Miriam
Chapter 15: The Fateful Spirit-Walker, the Misplaced Princess and Miriam

"Tap." Miriam said, as she tapped Ellie on the forehead. The girl opened her eyes hazily but stared beyond Miriam's face into the gray sky above. Miriam struck a concerned expression and let Ellie slump back down to sit. She looked back to Freda who stood a few feet away, arms folded and expression stubbornly rigid. "I don't think we're getting much farther." Miriam said. Standing back up with only a light grunt. She shook her head firmly in an attempt to brush off the dozy feeling, it helped but only minorly.
"We are not stopping now." Freda replied, her hand absent-minded waving Leia away. The dog had taken a strong liking to the knight as of the latest hour. Miriam rose a brow of question.
"She can't really walk..." She said, implying rest. Not speaking of her own weary head but rather just gesturing down to Eliana.
"Then I shall carry her." Freda argued. "We're not stopping out here. The battle is still too close." Miriam scoffed in response to that.
"We're miles off by now. Why would they come this way?" She looked toward the shadowy outline that was Lowburg.
"We must reach my encampment soon. And, those murderers might still be abound."
"Which murderers?" Miriam asked no one in particular in a sarcastic scoff, imagining all sides to be equally guilty in this affair. Freda struck a harsh face, perhaps taking personal blame in the comment. Miriam didn't imagine Freda liked her, but she did seem intent on helping Eliana. Besides, the knight could probably slice her down in a matter of seconds if she wanted to and Miriam had tempted death too much these last couple of days to try her luck against this armoured giant of a woman.
"We shan't stop now." Freda said. "Do you wish to suffer death from the Shadow, hm?" The knight queried, Miriam was getting quite fed up with this mysticism but she had to agree, she didn't have a better plan. She groaned and rolled her eyes but finally admitted defeat.
"Fine."

Freda scooped up Eliana, who seemed to drift closer to waking every minute. Her eyes had been open for a while now but she still seemed... off. She hadn't spoken and simply hung on Freda's supporting arm, her feet moving by themselves as if she was sleep walking. Miriam walked on the other side of the Walker, feeling quite responsible for her at this point. She noticed they had changed direction and were approaching the forest again from the north side.
"Eh... Why are we going here?" She asked.
"I need to fetch someone. It's not far." Freda grumbled impatiently.
"Are you saying we've circled half the forest just to walk into it now?" Miriam queried, curious as to the poor decision making.
"I did not choose the direction. The Raylians did." Freda responded snappily. Miriam smartly did not push the subject further as to avoid getting punched. She looked down to Leia at her side and lent her a meaningful look. The dog barked happily.

There was a silence befitting the name of the woods as they walked into it. Eliana moreso stumbled into it in a state of blind swaying. Miriam broke it.
"This place is haunted, you know." Leia snapped her ears alert and looked around as if to push the point further. Freda grunted and shook her head some. But she did grasp the hilt of her sword tighter.
"I am not worried of such paltry rumors - No fiend could withstand the Light." The knight's gaze was locked ahead and she walked with determination only a fanatical madwoman could possess. Miriam shrugged and elected to keep an eye out for goblins or other fairy-folk just in case they proved to be real.
"If you sayeth so." Miriam said, snickering for herself. She could have sworn Ellie smiled as well but that might have just been her imagination. Another silence fell over the party as they trudged through the woods. It was gloomy and pressured. Miriam was certain Freda was getting lost and she was about to say something as Eliana suddenly and surprisingly broke the silence.
"Jack...?" She mumbled. Freda, Miriam and Leia all stopped to look at the Spirit-Walker. Waiting. The girl sighed sadly and wavered on the spot. "I'm sorry Master." Miriam looked to Freda who was the first to act, she seemed more decisive and knowledgeable on these things.
"Walker?" She queried. "Are you roused? I require your assistance." She had taken Ellie by the arm to gently shake her. "Are you awake?" Miriam pocketed her hands and yawned. Not attempting to grasp the inner functions of magic, or the even more so confusing topic; Eliana. The blonde mage narrowed her eyes upon Freda and seemed confused.
"Uh... Wh-what?" She fluttered her eyes uncertainly until her gaze shot up, Leia had acted second and pranced up to Ellie to press her paws against the girl's ruined skirt. Panting happy breaths in a bid for attention. The sight seemed to calm Eliana who grew more focused as time passed. She looked around some more and spotted Miriam. "Miriam?" She said, there seemed to be something on her mind.
"Ellie." Said Miriam and offered a quick quirk of a smile. "How are we feeling?"
"I..." The walker started, but she stopped whatever she was about to say, growing dour and silent. She looked down at the ground, or actually, she looked down at Leia.
"Miss. I am Freda. We are bringing you to our healers to halt what has infested you. This I've sworn." Freda was quick to say, ever thinking about the duty ahead. "Are you alright?" Eliana sighed and held her response inside. Miriam watched her suspiciously. She then took a breath and turned on the spot. It was about time to go the correct way again.
"This way." She said and stepped through some bushes. Leia pranced after her with a happy bark. Freda followed quickly and rose her voice in protest. Eliana waddled slowly after them both, thoughts trapped on sights the others could not comprehend, implications that spelled the doom of them all, and perhaps the whole realm.
"Duty..." The Walker said to herself and gave herself a light slap. "Save us all..."

The damnable weather had grown unbearable. The creaking of the wood in the wind was driving Freda up the trees, not to mention having to carry these two everywhere - why was duty so harsh on her? She questioned all of these with water clinging to her clothing and beneath it, with a downpour still running down her. Which did not sit well with Freda. Her gambeson jacket had become a soggy piece of mess that weighed double what it did before and her shield had just been slung Miriam's way after nearly a day of arguing about it - an unnecessary weight, given she was forced to carry the half dead blonde girl everywhere.
She was not keen on holding it, for obvious reasons - it weighed more than she did, Freda guessed.
"We will rest when we can. Right now? We cannot. I have given you... occupation of pathfinder simply because it benefits us all." Freda complained.
Miriam was quick to jab back, the fire between them only grew hotter. "Well, I could just stop and then what would you do? Yeah. Figured." It hurt more knowing it was true.

She followed the Huntress into where she decided to camp without much a question and upon arrival chucked the half-dead Ellie next to a tree as delicately as one could with "throwing"; carrying her had started to get on her nerves - and the rain had snapped quite a few; it remained very visible in her demeanour. Ellie landed with a soft thud to down onto the wet foliage, which she soon draped in her very damp red cloak and whatever she could scramble together to keep her from dying of the chill that had set in from the freezing rain. Freda plopped herself down beside the Spirit Walker and peered at her. Thinking. Leia had joined them, as-well. This damn dog had started to grow on her, probably because they connected somehow - before long the wet dog forced its way into her lap and licked Ellie's hair calmly as she settled down for the night.

Moments passed in reflection before a thump and wet fire-wood was presented out before her. "Hey, does your God grant wishes like... you know, 'Dry my firewood, oh great and powerful deity!' 'cause, that'd be great. Probably, somehow could get this going. Ugh." Freda stared her down for a second and knew it'd shut her up. Which it did, knowing that any further argument would end badly for her - she liked to keep up the strong facade, even if she would never actually hit anyone unprovoked. It was amusing, though.
The resourceful hunter had a few tricks and with dedication bore fruit. She managed to catch a spark into some dry tinder she had been collecting along the way, as with some twigs she kept dry to try and get the fire going - it was more smoke than flame but it had enough fuel to keep going and the thick, huge canopy above provided ample protection. This girl had potential, she figured; if a muzzle was added.
Freda snorted at that, gaining the attention of the dog and the Hunter at the same time - both making around the same noise which made her laugh further, pulling the dogs head up to nuzzle against, muttering at the mutt. "Stupid dog."

Later...

The fire crackled and burned, illuminating a very small area in the woodlands. Ellie had begun to mutter once again, how this girl was alive still amazed Freda - though any attempt to converse with her was just void - it was either madness or silence. Miriam had taken to sleeping on the other side, bundled up in all those ridiculous clothes. Freda had taken the watch. She couldn't sleep anyway's. It had been nearly a full day or more now than her initial episode. Or whatever it was; she had no true idea or the gravity of it all. Why was she chosen? Was it some device of some other deity. Some darker one. The Flame would guide her - what had it not? It was the Phoenix's guiding light and reverence that she was still alive. Still kicking and now she had a straight shot duty in these two wayward souls.

Suddenly, a huge crack smashed through the forest as if something massive had just parted a tree from its roots. This awoke everyone, even the comatose Ellie with a scream. Leia barked and Miriam sprung to pick up her bow and readied it - drawing an arrow to knock into her bow and immediately looking to the sluggish warrior. Freda kicked the fire out and picked out her spear and shield, she had a faint idea what this creature was and how to react.
A forest Troll. The most elusive creature and perhaps the most deadly in the woodlands. Six metres tall and fuming. Some claim they were created out of powerful void magic long ago, likely why they were so angry and scarce. The massive bellowing that followed and cracking from splinters flying everywhere. In the darkness it even terrified the Phoenix. "Miriam, take Ellie and go. Be quiet and don't draw attention. If you reach the Fort and I do not, tell them I sent you; make sure they tend to the Walker - but do -not- tell them what she is. Keep the healers quiet." She squinted in the gloom, nodding. Miriam was antsy but she knew better than to argue at this time. Freda had her duty to uphold and took no arguments, moving out to face this colossal threat - she expected death, but who didn't when facing such darkness? In the darkness.

