3
It felt like there was almost an endless flood of the undead. Claws, scratching at my rusted armor. Their moans and screams filled my ears, and the rot and stench of decay filled my nostrils. And yet, I must remain stalwart, I must hold on. One claw nicked my face, drawing blood. I felt the full weight of my hammer brought down onto the wretch’s skull. Its head exploded like crushing fruit at its ripest point. My shield deflected another’s advances, leaving them open for the perfect opportunity to push them back, sending them into the crowds behind them.
I must hold out more, I must last. There were so, so many counting on me, all of them, needing me to stay strong, stay stoic. My breathing became heavy and labored, and that damn headache, why did it always come back at the worst time? But I still had faith, faith in myself, and faith in the people who needed me most. I already failed once, I will not do so again. I mustered everything within myself and charged a blinding white light in the palm of my hands. At first, it was nothing bigger than the size of a grape, but it grew and grew fast until the whole room was enveloped with its grace. And then, a flash, an explosion. I closed my eyes as it happened. The moans and groans of the dead became a crescendo of screams. All of them, in agony. Their skin became so hot you could hear it sizzle, and pop. I opened my eyes again. Nothing remained of the undead horde but the ashes on the ground. Surprisingly enough, the floor and walls were untouched, even though they were made of wood. I checked myself over again, I was, alive at least. I put my hand over where the beast had scratched me. Nothing, the wound had completely closed over, new flesh permeated the surface.
“Raldnech!” I heard a voice shouting in the distance. I readied myself and charged toward the sound. The night sky was lit up by the roaring flames that surrounded me. The ruined city that Mendax now called home, was little more than ruins, even before it was set to the flame. And while it worked for a little while, certainly covert enough to initially not give Tyrannus much reason to suspect his enemies might be here, that would only last so long. At least the smoke in the air hid the smell of decay.
I found the source of the voice. “Sisyphus!” I shouted over at the hooded figure. They sliced through the mindless undead in their path, slicing them at the necks, and severing their heads from their spines. It always happened within a split second. I always wondered if their victims even recognized when they died. Sisyphus cleared the way and approached me in the now-cleared street. Well, mostly cleared street. There were still more of the mindless ones approaching, but more than enough time to talk briefly.
Sisyphus lowered their hood. For being undead themself, they took remarkable care of themself, as well as they honestly could have. Their long, silver hair flowed down, revealing their sunken, pale face. Thankfully, due to the magics by Mendax and her necromancers, Sisyphus looked, healthy, healthier than they used to. Although I only wished to see them back when they were alive, I’ve only ever known them, as undead. They sheathed their daggers on the bandolier they kept on their chest. They darted their milky white eyes around, seeing if I and them were relatively safe.
“What do you think, a minute?” They asked me.
“I wouldn’t wait out here longer than a minute.” I retorted. “Give me the info you got, quickly now.”
Sisyphus grabbed a hold of my shoulders, and twisted me towards a direction not too far off of where they were running from. “Over there is the big boss,” they said, “I’d reckon if you deal with them, this whole mess will clear up.”
“Good work Sisyphus, we might be able to deal with this, before anybody else gets hurt.” I told them. I was glad that I could trust them. Especially now, now that the allies we have are few and far, even less so do we have allies we can trust. Speaking of…
“Sisyphus, where is Mendax?” I asked. “Have you seen her recently?” Sisyphus shook their head. Damn, I needed to find her, if there was anybody in this city I needed to keep my eye on, it was going to be her. She was the only person I knew who knew exactly where Kaje was held up, at least, she was our best lead, and Sisyphus seemed to trust her as well, I’m not even sure why. Regardless, I promised Winrad, and myself, that I would find him. I don’t care what that damn prophecy thinks of him, I know exactly who he is, nobody can write your story except yourself.
“Keep an eye out for her, would you?” I asked Sisyphus.
“Sure, I’ll do that for you.” A voice behind me spoke. Mendax. Was she listening the whole time? I wouldn’t put that past her. I could never tell what exactly her priorities were. Tyrannus was definitely her enemy, but she held no trust for the rest of us. She held in her left hand a long, slender object. Was it made from fabric or cloth?
“Mendax, I was just looking for you!” I told her.
