The letter paper stretched thin as Valthar pulled its edges apart, sadly this was at least rank one paper.
Strong enough that Valthar couldn't tear it to pieces while suppressed by the Church's magical chains.
'I should have expected it. Who would trust a banished man? Who wouldn't care about traveling with a dark mage?'
A bitter taste filled his mouth, it finally dawned on him that people from the caravan were the ones to rat him out.
He felt stupid, like a naive child caught in the family's treasury that believed the family guards wouldn't tattle to the family elders.
'No wonder they knew where my room was.'
Though he couldn't shred the letter he crumpled it and threw it to the corner of the marble cell.
He refused to believe for even a moment that the caravan members had acted behind Lionel's back.
If the merchant had truly intended for them to meet tomorrow Valthar wouldn't be locked in this white cell.
To blindly trust the merchant's friendly words once was a naive mistake, one that now could very well cost his life.
To then take this paper to Deep Bonfire? And deliver it to someone who probably is part of the family that controlled the city?
Hell no! Valthar wouldn't dare to do so.
If he did go to the city and looked for this Salazar fellow, he would make sure nobody ever knew it was Lionel who recommended him.
Actually…
'Should I even go to this city?'
On one hand Amber had given him a brief run down of the important info about the place.
It had a lot of magical resources and was one of the richest cities in the Outlands.
It had a lot of adventurers and a constant need for healers, the type of mage Valthar intended to become.
Plus he knew the name of at least one contact from the family that ran the city.
On the other hand, aside from maybe Hector and Amber he would rather never see anyone from the caravan ever again and from their talks they seemed to be in Deep Bonfire quite frequently.
Also with crippled mana veins and an energy ring made of life force Valthar did not know if he could use any of the normal magical resources.
'If not there where would I go then? Stay here?' He shook his head, he already had caught the attention of the Church here.
Even if they normally don't bother with someone 'purified', once Valthar starts to use magic without mana veins they would hunt him down for sure.
"I'm too ahead of myself." he admonished himself.
Valthar wasn't even sure if his life energy ring would be affected by the process.
In theory it should remain intact… after all the ring was forming out of life energy and if the 'purification' of mana veins also burned life energy the survival rate would be closer to zero instead of fifty percent.
Even then his mind continued to spin with possible solutions.
'Should I crawl back home?' He frowned at such a thought.
It should be possible since the banishment mark would be destroyed together with his mana veins.
Still Valthar hated the idea.
He was banished for not having an elemental affinity and at the time it sounded fair.
Yet the more he thought the more he felt… hurt.
Not enraged, not betrayed, just hurt.
He had been raised as a Manaborn and would have gladly worked his whole life for the family.
Only for them to turn in a single day.
To treat him like a hound discarded at the bottom of a well because it wasn't strong or athletic enough.
In the end here he was, on a distant land, locked up by the Church and about to be magically crippled or killed at any moment.
The only silver lining was that now he knew there was only one person truly on his side.
Caelor, his cousin by blood and brother by heart.
A thought of despair sprouted in Valthar's mind.
This might be his end.
Burned to death by the Church.
Unlucky to encounter demonic influence before he even got to his destination.
Gone forever because he was naive and thought others thinking he was a dark mage wouldn't matter.
And in the end a week for now it all wouldn't matter.
More than a decade of magical study turned to dust in a month.
In his chest Valthar's heart throbbed erratically.
Water gathered at the corner of his eyes.
His voice shook as a whisper crawled out of his lips.
"I hope one day we can see each other again Caelor."
There was nobody there to answer his words.
*
Days go by inside the marble cell.
The first goes by in a daze with Valthar curled at the corner of the cell.
In the other days he barely moved as his attention dived into the life energy sense.
A tormented attempt to push away the growing desperation in his heart.
A desperation the other people chained in the dungeon seemed to echo through their lights.
The Church of Burning Light showed no pity to Valthar and others.
Throughout the whole time they served no food or water.
The survival of the prisoners fully depended on a single low quality fasting potion they gave out once a day.
So little nutrition and energy was provided that Valthar's energy ring had stagnated in its formation.
Even as he tried his best to absorb the mana in the air, the suppressing chains that tied him to the wall made his efforts useless.
His only distraction was to watch as the emotions and intentions from the priests shifted with time.
It was four days into the confinement that a sudden change pulled Valthar's attention.
Outside the dungeon, someone had entered the Church.
In a moment the dozens of priests had their lights echo with admiration.
Slowly this person starts to approach the dungeon.
In shock Valthar eyes lock onto the white floor.
There had been no announcement, yet something seemed to whisper in his ear.
Today was the day he would be 'purified.'
Be that his end or a new crippled beginning.