It was almost quaint.

The thudding grow stronger and stronger, the booming of the beasts nostrils and the smashing of the logs it found displeasing. It was said such creatures could eradicate an entire forest in a year and all its wildlife. A bear would be a worthy fight for the Knight but a Troll? Freda was questioning her ability every second. Before long she had thrown her shield aside, it was useless - it would require speed and two weapons to overcome this enemy. Somehow. She bore her broadsword and spear in both hands and advanced towards the creature, which slowly began to get closer and closer - it would of been on them long before they could run away. It sounded miles away a minute ago, no doubt having taken on the smell of flesh; stories spoke of the Troll's ravenous hungers, a tale to tell children that they will be devoured if they were bad. Now she felt even worse, recounting all these damn stories. A scream boiled up in her throat from the frustration which she bellowed forth.
Seconds past. Utter silence fell, the woman's roar had silenced the woods for but a second before it was returned, the Troll had already arrived; towering over the woman and filthy. He roared out, spewing spit and snot from its massive maw right back at the warrior. This sent a shiver down her spine.

This would be her last fight, she concluded. Freda was not about to make it an easy one.

Chapter 17: Uneven odds

The spear whistled over his head, and he swear he could have heard it rasp against the helmet. No matter. Leofric weighed the sword in his right hand and reached out to tap the knight's shoulder infront of him with the left, signalling them to advance. They were slowly losing the battle over the barricades, simply by the fact that they were severely outnumbered. It was all or nothing now. If the gates fell, then all would be lost. He raised a hand above his head, gesturing forward while shouting at the reserves holding behind the barricades. "Go! Move in!"

The soldiers formed up in squares steadily advanced to reinforce their struggling comrades at the barricades. So far they had not been breached at any location, but the number of fallen black-clad northerners were alarming enough. The sight of fresh troops filtering in to reinforce the barricades seemed to cause the Raylians at the front to waver. A few started to push themselves backwards, gradually followed on by their brethren behind them. Leofric heard a few of his men taunt the enemy or cheer, believing that the battle had turned - that they had inflicted enough damage to the enemy. But the way the Raylians retreated suggested otherwise. It wasn't a blind rush in retreat, but rather a disciplined, orderly fall-back at a steady pace. Someone had called them back from the gates.

Leofric twitched a frown. The enemy had another trick up their sleeve, must've had. Before he could collect his thoughts and decide what to do next, a loud crack emitted from the sky above them, similar to that of a lightning strike. He looked up, and what he saw perplexed him. It seemed like the very sky was stirring, the clouds gathered together, as if someone was reeling them in. After forming into one, large mass, the clouds started to shift and slither downwards in an uncanny way. A chill went down Leofric's spine as he relised what was happening. Magic.
The wind got fiercer as the clouds encroached closer to the ground, before disappearing beyond the wall. Leofric turned on his heels and quickly ran to the side, towards a set of stairs leading up the wall. Reaching the top, he could see the Raylian force below, patiently waiting in silent ranks. The clouds, the magical abberation, kept going north, before it took a sudden turn and rushed back towards Lowburg. Leofric clutched the wall with a hand, watching as the conjuration picked up in speed and flew like a bolt toward the gates. He knew what was happening, but they were never going to get away in time. Regardless, he turned around and yelled down to his men behind the barricades, who had also spotted the strange event occuring above. "Retreat! Fall back! Fall back!"

Before anyone could react, the mass of clouds and air struck against the gate with a force worthy of Gods. It tore the gate and parts of the wooden wall clean off, throwing pieces of lumber and splitter into all directions. Leofric witnessed for only a second how his men behind the barricades were thrown backwards into the buildings behind, before the wall he stood on gave away. The world spun around, nothing was beneath his feet anymore. He felt the wind tear and drag in his cloak as he realised he was flying through the air, before he hit something hard, and an excruciating pain rushed through his back - his helmet was torn off and he felt the sword slip out of his grasp. White and black flashed before his eyes until he finally landed on something partially soft, but it knocked the breath out of him all the same. He gasped for air, his head was ringing. He blindly reached around for something to grab on to but only grasped nothingness. He groaned internally and dropped his arm, but someone grabbed his hand before it reached the ground. More hands grabbed him, and he was helped up to his feet. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out dark silhouettes around him. Whoever had grabbed him started to move, dragging Leofric with them. His boots dragged behind him, his feet unwilling to cooperate with him.

The world was blinking in and out from his conciousness and he wasn't sure how much time had passed. When he came to his senses and looked around he saw that he was inside a building with rich decorations, lush plants and impressive paintings. There was only one place in Lowburg that could have this, and he concluded in his spinning head that he must've been inside the manor. He blinked sluggishly and looked ahead, watching as a figure kneeled down before him with someone in their hand. The tip of a waterskin was pressed to his lips, and he sub-conciously took a healthy swig, ending up with a coughing fit. The pain in the back was still present, and also felt his head pounding now. He focused his vision at the person kneeling infront of him, and eventually recognised the man as one of his knights. His visor was up, exposing a grizzled face and greying hair. It took a moment for Leofric to recall the knight's name - Sir Rodges.

"Sire? Sire, can you hear me?" the knight inquired. Leofric groaned and mustered to nod his head. "Are we in the manor?"

The knight nodded, looking aside. "Yes, Sire. We found you a distance away from the gates and managed to take you here."
Leofric blinked again and turned his head to the right, registering a few more men inside the manor. But they weren't many, he counted only fifteen. "Who made it?"

"Captain Hal and group of soldiers, as well as myself and Sir Richard. As soon the gate was gone the Raylians stormed inside, butchering all of our men. We barely escaped with our lives."

Leofric gritted his teeth as another painful surge rushed through him. "And the southern wall?"

"Don't know, Sire. From what we can tell they didn't make. So far there's been so sign of other survivors in the streets." Rodges replied with a pinch of bitterness in his voice. "But the manor is secure for now. I don't think anyone saw us coming up here."

Leofric nodded. "Keep an eye on the windows. If you see the enemy come this, inform me at once. Now help me up."

Sir Rodges assisted Leofric up to his feet and he gave the knight an appreciative nod before waving the man off. Despite the pain in his back, he could still walk. Nothing was broken, at least.



With some struggle he ascended the stairs guiding up to the second floor, and he pushed himself through the doors leading into his chambers. From the windows he had a good view of the town. He saw groups of armoured men rush through the streets and he was fully aware that they were not his own. He turned his eyes away from the streets and looked past the walls to the northern hills, now shrouded in fog. He wasn't sure when that had rolled in, but it must have been quite some time ago, as he was certain it started to slowly dissipate. Leofric was just about to look back to the streets when something to the north caught his eye. Through the light fog he could just barely make out the dark mass behind it, and as the fog continued to loose up, the mass turned into men - thousands of them, marching down from the hills in ranks with raised banners. On the flanks came just as many cavalrymen, if not more. Hope rekindled within Leofric. There was no force to the north except his own.

Arthur had returned with help.

The roar echoed throughout the forest, almost causing the trees to shake. It stroke equal fear into both the useless excuse of a Walker and the huntress. Miram briefly turned around, shaking her head with certainty that she wasn’t going back there, not in a thousand winters.

“No. No. No. No” She muttered out, as she picked up the pace. Eliana had begun to actually move on her own, though stumbling all the way ahead, to wherever they were going. Even Leia seemed to ease off with her happiness, barking left and right in the woods.

“Not now Leia! Hush!” Miriam sternly shouted at the dog, which simply returned the order with an open mouth, and her giant flapping tongue. The three girls kept their guard up, some more than others. Unsure whether they were going insane or if something was actually moving in the bushes, they darted off.

Noises were coming from every direction in the forest, and nothing was calming the nerves of Miriam. She wasn’t having much trouble navigating however. Eliana on the other hand, was more of a mess than she had been earlier. If her current trance wasn’t an embarrassment, her half-dead running through the woods certainly was. The rumours that had been told about those trees that surrounded them were horrifying. There was a reason a troll was to be found in there.

“This is getting tiresome. I’ll take it from here, dear.” A sadly familiar voice echoed in Ellie’s mind, bringing a brief headache along with it. The blonde girl seemed to step up her game, minimising the stumbling and actually seeming to run. It was a strange feeling. She wasn’t in entire control of herself, but knew perfectly well what she was doing, just as if her body obeyed someone else. It was so relieving to just let go.

Miriam seemed to notice Ellie’s sudden change of pace, assuming it was the earlier determination that had overtaken her again. “This way Ellie!” she said, waving her hand to a small path that ran through the forest. Miriam almost slid along the ground, as she stopped in the middle of the escape. A silhouette sat on the road, or slept perhaps? Leia raised her hackles, sniffing the air, and snarling at the thing. The animal seemed to react, gnarling in return. As it stood up, the massive size was revealed.

