The Che’esir Plains seemed to stretch on forever in every direction I could see. As we emerged from the forest, they seemed to just appear in front of us. Verdant green grassland, sunkissed rolling hills, and sparse pockets of trees dotted the landscape, a far cry from the dark and dense forests we’d been trekking through.

I heard Ripper sharply inhale and whisper, “It’s beautiful…” I managed to stop myself from doing the same. I didn’t want to appear as some untraveled, ignorant city girl, even if that was what I was. After all, I had an image to maintain. I wasn’t sure what kind of image, but I knew I should nevertheless try and maintain it.

Lionel patted Ripper on the back and began descending the hill we were standing atop. “Just half a day’s travel from here is a road to Wolfwood. After that, it’ll just be a two-day trip. We made good time through the forest.”

“You know,” I said, “compared to the forest, these plains seem rather…inviting.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” Lionel said. “Bandits were known to roam these plains.”

“Were?” I asked.

“Yes,” Lionel said, “they’ve been replaced by something far worse.”

“What’s worse than bandits?” Ripper asked. “Dragons?”

“The Undying Emperor, in his eternal wisdom, has released the dead which were contained in the great, ancient burial vaults,” Lionel explained. “I believe he intends them to be…a distraction for the Republicans.”

“So, what…there’s undead running around human lands?” Ripper asked, glancing around nervously. “That doesn’t seem too smart…” Lionel just stared at her for a second before turning and continuing on.

“No, Ripper,” I whispered, “I think he was being sarcastic.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know?” Ripper asked, glaring at Lionel’s back. “One minute he’s the Emperor’s most loyal soldier-spy, the next he’s making backhanded comments about his tactical decisions…it’s confusing is all.”

“Humans are contradictory,” I said sympathetically.

“Wait,” Ripper said. “Is that why they’re the Skeleton Plains?” she asked, calling ahead to Lionel. Lionel chuckled and shook his head.

“No, that name has been around for a long time,” he explained. “It comes from how many fossils the early settlers found there. But the name is…apt, considering recent developments.”

—

That night, Lionel didn’t wake me for my watch again. It made me a bit nervous, but the next morning he assured me it was fine. Despite that, my nerves weren’t calmed. My unease was further aggravated when I found discarded fabric soaked with black blood just outside his tent. The pieces of cloth were soaked with undead blood—a corrupted and unholy liquid the color of squid ink. A shiver of fear went down my spine.

The next night, I woke up at midnight. Slowly crawling out of Ripper’s embrace, I stepped out of our tent and saw Lionel sitting by the fire, feeding it sticks.

“Do you ever sleep?” I asked.

Lionel looked over his shoulder back at me and shrugged. He turned back to the fire. “What’re you doing up?” he asked.

“Maybe I caught your insomnia,” I said. I sat down at the fire, directly across from him. The cold night air bit my skin so I pulled my blanket a bit closer around myself.

“It’s not a good time to be up,” he said. “The undead walk.”

“How could I sleep, knowing that?”

He gestured to my tent. “I hung a charm on your tent. It keeps you hidden so long as you’re inside the tent.”

“Why don’t you use it for yourself?”

“They can smell my humanity,” Lionel explained. “It wouldn’t work.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small pendant. Removing it from his neck, he tossed it to me. I caught it and examined it in my hands.

The pendant was made out of a dull gray cobalt crudely shaped into a flower. It was ugly, old, and worn, but clearly cared for.

“What is this?” I asked.

“A lily flower. It is the symbol of a holy order, one nearly extinct. I may be the only one left.”

Stolen novel; please report.

I tossed the flower back to Lionel. He caught it and turned it over in his hand, a sad glint in his eyes, before he put it back on and tucked it under his shirt.

“The Knights Mortalis,” he said. “We remember the early days of the Empire. A time before it was the Empire, a time when the House Lineamortis was just a local Duchal house. We remember our sacred duty, even if others have forgotten it.”

Lionel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He exhaled, his breath fogging in the air. He opened his eyes and smiled. “You should be going back to sleep.”

With that, he stood up and drew his sword. The steel blade glinted in the moonlight as it cut through the night air.

The next thing I knew, it was morning, and I was back in my tent. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, unsure if what I’d seen had been a dream or not. I stumbled out to the fire, which had long burned to cinders and ash. Lionel was sitting at the same place as before, cleaning his blade.

