Chapter 46) Killing time. Or, Night of the living dead.

So what is happening here?

I moved a bit away from the area and had a seat on the edge of a dried out fountain while I thought things through.

More people had come through the gate, either other Trainees over the weeks I had been making my new dungeon, or something the Liche had done to the gate had messed it up to bring other people this way.

The Princess had taken over the city after the Liche left and was putting people to work digging a hole through the Barricade and building a framework to get them up high enough to remove one of the light up symbols that kept the undead from getting near the wall.

If removing the Onk let the undead walk through the hole that was being dug… then they were freed from their curse, right?

Isn’t that a good thing? I mean the whole forced labor thing was bad, really bad since they looked to be working people as they starved and then killing them to get them healthy enough to get back to work, but once it was safe for the undead to walk out and then fall apart into a pile of bones, the whole enslavement and work cape forced labor thing would be over.

And everyone who had been trapped here for a couple of hundred or so years as the walking dead would be free…

No matter how messed up this was, it would end sometime soon, and help a lot of people when it did.

…but it’s still wrong.

…Isn’t it?

I suppose before I spend any more time sitting here thinking in circles about if I should try to do something, I should first figure out if I can do something. And I should ask around to make sure I knew what exactly was going on.

So I went looking for someone to talk to and found several someones busily tearing down some of the half dead vines growing over an old building.

There were a few undead that were all dried up people, as well as a bunch of walking skeletons, some of them rather small.

Undead children.

...and they were all talking about how much more work they had to do to restore their home, and arguing about fixing up the restaurant part, since no one in the city ate, at least as far as the permanent inhabitants, or had any food for them to buy and serve even if they had any customers.

It seemed like these people had been members of the same family, and were dealing with their current state of existence by taking back some of what they lost their home, and were bickering between each other out of long habit.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I stopped myself just before I walked up to them and tried to claim I had been hiding in a basement ever since I woke up from their dream.

How exactly was I going to do that? As far as I knew I still didn’t have a voice as a skeleton.

Hello? Can any of you hear me?

The group continued their work, confirming that I still didn't have a voice. What the heck? How does this work anyways? How come they get voices and I don't?

I guess I have to try to speak with the one person who knew me and could try to figure out what I wanted to know. The only thing is I would have to wait until the morning for him to show up, and deal with the dozen or so dead people waiting to grab anyone who showed up from the Portal.

Especially the one guy they knew would be showing up right at dawn.

Now I just had to kill about twenty two hours until the next dawn and hope Osalor didn’t come around while I was out.

One thing about the undead was they didn't get tired, or sleep. Walking around the town I saw undead not only tearing down the dead plants, but weeding, watering, and tending patches and big planters of the plants that looked to be in the best shape.

They were also collecting the rubble from damaged buildings and statues. Sometimes hauling the wreckage away, other times setting out the broken bits and pieces as they worked on figuring out which bits had once been connected to each other.

Almost like they were planning on staying here, not going for a last walk outside of the city.

One of the dead folk working on the fallen remains of the three story tall fallen statue called at me. “Hey, you! We could use a hand over here.”

I didn’t have much of anything else to do, so why not?

A group of four of them including one of those giant dead guys like the ones who had been carrying the fake Liche around on his throne were carrying over what looked like a large stone elbow over to where the rest of an arm holding up a rolled up paper was laid out.

They were taking it slow since they were strong enough to carry it, but so light that it was easy to lose control of it if someone lost their grip.

Too bad I couldn’t tell them about the wrap your bony hands in leather cording trick.

After we got the elbow in place, the guy in charge thanked me and gave me a curious tilt of his head when I just nodded in return.

“Huh. Any chance you could stick around? We can always use more help?”

I shrugged and pitched in, but the one guy kept trying to get me into a conversation. "You got a name, I'm Laudis."

With a shrug, I pointed at my mouth and then shook my head.

He seemed confused, then “Oh dam. You were silent before you died?”

Sure, that works. I nodded.

Laudis filched. “Sorry. I was thinking you were one of the screamers that finally got tired of throwing themselves off of a building or walking into the light over at that dammed big wall. I hate it when the sun comes up and they all revive again and do the screaming thing.”

The big boned guy laughed, “It’s worse when they all start falling and shattering a few minutes later. I swear my old neighbor is like a water wheel. Scream, run up the steps of the apartment, then a slap and clattering of bones. If I still slept I could use him to wake up.”

Oh. I guess that’s why me and the boys never ran out of skeletons to beat up. The undead are a renewable resource.

I held up my hand to get their attention, when they stopped joking and looked at me, I swept my hand slowly around us at the bits of the organized broken statue and then slowly turned my hands outward while shrugging."

Laudis puzzled it out. “Are you asking why?”

I nodded. He snorted.

“Revenge.” he seemed to savor the word. “That great damned hero got betrayed by the high and mighty king and then decided to kill everyone in the whole damned city, and then let it go to poop.”

My word, not his.

“I was… am proud of my city, and so before I go for my last walk, once it's possible, I want to restore as much of the damage that the fornicating liche did to her as I can. That's my way of hitting him back, undoing as much of what he did as I can."

He looked out over the plaza. “And besides… one day people, living people will come here. I want them to see what we once were, I want them to remember us at our best.”

“...it’s what keeps me from starting each day with a scream and going to say good morning to the cobblestones face first.”