The bear took heavy steps towards the trio, with it’s heavy and wet fur almost dragging along the ground, as it was lit up by an opening in the trees, the face of the bear was revealed. It was harshly bruised, and Miriam could swear some of it was missing. Miriam and the Walker ran in each their direction as the bear charged towards them. Leia barked a couple of times, before realising the bear had to be deaf, since it didn’t react to the dogs’ terrifying ‘Woofs’. Miriam hid behind a tree, as she got her bow out and finding an arrow for it. She turned around, scouting for the bear. Even though they had been legging it for a while, the troll’s roaring could still be heard in the distance. Eliana stood on the opposite side of the path, meeting Miriam’s gaze. The huntress looked around for Leia, hearing rustling in the bushes all around, followed by a mighty roar. Leia jumped out onto the path, with the giant beast following right behind. Without a moment’s doubt, Miriam took aim and released an arrow. The bear roared out, but didn’t seem to care much. It went straight for Miriam this time, who managed to dart off. She got another arrow out, and loosely fired it for the bear.

Eliana tried to keep up, snatching a few rocks on her way. She tossed it for the bear, not giving her action much thought. The confused, yet furious ball of rotten fur turned around again, changing its target. As it was chasing the Walker, the brave dog leaped for it, attempting to bite into the neck of the bear. Ellie picked up the nearest sturdy stick she could, seeing as she was missing her staff. Again, she didn’t feel like she was controlling her actions, more just suggesting them to her body, which simply overruled her. The bear shook off Leia, and jumped at the girl. She was met with an unmatchable force, and thrown right down into the dirt. Before the bear could start clawing away at the woman, the headache came back, followed by a strange event. The bear simply halted, staring down at its potential victim. An eerie dark smoke emerged from the Walker’s face, and forced itself into the bear. She was met with a whimper, as the bear grew weaker, and Ellie felt a certain energy surging into her. But she had no idea what was happening. Someone else did, she figured, as the bear’s soul was drained from it.
The monstrosity collapsed, and fell unto the ground next to Eliana.

For some reason, she cracked a mischievous smile, as the voice spoke again.
“Strangely satisfying, is it not?”

Miriam
Chapter 16: The not so silent woods

"What in the name of..." Miriam remained hanging from the branch she had begun climbing. The rules for fighting against bears were simple; Don't do it. She looked down to where Ellie sat, the giant furball had fallen down on the ground next to her and it didn't move. "Ellie?!" She shouted down. "Are you alright?" Miriam still hung from the branch with one leg over it, she had an arrow betwixt her teeth and her voice was muffled because of it. Eliana looked up to where Miriam hung and gave her a sort of smile, Miriam didn't like it.
"Never better." She said and stood back up, with suspicious leisure she dusted herself off and looked down at the giant dead bear next to her. Leia approached and circled the bear, sniffing its fur with disdain. She then looked up at Miriam and barked proudly, panting in glorious victory over her greatest foe.
"Well..." Miriam started saying with an uncertain voice. "What happened?" The Walker smiled and gave Leia a light pat on the head.
"It's just magic, no need to worry your little head about it." Miriam twitched a frown. Her head wasn't that little.
"Hmph." She humphed while swinging herself off the branch, she landed on the dank ground with a thud and promptly swung her bow back over her shoulder. Approaching the dead bear to rip one of her arrows out of its thick fur. It had hardly pierced the skin of the great beast and yet Ellie had killed it with no issue what so ever. Something was seriously off, and the only person who knew what was off fighting monsters in the woods. Miriam looked skywards and spotted the light of some stars, she then found the closest boulder and checked on which side the moss grew. All the while Eliana remained close to the bear, petting Leia, wearing a strange smile on her lips.
"We're not far off out of the woods now." Said Miriam, looking back to the strange Spirit Walker. "The Southern exit should bring us out into the fields. Then it's just a day's walk to the fort. That a way." She pointed down south into the dense woods. Eliana nodded firmly and took a few steps that direction, she was full of vigour that Miriam honestly envied. Weariness had hit her like a rock and no adrenaline rush could match it. Her legs still hurt from where the shadow tendrils had tripped her but it wasn't the largest hindrance in the world.
"Good. I look forward to meeting these healers." Said Ellie, taking some steps into the forest to where Miriam had pointed. Miriam struck a concerned frown and adjusted the bow over her shoulder.
"Yeah, well..." Miriam looked back the way they had come and as she looked the whole forest seemed to shudder with a tremor of power. Something roared within it and Miriam could imagine what it had been. "How do you think she's doing?" Eliana looked the same direction and seemed to consider this for a moment.
"Don't underestimate those knights. She may survive." It was a blatant statement and it lacked the uncertain tone that had defined Eliana earlier. Miriam considered her available actions for a moment, eventually she sighed out and gave a sharp whistle. Leia ran up to her immediately.
"Lells. Stay with Ellie." She commanded with a sharp nod and Leia replied with an affirmative bark. Miriam then looked up at Ellie where she stood at the brink of the thick foliage. "Wait just outside the woods, ought to be some elevation you can find. Got it?"
"And where are you going?" The girl queried curiously.
"Picking up our jailor..." Miriam sighed and shook her head meaningfully.

The way back was simple enough to traverse, Miriam had rushed through more dense woods before, but none with such hesitation. Whenever she had encountered a threat she and Leia were always fast and clever enough to avoid it competently or smartly run away. That was how she handled it, this hero business was simply not in her nature. There was another roar and Miriam changed her direction slightly to match it, she wanted to appear on the flank of the beast at least. She passed through a glade she recognized and the thundering steps of the monster grew louder, she heard someone shout in the same direction. Obviously the knight, Miriam did not even know the name of her jailor but at this point and time, she had to admire the courage that she possessed. She would have called it stupidity but considering the position Miriam had gotten herself into she figured she couldn't really judge people's intelligence anymore. Miriam pushed through some shrubbery and sprang out the other side into the pounded glen.

The gray back of the monster towered in front of her, its bull tail swished back and forth in frothing fury and its massive arms pounded the ground before it, or rather one of them did. The other hand was pierced by a spear held by the knight who thrusted against it in furious desperation. She bellowed a battlecry and pushed back, a futile action as the troll took a thundering step back and then swung its other hand about, it struck into the knight and threw her aside, but her sword had met it and the troll roared alongside the wounded knight as its hand was cut into.
"Crap. Crap. Crap." Miriam breathed rapidly and quickly flung her bow about, she strung a bow and pulled back the string past her ear. Actually striking the troll would be simple, the plan after that was less clear. She let the arrow go and it whistled past her ear speedily, it flew through the air and then struck against the back of the troll's head. A hit! Miriam thought. Only to realize the arrow had bounced off the skin. "Oh.." The monster growled and turned its head around, the large maw snorted and its blistered snout sniffed for the new target.
"Miriam?! What're you doing?!" The exhausted voice of the knight was heard from the other side of the troll.
"I don't know!" Miriam shouted back and quickly turned on her heels. She shrieked and sprung past one of the overturned logs just as the fist of the troll smashed into the ground behind her. She stumbled and quickly rolled to pick up her momentum, with the bow held in her hand, some of her arrows were lost in the movement. Miriam made a turn as the troll flipped the log in mad fury, roaring in frustration. The log crashed into the trunk of some tree that Miriam ducked beneath. She shrieked again, cursing her decision and cursing the knight, the troll and Walter. She did however keep moving, running from trunk to trunk to avoid the flailing of the furious monster. Eventually she had circled the glen halfway and was suddenly stopped by something in her path. She thudded against it.
"I told you to leave! Where is Ellie?!" The knight gave Miriam a whack over the head.
"Outta the woods by now with Leia. Don't you worry about miss Magic fingers!" Miriam shouted back up at the taller woman. "She can take care of herself." Their argument was interrupted as the tree they hid behind was smashed into, it creaked and some of the bark snapped off of it. The troll reached its hand behind to try and reach them, while pushing its weight against the tree. The Knight thrust her spear into the hand and the troll recoiled, but only grew angrier. "Besides. I came back to help you. So.... You're welcome!" The knight groaned and took hold of Miriam by the arm, dragging her away from the tree. They rushed past a mossy rock just as the troll toppled the tree they had hid behind. It turned and followed them, fuming with ravenous fury. Freda flung Miriam behind herself and readjusted the grip of her weaponry. The knight was tired but obviously intent on either winning. Or dying.
"Then help! And don't get in my way."
"Tsk. Excuse me, Princess." Miriam sassed back while drawing one of the few arrows she had in her hip quiver. She knocked it and awaited the Knight's move.

"Good to know I make you laugh!" Freda would of laughed if her lungs didn't feel like they were on fire. It was a good feeling, or that was just the adrenaline speaking. She had already died three times in the past five minutes only to somehow escape it by a thread - she felt almost like a cat; completely insane as-well. Probably not far off a cat, she concluded.

Either way, something was guiding her - there was a wind at her back and she felt faster than ever. Or just the prospect of death whilst doing her duty was all she ever wanted. She charged the Troll who quickly answered, it stomped out in her way, slamming it's giant, webbed foot into the ground just before the Knight. It drowned out whatever Miriam's witty response was.
Water, mud and oddly enough blood followed - seems he smashed a small critter or something; just to add to the graviy of this beast. Either way, she swung her sword as hard as she could into the monsters ankles and actually struck home. The blade sliced deeper than it ever had. The creature roared out in something akin to anguish, quickly recoiling and causing even more damage to the forest and itself.
The Troll wasn't too pleased by being slashed in the ankle with a sharp, pointy and shiny twig - it recoiled backwards further and picked up one of the fallen trees that prodded at his behind.
The log came spinning at Freda whom had charged after in her success only to gag loudly and gasp it out after, the log swung over her head and flew right at Miriam. The Hunter squeaked and ducked, jumping onto the ground quickly which she felt in her chest but it wasn't as bad as the log that sailed over her head and smashed into a few opposing trees.
The logs cracked and smashed overhead, bending inwards and collapsing. It would of squished the little Hunter if not for the roll she performed. Managing to lose a few more arrows in her clumsy footing. It was of no consequence as she was just as dedicated as the Knight - if not more. She began to fell her true calling, or just having a log thrown at her was a terribly annoying thing to endure. "Take this, ugly!"
Miriam drew the string back to her cheek after notching the broad-head arrow on it and fired! It whizzed through the air to smack into the Troll's head once again, just beneath his eye-lid. The soft, under-covering was thin enough to be pierced and guided it straight into the monsters eye, ripping through tendons and muscle to leave the creature partly blinded. Each wound suffered seeped a black, void magic. It did not bleed blood and was as the rumours said, a creature of darkness. The Huntress chirped in delight, quickly running off as to not bring any ire her way - but oh did it come.

