3 Night Three

I awoke to the faint sound of bells, and the echoing roar of chanting. Me and the other legionaries jumped to our feet, drawing our blades and preparing to fight the barbarian hordes once more.

But, once we had completely thrown off the last of nocturne's grip, we realized something horrifying. The chanting was completely surrounding us, and it wasn't in the language of the barbarian hordes...

The praetor was calmly swaying back and forth with closed eyes, a faint smile on his face, as the men automatically fell into a defensive circle.

I shook him, trying to loosen the chant's hold on him. His eyes snapped open, and his eyes fell upon me. They glowed purple, completely dissimilar to the previous sky blue of his eyes.

I staggered back, watching as his smile grew. "What have they done to you?" I shouted, rage growing at the audacity of these chanters.

"Calm, Legatus Legionis Remus. I remain in control of my mental facilities." He replies, his voice deeper and filled with an intangible quality it had previously lacked.

"Then... what is happening, praetor?" I asked, my hand still following to my sword hilt wearily.

"We are surrounded by a spriggan cult. I caught them in the early morning communing with the earth, and decided to hail them in elder futhark. Currently, we are having a karaoke competition, using music once forgotten and now remembered. They were thoroughly impressed by my repertoire of music unheard of in this plane of existence; so they decided to gift me with spriggan sight." Praetor Axavia said, once more acting as though it was no big deal.

"And... what does this spriggan sight grant you?" I asked, curious.

"It lets me see the bounty of nature's harvest. In simpler terms, it's a visual overlay that lets me search for things I desire and might have previously missed. It will be quite useful in the future, when we need to find helium. Until then... I can use it to find water I suppose." He said, shrugging and turning back towards the woods.

The men, hearing the words of our praetor, relaxed slightly. While we are certainly still in danger, very few monsters would be stupid enough to mess with an entire spriggan cult.

I left Axavia swaying along with the song, a thunderous and compelling one about the rising of a great evil in response to a horrible shame; and moved to talk with Tribunus Laticlavius Eli, my second in command.

"Tribunus Laticlavius Eli, how much longer do you think we'll be stuck in these accursed woods?" I asked as I approached.

Eli seemed enthralled by the actions of our praetor, but snapped out of it and turned to face me.

"Legionis Legatus Remus, it should only be two more days, assuming nothing goes wrong. However, based on the fact that our Praetor is currently in a singing competition with a cult of spriggans... it could be a while yet." She responded, amused at the actions of our Praetor.

I chuckled weakly before responding. "Most likely, Eli. Tell me, how do the men fare?"

"All things considered... they're doing pretty well. I mean, losing over ninety nine percent of our fighting force on our march in here really demonstrated just how bad a situation can get; so their morale has been relatively high compared to then!" She responded, with false joviality.

"Tell it to me straight, Eli. We've fought together for years now, so don't middle words with me." I said, narrowing my eyes at her apparent joviality.

"Well sir... it's the Praetor. The legionaries respect his power and knowledge, but they don't think he's taking this situation seriously enough. He let that illusionary fox spirit get away instead of killing it, and now he's singing with spriggan!" She cried, exasperated. As she did so, I could've sworn I heard the faint ringing of golden bells.

"The men have promised me that they'll obey his commands until we can submit ourselves to a larger military organization, but I don't know how long that will be. And unless he can prove himself in that time, he might lose control of this legion at the first sight of fellow Zerisians." She said quietly.

"I'm more so afraid of the other possibility." I said, after some time had passed. "I'm afraid that we'll encounter a larger group of people, and they'll lure him away from us. We weren't the only ones who knew of the prophecy, Eli. And with the knowledge he contains... everyone and their grandmother will want to have him on their side. It's why I've been trying to bring his attention to Allia. I'm hoping that if he gets attached to her, he'll be far less likely to leave us." I said, trailing off as I noticed Allia was within hearing distance.

We both looked at her as guilty children would when caught doing something bad. She hesitantly approached us, and spoke her part. "I understand, uncle. For the good of the legion, and the good of Zerisia, I will do my part too. But there's only so much I can do without stripping nude and sneaking into his bedroll at night. You two will both need to play your parts, so we can keep both him and the legion. One would be rather ineffective without the other." She said, smiling weakly at the last part.