“Likewise,” she responded, and threw the slender object towards us. It was, not what I was expecting. It was a necromancer, from the Fallen Petals, the very same ones assaulting the city, the very same ones that follow Tyrannus. I took another look around us. All of the surrounding zombies had already withered away, and died. Mendax must have just only killed them seconds ago.
“We could have used the information they would have provided, Mendax.” I told her. “We could have captured them!” She started walking toward us.
“They were simply a grunt, they don’t know any more than you, or I do at this point.” She said.
“Perhaps they know more than I do, Mendax, I need you to be more upfront with me.” I told her. A useless plea, I know, it’s not like it has worked before. How was I supposed to trust her with the lives of all of these people, if she never opened up to me? These people needed clarity, they needed to understand just what in the hell they were getting into, as do I.
“Raldnech if I provide you with the information that I have now I cannot trust you to not make any rash decisions with it.” She said, sheathing the metallic claws she had extended from her gloves. “You have faith in me, right?”
The way she said that word, Faith. She was trying to tap into my title, who I was chosen to be, The Aspect of Faith. I gritted my teeth. I could never understand exactly what was going on in her head, and that mask she hid behind didn’t help either. For some reason, it reminded me of the plague doctors I’ve heard of before. It was clear that she didn’t trust anybody, nobody, at least from what people have told me, has seen who that person is behind that mask. She could be anybody as far as I knew. She could be an agent of Tyrannus, sowing the seeds of doubt among us. No, I knew someone who was out for blood when I saw it. It was in their voice. That bloodlust, you can never hide. I remember Winrad having that same voice when we heard that Kaje went missing, after that point, I could hear it in all of us. Perhaps that was the one true thing I knew about her, she had a drive, a purpose to fulfil.
I scoffed and sheathed my weapons. “So, I assume you heard what I and Sisyphus were talking about,” I said.
She nodded. “Looks like we’ve got to deal with them, and quickly if we want to make it out of this alive.” Would we make it out of this alive? I would hope that her people’s lives were important enough to her, but just how important was revenge to her in comparison? She was no stranger to running these suicide operations. The people who joined her on the missions knew the danger, but there had to be better ways of handling these missions, even if it might take longer, the lives it could save alone would be worth it.
“Sisyphus,” I said, they looked back at me. “Try to sneak past their ranks as much as you can, try to thin out the hordes before they can even get to us.”
“I’ll get right on that.” They said and darted back the way they came from.
“You, you’re coming with me.” I told Mendax “We’ve got to minimize casualties and deal with that necromancer.”
“The main priority is that necromancer.” She retorted, “The casualties will cease once we deal with them.” I lowered my gaze. I wanted to disagree, but by wasting more time here, there would be more that died. I started running towards where Sisyphus pointed us to, and Mendax followed me.
I really wanted to trust her, I really hoped that she would do right by her people, and make sure that they get out of this battle alive. All of them, the new, soulful, mindful undead I met were given a second chance at life. The only one I met before this schism was Sisyphus, and they were completely a fluke. Mendax had found a way to return the souls to the dead bodies, so that they could now finally have the chance at life that was stripped away from them. And with the necromancers that Mendax had accrued over time, they didn’t look too different from normal people. Sure they looked paler, had those milky-white eyes, but what else could they hope for. Once upon a time, I would have never even thought of working alongside these people. But times have changed, and if these people can help give some semblance of life to these undead, something to help them be more at ease with their new lives, hell, it might all be worth it. And yet, despite them regaining their humanity, despite them having this second chance at life, it seemed like all Mendax focused on was how to best use those lives, even if it meant they would die for what she believed to be a greater good, killing Tyrannus. I wish I could say I had faith in her, yet all it seemed like she wanted, was the death of Tyrannus. All of us, every single one of us had our reasons for exacting revenge on Tyrannus. He kidnapped Kaje and slaughtered thousands of innocents, hundreds of thousands. But if we don’t do our best to make sure the people, what left of them survive. If we just view the people as a resource, a number to throw at our enemies. What difference is there between us, and Tyrannus at the end of it all? I’m not sure if even she could answer that question, not that she would take the time to answer it anyway, or even ponder it. I failed all of them Kaje, Winrad, Alarotha, Sisyphus, everybody. I vowed I would never let that happen again.
