The Story of the Den - Chapter 12 Posted

[Lady_Malice]

This is the original Story of the Den that I wrote for the forums years ago. I have been making some revisions, but the story itself is the same. I will be updating one chapter at a time until I've caught up, then continue the story from where I left off in the past.

Table of Contents

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12

[Lady_Malice]

Prologue

 There is an old story that our world is like a wolf’s den. It protects and provides everything for its wild children and is also incredibly dangerous to those not born from such wilderness. Man however, is an adept creature and has attempted to settle in the wild and beautiful lands of the den.

 On the continent Sheol within the Kingdom of Cardesnia lay the Dukedom Pylos. At its heart was the city of Lucern where the Duke and Duchess resided. Two healthy children were born in the house of the Duke. A little boy named Wolf and his older sister by three turns of the seasons, Lady. As the children grew they did their best to listen to their parents and understand the nature of their world. Lady took to the sword like her father and did her very best to imitate him, while little Wolf busied himself with the many secrets held within the books of the great library. However, as they grew, strange things began to happen in the lands of Sheol.

 Reports first came to the castle of miners encountering hostile creatures, emerging from the stone deep within the mineshafts and attacking without prejudice. Shortly thereafter, the giant spiders in the deep forests, never before having paid any attention to travelers within, began to attack when the night fell upon the land. These stories, while alarming, were dismissed as tavern lore.

 The dukedom was forced to recognize its troubles as tragedy struck a small village to the south. Initial claims reported the recently deceased rising from the earth, searching out those of the living and devouring them. When scouting parties failed to report back from their investigations, the Duke himself left the kingdom to travel to the village with his best men. What they found was a devastated village, all of its inhabitants missing. The signs of fighting were all around them, but not a single being, living or dead, was left behind.

 The Duke and his men returned home troubled, but found no time to rest. That same night a scout arrived to inform them of another village still under attack. The Duke and his men left at once, but none of them were prepared for what they would face.
The very villagers that they had come to rescue set upon them with mindless anger. Though the hoard was repelled, there was little they could do to console the surviving villagers who had witnessed the dead walk among them, seeking their lives for their own nourishment.

 The Duke’s advisor, Sigurther, believed that a disease must be spreading across Sheol, and no person was safe from its effects. The Duke ordered his armies to lend support to settlements near the inflicted lands, and to protect them from whatever came through. Doctors issued quarantines and sought out possible cures for those who were showing signs of infection, but to no avail. The Duke’s very best engineers spent their days designing and building massive walls around the surrounding villages and Lucern, in a desperate effort to protect its people from a seemingly unyielding force. All within the Kingdom came together in this grave time.

 Despite their efforts, the doctors could not find a cure for the disease, which turned the skin green and created an insatiable hunger for flesh within the victim. Many of the infected were thrown into the dungeons and kept alive, in hope that someday they could be returned to normal. And for a short time the Dukedom survived.

 Then the day came, when the orchestrator of this evil made itself known to Sheol.

 The evil called itself Mardok and promised to bring the world back to its origin, wiping humanity clean from the lands. Heroes rose and legends were built as the first people tried to resist the advancing monsters. However, as more and more fought and lost, more creatures were born, strengthening the enemy masses. The people’s saving grace remained the walls, which held the creatures at bay.

 Mardok and his sorcerers began to dabble in the forgotten lore, thought to have been lost to the people of this realm. Within that lore he found the Nether, and soon new and ferocious demons rose into the world.

 Humanity was not blind to these actions, as the Duke’s mages used their magic to observe the efforts of this evil. Diamond enforced weapons and armor were forged from deep within the oldest mines, and great engines of war were constructed using the newly discovered Redstone. New and more powerful defenses were placed along the city’s battlements, and traps once thought too dangerous for use became common.

 Knowing that he had to defend his city, the Duke said his goodbyes to his wife and two children. Lady was fast approaching adulthood, but had two turns of the seasons to go, while Wolf, who was still a pup, seemed all too aware of the events that had taken place around him, showing maturity far past his years. The Duke gave his final goodbyes, encouraging them to remain strong.

 The battle lasted nearly a fortnight, but in the end it seemed that Mardok’s forces would lose. The Duke’s gamble had paid off, as the wall’s defenses proved too much for the monsters to penetrate, even for the hissing assassins. But when all seemed over, a new creature emerged from the depths of the monster ranks. In the dead of night, the silent shadow creatures approached the wall, and began to tear it apart, brick by brick, as though it were made of children’s blocks. While the Duke and his men rested, the hole was made, and the silent shadows made their way to the camps of the Duke, unseen by sentries on the wall.

 The entire kingdom mourned the loss of their Duke and warriors who were lost in a single night. The golden crown was passed to the Duchess, who had little time to console her children and grieve over the passing of her husband. Mardok’s portal grew in power, and more strange creatures emerged at a higher rate. New horrors were met as weightless monstrosities floated over cities and set fire to everything sight, their horrible wails heard for miles upon end. Then the shrill shrieks of the half decayed pigs that walked upon two feet devastated everything in sight.

 It seemed that all was lost until the diamond was put against the menacing portals to the Nether. It was discovered that the very same diamond that was forged for weapons and armor could be used to break through the almost indestructible stone of the portals. Miners banned together with warriors and set out to seek out all the portals, using the suns energy as cover. Victory was again in sight.

 However, Mardok had yet to field his strongest forces, and lashed out an attack at the heart of the Dukedom. Using the same monsters which had pierced the wall, a hole was made into the cells of those who were infected with the green disease and all chaos broke loose. Using this distraction the monster forces managed to open one more portal sending a hoard of the squealing dead pig-men loose inside of the castle.

 The Duke’s children were hidden in a trap door under the throne while their mother and the knights defended them. When the night was over, the monster ranks retreated wounded, but had managed to deal a near fatal injury to the people. Their Duchess’s life had been taken from them.

 And the eldest child’s body shook in fear and anger as the golden crown was placed upon her brow.

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[Sir Whiteheart]

It's so good to see that you're bringing this back!!!!!!!!!

[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 1

 Lady looked at the people surrounding her, nobles, servants, wise men and children, and wanted to protect them. She hadn’t been the child prepped for the throne, which had always been meant for her brother, but it had never bothered her either, being second. She had wanted other things with her life, and now those dreams seemed like faded pebbles on a sweeping river bed, no longer within her grasp. Now she had no choice but to take the seat of power, Wolf being far too young. Another four turns of the seasons would pass before he was of age, though Lady herself was still another full turn herself.

 She held her head high as memories of her father poured in. It held her steady as the anxiety of her new overbearing responsibilities began to build up, just before her first decree. Pylos would become a military state. All citizens were to receive training in the arts of the sword, including those who were of age, though they may still seem as children in the eyes of many. The right to bear arms became a necessity, and the skills to work metal an everyday necessity. The people, fearful of the horrors beyond, had little arguments to the change.

 After her official crowning, Lady met with her brother in private. Putting her hands on his shoulders she whispered. “I have a special task for you. The old books, from the times long forgotten, you need to read them and find us hope. Diamond swords and arrows only do us so much good. In our bedtime stories there were legends of enchanted potions and magical weapons. We both know that they have some truth to them. Find them for us, and make us remember the powers of the old gods.” Wolf’s eyes widened at such an opportunity, he had never been allowed to read from the closed off section of the grand library. Lady’s hand took his, and a rusty key found itself in his grasp. Nodding with more excitement, he ran off at once, eager to begin.

 Lady was envious as she watched her brother run off, but there was no time to worry about her own happiness. Squaring her shoulders, she turned back to the court to attend her first council, less than eager to make more decisions on matters which were above her head. She needed her mother’s patience and reasoning now. After all, she was just a child still, a young mind ready for the molding of manipulation. At least she had a colleague there who supported and faithfully advised her. It was none other than Sigurther, her father’s most trusted advisor, who met her and walked with her in silence to her first council meeting.

 Lady listened and did her best to manage the issues at hand. The mining and manufacturing of Redstone was important, but so was the technology behind what could be used with it, and manpower was limited. She decided to divide the court so that all matters at hand would receive proper attention, dedicating the largest portion to the inventions of new technologies. Few could disagree with the notion of new weapons to protect people from monsters. However, all protested in her idea of continuing her personal combat training, wishing that she would give up the sword. Despite their objections, none could persuade her otherwise, and so the Master of Arms, her father’s faithful advisor, was given the responsibility to properly teach the Duchess.

 She would not let her people fight while she did nothing, and perhaps there was something more in it than that. The darkness had receded for now, but was not gone. It would eventually return far more powerful than before and its recession could only mean the strengthening of its forces. Mardok’s evil had carved itself a place in her mind. The idea of the man brought out nightmares from the deepest recesses of her psyche, but little by little her thoughts isolated those fears, converting them into targets to be slain. He was a man. A powerful man, but a man none the less. And all men could be overpowered, defeated, killed. And that kept Lady going.

 Soon enough Lady found herself standing atop of the outer wall just past nightfall, a bow in her hands as she stared down at her target.

 “Your arm is too stiff, bend it a little,” suggested Sigurther, while his hands adjusted her posture appropriately. The torches upon the battlements had been extinguished, allowing Lady’s eyes to adjust to night’s darkness. Lady could see the ambling figure in the darkness and waited for the most opportune moment.

 Her head was a swirl of mixed emotions. She was no stranger to the bow, having gone with her father hunting in the woods more than once. However, this was different. That was a man down there, turned with the illness, and had been an important part of someone’s life in the past. There still was no cure for the sickness and she became all too aware of the feel of the bow in her hands. For the first time in her life she was about to end a life, a life that had once been human. He could have had a family, or perhaps have been there on her day of birth, or have known her parents. He could have been many things at one point, but that was all taken away from him with the sickness. Like her and her brother, whatever destinies he once had it would be different now. She knew there was no honor or glory in this, only a hope to end the suffering of the individual’s soul.

 Eyeing the unaware individual below her, she swallowed back the lump in her throat.

 “Remember to breathe out when you take the shot, to steady your aim.”

 A curt nod was given by Lady who had yet to make her choice to let go of the string.

 “As he can never go back… neither can I.” Lady’s short prayer was said as she released the string. The sound of the arrow cut through the darkness and hit its indented target without error. Sigurther smiled, pleased with the quality of the shot.

 But Lady’s eyes held nothing in them.

 Far away, in a land never seen by those of the Kingdom, Mardok watched the event of the little Duchess’s kill and frowned. The strength to bear the weight of such things at her age was potentially troublesome in his eyes. It seemed he had to get rid himself of the entire family line after all. With a wave of his hand a servant approached. He whispered in its ear before it scurried off to do its master’s biddings. Rising from his obsidian throne, Mardok approached a dark marble pedestal, picking up a softly glowing arrow upon its surface.

 “I was hoping to save you for a more worthy target,” he whispered to the arrow, “but I need to instill these people with fear should I ever be able to conquer them.” When the familiar rattle-clank of bones approached his ears he spoke aloud, taking his thumb and running it along the sharpened edge of a blackened arrowhead. “I have a special task for you, my general, as you are the only one I would trust with such a mission. You are to pierce the little Duchess with this.” He held the arrow high, its glow emanating a purple hue on the tiled floor.

 The empty eye sockets stared blankly at its creator, but he could understand even if there was no sound to communicate between them. “Kill her if you can, but it is not required. Even should the shot fail to fatally would her, the arrow’s power will do the rest.”

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[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 2

 Time continued to pass, and Lady did her best to keep her promise. She personally led every military engagement along the front, never missing a single skirmish and never asking her solders to do anything that she herself could not do. She always had the making of a great warrior, but her proficiency as a ruler did not always reach the same level of distinction. Regardless, the people held her in high regard and waited patiently for her to grow into her new role, having faith that the heavy crown would one day fit properly upon her head.  It was to be expected that the burden of responsibility would be hard to take upon at such an age when childhood was still clinging on.

 But it wasn’t a child’s whim for adventure that stole Lady from the castle for hours at a time without notice or care. It unnerved her nursemaids when she disappeared, who fretted for her safety and constantly scolded her when she came back dirty and scraped up, looking as if she had been running throughout the woods all day. Fortune had favored her and given her a tall body, which masked her age when dressed in full armor. Her hair tucked within her helm, and chest plates which hid her feminine figure, she travelled among the people without issue. No one made the connection between Lady and the lone rider who exited the city into the dangerous country side.

 The wind whistled into the iron helm and by her ears, drowning out her thoughts. The feel of her horse under the saddle made her forget her body, and in her mind she became one with her mount. They would ride faster and faster until Lady was not sure she had remembered to breathe, as if the wind in her face did it for her.  She wanted to let her hair flow freely, but dared not let her crimson locks expose her identity. She instead took satisfaction in the music sung by the gust’s resonance. The sounds of the hooves galloping on the road melted away into a quickened heartbeat that mimicked her own. She never felt more alive in her life… the absolute freedom she felt with the world melting away into a blur of colored scenery. It didn’t matter where they were; it was all a distortion of constantly changing colors.

 She sensed her steed tiring without having to check on him, and cooing into his ear, they slowed down to a trot. Having been her father’s war mount, he was very receptive to commands, and quite fond of his new rider, who constantly sought him out for companionship rather than leaving him in the small fields until next needed. But on her way back to the castle, Lady always found it difficult to stay on task. No matter where she went there were people in need; starved citizens who had been driven from their fields by the silent assassins that crept across the lands. Lady would look down to them, torn at the consequences of helping and the possibility of being discovered. A phrase began to form in her mind, one which played whenever she saw these needy people left to their own fates. “If not me, than who? If not now, then when?”

 The iron helm hid Lady from the prying eyes of the sightless general whose agents hunted the lands. They dared not enter the keep itself, and Lady left the keep infrequently for patrol, preferring to work from behind her mask. But luck did not last forever. He knew Lady’s nature, and a raid on a smaller outlying village was soon to occur, with a single rider escaping through the surrounding Pickett lines.

 Having arranged his men strategically for the best defense against the now improved weapons of the Dukedom’s men, he turned to his arachnid mount, and if there were lips still left on his face, he’d have smiled. This would be an easy assault; the woods were nearby and provided plenty of cover and time to retreat. With the clinking of bones he climbed up to his saddle, grabbing the reins and giving his men the silent orders that none could hear except through whatever perverted magic reincarnated their figures. Digging his heels into his mount, the creature climbed up the nearby tree effortlessly. And none would expect his attack from above.

 Sure enough Lady came without hesitation, her squadron in tow, eager to help the survivors. Silently the archer watched the young Duchess fight alongside her people waiting for the precise moment that would guarantee a hit. Many people were initially in his line of sight and at one point he could feel the change of the wind in his bones and had to adjust his position from atop the treetop. But he had patience, and time on his side. Lady’s armor was chainmail, the lightness necessary for movement with flexibility. Nevertheless this was no concern for the general; the arrowhead was long and slender. A bodkin arrowhead could easily pierce through such armor and carry out its purpose. Then, when Lady had turned in her saddle, giving him a perfect shot at her torso, he let the arrow fly.

 The breath escaped Lady as the arrow pierced through the chainmail and her leather undergarment. The force of the blow threw back her shoulder and the muscle in her arm convulsed, causing her to drop the spear. Lady was ignorant to the loss of weapon as she stared down at the arrow protruding from her chest, almost as if in disbelief of its presence. It had lodged in her left breast, but if it had pierced her lung or heart, she could not tell. She could not feel anything, and the pain she’d expected was absent.

 Something was wrong though as Lady’s arm on the reins dropped and her body sagged forward on her horse. She was losing consciousness and two soldiers came up to steady her. One of them calling out her name, but she was unresponsive, her eyes staring at them but not seeing. A curse was uttered by the man who was attempting to get a response from the child. He turned to the other soldier, quickly giving orders for cover as he climbed up onto lady’s saddle. Taking the reins he steadied the panicked horse while pulling Lady up against his chest with the other. Digging his heels into the mount they were off in an instant, riding to the castle as fast as her horse could carry them. The skeletons disappeared back into the forest, much to the concern of the remaining men, no longer carrying out their attack. Their task was completed; no further reason to continue the fight.

 There were bigger concerns though as men of medicine gathered around the small child who still had the arrow lodged within her chest. They had to be careful and swift, taking advantage of her unconscious state where there was little they could do to ease the pain. They didn’t know for certain if the arrow was barbed or the exact extent of the damage yet. Breaking off most of the shaft they worked quickly to remove the chainmail and undergarments, and examined the wound. “Good… see how narrow and even the wound is, it’s a puncture wound, unlikely barbed.” Remarked a surgeon who had been on many battlefields during his time in court. “I’ll prepare the needle and thread.” Dressings and hot water were prepared for the extraction of the arrow. A healer stepped up and felt around the wound and determined that it was very unlikely that the arrow had hit any vital organs; while the chainmail had not prevented the arrow from piercing Lady, it had slowed its entry, preventing the depth such a shot would have on exposed flesh. “Pull it out slowly, we don’t want it to break in her.” The surgeon said as he poised, ready to quickly sew the gap closed before precious blood was lost.