The creature bellowed out, kicking and screaming as it threw a massive and ugly tantrum. The ground heaved in turmoil underneath them as it began to buckle under the weight of the monsters anguish. It's defeat was drawing near and it was having none of it. It stomped, smashing and with one faithful blow - struck Freda square in the chest, this gave the Phoenix her wings and send her flying a short distance away only to have her journey halt as she hit a tree part-way, slamming into it with enough force to shatter bones.
She spluttered harshly, spewing out blood for a second before landing on her knees, unsure what was even keeping her alive at this point. Her body remained had buckled under the blow that surely should of killed. Her body felt almost broken yet, she stood up - the footing was sloppy, as if someone had just stepped into her skin and threw her aloft. Freda started to hyper ventilate as she felt the pain overwhelm her - the same pain as it was like waking up just seconds before her trip into the Outworlds. In that split second of a time, her eyes welled up in a veil of blood and she went numb, one final scream prevailed out her lungs before she went dark. Her blood stopped coursing and her heart went numb. It's beating the only thing she could here and then.

Nothing.

Freda was no longer Freda, or what she perceived as herself. Miriam watched from afar with astonishment or fear, she quickly knew was something wrong, she stupidly shouted out from her cover. "Hey, Knight! You... doing alright?!" The Troll had quickly forgotten about the pesky hunter and let the anger within drive him. It towering over this figure that began to swirl with magic. The blood veil over her face continued to drip, blanketing her clothes and face in blood as it left every orifice. This was the price of possession.
Whatever controlled Freda. Somehow. Somewhere. Knew full well it was not meant for this world and used its power only sparingly - there was dire consequences to follow, but whatever being controlled the fledgling warrior did not want to see her dead. Another worldly voice left the Knight's lips, echoing out in a long-forgotten language. "Azar. Azan. Fledo-aran. Hin, yo, nag-yar."
The words started to create an unending tempest of magic, a veil or spiral of magic to the heavens was created and before long silence fell. The magic stopped for but a moment to allow both the Human's listen to this celestial being speak through it's vessel.

"Your time has not come yet, young one's. There is much yet to do. Seek the Walkers. It is your only hope." The voice itself was that of a woman's, yet echoed with the depth to rival what a god should sound like.

And within seconds of the voice dissipating, a devastating display of foreign magic burst from Freda's body and rippled through the forest. An immense, immeasurable blinding light spewed out from the warrior and caused her to drop as the possession ended. The spell was already done. This wave of Light created a massive blast zone, decimating trees and outlying life in its majesty.

Miriam was swept off her feet for but a second yet did not seem at all affected from the light at all as she had quickly shut her eyes - much to her dismay; she wanted to watch more. She knew, however, it'd blind her if she kept looking.
The mighty Troll let out one final roar of anguish before it was drowned out by the destructive wave of magic. It quite literally dissipated into nothingness, the swirling mass in the ground zone of the magical explosion sent any dark, void magic back whence it came; purging it in some unknown force. A benevolent spirit had intervened in that instant and anyone with a small ounce of knowledge could know that it was not something any Human, even a Mage, could ever hope to accomplish.

The entire area around Freda's dead-zone was smashed trees, burnt foliage and black void residue that combusted now it had no-where to go; nothing to seethe.



The bleeding Phoenix gasped for life, coming back into her own body as her heart raced - her blood pumped again and a crippling weakness filled her. Freda's limbs gave way and she collapsed into the dirt. Blood ceased to flow from her face but she was already covered in it - what the spirit had done almost killed her but in turn saved their lives. The Troll was far too powerful for any one Human to dare slay. It's kind was only the beginning. The use of the magic still rippled through the land of the North. The wave carried on and on through the woodland, causing the same devastation it had before and was visible for miles in all directions. It bent the forest and left behind with it a purging Light that did not break the boundaries of the forest, eventually losing momentum a few miles from the borders. The residue left behind was just as the void-magic, yet it was like snow but still burned with no energy to feed off.

Either way, Miriam rushed over to the now collapsed Knight and quickly went to see if she was dead or not - to say she was confused was an understatement yet she didn't feel fear or worry for some reason and was more concerned with the Knight than anyone else.

"Uh, well, good job? You awake?" Miriam said, trying to get the unconscious Knight's attention. "Can't say that wasn't entertaining."

Chapter 18: The king's men

The king took a deep breath and turned around to walk out of the room. He descended the stairs again and beckoned over his two remaining knights, which swiftly scurried over to their monarch. "Sword.", he concisely commanded. Sir Richard procured the king's sword and extended it with the hilt first, presumably he had found it out on the street when they stumbled upon the royal. Leofric grasped his weapon and eyed it over briefly. Despite a prolonged use, the blade remained in pristine condition. Leofric and his knights had their weapons crafted from a metal commonly known as Skysteel in the Northlands. Skysteel was extremely durable and tough, but also rare and was only found in the mines located in the peaks of the northernmost mountains in the kingdom, where the metal received its name from.

Leofric clenched his left hand and looked up. "Our reinforcements are here. Sir Arthur is descending the northern hills with a vast army as we speak. We'll hold the manor until he has retaken the town. This will be the first place our lads will come looking.", he leered to both knights in turn, waiting for their response. They both nodded. Leofric shuffled past the two knights to find Hal, whom he suspected was occupied somewhere in a vacant room with forging an escape plan of sorts. A sudden shout caused him to stop and turn around. One of the soldiers that kept watch by one of the windows next to the manor entrance took a few steps back and pointed somewhere on the outside. "They're coming! The bastards are actually coming this way! They've found us!"

Leofric hurried over to the nearest window and glanced outside. Across the plaza he could see a large group of Raylian soldiers approaching, and he swiftly counted up to at least thirty of them. A few of them pointed towards the manor and shortly after the enemy troop set off into a jog. Leofric sighed and stepped away from the window, his right hand reaching for the grip of his sword. "Rally to me! We've got a fight on our hands!"
Around the manor his men sprung to attention and rushed over to form up infront of the entrance with raised shields, at least those that still had them. A door to one of the side-rooms opened up and from it came Captain Hal running out who swiftly joined up with the rest. Sir Richard and Sir Rodges walked off to the sides and took up places by a window each on either side of the entrance door, their hawkish eyes staring out at the approaching enemy with ruthless determination. Hal appeared at Leofric's side and extended a spare shield, though he dismissed it with a hand gesture. The officer shrugged a shoulder and grabbed the shield for himself before barging past the formed up soldiers to take the front.

Leofric eyeballed the few men he had left. They had formed up in ranks of four, and the narrow entrance would serve to their advantage. They just had to keep the Raylians from flooding in too many at once. He could now hear voices from the enemy outside, and something hard suddenly hit the door. Leofric's men had naturally locked the door behind them, but it was no gate by any means. The Raylians would have it off the hinges within moments. Something hit the door again, judging by its force it must have been a ram, makeshift or otherwise. Leofric took another breath and braced himself.




The town was within clear view now, and what he saw fueled his resentment. A steady stream of enemy soldiers rushed in through the massive gap in the wall and much of the town still stood smoking. Arthur's lips formed into a thin line in silent bitterness and his left hand tightened its grip around the reins of his partially armored destrier. Voices reached his ears from the town as the Raylians spotted them and begun to form up outside the broken walls. Arthur guessed that most of their men were inside Lowburg at this point, as the ranks forming consisted of a meagre few hundred men. He turned his eyes away from the enemy and looked at his own advancing down the hillside, near five thousand of them, with the majority sitting on horseback, and behind him waited the other half of the "Liberation Army" as some of the men had taken to calling themselves.

Trumpets and battle-drums sounded through the air as the first half of the army reached the bottom of the hills and its archers unleashed volley upon volley at the outnumbered Raylians. After having sufficiently weakened the enemy the trumpets culminated in rapid succession, signalling the charge. The first few ranks broke off and stormed ahead with a mighty warcry, causing some of the lesser courageous Raylians to turn tail and run. Meanwhile, the one and a half thousand horsemen on the right flank wheeled in and spurred their four-legged companions into a vicious charge, simultaneously clashing into the side of the Raylian force as the infantrymen barged into their front, resulting in a swift but bloody end to the Raylian resistance.

