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Elhyrissian Chronicles
Chapter 15: Bravery of the Ordinary

Chapter 15: Bravery of the Ordinary

“How far is it?” Azugh asked in his deep, yet childish voice as he kicked up snow and fallen branches as they trailed across the silent forest. The only thing besides them that emitted any noise was the wind softly howling between the trees.

Azugh was a young orc, already much taller and mature appearing than his best friend. His rugged, furred attire already pressed onto his not yet developed muscles. Complexion wise he shared an alabaster hue with the snow blanketing the ground under their feet. Tusks barely peeking out from under his lower lip, while his black mane already scrapes the round collar of his thick coat. His face rough, already ornamented with scar tattoos, small animal bones pierced through his ears and nose.

“Just a little bit more.” Sigiwaer said while his intense blue eyes in an almond frame darted left to right, a hint of fear visible in them. His dark hair, short and clumsily trimmed with a single long braid cascading down from the right side of his innocent face, exposing his sharp aevhen ears to the elements. His sharp chin was cuddled by the soft fur of his coat’s collar, similarly looping around his neck.

“Are you sure we’ll get back before sundown?” Azugh asked noticing the slight dread in his friend’s eyes as he looked down at him.

“Yeah, don’t worry. The old wanderer said it is only half an hour into the forest.” Sigiwaer said as he recounted the disheveled old lady in thick, furred hide armor with a cloak casting soft shadows onto her dirty and creased gaunt face. While the northern settlements were rarely visited, occasionally adventurers seeking prestige, legionaries from the nearby fortresses came to trade.

“You shouldn’t really talk to strangers like her. She could have easily been a Nokken.” Azugh said as he let out a sigh, a small cloud floated towards the ivory sky from his mouth. For a moment he felt a chill ran up his spine.

“She was fine. I mean she was kind of weird, but I guess it comes with the age and all. But a long time ago she was one of us.” Sigiwaer added in his soft, silky voice while recalling the moment the woman called out to her. At first, he was scared, but then the strange adventurer shared some of her bread with him while telling about an old cottage left behind by her parents several decades ago.

“Are you sure? I feel like pa or ma would have mentioned someone like her. And anyone could tell you that. That doesn’t make it the truth.” Azugh said while scraping his prominent chin after climbing over a fallen tree that blocked their way.

“Maybe they forgot about her. It has been a long time since she left.” Sigiwaer noted while being lifted down to the ground by Azugh.

“Could be. But still we have been walking for an hour now, I think. And still no sign of that old shack she told you about.” Azugh stated while looking at him.

“Wait, it is there.” Sigiwaer then yelled as he noticed the decrepit remains of what once was the home of a small family. He quickly rushed while Azugh let out a sigh then followed after him with slow steps, staring at the ground to not trip.

“Isn’t it cool? This could be our new secret hideout. Venture out, strike down vile monsters and bandits.” Sigiwaer’s eyes gleamed with wonder, excitement as he stopped in front of the collapsing entrance.

“Sure, but this definitely needs some repairing.” Azugh noted as he caught up, a faint smile curved onto his face while he inspected the old, abandoned structure.

“Hey look here. Must had been hers.” Amongst the heap of snow that fallen through the ruined roof, Sigiwaer found a small handmade doll of a feminine figure. It was even dressed up in a long robe with collars that concealed its puffed, rotting cheeks.

“Eugh, it smells pretty bad.” Azugh pinched his large nose as he walked near. The waste meat used to fill out these dolls while frozen, still managed to reach a level of decay that resulted in a foul smell. “Pretty old, like the hag. Throw it out the window.” Azugh added while feeling annoyed as he pointed at the window directly opposite to them.

“Just give me a minute.” For a moment, his eyes lit up in a soft bluish glow as his inner mana flowed into his eyes, slowly shaped into the proper runes, inscription.

“Prepare vile monster, I will defeat you and save the empire!” Then as if mimicking the voice of a wizened wizard, he lifted the doll towards Azugh who stumbled back a bit. Holding its arms, Sigiwaer swinged them around as if it was casting spells.

“Ouch, agh.” Azugh slapped his hands onto his torso just as though he had been hit by spells. With an unconvincing slow movements, he fell onto a mound of snow on the other side of the entrance. His tongue playfully rolled out while he stared at a hole through which a large branch of a tree entered. Its pale white leaves rustled as the cold wind blew in, spreading the foul stench of the doll even more.

