Prologue 2: The Duchess

-The year 1184, Winter’s end, The Dusk – The Duchess–

Every time I close my eyes, I always see the last finest hours of the bastion.

I can see him standing tall amidst the towering walls.

The fluttering flags were twirling along with the heavy winds atop of the walls.

I can see the tide of crazy monsters rushing towards the fortified ramparts.

The horde of beasts roaring as they crashed like waves towards the bulwarks.

The bricks tempered by the dwarves and gnomes thrown into the air.

Then, the bastion’s hundred-year-old walls started to crumble.

Its endurance overwhelmed, falling from the sheer weight of the monster tide.

Soon, death filled the four corners of the last bastion’s walls.

The bastion's soldiers filled with blazing blood-lust.

Competing with the beasts with savagery as they roared along with the beats of the war drums.

With each of their frenzy roars, the morale and will of the army burned with zeal.

They all knew that this would be their final resting place.

Their swords, spears, bows, and spells slaughtered every monster it met.

The more they kill, the safer their remaining families would be.

A hundred fell.

A thousand died.

Ten thousand tumbled.

Then I stopped counting.

I was ready to die with them and him.

I was ready at any time and at any moment of that day.

As long as I was with him, it would be bliss.

Even in death.

Yet, he pushed me away. That damn geezer!

I still remember what that douche bag asked me to do last year during the war.

He stuffed my mind with things about righteousness and the ideas about hope.

He ordered me to lead the remnants of the races away to safety.

I knew we were battling on two fronts, one against the beast horde, and the other against time.

I fell into a great dilemma.

I knew this order was for the greater good.

An order I couldn’t go against. But deep in my heart, I still wanted to remain.

I wanted to stay. To be selfish for once.

And he knew that…

I couldn’t help but sigh every time I remember that moment.

It was bittersweet and hateful.

Still, I forsook my sincere wishes for the many.

And I don’t regret it.

I carried his cross for him.

On our parting, he gave me an old-looking yet well-maintained memoir as a parting gift. So lackluster for a final gift.

He said it was from his father, the founder of the last bastion.

He told me to read it when I arrived at the caves.

He told me to write my thoughts on it.

A diary? A memoir?

Like how the two of them did.

Along with it was a box, he said it was his seal and his divine art.

It was his gift for the future generations to come.

…

And it was also for me.

…

It would serve as a beacon for me and the others.

Anyways, I knew he would make me his successor.

Though, it was the call of duty that forced me to lead the remnants to safety.

Not him.

I mean it…

We marched away from the last bastion. Though, it was more of a procession for the lost. A funeral. I saw it all. I heard crying children on the bosom of their mothers.

A shivering pregnant woman, weeping as she peeked from time to time at the last bastion.

Mothers, praying for the safety of their sons and daughters. They prayed to gods, not knowing that they had already fallen.

Despite that, the carriages’ wheels continued to turn and move, there was no turning back.

This lady carried it on her heart, the burden of the living as well as his share of affliction.

It is winter now, yet it’s warm, no snow fell from the sky.

The last bastion's blood had warmed our way, guiding us to an unknown place.

***

-The year 1184, Spring, The Dusk – The Duchess Fellinton’s Ring-

We continued the journey, which lasted for a month. When we arrived at our destination at that time, everyone was already anxious and tired. Welcomed by the hearty dwarves and the intelligent gnomes, I too sighed in relief.

Before we entered our new home, I saw many weary eyes still peering in the direction of the last bastion. They were hoping for a sign. Hoping to see the smiling faces of their husbands, their friends, and their sons. Each heart, wishing to hear the voice of their daughter, their brothers, and sisters.

I decided to wait. No…

We all decided to wait.

We waited until the sunset, till the darkness robbed the sun of its brightness. Until the night breeze and darkness blew away the remaining light in our burning candles.

It was already getting cold.

Thus, I ordered everyone at that time to settle in with the help of the gnomes and dwarves.