Arthur turned around in his saddle and made a gesture with his hand, ushering the remaining five thousand men onwards. "Take back the town! Find the king!", and then urged his destrier down the hill, followed by a contingent of knights. The horsemen spread out and circled around Lowburg to mop up whatever Raylian soldiers remained outside, while Arthur and his knights and led the four thousand infantrymen into the town itself. The soldiers branched off into the various streets of Lowburg and sound of battle quickly picked up. Arthur rode for the manor and encountered barely any resistance on the way, whatever Raylian that happened to stand in their way was quickly cut down on the move.

Finally he reached the plaza before the manor and held in his horse, followed suit by the other knights. The manor sat silent, its front door breached. Arthur frowned deeply and swung a leg over the saddle to dismount while gesturing for the other knights to do the same. He ordered five of his men to remain with the horses while he gathered the others and marched off towards the manor.

"Let's go. For all our sake I hope the king is still alive."

Walter
Chapter 7: Rebirth

The Syren slowly faded out of view. Walter watched the gray blot of fog where he could see the pram of the ship lie, clouded in the thick gray mists. Like the melancholy of his heart, the fog lay as a sheet which hid all of his true desires from him. An uncertain emotion crept into his heart, he could not think rationally for this was not a puzzle that the mind could solve and the emotion he felt could not be described with words coherent. It was insignificant. The ship was no longer in sight and he had lost his chance. Yet he persisted to look into the fog where the ship had once been visible. Harsley paddled with determined vigour behind him and with each stroke the powerful man pulled they drifted further apart from the Syren, and from home. Walter was certain Harsley spoke to him, though he did not hearken and the words only came across as meaningless grandiure. The water blended together with the gray fog and it sloshed in pace with Harsley's rowing. Walter looked into the fog until he was no longer searching, he only stared numbly, expecting and awaiting nothing to appear. He remained sat like this, and for the remainder of the trip he wished he and Olive had remained with the man whom offered them rest all that time ago. He wished that they had never reached this point and finally he wished that maybe at the end of this fog lay awakening. And they would in truth, still be on the road. Forever walking.

This was only a dream. It had been an obvious ruse of the mind, but Walter still found himself dissapointed when he found reality at last. The shore that he stepped down on was not sand, it was a myriad of sharply cornered rocks that had by the sea's incessant power been whittled from the great cliff that sat before them. It was not particularly tall but due to the heavy fog its peak was not visible. The air was damp and the reek of seaweed littered the inhospitable shore. Harsley dragged their small boat unto the shore and joked something about Walter helping while twiddling the fingers on one hand in a mystical fashion. Walter watched the large man with dour expression, he wore a coat befitting the poor weather and had changed hats to one less ludicrous, in fairness he was a good man. Loyal and strong, undoubtedly useful. But Walter was only struck with dissapointment when he looked at him. How could anyone be excited to be here? To leave everything behind for the sake of death alone? If this was honour, then Walter wanted none. Walter looked down the beach past the man as he could stomach the thought no longer. It looked much the same as the rest of the landscape: gray. The cliff sat to their left, unwelcoming and pointy. Lazarus isle, the closest of Valentus' many islands to the mainland and to their enemy. Walter found himself following Harsley forward. Truly. they were in no rush, they were to meet the local garrison and prepare for the fleet's arrival in three week's time. This place would be the staging point for the war to come and preperations needed to be made by seasoned and willing officers. Harsley fit this perfectly and would no doubt be able to do so alone, even without an army the man would no doubt go to war if the King demanded so. Relying on determination alone. Walter was here because he was an annoyance. He had been forced to leave and-... Though had he? He stopped to think: Had he not accepted his duty without recourse or even argument? He had obediently shied to the orders of his lord and the will of his country and perhaps this was the reason it hurt him so. More than his bandaged arm did. That he had simply walked.
”Come on, Andalus.” Harsley said over his shoulder, holding a lantern before him which lit up his stoic face. ”Long way to walk yet.” The captain smiled in a brotherly fashion for the sorcerer. In a way that Walter imagined he smiled to all of his kinsmen. Walter pitied his sense of duty but respected the man's simple position enough to respond.
”Yes... Lead the way.” He followed Harlsey down the beach and they were soon on the cobbled path, which would lead them to war.

The leaves slapped Eliana on her cheeks, as she made her way through the bushes and forest. She muttered angrily at them, cursing ever so un-ladylike. The girl was constantly haunted by the echoing voice inside her head. She had done her best to simply ignore it, but it was near impossible. It was still as if it controlled her, and the soul leeching hadn’t helped. Ellie wasn’t just demoralized by the fact she couldn’t control herself, but she had been forced to go against all her principles. The sun shun gently through the top of the trees, offering only a minuscule amount of light. But still, the forest was suddenly lit up. Confused, she turned around. Her eyes opened up widely, as she spotted a giant wave of blinding light. Her flight response kicked in for whatever reason, and she quickly set off.

The wave was coming at her with rapid speed. The young woman tossed herself behind a small hill, trying to cover from inevitable event. The light had begun to fade away, but it still surged over her with an impressive speed. Only a smaller amount of it actually hit the girl, but it burned her skin in such a horrible matter. Her mind was equally wounded, once again. Eliana opened her mouth to scream, but no words came out. As she crumbled into a small ball, her body almost broke down from pure stress. Leia had run ahead, hopefully being able to find a safe spot.

When the light finally passed, the Walker struggled to move at all. As time passed, she managed to get her senses back. The dress was ruined even more, and parts of her skin suffered from strange, unnatural burns. It seemed almost like… Markings? Her eyesight came back ever so slowly, and the burns became clearer. Several minutes passed, and barking was finally heard nearby. When she was able to see completely, she froze.

Whilst Leia stood in front of her, wagging her tail happily, Eliana was searching through her satchel in panic. She tore out one of the books Jonius had carried around. Still, she was not able to read them, but she knew she had seen the markings before. With haste she looked through the pages for a drawing. Tears almost broke out as she saw it, doing her best to calm herself. The markings were almost identical to those of the book. Jonius had spoken so fondly of the damn book. Written by some unknown, yet important mage. Her teacher had sometimes praised this person, and sometimes not. He agreed, and was happy with many of the studies in the books, but had heard rumours of slaughter caused by this man. And if there is one thing Spirit-Walkers want to avoid, it’s slaughter.

Eliana ran her fingers across the pages, shaking her head slowly. With all her might, she attempted to make out the words. But the letters moved around, and was awfully hard to keep track of. She gave up. Instead though, she tried to remember. Remember all those things Jonius had spoken about, about this book. Her mind was damaged, but she was able to remember so much.
Possession, she stopped. She whispered the words for herself.

“One marked with such markings has most likely… “ She wiped her eyes. “Been possessed of some mystical force. Those gifted with cleansing powers knows...” –“Of the markings.” The voice whispered within her mind, laughing in such a strange manner, almost as if it was hurt.

Miriam
Chapter 17: Dreams of Home

"What in the name of..." Miriam found the words oddly familiar in her mouth. She peeked out from her hiding spot upon the charred wasteland before her, trees were still crackling with sparks and embers, the dry moss on the rocks had all but been evaporated, as had any sign of the troll that had assailed them. The forest looked so different and the sensation it carried was also different, as if the entire forest had been altered by this immense power surge. Miriam warily climbed down from her rock and landed on the crispy ground, she felt lighter somehow as well and she had a smile on her face when calling out to the knight she could not see. "What is the DEAL with you two?! Wow-eehe!" She laughed and looked to the crevice where she assumed the knight would be. She was right. "Oh... Crud." Her tunic was splattered as if by paint, as was her face and hair. She was entirely drenched in blood and she lay completely incapacitated on the ashen ground, head fallen against the rock behind her. The air around her still seemed to sizzle with some magical energy. Miriam quickly drew in and gently tried to rouse the knight. "H-Hey... Uh, well. Good job! You awake?!" There was no response and the knight's head only slumped forward instead. Miriam gulped. "Damnit... Please don't be dead." She pleaded and then brought her head forward, she tilted it and pressed her ear against the knight's chest, listening intently for a few seconds. She then leaned back, relieved to have heard a heartbeat, if a faint one. "Oh, thank you!" Miriam drew a sigh of relief and sat down with her legs folded beneath her. "What a day..." She groaned and absently huffed a breath up at her black bangs. "Can't say that wasn't entertaining." She added, in a bit of a mad cackle.