We turned the corner, and the stench of rot, and burning flesh grew evermore strong. In our view, a great battle underway. Hundreds of the mindless undead shambled toward the dozen or so soldiers that stood ready for combat. Archers, swordsmen, spear men, and wizards, and I thought I could even spot a priest, most likely from the same order that I hail from. And a necromancer as well. All of them, once alive, now all undead. But still, undead who have retained their humanity, and their sense of self.
It didn’t even take a moment of hesitation. I charged towards the mindless ones, if I could save them all here and now, and if we could kill the leader of this assault, this would be a sound victory here today. I glanced back behind me. Mendax, who started running after me a second after I did, was hastily gaining ground. They were going to run past me any moment now. Her strength amazed me. She was quicker than any horse I ever rode on, she was even faster than most modes of transportation back home. And her strength. Her strength alone could match the strength of ten bears. It was as if she herself was an incredibly fast-moving explosive device, one that could recharge and ignite again in milliseconds. That wasn’t even commenting on her ability to control the blood of others. Hemomancy, I believe she called it. I had never once seen it before, her ability to manipulate the blood in a person's body just by creating even the smallest wound was remarkable, and terrifying. I suppose that’s always why I wore my armor around her, and always kept my shield on my arm. I felt like I’d never seen just exactly what she was capable of yet.
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We reached the frontline, alongside the other soldiers. “Mendax, Raldnech!” The necromancer shouted at us, “It’s good to see the both of you, your timing couldn’t have gone better!” They said. Mendax was stopping a little bit ahead of me now, right at the front lines. Although every part of me wanted to charge into that horde, It was best to gather as much information as I could, before making any rash decision. Strategize, utilize every person here to their fullest.
“Likewise, soldier,” I told them. I looked around a bit more. Some of Winrad’s people should be around here. “Where are the dragons? Where are Winrad’s people?”
The necromancer shook his head. “Nowhere sir, they must have been–” A shriek penetrated the sky. I looked back over at the front lines. There were creatures, formerly human sprinting on all fours, like a pack of wolves, or tigers. Their stomachs are ripped from their bodies to make them more lightweight. The crude metal wrapped and nailed into their hands formed vicious claws. And the rusted metal cages around their heads created a crude piece of armor.
“Shit! We need orders!!” The archer shouted. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen something like this. The Fallen Petals loved to screw metal into places no piece of metal should be. I’d even seen them completely remove the shins from some of them and replace them with springs. It made it much easier to have them drop onto some unsuspecting person, and disembowel them before the adrenaline could even pump through their veins. Everybody had scattered around. Except for Mendax. She stood in the front, waiting for the hordes to descend upon her. I had no doubt she would be able to handle whatever came her way. I knew these beasts, they hunted an army all at the same time. I looked around, who would be the most exposed? The Archers? The priest? The Necromancer? I kept my gaze on the archer, if they got overpowered, I would be right there to defend them.
It started faster than you could blink. Dozens of the pack descended on us. Mendax brought the attention to herself, leaving us with less to deal with. Even though their numbers were much lower, they would still prove a challenge. One of them charged at me. I raised my shield. The monster leaped into the air, almost hidden by the smoke. Right as the beast would fall onto me, I swung my shield, parrying the beast, and sending it sprawling to the floor. I heard the crack of bones. It sputtered, and twitched, like a dying animal begging to be put down, one final act of mercy. I let the weight of my hammer do most of the work, crushing the skill.