I opened my mouth to ask a question but decided against it.

“Morning,” I muttered, before walking back to my tent to wake Ripper. I poked her until she woke up. As she helped me tear down our tent, I considered telling her about what Lionel had told me last night, but what would that accomplish? Ripper would just stay up, on guard, and charge at the first undead she saw, probably getting herself killed.

I knew that I didn’t want Ripper dead, so I shut my mouth and didn’t say a word. Besides, we weren’t far from Wolfwood.

—

As we went over the top of a grassy knoll, the town of Wolfwood came into view. We were far away, over two hours’ walk, but I could see smoke rising from chimneys and began to get the distinctive feel that we were approaching civilization. Now, all that was between us and Wolfwood was farmland.

“There she is,” Lionel said, “Wolfwood. A small town on the edge of human civilization, if you can call it that.”

“Call what that?” Ripper asked. “A small town, or human civilization?” Lionel didn’t answer, but I saw a small smile creep onto his lips. “Which one is it?” Ripper asked again, but Lionel stayed silent.

Drawing closer, more of Wolfwood came into view. Tucked into the edge of the forest, it was a small but dense and bustling town. A wooden wall wrapped around the edges of it, short enough that buildings were visible over the edge, but tall enough to keep anything…unwanted…out. Farmers worked the fields and I could see workers repairing or improving the walls.

“This is Republican territory,” Lionel said, “so keep your mouths shut and don’t say anything that could get us killed. If anyone asks you anything, defer them to me.”

Ripper and I nodded.

“Good,” Lionel said. “They know me around here, so just act like scared tourists and you’ll do fine.”

We nodded again, a bit harder this time.

—

Predictably, we couldn’t just waltz into Wolfwood. We were stopped at the gate by two guards. They were dressed in padded armor with metal plates sewn into it and carried halberds. Their outfits clearly weren’t uniforms and looked as if they had been thrown together from what was lying around rather than suits of professional armor.

“Hoy, Lionel,” the guard on our left said, his posture relaxing as he laid his halberd back against the wall. The other guard didn’t ease up the same way. “It’s okay,” the left guard said, “he’s a good friend of mine.”

“Durinel,” Lionel said, nodding to the left guard. “Stuck you on guard duty? Who’s the new guy?” He gestured to the other guard.

Durinel took off his helmet and laid it down on the ground. He was a large man, not fat, but he carried himself with a particular strength and power that came with size. He was approaching middle age, with the beginnings of gray hairs beginning to sprout amongst the black hairs on his chin and on his sideburns. His skin was the color of bronze and it shone slightly with sweat. The other guard shot him a look as he sat down on a stool. “This is Etwari,” Durinel explained, gesturing to the other guard, “he’s new.”

Etwari, like Durinel, was tall, being just an inch or two taller than Lionel. But unlike Durinel, he was thin and looked almost frail. His armor was obviously a bit big for him and hung off of his body, making him look even skinnier.

“I can’t believe they’re speaking goblin,” Ripper whispered, leaning over to me.

I nodded and said, “Lionel had said they would.” To tell you the truth, I was surprised as well. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Lionel…well, thinking about it, it was that I didn’t trust Lionel. That was exactly it.

“Who’re these two?” Durinel said, casually trying to push down the point of Etwari’s weapon.

“Regulations say we have to interrogate possible spies,” Etwari growled, more to Durinel than to us.

“They’re tourists,” Lionel said, ignoring Etwari. “They hired me to guide them a year in advance and weren’t too deterred by the civil war.”

“Tourists, huh?” Durinel said, scratching the stubble at his chin.

“Go on,” Lionel said to us, “introduce yourselves.”

“Name, residence, and occupation!” wailed Etwari. Durinel prodded him in the stomach but didn’t say anything.

“I’m Quick,” I said. “I’m a locksmith from Hauvsadt.”

“My name is Ripper,” Ripper said. “I’m from Hauvsadt too, and I’m a town guard, like you guys.”

Durinel chuckled and Etwari’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He started to say, “Military personnel aren’t—” but Durinel put a large hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

“Let them through.”

The younger man looked up at Durinel and saw that any protestations were pointless, so he just sighed and waved us through. Lionel gave a casual salute to Durinel, who returned it.

“Not bad,” Lionel said as soon as we were out of earshot of the guards, “we’ll make spies out of you yet.”