"You... are heavier than you look." Miriam complained, she dropped the unconscious knight against the moss-covered tree, she then quickly fixed it so the woman was covered by her cloak, there wasn't anymore bleeding but she had already lost enough blood and was close enough to being dead. There would be no moving for some time at least. Miriam adjusted the knight's resting pose. She wiped away some of the blood covering the woman with her sleeve, she had no water to use so this would have to do. She doubted the knight really cared if she was blood-splattered, should be happy to be alive. Miriam sat herself down next to the woman she still didn't know the name of and a thought seemed to come to her, as a voice in the back of her head.
"You could just leave her." It suggested. Miriam looked around the forest. She then shook her head. "Who would blame you?" The voice in her head continued. "You could just say she was slain by the troll, no one would ever know." Miriam pursed her lips, she didn't like how articulate her head voices were, they had never been so malicious before either. "Miriam. If you stay here, you'll both die... This is for the best." The voice said again.
"Screw you, Head voice." Miriam muttered. And then it was silent, just like that. Miriam looked back to the knight where she lay and she figured she had to prove the head voice wrong. She was going to help this person. Why she had become such a compassionate person as of late she would never realize, but she kind of liked helping. It brought up a new feeling which seemed to make her warmer inside, a feeling that she enjoyed. She got it again now when looking at the Knight woman. Miriam cracked a smile for herself and adjusted her seat slightly. The air was chilly, even more so now without her cloak but she had suffered worse, especially when she was little. Miriam was quite confused with herself but the pictures just seemed to come to her: North, even more North than any person really ought to go, least of all live. There was a cabin halfway up the mountain, smoke rose from the small home's chimney from a fire that burned inside a large hearth. Around the hearth three people sat. A small girl with pitch black hair, uncombed and unwashed. Next to her sat an older boy, he was muscular and held the little girl close to his chest. Finally there was a woman, she wore a thick sweater and held a poking stick, which she often used to rouse the embers of the fire. Miriam smiled to herself again, she felt her eyes well with the beginning of tears and she sniffled once in happy thought.
"How quaint." The Head voice spoke up again, and Miriam's own memories now erupted. The hearth she had imagined exploded in an inferno not unlike what she had just witnessed and the three people around it were encircled and swiftly enveloped by the madly raging fire. Miriam then saw the cabin, as she had before but now it was a massive bonfire rather than a home, the flames cracked and whipped against the sky and before long, the house on the mountain was no more.
"Stop. Stop!" Miriam cried out, she held her hands over her head and balled her legs up, she shut her eyes in a desperate attempt to block out this vision but to no avail as the snippets of pictures came to her still. The house was no more, it was only a bundle of burnt logs and ashen stone. One pile of timber shifted, it buckled and gave way, a small hand crawled through the rubble and the little girl pushed her way out, she looked around, eyes glossy with her welling tears. "Please stop..." Miriam whimpered. She saw the girl crawl up, her wooly sweater had been singed by the fire but the girl was miraculously mostly unharmed. The girl shouted but there was no sound coming from her mouth, she cried the names of those who had sat next to her and then she waited. Her tears fell over her sooty face and her hair was smokey black, just as it had been before. Miriam promptly shoved herself to her feet, she buckled and wobbled but she stood. The vision ended, there was no more to come, just the sound of her head voice, ringing a hollow, concise laugh. Miriam fell back to her knees, she looked at her hands and she began to sob uncontrollably.

Freda heaved her sword in an arc, slashing against another warrior's sword in a shower of sparks. The warrior recoiled back as they collapsed sword. She twisted her sword down his blade and then forward over the cross-guard - which sent the broadsword through the Knight's faceguard and into his head. She recoiled with a gasp, twisting her head to the side and pulled the sword out from the man's face. He fell down. Dead. Another glance at her echo-less form sent shivers down her spine.
The form of a dark shade as it was before. This was all a dream, she knew - she was somewhere but was not awake. She knew it. Even if she had all her abilities of fighting.

Freda stood over the giant stone gate, it was open for her now. The only issue was all the warriors of old she found. All corrupted and black just as she was; the angry souls of the dead would assail her wherever she went. They all seemed in an immense influx, even if only a few went to attack her. They swarmed the area, almost - as if some grand event was about to actually begin. Whatever it was, the feeling was ominous but no fear filled her; it was as if something guarded her from it. Or what kept her hidden in the dense mass of timeless warriors. Past the gate and through the grand entrance there seemed to be the remnants of a town here with ancient language no one could try to decipher, yet the spirit that guided her helped with this. It, he, she? Whatever it was, appeared as a young woman, Ellie of all people. Shimmering with light and beyond ethereal. This was certainly -not- Ellie, it just took her form for... her comfort? Freda did not know.

She heaved out a sigh from behind her helmet, lifting the faceguard to inspect the walls they were before.



"Once there was people here. You see that now, with your own echoing-eyes. You will remember. You came here on my accord, so I may tend to your wounds here. I cannot act on your plain of existence, so call this your 'healing', my Lady." The spirit inclined her head with a small smile that was more creepy than anything else. It disappeared only to reappear at the opposing side of the wall.
"There was a King who lived here. An Elder, just before what happened here. The world was very young and he was building civilization as you see it -now-. So many years were lost when these people perished under their own timeless waste." The spirit landed right beside the warrior, motioning out to the wall.

"You will prevent all that, Risley. I will be your guide and guardian through this dark time. I cannot allow this to happen once more. Go to your people and you will see. Rally all you can and... bring me this girl. She will be my key. The Cultists are already clawing at her mind, that and her friend too - I felt it in my power discharge. They are slowly becoming their Thralls. If you ever need me, dream for me, Freda. I will take you into my arms. Now explore, learn. Find. You now come as you please" She smiles once again, then closed her eyes and disappeared once again - the apparition just vanished before her eyes, the energy simply evaporated.

What was she to do, she wondered. Then wondered if the spirit could read her mind, which made her growl. "How can I trust this..." Freda whispered to herself."... It's all so convenient. Yet, it did save me." The warrior sheathed her sword and wandered through the city once again. The place was empty, abandoned, everything had caved in on itself but the foundations still stood. Even standing remarkably well. She was right about how they built things to last, even the street layout was completely alien to her; the signs still stood and the roads were in perfect condition. Yet, she couldn't read whatever the hell was on the sign, so she just took the path upwards to see what she could 'find', as the spectral Ellie said. Almost as pushy as the other girl, she thought. Makes me carry her everywhere. A shallow laugh filled her mouth which she let out quietly.
There was a long walk down a corridor of houses and dilapidated shops but sooner or later she hit some large set of stairs that lead up into a dense, dense fog. This put her on edge, but there was no way to go back now. The sword exited her scabbard and the woman took the stairs up as slowly as she could. Thankfully, these people built big. The stairs were very, very wide. Almost as if to save space. Or that they had an immense excess for whatever this building was. It reminded her of the Cathedral of Saint Dar almost. Strange.

It took her nearly ten minutes of straight ascending to finally hit a flat surface. The fog was freezing to feel and she knew something would certainly be lurking within. It was Salvation, she prayed for. Freda marched forward only to be met by a set of large gates that opened straight for her - as if just by magic. This caused her to halt, half expecting some giant monstrosity to walk out and say hello. Luckily, this did not happen. Begrudgingly, Freda progressed on through the gateway. She made her way into the giant fortress of a place of worship, or perhaps this was just a governance building? A great Palace for a great King, huh. Freda smiled at that and took a few more steps inside before being great with a warrior. One not like the rest, as he had great wings made of corrupted black mess, his feet were that of a Drake's and hand's that of a reptiles. His face was covered in a black cloud that the shade's carried. He called out to his challenger. "You have come! Finally. A challenge. Defeat me and we speak. Lose and you die. Here and there." The creature hissed and threw his wings down, then back - he used this propel himself forward with a lighting fast speed, tearing straight through the air and towards the wood-be hero. She swung upwards with her sword to try and spike the creature but to no avail, she sliced against his armour and recoiled back, quickly getting out of the way of this monstrous beast.
The creature held a giant two-handed blade, larger than Freda herself. She concluded that parrying that was probably not going to work. She then just relied on him being slow, which he wasn't. The woman jerked backwards, getting out of range and awaited his first swing, which came quicker than she imagined. He slammed the sword down into the rock just inches away from her, though this gave her time the time to close the distance and slice at his hand. With some amazement in her eyes, she sliced through the ethereal hand and destroyed it entirely - she assumed this meant she "cut if off", somehow. There was no pain from it, it'd seem - it just disappeared. Alas, the large Draconid warrior sent a kick straight for the lumbering warrior and sent her flying. She scraped across the ground for quite awhile before she came to a slow halt, gravity helping quite the bit.

A coarse sigh came from her and as suddenly as adrenaline filled her, she fell to the ground and seemed to just lose all sense of being. She closed her eyes and opened them in a totally different world. Freda came back around with a desperate gasp for air and them down to the ground. Her eyes crossed with the sobbing Miriam's in utter confusion, which gave her a few seconds of clarity to collect herself. The warrior came to a stand, then a wobble and then just collapsed down onto her knees. "It was Freda, by the way. Given I know your name." She fell back onto her legs and took a pose that of an exhausted woman but she felt... invigorated, the spirit wasn't lying about this at least.
Miriam wasn't all too pleased to be in this state but still continued to weep for a good while only to slowly come back around, more when she saw the woman going to collapse, given she felt that was more important to assist than anything else. Yet, she wasn't needed it'd seem. She would smile for a second and nod, perhaps feeling safer?
"Dumb name, Southerner."

Chapter 19: Setback

He slipped upon the blood on the floor but extended a hand to catch himself against the doorframe. Past the main entrance bodies lay scattered on the floor, friend and foe alike. Arthur inhaled sharply through his teeth and pushed himself away from the door, taking a cautious step forward to not slip again. Behind him came the other knights, warily glancing around them as they entered the manor. It was eerily silent with nothing but the scent of blood greeting them, Arthur heavily weighed the sword in his hand and hoisted it up to rest upon his right shoulder while approaching one of the side-rooms. Lowering the sword from his shoulder, Arthur pressed the tip of the steel against the door leading into the room, slowly pushing it open. Empty, of course. Arthur turned around with a silent sigh, the other knights had also gone about checking the remaining rooms. He looked over to one of them inquiringly, but his fellow knight merely shook his head. Nothing.

Arthur turned on the spot to face the stairs leading up, but before he could approach them something suddenly grabbed around his left boot. Arthur twisted his wrist, the cold steel rapidly pointed down at whoever had grabbed him. Captain Hal stared up at him, teeth gritted in pain with a layer of sweat dotting his forehead. His other hand was pressed against his abdomen, over an evident injury. "Sir.."

