“You are no longer an apprentice, Hesah.”

The words resounded inside her mind, now, at a moment so strange.

In her place, most people would have panicked. The so-called adventurers who only knew how to seek battles they could win, who only knew self-gain. As a mace dropped towards her, whistling, promising a painful encounter with her skull, the words of her mentor and mother took her to a not so past memory. Too thin to be vivid, yet powerful enough for it to not be needed.

“It was selfish of me to keep you as one for so long.” Her words and features were rueful. “But it is time.”

If anyone had seen Talzah Dayglade showing so much emotion, they would have been shocked, and Hesah had to admit she had inherited such a trait. In a way, it was a blessing, for it wasn’t just a stasis of her outward expressions, but a direct reflection of her inner mind.

“You have the favor of Astraea, my girl.” The tip of her sword fell gently on Hesah’s shoulder, and even more gently were her mother’s lips pressed against her forehead, right before a pendant was placed on her neck. “Rise now, Paladin of Justice, and spread our teachings through action.”

The shield was lifted impossibly quick, meeting the mace, halting its advance, as Hesah pushed ahead and shifted its momentum to the side, using that opening to bash her enemy back and to the ground. She jumped on top, seizing the initiative, and struck with the edge of her shield against the felled figure, once, twice, fiercely, knowing she had but a breath before needing to spring into action again.

She was surrounded after all.

And unlike her, these enemies would not tire, nor bleed.

Clattering echoes warned her to be on the move, her gaze only briefly skimming behind her, noting half-a-dozen of dark, empty stares, before starting away. Metal against stone drowned the steps following her, feeling glad that her heavy armor wasn’t encumbering. Such was the reason for her quick reaction when, from behind a column, a sword ambushed her as she came by it, swift and deadly, wielded by bone.

Her shield came up, silver reflecting the daylight coming from the now non-existing roof, meeting the blade yet not rejecting straight back, but rather allowing its momentum to continue down, drawing sparks from the collision. She did so intentionally, yet too hastily, drawing a wince from her when the dull blade met the poleyn of her bent knee, bouncing off.

Fortunately, there had been no pain, for much of the strength of the blow had come against her shield, which was usually long enough to cover half of her legs if held at chest height. In her surprise, however, the block had come diagonally, her taken step turning into the root of her defense, and so exposing a small part of her knee.

But as the animated skeleton lost its balance, her instincts kicked in, telling her there was no time for such lingering thoughts, and so her free hand went to the pommel protruding from the upper part of her shield, drawing a bastard sword with a wide blade, its crossguard now what once was part of the frame of its “scabbard”. A bash forward gave her the step needed to slash down, mightly, severing clavicule, chest and ribs, before shoving away the falling bones to clear her path.

For she doubted the skeletons behind her had given up on their pursuit, or even if such a concept was known to them.

She finished the slash with a flourish, sheathing the weapon once again, prioritizing speed, for a worry beyond her immediate danger was starting to take hold of her heart. She made her way outside of those unknown ruins, gray and moist stone shaping what once was a church of some sort, for what she had gathered before coming inside, searching for answers.

Answers about rumors.

Rumors she had been looking into with a group of Paladins, her mother among them.

She just never expected this place to be a trap.

Her steps quickly took her past the inner cemetery and into a garden that bordered the whole of the church, untended for who knew how many years, and she wasn’t surprised when through her ears came the sound of earth being removed, suddenly, explosively, and many times from all around her.

The entrance was a bit further, could she make it?

She shook the notion away.

She had to.

A quick sidestep allowed her to evade a grasping hand, a loose black lock of her ponytail briefly getting in the way of her watchful gaze, through which she was able to see the garden being flooded by the undead, some skeletons, some still with a figure resembling a human, flesh tore and eaten by the worms, the smell so pungent that someone less prepared would have stumbled and fell. But Hesah Dayglade wasn’t just any person, but a Paladin of Astraea, discipline and combat ingrained into her mind and muscle since she was but a child.

And so, her determination endured when her path forward was blocked by three undead, her sword drawn in a hiss as she closed the distance, her shield forward, her figure ready to bull her way out. Swollen hands from a fleshy figure grasped for her, only to meet metal right before being blown away, Hesah stomping the ground to add strength to her bash, as her sword spun, deflecting a hatchet meant to shop her right shoulder, hitting the head of the attacking skeleton with the pommel.

That gave her the breath she needed to break through, for escaping was her only option, outnumbered as she was.

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But as her steps approached the entrance of the church, thinking to grab her horse and gallop her way to the already agreed rendezvous place, she didn’t let any hint of joy or relief reach her heart. Duty came first, emotions later. Such a discipline may seem harsh to others, yet was precisely what saved her life, her instincts flaring right before the cobblestone separating her from her freedom exploded, her sight briefly blackened by her shield, defending her from the falling debris.

And when she lowered it, she wished she hadn’t.

For right in front, tall as an oak stood a bone golem, its humanoid figure wide, lacking a head, with three skulls protruding meaningfully from its chest, black goo keeping its form together…

And completely blocking her way.

Yet no hopelessness found place within Hesah Dayglade.

“Astraea!” She shouted, calling to her goddess, reversing her grip and plunging her sword into the ground without hesitation.

