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Elhyrissian Chronicles
Chapter 54: Cold Winds of Finality II.

Chapter 54: Cold Winds of Finality II.

“He is awakening!” Ashnan’s voice reached Ulrich’s ears first as he growled reflexively while toiling in the balmy embrace of the thick, furred sheets the others’ wrapped him after the undead giant finally met its subsequent end.

Above him, the gilded bubble ward glistened painting the gloomy white sky in tenderly tones while surrounding him were the still standing walls of the destroyed homestead. Blanched bones littered the surroundings permeated by the odor of finality and something a bit more pleasant for his nose – a boiling hot mushy stew filled to the brim in the round confines of the charcoaled vessel hanging onto the makeshift wooden contraption while flames devoured the dried wood beneath its eclectic bottom.

Eadwald slowly helped him onto his back, even though no pain remained to assail his being while he inspected his bare-naked upper body and noticing with relief it bereft of scars or a large blackening left by the enormous foot which laid beyond the ruined wooden walls of the once familial homestead.

After thanking Priernuss for the healing he turned to the rest inquisitive what followed after his passing to the lands of Oneiron. Eadwald lessened like a scared pet as Aelfsigior and Priernuss regaled how his son was filled with fear and anger manifesting an aura most divine both ever seen here in the accursed north and south in the warmer forest infested lands.

Though they left out the source of the last worrying noises Ulrich heard though his memory banished them to the furthest corners. The crunching sound of the heavily impaired undead mutating in front of them like some amorphous blob taking familial bestial shapes but also distant, unknowable forms like a nightmarish beast brought forth the maddening realms of Urhggoth.

Both Priernuss and Hevaeck noted to themselves that the Dread Lord with a Thousand Young may have sent one of his children sensing the blessed seed of the Almodo wandering into its territory, though its aim evaded Priernuss while Hevaeck conjured that it may have sought the favor of the dread true lord of the Woodland.

“Thank you, son! Now this old man feels useless.” In the end it mattered not, though the former smiled as Eadwald practically pushed the waning spirit of his father back. “Do not speak such foolishness father. I did not bring the giant down myself, so there is many more things you can still teach me.”

Ulrich like a child hoped to refute, though before he could the growl of his stomach halted his train of depressed thoughts followed by the march of nauseous hunger. With renewed power, he quickly unwrapped himself from the bondage of his sheets and headed for the boiling food which scent overtook the fetid odors still lingering in the air after three days.

**

Mirdbruil threw an unsteady sphere of translucent liquid sphere from one hand to another while she leant against the counter in their kitchen just above the emptied oak walled sink. As the sphere sailed from her right towards her left, her hand suddenly fell beside her and let the sphere splash into oblivion on the floor as a momentary shiver ran through her body.

Instinctively she walked towards the back and found the door closed. “Dear, did you open it?” Leaning out from the doorway, she noticed Amiriniel standing over a vague figure rising from the muddy ground then as her mother’s husky, inquiry voice reached her, disperse back into which it born from.

“No I was following uncle Priernuss’s notes.” She exhaled deeply before answering then went back to the small stone table where the singular piece of paper rested atop staring at the gloomy white sky.

“I see.” Mirdbruil murmured as she felt a surreptitious scorching ail her stomach while her head was beckoned towards the further north by some invisible force. “I’m going to fetch Sigi, want to come with us?”

“I’ll stay home.” Amiriniel answered with a smile while still glaring at the paper, deciphering the words and runes Priernuss beautifully graved onto the paper. Mirdbruil nodded then turned and lightly closed the door before heading out the opposite side.

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As soon as she stepped out, her upper body instinctively tilted ever so slightly in a graceful motion as a spherical object of almost pure whiteness if not for the small pieces of natural dirt and wet mud flew past her face while the sibilant cacophony of scared children came not far from her.

Amongst the children, Sigi hid behind a tall kid of skaeze blood with long snow blonde hair swept by the cold northern wind and intense icy eyes draped in layers of thick garments.

Knowing there is no point to hide, he walked past the others and looked solemnly and apologetically. “There is nothing to be afraid of my dear. We should work on your aim though.” She said teasingly with a motherly smile. “Now say goodbye for now.” With that he turned around and each of the kids younger than him bid him farewell then the two maneuvered through the streets heading on the way to the northern gate.