Sheathing the longsword, Arthur dropped down to a knee at Hal's side, a hand held against the officer's shoulder. "Captain. What happened?" Arthur inquired, his eyes shifting to the other man's injury. Hal's hand was bloodied as he kept it pressed against his injury, undoubtedly caused by a sharp object. Trails of crimson seeped through his fingers, and Arthur realised with a heavy heart that Hal did not have long left.
"The king...", he mustered through laboured breaths. "... he's not here. Taken. Infront of our eyes." Hal coughed hoarsely, his head turning to the side to stare off at nothing in particular. Arthur raised the visor on his helmet before lifting it off his head to put aside. "Was it the Raylians, captain? Where did they go?"

Hal looked back to Arthur, his head shaking to either side. "No... A woman. And light.", the injured officer's face twisted into something that resembled both disgust and fear. "Magic."

Arthur felt a chill creep down his spine. If magic is the culprit behind the king's absence, then the chances of finding him are near impossible. He withdrew his hand from Hal's shoulder and clutched his digits around the grip of his sword. "Are you absolutely sure?", he inquired. Perhaps there was a slim chance that Hal was simply delirious and uttering nonsense. But Hal's expression told no lies and he nodded weakly, reassuring both himself and the knight. "...need to find the king. You have to find him." Hal spoke up again, and with seemingly renewed vigour he reached out with his free hand to grab Arthur around his arm, but as quickly his energy had come, it disappeared, and Hal's arm fell back to the floor. Arthur nodded. "I will do all that I can."

Hal nodded grimly before his head thudded back against the floor and the final breaths escaped his lips. Arthur sighed and lowered a hand to close the officer's eyes and then looked aside, back out the front door. Where would he even begin to start looking? And who was this enigmatic woman?

Arthur grabbed his helmet and rose up to his feet. He glanced around the interior, looking for anything that could've been used as a clue, but alas, he saw nothing. He felt the anger build up inside him and his hands clutched tightly around the helmet. If there were any higher powers in the world, then surely they were playing wicked games right now with both the Northlands' and Arthur's fortune. He sighed to calm himself down and turned the helmet around before putting it on. "Give these men the burial they deserve.", he muttered to the five knights that had accompanied him before storming outside the manor. The fighting had died down now, and the smouldering town stood silent. The howling wind and distant horses was all that sounded.

He clenched his hands and leered skywards through the helmet's visor. He had been left with precious few options, and he disliked every single one of them.

She had not moved from her hiding spot. The young girl had simply sat and stared at the markings on her arm. The land had been so kind to leave her undisturbed. The voice came and went, she couldn’t really tell when it was there, and when it wasn’t. Eliana still had the cloak she had been given earlier, and clenched it close to her. The former excuse of a dress held together for now, except for the new hole in the left sleeve. She leaned against a fallen tree, sighing heavily. A certain sense of abandonment hit her, as she stared into the distance of the forest. From what she could see, an opening might’ve been ahead. By the sight of it, a thought came into her mind, unsure if it was even her own. She felt an urge to run, to go, and get away.

More energy came to her, allowing her to push herself up. Eliana began walking towards the end of the forest, without much determination in her eyes. As she kept walking without much of a goal, her vision started to grow darker, until she couldn’t see anything. An urge to sleep overcame her, though she kept walking.

Her eyes opened up, and she felt her entire body again. The dress had been replaced with some white robe, with a few golden lines running down along it. The girl looked to her skin, which was completely clean again. She ran her hand through her hair, which was unnaturally clean and soft. Around her were a lively town, though all the citizens walked past her, as if she didn’t exist. Filled with confusion, she turned around, trying to make sense of the whole scenario. She was standing in a giant plaza, with so beautiful buildings surrounding it. So many different people had set up their small shops, creating a magnificent market. Eliana folded her arms, curiously looking around. Still, no one seemed to notice her.

A strange smoke crawled along the ground, forming into an ethereal figure. Again, it seemed that only Eliana reacted. The figure took the shape of an unknown person, but one Eliana felt some strange comfort standing next to. It was a woman, dressed in a dress only royalty could dream of. The woman had a blue glow around her, as she gave the Walker a friendly smile. She had long, beautiful golden hair. Her voice was soothing as the chirping birds in the summer, and the calm blue ocean.

“You see all this – you feel at home.” the ethereal woman started, looking around the plaza. “Yet none of it stands familiar to you. You do not know it. You have not seen it, not yet. But it is where you belong.” The woman took a few steps forward, her feet flying just above the ground. “Great danger comes, for all. The sky will crack, crying above the lands.” She said, pointing to the sky. It turned into a strange mixture between blue and a horrible red. Lightning began cracking, and the town panicked. Rain began pouring down in an unusual large manner. A rift in the sky opened up, with flaming stones falling from it. Creatures emerged from everywhere, destroying the buildings and ripping open every man, woman and child they could find. Eliana froze in place, stumbling backwards at the sight. One of the … things saw Eliana, charging towards her. It was on all four, but had a large chest, almost as if it was used to standing up. The fur was brown and corrupt, more than four eyes planted in the forehead, with six or so tentacles flying out of it’s mouth flying out in a vicious attack. The figure held up her hand, letting the blue energy flow out from it. A blue fire shot straight for the creature, burning it up where it stood. A horrifying scream was heard, as the creature died.

“The world is on the brink of doom. The Arrival will come. Heed the warning, Walker of Spirits.” The figure said, as the giant light blinded Eliana. When she could see again, the town was gone. They stood on a calm hill, with a light summer breeze. Before Eliana stood four creatures. A giant flaming bird folded out it’s wings, a wolf bowed it’s head down, a giant stag sniffed the air, and finally a horse with a set of wings. The four stood so peacefully, looking Eliana’s way.

“In harmony – peace. In animosity – extinction.” The voice echoed away, as the vision faded into black.

As her eyes opened up again, the young woman stood by the end of the forest, snapping back into reality. She looked around, muttering the words for herself, shaking her head.

Miriam
Chapter 18: Return

"Miriam, quickly now." Said Freda, the knight looked back to her with an eager look but still seemed sympathetic to the huntress' plight. Miriam pushed a branch out of her face, the forest was quiet and scorch marks had imprinted themselves on trees throughout it, it was easy to find the way back but Miriam found focusing much too hard currently. When she looked up, she could not see the sun, though Freda assured her it was there and whenever she shut her eyes she would feel the presence of her parasite, so she kept her eyes open.
"I'm trying." She complained, walking around a rock which lay in her way. "I'm not feeling very well."
"Which is precisely why we need to be swift, my people will have healers - We must find Ellie as soon as possible." Freda explained for the fifth time, she waited for Miriam now and afforded her a helping hand up the slope.
"Because the world is in terrible danger." Miriam muttered, the knight had explained her story but Miriam had paid little attention to it. "Ellie told you." Miriam added, as if to clarify the confusion.
"Ah.. Well, no. A spirit did." Freda said, pushing her way through some shrubberies. "It only appeared as Ellie."
"...Right." Said Miriam and looked back ahead, they were coming to the edge of the forest now.
"I am not of full understanding either." Said Freda, slightly vexed. "But the task is clear enough." She was very invigorated and moved as someone who hadn't been punched by a troll ten minutes ago. Miriam was growing rather jealous of her new companions and their magical boons, which seemed to give them unlimited potential, where as she was only getting dragged along this journey of theirs.
"If you say so." Said Miriam lowly. She honestly just wanted her dog right now. There was a brief silence as the subject was dropped, Freda spoke up again later.
"Why were you weeping?" She asked, her voice grown softer and more curious.
"As I understand it, I have a magical mad-man inside of me. So excuse me for crying." Said Miriam, rather annoyed. Freda frowned in some concern, most likely understanding there was more to it but she said nothing else about it. Miriam sighed, adjusted her large coat and looked back ahead, the trees became sparse, and the icy fields of the North were becoming visible through the woodwork.

There was a happy bark, Miriam bent down and embraced Leia's head in a tight hug. The dog nestled her muzzle against Miriam and lapped her tongue in the air happily. Ellie appeared next to her, she seemed more like herself now, whatever that meant with a girl such as her. She'd stopped talking to herself, at least. She and Freda spoke instead. Miriam did not truly listen to what but she felt as if the two were aware of things she could not even comprehend.
"We have got to hurry." Said Eliana to Freda, she held onto her tattered dress as it swayed with the cold wind. Freda nodded and looked down to Miriam and Leia.
"How much further is it?" She asked, Miriam struck a frown and pushed herself to her feet, Leia left her and skipped about in swift circles around both her and Freda. Miriam looked across the landscape, rolling hills that were tied together by slopes and stretches of dense wood, this part of the Northlands was mostly useless to her, though she knew them nonetheless, even without the sun she could point out the direction they needed to go.
"Day's walk south." She said, nodding that way. "There will be a road past those hills there." She spoke from her own memories, every road and path cataloged and mapped. Every crevice and town placed in order of necessity. This is what she was here for. "We will see the fort long before they see us."
"Then we've no time to loose." Said Freda, she then looked to Ellie who nodded gravely.
"I do not know how long we have, but I pray it'll be enough.." The Walker said, she then turned and looked out into the field before them, as if she saw something they could not. She then took a step, and another and like that she was leading the rest. The Walker was transfixed upon her location, the knight walked after her, focused upon her task. Miriam and Leia walked last, unsure about most of it. Miriam was at least, she looked down to Leia who returned a happy bark, and it filled Miriam with a feeling of hope, she reached down, patted the dog's head and then followed the others. Though she was filled with doubt of both their destination and their purpose. Especially given the trust the two seemed to put in things they did not really understand.

