Chapter 43: Corpses

Corpses.

Several corpses spread around the forest- Cut in half, burnt to crisps, stabbed, bleeding from all orifices, there were even some pushed against tree branches till the branch itself tore through their bone and muscles, they were impaled by trees. Náttúrumaður couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach- So much death, so much blood, so much destruction on the edges of his forest and he did not feel a thing! There, tree children (only one was below the age of 18) cried upon their father's corpse that was mutilated beyond recognition, he had lost his eyes, his togue, and his jaw- And yet they recognized his corpse due to the clothes he was wearing and the sword that was sunk into their father's chest.

It was his own sword.

The lifeless corpse was a comlete horror to the sight, the children cried as they fell to the ground, this was the work of the enemy- A dragon. Mokzaxirrathan hugged Nátt, knowing that albeit Náttúrumaður could follow some of his self-imposed rules of Nature and life, he hasn't seen a slaughter yet, and Mokzaxirrathan sadly has seen many slaughters in his 60+ years of life. "WHY!?" Ajax shouted to the heavens, clenching her bow tightly as tears fell from her eyes like they were waterfalls- Jogîx was by far the worst one, he was holding his father's dagger, which was still on his dead father's hand and crying silently, staring at corpse.

Nôx, however, had his hand over his father's sword, no tears could be seen from his eyes, and yet- He looked the most devastated one of the siblings. Like he knew this would happen, and yet, he wasn't ready for it, he wasn't ready to have to step forward and avenge his father from his death- He now wanted to maul Tiamat, tore doen each of her head and offer it to the Matron of Ravens, The Weaver, to bring his father back.

"Come little children." Náttúrumaður kneeled into the grass floor, Nature sang for him as he rested his hands and carressed the ground, magic started to react to his presence as it flared up like a campfire- Explosion of energy bursted from around him in an aura that pushed ash from the ground, forming a small black cloud of soot and ash. "Let's play..." Calling out to Nature, his children, Náttúrumaður felt as the plants around him (that were still very much intact after severa lightning burning) sing to hin as he moved the energy from the ground to himself, a very common application of the [Channeling] ability.

Soon, from the corpses, spirits rose- Transparent and luminescent specters of light and shadow that disturbed the normal senses of the mortals that placed their sight upon them. Ghosts, to be more specific. "Dad...?" Náttúrumaður knew he couldn't bring them back, it would take more energy than he has, even if he uses that Minor Divinity of his, it wouldn't bring them ALL back- He sure had two of the potions that could bring someone back to life, but he shamefully had no desire to use on their dad. It's selfish to not use it, but it's also a selfish to ressurect him with the potion, because then he wouldn't have brought everyone back.

He is hypocritical, that's human, mortal nature.

The translucent father figure floated above his corpse, Náttúrumaður knew that everyone's siul here was unwilling to go, for their had yet to free mortalkind of it's oppressive and harmful dictatorship that has been placed by the Goddess and Queen of Chromatic Dragons Tiamat. "Ajax...?" The floating ghost of their father hovered a few feet from the ground, his spiritual form was almost invisible- in fact, almost everyone's spiritual form was weak, they had died a day or so ago, which if they haven't turned into Ghosts or any spiritual undead, they would've just been taken away to where the dead souls go to. "Dad!" Ajax, the beautiful young lady who had the bow in her back, middle sibling, and very devoted to the God of Nature Lisardggy. The moment she tried to reach out to her father, her wmhanf went through it, after all, he wasn't a Ghost- Just an illusionary illustration of their spiritual self.

"Dad..." Jogîx muttered, his eyes focusing on the floating soul of his father as Nôx turned to stare at him and his eyes were red- Not from holding back tears, but because Náttúrumaður was experiencing (seeing) the effects the Corruption has on people with weal minds and souls. "You died!" He was angry that his dad broke his (albeit childish) promise to never die in battle, the very first promise they've ever made! He remembers how his dad stroke his hair and chuckled, saying something among the lines of 'Of course i promise, son' or an exasperated 'yeah, i won't die... But I'll be in danger, constantly.' before he was then gone.

"Dad-" Nôx gulped down his words, he didnt know what to say to his father- Even if this one isn't his father, but something from his head. "I... Were you proud? Of me?" The ghost looked at his son and repeated the same phrase he always did whenever Nôx felt down, or insecure in his abilities: "Shine like the Nighg Sky, Fall like a Star, and be dark and mysterious as the darkness of the moon, my little Soldier." Nôx smiled at his beloved father, and his doubts slowly bled out of his heart as he repeated those words inside his mind- Then he grasped it, and pulled it free, the blade cane out of his father's chest in a very, very large sloppy manner- "Dad, who did this to you!?"

Náttúrumaður knew it was going to be difficult to the siblings, but time heals some wounds and makes others hurt less.

And some just rotten faster with time, making you lose your sanity slowly but surely.

-Author Note-

Damn, i am sleepy as fuck, but then again- If i try to go to sleel, i won't br able to because of insomnia. I cannot fucking sleep bitch!