At the gate the two halted in their tracks and joined in with the amassing group of women including the gaunt wife of Gna, Shad’Yrg and the stout dwarven woman of the Hogstol clan, Hustarra clad in her sculpted ivory plates and reddish leather tunic and skirt beneath the angularly muscular plates. The two quickly noticed Mirdbruil and Sigiwaer and greeted them back as soon as they stopped.

The three indulged in womanly talk, each about their chosen man wondering how they fare in the accursed woodland’s northernmost parcels while they awaited the elderly northern merkin leader of theirs. Sigi clutched onto Mirdbruil’s skirt while his eyes focused on the belly of the stout Hustarra, noticing shadows dancing in circles yet when asked what picked her interest, he remained silent unsure as he felt some belonging to the ethereal thing.

At long last, the elderly merkin of deathly complexion appeared wearing her usual blackened robes with ivory plates similar to Hustarra’s and in her raspy deep voice laid out the orders. First, she explained not to wander too deep from the edge of the forest, then designated the groups with Mirdbruil and Sigi paired with Shad and Hustarra as their protector while they collected the sprouting mushrooms of a sweet, lightly caustic palate.

After each group formed up, the large condensation of village folk moved out the gate with Mirdbruil and Sigi standing still for a moment as he tamed the rising terror within his heart. As they reached closer and closer to the woodland, Sigi’s eyes moved from the menacing trees towards the gloomy skies slowly gaining a warmer, more welcoming tone.

Under the wicked shadows, he followed in the footsteps of his mother and collected the smallest of mushrooms growing in the veiny exposed roots of the grizzled trees. His fingers reached near the slender, smooth and fleshy stalk of the ivory and onyx mushrooms, and from the tips translucent matter blurred reality as he cleaved most hoisting above the frozen earth leaving the basal bulb and the spreading mycelial threads beneath so that a new one may regenerate one day.

Quickly he altered the spell, and the sliced off capped body hovered above the snow and flew into the small basket between the pair of son and mother. As Mirdbruil noticed this, she gently stroked the growing dark mane of his before she shushed the others while her eyes darted off into the shadowy, dimly packed distance of the woodland.

A pungent odor hit her dainty tipped nose while her golden eyes surveyed the surroundings both seen and unseen as mana poured from the arkhaine point occupying the center of her head into her eyes through the anima veins where they sculpted into proper runic inscriptions. Her poised hands arose just as the rest of her body while she ordered Sigi to stay close at her as a cold deeper than the norths pervaded the air around them, carrying the pungent odor of finality.

A shriek most frightening broke the momentary silence coming from their left where a half fully decayed orkh clad in decrepit armor belonging to the 19th Legion sprung forth from the grizzled tree, swinging down its featureless mace at the tall skaeze of long auburn hair.

Sigi begun to tremble, to long for the safety of the village’s walls while pushing into the back of Mirdbruil, though her motherly back calmed his soul and he heaved a sigh while keeping his attention on the nearby trees. Just as he reached serenity, a plant-folk with barked epidermis as grizzled as the trees lunged from the nearest tree emitting an ear-piercing shriek while its left arm contorted into a mass of sharpened appendages thrusting forward the small form.

He swiftly swept his arms towards the left and a sudden gust of wind hurled the plant-folk revenant through the tree, shattering it in two, yet it proved scanty as both the severed lower and upper body skulked towards the boy, though it never reached its target as Mirdbruil swiftly turned around to witness the darkening flames pouring forth her child’s maw devouring the wooden dead whose last shrieks reached beyond the walls of Vonschneithar.

“Retreat everyone!” Mecatl’s disembodied raspy voice rang through Sigiwaer’s head as he stood smiling over the burning cadaver of the revenant while a thrilling queasy sensation washed over his whole being. Mirdbruil’s soft hands grasping onto his brought him out from the momentary stupor and just as he swiftly as he reacted, his legs picked up on the pace of Mirdbruil as they all rushed towards the gate while the village watch began to unleash spells of many myriads of shapes upon the dozens of revenants mindlessly charging after.