by Kyle J Cisco
“Okay, good job, scouts. Now fall in and take rear guard as we move through the village. Keep your crossbows in hand; we don’t yet know for sure what caused this and may need to fight anything that may have been left behind.”
The palisade wall that encompassed the village had been almost entirely burnt to the ground. The gatehouse was kept intact but the outside face was blackened and charred.
“Now we enter through the black gate. How fitting for a place touched by such evil,” Jack said.
The farther into the interior of the village they walked, the colder the chill grew. Despite the fact that the buildings were still smoldering, they gave off no heat.
“Have you ever seen anything like this, Rex? Something touched with so much evil that even smoldering embers give off no heat?”
“Not for a long time. The last time something of this nature happened was during the War of Darkness.”
“Mother of Light! Will you ever tell me the entire story behind any of your lessons from the past?”
“Sure, here’s one. Anger takes away from one’s connection to the Light. Answers will come in time, Virgil. Until then, you must trust my judgement and remain patient.”
7
The group moved through the streets of the abandoned village with caution while they investigated the houses that still stood intact. The party had yet to find any bodies, only trails of blood where families had been slaughtered. But by what or whom, the group was still unsure.
Stepping into one of the larger structures within the village, they saw their first bodies. Like a broken doll, a woman lay at an angle, her spine completely removed from her body. A small child with his head crushed and a man clutching a sword slumped on the ground nearby. Virgil used his foot to lift the man’s face up, and what he had feared was true. It was the man that the specter had impersonated to get into the fortress. A chill ran down his neck as he thought of the deception that had fooled him so entirely. He silently cursed his impetuous hunt for justice, for if he had not been so willing to help the man, he could have realized the deception.
“Clear out of here. We have more to investigate and we must reach the village center soon,” Rex said.
Continuing the steady pace, they made their way toward the center of the village where there would be a church of Light and the administration building for the village. Looking around the corner, Virgil saw a shadow move. He turned and used the signals he had been taught by the Order to relay the information to Natasha and Popavich who readied their weapons along with the rest of the group. Virgil moved into the open with his ax gripped tight, determined to take his revenge on whatever was left here for them to face. Standing without moving under the Statue of the Mother of Light, a hooded figure turned to face the incoming party.
“It was foretold you would be here, son of Novak,” the figure croaked.
Virgil moved closer, ready to make the first strike. “What are you, creature?”
“The shadow from your dreams. For we have been sent to finish what the Faceless One could not.” It drew a rusted broadsword from a sheath beneath its cloak. “Are you ready to die this day? Or do you still think the Light can save you mortals?”
The specter leapt from the foot of the statue, thrusting a vicious slash at Virgil. He easily parried it and swung his ax down to cleave the figure’s side. Virgil’s rage boiled as he pressed the attack, swinging ferociously with his ax.
Around him the others stood in shock as they saw people coming into view holding all kinds of weapons—swords, pitchforks, clubs, and axes—fresh wounds still blistering their bodies. They looked as if they wore scarves of rusty red from the dried blood that poured hours before from slit necks.
“They have come to help us—the villagers are alive!” one of the soldiers said.
“Stay away from them,” Natasha yelled, but it was too late. The mob of villagers struck the man down.
Rex and Jack fell to the back of the formation, letting the others head into the fray. Jack turned to where Virgil was still locked in combat with the specter, but before he could get there, another shadow stepped out from one of the charred buildings.
“Chaplain Rex, I presume. We were told that we would find you here. Your time has come, old man.” This figure drew out two weapons, one being a weathered broadsword and the other an ornate mace.
“That weapon does not belong to you, demon,” Rex said.
“Ah, you do recognize it. Was he a friend of yours?”
“It does not matter,” Rex said, hefting his war-hammer. “I shall avenge you, Xavier!”
Rex charged headlong at the specter. Letting momentum do most of the work, Rex danced with the war hammer as if it were an extension of his body. The specter fell back under the onslaught until it reached out with a flash and caught the hammer on the handle.
“You believe your pathetic hammer will be enough to beat me, old man?” it sneered.
Yanking out of the specter’s grasp, Rex stumbled back. Jack took that moment to step into the combat, swinging his great sword in one hand and his broadsword in the other. The weight of the great sword made his blows with it slower, but Jack was practiced in making both of his swords coordinate with each other as he fought.
Virgil took a hit on the shoulder pad and stumbled back, lanced with pain as the wound he still nursed on that shoulder screamed in protest. But he was not out of the fight. Virgil dodged a deadly overhand blow and swung low with his weapon. The specter jumped and delivered a hard kick Virgil’s face, splitting his cheek wide open.
Blood rushed down his face, and his anger burned. Virgil rose from the blow and struck out, thrusting the handle of his ax into the hood. The specter screeched in pain while Virgil lunged and threw a flurry of blows.
The specter released a cloud of black energy that spread like fog, making it impossible to see. Suddenly, the creature leaped out of the shadow with a slash aimed at Virgil’s head. Virgil caught the strike upon his ax handle, but the handle snapped in two, and the blade thudded to the ground. Improvising in a split second, Virgil drove the splintered end of the handle into the specter’s thigh area and kicked him in the face. Then he drew his dagger and continued to fend off the assault.