…

One more month passed, our lingering hopes were already fading. There were no more messengers coming from the last bastion. It had already fallen.

Until one night, a few of the young scouts managed to find someone around the dead forest. A place nearby the edges of the cave.

Purple patches of bruise covered the body of the man. Signs of dried blood covered the dry grasses around him. One of the man’s arms teared-off in a brutal manner. Chewed off would be a better term.

His face pale as a sheet of paper. His dried tears mixed with dust trailed in the sides of his still wide-open eyes.

His body laying in silence, a twig within the dead branches on this cold dark forest.

It was one of my brother-in-arms, a promising soldier in the bastion’s army.

I remembered that he was one of the most trusted soldiers of that guy.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I lowered my knees to the ground; then I closed his eyes.

I grieved...

He had already passed away for quite some time.

I noticed that his remaining hand was grasping something. I opened his already stiff fingers one by one, and a crumpled letter fell to the cold earth.

With care, I opened the wrinkled paper.

And…

My tears fell…

…

…

I ran immediately to the cave, forgetting everything.

I looked for the locked box containing his seal and art.

Sobbing silently, I opened it. I saw the book of his divine art, his seal…

And a ring, a tiny paper tied to its upper shank coiling like a snake, too scared to let go.

My finger’s trembling, I slowly opened it.

“My Dear Rosalyn,”

Wait for me. I knew you love me… Will you marry me?

All of a sudden, I lose the strength in my grip. The letter from the departed messenger falling to the ground. I bit my lips till it bled. What I felt wasn’t despair but regret.

It landed on the ground, the words within written on glimmering blood. My warm tears flowed uncontrollably; it fell like white snow on a wintry night.

“My Rosalyn”

I’m sorry… I lied. I would not be able to stay with you till we grow old…

So he knew…

Yet, this damn jerk decided to make me cry till his last.

This stupid guy didn’t even allow me to say goodbye.

Until the end, he’s still a jerk.

***

-The year 1244, Spring, The Dusk – Beauty Blooms in Death-

Gazing at the old mirror beside my table, the time had been too kind to me. No wrinkles nor age spots had taken a liking to me.

My looks were the same as before I led the exodus of the last remnants here.

But so as my feelings for him.

My yearning heart still burning, full of incandescence. My hope lifted. My will continued and held on.

More determined than ever to safeguard what he had left to me. I promised myself to live his share till the last.

I also look at the logs of my predecessor and the buffoon. My father-in-law is a man of wit and words, while the buffoon was still a buffoon in his writing.

Though, it seemed like the two loved to use one-liners instead of paragraphs. It’s quite manly. So I decided to put more descriptions and words for my successor later.

Counting from the fall of the last bastion, forty-nine years had already passed. Despite that, only a few things had changed. The four seasons still exist outside the cave.

Life continued for me, the remnants, and the beasts outside.

The good news was the number of encounters and battles with the beast horde was dwindling. Aside from the few preys falling to our traps and ambushes from time to time, there were none. Direct encounters with them were also getting rarer.

It’s a piece of very welcome news for everyone.

Still, my instincts tell me that it never hurts to be more cautious. In this era of chaos where dangers lurk in every shadow, a single misstep will be a disaster.

After all, I saw and experienced some events that only a few know.

I decided to write it on this memoir, as a warning to those who would inherit this book, if there's any.

It happened in the year 1227, the Mid-spring of this era. An era of blood and gore.

We were curious and scared of what was happening above the ground. After the fall of the last bastion, the information we were able to get from the outside world declined to nil.

Information was a lifeline for everyone here in the cave systems. It's a must in this changing world.

So, I, along with the other leaders and elders, agreed to send some scouts for a reconnaissance mission. We commissioned five elites for the operation. We were thinking that they could give us a better view of what’s happening outside.

We called it “Operation Seeker.” Our hope to seek light and a new beginning.

Geared and well-supplied, the scouts started their journey to the vast wasteland.

Then, we waited and let the days take their course.

Until one day, they returned from the long journey.

