“Sindara! What is this madness!?” Hadic yelled.
Sindara continued muttering to herself, her eyes blazing like the fire before her.
Ryder glanced at the door they came from, he turned to make a run for it but corpses rose in front of him, blocking the path.
Sindara ceased her conjuring and held onto Hadic. “It’s beautiful, my dear,” she pressed her cheek against Hadic’s and stared at the hobbling undead. “After months of going into these dungeons, we finished it.”
Hadic’s eyes were wide and his brow was sweating, “Sin, please, this is unnatural. It defies all beliefs! You said we were finding a cure to a disease!”
Sindara laughed, “Death is a disease to us all, but I will put an end to it.”
The corpses were all at the same level of decay. Most of them contrived of dwarves and few were of humans. No evidence of physical damage was evident on them, except for the ones whose muscles have rotted from their limbs.
They were all still, mindlessly gazing at the four flesh-havers in the middle of the chamber, slowly swaying or heaving with the stagnant air. Most of the undead stood on their feet, but some lay on their knees or were completely immobile, mouths agape with eyes ever following.
Hadic was shaking his head, “These are not immortal men! These are—”
“—Husks,” Ryder said, stepping toward the crowd.
Ryder stepped an arm’s reach away from one, examining its eye contact and physicality.
Sindara stared lovingly at Ryder, “At least someone is thankful for my creations.” Shadows trailed from her fingers and hovered over a nearby undead. A rotten dwarf stumbled close to Hadic, reaching toward him.
He sliced the dwarf’s arm, falling loose, and hanging by a tendon.
A mass of wails and cries echoed through the chamber, as the undead became seemingly infuriated and slowly hobbled toward the group.
While Ryder was examining the one, its skeletal fingers grasped his chainmail.
Ryder stepped back and Durge instantly shoved the corpse back into the crowd; rings from his mail clanged against the stone floor.
“Don’t hurt them!” Sindara was in a frenzy, trying to control the ones that drew closer and recasting her original incantation.
Hadic was slicing any who came near. The undead fell easily, but always rose once again.
Ryder was looking at the doorway again, the path to safety becoming more and more flooded by the rising dead.
“We have to leave!” he yelled.
The earth’s quaking became more frequent and the stone surrounding them began to shift.
Hadic tried pulling Sindara but she refused to leave. She pushed herself off of him, and projected the glyphs onto the walls again.
Durge shoved the undead back, slowly making a path toward the door, using his sword as a barrier.
Ryder was dodging the grasps made from the reanimated, careful not to cut himself on their protruding shards of bone and their blackened teeth.
He swung his metal lantern at one and the corpse stepped back, avoiding it.
Ryder thought to himself, Why would they dodge it? They’re not evading Hadic’s sword or Durge’s shoves. Is this one smarter? Are they learning to fight? Is it flame? Is it-
Ryder swung the lantern again in a sweeping motion and a wall of undead stepped backwards.
“It’s the candle!” Ryder shouted.
The candle was dim and casted no light, but the faint flame inside was green and pale flickering runes glowed on all sides of it.
The other three saw Ryder making a path toward the door, keeping the once-slain at bay.
Durge quickly followed him, shoving any who didn’t step back far enough.
Sindara bore her teeth and her eyes twitched when she saw Ryder’s lantern, “You did this! You fucking packmules!” she screamed.
Chunks of stone from the walls and ceiling came loose and fell to the ground, crushing some of the undead.
The path between the escaping duo and the brazier was swarmed.
Hadic continued to slice, slash, and shove the undead, almost creating a barrier around Sindara with the bodies until a block of stone shifted from above and landed on top of him.
A cloud of dust filled the vast space and the blood-curdling screams of Sindara pierced the ears of all. The brazier grew brighter, melting its iron stand and spilling onto the stone ground, encircling the sorcerer. She grasped Hadic’s bloody hand that jutted from underneath the stone as she repeatedly begged and pleaded until her screams faded into obscurity.
Durge was unable to close the door behind them; the undead flooded inside.
Slipping on the researcher’s parchments, Ryder threw a spark from his flint striker, and the entire room was engulfed in flames. The barrier of fire didn’t halt the waves of the cursed; and like a candle to a wax figurine, the scraps of flesh oozed off the dead, leaving only bone.