Rex caught a deadly blow aimed at his midsection on the handle of his war hammer. Drawing on his connection to the Light, he flashed a beam of light at the thing but the specter caught the beam on his mace and redirected it back at Rex. It caught him squarely in the chest, throwing him to the ground with steam coming from the area of his chest plate where it had struck.
Jack dashed in between the specter and Rex. He brought his great sword in a looping arch toward the hood of the specter while bringing the broadsword down low to cut into the midsection. Ducking the strike from the great sword, the other blow was parried into the dirt.
The specter dropped one if its blades but caught Jack by the throat, squeezing with an unnatural force. Losing air, Jack drove his broadsword into its midsection. But there was not even a wince in the death grip around his windpipe. Jack looked as if he were going to lose consciousness soon, but he managed a savage kick. There was a screech of pain and the mace fell from the specter’s hand.
The specter dropped Jack to the ground, where he gasped for every breath of air he could manage. Rex snatched up his mace and the specter’s and swung away at his foe, forcing it back away from Jack who still gasped for air.
Its voice rang out, overwhelming the sounds of battle. “You dare to match my skill, chaplain? My years of experience outweigh yours by centuries. Submit and I shall make your end quick.”
“I won’t make it that easy for you, abomination. I have been fighting against the Darkness my entire life. I won’t abandon the Light now.”
Rex threw back his head and raised his arms in defiance. Light shone down from above, engulfing the two maces in white light. Rex struck out, connecting with both of his strikes, and the specter fell to its knees.
Jack ran forward, prepared to hack off
the cloaked figure’s head, but as he got close, the specter rose. It smashed into Jack, driving an old rusted dagger deep into the gap of the armor on Jack’s hip. Jack shoved the shadow from him and ran it through with his sword. Upon hitting the ground, the clothes went limp, the body gone.
Meanwhile Virgil still fought his specter. Virgil ducked and threw a dagger, striking the foe in the chest. The specter ripped the knife out and flung it back, nicking the side of Virgil’s head. Dropping to the ground, he crawled, desperate to reach a fallen sword nearby. But a foot crushed his back, stopping him in place. Turning over and grabbing the foot in both hands, he tried with all the strength he could muster to try and throw his enemy, but it was no use.
The sinking feeling of cold that he had grown throughout the journey chilled his bones as the specter leaned over him and grabbed Virgil with one hand and lifted his face close to his. He began to inhale, and Virgil felt the life leaving his body slowly, as if the specter wanted panic to set in before he would suck the last drops of life from Virgil’s body. A bolt ripped through the front of the figure’s cloak, but it continued to devour Virgil’s life undeterred.
Jack shrieked a savage battle cry and tackled the specter. Virgil started to regain his strength as Jack wrestled with the enemy. Virgil gathered what breath he could, picked up the fallen sword, and drove it deep into the hood of the specter. The cloak crumpled to the ground, empty.
Caught up in his duel with the specter, Virgil forgot about the bigger battle at hand. Virgil picked up his ax from the ground and hurried into the fray against the shambling horde of undead thralls that fought against the rest of the group. To his surprise, the line of four armored brothers and two rangers had held off well against the increasing number of foes. But the enemy began to surround the group. One of the brothers was struck in the neck with a farming scythe. Gurgling on his blood, he grasped his neck, trying to stem the river of blood that poured out.
As he fell, Natasha drew her daggers to plug the gap in their makeshift line they had formed. Meanwhile, more resurrected villagers began to emerge from the charred houses and crowd the line the party members had formed.
“Nice of you to join us. Having fun over there?” Natasha said with a half-smile to Virgil as he drove his battle-ax into the head of undead villager about to flank Natasha.
“We need to fall back,” Virgil said.
“No,” Rex said. “Let us send them to peace in a burst of light.”
Rex stepped forward and raised both maces into the air.
“May the Light consume you, drive this evil from you, and deliver you to peace.”
A ray of light brighter than the one that had incinerated the Faceless One burst from the sky, sweeping over at least half of the enemies before them, leaving only smoking piles of ash and weapons in its wake.
Virgil stood amazed at the incredible display of power he had just witnessed. He thought of the possibilities he could achieve once he was able to control the Light within him. Rex fell to the ground with exhaustion, fresh wrinkles engraved on his elderly face.
“Rex, your face—what—” Virgil said.
“The cost of using such power can be grave,” Rex replied. “Others may not have noticed, but I can tell that you too have been in contact with such power. When you fought the specter in the cavern. You have been concealing from me the flecks of gray in your hair.”
Virgil swallowed hard. “I apologize, chaplain, I did not know you were still so perceptive.”
“I may look old, young Virgil, but my looks belie my years,” said Rex. “As you of all people should know.”
After the assault of Light ended, the three armored brothers drove back the force of corpses until they turned and ran toward the other end of the village. Noticing the red streaks of blood coming from Jack’s hip, Virgil waved off the pursuit of the enemy and instead ordered Popavich to cover the street.
“Jack, come take a seat. Let me look at that hip of yours. Seems you’ve taken a good hit there,” Virgil said.
