“Feel anything?” Asked Priernuss as they arrived at the precipice of the woodland. Grim shadows stretched over the snow, created by the bony branches hanging over them portentously. Sigi’s eyes ran across them, then shifted downwards and stared into the dim surroundings where the legions of gnarled and ill trees stood, waiting to crumble into dust.
“I sense a small group, maybe four or five more than us.” He said as the darkness occupying his eye hole thronged and the small pearl of violet that sometimes shifted into a cerulean tint grew vibrant. “Though I’m not sure if these are revenants.” He added as he sensed the swirling, rattling chain around their distorted anima.
“Nekrosus? Or…” Eadwald asked with his arms folded, rubbing as he shivered at the cold air that gradually dampened as they neared towards the woodland. Sigi shook his head before answering to his brother. “Definitely undead. But they seemed to be – shackled, bound to the will of well someone.” For a moment, he staggered by a sudden draught of frigidness – one passing through not his body, but his soul.
“Do you see the thread connecting them?” Priernuss’s touch vanquished this binding cold. He shook his head while an idea slowly planted itself in his mind. “It goes far and I don’t even see the halfway point.” Squinting his eyes, he noticed the line darker than the shadows occupying the wooden acreage, appearing more as thin slices in reality.
Priernuss closed his eyes, then when he opened them, etheric veins appeared in a triangular shape, framing his pupils. As he swept his gaze across the trees, both triangles rotated slowly, their light growing tenser as he penetrated through the layers of reality, to see the same shackles that alerted Sigi. “Either they are far away, or they well-versed in the cloaking of self.” In the end he gave up after the hundredth layer and said with the tone of one triumphed over.
“Should we call for Augermil?” Azugh dropped the question. Eadwald turned at him pondering for a while, thinking it may be a good opportunity to see the elderly warrior in battle. And on the other hand, a way to demonstrate his capabilities and get an evaluation before registering – or even mentioning – of joining up with the Draennith Praetoriir. When he stared back at Vonschneithar, and noticed the shadows lengthen over the sky and earth he discarded these thoughts believing there shall be better opportunities in the coming days, weeks.
“It is just a small group of undead. I bet you he would take them down without lifting a single finger.” He said with a bit of regret. “Eadwald is right. Though keep an eye on your surroundings. And instead of me and Sigi being rearguard – Sigi you stay in the middle, focus on restraining the undead and empowering Eadwald and Azugh.” Sigi nodded even though he felt a bit dejected at not having the opportunity to test out a few new spells Priernuss taught him – spells of destructive nature.
After much pondering, their legs relapsed into moving forward once more and let the shadows drape over their forms as they stepped through the brink. Under the branches, surrounded by the withering shrubbery, deathly-ill vines slithering onto the gnarled husks, Sigi noted the same coldness he felt from peering into the unseen layers of reality. A foreboding coldness that led to his gaze dance around his surroundings, his ears twitching as he listened to every small noise made around them, shutting out even the crunchy steps of the others.
“They are quite near.” Azugh noted as he stopped in the front with his shield and long hammer raised, ready to strike and protect at a moment’s notice. His pale ears twitched too upon listening sharply and finally picked up on the crunching of snow, of bone and cracking, sallow skin shifting beneath decayed armor on top of the rivulet breaking the serene silence of the accursed clearing where a little light seeped through the barren foliage.
Their faces contorted in disgust, bile streamed upwards from their stomachs and eyes welled up upon the malodorous scent reached their nostrils. The bitter, caustic scent of rotten tendon, withering epidermis, decaying bones invaded them in a moment’s notice, just when they spotted the first of the undead aimlessly sauntering in the snow, dragging its weapon equally in bad shape. Once a young skaeze whose eyes brimmed with excitement upon the promised glories never delivered by fate, and for this lie anger fueled the taciturn gaze sweeping through the trees, the bushes, the snow and stone protruding from it.
And at last, it stopped upon the four whom he viewed with empty contempt, envy even as they possessed what was stolen from him, a fate shared upon him by another of his. He groaned maliciously, spit black ichor that was once was possibly blood or saliva, while its arm veiling its true strength in the mask of slenderness raised its crumbling weapon devoured by the leaking dark energies of the night, of dusk.
“Remember, do as we planned.” Priernuss once more repeated himself in a low voice, fearing to attract the unseen owner of the thread. Sigi nodded while the two before him moved to intercept the charging dead. Their weapons raised with their ends in the elevation of their heads, firmly grasped as their tightened their muscles, pumping and shaping mana into spells to strengthen them against the possibility of lacerations.