Ryder and Durge shut the door to the magical study and took a deep breath as the blazing corpses battered the door.
“We have to pull down the bookshelves!” Ryder insisted.
“Why!? They’ll just be cleaned up when we leave!”
“Precisely!” Ryder began pulling down the thick wooden shelves and spreading the shimmering books across the floor.
The relentless pounding was concaving the door that Durge was pressed against.
“Open it and run to me when I say!” Ryder commanded.
Durge gritted his teeth while sweat dripped off his nose.
Ryder opened the empty living quarters' door and gazed longingly at the black dragon book on the floor.
“When!?” Durge shouted.
“Now!”
The door burst open and the undead shambled their way into the room, tripping over loose books and fallen shelves. A wall of smoke pressed against the magical doorway, clouding the previous room.
“Get out!” Durge said.
“Not until it’s full!” Ryder exclaimed, holding out his lantern to ward off the husks.
Once the room was full, Ryder took his foot out and the doors simultaneously shut. The room shook violently as it tried to organize itself from the overwhelming chaos. The sounds of bones shattering and wood crashing escaped from underneath the door along with black ichor.
Ryder and Durge escaped through the living area and the sounds of bodies being crushed and doors constantly slamming themselves echoed into the entrance hall.
Daylight shone through the hall, revealing the quivering support beams.
Durge was the first to escape by shoulder bashing the door, followed closely by Ryder who tumbled onto the gravel entrance. A plume of dust and debris flew out from the ruins, covering the duo and floating down the Catefur River.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
They both coughed relentlessly and rubbed their eyes when they crawled toward the edge of the cloud. Ryder looked into the tunnel but the entrance collapsed.
Eventually, the quakes stopped and the dust settled, leaving the two boys gasping for air and room to think.
“What happened back there!? First I see those corpses stand up and then they’re trying to kill us! And I couldn’t find Hadic once everything started collapsing!
Ryder stared off into the forest on the other side of the river. “I don’t know what Hadic did but he… he provoked them or Sindara’s spell was ruined because of…” he looked at his lantern, the green flame still flickering.
“Shit…” Durge rested his head against the entrance. “How’d you know that wizard room would shut when they were all in there?” he asked.
Ryder closed his eyes, “I just figured- because they’re not living, right?”
“Huh.” Durge sighed aloud, “Thank the Family it’s all over.”
Ryder opened his eyes to the bright blue sky; puffy clouds and songful birds flew ahead. It felt as if the adventure never happened. He tapped the book that was in his satchel and smiled.
“35 gold when we get back,” Ryder said.
“An even split,” Durge added.
Ryder chuckled, “We’ll have to use silver if that’s the case.”
Durge and Ryder walked along the riverbank until they were far enough away to ensure nothing would come out of the ruins. There they refreshed themselves, refilled waterskins, and enjoyed the tranquil sounds of the rushing current and the swaying trees.
Ryder laid down, “Four days with those people. And now…”
“We won’t ever have to again,” Durge said with a smirk.
Ryder groaned, holding his head. His brain caught up with him, and while he was dormant, his thoughts began flooding in. Sindara’s magic? Raising the dead? Arkao? F.C.? Scratches on my arms and legs. My chainmail has a hole in it. Durge is okay. Pay. Guild Hall. 35. Rose.
“Shit! What are we supposed to say when we turn in our quest!?” Ryder asked. “Sindara was the fucking party leader!”
Durge shrugged, “I’m sure it happens in this line of work all the time. They made us give our next of kin after all.”
Ryder stood up, pacing, “But she never told us what would happen if one of us dies! And what happens to our rank and does the pay still get distributed or is their pay taken out for the funeral costs or—”
“Why do all your thoughts eat at you when you can finally rest? You think too much,” Durge said.
“Someone has to!”
“We’ll tell your lover the truth and give her the book. And if we get penalized because of those fucking scum, then…” Durge shrugged again. “We’ll find something to do that doesn’t almost kill us.”
Ryder shook his head when he saw the lantern at his side, “All because of this fucking thing,” he said before throwing it into the river.
“Hey! That was mine!”