“If you must, but I can assure you I will be fine to continue this mission. Just stuff some cloth in there. Let’s get the bleeding stopped and go hunt down those rats,” Jack said.
“Don’t be a stubborn ass. You won’t make it with the amount of blood you’re losing.”
Virgil inspected the wound and found the issue. The tip of the rusted blade that had been driven into Jack was lodged deep into his friend’s hip. He set to work trying to use a healing trance he had learned from Rex once when Virgil had taken a nasty wound in the training yard. He set his hands on the wound and began to speak the words of Light.
“May the Light heal this wound and protect thee from infection, stop the bleeding, and seal it shut,” Virgil said as he inspected the wound.
Nothing happened. Blood still flowed from the wound.
“Let me take over, Virgil; this is not time for practice.”
Rex came up to Jack and did the same process. But the wound stopped bleeding in an instant.
“Now I can’t remove the piece of dagger right now, but the wound will at least be closed. You will still have pain, but you will live,” Rex said as he wrapped the wound in cloth.
“As long as I am back in the fight. I’ll be fine for now. Thank you, chaplain.”
Virgil turned to the rest of the men and laid out the next steps in the plan of the investigation. “Everyone, gear up. If you need new weapons, find them. We need to pursue the villagers that fled and see where they have taken up refuge. We’ll follow the blood trail they were nice enough to leave us.”
“Virgil, I think that might be a bit rash. We have more that we must investigate here. We must be patient and complete the task at hand,” Rex said.
“Evidence will be here when we return, but can we let this foe flee? Risk death on another village that borders these woods?” said Virgil.
“I do not think we have the time for quarrels,” Natasha said.
Rex agreed.
Thankful for the support, Virgil threw Natasha a nod. Which she ignored as she moved off to collect her gear.
Natasha was the first to move up next to Popavich and begin moving building by building toward to exit on the east side of the village. It took only a few minutes to reach the end of the village where there was another section of wall that had been completely burned to the ground by the fire. The trail picked back up on the other side of a pile of ash as black footprints all headed in the same direction toward the forest bordering the village.
Rex grabbed Virgil’s shoulder.
“We should wait to send riders to give us more people if we are to follow our foe into the forest of the dead. There are many things more dangerous than a few dead villagers in there that we need worry about.”
“If that is the case, then we might as well head home, because waiting about for more men means the trail will go cold. Don’t you wish to find out what has let these forces from the shadow mountains into our lands?”
“Virgil, we must be smart. We cannot allow personal feelings or desire for glory to cloud our judgment of the situation. We should send word to the Fortress of Light, call for aid, and then continue with numbers on our side.”
“Rex, I am worried too, but we have an obligation to protect the realm of man. We can’t risk another attack destroying another village.”
Virgil could tell Rex was uncomfortable with going into the forest. But Virgil knew what needed to be done, and eventually Rex agreed. Heading into the forest of the dead, Virgil felt as though he was being watched. The forest was thick with underbrush, giving whatever was watching them the advantage of sight. The party, meanwhile, saw little but branches and leaves and shadow.
In a thicket, they spotted a tunnel made of thick vines twined together.
“That is where we will be entering,” Virgil said. “I want Popavich, Natasha, and Jack to go in first. The rest will follow once the all clear is given.”
Virgil silently prayed to the Mother that he hadn’t jus
t sent Popavich and his good friends Jack and Natasha all to their deaths.
Closer and closer they got. A snap. Natasha threw up a fist, signaling the rest to halt. Realizing it was just a forest animal, they continued on and disappeared into the vine-laced tunnel. The rest of the party waited, hearing nothing but a slight rustling in the underbrush. Then Natasha emerged from the entrance and waved for the others to come forward.
Thank the Mother of Light, Virgil thought. And he ducked into the tunnel.
8
The darkness of the forest was suffocating by mid-afternoon. Vague fears preyed constantly on Virgil’s mind as every snap, every moving shadow, every barely-heard breath could be a friend or a lurking enemy.
A nagging feeling tugged at Virgil’s mind. There was something foreboding about this place; he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. He threw all doubts behind him he urged his party forward. Leading the party through the thick undergrowth was Natasha. She led with a grace and precision, leaving not a single sound or broken twig to mark her presence.
Suddenly, a crashing—someone was running back through the brush. Virgil sprinted toward the noise. Hefting an ax in one hand and his dagger in the other, he pushed through a bush with his dagger but saw nothing in the area of woods behind.
“What was that about?” Jack asked.
“Nothing. Just thought I heard something.”
Had he heard something? Or was it just his paranoia playing tricks on his mind?
“Thought it was an animal running back into the bushes. I was hoping we would eat something decent tonight instead of the horse slop you made last night.”
Jack grunted and the group moved off. By this time, they were about a half mile into the forest, and it seemed to grow more dense and tangled with every step.
“I heard a story as a boy about this forest,” Popavich said over his shoulder. “My father told me that there was a great battle that happened here during the Age of Turmoil. During the first War of Darkness, the armies of Light ambushed a larger army of forces lead by one of the five dark generals. The army of the Darkness was utterly destroyed, down to the last man.”