One down, one down out of dozens. I looked around the field. Others were not so lucky. Our necromancer was somehow able to turn the two monsters charging at him under his control. Both of them tackled another one of their siblings. I looked over at the archer. She had landed three arrows onto the now still body of one of them, yet they were now entwined with two others, almost sure to rip her apart if she wasn’t careful with how she stepped. I rushed toward her and tackled one of them to the ground. They were not caught off guard as I would have hoped, but these creatures felt no fear, no emotions. They were like machines, designed with the sole purpose of killing. It sprang up, and tackled me, clawing at my armor bit by bit. I couldn’t move, the weight of my sins bearing down on me. I called out to the powers. I felt the bright warmth envelop me, I, must, hold, out. I looked over at the archer. My eyes widened with fear. The other creature tore at her, and I saw it slice her arm from her body. I felt, drained, I closed my eyes, and the light grew dim. The creature would break through the armor at any moment now, and leave my skin bare. Whatever happened now, was up to fate to decide. Fate. Faith. Oh, how I dearly hated those words. Faith brought me my powers. Fate tore me away from those I held dearly. What good was faith in the wake of overwhelming odds? What good was faith if I couldn’t put it into those around me? What good–
The sharp, rusted claws of Mendax tore through the beast, From what I could see, she ripped out the spine of it, and it slumped against my body. “Get up,” she said to me, I pushed the body off of me and inspected my armor. The claws didn’t even scratch that deep yet, only surface level at most. She outstretched her hand toward me “Get up,” she commanded, “you’re worth more alive than dead.” I grabbed her hand. She pulled me up with such surprising strength that I was almost worried that it would have been pulled out of the socket. I looked back over at the archer. She had somehow stuck an arrow in the creature’s head with the arm she had left. It was completely limp now. The necromancer rushed over. All the other beasts were dead, but there was still a large shambling army approaching us. That outburst back there, I couldn’t let it go like that again. There were too many people counting on me, counting on us, I blinked back the tears.
“Raldnech!” The necromancer shouted at me “I need your help, now!” I rushed over to him. He pointed over at the arm of the archer. “Get that now, we can still fix this!”
I ran over to the discarded arm and grabbed it. Rot already started to set in, and quickly too. It must be the necromantic energies tied to the archer that stopped it from decaying as quickly, now that it was detached from the body, it’s trying to catch up to its normal decay cycle. I gave the arm back to the necromancer, and he placed it on the newly formed stump.
“I hate to do this to you, but I need to, transfer some of your life, to her.” He said. “If we don’t do this, and soon, she could-
“Of course, what do you need me to do?” I asked.
“Just give me your hand, I won’t take too much.” I gave the necromancer my hand, vibrant purple and green energies swirled from my arm. “You’ll be feeling much better by tomorrow, I promise you.” The energies flowed through me, to the necromancer, and the arm. The flesh stitched itself back together, and the rot subsided, leaving behind pale flesh. My arm felt, not in pain, but numb. The necromancer let go of my arm, and a tingly feeling remained. “I only took what was needed, you’ll still be able to fight.” He said.
I looked back at the army slowly approaching. “That’s a good thing too.” I looked back over at the archer, she still couldn’t move her hand, but if the necromancer was to be believed, she should recover over time.
Mendax walked past. “Get out of here,” She said to the archer. “Fall back.” The archer nodded, and started running back the way that I and Mendax came from. I grabbed my, now slightly heavier hammer.
“What’s the plan Mendax?” I asked her.
She stayed staring at the horde approaching, unmoving, unflinching. I assumed that she herself was undead, which meant that she had no need to breathe. Just one more thing on top of just how unsettling she was sometimes. “I asked you a question.”
“You hear that.” She asked. I tried to listen more, and I looked back over at the approaching army. Nothing too far out of the ordinary thus far, aside from the moaning and groaning of the shamblers. I shook my head. I kept listening, for anything, anything at all. I looked over back at Mendax. Was she, trembling? Quivering? I noticed her whole body shaking.
“Mendax?” I asked her. She didn’t respond. I glanced back over at the horde, they were so close now that you could almost see their milky white eyes. The others around us readied their weapons and their spells. “Mendax! What are we doing?” I shouted.
Mendax charged toward the horde, and soon, disappeared into the crowd. “Mendax!” I shouted once again at her. No matter what happened next, she was gone. Then, the ground started quivering. It was a slight tremor, a tremor that repeated rapidly. I looked over the horde. A wretched, spiderlike mass skittered toward us. Just how many bodies was it made from? Were they all humans? What in the hell could we do? I heard one of the swordsmen behind me start to gag.