 The healer did as instructed whilst assistants held Lady down, gently extracting the arrow in anticipation to see what exactly had pierced the child. None were prepared though as her eyes shot open in a wild panic coupled with howling screams, her whole body convulsing from the movement of the arrow within her body. Assistants threw their whole body weight on her as she struggled to break free. Her eyes were white, the iris lost in whatever poison the arrow had been coated in, and her mouth began to foam, causing her to choke on her own saliva.

 “Bind her down! Don’t let her choke on her tongue!” Panic grasped the people as they attempted to control the seizures that wracked Lady’s body that was trying to bend and contort in ways that no bone structure could handle.

 “I got it!” exclaimed the healer, but his face immediately paled as he showed his results to the surgeon. It was a blackened arrowhead, made of obsidian, and there was only one type of magic that glowed with such a purple hue. Worse still, the arrowhead had chipped. A piece of it still lodged in the girl’s chest.

 “Those fiends shot her with a fragment of a nether portal?!” All eyes in the room were upon the healer with the fragment of arrow in his hands. Fear and panic swept the room before the surgeon took command of the situation. “We have to seal the wound.” There was no way to dig out the shard, it could potentially kill the girl if they opened the wound more to search for it. Watching as the nurses cleaned the wound best they could, the healer had an idea. Without a word, he quickly ran out of the room in a desperate search for someone who might be able to help.

 It was after the surgeon had sealed and dressed the wound that they had placed the feverish girl in a bed, bound so that her hands could not scratch and tear at her chest. She was turning paler by the moment as whatever darkness worked through her body caused small shivers that wracked her exhausted being. This is how Caesaris the druid found her, her condition rapidly worsening and death immanent. However, in his hand he had a small golden glowing sphere. He had been growing a cure for the green illness and had been waiting for the fruit to mature to see if it worked, but now it had to be picked before it was ready in attempt to save his young duchesses’ life.

 Working quickly, he finely cut the golden apple up and placed it into a bowl and ground it up with a pedestal. There was no way to get the girl to swallow food without fear of her chocking, but he had another way. Pouring what little juice there was in to a small flask he took out a golden spike. It had a broadened hollowed out base where medicine could be poured into it while the center was hollowed out so that medicine could flow through it and into the patient. “Someone hold her up for me.” A nursemaid hurried over and sat Lady up; her eyes were cloudy and unfocussed as she stared blankly forward, unable to see those who were around her. Without saying a word he plunged the hollowed needle into the base of her clavicle and poured what little juice there was into it. “Lay her down now, and go fetch the surgeon, he’s got another hole to sew up.”

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[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 3

 For a season Lady lay in the bed without stirring. She never spoke or responded to the voices of those she knew, or even opened her eyes with the morning sun. She was listless, and near the end of the season she fell into a fevered state, not unlike the green illness which had taken so many. She remained just functional enough to drink liquids.
When the fever broke she stirred, startling her nursemaid who had been knitting a shawl for her daughter to wear for the upcoming winter months. The nursemaid rushed to the bedside, tossing aside her wool and needles.

“Help…please…” came the desperate croak from her dried lips; her eyes were squeezed shut in pain. Without question her nursemaid sat her up slowly, helping her drink a small amount of water. Lady’s hands tentatively searched out for the bowl that was offered, grasping the wooden frame in desperation to prevent the nursemaid from taking it from her.

 “Slowly now, Lady. Don’t strain yourself.” The blanket fell from Lady’s body as she sat up, now of her own volition. The wounds upon Lady’s chest were a red mar against her pale skin, the black thread like insect legs protruding from her flesh. The sight made the woman feel uncomfortable and she pulled the blanket back up, covering her again. Lady seemed unaware as she dropped her hands down into her lap, exhausted and the water bowl empty.

 Lady attempted to look around her, but everything was a blur of colors and undistinguishable shapes. She waited for her dizziness to subside, closing her eyes again from the nauseating sight. She decided to keep her eyes shut for now and work on the rest of her body before endeavoring sight again.

 “Are you having difficulty, Lady?”

 A nod was all that was given from the girl who leaned heavily now on her nursemaid as she struggled to move her limbs. Baffled, the nursemaid attempted to coax the girl to stay in bed, who ignored all of her cautions and was determined to attempt to stand. Eventually she had to give in and help the young woman stand upon her trembling legs.

 “To my window…” Lady continued to filter out the nursemaid’s complaints as she focused on moving her limbs, which seemed more suited for sweeping floors now as they dragged along the stone floor and caught the fur rugs. Slowly and carefully the two made it to the window where the sun was sinking into the hills for the evening, but remained high enough to reach her face. A deep sigh left Lady as the warmth reached her cheeks, and she attempted again to open her eyes. Little by little she cracked her eyes open, letting the sun’s rays of light filter through her lashes and stun her vision with colors and white light. As they calmed, her eyes opened more, allowing colors to separate from one another and blurred shapes to become distinguished.

 Soon Lady could see the vast hills of her lands stretched out before her beyond the city’s walls, bathed in the setting sun’s light. She knew the terrors of the night would be upon them soon, but she still marveled in the beauty of it all. This moment should not be dreaded by people, but even now she could see those who were still outside hurrying their actions to safely tuck themselves inside. Despite the walls surrounding them, the fear remained.

 “Lady, your eyes…they look reddened from the light, let’s get you back to your bed and have a healer look at you.”

 Weary from the effort of standing for so long, Lady succumbed to the wills of her nursemaid and only nodded in agreement. She had hardly any recollection of the movement back into her bed and the time lapse between seeing her nursemaid disappear to the man now in front of her. With a candle he illuminated her face, whilst using his thumb and forefinger to hold her eyelids open, peering into her. He looked troubled, but she did not know why, things were becoming sharper now, she could see perfectly fine.

 “I pray that this is not an omen,” murmured the healer as he finished checking both eyes. “Let us hope that it is merely a side effect that will clear with time…”

 “What,” Lady managed to ask, “what is wrong?”

 The healer retrieved a mirror and handed it to her. It was strange as she stared at herself for the first time in the polished surface. Her face was pale and sickly, the vibrant color of her hair a stark contrast for her skin and hanging limply around her face. But it was her eyes that struck fear in her, the blackened rings around her eyes only emphasized the soft bright violet color that had replaced the once ocean colors of her iris. The mirror flew from her hands as she retracted from it, as though it had shown her a horrid visage.

 It would be another fortnight before Lady could move on her own again, her robes at first too heavy to bear as she went through the tedious processes of basic movement. But her will never diminished. She was permitted to have counsel attend her in her bedchambers, and she caught up on the events which had passed during her illness. Once she was determined to be of sound mind, the power was relinquished from the counsel and placed back in her hands.

 Once the entire clamor had subsided and figureheads had vanished it would be just her and Wolf keeping each other company, Wolf telling his stories of what he had been doing while she was ill and what he had found.

 Winter came and was harsh enough that even the monsters fled from the dreary blizzards that swept throughout the lands, giving Lady ample time to recover within the castle walls. But she was restless. She was not well enough to join Wolf out in the harshness of the cold, but enjoyed watching him playing outside from her tower. He made snowmen and adorned them with lumps of coal for buttons, sticks for hands, and with permission took one of the older pumpkins form harvest and carved a face into it. He had made several friends and looked to be talking to them, which brought a weary smile to Lady’s lips.

 Sigurther requested a private audience with Lady in her room following a council meeting. Even after the room had cleared he remained silent as he gathered up his thoughts. Watching Lady, who propped herself up in her bed with pillows, he wondered how to start.

 “I have never seen you look so serious, Sigurther.” Lady broke the silence, garnering a smile from the older man.

 He had been twelve turns of the seasons senior to Lady’s father. They had meet when the Duke provided aid to the Republic of Karnak, a province of the nation of Alephos during their drawn out war against the tyrant Lord Ubmras. Lady didn’t know the details of their encounter, but the Duke had offered Sigurther refuge in Pylos to start a new life, as he had lost everything in the war. And so Sigurther became a familiar face, part of Lady’s earliest memories of the castle.

 “Ah, well, I was trying to think how your mother, or even my late wife, might have started this conversation.  You know, talk about a girl’s future, becoming a woman, and all the gossip that follows. I mean, my opinion on which boys are the most charming is questionable at best, and I wouldn’t look so fine next to you trying on frilly dresses. I’m afraid I’m just not well versed on such things.”

 Lady giggled, a feat that few had accomplished as of late. Smiling at his successful banter, Sigurther continued.

 “Of course I was hoping I could find someone else to fulfil that role, but I really don’t trust anyone else’s opinion, even if they should wear a dress better than me. So, here I am, talking to you about young men and courtship.” His face betrayed his unease at the topic.

 Lady’s smile softened. “I knew it would be brought up at some point. I have thought about it at length, the strength it would provide us, the resources marrying the right ally would give.” Lady’s voice tapered off.

 Sigurther waved a hand at her. “It’s more than just strength. I wouldn’t let you wed the wealthiest lad in the kingdom if I thought he would make you miserable. I don’t need the vengeful spirits of your parents bearing down on me. I’m here to remind you of that, despite whatever pressures you might feel when the council brings it up.”

 Lady nodded with understanding and was silent a moment. “Did my parents find love for each other easily?” she inquired.

 Sigurther sat back in his chair in thought. “No, I’m afraid not. Your father was stubborn and hotheaded. It took considerable patience on your mother’s part to cool his flare-ups. It was the birth of their first child that truly bound them to one another. Through you they learned to love each other. Not perfect mind you, but I think they were one of the happier couples in court.”

 Lady smiled at the memory of her parents and tried to ignore the invasive thought of being with someone who she abhorred.
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. “You may enter,” Lady responded.

 A guard peeked his head in, “My Lady, there is a visitor for you who has traveled great distance to show you something. We hope that it pleases you. Please dress appropriately for the elements and meet us in the pasture.”

 Lady found herself bundled up in many layers of wool and blankets standing in the frozen field with a handful of people. All of which were her guards save for one man and his peculiar contraption that she was unsure of its use.

 The man claimed to be an engineer, a mathematician, but most importantly, a man of science. His difficult to pronounce name, Yrzowski, was hesitantly used as they learned that he claimed to have brought with him a technology which would be of benefit to the city. He was dressed in attire that more resembled a man of business rather than science, but none at hand complained as he began to describe the functionality of the red stone and the bundle of red candles that were marked with the label TNT.

 “Simply put, it’s a cannon, but derived from the same ingredients found within the bodies of the silent assassins, and therefore, much more powerful than any other black powder currently used.”

 “How did you ever extract that from them without complete catastrophe?” Lady asked with awe and slight fear in her voice as she shivered with a gust of wind.

 “We have our,” the man hesitated, “methods,” It was apparent that he was not quite ready to give away his secrets. “Rest assured, we can harvest quite a bit in a safe environment. This cannon can also be adjusted. By placing a certain number of TNT bundles in each segment,” he placed live TNT in each of the segments as he spoke, “you can direct the propulsive explosion to the left or right.”

 Without warning, the Man of Science pulled a lever at the base of the cannon, lighting the fuses of enough explosive mass to destroy the thickest of walls. Those assembled stepped back, while Lady and the Man of Science remained grounded. With an ear shattering fwoomp, the cannon erupted into a plume of smoke and fire, launching a single package of explosives downrange. A grand tree hundreds of yards away found itself the unfortunate recipient of the package. With a flash of light, and a second fwoomp, the tree evaporated out of existence, clearly showing the devastating power of the cannon.

 “I also have something that might be of use to your cities defenses,” the Man of Science continued, barely waiting for the attendants to regain their footing. “We have constructed a contraption that allows us to create cobblestone through smelting of magma and water, indefinitely. Cobblestone is cheap, why would this be of use? Well we apply this with a new technology called the piston, a device used to push and pull on materials.” He allowed those gathered no time to interrupt him, let alone process the information which spewed from him. “This technology has many applications. For instance, in my home city we have constructed a bridge that repairs itself when damage is dealt to it. It does this using a combination of the cobblestone generator, and the pistons. If permitted, I would like to see if I can construct your walls utilizing the same concept. In this way, if TNT is used against your walls, there will be no need to have an engineer risk their life out in the night hours to attempt to repair the bridge. The process is rather swift, allowing the repairs to be made in minutes.”

 “What supplies would be needed for this,” asked one engineer, who’s curiosity had peaked at the concept.  “I would imagine quite a lot of lava chambers would have to be redirected to the surface, and red stone and iron production increased for the purpose of the pistons main components, trenches dug under the main walls as well as an estimation of depth needed underground so that damage from the explosions above cannot interfere with the mechanics underground.”

 “It would be quite a project,” admitted the scientist, “but I have heard that your mines are rich and your Duchess determined to keep her people safe. As I said, I would be happy to design the walls and set up several cannons at the top of them for you but I would need adequate workers and supplies.”

 “You shall have it.” Lady spoke up.

 “But my Lady,” Her startled guard interjected, “don’t you think you should discuss this with the council before undertaking such a project? We’ve only just heard of the concept and have not seen any demonstrable proof of this concept.”

 “What is there to discuss?” She said flatly, turning away from her guards and the scientist, heading back to her chambers. “They want to live, don’t they?”

 The scientist laughed. “I like this Duchess of yours.”

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[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 4

 Lady’s wounds healed, and she found herself back on her horse soon as her body was able, Sigurther training her in mounted combat. The members of the council grew anxious as Lady’s coming of age dawned closer, and their influence on her decisions all but ended. Her people grew ever more capable of defending themselves against monsters, and the new focus on technology spurred a revolution of creation, gain in capital, and overall growth of the Dukedom’s strength. With this growth came an expanding military, at first supported until Lady revealed her intent to bring the war to Mardok.

 Lady argued that they would have the upper hand should they strike at him now in his dormancy. No doubt he was planning some kind of devastation against the Kingdom of Cardesnia. But to leave the protection of their homelands and attempt to stop an army of creatures with no fear, no concept of death, was out of the question to the people. They could stay here and protect themselves and whatever he unleashed could be repelled, unable to penetrate their walls or resist the death dealt by their new cannons. Pylos was strong, and could outlast whatever came.

 Schemes began to form outside of Lady’s gaze. Something had to be done about her reckless ideas. Perhaps a change of power was in order. Wolf, being more compliant in nature, would better suit the need of those in favor of isolation. Those council members not ready to relinquish their control began to sow seeds of doubt into the people’s minds. Gossip began to flourish in the towns about Lady’s overly aggressive tactics, and how they cost the lives of countless men beyond the wall. Many agreed with the council members, the ideas of war and fighting the enemy was discouraging to those who longed for a peaceful life and trusted solely in the protection of the walls. “Never mind what happened beyond their barrier,” they said. Not all were fooled though; many remembered where the strength of Pylos came from, and saw past the council’s fears and selfish political manipulations. They rallied behind Lady. Pylos soon became torn, and what was once gossip in the shadows turned to protest in the streets.

 Lady, having witnessed the separation of her people, addressed them hoping to quell the surge of anxiety that had risen so suddenly within her domain. “My people! You know I have heard your voices, and that is why we are here today, to put to rest the concerns that all of you have. We are war weary! The attacks of Mardok have claimed so many lives, and changed the course of all the rest. Where children once played, we instead see warriors scarcely strong enough to lift the swords they are forced to wield. Where once the elder enjoyed the final years of their hard lives, we instead see them working at the smithies, producing much needed equipment until their bones fail them. So now, in this blessed peace which we have found from Mardok, we finally have a glimpse back at what our lives once were. The reign of man has survived his onslaught of monsters and creatures from the abyss that we call the Nether.

 “But how long do you think he will allow us this peace? Will we let ourselves forget the horrors he brought, and merely hope that he will leave us be? We don’t know when he will return with his nightmare armies, but I assure you he will, and he will bring forth a hoard like none we’ve seen before. But we can end it now if we take the initiative.”

 There was disapproval in the crowd, but Lady lifted her hand up for silence so that she might continue.

 “As my soldiers know, I will never ask of them anything that I am not willing to do myself, and that goes for my people as well. If you are satisfied with this temporary peace, then so be it. However, if you want to be rid of this nightmare, if you want to ensure that our children do not have to know the touch of the blade, then follow me, and we will fight back for the peace that he took from us. We will take back the night so that we may dream once again! Give me one year to make ready, and we will bring to Mardok the greatest army this land has seen. Wolf will be of age by this time next year, and he will act as the shield for those who must stay. My army and I will be your sword, defending you from afar.”

 So the kingdom was divided, but not in chaos. Many were relieved that they would not be forced into a fight they did not want, allowed to stay in the comforts of their homeland without guilt. Others had been inspired by the call for adventure, or the chance to be part of a greater purpose. Many men and women joined Lady’s growing army, while others continued their daily lives. They were content that the council members would have their best interests in mind and Wolf would be a much more peaceful ruler.

 Shortly after Lady’s speech, Sigurther called the captain of the guard into his chambers.

 “Have a seat,” he offered. “No doubt that you have heard what our duchess has decided.”

 “Yes,” the captain responded. “It is a very honorable ambition.”