“It has to be cursed at this point. And it was someone else’s before you stole it.”
It was early afternoon when they escaped Rock Hollow and it was late evening when they camped in the forest.
“Their camping supplies are still by the entrance,” Ryder said.
Durge shook his head, “I’d rather not think about the fluids that have been spilled on it. We’ll get our own when we get back.”
Ryder tilted his head, “You still want to quest?”
Durge thought for a moment, “35 pearls is a lot, but I’m not joining anyone else’s group for a while. If all quests are just fetching books in dusty caverns, we can do it with ease by ourselves.”
Ryder agreed, snuggling against a tree with the book at his side until he eventually fell asleep.
Ryder was the first to wake. The weather was hot but breezy like the day before. He felt gross and needed a wash again; food was low, but the journey back to Maria wouldn’t be long. He opened the researcher’s journal as he let Durge sleep soundly.
The text was difficult to read, not only was the handwriting terrible but so was the sentence structure. The researcher couldn’t finish a sentence before a new tangent filled its place with doodles of runes and explanations. Ryder understood some sections and softly muttered them to himself.
“Before the Era of Rebirth, the Era of Panic ruled all. 50 years before the end, we documented. Mages like Arkao abundant, obsessed with the dead. Living forever in their dwelling. Arkao was different. Secluded not, but befriended. A dwarven retreat he hosted. A dwarven army he would lead. Not of blood but of bone. Dead they were, 102 counted. Arkao’s body we have found here. Taken to the Academy it shall be, the others we shall leave. Further excavation of necrotic amplifiers needed.”
“Do you ever read silently to yourself?” Durge groaned.
“Apologies, I thought you slept through everything.”
“I thought I did too. Now I feel like I open my eyes to every twig snap and bird chirp.”
“Maybe if I read to you, you’ll be able to fall back asleep,” Ryder smirked.
Durge laughed, “Maybe if you read one more time, I’m throwing that book at your head.”
“Well then let’s make our way to Maria,” Ryder suggested. “We can get there in three more days if we’re fast enough.”
Durge glared at him, “It’d be faster if we had a horse.”
Ryder rolled his eyes and started walking, followed soon enough by Durge.
Through familiar oak and cypress trees and entangling brambles and ferns, they made an arduous journey onto the red road again. The evening was fast approaching with no moon in sight, the only light that came was from the stars that shone above.
“We can look for Kincaid if you want, Rye.”
Ryder smiled, “We’re going to be near the campsite by tomorrow.”
“Well then let’s bed for the night and search for him bright and early,” Durge said.
They rested peacefully as they could out in the wilderness. They were getting used to it, but the lack of comfort, a bath, and fresh food was irritating them.
Two more days to go before Ryder and Durge reached Maria, the duo was on the clay road again and was just south of Kincaid’s camp.
“It’s been a moon since Locria fell,” Ryder said.
Durge didn’t respond but hummed in agreement.
“Do you think Maria will ever rebuild it?” Ryder asked.
“Probably. It’s the richest county in the Empire.”
“You’re right. Maybe she’s not rebuilding it right now because she’s afraid of a raid.”
Durge nodded, “Rodin told me they closed the gates after the first wave of Locrians rushed into the city.”
Late afternoon came and the two friends spotted debris along the road. The three wagons that they knew of were not what they remembered. One was scorched and broken while the other two were stripped of their parts. The canvas was taken, the wheels were missing, and any nail or board left on the road was because it was damaged in some way.
“This must’ve been it,” Ryder said. “Damn those looters.”
Durge surveyed the area. No bodies or arrows were in sight.
Ryder eagerly looked into the forest while Durge casually strolled along the road.
The two bandits they slew were missing, the foliage looked disturbed but that was the only part that looked unordinary.
“They must’ve picked up their friends!” Durge exclaimed to the distant Ryder. “Or someone did,” he muttered to himself.
Any observer would see the scurrying Ryder and call him frantic, but he was logically combing the forests. He dug through his memories and tried to pinpoint where they were before Kincaid was pierced with arrows.
He found the tree where the horse was tied, the foliage around the area was flattened, and a stress mark was laid across the trunk of the tree. He could faintly see drops of blood but the thick underbrush made it hard to focus on anything.
