By the forenoon of the second day, I crested a hill and beheld the land stretch before me all the way to the distant ocean. Nestled amidst rolling green hills, a sprawling city puffed thin trails of smoke into the sky, and beyond it, ships dotted the waters of the bay. My heart quickened at the sight of this foreign world—so different from the quiet life I had left behind.
Following directions I gathered from passing strangers, I made my way westward toward the hamlet of Blackwood. I passed through cobbled streets and well-tended farmlands, until I finally reached the old road that led to my destination. Along the way, I encountered a marching regiment of soldiers, their bright red coats and rhythmic drumbeat lifting my spirits. But as the road stretched on and the villages grew sparse, my excitement gave way to unease.
I began asking about Ravenstone Hall, the estate I had been instructed to visit. Each inquiry brought strange looks and vague answers. One old farmer muttered about "trouble" before hurrying off, while a woman clutching a basket of apples avoided my eyes altogether. At last, I stopped a gruff carter riding a weathered cart.
"Excuse me, sir," I called out. "Do you know the way to Ravenstone Hall?"
The carter halted and gave me a suspicious glance. "Aye," he said at last. "What business have you there?"
"I was told to deliver a letter to the master of the house," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
The man snorted. "A letter, eh? Well, it's none of my affair, but mark my words—ye'd best steer clear of that cursed place. Only trouble comes from Ravenstone Hall."
Before I could ask more, he flicked the reins, and his cart rattled away. My heart sank, and doubt clawed at my resolve. Still, I pressed on, determined to see the matter through.
As the sun dipped lower, I came across a stout woman trudging along a hill path. Her face was pinched and sour, but I stopped her and asked about the Hall. She paused, then turned sharply and motioned me to follow her. We climbed the hill together until she pointed to a shadowed valley below.
"There," she said, her voice low and bitter. "That's Ravenstone Hall. Blood built it, and blood shall tear it down. Tell the master that Maggie Grayson curses him and his kin for the thousandth time."
With that, she spat on the ground, cracked her knuckles, and stalked away, leaving me rooted in place. The Hall stood stark against the fading light—a great, crumbling structure surrounded by overgrown fields. No smoke rose from its chimneys, and its skeletal wings looked as if they had never been completed.
Despite my growing dread, I made my way down the hill. The closer I came, the more the Hall loomed, its barred windows and weathered stone defying the beauty of the countryside around it. At last, I reached the main gate: two weather-beaten posts connected by a sagging rope. I pushed past and followed a faint track to the front door.
The massive wooden door, studded with rusted iron, felt unwelcoming. I hesitated, then knocked firmly. Nothing stirred. I knocked again, harder this time, and strained to hear any sound. At last, a dry cough came from above, followed by a hoarse voice.
"Who's there?" it demanded.
Looking up, I saw a wiry figure leaning out of a high window. The man held a musket aimed squarely at me.
"I have a letter," I called, "addressed to Mr. Elias Thorne of Ravenstone Hall."
The man hesitated, then barked, "From whom?"
"That is for Mr. Thorne to know," I replied, anger rising in my chest.
The man squinted at me, then asked, "Who are ye?"
"I am Marcus Albright," I said boldly. "And I intend to deliver this letter as instructed."
The name seemed to strike him like a thunderclap. He muttered something under his breath, and I heard the musket clatter against the windowsill. After a long pause, his voice softened, but it carried a note of wariness.
"Is your father dead?"
The question took me aback. "Yes," I answered at last. "He passed some weeks ago."
"Aye," he murmured, "I thought as much. Well, come in, then." And with that, he disappeared from view.
I stood there, staring at the shadowy house, unsure whether to feel relief or fear. My journey had brought me to Ravenstone Hall, but what awaited me inside its walls remained a mystery.