We agreed, making a pact to ensure the best outcome for Zerisia, and went back to our previous tasks. Once the legion was prepared to march once more, I approached Axavia.

"Ave, Praetor! The legion is ready to march at your command!" I said, drawing myself to my full height of 5'8.

"Good. The spriggans make for great singing partners, due to how well they listen. It really makes teaching them new songs into an easy affair." He said, looking off into the distance. Cold sweat ran down my back as I struggled to keep my previous smile in place. I could feel the tension of Allia besides me in response to his words.

"Come, let us away. If we march hard today, we may be out of these misty woods within two days time!" He said jovially, and began hiking eastwards once more.

Allia and I slumped slightly, thankful that he hadn't been paying attention to what we were saying previously. We stuck close to him, afraid to lose him in the deepening mist. Suddenly, he halted.

"MEN, GROUP UP! RALLY TO THE BANNER!" He roared, and the banner illuminated the area like a brilliant flare.

The mist muffled his words, and all we could hear in response was deafening silence. It seemed as though only us six remained.

Then, out of the mist, a single figure stumbled. They walked as though a man mauled, but I recognized who it was. Centurion Zuro of the fourth centuria. He staggered forwards, pressing his hand against his stomach in an attempt to keep his guts inside him. He looked up at us with pleading, pitiful eyes.

Then, from the mist, a limb emerged. It was comprised of bone, covered in moss and rotten fur, and ended in a skeletal claw. It reached over the shoulder of Zuro, grabbing him by the throat. He had enough time to whimper "help me," before he was hauled back into the mist.

There was a spray of blood darkening the mist, and silence once more. It had happened so quickly that I'd have missed it if I had blinked.

In response to this, Praetor Axavia roared with rage. And in concert with his roar, the glowing eagle of the banner shone, sending out piercing rays of sunlight into the mist around. Where it pierced, the mist was cleared; but everywhere else was glared up, turning the dense mist a blinding white.

Through the gaps in the mist, we could hear more screams.

We rushed towards them, the mist parting before the banner. But with each step, we found it harder to move. The blood of our comrades had turned the ground to mud.

Then, emerging from the mist before us, we finally saw the beasts we faced. They were skeletal monstrosities, with barrel like torsos, and spindly limbs of bone and moss. They wore rotting fur as though it was their skin, and their claws dripped with blood and shredded flesh. They stood over 14 feet high, and had glowing eyes. But, most horrifying of all were their faces. They were hollow skulls, with a long bloodied tongues and razor sharp teeth. They had antlers raising from their heads, and mange covered ears.

As soon as we saw it, Praetor Axavia said one word. "Wendigos."

The... Wendigo, as he called it, seemed to smile slightly at the name. Then, it pounced.

It was as quick as a snake strike, yet still Axavia was able to block it. He bashed the claw away with the eagle, and sliced at the halted limb with his drawn gladius.

It was now clear why he had asked for a longer blade.

Allia and I stood stupefied for a moment, before jumping into combat alongside the scouts. It was an extraordinarily tough fight, as we lacked the benefits a shield wall provided. But, considering the ungodly height of the creature, it wouldn't have mattered much.

We were like toddlers with knives. The only one who seemed to really injure it was our Praetor; effortlessly wielding his banner and gladius as though he had trained with them his whole life. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually the beast was felled. Axavia snared It's jaw with the eagle, dragged it down, and sliced it's head from it's neck in one clean slash.

We all panted, thankful that it was over. Then, I glanced up at Axavia. "What are you all waiting for? Wendigos hunt in packs of five or more. The longer we wait, the more of our men shall die." He said, glaring at us.

My breath caught in my throat, and I straightened my back. My men needed me, and here I was panting like a beaten dog! Axavia turned around, and we raced after the banner.

Continuously, we cried into the mist. "Rally to the banner! For the legion!" Slowly, in ones and twos, the other legionaries gathered. Most were confused, having wandered away from their Centuria and gotten lost in the mist. Some were wounded, having fought alongside their comrades against Wendigo.

We continued racing towards the sounds of combat, and encountered Aria and the remnants from Second Centuria battling a Wendigo. It was unlike the first one Wendigo.

This one as far more humanoid, with distinct facial features and obvious musculature. It had two racks of antlers, and seemed more similar to a fur covered giant than the bestial form we had fought earlier. And that made it all the more dangerous.