 Sigurther waved off the young man’s words. “Yes, very noble to be so brash. If my hair hadn’t turned silver years ago, I’d say that watching over these children was responsible.”

 “Are they truly that difficult, my Lord?”

 “Hah! They practically raise themselves. They hardly need an old man such as myself looking over their shoulders, though I am glad they still listen to my guidance. It’s more the stress of this current predicament. That is why I summoned you. I can’t be in two places at once, and while I loathe to admit it, I can’t just go gallivanting across the countryside anymore.

 “I need you to go with Lady and watch over her, she still needs protection, and knowing her she’ll be over her head in trouble sooner or later. I’ll be here where I can work best, keeping Wolf’s head above political water. However, I need you to make sure she comes home. I don’t think wolf…” He hesitated and pondered a moment, weight in his expression. “I don’t think I can handle another loss. We need her to come back alive. We have all lost too much already.”

 “I understand, my friend. I was going to request to accompany her regardless.”

 “Thank you. If you had not been with her company that night… Well, I doubt I’d have been able to cope with another memorial service. It has been too much already and I feel like my past is returning to me. I know you will bring her back, Sir White.”

 Little under a year later the massive piston regenerative walls were, cannons positioned strategically upon its battlements.  Lady watched as the Yrzowski proudly tested the wall’s defensive’s capabilities with explosive glee, and laughed with him in the success. Secret passageways had also been constructed within the castle, hidden by pistons and laden with traps. In an emergency, Wolf would have an escape.

 “It is time.” She said to her brother as she took the golden crown from upon her head and gently set upon his. “Brother, as a sword needs a shield, I need you. I cannot protect the people as I ought to. Without this crown I can carry out the military as I see fit. The people will love you. I will shoulder that weight of the military, if you would so grant me the opportunity to do so for you.”

 “You have my blessings,” Wolf said as he looked up at his sister, the crown heavy on his head. There was uncertainty in his voice, but he trusted Lady.

 Lady climbed upon her father’s warhorse and smiled as she surveyed the many loyal soldiers who had mustered to follow her beyond the wall. A priest paced among the ranks, blessing the soldiers according to whatever belief he followed. As he reached Lady he inquired, “Lady, of which of the Old Gods do you wish the blessing of?”

 “May all of the Gods give their mercy upon my enemies.” The priest raised an eyebrow to the proclamation, and several soldiers paused their preparation to take note of Lady’s words. She held the priest’s gaze and added, “For I will not.”

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[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 5

 Lady’s army marched north, stopping where they could to trade for additional food and supplies for the march using gold from the treasury. The children of the towns and farms would follow behind the war horses, laughing and singing as they idolized the soldiers, and dreamed of their own adventures. Spirits were high during the early days of the march.

 Unseen by the playing children and trading folk were the advanced scouting parties, sent ahead of Lady’s army. Lady believed that even this deep into the Dukedom there may be agents of Mardok among the shadows, perhaps even skirmishing parties waiting for opportunities to strike on unsuspecting villages. Her scouts would find them.

 Lady convened with her officers one quiet evening in the command tent, discussing likely holdout’s for Mardok’s host beyond the borders of the Dukedom. The topic moved on to masking the army’s movement as they entered the wild when Lady began to feel light headed. She doubled over in sudden pain, her hand rising to clutch the left side of her chest.

 “Lady!” Sir White rushed to her side to assist her, but she waved him off as she steadied herself.

 Lady let out a long breath before rising back up, fighting to regain composure. “Don’t worry, Sir White,” she murmured. “It’s nothing that can be helped. The shard just digs sometimes.”

 She returned her attention to the officers. Sir White could swear that her violet eyes had shown just a bit brighter for a moment, as though self-illuminating, but shrugged it off as play of the candle light.

 Sir White attempted to focus on the discussion at hand, but his mind remained elsewhere. His own village had been among the first stricken by the terrible monsters of Mardok, when he had just begun his career as a member of the Duke’s Guard. He had not been on duty when the Duke was assassinated, but still he never forgiven himself, feeling he could have made some difference had only he volunteered for watch. He took a silent vow to protect the children of the Den, to redeem himself. But now politics had demanded he leave Wolf’s safety to others back at Lucern, and the safety of Lady’s own life seemed out of his influence.

 He shook the terrible thoughts of disasters to come and fought to return his attention to the strategies being debated.

 Several days passed without incident. Camp had been set for the evening and the army relaxed, men and woman gathered around fires telling their tales. The guards of the forward perimeter were enjoying their brew when a shadow emerged from the trees. They scrambled for their weapons until the scout emerged from the shadows, his garbs spattered with mud.

 “You scared us half to death,” one of the guards laughed in relief.

 The scout did not pause, continuing past the guards into the camp. The guard peered into the woods from which the scout had emerged, searching the shadows as though something were missing.

 “Where are the other two?” he said, turning once more, but the scout had already disappeared into the heart of the camp.

 Lady emerged from her tent as the distant commotion grew closer. A host of men tailed behind the scout as he approached, all begging questions to him without respond. Lady stepped forward.

 The scout knelt before her, bowing his head as he spoke. “My Lady, I have urgent news.” He then stood and met her gaze. “We’ve spotted skirmishers, a full party of boned archers. They aim to march on a village near the border.”

 Sir White emerged from his own tent during the scouts report and took a place beside Lady.

 The scout continued, “My comrades remained behind so that I could return to you. They will do their best to harass and distract the enemy, but we fear they’ll be upon the village by the sun’s setting tomorrow eve.”

 “Thank you,” Lady said with a nod. “Take a moment to rest your feet and feed yourself, then return to me.”

 The scout bowed his head once more and turned, disappearing into the gathered men.

 Lady turned to Sir White. “I need a party of riders saddled up as soon as possible. We must be swift. I will leave the army to you for the duration of my excursion to continue the march.”

 “Begging your pardon, my Lady, but you’ll not be getting into a fight without me beside you.”

 Lady opened her mouth as though to protest, but thought against it. There were other capable captains who could be trusted to march an army, and there was a reassuring feeling that her comrades would refuse to leave her side.

 “Very well, report when the men are mounted.” She turned and re-entered her tent to don her armor once more.

 The company rode through night and day, pushing their mounts as they desperately tried to intercept the skirmishers before they could do any more damage. They came to the foothill below the village as the sun set once more, slowing their pace as they neared without sign of attack. A sense of unease lingered in Lady’s mind, a foreboding which had been with her since noon’s passing.

 The scout rode up beside Lady. “We should have encountered them by now. My comrades are not the kind to leave these matters to chance.”

 Lady’s chest began to ache, a sudden soreness as though her wound had only been made the day before. Her hand instinctively moved to her heart and while attempting to calm it her mind flittered with strange whispers. The illegible noises danced in her mind alone before dying out.

 Arrows flew through the air, striking one rider and another’s horse, tossing the second rider into the air as his mount flailed to the ground wrenching Lady from her inner thoughts.

 “Ambush!” Sir White called out. The company drew their weapons and pressed their mounts forward.

 Chaos erupted around her as spiders descended from their perches in the trees, their eyeless riders drawing fresh arrows as javelins from Lady’s men flew out and met their marks. The sound of metal against bone drowned out her world as her men rallied into battle. Lady fumbled for her sword as she came crashing back to reality. Her sword freed from its sheath was immediately thrusted into the thick hide of a spider that wandered too close. She pulled her sword free from the arachnid as the rider jumped from its mount and drew its bow back for a shot at Lady, it’s first having missed its fast target. Lady raised her shield to block the shot, simultaneously jabbing her sword forward, the blade settling deep within the ribcage of her attacker. The tip found its mark, severing the spinal column and the tie that kept the bones animated. They became abruptly heavy as the corpse fell to the ground, pulling Lady off her mount as the sword failed to pull free.

 Sir White’s blade found itself lodged deep within one of the many eyes of a stray spider mount, ending its life. As he freed his blade, swinging at the next opponent who stood in his way, his mind was clear and focused. He had been bitten on his shoulder, but luck would have it not on his sword arm. His blade swung true, hacking a skeleton down. With the foe dead, he managed to lay eyes upon Lady. She fought without mount and was slowing down from exhaustion, her body not as strong as the men under her command. She seemed unaware of her condition though as she swung her sword, severing an opponent in two. Her violet eyes struck him; they were burning with an intense light, the look almost inhuman and full of fury. The surreal image was interrupted as an arrow struck her, in the upper shoulder.

 Lady screamed, her body being thrown back by the force of the painful bow. She spiked her blade into the ground, her hand tightening upon the pommel to steady herself. Stable in her stance, she turned with her blade up to meet the source of the arrow. At that moment she knew that this was the skeleton general who had struck her down those many turns of the moon ago. A smile struck Lady’s face as the idea of revenge entered her mind in a dark whisper. Without further thought, her training and a strength unknown to her took over, and she charged her mark.

 The general stood his ground, several arrows notched upon the string of his bow. He let them fly, streaking at Lady with lethal speed. Two hit her, one in the arm and the other slicing open her side, but they did not slow her. She leapt over the body of a fallen spider and swung her sword at the unflinching general. His speed was impressive, having already notched another arrow, but he was not quick enough. Lady’s blade turned down and hacked off his arm, causing the arrow to fly stray past Lady’s ear. The general now defenseless raised his remaining arm to catch Lady’s blade. A pointless effort, as his bones snapped against the steel blade, and in his final moment he was aware of Lady’s blade connecting with his clavicle as she decapitated him.

 A pile of skulls rested in the middle of the field, Sir White tossing in one last head. “Three to one,” he concluded. “They had never intended to attack the village.”

 Lady looked upon the pile with scorn. She had been the sole target, and good men had died this night because of it. She stood there in contemplation for some time as the fit tended to the wounded, unsure of just how long it had been since the last blow was struck. Finally she departed from the pile, grabbing a shovel to begin digging graves for those who’d fallen, a duty which felt almost ritualistic to her.

 She was broken out of her trance when a hand came to her shoulder.

 “Come Lady, it is your turn to be stitched up, let someone else take the time to honor the dead.”

 It was Sir White, his shoulder was bandaged and the bruises of fighting had begun to pepper his skin.

 “I’m fine…” Lady trailed off, still bothered by the sounds she had heard moments before the fight.

 “No, you’re not. You had to break off two arrows earlier, and-” Sir White pulled at the bloodied tear in Lady’s tunic, where during the battle an arrow had grazed her deeply, and beheld that her skin was whole and perfect beneath.

 “Don’t mention this to a soul,” she said firmly as she continued her digging. “Is that understood, Captain?”

 “Yes, my Lady.” White said in bewilderment. But the moment passed, and with his senses returned, he found himself a shovel and helped Lady dig. The roots of the forest were thick, and proper graves would take time.

 After a few minutes of silent digging Lady finally murmured, “Before the fight I could hear something…” She hesitated, wondering why she was suddenly telling Sir White this possibly compromising information.

 “Hear who, the monsters?”  Sir White looked up at her and then quickly back down to avoid looking like they were having a conversation.

 “I don’t know…” Her voice trembled with uncertainty as she confided in him. “I couldn’t understand it, but it terrified me to my core. It led my mind amiss, and I could not focus.”

 There was nothing White had to offer to console her. The level of fear in her voice revealed just how terrified she was of the incident. “Do you think it is the shard?”

 “Yes.” This was the only thing Lady was sure of. “It’s doing things to me…I don’t know what, but I need you to take an oath for me.”

 “Of course, my Lady.” Sir White responded without hesitation.

 Lady had stopped digging, her violet eyes staring directly into White’s with such an intensity that he was sure that she was looking past him and into his very soul. “If I should stray from my path, if my heart should turn to darkness, promise you will end my life.”

 His chest twisted as he heard her request, thinking how he would protest.  He couldn’t do what she had asked him. She was just a child.

 And yet, here she was. Sir White could see in her eyes that she was no longer a child. She had somehow past him in age, and he could not deny her request.

 “I swear it, my Lady” White whispered though dried lips.

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[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 6

 As they rode out from camp, White noticed a strange rattle-clank coming from Lady’s horse. He looked over and saw a series of small bones aligned within a lock of her hair. He could easily conclude where they’d come from, paling at the thought of Lady standing over the boned general’s remains. He thought better of asking questions and remained silent, eager to meet up with the main force.

 The army marched on, the lands twisting and flora thinning as they continued north, signs of civilization becoming scarce as they travelled further beyond the border of Pylos. Soon what settlements they passed were either abandoned, or charred remains of what once was, the outskirts of many littered with shallow graves. Where Pylos experienced relief, these people still lived in fear.

 Lady’s army came upon a small farm as the sun began to set, smoke still billowing from the farmhouse which couldn’t have been torched more than a day prior. The crops glowed as they smoldered in the breeze, making Lady’s eyes sting and her soldiers cough as the air remained heavy with soot. These burning fields became more frequent as the continued on, and by dusk they came into view of the ruined city which those fields had fed.

 “Over there,” a soldier at the edge of the formation called out, “a figure!”

 The soldiers quickly formed a line, weapons at the ready should the emerging entity prove to be of hostile intent. It did not take long though for the man to emerge from the shadows of the ruins, rushing to them with urgency. The men sheathed their weapons, and several went out to meet them. Lady and Sir White had begun to move their mounts through the formation, intrigued by the commotion.

 “Our friend needs a healer,” the man pleaded to the soldiers between breaths, “She’s sick!”

 Healing herbs had become precious over the march, as the wounded and the survivors they encountered consumed it in greater quantities. Lady and her soldiers knew they would need those supplies at the end of their trek, but who among them would be the one to deny those in need? As Lady had said, “If not us, then who? If not now, then when?”

 “We will do what we can for your friend,” one soldier promised, “but we are limited in what we have to offer.”

 The soldiers turned as Lady and Sir White arrived.

 “My Lady,” the most senior soldier greeted, looking up to Lady on her mount. “This man requires a healer.”

 Lady nodded, requiring no further explanation. “Then a healer he shall have. Sir White, fetch Caesaris.” She pointed to several of the soldiers present. “You four will escort this man with me.”

 Lady dismounted from her horse, accompanied by White and the druid Caesaris, and followed the man into one of the buildings. What it once was, they could not tell, for the fire damage was too great. Through the winding wreckage they found two figures. A woman lay on the floor, while a man huddled close to her, grasping her hand.

 The man looked up at the party as they approached and remained quiet. His eyes wore dark rings of exhaustion and his skin and garments were blanketed grey by ash. Under all the grime and exhaustion one could make out his Nordic heritage. They were not descendants of anyone from within the dukedom. His eyes traced over the new faces until his attention was called back the woman in his care, who groaned in pain on the floor.

 Lady looked down on the woman, her expression betraying a sense of pity. The illness had taken a deep hold on her, skin tight against bones as though she’d been starved for weeks. Her chestnut hair had begun to fall out and her right arm bore the ever familiar bite, green with puss. The air reeked of rotten flesh.

 “There is no cure for this,” Caesaris whispered, shaking his head.

 The young man who had led them here burst from his place behind the party. “There has to be something you can do!” He looked to his companion on the floor, but his friend made no motion to argue.

 “Give us a horse then, and let us seek out other healers!”

 “She would not last to the sun’s rise.” White spoke softly, knowing from his experiences with his village.

 Defiant, the young man continued to plea. Lady kneeled down next to the young woman, ignoring the others. The woman met Lady’s gaze, but focus was a struggle for her, as though something else were calling for her.

 “You can hear them, can’t you?”

 The woman’s eyes had sunken into her skull, the blue of her irises faded. They clearly looked to Lady now as the woman managed a small nod.

 Lady tensed as her fear was confirmed. She’d suspected that this plague was more than some mere disease, but magic had never been her strong suit.

 “Do you understand what you hear?”

 “They are calling me,” the woman rasped. She wheezed a quick breath and let out a wet cough. Her voice was weaker when she continued. “I don’t want to go…”

 “I can help you,” Lady offered, a resolve in her voice. Her heart picked up in pace. What she was proposing could not be delegated to any of her men. If this poor soul accepted, it would be Lady’s burden.

 “I thought you said that you could not help her.” The unspoken betrayed his silence.

 “Hush, Mearm,” the woman responded, struggling to raise her head to look to him. “It’s not what you are hoping for.” Her faded gaze turned back to Lady, who she knew could finally free her from her cursed fate. “I accept.”

 Finally realizing what they were speaking of, the yet unnamed man shouted. “No! This can’t-this can’t be the only way.” He kneeled down on the other side of the woman and took her hand. “You’re strong, if we-“

 “No,” she said, raising a hand to him, yet unable to find him. He took her hand and brought it close. “My sense of self is diminishing. I feel I will not last the hour, my dear Parune.”

 A hushed silence fell upon them all as the inevitable sunk in, only her labored breathing breaking the silence.

 At long last Mearm leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispering a short prayer. “Marielle, my sister, may you find your peace now.”

 “Sir White,” Lady called as she stood, her gaze still locked at Marielle below. “Please take Caesaris with you and wait outside. I shall be out shortly.” Lady wanted nothing less than for Sir White to see her in this act. His only response was that of footfalls as he obediently left with Caesaris.

