Chapter 12 - Of the Grave

A thousand soft needles impale into my tissue from all around my being, like chains wrapped around my body, locking me in a warm tendering slumber. Till I feel a freezing fright lay hand on my shoulder, awakening me from my abyssal sleep. Letting my weary eyes peel open to see a dimmed blue arm reach into my belongings. The arm rumages on and on, till it pulls out a piece of paper and pen from my bag, and as quickly as I saw the thievery, the arm and person had left the tent. I lunge myself up from my sleeping bag, wondering what had just happened.I quickly take my unfolded and messy clothes on, which I usually wear under my armor set.

I slowly and with much carefulness, sneak my way out of the tent to follow the phantom ghost that had stolen from me. I slither across the wet and sloppy moss at my feet, hearing the crackling flames of a relit campfire away from the main site. I follow the sound of the smoldering flames, till I reach the warm hue casted upon the ground, in the dim light I see the figure again, his hair bound up in a tail with bangs across his face.

"Rito?" I whisper as the figure turns around with wide shocked eyes.

"Shit, shush the fuck up, don't make a noise." He grabs me by the neck and drags me to the ground with him, as finally I hear something else than the whistling flames. A faint muttering comes from the campfire.

"I know this isn't a mission of any great honor or pleasure, but it has to be done. Our orders are straight from the Castle Sanctuary, and most importantly from Luther." The commanding voice is clearly the harsh and bold tone of Ryude, as he stands with his own squadron. I look to Rito as he's incessantly scribbling notes on a snatched piece of paper from my bag.

"Our target mission is that of the hanging village here in the Sleeping Forest, a town named Witherweed. It's stated in the letter from Luther that and I quote. 'To push and scare the Dinakeri off their land, if intimidation doesn't work, require payment in form taxes, for illegally occupying Order territory." Ryude states to the crowd of his squadron.

"Yes, William?" Ryude eruptly says.

"Sir with all due respect, in what moral view can we see the Dinakeris as occupiers, they aren't even settled on any real landmass, but instead out in-between those tree shafts on bridges and platforms." 

"That isn't the point soldier, it's the fact they are here in the first place, and what good would their existence be if we couldn't profit from it in some way. Now shut your mouth before you get a stamp on your record." I quickly look at Rito, as he's noting down everything said by Ryude.

"So, could you please explain what you're doing?" I whisper.

"Something you don't need to be involved in, now go back to your tent and sleep." Rito's tone puts a damper on the mood, my veins feeling like they're about to burst. My body is simply too tired to deal with this tension caused by the situation at hand, so sneak my way back, with Rito quickly glancing at me moving across the wet moss, till he quickly snaps his head back to the meeting. 

I enter through the roughly woven tent door, slowly slithering across my unconscious squadron mates, my feet grazing their sleeping bodies nearly making me fall over, but finally I reach my end of the tent and lay myself in the warmly comfortable yet unbearably unfitting sleeping bag, somehow only warming parts of me while I freeze in others. To combat against the cold I equipped myself in most of my armor, and finally as my body and soul gave in to the night, I let myself rest. 

My eyes slowly gliding down my irises, till the world turns black.

Smoke… I can smell it, it's not a pleasant smoke, but a nasty smoke. I feel it tainting my nose and all the way down my lungs. Ravenous vile sounds of sloppery chewing, I could just take the tonal hint of the teeth chewing being partially rotted, and sliding across whatever substance it's ripping apart. My body and eyes are awake but I am not, and the growling continues. My eyes feel the rot and blood coming from beyond my own. Though my will shines through and I just barely force open the steel doors, letting me to witness the rot upfront. 

 A dried lanky colorly muted being stands bowed down on top of a torn sleeping bag close to me, I can barely raise myself, both my tiredness and cowardice keeps me locked in a position of surrender to the being at my left side. 

I reach my ironclad arm outside my sleeping confines, extending towards my worn sword laying at my side. I grip tight around the hilt, and spring out of my bag, in a large spring hurtling towards the creature chowing down at the front of me. With one clean cleave, I chop its head off. It hits the floor with a thud, and rolls around, its tongue sticking out and drooling rotten blood. I look at what it had been chewing on.