Ryder followed the likely steps and trails Kincaid would’ve taken. He was deep in the forest and out of earshot from Durge. As Ryder continued, he noticed arrow punctures in the trees and sword slashes on the bark.
He followed the trail until an object was glistening from behind a tree. Silver in color and dazzling in his eyes, it was Kincaid’s helmet.
It was heavy and too large for Ryder, as well as the fact it was meant for no human to wear. The beast’s helmet had the signature covering for a muzzle that could raise and lower, as well as steel ears adorned at the top of it.
Ryder grabbed the helmet and looked yonder into the forest, but nothing else was seen. When returning to Durge, he felt defeated but secretly pleased that he didn’t find Kincaid’s body stripped and buzzing with flies.
“You found the ol’ Captain’s helmet?” Durge said.
Ryder handed it to him, “It’ll fit you more than me.”
“It wasn’t designed for the likes of us. I’m afraid he’ll come stomping out of those woods and grabbing me by the ears if he saw me with this, but alright,” Durge put on the helmet, it felt snug but comfortable.
“Hey! It stinks like wet dog in here!” Durge said, his voice reverberating.
“Now all you need is plate armor to match it,” Ryder laughed.
Durge lifted the muzzle piece and tried looking down at his outfit, “Does a simple tunic not suffice?” he laughed and put the helmet in his spacious rucksack.
“I would’ve preferred his greatsword but it’s better than nothing,” Durge said. “You satisfied?”
Ryder clicked his tongue and looked back into the forestry, “I guess I’ll have to be.”
They continued walking northward; past the great scorch mark in the road, past the endless rows of trees, past the banners that flapped in the wind, eventually arriving at the gates of Maria two days later.
In the evening light, they walked through the busy cobbled streets. Shops were closing and most of the folks were headed home. The taverns were getting louder as guards set fire to the metal braziers around the city.
“Can’t I just keep the book for another day, it isn’t due for a month!” Ryder said.
“And sleep where, Sir Scholar? We don’t have a damn single coin,” Durge said.
Ryder groaned, “You’re right. We’re going to have to find a bed too.”
As they walked through the market district they passed a lively building with near-naked people standing outside and conversing with their clients.
Durge stopped in his tracks, “Heyyy, brothels have beds.”
“And disease! Let’s get to the Hall first,” Ryder said, pushing Durge.
Once they reached the Guild Hall, they noticed it was lively inside as well; it was filled with adventurers and even louder than the taverns down the street. The tables were full of cheering and singing while heavily armed individuals peered from the balcony above.
The scaly barkeep was constantly filling tankards until his kegs ran dry, and the chef brought out light meals for all who ordered. Ryder noticed the shop was still closed but he assumed that inebriated customers aren’t the best clientele this late at night.
Durge immediately went for the bar as Ryder looked at the front desk. He saw Rose there asleep, resting on her hand. He approached the desk but didn’t know how to wake her up.
If it was Durge I’d just grab his hand and have his head fall but I’m not going to touch a stranger. I could slam the book. Gently talk to her. Wait for another clerk or-
Her eyes slowly opened until she noticed the figure in front of her and promptly sat straight in her chair, “Hi, how can I- Ryder!” she gleamed once she realized it was him.
“I’m here to turn in that quest,” Ryder said confidently, holding out the leather book.
“You finished it! Great job! Just give me a second to find our copy of the quest note.” Rose went to the backroom.
Durge arrived at the front counter with two mugs of ale. “Everything alright?” he said with a foam mustache.
“What- how’d you?”
“They’re free for adventurers, can you believe it!?”
“Hope they have a limit for the likes of you,” Ryder said, taking a sip from the frothing tankard.
Rose returned with a copy of the quest, smiling at Durge.
She muttered to herself when reading the note, “Alrighty, you recovered a leather-bound book with the initials F.C. on it, and it talks about Arkao the mage,” Rose opened the book and quickly flew through the pages. “And retrieve undamaged as well,” she peered over the journal, it looked a little worn but she shrugged.
“The party leader was listed as Sindara and the other members being Hadic, Durge, and Ryder,” she looked up from the counter, “Where’s the other two?”