It took three months before they decided to end their mission.

I sighed in relief after I saw their weary and dirt-covered faces.

We allowed them to take three days of rest so that they could relax. We told them to arrange all the information they had accumulated.

And it took us that three days to realize…

That it was a mistake, we never intended to make.

The first day passed with everything still fine.

Early morning of the second day came, three of the scouts fell asleep. The three fell to the unknown, never to wake up again as eternal slumber embraced them whole. Their lifeless bodies were covered with patches of violet. It crept like ivies as it entwined the corpses. As fast as we could, we isolated the remaining two.

We burned the dead ones as fast as we could, not willing to take chances. An epidemic spreading around the cave-dwelling would be the last thing we want.

Wasting no time, we decided to seek clarity of what was happening and what did they see. The two scouts also agreed as colored bruises slithered in their skins.

We knew that we were running out of time.

Narrating what they discovered, their encounters were something I expected.

Rotting corpses of beast and man alike sprawled in all places their eyes could reach. Caws and Kraa’s of crows echoing in chorus throughout the now lost lands. Their spirited calls declared their dominion over the vast swathes of barren land.

They also saw a towering beast mowing the ruins of civilization. It was seeking any possible survivors in this no-man’s land.

They roamed to seek the living only to find death across the land. Yes, even in the last bastion…

Their narration ended with no clear answer.

I questioned them whether they knew what made them sick.

Instead of hearing any answer, blank stares were their response.

It was clear that they didn’t know.

Along with the others, I nitpicked each of the details of the information they gave. None of us slept due to anxiousness.

Yet, the conclusion we sought never came. The answer never came.

We couldn't see any patterns nor details that could explain what was happening.

The night came carrying the reaper's scythe; another scout had succumbed. His corpse cremated like the three before him.

From five, we were down to one.

The third day came.

Early in the morning, the sentry guarding the last scout’s isolated room sent a letter. He was asking me to go to the isolation room immediately. The last elite was asking for me. He was claiming that he now remembered the cause of their current predicament.

I was curious…very curious at that time.

My steps light as the wind, I arrived at the isolated room where the man stayed.

The man wished to talk with me alone. With no barriers, walls, nor other people between us.

Respecting his will, I granted it, though with some assurances.

My body was shielded by a white aura originating from my divine arts. I entered the isolation room, my slow and deep steps echoed across the room.

I saw deep scratches on the walls tainted with blood; some clipped nails stuck on it.

Looking around the place, an image of a man crouching on one side of the room welcomed me. The man’s face was twisting due to extreme pain. Bulges of veins now clothed his body. He was fighting it.

The violet patches were like a sloth slinking towards his left cheek. The man's suffering revealed to me in its full glory.

The elite took a deep breath and looked at me. He mumbled vague words about a field of white lilies. They found it after running away from the towering beast. Grating his teeth in pain, he told me to be wary of those flowers. And watch him…

Yes, watch his disturbing suffering…

I asked him why he was only telling the story now.

Yet, no answer came.

I saw him spasming and writhing on the ground, the shadows of death loomed, dragging him to the dark abyss. Again, I felt like he was fighting something deep within him.

I asked him whether he wished for a painless death.

Yet, he replied with a sobbing no.

He then shouted the word “watch” unceasingly like a cornered beast in its death throes. His roars the only thing echoing in the room.

The patches in his cheeks wriggled upwards to each of his eyes. The moment the spots reached his eyes, I felt his pulse weakening. He was dying.

Then the man took a deep breath in difficulty. It sounded like a gasp of a dying old man. Gathering his last straws of strength and will, he uttered.

“It made us forget.”

He had lost his breath upon finishing those words.

I can’t describe what I felt that day.

If you asked me, I could say it wasn’t anger, pity, nor shock…

…

It was pure, unadulterated horror.

After his death, I saw tendrils of a plant rising from the ground gently coiling around his body.

Stalks of a familiar plant grew and appeared from the chest of the coiled corpse.