"Oh gods…" The shredded and torn face of one of my squadron mates lies still in their sleeping bag, the deep dark cleaves carved into the flesh making me sick to my already empty stomach.

I finally awake my ears to the full disarray going on, my heart letting out pumps at a quicker pace than ever. I listen to the complete chaos unfolding just outside the cloth. I burst through the tarp, to come face to face with a sea of fire spread out across the camp. Flocks of gray-skinned stitch littered beings ravage across the camp, tearing whatever they see to unrecognizable shreds. I look up upon the hill where a dark-cloaked individual stands chanting, with a rustic black tome in hand. 

Long nearly invisible tendrils connect to the figure's fingertips, to the beasts ravaging the camp. They move around erratically and suddenly, like puppets on strings. I grab hold of my sword and charge towards the upcline leading to the mage's position. I battle against the crumbling dirt beneath me, till finally I reach the peak. The mage at my front had already noticed me, and swiftly took off.

"CHASE THAT ARDOR-STRUCKEN NECROMANCER!" I hear bellowed out from below, Ryude seems to be battling a horde of the creatures, protecting some of my still remaining squadron mates with his ablazed sword. With no time for communication I set off on the chase. Though on my tail I feel someone. 

"No way you're going off alone without a little help." I hear from my side, his blue skin immediately reminding me of safety.

"Glad to have your help Rito, what would I do without it." I say with a smirk, as we run after the cowardice mancer, in our sets of metal plating.

The dense grass and unkept terrain slow us down immensely, as we try to keep up with the escaping mage. I reach behind myself and grab my silvered sword. Using it to cut down a path for me and Rito, though he quickly diverges slightly beside me.

"Can't you set your blade ablaze? Would make cutting through this jungle of grass much easier!" I exhaustedly yell to Rito.

"You think starting an uncontrollable fire in a forest is a good idea, why exactly? And why can't you do it yourself if you really wanted to enact such a foolish idea!" Rito yells back.

"Nevermind." I say, not even wanting to entertain the idea of me trying to use an element charge, now that I think back on the year, I haven't even learned how to use the main tool of the Sigil Knights. How am I ever to come further from this point. Am I even a proper Knight… My own incompetence has made me cast aside what would have been my most valuable source of power. No more, after this mission I'll lay aside my own needs, to study upon the tools at my hand. Though of course, I'll seek my new ambition after I've visited my father.

"Up ahead Judari! Get your own mind out of your ass and pay attention!" I hear Rito yell as we begin upscaling a slippery wet ebony hill, with only hints of grass blades showing through the dark mud.

"We have to catch up to him in time before he does more damage." Rito says with no condemnation, as we reach the horizon of the hill, leading onto a plateau spanning across my vision, only thing attempting to obscure my eyes being the high-grass and brushels tickling my legs. Though deep in the middle of the plateau, a clear-cut dark pitfall is visible. Below I feel the acclimation of the unwilling dead, being held by a singular strong tethering to a life they wish to pass on. Across the hole a rickety bridge was placed, connecting us to the other side of the plateau. The mage already being across the bridge I try to come to quick solutions.

"Rito quick, use an ice charge!" I yell as he looks at me with a puzzled look, despite his confusion at my request, I see his blade's sigils glow slightly, as if tiny portals opened upon the carving rims. Slowly the sword gets covered in layers of frost, each layer spreading across the next till his steel resembles that of a brutal club.

"Cast the ice across the grass!" I yell as we run across the marshy ground, Rito clearly hesitates not knowing if he can do it.

"Imagine you're out at sea on a platform of ice, sliding across it, get it imprinted deep in your head!" I yell once more, as Rito unleashes his sword upon the ground, as the sounds of a roaring tundra screech from his blade, he frosts the grounds at our feet. The gilded frost dimly lights a clear path ahead as Rito holds on with his wavering arm. Finally the path of ice ceases near the bridge's beginning.

