Bacorium Legacy Read Online Free PDF

with a single companion.
    The night was due in an hour or two, and the villagers were too distracted with their celebrations to notice anything. His small number of belongings were packed away in a bag at his side.
    His books remained in the shelf in the hut, with the exception of the traveller's journal, which he had stuffed away in the bag. There was really only one other book he would have felt the need to take with him, but he knew that one by heart. And he wouldn't have wanted Arlea to see that one - it might hurt her to realise just what kind of person Luca was.
    They would depart under cover of darkness. Not a soul would witness them, and their absence would not be noticed until the next morning. Truly, the circumstances of their elopement could not have been more perfect. Still, Luca had his doubts.
    Something felt wrong.
    He frowned as he noticed Arlea approaching. She was dressed in travel clothes, as he was, and she carried a bag at her side, just as he did.
    “We're going?” she asked hopefully.
    Luca sighed. He needed to give her an answer. It was not a matter that could wait, and they would not get another chance like this to carry it out. He had no idea how his father would react should he find out, but he knew the elder would never permit Arlea to leave. She was only a few months short of marriageable age, and the village was shy of young women as it was. Perhaps that was why she wanted to leave so badly - she knew that Luca was her only chance of escaping a marriage with someone two decades her senior.
    Arlea watched him, expectantly awaiting his answer. He opened his mouth to tell her...
    And then he noticed something strange.
    The bonfire of the annual festival was very bright. Too bright. His hut was some distance from the village square. He shouldn't have been able to see the orange glow so well from where he was.
    “Luca, what is it?” Arlea asked.
    He stepped past her, not answering her question. Something was definitely wrong. The fire seemed to be growing brighter by the moment.
    Then he heard a dying scream and his blood ran cold.
    “What was that?!” Arlea exclaimed.
    “Stay here!” Luca shouted. He drew his short sword and took off at a run, leaving Arlea behind. Her confused questions carried in the wind behind him.
    It didn't take him long to reach the village square and see what was wrong.
    The village was under attack by men in black armour.
    The huts were on fire, the celebratory bonfire having been used as a weapon by the attacking people. Dying villagers were vanishing all around, leaving only blood and clothes behind as oblivion took them.
    It was a massacre. The feast was abandoned, several villagers were dying on the table, arrows sticking out of their backs. Other villagers ran in fear, men in armour pursuing them with swords raised. A woman screamed as she was cut down, crimson blood spilling out and staining the snow. A man cried out as a fireball incinerated him.
    It was a one-sided conflict. The villagers were helpless innocents - few of them even carried daggers, much less knew how to fight. The men in black armour moved without hesitation or emotion, carrying out the slaughter like machines.
    Luca quickly searched the few survivors for someone he knew. He saw no one. The village elder had been killed already - only his blood-stained robes remained. Lodin was nowhere in sight.
    Luca cried out as pain suddenly filled his leg.
    He looked down, and saw an arrow was stuck fast in his left thigh, only a few millimetres away from his knee. It hurt, but it was not very deep. He could still walk.
    He looked around and quickly found the archer. The armoured man stood at a distance, and was already in the process of firing a second. He released the string and the arrow flew towards Luca.
    He rolled out of the way, and the arrow missed him. With the first arrow still in his leg, he took off at a run, quickly closing the distance between himself and the archer. Between the breastplate