Only two people remained from second Centuria. Aria, and one of her legionaries. And as we approached, her legionary was picked up and thrown against a tree.

He was flattened like a pancake, the sound of his spine shattering echoing against the blanketing mist. His corpse flopped the ground, deformed and lifeless. And now, centurion Aria fought against the Wendigo alone.

Then, like a descending demigod, Axavia appeared. With the gemina legion standard in one hand, and a bloodied gladius in the other, he pounced on the Wendigo. It swiped at him, clipping him and sending him flying off into the tree canopy.

I heard a thump, and thought all was lost. Then, a spear tip blossomed from the throat of the Wendigo. Our praetor has survived, and jumped down, throwing his weight upon the standard. The spear point on the bottom had impaled the Wendigo through It's skull, and exited through it's throat.

It slumped to It's knees, before slowly toppling over. Our praetor limped off, blood dripping from his leg, where he had slashed himself on the Wendigo's antlers.

"Two... down..." he panted, exhausted from the combat.

"Three... more... to... go..." he said, forcing himself to stand tall.

He braced himself on the banner, planting his feet on the head of the fallen Wendigo, and ripped the standard from it's skull.

Black, viscous blood squirted from the hole, soaking the banner containing the gemina sigil of the fifty second legion.

Axavia raised the blackened banner high, gathered his breath, and roared his fury for the world to hear. "So long as this standard remains aloft, the legion will never die! Let all who face it in battle fall before our might! For the golden age of Zerisia, for the divine will it, and we are worthy!"

"Ave, Praetor!" The assembled fourty three legionaries roared in response, and their will was funneled by the legion standard. The mist around us dispersed, and we could see the remaining wendigos.

Nearly half our legion lay dead on the ground; yet still, three wendigos stood facing us. I do not like those odds.

The surviving legionaries that were scattered before by the mist hurriedly ran over to us; while the three Wendigo spread out, encircling us, like wolves hunting a lone fawn. I could feel the end drawing near.

My legionaries, however, felt differently. They knew with absolute certainty, that so long as the legion banner stood, the legion would never fall. They believed it with all their heart, as the hundreds of thousands before them had also believed. How could three simple Wendigo compare to the will of hundreds of thousands?

Apparently, pretty damn well; because they immediately threw off the mental suggestion Axavia had thrown at them. Seeing this, our praetor stepped forwards alone.

It was more of a shuffle really, he was definitely trying to downplay how bad the cut on his leg truly was. As he shuffled forwards, Tribunus Laticlavius Eli sidled up besides me.

"If he fights in that condition, he's going to die." She whispered, keeping her eyes on the circling Wendigo.

"Agreed. But he he doesn't, we all will." I whispered back, tightening my grip on my gladius and faking a lunge towards a nearby wendigo.

It disregarded my action, and continued circling us like it would a cornered hedgehog.

It seemed we were doomed, then Axavia started singing. It was at that point that I knew we were doomed. He wasn't even trying to fight them. He was just standing there, swaying back and forth, singing by himself with... glowing purple eyes.

And there, in the mist, I saw them. Another set of glowing, purple eyes. They were narrow, and slanted.

The song developed into a deep, ethereal chanting; and the longer it went on, the more eyes appeared. The wendigo became increasingly agitated by the song, and all of them started sprinting towards Axavia. Then, as his section of the song trailed off, the spriggan cult surrounding us picked it up.

I could only make out one word from the song clearly, but it really summarized what the wendigos should do if they wished to survive. "Rún."

The chanting, growling spriggan cult sprinted forwards from the mist, pouncing upon the three remaining wendigo.

They may have been dwarfed by the wendigo, but they were no less vicious. Their skin was composed of hardened bark, polished to gleam in the eternal moonlight. Their eyes sockets were hollow, illuminated from within by the purple light. Their frames were lithe and wiry, and they covered a distance of over three hundred feet in a single blink.

Their hands ended in razor sharp fingers, which they impaled the wendigo upon. They swarmed the wendigo like a plague of locusts, and the horrifying beasts were brought low beneath their combined might.

As the last wendigo fell, still as eerily silent as it's brethren, they turned as one towards us. As they did, Praetor Axavia sank to his knees and bowed towards them.

The surviving legionaries weren't stupid, they followed suit immediately. We pressed our heads against the ground, and heard a single sentence from the spriggan cultists. It was spoken in elder futhark, so I couldn't understand a word of it, but the voice itself sounded like the rustling of leaves through a dead forest.