Sigiwaer laughed a bit while he reached one of his hand out and helped Azugh stand back up. While he cleaned his back from the snow and frozen dirt, Sigiwaer threw the doll out the window on the right. The two kids looked around after that.

“Hey, take a look at this.” Sigiwaer yelled as he noticed a hatch in the floor under a rug that was pretty much decayed, torn completely. “Help me.” The two grabbed the ring with both their hands, then after much toil managed to lift it up slowly.

“I’m not going down there.” Azugh said while staring at the pitch blackness that gazed right back at them.

“Come on. There is nothing down there probably.” Sigiwaer tried to encourage him, while already one leg on the creaking old steps.

“It smells horrible. I think something definitely died down there.” Azugh stood at right edge while once again covering his nose. A smell emanated from the darkness that burned his nose from the inside concurrently making him dizzy. It was as if a family got butchered, and their putrid bodies were left there for decades, still in a state of decomposition.

“I think we should really leave Sig.” He added as sense of dread followed. While he already saw cadavers in his ten years, for the most part they were fresh, and died of natural causes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll only take a peek.” Just as those words left Sigiwaer’s mouth, Azugh let out a sigh, then after hearing something from the outside, crawling around with heavy steps, he followed after him.

**

“They must be close.” Amiriniel pointed at the pair of footsteps in the snow converging, then diverging at random intervals.

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“Good.” That’s all Eadwald could muster out while his attention constantly darted around, watching the surroundings, listening to every little sound the forest made.

A dreaded nostalgia filled him, recalling how he had ventured into the forest when he was the same age as Sigiwaer. He felt the same excitement, recalled the playful expressions of his friends made. Then their pale faces staring emptily at him, the sound of flesh and bone tearing and breaking, blood flowing from their little pale bodies draped in torn tunics and coats.

“What was that?” Those sounds muffled at the loud howl of wood breaking not far from them. Eadwald asked while rushing in the direction, even passing his sister as mana flowed into his legs from the surrounding and from within him.

“Whatever it is, nothing good.” Amiriniel said between two heavy breaths as she picked up the pace. As they approached the wooden shack, or what little remains of it, they froze in fear. Standing at its center was an undead monstrosity, made of bones and putrid flesh stacked together on all fours. Ribcages flipped and served as its back facing the sky, nekrotic energies flown within. Its head a malformed skull with hollow eyes and a grin that emitted a warped rattling as it noticed the two new preys.

The mishmash of rotting muscles – with tortured faces bulging out and flowing like in a river – moved on their own down to its four skeletal limbs, wrapping themselves around the pristine bones. Then they stiffened as it leapt high in the air, its frontal arms or legs moving in a position to swing at Amirinel.

“Ami!” Eadwald yelled as he came out from the momentary trance, pushing the similarly scared sister of hers out from the way of the unnaturally long and sharp bony fingers. His scream echoed through the forest as the tips ran across his shoulder. The wounds rapidly decayed, his flesh at the edges turned almost black while emitting the putrid smell of death.

“Not today.” He said as he bit his lips and leapt from the next swing aimed to take his head. Amidst the landing, he lost his footing as the ground ran down like a smaller hill, he rolled a few times that saved his life as the undead monstrosity charged at him. He shielded his face from the oncoming pieces of the tree that it tore apart in his place.

As he slowly stood back up, he started looking around for anything to use as a weapon. Noticing a large torn of branch not far from the destroyed wall of the shack, he rushed in that direction while fear gripped his heart as it followed him not far behind. He grabbed the fallen piece of the nearby tree, poured his mana hastily into it, and with equal haste forged it into inscriptions that increased the durability of the fallen branch. He held it over his head, stopping the attack coming to tear him in two down from his head.

“Amiriniel? Are you up? Need a bit of help?” He yelled to his sister while the undead monstrosity exerted more of its unnatural strength, pushing its sharp fingers towards his face. Suddenly, pushing back the creature felt easier, while the aching in his muscles disappeared as inscriptions formed within them. He felt the same gentle, empowering warmness form in his legs, and he lifted them up, kicking the large undead away like kicking a small sack of cotton.

“Thanks. Now leave this to me.” Eadwald slowly got up to his feet while ordering his sister. His eyes kept on the undead, while his grip around the fallen, thick branch tightened.

“Okay. But as soon as I find them, we run.” Amiriniel said while her breathing intensified, her azure blood flowing in straight line down from her nose as she wrestled with a gradually growing headache. Ignoring it, and the slight weakness of her limbs, she got up and force walked towards the remains after spotting Azugh laying in the snow face down.