“Thanks!” Azugh said, quickly taking a peek behind him as his hammer and Eadwald’s sword lit up suddenly in the bright flames of dawn, vanquishing the creeping, soft shadows, beckoning the light of Illius – its distant cousin – in the dark folds of the woodland. A quite frugal trick he learnt from Mirdbruil and Aurelithae who showed him her own pure golden flames capable of eating away the dark denizens of the planes.
For a moment, Sigi himself turned hearing a warped shriek of another undead who caught their scent. “Focus on them. Need not to worry about me Sigi.” Priernuss said amidst the roaring of torrent of hissing flames swallowing the delicate undead, once a proud aevhe. As his gaze moved past the burning branches of the shrubs and melting snow framing the ashen silhouette, Sigi felt Priernuss’s hand on his shoulder, the unseen tendril breaking through and connecting into his anima veins.
By the time he looked back at his brother, the undead they first spotted laid in the melting snow, its decrepit form devoured by the golden flames of dawn, yet unlike the living only a faint moan could be heard. One filled with delight as the flames ate away the nekrotic matter forming the curse bindings its soul to its distant master. Sigi himself felt a bit dejected, wishing to peer through the link which faded into oblivion before his eyes while he and Priernuss slowly walked up to Eadwald and Azugh. “Thanks uncle.” He said feeling the parting of his palm, and gentle twinge of his soothed mana.
“Was that all?” Sigi questioned as moments passed in the silent clearing, no more the stench of death lingered around them, no more sibilant groans, warped by maghia chilled their spines and limbs. Only for a moment as the dried branches of the bushes, shrubs scraped against withered armor and flesh. Whispers permeated the surroundings as the rest of the revenants neared towards them, sauntering with their weapons held proudly as in life.
“That is quite the few legionaries.” Eadwald noted as the fact that they all wore the 19th’s ivory armor registered in his mind.
“I guess they finally found their place back.” Azugh added whilst they all changed their position while circled by the half a dozen undead. His hammer raised, the corners of his lips curved in excitement and fear. “Sigi, will you manage to keep the spell up?” Eadwald asked as the whispering intensified upon their enemy reaching closer. Though neither of them could make out the meaning of those words, the tongue of Dusk. Yet to Sigi, it felt familiar, the rugged, resonant sound of it, the guttural tones akin to the growl of a distant thunder inevitably reaching and melodic intonations evoking the flow of mountain streams.
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It felt wicked, beckoning to him as he found himself quenching the desire to approach them, to come with them. To come with them? The question came suddenly into his mind as he nodded emptily to Eadwalds’ and Priernuss’s words drawn out by the whispers of the undead. Yet he heard not what words were aimed at him, he still had the notion, the memory of what preparations they talked about before leaving the precipices of Vonschneithar.
The allure remained, pushed away as he inhaled the cold air tainted by the bitter taste of Dusk which slowly became sweeter, soothing almost to the point that he wanted to close down his eyes and stride across the astral realms to the land of dreams. But he remained unrelented, and instead tapped grew his ethereal tendrils out from his arkhaine points and forced them upon Eadwald’s and Azugh’s arkhaine points occupying their lips.
At once their fear dissipated as they felt power surging their limbs, feeling tipsy by the arkhaine inscriptions revealing themselves on their skins beneath armor and cloth. Azugh remained at his back, further supported by Priernuss who made the earth tremble as the undead on their side began their charge. Rotten vines sprouted forth the earth flailing around, striking like serpents as they latched onto the lean limbs of the revenants sending them tumbled down onto the snow and frozen earth.
With quick and decisive strikes, Azugh crushed their heads. The golden flames of dawn wreathing the oblong end of his hammer marched onto the desiccated and frozen forms, spread within a few minutes. Yet they emitted no scream or even a sigh of delight akin to the first undead. They simply continued their whispering into Sigi’s mind who found it harder and harder to resist it. He felt something… someone calling out to him from the dark threads stretching into infinity.
Sigi stood frozen, focusing most of his will upon the spell coiling around his mind. His hands tensed and stretched downwards, fingers curling and cracking as he strained them to cover his ears as the whispers drawn out all sound and turned into the ear bleeding shrieks of banshees. Balance nearly lost, he almost crumbled behind Eadwald who noticed his struggling as the golden flames wreathing his blade began to weaken.
Finally hearing the voice of his brother broke him out from the dazing whispers of the dead. He dug into the snow and earth which cut into his skin beneath the nails whilst merging his mana with the surroundings, shaping it against the one undead with a singular remaining goat horn with the tip crumbled away. Its shriek sounded less pleasant, more horrifying to Sigi who reacted instinctively. Sigi held out his hand, gesturing Eadwald to stop as he turned to his aid.