By the time I looked up, the entire cult was gone. I hadn't even heard them leave.

I turned towards Axavia, and asked one simple question. "What the fuck was that?"

He laughed once, a dead and hollow laugh devoid of any joviality or humor. "That, Remus, is why you shouldn't hesitate to have singalongs with friendly forest spirits. Never turn down a potential ally simply because it might appear demeaning to outsiders." He panted, tilting his head back and trying to dispel the buildup adrenaline from the extended fighting.

After an extended time of self reflection had occurred, the faint ringing of bells drew the attention of the legion back to reality.

"Take stock of who fell, tend to the wounded, police any valuable gear, and butcher the damned wendigo corpses. I refuse to have lost half our remaining legion without anything to gain from it." Praetor Axavia said, propping himself up on the legion standard.

Centurion Allia was tending to his wounds, using more previously unaccounted for linens to do so. I just hope she won't regret her choices due to later chafing.

In the harsh rays of moonlight, we could fully see the gruesome work of the wendigo. Second, fourth, fifth, seventh, and eighth Centuria had been eliminated. Centurion Aria was the sole survivor from those four Centuria. Sixth and Third Centuria had been halved, and their commanding centurions slain. First, ninth and tenth Centuria remained intact, and had managed to protect our engineers. There were only seven commanding officers left, with only fifty eight legionaries left alive in total; from a gemina legion that had started with over ten thousand legionaries.

When Praetor Axavia heard this number, he simply sighed. "Well, now is as good a time as any to reform our legion." He said, hauling himself up from his seated position using the standard.

"All Centuria are being renamed to Cohorts. Sixth and third cohorts are being merged and rebranded second cohort. They shall be led by Centurion Aria. Ninth and tenth are being rebranded third and fourth cohort; and will be led by centurions Helius and Leri. First cohort will remain under control of Centurion Allia. The seven engineers and three scouts will be regrouped and rebranded fifth cohort, led by Praefectus Castrorum Vultes. We shall remain a legion, but we will recognize that we have barely enough legionaries to be called a Centuria." Praetor Axavia explained to the gathered fifty eight legionaries.

"The four combat cohorts will answer to Tribunus Laticlavius Eli, while she in turn will answer to Legatus Legionis Remus. The fifth cohort, led by Praefectus Castrorum Vultes, will answer directly to Remus. Is that understood?" He asked, and we responded immediately.

"Ave, Praetor!"

"Good." He nodded, and slumped once more. "Fulfill the tasks I have commanded. Allia, remain by my side. I may require further assistance." Axavia said, growing increasingly weary with every word. The blood loss had really fucked him up.

We reorganized, and obeyed our praetor's commands. I took great pleasure in personally skinning a wendigo, while the three other scouts worked together to skin and flay the rest. When we were done, we took the finest leather, and left the rotting meat where it lay.

We did, however, take the best skull we could find. Their bones were extremely dense, so our engineers started fashioning makeshift armor from it. Our swords were completely unable to pierce it, so it would surely assist us in some meaningful manner.

By the time we were done, our three scouts were clad in wendigo exoskeletons, with as much valuable gear as we could manage strapped to the outside. They were glorified packmules, but the engineers had used the ligaments like springs with the assistance of Axavia; so they could move unhindered.

The skull we had selected earlier was mounted upon the standard just below the eagle, ensuring all who viewed it would know that the eagle had slain the wendigo.

The gear representing our gemina legion was stained black from wendigo blood, yet we were able to wash it from the red of the banner. It created a very imposing sight, a golden 52 surrounded by the pitch black gear, on a bloody red background.

Axavia stood at our front, hunched over slightly, and requiring allia's assistance to walk properly. The fifty six remaining legionaries formed up behind them, and I stood at their side. As we were about to embark once more on our journey for the edge of the twilight forest, Praetor Axavia spoke up.

"I do not have another trick like that up my sleeves, let me make that clear. The only trick I have left involves the infinite toilet paper, and using that will kill anyone within three hundred feet. So... ehh, I'm not stupid to say anything more and jinx it." He muttered that last part to himself, but I still heard it.

We set off once more into the endless mists, leaving behind the dead corpses of our comrades, and the faint ringing of bells...