She collapsed onto her knees just from his head, and continued searching for her little brother. After not noticing him, she rolled Azugh onto his sides, and noticed clawed marks left on his chest, the clothing around it completely decayed away. She took a deep breath, then held her palms over the wound, a warm white and rouge light emitted from them. The black flesh gradually gained back its previous alabaster hue, while his crude, skeletal childish ork face grimaced.

“Amiii!” Eadwald’s voice reached her ears, just as the sounds of heavy, rattling steps as it slowly approached him. It prepared to end his short life with one swoop of its right arm. As he stared into its eternally grinning head, he felt its mocking as the asymmetrical upper and lower jaw hurtled into each other repeatedly.

She closed her eyes while her chest puffed out as cold air entered her smaller, triple lungs. For a moment, darkness filled her vision, then the surroundings including Azugh, the undead monstrosity and Eadwald appeared as pale azure contours. Followed them were the outlines of the earth below the snow, the roots of the trees twisting onto each other as they spread all over. She felt their thick, cold essence and tapped into it, but as she did the warmness that she felt while channeling, spreading her mana turned into a cold scorch that tenderly tore into her being, a final cautioning.

The howling of earth followed as roots burst forth under the snow and frozen mud, aiming for the limbs, joints of the undead. Its rattling howl reverberated through the forest, as if it screamed for help while restrained by mother nature.

“Nice.” Was the only word Eadwald could mutter with a smile as his eyes slowly closed shut. For a moment he saw the figure of a tall and lean figure with a shaggy head of dark hair, skin as pale as his. In his hand a long sword which’s blade enveloped in radiant flames, swept through the body of the undead like butter.

“You did well!” As he finally fell into the worlds of dreams, his father’s deep, mellowing voice slowly dissipated, bringing calmness to his beating heart.

**

“How are they faring?” Gna’Yrg asked with a drab complexion.

“Amiriniel fares the best, only exhausted a bit. Eadwald’s infection almost claimed his life, but he is in a better condition. Sigi still haven’t woken up.” Ulrich said while forcing a smile onto his stubbly face, while his eyes were still red with worry, teary from dread.

“He is a tough little fellow. Azugh said he was the one who helped him over the wall.” Gna said while patting his friend’s right shoulder.

“I know. It’s just first Ead, now Sigi. I’m doing a horrible job as a father.” Ulrich said forcing the words out as his throat tightened. He slumped down to the ground while forcing himself not to cry in front of Gna.

“You are not a bad one. The Deossos watch over him, and he will learn from this, just like Ead did, and just like we did.” Gna sat down beside him as he took out a flask of Hmara Mead and offered it to him. For a few moments he locked his eyes onto the flask, pondering. With a swift sweep, he took the flask and gulped a quarter from it.

“You’re right. But still, after this I’ll spend more time with them.” He chuckled a bit as the mead burned while heading down within.

“Eadwald and Amiriniel are already approaching the age to be trained by you and Mirdbruil.” Gna said after he drank a quarter of a quarter from the flask.

“I’m proud of them.” Ulrich muttered as he leaned his head onto the wooden frame of the entrance. The two slowly stared upwards, basking in the stars ornamenting the dark sky. They sat there in silence before Gna’Yrg bid him farewell and returned home, before he too returned beside his wife to watch over their littlest child, toiling to survive.

**

The wind serenely howled, a soft darkness settled at the shack, parted here and there by the graceful light of the moon, shining through the leaf covered branches of the trees. Hungering crows descended down, picked what little scorched, rotten flesh remained on the remains of the undead. Then as if a predator showed itself, they flew away cawing.

A slender, feminine figure wrapped in shadows stood on the decrepit, snow covered floors of the shack. A doll in her right crinkled hand, a black braid in her left. For a moment the moon’s light shone on her pale, emotionless elderly façade under the hood with her graying black hair. Her pupils, black as the starless night sky, devoid of love, hate and all. The lunar light moved away terrified as she looked up, gazed into the white and silvery disk that halted the darkness from swallowing the world.

Then she dropped both on the ground, her hands reached towards Sigiwaer’s half bandaged head that moved around, his expression anguished. The pain of decay scorched his flesh and his being away.

Yet, when her skeletal hands stretched closer and closer, a calmness settled onto him. Pitch blackness leaked out from her palms, into the bandages. Calm settled onto him – even a small grateful smile – as a coldness washed the pain away.

“Use it well. See the path.” She leaned close to his left ear, whispered in a low, innocent tone with half a smile.