 “This is murder,” Parune said bitterly, his eyes directed towards Lady, all of his hate and frustration focused on her.

 “No,” Mearm quavered, this is mercy. The only thing left for us to give her is freedom from the curse that waits for her.” He turned to Parune and met his eyes intently. “Do not tell me you can release her of that fate yourself.”

 Parune could not answer, finally shying his gaze away from Mearm’s.

 “The wicked truth,” Marielle’s voice croaked, turning her gaze back to Lady, “is that it is a merciful murder. The mercy you seek to show me will weigh heavy on your soul.”

 “I would gladly give my soul,” Lady said, fighting to maintain the confidence in her voice, “if doing so would save another.” In truth she was horrified by what she had just agreed to do. Never before had she killed a human being, not an innocent. The thought had never crossed her mind that she might do such a thing in her life, not until she saw the tormented soul behind Marielle eyes.

 “Thank you.” Marielle turned to her companions, licking her dry lips before attempting speech again. It had become incredibly tedious to form words and she was getting more exhausted by the moment.

 “Let us have a moment with her alone,” Parune said finally as he gazed down at Marielle. “Please.”

 Lady nodded and ambled deeper into the wreckage of the structure, finding a room whose once grand ceiling had collapsed, revealing the clear night sky above. Never by my hands shall I hurt those I wish to protect, Lady thought. How can I justify this? She wondered what waited for her when she finally passed from this world. Would she be judged for her actions, condemned for deeds such as this? Would she ever see her parents again? What would they think of her now? Her mind was a flurry of unanswered questions that only painted her consciousness with the thought of her fate holding total and complete condemnation. She didn’t want to be evil, she didn’t want to hurt others, but what she wanted was never an option. Her fate had been stripped from her, and she was left to mold it as best she could. But what if she could not do it without turning into a monster herself?

 She thought of Sir White and smirked with grim determination. If I become full of malice, my judge and executioner will be watching me.

 Eternity seemed to pass before she saw the figures of Mearm and Parune enter into the dim starlight. They passed by her without a word, only Mearm’s eyes catching the haunted look in Lady’s, a look that said she was paving the road to her own damnation. She would not let anyone else commit the atrocities that were necessary to carry on.

 She was grateful for the silence and turned to meet not just the end of a life, but what she felt would be the first hammer strike in the forging of her chains of damnation.

 It was a crude burial, but Lady had not wanted to burden the others with any part of this. She sat at the mouth of the ruins and recited prayer after prayer until she felt that at least one obscure God might forgive her for her transgressions. She wished she could do more, and in the back of her mind promised to return and give her a more proper burial, if she somehow managed to survive all of this.

 She emerged from the ruins after what seemed like hours. The army had already set camp while waiting on Lady’s party to return. Mearm and Parune waited for her at the edge of the camp, but she could not meet their gaze as she approached.

 “You may enter and pay your respects,” Lady said as she paused before them. “I’ve seen that she’s been cared for properly.”

 “Thank you,” Mearm responded, “but I think we’ll leave our last memory of her a living one.” Parune nodded agreement to this.

 Lady struggled a moment, struggling to find her words. “I am truly sorry for your loss,” she finally began. “I know your home is here, but you are more than welcome to take refuge in Pylos. We have-”

 “We want to come with you.” Interrupted Parune who spoke in a matter of fact. The anger he had previously held towards Lady had been redirected in a determination of another cause.

 Lady looked up and blinked surprise. It was not hard to discern their purpose. “Are you trained in the sword?”

 Parune looked down sheepishly as he shook his head. “No, Mearm and I are…were business partners here in Thunder Snow. However, we want to learn. We want,” the word came hard to him, like a bitter flavor he’d never experienced before, “vengeance.”

 Smiling gently, Lady looked over to her men at the camp, then back at what she supposed were her newest recruits. “We have some spare armor needing to be filled, and horses in need of mounts. The road here was less than peaceful. I am sure there are many who’d wish to tutor you in our arts, but time will be short. You are more than welcome to accompany us, just stay mindful of your limits.”

 Parune’s face shown a hint of hope. He was more than eager to pay a thousand fold to those who had destroyed everything that he had ever had. “Thank you.” He awkwardly bent at the waist, not accustomed to the sort of formal traditions that were found in the Dukedom, but he knew that it was a time like this to be courteous. Mearm, ever quiet, also bowed.

 “There is no need for that.” Lady waved them back up. “My soldiers will tell you that I have forgone such formalities.”

 Lady waved down an idle soldier and asked him to find the two of them some new clothes and a tent. “Don’t forget to eat,” she directed at the two. “I know you both may not feel hungry right now, but you will need to keep your strength.”

 “Thank you.” Mearm whispered, so softly that Lady almost didn’t catch it. Parune glanced over at his friend and patted his back.

 “Don’t worry,” Parune said with a glint in his eye, “Marielle will be avenged.”

 Mearm nodded and the both of them walked off together, following the soldier to their new destiny, whatever it may be.

Return to Table of Contents

[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 7

 Lady let out a deep sigh as Parune and Mearm left Lady at the edge of camp to return to the fireside. She felt a sickness, and the charade that all was alright wore heavy on her. Her eyes swept over the camp, the many faces and lives that counted on her, and suddenly felt separated from them all. She shivered as she looked around herself for a secluded spot, finding none within the camp. Even her own tent would provide little of the privacy she so desperately needed. She bit her lip and looked to beyond the ruined city, where the forest seemed to be calling out to her, offering seclusion and comfort that she had not felt since before her parents had passed away. Without a further thought, Lady ambled towards the forest, needing to escape it all.

 Lady found herself a small brook not far within the forest where she all but dropped to the ground. When her parents had been alive, Lady had always been expected to play the part of an adult as the eldest. With their passing she had taken on the crown, as well as the role of Wolf’s guardian. She held Wolf when he was afraid, she was strong for wolf when he could not be, and protected Wolf from the world the best she could. She, from the very beginning, had been expected to take everything in stride. However, she had no one to support her, no one to confide in, to tell her the comforting lie that everything would be okay.

 It was too much for her, and without the need to hide any longer her tears fell, accompanied by intervals of soft hiccupping. She didn’t hear the quiet footfalls behind her, and when she finally did she found herself without want to react.

 Sir White placed his hand on Lady’s shoulder and sat next to her. Silently regarding her, he recalled that moment at the graves where she had looked at him, seeming so much older behind those eyes. Now she was a little girl again, afraid and defenseless. He found himself reaching out and hugging her.

 Lady turned and cried into Sir White’s shoulder, and he could hardly be surprised that she would break down after such a day. He wanted to comfort her, but he could not bring himself to give her the comforting lies that adults often gave children. So he remained silent, letting her escape from it all, even if it was for a few minutes, in the unjudging presence of a friend.

 Time passed without meaning until Lady finally spoke up, her tears long since passed, but the pain still overwhelming. “I think I left my soul somewhere back there.”

 White looked down upon the mess of red hair veiling Lady’s face as she stared despondently at the river. There was so much conviction in her voice for someone so young. “You are

realizing that you cannot just ride up on your white horse and save everyone, Lady.”

 The literary allusion towards heroes in fairytales was not lost on Lady. She swallowed the lump in her throat and remained silent. She had always wanted to be like her father, to be a warrior and not a person of the court. At no more than five turns of the season she had demanded of her father that she be allowed to ride with him. Then there were the myths and lore mother would always read to her, where the concepts of good and evil maintained clear boundaries. She knew life was more complicated than that, but in situations such as this how could she know right from wrong?

 “You did what you thought was right Lady,” White reassured her, “and took on a responsibility that many others would not face. It is more than anyone could fairly ask of you. Just because it is right does not mean that it is necessarily good, just as it is not evil. Hold onto what you know is right and keep it close to you. Someday you may find your actions called into question, and the line far more blurred than this.”

 White’s words comforted Lady, despite the idea that she might be confronted with decisions more convoluted than this one. After a few more moments of quiet thought, she sat up and mumbled. “I think I can tolerate myself once more.”

 White smiled faintly as she stood. For a moment he saw the flash of the little girl she had been, before the mask of the leader everyone expected her to be shifted into place. It was as though she’d transformed into a completely different person. She held herself up straighter, with firmness behind her shoulders. Her mannerisms changed down to the way her hand rested on the pommel of her sword, as there was a strength and confidence that was not there a moment ago. It was her face, however, that changed the most. The worry and guilt was wiped clean as a blank expression replaced it, her violet eyes hardening.

 The two walked back to camp in silence, Lady not having to ask Sir White to keep the discussion between them. He was becoming someone she could confide in; someone she could trust as more than just a soldier. He was a friend. Lady had childhood friends, but the crown had alienated her from them. She wondered how they were fairing and reminisced on the friendships she had lost. Some happiness returned now that she again had someone to trust, even if he was twelve turns of the seasons older than her.

 Lady could see Mearm and Parune sitting by the fire with her soldiers and drinking ale as she strolled through camp. She had no plans this evening on joining them, and headed towards her tent. But as she walked past them, falling within earshot, she couldn’t help but listen in on the conversation.

 “Has your Lady of the Den been to war before?” Parune’s distinctive voice sounded contemplative as he was attempting to learn about the person who he had just this evening pledged fealty.

 The soldiers exchanged glances, smiling and responded. “She’s never partaken in a campaign such as this before, but she’s been tested more than once. And don’t let her height or demeanor fool you; she’s only fifteen turns of the seasons.”

 Parune spat his ale back into his tankard, while Mearm much more subtly widened his eyes in surprise.

 “What?” Parune exclaimed, “You mean that a little girl leads this whole army?”

 The soldiers laughed and nodded, one of them finding himself able to explain through the amusement.

 “It’s rather complicated. To put it simply, she took the initiative to launch this campaign, and was the only person of any power who thought it a good idea. She even renounced her crown to persuade the court to permit her this army. Thus far she’s proven herself to be the sword that Pylos needed.”

 Parune was not sure if Lady’s strength of character should be commended for its maturity, or regarded as demonic, recalling the bones strung up in her red hair. “Either she is all that you say she is, or your country is worse off than I thought it was.”

 “It’s probably a combination of both,” another soldier quipped with a smile. “We like to call her the Lady of Might, as many of us believe that she was blessed by the God of War. We dare not call her that before her, though. She’ll hear nothing of the sort. She puts forth good effort to keep herself equal to those she leads.”

 “I see.” Parune reserved further thoughts for now with the intent to gather more information to better assess his new situation.

 The world around Lady suddenly became quiet. Lady stopped as shadow enveloped her, leaving her alone and suspended in the darkness. She panicked and spun around, greeted by the same blank surroundings. The soldiers of the camp had been all around her, but now none were to be seen. Time ceased to flow, and Lady found her sense of self slip. Her heart began to pound as dread set in, but it no longer felt like it was within her. Before she could move, the sound of whispers came to her.

 They were the same voices from before, the indistinguishable language that did not need the voice of lungs to be communicated. She had begun to believe that they were the voices of the monsters, but something seemed more abhorrent this time. She had never understood the words before, but now they seemed to take shape, forms whose meaning she could almost grasp. She listened and shivered as the seemingly many whispers synchronized, forming a single voice, and began to repeat something just beyond her understanding.

 The voice echoed around Lady, causing her to turn as she looked for the source of the sound, but she found that she remained alone. Never had she experienced such darkness, not even in sleep. She attempted to pierce the abyss, but the shadows were thick and yielded nothing to her.

 Name me…

 This time she could understand the words, and the voice seemed to be whispered into her ear. Lady’s reached for her sword as she whirled around, ready to attack her opponent, but her hand found nothing. The effort was wasted, as there was nothing behind her, a terrifying thought confounded by the realization she was without her sword. Lady strained to hear the voice in the darkness, but only the sound of her own footfall reached her.

 Condescending laughter suddenly filled the silence. The realization donned on Lady that the voice was not around her, but within her mind.

 “Who are you?” Lady shouted into the void, receiving only more bubbling laughter. Suddenly her chest throbbed, and she doubled over in pain.

 I am the darkness between the stars.

 Lady could feel the words fluttering in her head like moth wings. She shuddered violently from as she frantically clawed at her chest, the sensation of movement within her very body violating her consciousness.

 I am the End of all things…

 The voice now thundered throughout her body. She could feel her skin stretching and sliding as something inside of her moved, as if she were a glove and a hand were stretching within her. The skin of her arm tore and the limb splintered. Lady screamed in terror of the violating sensation, as an arm not of her own pulled itself away from her. She stared in unimaginable horror as another entity began to pull itself out of her body. It was as if they were made of clay and some force pulled the two parts away from one another, each a reflection of the other.

 Lady’s face crawled as if tiny worms squirmed below the surface. Her hands rose and clawed at her flesh, trying to pull them off, but found hold of much more than small insects, pulling what felt to be entire heaps of flesh from her face. Her vision blurred as her skin stretched away from her face, making a sickening pop as whatever she had grasped broke free. Blinking, Lady focused her eyes and beheld in her hands a face with red hair and violet eyes staring at her, smiling.

 Lady realized that her mirror half remained joined to her at the hips and screamed. She pulled back violently, desperately trying to get away from her mimic.

 Lady fell feebly away as the being finished separating, gracefully stepping out of Lady’s body, laughter emitting from its grinning face.

 I am you.

 The voice prickled Lady’s skin as if the wind sighed the very words, causing gooseflesh to rise.

 “You are not me!” Lady shouted, having found her voice.

 Laughter again surrounded her as if berating a small child, the kind of laughter that Lady herself did not have. The laughter was older, far more mature. And yet, it lacked the coarseness Lady’s voice had acquired from the shouting in battles. This was the kind of laugh that could turn men’s heads in interest.

 Look closer.

 The words were inviting as they flowed through Lady’s head, caressing her mind. But they were laced with a twinge of something malevolent underneath, something older than the world.  The figure reached down to Lady and pressed the scar on Lady’s chest with its finger. Lady winced as the fragment within vibrated, as though it were responding to the replica’s presence.

 The reflection smiled and danced away into the darkness, the shadows parting to make way as it moved through them, leaving Lady once again within the encampment. Something was very wrong as Lady picked up on the all too familiar smell of death in the air. Alarm seized Lady as she scrambled to her feet, chasing after the mirage that gracefully ran just out of her reach through the now bloodied encampment.

 “What did you do?” Lady demanded of it, not able to take in her surroundings. Yet out of the corner of her eyes she could see the hunched figures which hardly resembled the human beings they once were. As she searched for the phantom, Lady noticed that it was not just people bent and disfigured, but monsters littered the ground as well. None of them bore wounds that were typical of battle.  

 Fear and anger filled Lady as she caught sight of a wisp of red hair disappearing around a tent, escaping her sight. Lady dashed around the tent and abruptly came to a stop as she beheld the sweeping vista of tens of thousands of bodies, bent and distorted as if they had been crushed. Horrified, Lady turned and retched from the sight, but she did not have time to react as the melodious voice mocked her.

 Never mind them. People are of no value.

 “You murdered them!” Lady screamed turning from the sight to meet her impersonator who was now standing behind her.

 I can do no wrong for I do not know what it is. I simply am.

 Rage filled Lady’s heart and she lashed out at the abomination wearing her skin, but her frantic advances were easily averted. Undeterred, she continued her assault, but to no avail. The figure moved with deceiving speed that kept it beyond Lady’s reach, blurring in Lady’s eyes as it did so.

 Lady shrieked at the apparition in frustration. “What do you want?”

 Lady found herself pinned beneath the reflection, who had moved so quickly that there appeared to have been no movement at all. It held Lady down, sitting on her hips. The violet eyes stared down at her, unblinking orbs that reflected Lady’s frightened face within. She wanted to fight, but her body felt as though it were made of sand. She struggled mentally, but her body made no motion. The imitation bent down, surrounding Lady in a blanket of its own red hair, while lips brushed against Lady’s ear and whispered cold words.

 Name me.

 Lady’s eyes went wide as the command slid into her body, reaching into the very depths of her sub consciousness, stripping away any sense of power and security. Lady’s lips opened up to let out a silent scream, the answer coming to her like a shot though the heart. Tears welled in her eyes as the shard pulsed in her chest, sending shockwaves of pain throughout her body. Lady realized that it was changing her.

 Lady squeezed her eyes shut and her cracked lips opened again, whispering the name of the image.

 “Malice…”

 Malice sat up and smiled down at her, pleased with the name.

 Now use me.

 Lady awoke, the words still ringing in her head as she had spoken them aloud from her sleep. Lady was drenched in sweat, and even the dim light entering her tent felt harsh against her eyes.

 She glanced around at the seemingly unreal world as she sat up, apprehensive.

 It was just a dream…

Return to Table of Contents

[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 8

 Despite having lost their previous lives, Mearm and Parune were quickly settling in with Lady’s soldiers. They walked next to their horses to build stamina, Sir White giving lessons of the sword when the army took breaks from marching. When the camp was set at night other soldiers offered lessons in other weapons. Parune quickly found that his talents lay with the bow, while quiet Mearm found great satisfaction in cleaving wooden targets with the war axe. At night, Parune and Mearm shared stories about their old city, Thundersnow. From the legends of how it was founded, to its ironic end in fire, having not been the first time the city had been set to flame.