We quickly rush across the smooth freshly cast ice, our armored boots scraping across the glass. Within seconds we land at the start of the weathered bridge, and finally my eyes are allowed to look below. Large bulbous creatures of rotten fungi, drag across the wet grass, their bodies deformed and slowly falling apart as they slather their carcass along the floor of the hole. A small piece of yellow paper hung from what seemed to be the creatures from, with red inked scripture written on it.

"Poor things." I say letting my tempo down.

"Judari quit daddling, we don't have time for sympathy." Rito says coldly, sprinting across the creaky bride, several planks sounding near full witherment. I let out no response and continue forwards, though still keeping my eyes upon the sorrowful scrooms below. 

We come upon the last bit of the bridge, our feet finally met with unwavering ground. The plateau continues ahead till a dip in the eye reaching terrain, though my comprehension of the area is fogged by the green thick mist laid out across the forest.

"Come on Judari, if he gets too far in the shrubs he'll be gone completely!" Rito ye, quickly sprinting across meters of distance, leaping off the side in a slide down the mount of hill. My brain quickly reacts, and I follow suit, making my way down in similar style.

"Ambulvaas!" Rito yells at the fleeing necromancer as we finally come to a corner, the mage not having an immediate exit. Both Rito and I approach him, with me drawing my sword.

"Just wait a second- '' Before Rito could finish his words, the mage reaches inside his robes, pulling out two pieces of light brown paper with red scripture across it. He with a single toss throws them hurdling at us, in the air, they slowly flimmer down to the grass. In response the mage tugs onto the side of the surrounding dirt wall and starts a climb.

"Where do you think you're going scum!" I let out my words in a roar, as I start to trial after the mage.

"Wait, don't!" Rito yells from behind me, as I leap above the thrown paper, why is it moving…

For just my second in the air, I bear witness to the paper coming to life, the light-brown pieces moving along erratically, morphing and moving to a dark sickly gray color. The first I see is the black lightless eyes protruding inwards to the creature's skull, its skin seeming more like a disguise for a reanimated skeleton. Like a spring, the creatures gain motion in their unraveling from a piece of paper to a fully standing monster.

I finally land upon the grass, sliding slightly back as the stitched creatures fully contort into a kindred-like shape. Their mouths and limbs stitched together by clear amateur hands. The mage above me finally reaches the peak of the elevated dirt wall, and flees yet again. I take my sword fully out of its holder on my back, and I ready myself. Rito even stances up, seeming to ready a flame charge upon his sword.

Even though my experience with the elements isn't quite as extensive as I would like. My expertise in the art of swords has expanded tenfold. It's the one true thing I learned to master in some regard. It's my only tool available.

I quickly charge forward against the newly birthed creature, my sword at my shoulder. Though as quick as I had advanced, it had already begun its own movement, swinging its rotten stickly arm towards me. I let myself spin in a twist around to maneuver the attack, immediately I am sat in a position close to the monsters, though with my body and head turned around I have to act fast before I get my brain torn out. 

I ready my sword, and I let it slide through the space between my arm and torso. The sound of a gutural shriek echoes out as I let my blade pierce the body of the gray figure. 

Quickly I fling myself away with a rough roll onto the wet grass, my armor stained and smeared by the green moss. I look to Rito dealing with the beast at his step. And though not long had passed, his sword was already ablaze. The monster seems scared, frightened by the pyre at hand. I turn my attention back on my own battle, as the creature has already regained its erratic composure. In the blink of an eye, it had already lunged forward at me. In a swift motion of my legs, I swerve to my right, with my sword's tip still laid upon the moss.

 I let the beast charge forward without a target in sight, and just as its forwarded arms become above my steel, I cleave upwards in an absolute cut. The freak's arms fall to the ground, as it is in a continuous mindless state, and begins a tumble down. I let my blade flow above the head of the creature, bringing it back to myself as I let it fall in between the both of my hands. 