“Raldnech” One of the swordsmen blurted. “What should we do?” For the first time in a long time, I was speechless. We could retreat right here and now, but this would only delay the inevitable, and we would only be endangering more lives, civilians' lives. I could not abide by that. I took a long breath. Perhaps the only thing we could do at this point, was pray, or maybe…
“I need every swordsman and spear man up here with me, and the rest of you stay behind us.” I looked back at the priest, the wizards, and the necromancer. “I need you all to try to burn the creature, and any other mindless ones that get close, and I need you to drain it of whatever life you can!” I looked over at the archers, the ones that were left. “Don’t worry about the beast, worry about the smaller ones!” I looked back at the horde, I could almost smell their breath at this point. Yet, even just how close they were, they would still not make it here before the spider made it. The archers let loose some of their arrows, killing a few of the undead. And the wizards and the priest struck down even more. I gripped my hammer so tight, that I couldn’t even feel the sensation from the necromancer previously. I held my breath. I had to have faith in my comrades.
I swung my hammer, the rings around it glowing brighter the closer it got. It dodged my hammer, but the light singed the beast. One of the spear men had impaled the beast with the spear, getting it stuck inside the writhing mass. He got out of the way and pulled out a knife. The tenacity and the resilience of the undead always surprised me. In the face of overwhelming odds, they never seemed to back down or surrender. Perhaps that was because they had no other choice. The spider stomped down with its spiked legs, and impaled one of the swordsman, killing them instantly. I looked around trying to see where it might next attack. The disarmed seaman, I saw the leg closest to him rear up, ready to strike down. I charged over, shield at the ready, Perhaps I could push them out of the way before-
But the leg struck down anyway, piercing the spear man in the chest. It brought them up to its head, where the spear man took the opportunity to thrust their dagger into the maw of the beast. It had little effect. The spider swung its leg, and sent the soldier flying. A bolt of flame hit the spider, which seemed to have little effect. Everything that we were doing seemed to have little effect. But what else could we do? A leg tried to strike at me, I brought up my shield, deflecting to blow. I had no idea if it was my own strength or the strength of my armor that still kept me alive. Yet, I guess it didn’t matter much. I would remain here, until the end of times if it meant that this would save others. I looked back over, a leg swept over all of us, impaled a wizard, and in a sweeping motion, tore the necromancer in half. I felt something within me become, heavy. All of this death, I’m failing these people here, perhaps for the second time. I stopped my own breathing. They’re trusting me, and I’m failing them, again. I promise you, all of you, your deaths won’t be in vain. I will try to be the vanguard for as long as I need to.
But that would not come. The beast sized, sputtered, and collapsed, all of it, including the horde as well. For the first time in a long time, the only thing I heard, was the sizzling of the fire. But the death, there was so much death, so much that might have been avoided. I collapsed to my knees. Mendax, where the hell are you? What did you see? Why didn’t you stay here? I saw you killing monstrosities at least twice the size, and twice the strength by yourself. You know how these creatures work. I stood back up, and gazed over the horizon. There was a figure, dragging another. Mendax, that had to be who it was. I marched over toward her. I needed answers, and I needed them now. She didn’t have her people’s best interests at heart, you only viewed them as if they were arrows in a quiver, something to be tossed and discarded to kill somebody else.
“Mendax!” I shouted. “You better have a good reason for running off like that.”
She stopped a little distance away, holding the squirming figure. “My reasons are my own, but I do believe that you are going to like this one.” She tossed the figure onto the floor. I walked over to her. The figure was a necromancer from the Fallen Petals. He had a gold trimming over his clothes, and they were made from a purple, silken fabric. He had five fresh puncture wounds on his neck. I looked up at Mendax. “His name’s Adiun, I’m making sure that he’s not going to bleed out, as long as he behaves.” She said. The necromancer was trembling.
“Mendax, you know how many of these people, your people died?” I asked her, gritting my teeth.
“You know just how many more lives we can save with the information he’ll provide us?” She asked.
“How could you say something like that?” I asked her. “You’re going based solely on a guess that they’ll know something! You have to understand the cost of these things!”
“I know the cost better than anybody!” She shouted. “You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through, Raldnech.”
“I have no damn idea what you’ve been through Mendax because I don’t know anything about you!”
She looked back behind herself, then back at me. “Raldnech, that’s for the best.” She said all anger left that last sentence. But it didn’t matter at all. I shook my head and turned away from Mendax. I started walking over toward the remaining soldiers, they were picking up the pieces still. “Raldnech.” She said. I stopped walking away.
“You never know who has your back, Raldnech, you never know exactly who’ll be there for you.” She said. I turned back toward Mendax. “The only person you can rely on is yourself, survival is all that matters.”