 Lady was proud to have the two eager men join her ranks of soldiers. Their character stood out among her men and despite looking alike they came from different families. Regardless of their similar appearances, their natures were worlds apart. Parune had his defiant nature that questioned the world around him while Mearm was reserved, allowing himself to silently observe everyone and never let something escape his eyes.  She was certain that when it came time to test their honor that they would excel and if they were lucky go down in history.

 Lady’s musings of her new recruits were put on hold as a scout rode into view. They had been traveling through a ruined village and had sent a scout out to look for survivors, though it now seemed this town had been destroyed at least a full season ago. It was likely that any survivors would have moved onto the next village by now.

 “Did you find anything?”

 “No, my Lady, but I stumbled upon a campfire that is not but a day old. There might be others around. If you ask me, it’s bandits who have come to scavenge the remains.”
“Well,” Lady said with a smile, “I am sure that if that is the case they will give us a wide birth. I don’t think it will be a concern if it is a single campfire that you found.”

 “Understood, my Lady.” The scout bowed before turning, returning to the ruins.

 They found the encampment the scout had identified not far down the rundown road.  Lady paused on her horse, looking at the belongings that had been left behind as her soldiers continued pass by the encampment.

 “It looks like they left in a hurry,” Sir White observed, pausing with Lady. “I wonder if they noticed the scout’s approach.” He had not left her side after the night in the woods. She had left confident after their conversation, but the morning after she seemed to be more troubled than before, causing him concern.

 “I’m sure they will return after we pass. I wonder if they have enough supplies.” Lady mused.

 “Don’t go dumping our supplies on people you know nothing about, now,” Remarked Parune. “If they are bandits, you would only be enabling them.” He was interested in the potential of a good fight, especially if bandits were involved.

 “They are still people.” Lady said with a smile, knowing full well that many would not agree. “I like to believe in the humanity of people, and that even if they have ill nature that they are still good underneath it all.”

 “That is very idealistic,” Parune said as he shook his head, “surprising that you would retain such thoughts after all that you have been though. In my experience, human nature is something that tends to decay over time, despite what chance of redemption might be offered.” This was one of the few instances where he could see the child Lady truly was underneath everything, and he wondered why this of all things still clung to her.

 “I am hopeful, Parune.” Lady placed two loaves of bread on a small chest near the fire pit. “I have always held the conviction that there is a better life, a better world beyond the one that we are living in now. But as I grew older I’ve realized that there is only this world, uncultivated, and it is up to us to sow the seeds. I know I can’t sway the mind of every person I meet, and the world is not something that will change overnight, but I hope I may at least set something larger in motion.”

 It was becoming clear to Parune why so many followed Lady, and why her people adored her. She was honest, and although more idealistic than any one person should be, she was the sort of person that could lift the morale of those around her.

 As Lady pulled herself back up upon her horse she paused, as if listening for something in the distance. Her brow furrowed for a moment, but then relaxed as she settled in her saddle. The moment was not lost on Parune, Sir White, or Mearm, who looked to the distance in search of what had caught Lady’s attention.

 “Is something the matter, Lady?” Sir White spoke after a moment of hesitation.

 “No,” she lied, “I thought I had heard something.”

 She had heard the voice in her head again. It would randomly speak to her, asking her to use it. Whatever that meant, Lady refused the notion, no matter what it meant.

 Parune motioned as though to call her bluff when an explosion erupted from the hills above the camp.

 “Silent assassins!” Sir White hissed the name with hatred as he drew his sword.

 “Why did it go off if we-” Realization dawned on Lady. “There must be someone up there!” Lady signaled two of her escorts to follow before grabbing the reigns of her horse and digging her heels in, sending him into a full sprint as she went to investigate. Sir White had no choice but to pursue her.

 “Shall we follow?” Mearm asked, giving Parune a sidelong glance.

 Parune smiled, glancing over at his friend. “I don’t care what it is; we are not going to let them have all the fun.”

 Mearm returned the smile and with a tug of the reigns they were off.

 By the time the party broke the clearing there was no fight to be had. They beheld a black haired man at the bottom of a crater, cleaving with an axe through the thick green hide of the last silent assassin. His skin was blackened from the gunpowder, having been within the explosions radius, and his armor now sat on him as rags. Despite this he took down the creature with ease. With the deed done he picked up the corpse and dragged it out of the crater.

 “As you can see,” the man said without a glance to the group, “I don’t need your help.” He drew a knife and went about his business. There were two other green bodies next to him, both split open from his axe.

 “Is that your encampment at the base of this hill?” Lady asked. There were few who could face the silent assassins in melee combat and fare so well.

 “It is, if you haven’t ransacked it yet.” He began cutting through the monsters’ innards, pulling out unnecessary innards as he seemed to be searching for something. “What’s it to you?”

 Lady looked on with curiosity, unfazed by the harshness in his voice. “I was hoping you could give me some answers about the nearby village. Did you have any ties to the village?”

 “No. I found it that way about a moon’s change ago.” He pulled a small black organ out, smiled and set it aside as he moved on to the next corpse. “I don’t know anything about it. Now if you would leave me alone, I’ll do the same for you.”

 “Very well, but humor me one more question.”

 The man let out an exasperated sound but grunted out a “Sure.” while pulling out another blackened organ from within the second body.

 “What are you harvesting from the monsters?”

 “Gunpowder, if you kill them before they blow you to pieces, you can harvest it.” He said it in a matter of fact tone, but paused as he glanced up and saw a glint in Lady’s eyes.

 “So that’s how Yrzowski obtained it!” She was visibly excited. She had wondered how that man had managed to get a hold of so much gunpowder, and with so much more potency then anything ever produced within the kingdom. It made sense now to extract it from the very creatures that utilized it for their destructive purposes. But the question remained, how had he retrieved so much from the silent assassins?

 “Who?” the man said with a bit of annoyance.

 “There is a scientist who built cannons for the walls of Lucern. They utilize the silent assassins’ explosive materials.” Her mind still trying to figure out how such mass amounts had been gathered.

 “Cannons you say…” The man was suddenly interested in the strange group that had stumbled upon his quiet life.

 “I’d be happy discuss further with you, but I don’t believe this is an appropriate place. Perhaps we should return to your camp, Mr…” She paused, having not yet been told his name.”

 “Darth,” he informed her, “and none of that title stuff with me, please. Yes, let’s get back. I’ve got what I need here.”

 They returned to Darth’s camp, while Sir White headed further on to keep the men of Lady’s army informed on their whereabouts.

 “So when did you find out that they could be used in such a way?” Parune asked, his mild curiosity getting the better of him.

 “I mine my own ores. I had a close encounter with one by pit of lava and the damned thing almost killed me in its own death. It had fallen next to the lava and a spark caught on the body. Then there was a hiss, sparks, and boom, the mineshaft collapsed. Luck would have it I was on the right side when the collapse had happened. I figured whatever had caused the explosion must be within the body, rather than some magic they possess like many believed. It was just a matter of opening them up and finding it.”

 “Amazing.” Lady said, still in a bit of wonder about it all.

 “Tell me about these cannons you were mentioning to me.”

 “I don’t know much about the engineering in their design, but they utilize the Redstone in their triggering, and are made from exceptionally resistant materials.”

 “Do you have any with you now?”

 “No, they are too cumbersome to transport. Their best served as defensive weapons.”

 Darth looked disappointed, but gave it some thought. “Then they must be made out of obsidian. It’s the hardest material I can think of, exceptionally heavy, and the only thing I’ve seen come out of a blast intact.”

 Lady nodded in confirmation. “Listen, I have an offer for you. If you are willing to hear it.”

 “Humph, might as well.” Darth placed the organs on a block of wood to later be dissected and carefully harvested.

 “I see that you prefer to live alone, but we would benefit from having someone like you join our ranks.”

 “I don’t care about politics, that doesn’t interest me.”

 “This isn’t just some property dispute or some nations not getting along… we are attempting to destroy Mardok.”

 Darth tilted his head to the side in thought, “You are going up against the hordes of Mardock’s monsters?”

 “Yes, and I would be honored to have you join us, if you would have it.”

 Darth broke into a grin. “I would gladly join for the opportunity to learn the mechanics of those cannons.”

 “So it’s settled,” said Lady, “you will be traveling with us. Grab your belongings, and we’ll get you a new set of leather.”

 Darth returned to his encampment and packed his things methodically. He had a place for everything and knew exactly how much he could carry, knowledge gained from his constant travels. He paused when he came across two peculiar loaves of bread that had not been there before he had gone hunting.

 “I assume you are responsible for the bread, Lady?” Darth said with a quirked eyebrow as he glanced at her.

 “Ah, yes… before the explosions I had decided to leave some food the owner of the camp.”

 “Why?”

 “Because you might have needed it.”

 “And the possibility of me being a bandit or thief didn’t bother you?”

 “No. Only that you were human and might have needed help.”

 Darth laughed as he finally packed the bread away into a sack.

 “Oh?”

 “The fact that I am human and neither bandit nor thief means that I exceed expectations. I’m in a good position.”

 Lady laughed and turned as the party moved to catch up with Lady’s army, her three newest recruits in tow. She looked out towards the sun as it hung low in the sky, preparing for its decent. They had about two hours left of sunlight, which meant that her army had started setting up camp not too far away.

 “I hope you know how to defend an encampment,” Darth enquired after a few minutes. “The forest here is not so quiet at night.”

 “We have wooden barricades that we transport with us to encircle the camp, and plenty of firelight. We also rotate watch heavily and in groups.”

 “That might be enough. I will probably be up with your men then. I’ve grown use to working with little sleep.”

 “You may do as you wish so long as you can march in the day.”

 “Won’t be a problem.”

 They rounded a bend in the road and came onto the encampment, with Sir White waiting at the edge. Above him, Lady’s family crest rippled in the breeze, bringing a smile to her face. The lion stood strong, representing undaunted courage, supporting a relatively simple shield. A red bar cut across the top of the shield for strength and magnanimity, while a black chevron for constancy stood out on the blue background for their belief in truth.

 “Sir White, could you find us an extra tent for our latest recruit. I’ll go make sure we have enough rations to spare for our meals.”

 “Yes, I’ll set it up as well, my Lady.” Sir White turned and found Parune following him.

 “I’ll help you get the tent up; it’s a pain to do it by yourself.”

 Sir White Smiled at Parune and did not protest as they went in search for the supplies cart.

 Mearm silently watched the others before turning to his own tent in deep thought. He wondered how Lady could just blindly pick up any individual and trust them immediately. Instinct said not trust anyone in times like these. Human or not, there were spies who were loyal to Mardok, and they could lie anywhere. Just as frightening were those who worshiped the Nether and had become corrupted by its twisted power. So how could Lady tell that he and Parune were not among them, let alone the newest member, Darth? He sighed heavily and laid down on his bedroll, propping his arms under his head and waited for Parune to come find him, like he knew he would. He needed to talk to the person he trusted most.

 Outside, Lady returned and caught sight of Darth walking back towards camp.

 “You’re Blond?” Lady said a bit incredulously as Darth reappeared, cleaned up in his new leather armor, the soot finally rid from his skin and hair.

 “Yeah, so?” Darth seemed a bit confused to the statement, until he realized that the earlier explosion had darkened not just his skin and clothes but his hair as well. He let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. “I will have to keep that in mind as a disguise option, if it had tricked you so well.”

 Night fell upon the encampment and Parune found himself sitting within the shared tent of his closest friend, who appeared troubled. Rather than starting the conversation himself, he sat on his cot and drank his mead, waiting for Mearm to find his words.  Silence passed over the pair for some time. After a long while, Mearm finally licked his lips and spoke softly.

 “I want your opinion.”

 Parune nodded as he watched Mearm, who had glanced over in his direction before continuing to stare with thought at the curves in the lining of the tent.

 “Does something seem off about Lady?

 Parune gave Mearm a sidelong glance, knowing where this was going with Mearm’s inherent distrust of people, but gave his honest thoughts.

 “Yes, there seems to be something going on in that head of hers. I’m not quite sure what it is, but she always seems to be listening to things that we can’t hear. It’s rather peculiar.”

 “Do you think Mardok is controlling her?”

 “I can’t say, but I don’t believe so…she seems to be struggling with something, but I think it’s more complicated than that. Rumor has it, the shard in her chest was cursed, and that it could be affecting her.”

 “From what I’ve heard she was recently injured in combat, and that she healed remarkably fast.”

 “You are aware of her fortitude as well then, and you are wondering if the cursed fragment is giving her power.”

 “Power corrupts.” Mearm said flatly before continuing with his questions. “Do you trust her judgments?”

 “So far she has not given me reason otherwise. I understand that you don’t like that she would, seemingly without thought, take Darth in without knowing anything about him. You two are polar opposites when it comes to your ideas on humanity.”

 There was a long pause from Mearm before he turned to look squarely at Parune.

 “There is something comical to the idea that we can really impose our will on humanity.”

 “I don’t think she is trying to do that...I believe that she honestly means what she said.”

 “She has yet to realize what this enormous and cold universe is capable of.”

 “You may be right, but I don’t think we have the entire picture just yet.” Parune looked down into his stein and frowned with the bitter thoughts that had entered his mind. “However, if we are to truly have vengeance, I believe we should continue to follow her.”

 Mearm nodded in agreement, but still had reservations about Lady and her optimistic views on humanity. He fell silent again, letting his mind mull over the conversation. Parune, feeling weary, placed his stein on the floor and lay down, taking a moment before speaking up.

 “I’d like to believe that this cannot be all that there is to life.” Not expecting a response from Mearm he continued. “After we’ve survived this…I’d like to rebuild Thundersnow… somewhere far away from all this.”

 Mearm smiled faintly. “Yes, we should.”

Return to Table of Contents

[Sigurther]

That which Mardok thinks he has afflicted Lady with as a weakness he can exploit, Malice will turn into a strength that will be his undoing.

[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 9

 The next day’s march was slow as their cartographer noted that they were close to location they most suspected would be home to Mardok’s forces. A lone scout spearheaded the army’s movement, while others maintained a perimeter around the main force. All had been given specific instructions to turn back as soon as there was any sighting of enemy forces. They could not afford to lose their tactical advantage.

 It had been half a day’s march and Lady was brimming with nervousness and excitement. In the distance she saw the figure of her scout, returning far sooner than she had anticipated. She encouraged her horse forward and rode out to her scout, not wanting to wait for him to return with the news she had already guessed.

 “My Lady, there is an enemy encampment not far from here, as well as a tower about a full day’s march from here. It must be quite the structure to be visible this far out.”

 “Good. The men will be disappointed when I give the order that there will be no fires tonight. We don’t want to alert them to our presence, we need that upper hand.”

 “Shall I return and continue to monitor the enemy?”

 “No. I wish to organize a team myself to get a good look at our opponent. You may rest for the time being.”

 Turning on her horse, Lady rode back to where her men rested. Her heart was pounding in excitement. It was almost time to go to battle, but she wanted her trusted Captain of the Guard to be with her.

 She slid out of her saddle and landed next to her new recruits, who were busy listening to Sir White explain how to patch broken armor when full repair could not be acquired. Sir White paused as Lady approached them, the biggest grin that he had ever seen on her face.

 “Good news, everybody. We draw close to our enemy.”

 Everyone’s interest picked up as Lady continued.

 “I want to get a look at the forces for myself. Sir White, I assume you are coming along?”

 “I feel we should leave this matter to the scouts,” he protested. “It dangerous, and this is exactly the role they were trained for.”

 “Indeed it is, but I would feel more confident facing an army I’ve seen.”

 Sir White protested no further, knowing that she would not budge once she started.

 Lady turned and looked at her newest recruits and smiled.

 “You three should also come along as well. It will be a good opportunity to see what you’re getting yourselves into.”

 All three gave an affirmative answer.

 Darth’s grin ran from ear to ear, the urge for a fight peaking within him.

 “Remember,” Lady said, “we are to maintain stealth. If they should discover our presence this whole campaign will be at risk.” She hoped that would quell him, but his grin only slightly straightened.

 “The area is a thick forest of colossal trees, whose branches grow long and lush, so we should all have plenty of cover. We will break into teams of two, except for Darth who insists that he works best alone. Mearm and Parune, you will go to the east side of the camp. Darth you will approach from the west end, and Sir White and I will be stationed at the south.”

 Darth found himself some five hundred feet from the west end of the encampment, wondering what he was looking at. He had expected the usual forces of the enemy, but what he saw now was either a monster, or someone who had fallen off the ugly tree and managed to hit every branch on the way down. Just as he thought to classify it as a revolting zombie, another walked up with the same pustule features, causing him to hesitate. They looked humanoid, dressed in armor and carrying golden swords, but they lacked the bumbling unorganized manner that the undead seemed to possess. They looked less than human; things were disproportioned even at a distance, their hands looked swollen and their skin was a pink mottled fleshy tone covered in boils, and at points it looked as though it had sloughed off, revealing white bone underneath.

