By the time the group reached towards their intended destination, the mildly warmer winds of the season of Marzhiitea blew between the dim in-betweens of the Vesgeriath Woodland. While they were behind their schedule which exasperated them little, they felt relaxed as the ward around them shimmered with a greater potency.

Thanks to some further healing received from Priernuss, Ulrich felt better than before, a new vigor surged through him, making each sunken step bearable as they tracked through the frozen, snow blanketed vistas garnished with dying trees all around them.

Whilst he felt rejuvenated, a part of him – like the others – felt a certain unease beget from the fact that since the last battle they have encountered no revenant hunting under the thinly veiled grounds. The following night and three days before their estimated arrival, they all pondered whether they were favored by one of the deossos or the Almodo, which led them to stare inquisitively at Hevaeck first then at Eadwald who simply shrugged his shoulders stating that he had no warning dreams.

A night later, the revelation clawed itself into Hevaeck who then explained that the deossos held no power in the woodland as it was claimed by the dreaded Nightscale. Eadwald ever curious inquired about the fact, and Hevaeck the erudite vicar elucidated the truth that certain beings of the world, of the myriad planes predated the Deossos themselves – though he pointed out that the Almodo Himself was the exception.

Hearing this, the young Eadwald trembled a little at the prospect of facing an adversary predating the Eight. Noticing this, Ulrich reminded him that such a battle was still far ahead and that the boy turned man still had centuries to prepare, while Priernuss added in the tale of the second Elhyrissiar facing the Grimm Sovereign lone after five centuries of preparations.

Even Aelfsigior boasted his triumph against a wild dragon of the House of Dusk who terrorized the local northern settlements so many centuries ago. He spoke of the terror he felt initially when his small regiment faced off with the winged beast whose pallid black, deathly scales drawn many of his lost comrades to their doom, and the flames which rotted away all the snow sheltered foliage, though he abstained from the fact his own arm becoming the victim of the aging flames.

As he finished the tale by advising the boy to aim for the neck of the beasts, Ulrich wishing to further embolden his son promised him that when that day comes to face the greatest winged menace, he shall be by his side, just like his sister and little brother is destined to. As if he started a chain, followed by Azugh they all made a promise to accompany the siblings – though they all gave flippant motives like Ashnan expecting great riches following, even a patricii title, Lioba desiring fame and to amass a harem of admirers while Priernuss simply reasoned it would make an extraordinary peace of art he already titled Slaying of the Dusk.

Hevaeck smiled under his beard as he witnessed the heartfelt moment, though he felt ashamed at the envious feelings abated by the camaraderie of the group, which prompted him to offer his services when the day of Dusk’s end reaches even though he already began to feel the whirring call of the Gray Monarch of Asphodel.

In the same vein, the hours of dusk reached their end soon after the group decided to rest after their warm meal, with Priernuss and Ulrich beginning the shift of watch and keeping company to the ever-awake Hevaeck who thirsted for dreams after almost four weeks without them. A fact which instilled a foreboding dread within him he chalked up to the fact they still stepped in the shadowy realm of the nightmarish lord of this parcel.

They swiftly packed their belongings into their packs which were woven from a mixture of hide and furred silken created through alchemical means while also enchanted with a minor grade of spell expanding their natural space while also easing on the weight of the inanimate objects.

With their formation of a cross swiftly assumed, the group bid farewell silently to the haunting clearing which served as their camp, and continued on their way following the fading rays of the Illius further into the shadow infested nest and Hevaeck quickly mentioned that they stepped out from the territory of whispering shadows, though as the youth relaxed, he added that now they walked in the vast court of the vengeful spectral queen whose servants included the smallest of lifeforms enslaved to her wrathful will.

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Two uneventful days passed by birthing mild discomfort in the group as they felt the cold gazes of undead pests lurking in the umbral nests between the branches of the grizzled trees swinging back and forth as cold winds blew. “How far are we away from the monastery?” During one of their breaks Aelfsigior voiced the question while his eyes looked for the Illius which seemed to obscure itself behind the deathly crown of the trees.

“We should arrive in a day or two more if I am correct.” Hevaeck answered while a part of him departed high above the horizon and watched the gilded Illius gain menacing tints of amber and crimson. “Prepare yourselves. Seems the queen of this land sent her delegates.”

Like before, the group assumed a circular formation around Hevaeck small, corpulent form draped in priestly robes. The ivory shields glistened as a few rays of the Illius shone between the branches, revealing the haunting forms of the revenants charging like starving beasts. “Do not let your guard down.” Noticing Eadwald and Azugh easing their grips, Ulrich whispered to the two youth just as the revenants approached a step or two away from the radiant ward.

A distant recognition dawned in Eadwald’s golden eyes as he noticed the empty eye sockets of framed by rotten flesh staring at them while a misty darkness poured out from them upwards the sky. His body shivered as he recalled the pale motionless forms of his passed friends and the hovering pale form draped in regal like robes formed out of thickened shadows.

Though as he strained his eyes out of his wide curiosity – and an instinctive desire to face his fears – he glimpsed a flickers of a strange color vibrating through the penetrating shadows, birthed in small intervals by a presence of voidness. A color he could not describe in his own mind, but a color from beyond nonetheless he concluded quite unsure from where the notion may have born.

All he knew – which he conveyed in murmurs to Azugh – that the gilded, radiant ward offered no more than faux protection against the servants of the dreaded queen of the land whom he felt a faint connection to. Following his instinct and his father’s words, he deepened his stance, tensed his muscles and took deep breath to calm his rampant nerves.

His eyes followed the revenants patiently circling their prepared prey, and just like his instinct prophesized and justifying his father’s warning words, the revenants broke through the ward with a simple swing of their weapons. Contrary to their expectation, the undead calmly remained a few steps away as the radiant particles fell and dispersed into the void of reality.

Like patient hunters they awaited their prey to make their first move, while in their distorted graven tongue, spoke strange words seeding the group with increasing terror. Though as Hevaeck no longer needed to focus on the ward, he shifted his will towards reflecting these maghia laden words.

Moments which felt like hours, even eternity passed as the dozens upon dozens of walking dead – both sapient and bestial – circled without a hint of killing intent except for their vacant gazes showing small hints of anger, while their tones carried promises of eternal bliss under the service of the Queen of the Damned.

“What should we do? Seems like they are playing with us!” Ulrich said as his patient began to wear thin while like the others, his gaze followed the revenants whose deathly odor permeated the air and slowly layered a nauseous feeling.

“We move northwards while maintaining our formation. If they attack, we retaliate and grant them their deserved rest.” Everyone of the group answered in nods then as a hivemind, began to slowly creep towards the north where their destination laid a day or two away.

Whilst they expected the revenants to lunge at them either at their first movement, or when they jounced through those making their rounds at the front, to their surprise those walking carcasses simply backed away and altered their trajectory while slowly following after, whispering cold, emotionless maghia infused words behind them.

Their ever-grinning grim visages focused on the group, then as the darkening of the world slowly began, one by one the revenants stopped their floundering and watched as the ivory group disappeared in the darkened distance of the woodland.

By the late hour of dusk, when the group stepped into another open domed vista of Vesgeriath, the last of the revenants halted under the vicious darkness nestled between the trees and watched as Hevaeck futilely raised the radiant bubble over themselves while Priernuss and Ashnan kept their gazes on the revenants standing like statues.