The Mighty Undead

My feet feel heavy, my sword is heavier, each step felt like I was a horse dragging a carriage behind me, my body just dead weight that I had to push. I was long past feeling pain, now I am just tired. The ashes of war surrounding and covering me in a veil of peeling embers. The sky's torn apart with the flaming rocks, each one colliding into the earth like an asteroid, the impact sent battalions flying in every direction, the ground rising and crashing in response to the colossal attack. The clouds parted by streaks of red, like the sun was setting on all of us. I wish it could have been the end, my bones aching and grounding in response to each desperate footstep.

My head hung low, the wispy grey strands of hair, soaked in sweat and blood, tumbled over my eyes clumsily. My hair tied in a tight bun behind me, which with the action of war had gradually loosened, unleashing the tangled and greasy strands to fall across my eyes. My heavily plated feet dragged themselves through the mud toiling with every step. I can hardly tell whether it's raining or if that is the blood of my comrades struck down by the man-made calamities soaring across the overcast sky. Everytime i muster the strength and will to raise my head I see the great distance in front of me, each time my hope shattered.

My hands were tingling through my gloves, they say in your final moments you relive your life, and all i can see is my wife, her glowing beauty accentuated in the humble summer's breeze. And my children, their energy filled bodies darting across the small plot of land we owned. I could only think of my son as I walked forward, would he have to endure the same hardships as me? Would the son of a knight be forced to walk this same trail, to push his legs through piles of mud dragging his sword behind him in the hopes that one day he might reach the castle over the hill.

I daren't look behind me, to see who is left following, I am not too proud to admit I'm scared, that when I reach the top I will look back at the vast emptiness I have left behind me. I do not know what scares me more, that I will never reach the top, or that I will do it alone. I will keep my head forward, my neck may be too tired to carry it, but it will stay forward, looking at the steps before me, pushing my legs to move, pushing my body to go further than should be possible so that soon i may once again be held by my love and hold my son, so that i may return and protect my family from the cruelties I have seen and the harshness of the world around me.

I readied my sword, the castle looming over me, finally I have made it, I could hear the panting of my men behind me. Finally I have reached the top, a wave of relief washed over me, the pain of endless unyielding steps. The crash of my weariness pressed against my limbs forcing me backwards, even the simple act of raising my arm was enough to wind me. AI pressed into the large wooden door, its huge frame gradually giving way. The wailing of the hinges pierced my ears, as soon as the archway was clear the men behind me rushed in, each of them equally tired, each of them being pushed by their will, their will to survive and to win.

The courtyard was filled with the clattering of steel on steel, sparks exploding from each weapon, the desperate grunts of each soldier powering past their foes pressing forward through the fortress. I feel it, the enemies were being pushed back, my comrades were cheering the immense sound taking over my head, purging any doubt, any fear. My weariness seemed to vanish in the final leg of the assault, my head filled with only my loved ones, the twinkling in my daughter's eyes replicated in the narrow hall as we sliced and cut down the enemy. I stared at the wall before me, the fortress conquered, piles of body behind me, the floor covered in blood and rusting metal. Placing my back to the wall, the plate armour scraping against the cold stone, I slid towards the ground. My body felt so heavy,

"What a shame, I'll never see your smile again," i pulled my glove away and stared at my hand, the skin and muscle was gone, only bones remained, the greyish decaying matter twitched in front of my eyes, as I removed more of the heavy armour from my body the rest of my skeleton was revealed, An undead knight, a hero brought back from death by a strong will to complete its mission. It felt like I would cry, but my bones were dry, I chuckled softly to myself, staring around the room at my comrades, each of us falling to the ground in exhaustion. One fell next to me, his body turning to ash leaving only a pile of armour and his sword thrust firmly into the ground.

"My dearest Elizabeth, forgive me, but may I rest now? I am ever so tired."

The room grew quiet,

the army followed not long after, storming the desolate castle throne room to find twelve sets of broken decaying armour, The leading knight was drawn to the set in the middle of the room, its helmet slumped against the wall, the dirty steel so different from his own, Placing the elegant piece of metal work that rested on his head besides the other he clasped his hands together a small prayer tumbling from his lips

As he gathered himself and readied to stand a small piece of paper caught his eye, unfolding the creased and bloodied parchment it read.

'Come home safe Father'