 He had never encountered anything like these creatures in his seclusion. Had these once been human, or were they new beings that darkness had spawned? Darth skimmed the tents of the encampment, spotting several more. Each was dressed in leather armor and carried a golden sword, and donned a golden helm.

 Darth worried as to what their role within Mardok’s army might be and wanted to get a better idea of what they were up against, but could get no closer. The likelihood of being spotted was too high. He could, however, get them to come to him. Smiling at the thought, he began plotting while his sharp eyes scouted the nearest creatures.

 Mearm and Parune shared the same disgusted look, with Mearm’s lip slightly curled into a snarl from the revulsion. Among the ranks or Mardok’s pig men they saw a man, one who had lived within Thundersnow before its fall.

 “Traitor!” Mearm hissed under his breath before spitting on the ground, cursing the name. Parune gave sideways glance to his comrade, who was all but brimming for hatred for those who had abandoned humanity.

 Parune spotted out of his peripherals some strange looking contraptions boiling off at the edge of camp, producing odd clouds of smoke and a foul odor. Surely, he thought, the fumes would be harmful, hence their being kept so far from the main forces. He tapped Mearm on the shoulder and indicated his find, signaling for Mearm to follow.

 They crawled along the ground, ever so slowly, and after what felt like an eon of inching along, came to the crates near the edge of the forest. There they found odd colored liquids, heated within glass flasks. They pulled their undershirts over their noses to blot out the stench.

 Mearm wrote in the dirt, “Alchemy?”

 Nodding, Parune looked around, hoping for some sort of item he could take back.

 Alchemy, or the brewing of potions and enchantment of items, had been heard of in faraway lands, but nobody today could claim to have honestly witnessed the practice. It was even frequently written in legends, but the art had been lost over the centuries, a result of inaccurate records, or records kept only in lost languages.

 Among the odd items were strange reddish bulb shaped plants which he could only guess were fungi. They looked beyond anything natural, clustered in a pile by the brewing stand. A valuable prize they would make, but there was too much risk in reaching for them. Parune felt a tap on his shoulder, and glanced over to where Mearm was pointing.

 Before them was a book, seemingly defying gravity as it hovered just above the obsidian alter. Suddenly aware of his hanging jaw, Parune sealed his mouth and scribbled in the dirt before erasing it. “We need to get that book.” Nodding in agreement, Mearm studied the area around the book. There was some protection in the nearby shrubs, but they would not conceal them completely. It would be an interesting challenge, if only some of the blasted bloated pink rotting creatures would wander off.

 Suddenly there was a sharp squeal from in the distance, a horrifying guttural noise that caused Mearm and Parune to cover their ears impulsively. Mearm and Parune held still, all but willing themselves to become a part of the underbrush, not daring a glance for fear of being spotted. They listened to the grunting huffing noises of the decaying pink creatures. The clatter of armor moved away from them, and Mearm seized the moment to belly crawl for their target. Parune followed, swearing in his head the entire time, thinking this would be a damned bad time to be captured.

 They arrived at the strange obsidian alter, the book hovering above rotated in the air and fluttering a few pages before landing resting page in particular, whose symbols were incomprehensible to the two of them. Debating for a moment as to what would happen if they just grabbed the book, Mearm reached into his leather pouch and pulled out a scrap of paper and quill, scribbling the design of the alter. It would be impossible to lug the obsidian pedestal around with them, but seemed to be something that they could build, given the time and materials. Parune kept a sharp eye out for the creatures return, worried they may lose interest in whatever had pulled them away. All too soon did this occur.

 Nudging Mearm, Parune made a last second decision that he hoped he wouldn’t regret, and snatched the floating tome. There was no resistance from the book as Parune tucked it under his breastplate. Tome in tow, the two of them returned to the ground and crawled back into the forest.

 They used the comfort of trees to avoid the guards outlining the encampment and placed their steps carefully so as to minimize foot prints. It was a tedious and long process, but the two of them silently worked in unison, using hand signals for communication, scouting ahead and carefully picking their way back to the encampment. Both of them wondered on the journey home if it was one of their companions who had been the reason for their good fortune in obtaining the book, but also worried if there was going to be one less individual returning.  

 Darth sat atop of a tree branch watching two fumbling rotting creatures try to figure out where the object of their searching had vanished off to. He had been forced to hide in the tree after a stray gust of wind brought his scent into the nostrils of the pustule monsters. It wasn’t exactly what he had planned, but Darth was easily able to adapt to the situation.

 The beasts looked as if undead men had been melded with swine, their stature human, but their heads possessing long snouts that revealed tusks piercing out of their mouths. They had humanoid hands capable of wielding the golden weapons, but their legs were bent with hooves. Their festering bodies stunk with death as rotting bits of flesh had been peeled back, revealing muscle, bone and organs, out to putrefy in the open. Flies and other small insects had made comfortable homes inside of these wet crevices, allowing small maggots and other unnamed writhing things to wiggle just under the skin. How they could smell anything past their own bodies was beyond Darth.

 They didn’t seem particularly intelligent, but their noses proved to be a problem. The creatures stooped to the ground where Darth had been crouched moments before, their nostrils huffing up the air in the spot. Their snouts wiggled, moving the underbrush around as if searching for something under all the pine needles, then the nearest slowly crawled on all fours towards Darth’s tree.

 Darth’s eyes glanced towards the other undead pig-man, whose back faced the tree, searching through the river trail that he had taken to get here. With his breath held, Darth watched as the creature directly under him followed his scent to the roots of the tree before standing, the nose all but dragging along the bark of the trunk before looking directly up. It met with Darth’s sword, as he leapt down, slicing cleanly though the decomposing flesh and severing off its head.

 The commotion turned the remaining undead pig-creature around, and its sword had just enough time to swing down, blocking Darth’s blade.

 The swine parried each of Darth’s strikes, and with a powerful push, it took the offense. Darth blocked with all his speed and strength as the swine’s steel connected with his own. With unnatural speed and power, the swine began to gain the upper hand. Darth paced back to gain some room, his arm becoming numb with each strike, but the soil proved slippery this close to the river. The swine noticed the slightest slip in Darth’s footing and pushed forward, sending Darth sliding back in the mud.

 The swine brought its golden blade down upon Darth, but met only the stone below the mud. Darth’s sword pressed up into the swine’s chest, finding a clean path between the ribs and out the other side. He twisted the blade and looked up into the black orbs that were the creature’s eyes, and swore it smiled as the skin around the tusks split. A deep, last breath was drawn.

 Darth’s hand reacted on instinct alone as he drew his dagger and thrusted it up underneath the chin, the blade splitting brittle bone, through the roof of the mouth and into the brain. The creature shuddered, black eyes going wide, the intended shout of alarm dying before it began, as the creature staggered, then toppled over.  

 Mearm and Parune were the first to return to the rendezvous point and waited patiently. Agreeing to keep their prize secret until Lady returned, they tried not to let concern mount as the minutes passed. It was a half hour before Mearm looked up towards the sky, noting the location of the sun and frowned.

 “What’s that,” remarked Parune, who returned his attention to the forest. In the distance there was a gleam of gold as an individual approached. Mearm and Parune reached for their weapons instinctively, remembering the grotesque creatures of Mardok’s forces, but relaxed once they realized that it was Darth’s grinning features that adorned the golden helm, the new sword swung over his shoulder along with a liquid stained sack.

 It seemed that Lady’s earlier concern for Darth being the one to find trouble wherever he went was right on the mark. Mearm shook his head while Parune could not help but snicker at the sight of Darth’s gleefulness over his trophies.

  “Something tells me that you didn’t just stumble across those,” Parune quipped as Darth approached.

  “Your eyes must be bad Parune, I’ve always had these,” Darth responded with a smirk. Mearm let out a laugh, and after a look around Darth asked, “Is Lady back?”

 “Not yet. There was a commotion while we were at the monster’s camp, but we couldn’t see anything.” Parune noted as he glanced back to the woods, hoping to see the figures before the sun set.

 “Thant was my doing; those creatures have noses on them that wolves would envy.”

 “I take it you got a good look at them. What are they?”

 “Have a look!” Darth said as he threw the bloody bag to the ground. It opened, exposing the hideous face of the pig man.

 “OOGA BOOGA!” Darth shouted, startling the two before laughing uproariously. “The rest of him is floating down the river, if you want to see what the rest of him looks like.”

 The two caught their composure and glared at Darth, who continued to chuckle. They turned their attention to the head, wondering what unholy magic conjured such creatures. Further discussion was interrupted as Mearm glanced back to the forest and nudged Parune.

 Smiling, Parune turned, expecting to see Lady and White coming down the path, but his expression changed as he frowned in concern. “That can’t be good.”

Return to Table of Contents

[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 10

 Lady and Sir White moved swiftly through the forest back to the encampment after a distressing scouting run. New to Lady were the horrific beasts which now padded the ranks of Mardok’s army, and the sight of those men betraying their kind induced rage, but there were far fewer combatants among the ranks than she expected. Under other circumstances this would be welcome news, but something gave Lady and White the feeling that there was something more going on here.

 “It doesn’t make sense,” White murmured softly, despite the distance they had placed between themselves and Mardok’s forces. The forest was thick and provided ample cover, but still there was an unease.

 “Hang on a moment,” Lady said as she halted at the base of a tall pine tree, glancing up. She jumped and reached for the lower branches, but the effort was in vain. “Can you reach one of those branches, Sir White?”

 “My Lady is almost as tall as me,” White said with a smile. “If you cannot reach it, I will surely be just as unfortunate. Here let me lend you a hand.”

 “By the Gods I hope I don’t grow anymore,” Lady commented as Sir White laced his fingers together into a stirrup, kneeling down so that Lady could climb up.

 “Why not?” White chuckled as Lady carefully stepped into his hands, using his shoulder for support as he lifted her towards the branch.

 “I fear I will never be able to look men in the eye at this rate.” Irritation at her so-called plight was apparent in her voice.

 Lady grasped the branch and heard White chuckle underneath her. She sounded more like an awkward young woman, uncomfortable with her body, than the Duchess she was born to be and the general she had decided to become.

 “Laugh all you want, but I don’t want to be a blasted tree.”

 Sir White gave her an extra push, and with the added momentum, Lady managed to hoist herself up onto the branch.

 “May I ask what my Lady is doing then, communing with her soon to be brethren trees?”

 The death glare Sir White received from the redheaded girl only made his grin spread from ear to ear. This was the most light hearted he had seen her in ages, and despite the circumstances, he was going to see how long it would last.

 “I have a feeling and wanted to get a look over the trees.”

 Sir White shook his head and accepted her vague words, watching her disappear into the tree above.

 The wind was blowing, making the ascent difficult, but Lady made sure of each footing before continuing with the next step. By the top her hands were covered in sap, pine needles threaded her hair, and bits of bark dusted her eyes. And yet the view from above the tree tops pushed the fears and worries of upcoming battles and the future of her nation from her mind.

 The snow covered peaks loomed over the horizon, piercing the sky, drawing Lady’s eyes along their ridges until she spotted what had been missing before. A plume of dust that hugged the air in the valley and wrapped around the other side of the mountain range. A tell-tail sign of a fast marching army, headed in the direction of the Dukedom.

 “There they are.” she murmured to herself, cursing Mardok’s name as she begun to climb down.

 She pondered what she should do as she slowly descended the tree. The army was fresh, and bound to reach the Dukedom before them even if Lady’s forces didn’t engage the garrison here. She could split her soldiers and send the calvary back though the mountains, assuming the pass was clear this late into the year, and they might be able to intercept Mardok’s forces and inform Lucern. However, that idea was incredibly risky. Despite the reduced forces here, she was not confident that they could achieve victory as a split force, and she was left unsure what to do.

 The castle was greatly defended with its self-repairing walls, but few skilled warriors filled the ranks behind those walls. There was also the question of Wolf’s safety. She wouldn’t put it past the council to use an attack on Lucern as an excuse to seize power from Wolf, claiming inability or incompetence.

 A knot tightened in her stomach. Things were quickly turning bad, but her soldiers still had the advantage of surprise against the garrison here.  Hopefully her kingdom could hold out against the army long enough for her return.

 As she made her descent, a sharp pain exploded into her leg, and she lost her footing. She cried out in shock as she tried to regain her composure, but her leg was unresponsive and her grip was lost, leaving her to plummet through the foliage.

 Lady was dimly aware as branches beat across her body and her hands blindly reached out to grab anything. But her momentum was too great, and every branch she grasped snapped and ripped the skin from her palms. She found hold on a sturdy branch, snapping her body and slowing her decent, but the force of the motion ripped her arm from its socket. She screamed in agony and fear as her hand went lame, losing its grip on the branch, and her fall continued.

 The branches grew in size and began to slow her decent, her body rebounding off of them until there were simply no more. For a second she was in free fall, the tree seemingly very tall from this point of view. But that instant was abruptly ended as she collided into something not quite so hard as the ground.

 Sir White had seconds to act after the arrow struck. He had remained unseen by Lady’s assailant at first, but as Lady’s limp body crashed into his arms, knocking him to the ground, an arrow struck the dirt inches from his face.

 White rolled toward the tree with Lady still in his arms, not wanting to give the archer a chance for a second shot. He worried about causing more harm to Lady, but the other option was no option at all. White held Lady’s disturbingly limp body with one arm and used his other to push himself up onto his feet. He gingerly slid her out of his arm and set her against the tree, out of line of the arrows. His sword had never drew so cleanly from its sheath.

 With his back pressed against the pine, White glanced around the trunk, attempting to spot the skeleton’s location. An arrow whistled past his ear, and White dashed to the next tree, his movements faster than the enemy’s ability to notch another arrow. White darted out again, weaving between the arrows and trees, closing the distance between him and his target.

 Each arrow flew wide as White evaded every well aimed shot, only one arrow even managing to unaffectedly glance off of his armor. There was no contest between the two fighters, and the skeleton attempted to run from White. White’s blade slashed out, severing the spinal column, and the bones crumpled to the dirt. Whatever dark magic had animated those bones faded, the unholy miasma that created life seeping from the remains.

 “You did not expect me upon you so swiftly, did you?” White said with a smirk while sheathing his sword, “Neither did I.”

 He returned to Lady’s side and found her still breathing, more than he had known when she had hit the ground. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and inspected her body for broken bones.

 Her hands were a bloody mess and her face had an awful gash across the forehead, along with countless scratches. Her body, however, seemed whole, thanks to the leather armor that now rested on her no better than the torn rags of a beggar.

 The shaft of the arrow in her thigh had broken off in the fall, leaving the barb within her. White ripped off bits of his undershirt and did his best to cover up worst of the wounds, but there was not enough to work with. He was not a doctor, but he could at least slow the bleeding until he got her to one.

 Lady groaned as he wrapped the bandage around her leg, her left eye fluttering as it attempted to open, the right swollen shut.

 “Try not to move, my Lady, you were badly injured by the fall.”

 “My chest hurts,” she said with a cringe. She turned her head to the side to cough up bloody foam, and White’s face paled at the sight.

 Lady’s coughing fit resided after a moment. “Fine way to learn how to fly,” she murmured.

 Sir White shook his head at her ability to make jokes in such a state, and gently pulled her up with her good arm so that she was in a sitting position. “Let’s get back to camp, you can tell me what you were doing up there later.” Turning his back towards her, White crouched down so Lady could reach him.

 “Wrap your arm around my neck if you can.”

 She cringed from the pain and managed to clutch onto White’s chest, but found she could do little more and cursed. White’s hands were there though, sliding under her legs and hoisting her up onto his back. Lady did her best to hold on, but found it difficult with only one arm.

 White adjusted her for comfort the best he could before he broke into a jog, hoping her body could handle the motion. Whatever pain she was in, Lady made no protest, despite how the jerky movements made her body throb and her head spin.

 Opting to not look at the blurring scenery, Lady closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. “This is also a fine way to have my first piggyback ride.” There was a tone of humor in her words under the pain, but she was too tired to continue on and grew silent again. The pain in her arm reverberated as they moved, making her nauseous. She tried not to think as she squeezed her eyes shut, and soon wandered out of consciousness.

 White allowed her to drift and moved as quickly as he could. She wasn’t immortal, despite her miraculous healing abilities, and he had no idea the extent of the damage.

 He paused to adjust Lady, who had begun to slide. Lady regained enough coherency to whisper against his neck. “Thank you…for taking care of me…if I was stronger maybe I could protect you.” White smiled a bit as Lady drifted off. Visions danced in Lady’s head of her brother being chased by an unknown enemy as she lost consciousness.

 Time passed and White found himself racing the sun as it began its tedious decent over the forest tops.

 Lady woke, her eyes fluttering as they attempted to adjust to the darkness, and she found that she could not see. Panic surrounded her, her hands blindly stretching out to find something, anything, and noticed she could see herself…but nothing else. She could feel nothing… there was nothing there at all. She realized as her body shivered that there was no ground beneath her feet, no sky above, just the dearth of everything. This was not the darkness brought about by the absence of light, but a darkness created from the void between the stars.

