And many cabinets containing numerous potions and pills.
There in front of the fireplace was a rocking chair. Someone was seated on it as it rocked forward and backwards. The back of that person was a dark shade as the person's face was illuminated by the light of the fire.
The man walked to the chair and knelt on one knee.
"I have come." He spoke and the voice that came out of his throat was hoarse. He pulled his hood away, and a terribly scarred face was revealed. He might have been handsome, but the three long scars drawn across his right eye and left cheek, ultimately ruined his appearance.
"What do you have for me?" The person on the rocking chair spoke and from the voice, one could tell that it was a woman.
The woman on the chair was severely obese. She had thick red pimples on her face. And her double chin was greatly overlapped. Her hair was scattered, scanty and short. And probably to improve her appearance, her lips were painted a bright red.
"A few days ago," The man began getting straight to the point. "The Royal Infirmary was heavily guarded and noone was allowed to leave or go in. The place had been put under a spell and I couldn't sense any fluctuations in magic... Until something tremendous happened." He said and his eyes shone with a bright light. He paused and swallowed. "While I was about to leave, there was suddenly a fluctuation in the infirmary. A strong surge of a negative emotion. What I sensed was... anger. It was very faint, but even at a distance, my blood turned cold. The concealing magic used in the Royal Infirmary was at the highest of levels. Only someone very powerful could rupture it. And only someone very powerful can be guarded so well. It can only mean that it was him. The question is, how could he have gotten that angry? For millenniums, he hasn't expressed any emotions asides the displeasure he feels for humans."
"As he grows stronger, he becomes more unpredictable." The woman said.
"What do we do?"
The rocking stopped. The woman turned her face to him and he quickly bowed his head. He was not allowed to look her in the eye. It was a sin.
"Bring to me the Recall." She said.
"But queen mother, that potion is very valuable. We shouldn't waste it on such..." The man argued.
"Do you dare to disobey my orders?" She asked in a high pitched voice. One high enough to break glass, but since all the potion bottles were made of special materials, they didn't even crack.
The man felt his ears bleed.
He kowtowed.
"Forgive me." He said and stood up.
On the far end of the room was a red cabinet. It wasn't like all the other cabinets. It was in an inconspicuous area and could only be opened with a spell.
He walked to it and chanted. The doors shook as if trying to resist. His voice grew louder and soon the doors opened.
He saw inside it very few potions with the most unique colors and bottles. They were fifth tier potions. And many things could be done with them. Even the redwood of the cabinet, when burned, produced a gas that was suitable for healing chronic respiratory diseases.
Each potion had extreme capabilities, and for dirty old rats like them, they were treasures that were worth a thousand lives.
He took out a kerchief and carefully picked a small bottle the size of a piece of chalk, with a bright blue liquid in it.
The bottle too showed some resistance, and it took him a while and some effort to successfully pull the bottle out.
He walked to the obese woman and handed it to her. She too, like him, handled it with care.
"Tell me everything as you remember. What happened before he got angry? Think very carefully."
The man sat still for nearly 15 minutes, contemplating. After much thought, he began the narrative.
"There wasn't really any significant difference in the atmosphere. It was the same. I really couldn't feel, hear or see anything. But it seems, someone left the Royal Infirmary at a point in time. The guards at the entrance seemed to have received some instruction, as they became much fiercer and their aura became sharper. That is so far all I can remember." He said.
"There are very few people who would be able to leave when such happened. Could it be Lorenzo? Why would he leave at such a time? What was so urgent?" The woman seemed to be talking to herself, when in reality, she was talking to the man.
The man, who thought it was a typical rhetorical question didn't reply.
The woman went on further.
"Could whatever he had been looking for be of importance to him? If it was, then what was it?" She sat down deep in thought for a long time, but she still couldn't figure it out. It wasn't forthcoming. There was no logical explanation.
It could have been some new plant to cure him. But why would he get angry immediately after getting cured? Asides his mother, there was noone in the whole of Aysha who could tamper with his emotions and for most part, he didn't seem to even have emotions. Why the anger, after so many years? It was simply too... absurd.
She looked at the bottle in her palm. If she risked it, she might get an explanation, but she didn't know if that fool would be able to perform the task seamlessly.
This bottle of Recall was very priceless and lives had been sacrificed for it. If she sacrificed it for something as unreliable and fiddly as this, wouldn't it be a waste of resources?
No, she had to keep it. Who knows? There might be better opportunities in the future that would require the Recall. Exposing one flaw led to exposing another. He might have been completely inexplicable and untouchable for a long time, but this time it wasn't so. Finally, they had grabbed hold onto something and a trail had been left behind.
To her, the trek had only just begun and she had to remain patient and try not to be too hasty.
There was no way he would escape her clutches this time.
She sneered as she thought about it.