In a few moments, a beautiful white flower bloomed from its shoots.

…

White lilies - a symbol of hope, purity, and innocence.

It’s beautiful, so beguiling.

I felt an extreme yearning coming from my heart as if someone was calling me to give it a light touch.

Hairs all over my body shivered in caution, signaling danger. My instincts screamed as if it knew of the peril coming. It was a parasitic monster.

Yet, I stood there. Stunned, mesmerized, and charmed.

I knew I was its prey.

Step by step, I strode like a wild rabbit walking into a wide-open hunter trap.

I couldn’t help but grimaced in terror and helplessness. That was the second time I felt so vulnerable ever since the fall of the last bastion.

The moment the stalks blossomed, the white aura emitted by my divine art roared in wrath. It was like the dragon in the legends appearing without any notice. It then slammed towards the innocent lilies.

Awaken from my stupor, I saw a wicked sight.

The white lilies turned black, its stems and leaves now looking like patches of innards. An unproportioned flesh stuffed together to make a grotesque art—each flower petals showing writhing faces of people. There was suffering, pain, wrath, helplessness, sloth, envy, greed, and death.

Then, I saw a familiar face. It was the man who died, his eyes hollowed, and mouth opened wide. I sensed that he was screaming, calling me to free him from his eternal curse.

I retched after getting a whiff of the stench coming from it. The smell seemed to be coming from a rotting mountain of corpses. The abomination smelt like a mountain of a dead beast with maggots and worms feasting all over it.

That was the first time I ever smelled something so abysmal. I felt the acids of my stomach rushing to my esophagus. Then to my mouth, its sour taste sensed by my tongue.

I retched.

Alarm bells rang throughout my brain as I gathered the most powerful white flame I am capable of. It seemed like that the divine art I practiced abhors it to no end. It was calling me to burn and exterminate this appalling creature. Burn the freaking thing to the crisp of nonexistence.

This creature must not exist!

Taking a deep breath, I gathered all my white divine aura in my palms. I could feel the intense flame roaring in my hands. The flame was extremely livid as if it was throwing insults and curses at the malevolent flower.

This was the first time that the flame aura I gained from the bastard’s divine art acted like a sentient being. Drops of sweat formed at my eyebrows as I closed my palms and balled them into a fist.

In a few moments, I gasped as the flame in my fist changed its color from clean white to deep violet. I felt deep awe and reverence rising within the depths of my heart.

Then, I felt at ease.

Then I heard a whisper of a lady…

“Burn!”

I felt shocked as I look around the small isolated room, looking for the source of the voice. Yet, there was no one around.

My soul was telling me to follow the plea of the whisper.

I pulled out my sword and imbued it with the raging violet flame. Fearing that I would lose control of the great fire, I decided to unleash it. With gritted teeth, I threw my whole strength behind a simple slash.

I followed the will of the flame. I struck the monstrosity with all the flame I could gather. Despite this, there were no booms that occurred as I smite the inexplicable creature to its death.

I heard my heartbeats galloping as if it was running away from a predator. Each pump sounded like a war drum.

I feared that it would affect the cave system.

The lilies, no – the monster screamed like a banshee in its death throes. A great white and violet blaze engulfed its existence until the world knew it not.

I felt the violet blaze was sighing in relief. I put my hand in my head, thinking that I was feeling disillusioned. The violent blaze didn't stop. It scorched the demonic flower to crisp as if it was making sure that none of its ashes will remain.

…

I puked my guts out after the ordeal.

My heart was still stumping hard as I felt death brushing over me.

Not even on the battlefield of the last bastion did I saw such a horrible existence.

…

I now understand what happened to them as the silence returned to the room. Only a few flickers of violet flame continued to burn on the ground.

I looked at it but didn't hear any voice again.

The mystery of the violet flame remains up to this day.

I gave one more look at the ashes of the monster and my comrade.

I strode away from the isolated room. I decided to tell the tale only to a few of my trusted men.

For fear isn’t what we need right now.

But hope.