 Screwing her eyes shut, Lady sought comfort with the darkness under her own eyelids, rather than the eternal nothing before her that clawed at her sanity.

 Use me… The familiar voice that was her own echoed around her.

 She opened her eyes and was confronted with the figure of her doppelganger, standing before her. A vista of a barren plane dotted by obsidian pillars filled the figure’s backdrop, stretching into the starless sky behind it. Lady realized that she was also standing, not knowing when she had regained awareness of her body.

 “Where am I?” Lady inquired as she slowly pulled away from the apparition, wishing that Malice had chosen another face.

 Malice gave a wicked smile, causing Lady to wonder if she ever possessed such an expression. You are where our destinies collide. The end of the universe, the end of time, the end of all things…

 Lady pulled away, holding herself tightly against a coldness she could not escape. “I don’t want this.”

 Malice smiled with a patient look on its face. Its unending life left it with ample time to wait, for it would have what it wanted.

 Your people thought you were pierced by an obsidian shard from the Nether portal, but they were wrong… so was Mardok.

 Lady’s eyes glared as she stared into the calm, violet pools that mirrored her own.

 Your fate will bring you here, where the shard was formed, in time.

 Shivering, Lady held her arms, finding that a part of her just wanted all of this to stop. She wanted to go home, wanted to see her brother again, wanted things she could not have. “Why me?” She asked meekly.

 Because I am in you… as I am in all men’s hearts.

 “But why me!” Lady shouted, desperate for something. She didn’t want to find the portal that would lead her here, despite her mind showing her vague dreams to its location. She didn’t want to open it, in spite of her heart whispering such desires. She wanted nothing to do with Malice, even with its constant promise to give her more than she could imagine.

 We are meant for one another, as a key fits into a lock. Malice’s hand outstretched towards Lady, pointing a long, bony finger, which hardly resembled her own anymore, at her chest. The shard pulsated, the vibration causing pain and Lady to wince from it. Lady grabbed her chest and glowered at Malice.

 “I was not predestined for anything; I choose my own path.”

 Malice smiled, but with none of the humor that was there before, just that enduring patience.

 Find the end portal at the edge of the world, at the bottom of the earth, and it will guide you to where the universe meets the void, where even the brightest of stars cannot see.

 “I will not open the gate.” Lady hissed as the shard persisted in vibrating, dancing in her chest.

 Malice continued as if she had not spoken. I am the End of all things; no beast, no king, no mountain stands before me.

 “Even if you are a god…you cannot control me…you know that I am aware of that.”

 Malice’s face twisted into mirth at the defiant nature of the girl before it and murmured, Strange mortals with curious beliefs. Lady hesitated, not sure what to expect of Malice’s

 reaction. Anger, impatience, something other than it mocking her will.

 “If you are truly the end of all things, then what makes you think I will help you?”

 Malice contorted Lady’s visage, as if there were muscles under that skin that had no right to be there. Fear leapt up into Lady’s throat as the face transformed before her to that of Mardok’s.

 To prevent the suffering of those most important to you from this man.

 Lady’s hands twitched at the sight of the individual who killed her parents. Even though she knew it was an aberration, the abhorrence for him welled up under her disposition. Shaking her head, trying to clear her thoughts, Lady diverted her eyes from the object of her malevolence. “I would not accept your help to destroy him in exchange of ending all things.”

 Mardok’s face laughed as if what she had said were hilarious, causing Lady’s teeth to clench. All existence ends with me… in time, no matter the path it walks. Some may find themselves quicker at my embrace than others.

 “You speak as though you were death incarnate.”

 No, no not quite, but rather close. Mardok leered at Lady, causing her stomach to churn from the sight.

 “I don’t think I understand what you are then.”

 I am the end of all things, but using me will not end the universe as you believe. That would go against what I want.

 “What do you want?”

 To be used for what I was intended for. A simple answer that only raised more questions.

 “And what is that?”

 To lend my power to those who ask of it.

 “You want me to use your power to slaughter people?”

 I do not see the error in this; it is not wrong, for I do not know what that is. It is you who named me because I do not hold myself to such trivial moralities. Mardok’s visage tilted its head to the side in consideration. I find you humans to be quite interesting; even if you are a worthless, greedy lot.

 “I do not think wanting to protect the people I care about is being greedy.”

 Isn’t it though?

 “I value life, Malice…”

 Never mind them. People are of no value.

 Malice’s words cut Lady as she realized that suffering was nothing to it, as it did not know what suffering was. It had never felt pain or sorrow, and did not know what they were, in any way. Such things were beyond it.

 Life itself is only a vision… a dream… nothing exists save the void… And you… and you are but a thought…A vagrant thought…Dare to change your vision… Dream of more than what you are.

 Searing pain shot down her arm, and Lady doubled over in pain, screaming. Her mind became aware of arms, arms that were holding her down and she began to fight them, trying to escape from them and the pain.

 “Lady!” A voice shouted. “Please don’t struggle!”

 Lady’s eyes opened, Sir White above her, his face written with worry as he and others held her down. One by one the faces came into focus, and names were placed. She wasn’t trapped in the endless void with Malice anymore… she was… awake.

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[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 11

 The doctor leaned over Lady, attempting to ease the concern of those gathered around. “I apologize, my Lady, but I had to set your arm back in your shoulder and figured it would be best while you still lie unconscious. I did not know it would be enough to bring you back.”

 She panted heavily as her eyes darted around, not quite positive of her surroundings, searching for the smirking face of Mardok. Moments later calm took her, and she relieved everyone as she hoarsely murmured. “It’s quite alright…thank you.”

 The doctor nodded and set to finishing his work, cleaning and bandaging Lady. No one was surprised when she called Sir White over to help her stand. “How long have I been unconscious?”

 “Nearly the whole night, it is almost dawn.”

 Lady winced as the torn muscle from the arrow threatened to give out under her weight. White’s arm was around her waist and helped her limp over to the entrance of the tent. “What happened to the others?”

 “Don’t worry, they had much better expeditions than us.” White paused as Lady pulled away from him so that she could stand on her own. She didn’t want to appear broken before her countrymen, they needed the moral boost of witnessing her stand on her own two feet after being carried back unconscious.

 The group outside the tent looked up as Lady and White exited, their faces aglow to see Lady was alright. Many of her soldiers had gathered around, and at the forefront were Parune, Mearm, and Darth, ready to bombard Lady with questions.

 But something caught Lady’s attention, an emanating of power which called to her. Malice, she thought, fearing that it called to her once more. But no, this was something different, much weaker, though still powerful. Something tangible.

 She raised her hand, indicating to Parune, quieting the others. “What is that?” She asked.

 Parune produced the tome from under his arm. “Mearm and I found it in the camp. It seemed important, so we took it.”

 Had that been the reason for their discovery? Perhaps, but that was not important at this point. Lady took the book and held it within her hands.

 “It’s written in a language that we have never seen.” Mearm continued.

 Lady arbitrarily looked at a page and frowned at the symbols before handing it back to Parune. “My brother was attempting to decipher ancient texts like this. He was able to create alchemic potions once he figured out their measurement system. I need to get this to him, there might be information we can use in here.” She paused for a moment before glancing to Sir White. “Who is our fastest rider?”

 Sir White stepped forward. “Lady, we’ve already sent riders to warn Pylos.”

 “Yes, but they do not have this tome.”

 Darth looked at Lady inquisitively. “I probably am, but how’s a bunch of paper going to help defend a city,” Darth protested. He didn’t like the idea of abandoning battle here, but it seemed there would be quite the fight at the castle.

 “I can’t be sure, but there is power in it, and nobody here can say what kind. Wolf, however, may know what to do with it, and just maybe it can give the city an edge. I need you to take our swiftest horse and ride for Pylos.”

 Darth frowned as several of the soldiers nearby who had yet to grow trust in the newcomers were vocal in protect. He grumbled to himself, but was not going to back down and decided to throw it in their face. “You realize they all think you’re an idiot for trusting me, someone who you just met and holds no allegiance to your Dukedom or your nation, with something like this.”

 “Yes, I’m aware.”

 A thin grin snuck out the edge of Darth’s lips. “That’s settled then. Parune. The book.”

 Parune stepped forth, handing the tome over to Darth, who tucked it snuggly under his arm. “Gentlemen,” he nodded to the others before turning back to Lady. “I’ll expect to see you in Pylos once you’ve mopped up the mess here.”

 “Of course.”

 Darth nodded and turned, off to make the ride to Pylos.

 Soldiers parted to make way for him, but many of them doubted this decision. None, though, would speak up against Lady.

  “Lady,” White said, turning everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand, “it’s time we devise a strategy for approaching Mardok’s army.”

 Lady nodded, “Yes, we-” Screams shattered the bustling camp, cutting Lady’s words short. She turned towards the source and saw figures in the eastern tree line firing upon the encampment. Without thought, her commanding voice rose above the confusion to defend the encampment. Bowmen dashed to cover and began returning volleys to the tree line, while swordsmen with shields held above their heads dashed up the hill under the rain of arrows to where the skeletons resided. Lady wondered what had happened to the guards who had been defending the encampment as she dashed to the tent for her armor.

 This is bad, she thought to herself, fumbling with her armor. We’ve been caught in the open. With her armor in place, Lady dawned her helmet and exited her tent. Her forces now clashed with a regiment against the northern edge of camp. For a moment her mind froze in fear. She had never encountered an army before. Small skirmishes yes, but never an entire army.

 A fine tremble started in her hands as she saw what seemed like an endless array of creatures, surging from the forest upon the encampment. Her mind betrayed a small thought, but a devastating one to her beliefs.

 Malice, if I pray to you, will you answer?

 The betrayal of her own fears snapped Lady back to herself, the tremor having disappeared under her revulsion of such a stray thought. Lady dashed for a stray horse and leapt upon it, shouting at nearby soldiers orders to concentrate their forces inward, not to spread out thin. Drawing her sword, Lady rode towards the front of the gate, where hours before she had been carried though on White’s back. She had no time to give words of courage to her soldiers, no confidence other than the bravery of a girl who without hesitation moved to the front lines to cut down those who tried to destroy them.

 There is no fairness, no grace, no nobility in war. All fight for survival, no matter the cruelty or how bloody it is. Some are more vicious while other’s methods are more final, all struggle for the single purpose of life.

 Lady’s speed on land proved effective as the battle dragged on, her horse having been quickly cut down by many slicing blades. Even she was taken surprise by the monsters’ speed. Never had they encountered undead that could fight so well. As tireless as she was, her sword cut through her opponents with greater strength. But even as one foe fell, another seized the moment to strike.

 While slicing downward through the torso of a wretched pig-man, Lady’s side became exposed, long enough for a cultist to pin her with his spear. Her scream turned heads on the battle field and she, through lidded eyes ridden with pain stared down her enemy, one shaking hand, reached up to grab hold of the spear. Above the din of the clamor she heard a voice, someone screaming her name. Her violet eyes locked with the grinning cultist who twisted the spear in the wound, with intent to gut his victim. There was a sickening, heavy noise from behind the cultist, causing the grin to wilt away, the eyes rolling into the back of his head as an axe tore through the back of the head.

 Mearm was there, hoarsely calling out her name. Lady doubled over, both hands grasping the spear, trying to pull it out of her side. She was dimly aware as Mearm broke off the barbed tip which had passed clear through her, then helped her withdraw the shaft as she shrieked in agony. But that effort alone proved costly as Lady’s eyes glazed over, her strength gave out and all but collapsed in Mearm’s arms, having to be dragged away from the combat. Mearm did not hesitate as Lady spat out a mouthful of blood, stuttering. “Don’t waste time on me-” Coughing interrupted her as darker things were spilled between her lips, and she struggled to speak again. “Keep fighting…” It mattered not what she said to him at that moment, the wound was too severe, and despite Lady’s hand covering the injury to keep things inside of her body, there was also a trail of blood seeping down her back. Lady was dying.

 Lady’s head grew heavier as she barley registered the ground moving at her feet. The pain in her side was protesting every movement and her hand inside of her leather glove had become slippery and warm. She was dimly aware of the sounds of metal clashing around her, screams of horses as they were cut down by superior weapons and the cries of those dying.

 Lady managed to spit out a mouthful of blood onto the mud and croak out a devastated “No!” But the hands around her dragged her towards a waiting rider, who would take her to safety. “Wait…my people!” Her head twisted towards the scene of the battle and beheld her soldiers being slaughtered. The battle was turning for the worst as their weapons and armor were useless against the enchanted items. Through fading sight, Lady glimpsed instances of horror and death all around, and befell upon Sir White. His sword was caught in zombie bone from a fallen enemy and struggled to free it. He was caught unaware as a swift cultist bashed the side of his head with a mace, causing White’s body to crumple like a rag doll.

 Arms were pulling her up, helping her into the saddle, bringing her back from the slaughter and to those trying to rescue her. With the last bit of strength, she choked out. “I-I can’t leave here while-” Her eyes turned to Mearm’s, pleading him to let her go.  In that moment Mearm and Lady come to an understanding and he removed his hands from her.

 A startled shout comes from the rider as Lady frantically pulled away, adrenaline taking over the pain as she turned back to the battle. Her free hand drew out the short sword at her side and without hesitation rushed back into the field, cutting down monsters that stood in her path. Several fell to her sword, but the pain in her side slowed her movements and eventually drained away the reserves of her courageous efforts. The front of her body was a streak of red and her sword became heavier with every swing until at one last awkward slash of her sword the blade left her hand and she dropped to her knees. Darkness had crept in; claiming most of her vision, and pure stubbornness alone kept her consciousness.

 Death was winning the battle and taking everything important from her. Her soldiers were going to die here, her brother at the castle would not have reinforcements, and her people would die. Struggling against the heaviness of her body, her lips moved, inaudible to the battle around her a word was sighed.

 “…Malice.”

 Suddenly she could feel the malevolent deity in her mind, the weight of its presence threatening to crush out that last inch of strength she had left to speak.

 “I must-” Lady coughed up a bout of gore and rasped “Protect my people…”

 She could feel the deity in her mind, uncaring of what she decided, indifferent to the world and uninterested in preserving life and felt anger well up inside of her in retaliation to such apathetic nature. But the rage was enough to feed her will and the deity’s as she knew what she had to do now to finish what Mardok had started.

 Lady stood slowly, her words becoming laden with power before they were even uttered as an ancient and forgotten agreement between humanity and deities had formed millennia ago. The chaotic wills of survival stopped as the very essence of the world changed around them, causing monster and human alike to stare in trepidation at the sheer force of energy that rippled from the frail figure of a pale, blood soaked woman with hair that looked as though it were flames from the dawn began to speak. Her words echoed around the battlefield, like thunder paling overhead. Those close enough to her saw her pale blue lips were wetted with blood while her insides hung down to her hip. Most began to make the sign of protection in terror while others knelt in salute.

 “I…Lady of the Den…forfeit my life and pledge myself to you, the darkness between the stars, the end of all things and will walk your path of destruction knowing that not even death will stand in my way. And all shall know that I am the Lady of Malice.”

 The thousands of eyes were on her as Lady outstretched her hand and uttered a single word.

 “Perish.”

 Without warning the entire field was alight with red flames as every single monster spontaneously combusted from within. The scene was a cacophony of screams of dying creatures and frightened soldiers who fled from the quickly burning flesh. But Lady seemed uninterested in the horrific display as she walked through the retreating bodies of monsters and soldiers who backed away from her in fear rather than reverence.

 Her eyes finally found what they were looking for in the mess of tangled corpses and broken weapons. It was the body of Sir White.

 Malice stirred in her head and spoke as it felt its grasp on her waver.

 Soon you will be able to save your people, your brother and avenge those lost. Do not set one unimportant man against that.

 All of the power imaginable at the cost of one important man. Take the power…or decide that victory asked too high a price.

 Lady made her choice.

 There was only one thing that Malice knew how to do and in this particular instance, it could not imagine anything beyond that. Now it would learn. Lady finally had the power and the means to save all those around her within her grasp, but only as the capability to harm. She wanted to protect and with Malice she would be invincible.

 She knew for the rest of her life she would have to set her will against Malice every waking hour, even though she wanted what it offered her more than anything else.

 Malice whispered of victory over Mardock, but it had lost, and it now knew it. It had bound itself to her without discovering that she held a person’s life over a kingdom, and that all the power it could offer her to eliminate any who stood against her, had no power over her.

 Over an unimportant man.

 Lady knelt down next to Sir White’s body, feeling the terrible power that could only be given through hatred and cruelty frantically pulling away from the nature she was twisting it to be, and touched his forehead. Her bloody glove left a mar of color against the skin, but the contact was enough and she could feel consciousness return to his once lifeless body.

 Malice crumpled in her mind, having tried every seduction it could offer against Lady breaking the agreement. Its offers were scorned until it had no more promises and the entity was silent.

 Having broken the contract with Malice the power drained away to nothing, leaving Lady mortal again.

 Sir White’s eyes opened and for a moment thought he saw Lady smiling above him before exhaustion overcame him. Lady’s own eyes closed and her loss of blood finally caught up to her wounded body, causing her to collapse to the side unmoving.