Its gray neck in sight, I step forward, my blade in a smooth motion. I feel the spine as it rips apart. Every nerve and blood vessel of what used to be a fellow kindred snapped in half by me. It's mercy.

The body of the rotten falls through with a splash, like someone being dropped into a puddle, short and not a pleasant view. Though from the droplet sounds coming to an end, I hear the burning kindle of a fire.

We did good. But we don't have time to rest right now." Rito says, his face and cyan eyes lit up by the embling corpse at his foot.

"I made sure it won't be getting up again, sadly that means setting it on fire." Rito moves away from the slain and torn bodies.

"Come on, we most likely don't have long before Ambulvaas is gone." He grazes my shoulder, signaling me to move along with him. 

"Well he went up, so shouldn't we do that too?" I say.

"Good idea, give me a shoe up and I'll lift you from above." I nod to Rito's request, and quickly set myself close to the dirt wall, one knee on the grass. I extend my hands out and let Rito place his foot inside. In a swift motion I launch him up, with all my strength, allowing him to reach the top. He crawls around and reaches his arm down to me. I grab Rito back by the wrist, as he tugs me up in a swift motion.

"You think he could've gotten far?" I say to Rito, as he observes, at least as much as he is allowed by our subpar position.

"No, he may be quick but he doesn't have a lot of stamina." Rito says jumping down to where the mage would have most likely gone. Though my curiosity peaks and I look back to the corpses… And they're gone, completely. 

I turn my back to the disappearance, rejecting my gut of investigation, and follow Rito down below to the jungle. Rito at the front, I stand at the back, ready for anything. As he leads, with the role of scout.

"Do you think the other Sigils are… y'know good?" I say as we traverse the dense forest ground.

"Probably not." Rito says coldly.

 "You don't think any of them survived?" My thoughts become erratic as I picture our whole squadron eaten up and laid in piles of flesh.

"Oh like that, well to be honest, I didn't see much. I wasn't sleeping in my tent anyway, I only woke up because I heard the commotion." Rito says, cutting down bent vines that had floated in front of the path ahead.

"I know one of them didn't make it, those disgusting gnawing sounds are what woke me up. It wasn't a pretty sight." I say, now realizing how easily that could have been me, just a coincidence away from meeting my end.

 "Let's hope we won't see more blood spill today, well hopefully ever." Rito says, looking back at me with a warm smile.

CRACK

A bone-crack like snap echoes out from the forest.

"This way!" Rito yells, already on the trial of the sound.

"It has to be Ambulvaas!" We skip across the terrain like small children on a rainy day, though our minds are not on the potential coziness of home, instead our minds are set on one singular goal. Rito leads us across the terrain, nearly falling over the hundreds of branches and large boulders placed along the ground. Finally we come to the area where the sound most likely originated from. An overgrown cave, covered in long unkept vines and wild flowers.

 "I think it came from here." Rito says, pushing aside the vines, allowing us access into the dark and wet underpass. We let the outside world disappear as we ourselves sink into the shadows. 

"He doesn't have anywhere to run from here, we're pretty close to the edge of the forest anyway." Rito says, pulling out all the leaves in his hair. Finally a shed of light shines through the slight cracks of the vines. Though as Rito finally comes on the other side of the vines, he stops dead in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" I peer my head closer to Rito's. His eyes are shaking, his face contorts from apathy to pure horror. I feel it again, that dark energy that I know in my bones, the one my father emanated for so many years.

With my curiosity quenching for relief, I plunge my head through the thick vines.

A corpse lays on the ground, charred and burned to the bones with only ash and dust spread around it.

Above the bones I see my nightmare stand bare. That monstrous helmet with a gaping jaw, and four bent metallic fangs shoved into the top and bottom of its pseudo mouth. Its head twists around like a puppets would, and locks onto us. Its pinpoint eyes marks us, as I feel its stare see directly into my soul, warping it around till I could feel my heart in my throat. 

The black knight holding the arm of the deceased Ambulvaas chuckles, ripping off the charred bone with yet another loud echoing crack. The Wraith takes a step forward, imprinting onto me and rito, the very impression of death.