The undead betwixt the two suddenly exploded, the blackened, desiccated flesh splattered all over as an invisible force passed through its weak body clad in a weakened armor that shattered in the same manner. A force that was most similar to being punched by a northern giant who grew to the size of half a mountain, and a natural affinity to time maghia allowing them to accelerate their powerful strikes. “Behind.” Sigi uttered while taking quick breaths, his tone laced with elated twinging of his soul and body, forcing him to focus whilst getting back onto his feet.
By the time he managed to stand on the two, most of the undead that surrounded them laid in the snow, burning away by the gilded flames which no longer wreathed Azugh’s and Eadwald’s weapons. “Wait!” Except for one who was cut in half by the latter who was raising his blade to strike down at the retreating creature of dusk. “What?” He asked lowering his blade.
“Let me try something.” From beneath the snow, the blackened earth formed into tendrils reaching towards the crawling upper body, carefully wrapping around its abdomen to not crush it, then dragged it before Sigi whilst restraining its withered arms. “Careful. One bite is enough from it to rot away your hand.” Priernuss said noticing Sigi reaching towards the forehead of the undead who like a rabid hound clashed its jaws with such a force and zeal that all four thought it would crumble after four or five more snaps.
“What exactly are you trying to do?” Azugh asked a bit impatiently as his eyes darted around their calmed surroundings. “Whether it is feasible to see through the thread binding the undead. And to make sure no nekromancer lurks around here.” Sigi answered honestly, with a slightly cold tone as his veins popped out from under his skin and gloved with a dark violet shade as he felt the weightlessness of the astral realms lift his mind and soul from his body.
“Just be cautious. This can easily backfire.” Yet he still clearly heard Priernuss’s voice and the touch on his shoulder from which layers of mental protections poured and molded over him. “I will. Only want to take a swift peek, that’s all.”
“Sigi, what happened?” Eadwald rushed to him as he began to shiver, his teeth clashing against itself. A coldness deeper, older yet familiar to what he felt before entering the woodland swept through him, its hoary tendrils penetrating towards his arkhaine points. “I’m fine. Whoever took control over them did so with the expectation of being discovered.” As they began to wrap around them, he faltered in traveling through the etheric tunnel and conjured the flame of dawn. He hissed at the pain of the Rage approaching, and at the tendrils flailing in anger before they retreated allowing him to continue onwards.
“They are quite far away.” He noted feeling the distance between himself and his body as he stepped onto wet stone. Granite or basalt he wasn’t sure of either, but felt similar to the floor tiles in the palace of the Black Pharaoh. Except these were a tad coarser as he pressed his ethereal soles against them. “See anyone?” Priernuss asked with a slight bit of worry.
“Nothing. No one, just utter darkness… wait. I see a pallid figure materializing not far from me, though the threads seem to pass through him.” He stared at the back of the tall figure draped in pallid white, shapeless robes with the fringes charred by flames seemingly undented. For a moment he froze in fear when Grimslaukh turned back, his empty eyes staring right through and at him. He heard his name being called as they noticed his fingers moving by themselves as he once more began to shake with a primal fear as he watched the blackened lips surrounded by umbral blisters curve up at the corners.
“Sever it Sigi!” All three yelled at him, yet he could not. The fear he felt turned into a dim curiosity when Grimslaukh turned back towards the endless darkness and sauntered playfully forward, then stopped where Sigi noticed the edge, heard water breaking against a stony shore.
Even in this utter blackness, Sigiwaer made out the black lake stretching for hundreds, thousands of kilometers. Waters that remained still, calm, peaceful as the ghastly white form bowed deeply, one arm held high. When he straightened his posture, let his blackened arms ending in bony fingers swing beside his hipbone waves of purplish foam flung themselves upon the stony shores.
For a short moment a sharp tip rose, water flowing with fluctuating pace down while the surroundings before them grew dimmer. He could not move his astral body, frozen by the draught of dusk, the tendrils of fear wrapping around his unseen limbs, and the utter awe evoked by the presence of the one whose presence heralded the night itself. He could not force his gaze away as the darkness, the shadows parted before the all the hues of twilight pouring from the singular eye staring down at Grimslaukh with a single slit resting at the center, a border of vicious darkness swallowing the majestic shades purple, crimson and dim golden.
The lone alluring and petrifying eyes of twilight which gazed into him seeing his past, present and future with contempt first, then with admiration thawing away the icy grip of fear, though not fully as he found himself staring into Eadwald’s golden eyes relieved at the return of his brother. “Next time, if I have such an idea, slap me in the face.” He said with a weak, fading voice while Eadwald chuckled. “Same is true for you two.”
“What did you see?” Priernuss asked with a smile, a question that strengthened the hoary remains of fear within Sigi.
For a moment, he contemplated whether to speak truth or not. “I am not sure.” After a while, he chose to lie. “But now I know what you meant regarding your first meeting with a dragon.”