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[Lady_Malice]

Chapter 12

 “Don’t pick at the stitches.”

 Parune glanced up at the back of Mearm’s head, wondering how he knew that he was at it again. “I can’t help it, my skin feels like it’s crawling.”

 Parune obeyed, leaving the wound alone for the moment, and took hold of the reigns once more. The remainder of Lady’s army marched now to Lucern as fast as could be managed, but mounts were tired, and the wounded could only be transported so quickly without risk of further injury.

 Parune nudged his horse forward to match Mearm’s, and glanced at his somber companion. “You look more dejected than usual.”

 The irritated look was worth the comment and Parune grinned, debating whether or not to harass him further, but it was Mearm who acted next.

 “And you are more infuriating than usual, for a man who almost lost an arm.”

 “Psh. You’re making it out to be worse than it actually is. No tendons were severed; it’s just a nasty bite.”

 “It would be fools luck that you miraculously were not infected. Even then you’ll probably die of a fever if you keep playing with the wound.”

 “I’m sure that some days you would enjoy that. Now what’s eating you? Its irritating to those of us that know you.”

 “Considering that is just you, I am more obliged to let you suffer.”

 Parune chuckled, his hand unconsciously rising to itch at the cloth covering his shoulder. Without warning Mearm’s arm reached over and punched Parune on the shoulder.

 Parune winced with a curse while rubbing his shoulder. “You’re going to tear the stitches.” But he was smiling as he said it. He couldn’t help the elation that he still felt from the battle, and the rising anticipation of the looming battle ahead.

 “With how you act, I take it that you did not see Lady, when she summoned the fire.” Mearm’s expression remained unchanged as his mind deliberated over what he had seen.

 “No, I was in the forest when it happened. We pushed their archers back into the woods where they wouldn’t be able to rain arrows on our main forces. But I did see some of what happened, masses of the enemy engulfed in flames, and yet... not a single scorch on the earth. What happened?”

 “She was dying when I found her. A soldier had spotted us and was going to carry her off, but the look on her face stopped me. She wanted to die in battle, not in a surgeon’s tent. I saw that wish on her face and let her go.” Mearm paused as he held the memories of what transpired in his mind before continuing. “I lost sight of her, in that last cathartic burst of energy that a dying warrior gets, only to hear her summoning some kind of magic… and then everything was in flames.” He paused for another moment. “It was terrifying.”

 Parune watched his friend, his mind mulling over the events of what he had witnessed. “Do we remain with her? Is vengeance so important?”

 Mearm sighed, torn over his own inability to decide. “At what cost? Where is she drawing power from? Who does she answer to?”

 Parune had no answers to give Mearm and remained silent as he rode, speaking up again as a thought came to him. “Did any of the soldiers burn?”

 “Not that I could see, but I did find the remains of the traitor.” Mearm gleamed a satisfied smirk on Parune.

 “Then those of the Dukedom were unharmed,” Parune offered as justification.

 “This time.” Mearm glanced at Parune and noted the satisfied smirk was gone.

 Parune glanced back at the cart transporting the duchess’ body, the grim discussion heavy on him.

 Lady’s consciousness was jarred back into itself as the wooden cart bounced over the rocky road. Cracking her eyes, she saw only the blue sky above her while the sounds of marching men and horses surrounded her. However, in that moment all Lady could focus on was the cerulean above her. It reminded her of her brother’s eyes, and without thinking she reached up as if she could grasp it. Her eyes focused on her still gloved hand, marred with dried blood. She drew her hand closer and bleakly stared at the gore that was not just her own, before letting her hand fall back to her side.

 Was this what victory felt like? If it was then it was hollow. A better word would be survival. Battered, broken, but alive. It wasn’t a good feeling, but many of her soldiers were still alive, and that she was thankful for. It took all of her effort not to think of what had happened on the battlefield, the memory too fresh in her mind, and the guilt of what she had started.

 Is this the path you would have chosen, father? Mother, I wonder if would you be afraid of me too?

 Bit by bit, she began to become more aware of her body and the pains that came with it. Her movement attracted a doctor, and while he climbed inside of the moving wagon he was joined by one of Lady’s generals who had been riding alongside the wagon. Lady struggled to listen as she was filled in on what had occurred since the battle, while the doctor carefully inspected her.

 She winced as the doctor cleaned the wound, sweat breaking out across her forehead. The general patiently waited for her to recover, to relay any orders she might give. He spared a glance at the wound as Lady’s eyes squeezed shut. All of her soldiers were curious about her condition.

 “Thank you.” Lady breathed in deeply as a sharp pain shot up from her wound. “That will be all for now.” She did not see the polite nod her general gave her before riding back to the front, so tightly shut were her eyes from the pain.

 It wasn’t long before lady was alone again in the cart. She found herself relieved to hear that Sir White was well and leading the army, and a selfish part of her enjoyed the break. The thought of Sir White also brought about a wave of thoughts that she was not ready to address yet. Nor could she afford to think about how the thought of his death had made her feel. How she wanted desperately to see him and yet was relieved to not have to see him at the same time. And even though she realized how she felt, and knew that it was Sir White who saved her from Malice, this was not the time nor place to feel this way. So she pushed down how she felt despite of herself.

 Within the next few weeks Lady managed to sit herself upon her horse and ride along with her men, but kept to the rear of the moving army, opting to let Sir White lead as long as she could allow. It was painful to ride and the sutures barely held in her skin. It was not her pride that kept her up, but the need to portray herself as strong to her soldiers, and the necessity to show that she was able to fight with them despite her overwhelming nausea from riding and tiredness that she felt. It was a façade and she knew it, but maybe she could hold things together if she could give the impression her injuries weren’t as severe as everyone thought.

 As the sun begun to set on their last day of travel, the now colder winds brought with them the sounds and smells of distant battle leaving Lady terrified in her saddle. Her heart raced as she hesitated, terrified of what she would see, of what she might have to do. Eyes had begun to settle on her as her soldiers waited to see her reaction. Curious and uncertain eyes watched to see if Lady would lead or blanch from war. She realized that she was too young, too inexperienced, and could not afford even the smallest uncertainty in her company’s presence, and now her very presence caused that uncertainty. Pushing her nervous horse forward and sitting straighter in her saddle, Lady moved to the front so she could be with the first to reach the pass.

 No sooner had she arrived did the forest break into the low hilled farm lands that surrounded the city, now burnt and black from Mardok’s army. Her eyes fell upon the constant heave and thrust of battle, the surging mass like an ocean that erupted up into explosion as the wall fired off its cannons into the monsters. She could see small human bands throughout the chaos, the largest near the city gates who were fighting desperately and defensively as the wall had failed them. Mardok’s army had the strength of Lucern bottled in the city and it would only be a matter of time before they fell from within.

 She waited for panic to take her as she watched the scene of Mardok’s army between her and her city. The vision of seeing Lucern under siege again brought back the flood of memories of her childhood and losing her parents.  The stray thought that not being quite mortal felt less than she remembered. Instead she felt vulnerable and inept.

 In spite of herself, she drew her sword, the sound ringing out before her hoarse voice took over, grabbing her soldier’s attention.

 “Come on men, it’s time to go home!”

 Digging her heals in, her horse leapt forward and with a resounding cry her army fanned around her. Following Lady was easy now, as they were all fighting for their homes, their family and friends who were left behind. The fear of their leader for the moment dissipated when all had the common want to protect what was their own. As Lady and her soldiers reached the rear guard of the army she had no time to witness anything but what lay in front of her as her sword rose and fell and rose and fell again, but in the corner of her vision she could see that her army kept pace with her.

 Across the battlefield near the city gates, the soldiers of Lucern began to notice that something was causing consternation within the enemy ranks. However, none on the ground could see what was causing disorder within the ranks. It was those on the wall who witnessed the familiar family banners across the battlefield, waving in the rapidly encroaching darkness. Horns erupted, signaling to all those fighting within the walls that Lady’s army returned. Elated with newfound hope there was a push back from the citizens of Lucern that finally pushed back the monster ranks out from the city.

 It was a long and bitter night and Lady lost many more people before it was over. Even when the tides turned in favor for Lucern, Mardok’s army was slow to acknowledge defeat. The remains of the army were fleeing now, Lady’s soldiers not giving pursuit as the cannons took their time picking off the straggling forces. Mardok had not been on the battlefield himself, only generals leading in his place. It was a cruel reminder that Lady had not reached her goal in finding his fortress.  That failure burned inside her heart as she wondered if she could ever end this ongoing nightmare. Battle weary and death weary, there was little rejoicing as the people of Lucern had yet to believe that the siege was finally over.

 It was Caesaris, who had saved her life, that Lady recognized first from the castle as she rode though the city gates. The older druid, weary from all the patients he had been tending, hardly paid her any mind as she came up, opting to tend to the rows upon rows of the injured to dying. In between all the bodies laid out were children helping Caesaris. Too young to fight, they could clean wounds, give water, fetch and carry items needed. Lady watched the children and saw that they, like her, had lost family and the desire to find her brother filled her heart. However, the rows of her people laid out called to her more, they deserved her attention as they had fought bravely for their homes and deserved her care more than finding her brother.

 Dismounting, Lady found a soldier who took her horse to have his armor removed so that he could be used for any labor that would be needed in the city. Kneeling down next to Caesaris she murmured.

 “How can I help?”

 He smiled softly at her and began explaining how she could help him set a fractured leg.

 It was almost dawn now and all of Lucern was still awake, people from all over the city were helping each other. Some putting out fires while others were burying their dead, many were treating the wounded while those were still capable began repairing the walls. The city was a full of the sounds of the living, everyone was needed and all able bodies were working. It was a sound of great relief to Lady as she stood in the balcony before moving back into the foyer where Sigurther and a few of her men waited. Exhaustion was slowly bearing down upon her and the armor she still wore grew increasingly heavy. However, she could not rest yet as none had been able to locate her brother.

 “Sit down Lady, there are many things we still need to discuss while we wait.” Offered one of the council members. “We were barley sieged for a day and the wall fell. We need to rethink our strategies and unless we enlist more men from other cities, we need your army here. We were crippled without the army.”

 Sigurther reached across the table and gently touched the council member’s arm, grabbing his attention and silently shook his head, indicating that this was not the time to barrage Lady for her mistakes.

 Lady heard his words and knew that they were true, but she could not address the council now, all she could do was watch the door and pray that it would be her brother that would be entering. Her heart racing and her body visibly tensing as footsteps were heard coming towards the door. All in the room became hushed as the door opened, revealing two guardsmen. One supporting the other as he had he limped in on a gimped leg.

 Lady’s violet eyes flicked from one soldier to the injured and let the silence fill the room as dread replaced her hope as both remained silent.

 “Where is the Duke?” It was Sigurther’s voice that had broken the silence, but his voice betrayed the trembling that had begun to settle in his bones as he too began to realize the unsaid answer.

 The soldier hesitated, knowing that what he would say now would be devastating to the young woman. “Wolf has been taken.”

 Lady froze, the life draining from her face. The words nearly failed to process in her head, hope flourished in the thought that he had not been slain but simultaneously crushed at what would become of him shortly. Words failed her as she struggled with images of what the enemy would do to him.

 “Tell us what happened.” It was Sigurther’s pained voice that rose again. Grief and guilt was wracking his body as it had been he that had suggested that Wolf lead his men.

 The soldier averted his eyes from Lady as he explained what had transpired. “He was with the first group to respond to the portal the enemy had opened within the city, but… well, no one could be prepared for what came out, and they were overwhelmed. I saw Wolf carried back into the portal. I’m afraid he’s been taken into the Nether.”

 Lady let out an anguished cry, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she sunk down into a chair. Being pulled into the Nether was worse than being carried off into the night as she had just imagined for those few moments. The world past the portal was filled with fire and death. Useless, she had been completely useless to him. Crippling Mardok’s army had not been worth the price of her brother.

 Covering her face with her hands, Lady doubled over in her seat as misery overwhelmed her. Tears wet her hands and she could barely hear the words of Sigurther attempting to console her as he moved to her side.

 “What of the Portal? Does it still stand?” Inquired one of the council members.

 “Yes.” Hesitated the injured soldier. “We weren’t sure what to do with it as the Duke had been pulled into it.”

 “Obviously it needs to be broken, otherwise-”

 “Everyone leave now.” Sigurther’s voice rang out. “We will discuss the matter with the portal later, the Duchess deserves time for her to grieve before she is required to continue this conversation.”

 There were murmurs of acceptance and brushing of feet as everyone left the chamber save for Sigurther who with tears in his eyes tried to apologize to Lady, but she could no longer hear his words.

 Lady’s mind was working quickly now. Wolf had been taken alive and he might remain that way if she acted swiftly.

 She needed to enter the portal… Swallowing roughly, she began devising a list of things she would needed to prepare. Determined, she knew she had to go alone, she would not drag anyone else further down this hole. She had no time to second guess herself, the longer she waited the harder it would be to track down her brother. She had to go now.

 She was aware of Sigurther removing his hand from her back as she stood from the chair. He watched her with pity in his eyes as she wiped at her own.

 “Thank you Sigurther.” Lady paused as she straightened, determination setting in. “I need to go find my cousin. Excuse me.”

 Sigurther watched as Lady’s demeanor of anguish settled into what looked to be grim resolve, and worried of what had transpired in Lady’s mind in those few devastating moments. He sent a short prayer for their safety.

 “I can’t keep by their side to protect them any longer,” he said to himself as Lady exited the chamber. “Someone, please watch over them.”

 Lady found her cousin, Blue the second, sitting in his chambers head in his hand, looking despondent as the news had been carried to him shortly after Lady.

 “I need a moment of your time your highness.” Lady announced as she entered and closed the door for discreetness.

 Blue glanced up and looked at her, offering her a half smile that looked despairingly sad for someone as young as himself. “Don’t call me that. Even when I take my father’s place, I don’t want such formality between us.”

 “Forgive me, but I needed to ask you a favor.”

 Blue sat up at his desk and wearily looked at her. “Well at least that explains the formalities. Proceed.”

 “I need someone to sit on the throne for me.” The quiet request hung in the air for a moment as Blue shook his head.

 “Get someone you trust.”

 “I can’t.” Lady started and drew in a breath before continuing. “Anyone chosen by me right now is going to be under suspicion with the counsel due to what-.” Lady paused as she struggled with her words, noticing Blue looking curiously at her before continuing. “They won’t trust my decisions right now. Lucern will be in turmoil even if I were to remain on the throne…unless the ruling family were to sit on the throne until things are settled.”

 “Lady, you know already how much I despise the fact that someday I will replace my father. Don’t make me take up that responsibility before my time.”

 “I need your help, Blue.”

 “Even if my father agrees to it, I simply can’t do what you ask. I’m already trying to get away from one throne, don’t try to put me on another.”

 “I have to get Wolf back home, Blue.” Lady’s voice trembled as she looked pleadingly at him. It was a selfish request, but she knew that she would never live with herself if she did not try.

 Blue closed his mouth, holding back his retort as he watched his older cousin struggle with the possibility of her brother’s death.

 “To either bring him back, or to at least return his body, so he can be buried beside our parents.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I cannot stay here. I need to do this, whether you help me or not.”

 He cursed under his breath. “Your dukedom will be in complete chaos if you disappear.”

 “Unless you help.”

 Blue pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he began preparing himself for what she had asked. “And If you die along the way? What then? How do you want me to proceed with inheritance?”

 Lady hesitated with the blunt question, which he had no doubt designed to make her reconsider her actions. She knew that Malice would not let her die yet, she had obligations to it. And if she did what it asked it would keep her alive just long enough to get what it wanted, Lady hoped she could get what she wanted first before she gave in to Malice. She glanced at Blue and knew she could not explain her thoughts to him.

 “Well?” Blue inquired, wondering if she had changed her mind.

 Lady’s mind raced as she thought of who she trusted. “In the event that I do not return and you are called back to the throne by your father, I want Sigurther to inherit the responsibility of the Dukedom.”

 The Master of Arms, he nodded in agreement. “Very well then.”

 Lady stood paralyzed before the whispering portal as fear gripped at her determination. She had timed her approach to coincide with the changing of the watch, and the new shift was presently too distracted in getting settled to their posts on the other side of the distant palisades to notice Lady. The rippling resonance was unnerving to hear aloud instead of her own mind. However, the violet swirling mist seemed indifferent to her presence, the shard remaining still in her chest. Lady watched as purple shimmering particles whisked about her like snow flurries, knowing that she was afraid.

 This was not the portal that would take her to Malice, her mind finally accepted. It was that thought which had prevented her from moving forward.

 And if it had, would you abandon your brother?

 The voice in her head was her own and not Malice, and still a shiver ran down her spine. The truth was she didn’t know, at this moment she wasn’t prepared to face Malice and the part of herself that was entwined with the indifferent entity. But she could face Mardok, that she knew. He was something tangible, someone who was slowly whittling down her family one by one and had taken the very last person she had in her life.

 “He could still be alive.” She whispered to herself as she pressed forward and stepped into the churning mist.

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