Snippet #2488411

Cedric whistled to himself as he walked out of the church's grounds and out into the town. He had returned to his room in order to fetch his bag and cloak. While the church was nice, there was only so much of it to see. He also wanted to get a good look to at the town before he set off to Ferox, for he would likely visit more towns like this on the way.

It was a nice little town, but not very exciting. There were various townspeople going back and forth about their work, a few street merchants, dopey-looking guards, bearing lances with loose spearheads, who looked like they couldn't even guard a corpse. If Plegia made its move before Ylisse did, this town would be annexed almost instantly. With any luck, that would be when Cedric was on the other side of the continent.

As he walked down a narrow alleyway he stumbled on something and almost fell. He turned to see what it was, and saw a book lying on the ground, covered in dry, sandy dirt. Cedric picked up the book and wiped off the dirt with his sleeve; apart from the slight bending of a few pages thanks to Cedric, the book was in otherwise mint condition. It was a hardback with a beautiful, amethyst purple binding, but what was most surprising about the book was the Mark of Grima that was emblazoned onto its cover. It didn't take long for the pieces to fall into place it Cedric's mind; this was a copy of Grima's Truth! Why would such a valuable and dangerous tome be doing lying on the cobbles in some Ylissean village? He opened the book and leafed through it, and could feel the power to level mountains surging through him. This was more power than he could control, but it intrigued him. It couldn't hurt to give it a test run, could it?

Yes, it could. Cedric was slumped down on all fours with sweat pouring down his forehead in torrents. Every breath he took set his lungs on fire, but he needed air more than anything else. However, it hadn't been a complete failure. He had managed to cast Grima's Truth, and he had reduced a few square metres before him to rubble. Seconds ago there had been trees and grass there, now there was only dust. Had he not gone off into the countryside to try it, he'd be on the wrong end of a pitchfork, providing anyone had been brave or mad enough to approach him after he'd cast the spell. He looked at the settling dust before him, but he could tell that wasn't even half of what the tome could do. He was capable of committing countless spells to memory and casting them at full force, but drawing only a fraction of this tome's power had brought him to his knees. He slumped down for a while in order to regain enough oxygen to breathe.

Cedric trudged back to the church in early evening, only looking slightly better now than he had right after he'd cast the spell. He slunk in through an entrance around the back so that he didn't disturb any ceremonies that might be going on. He returned to his room, cast off his cloak and bag and slumped into the chair at the desk. He decided that he'd go straight to bed after supper, and since he didn't anyone going through his bag again, especially now that it contained a copy of Grima's Truth, he tore a piece of paper from his notebook, wrote "NO" on it and laid it on top of his satchel. He could also do with a wash before he went back out, so he removed his clothes and once again performed the cleaning hex. For good measure, he also wiped some salt and water over his torso and performed the hex on himself. He hurriedly dressed again lest anyone see his mark, and left the room to see if he could find Lexi; she'd know when there'd be an evening meal.