Soon she felt a part of herself stirring, her Essence swelling, the connection to her goddess granting her power and channeling pure light to her sword, cracking the terrain and consecrating it. Blessed by Astraea, an area of thirty feet around Hesah began glowing from the cracks, the light burning any undead that tried to cross inside, an instinctive fear keeping them at bay.

The golem moved forward, its huge fists slamming towards her, too strong to be blocked, too wide to be easily dodged, yet Hesah was already on the move, stepping right as she bashed with the shield in the opposite way, barely but definitely altering the attack’s path, just enough to get out of the way. With a glance then, she noted the light was hurting it too, bones spilling out and clattering on the ground, drops of black goo dissolving in front of the potent sacred effect.

The golem, however, felt no pain, and so hesitated not before following with a sweep to the left. Hesah took decisive action, knowing there was but one option, and with a grace unlike someone wearing armor like hers, she jumped and slashed down at the sweeping fists, her sword still imbued with the same light that had flown into the floor, severing and scorching the black goo away.

Shield down, she rolled over and against the now harmless clutch of bones, and quickly found place beneath the golem’s legs, using that breath of chance before stabbing up with all her might, the light fading from the blade and reaching to the sky, splitting the hulking creature in half. What was left of it fell to the sides, yet she never looked back, and even added urgency to her steps after she heard how two explosions followed, knowing there would be a couple more of bone golems now in her wake.

Out of the complex, she rushed to her horse, whose eyes and hooves were moving nervously and was clearly at the edge of pulling at the reins and running off. She wasn’t surprised at the lack of need to spur it into a gallop, and found her heart beating just as frightened as they made their way down the hill, among trees whose dark-green color seemed too full of life given the scene she’d just witnessed.

The fear in her heart wasn’t for her, however.

Not for her.

Two days of ride later, the sun setting on the horizon, Hesah went inside an inn called “The Smiling Fox”, located in Venshir, a town west of the capital. Her deep-blue gaze skimmed through the place, made of old dark wood, tables spread randomly with a few ones on corners, perfect for private conversations or to spy for rumors.

Her gaze stopped on a familiar face. She neared the table on the far right, knowing how her armor would call attention to herself while the wood creaked beneath her weight.

“You’ve arrived.” Said the man she knew as Henry Barristan, wearing armor much like herself, his head bald from age and with only a brown mustache adorning his face. “And by your expression I gather your experience was much like mine.”

Hesah took a seat by his side, nodding slightly. “What about the others?”

The man nodded as well, recognizing the hint of worry that got mixed into her tone. “Kenneth was the first, and was quite surprised by my tale. It seems his location held no connection to our prey.”

“After me, came Bluddovan, who indeed was ambushed much like myself, and you if I guessed correctly…”

Hesah’s lower lip shook slightly. “And…?”

“You are the last.” Barristan, seemingly caught by the frankness of his words, added, “...for now.”

But it didn’t fool her. From the five of them, Talzah Dayglade’s location was the closest, and only something above her power would be able to hold her away from their rendezvous. Thinking about the worst, she raised her voice unconsciously, “How could this happen?”

It had all began with the rumors of a village raided by an army of undead reaching the ears of the Order of Astraea, who immediately dispatched a priest to the place in question to determine if such foul Essence had been involved, which proved to be indeed the case… after they found the walking corpse of the priest in question.

It was already against the tenets of Astraea to allow Essence to be corrupted so, and an insult to the Order’s pride to let a priest fall under the influence of someone playing such games. For that very reason, five paladins were called to action, two of them a step above the rest: Henry Barristan, and Hesah’s mother, known as Paladins of Judgement.

Their investigation led them to five possible places where undead activity had been sighted. Yet the rumors were questionable at best, setting the group on the most efficient path of exploring each place individually and with caution, as to not let the trail of whoever was behind it get cold.

Necromancers could be quite slippery once they were aware the Order of Astraea was hunting them, after all.

Who could have thought this one in particular would actually dare to set traps for them?

Hesah shook her head, still in disbelief. For even if ambushed, she was proof enough for it to be lacking if their enemy’s aim was to get rid of them.

“Will my lady want something?” Asked a female voice to her left, barely noticing it.

Hesah shook her head again, then nodded to Paladin Barristan before asking for a room and falling on her bed. Her mind was hazy, tired from the fight and the long ride to get to Venshir as soon as possible, barely resting on the way. And to find out her mother had yet to come back only further drained her, sleep coming to her easily despite her troubled heart.

The next day, it was decided three of them would depart towards Talzah Dayglade’s location, while one would remain at the inn in case she were to return before them. Hesah insisted, almost pleaded to be included in the departing group, yet Henry Barristan would hear none of it, and as the higher ranked paladin, she could do nothing but obey.

His words also deeply disturbed her, “Could you endure the consequences of her defeat?”

She knew what he meant, and also knew the man had intentionally avoided the exact words for himself as much as for her. Could you fight against the corpse of Talzah Dayglade?

“Wait for four days. If we aren’t back by then, go straight to the Order and report our findings. May Astraea’s blade rest upon your shoulder.” And with that, the group was off.

And by the fifth day, Hesah departed from Venshir, alone, as a ghastly hand clutched her heart.