Meanwhile, further North

Walter took a deep sip from the tea, it was bitter but most likely good for your health. He had never enjoyed bitter tea but alas, it would have to do. He smiled politely and sat the cup down.
"Thank you." He said and the woman nodded kindly back his direction. She was pouring her own cup now. The two sat in the center of a raggedy tent, the tent had been set up just a few hours ago in the outskirts of the rest of the camp of refugees. They blabbered and shouted outside, proclaiming both doom and glory. News came in hourly of the supposed fate of both King and the town. Walter looked down and noticed a face by the edge of the table where he sat. The little dark haired boy peeked at him, eyes just above the edge of the wooden piece of furniture. He smiled uncomfortably for the child and expected him to stop staring, he didn't. Walter blinked confusedly, unsure what to do. He was released as the mother spoke. Her accent thick and unruly.
"'s a right mess it is. And you tellin' me the poor Walka's up and died?" She asked, unphased by the presence of her son.
"Indeed." Said Walter, and took a new sip from his bitter tea before continuing. "Jonius' death is both a shame, and untimely. I am uncertain how the plan will continue without him..."
"Got ta' be somebody else." Said Anathema, raising a questioning brow. Walter frowned thoughtfully and furrowed his brow.
"Perhaps. Though even if we find them, we may already be out of time..."

"Open the gates! Quickly!" A lone rider, steering two horses immediately dashed into the gate - the looming shadow had only grown darker and the sentries were less than pleased by the looming clouds. They grew darker every day. Henry panted loudly, almost dropping to his knees; he'd been lost for nearly a day but he had finally found his way back to their wayward home. He considered it a miracle in any honesty. Or something. All that stuck in his head was the thought of wine. Now he was here? Time to indulge, he shouted in his head. Though, as he dismounted he felt as if the damnable woman was looming over him, whispering into his ear to tell him to stop being a lazy twit and do as she told him.
Whatever love he bore her was more subjective than anything else or just the fascination he had. It was dumb, really, but before he could even think the General was on-top of him; probably literally, if he got any closer. He grabbed him by the hem of his tunic and hauled him towards him with a very threatening look on his face, born from pain and agony. "Where is she!?" He bellowed, drawing the attention of the hundreds of soldiers that camped within the massive fort. He was in too much fear to even notice how many people had gathered to watch or perhaps noticed the Princess' absence. Was she that much of a beacon to these people?
Henry was dumbfounded and stuttered. "S-S-She sent me away. Said to tell the Master everything. Give him this letter. H-... He told me to do as she said! No matter what!"
"Enough of this malarkey! Go to him then, boy. I will escort you. If you harmed my niece in any-way I will beat you bloody and then string you up." His tone bore more pain than anything threatening which made Henry pity him more than fear, not that he'd dare say it to him; this man was a hard, battle-trained and tested killing machine. He could barely use a sword or his fists. Either way, he was dragged along towards the Command tent were all the anxious officers stood around the command table. Some mahogany monstrosity they carried around everywhere. It was supposed to be the first Order's table or something. He never got it, though. Just buy a new one?

The Master, greyed and wise, rose his head and patted down his whiskers with his fine leather gloves. There was a set over the top of his lip. He was overall a sound man of strategy and wit, there was a reason he had led the Order long before he was even thought of. Forty years, some say. He had no name beyond the one he gave up when he became Grandmaster. A fickle title, but a very honourable one. He had to make the hard choices which just made him even more respectable.
"Henry, my boy. You are alone; this is troubling. Has the Princess paid the ultimate sacrifice to darkness?" The Master's tone dimmed some, remorse filling him.
Henry spoke up quickly, hoping to not let that emotion sit for long. "No! She's alive, I know it. She just... sent me off, y'know. Wanted to make sure you knew, my Lord. Here. She gave me this, for you alone. It was the details of the talks she had with the King. He has agreed to help, but we must attack the Raylian's and purge them from the North." He nodded, thrusting the letter forward which was taken by one of the officers and then passed down solemnly until the master could break Freda's seal and start to pour over the transcribed meeting.
"I see. She spoke with my voice as we agreed. Good. We march in the morn. General, prepare. Everyone else, get the regiments in order. Henry - go with the search party I will organise in the next hour. Lead them to where you came from and go find the source of that... magical explosion we saw a day before. Everyone else, you know what to do. Dismissed." The Grandmaster sat himself back down and rested both her hands on the Throne of the Phoenix, it was almost as ornate as the Golden Throne in Midway - nearly. Henry wondered if Freda would get to sit there one day. Maybe him beside him? He felt stupider just thinking that.

Henry slogged off to go find the latrine and some wine. Gods did he need some wine.

Later...

"This boy knows where to go. Keep him safe and make sure you bring the Princess back to us immediately. I trust she is safe; there is no better warrior amongst us nor one with such prestige. Prestige we are sorely lacking. That and her father would have all our heads for letting her die on her own." He sighed lowly, giving the Knight's a stern gaze which let them know they were to be swift.
The three Knight's echoed out in unison. "Ava'vid'vor akem! For the Phoenix, 'til death." Henry couldn't say the words of a Knight but he sorely wanted too. Maybe it was time to try? Maybe. He was swimming at this point, positively smashed but hid it pretty well as long as he didn't speak. Either way, he jerked in surprise as the Grandmaster slapped his horses behind and set it off to a bolt where the three armoured Knight's that was his entourage dogged his heels and they rode from the Keep in search of the illustrious warrior that had been away for weeks. Banners flew in the wind and pride swelled.

The Order of the Phoenix prepared for a war. The first one in nearly a century.

Chapter 20: The Lady

He landed on his feet but it didn't matter, his balance betrayed him and he toppled over with a heavy thud, landing on something relatively soft. He had been dazzled by something, but now his sight was gradually returning to normal. He stared up at trees, dense enough to block out the sky, but a few gaps through the branches revealed a twilight sky. How long had he been gone, and where exactly was he? Leofric rolled over to his left side and looked around him. A lush forest expanded around him, colourful and tranquil. Silent. Leofric blinked sluggishly to focus his gaze. Was he in the Silent Woods? He had never seen this part of the forest in that case. Something glimmering caught his eye and he turned his head towards it. Roots of some sorts had pierced up through the earth and twisted around themselves into what he could only describe as a pillar. The gnarled top of the pillar was similar to a crown, and in the center of it Leofric could spot a small glowing blue orb. That is what had caught his attention.
Leofric pushed himself up to his feet and leered suspiciously towards the orb. A short distance away from the strange pillar he could see another one, identical in shape with a glowing orb at the top. He counted up to near a dozen pillars after the first two, standing to the left and right of one another in a zig-zag pattern, as if outlining a path.

Briefly, Leofric contemplated if he had died - and if this was the afterlife. He glanced down at himself and spotted his sword by his feet. He crouched down to pick it up. The blade was soaked by crimson red, and a vague pounding in his back back and head made itself known No, he was still very much alive. The last thing he recalled was defending Lowburg's manor against his enemies. It had been a losing fight, but as soon he was about to get overwhelmed something had grabbed his shoulders from behind, and in a burst of light he was gone. He had no idea where he was, or if he even were in the Northlands still. But something had brought him here, and whatever it was it could still be around. Leofric reaffired his grip around the sword and slowly approached the rooted pillars.
It was eerily quiet in the forest. For such a lush place he thought to at least hear some form of chirping birdsong, but all he heard was his own footsteps and the rustling leaves beneath his boots. Leofric gingerly stepped closer to one of the pilars and realised that the orb of light was hovering within its crown, as well as emitting a low humming noise. He frowned somewhat in thought, he had never seen magic like this before. All of his instincts screamed at him to create distance between himself and the pillars, but he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of soothing and benevolence from the blue lights. Leofric extended a hand and to lay upon the pillar, if only to verify that it actually was made of roots, and despite the visual evidence he felt mildly surprised that such was the case. He gave the naturistic construct another eye-over before continuing down the invisible path. Ahead it took a turn, the lights bending around a few large moss-covered rock.

Rounding the rocks, Leofric saw the pillars continue down a slope and slither around in a path through the trees, disappearing off into the rich lush landscape. He exhaled silently and shuffled down the slope, intent on following the lights. They were guiding him somewhere, that was much evident. He turned his gaze upwards again, the sky was rapidly darkening and that darkness was encroaching upon the forest now. It made him feel at unease, but the shimmering blue orbs were made all the more apparent. He adjusted the grip around his sword and pressed on under the guidance of the pillars.
He wasn't sure how long he had been walking until a large expanse revealed itself a distance infront of him, past a cluster of trees. He stepped past them and realised that the expanse was in fact a sizable lake. Leofric leered skywards again and night had fallen long ago. As if strategically placed, the moonlight from above shone down upon the lake, revealing the purest looking water Leofric had ever seen. A burning sensation of thirst made itself known in the back of his throat, and though he had his suspicions about this entire ordeal he slowly approached the lake. Warily Leofric glanced around himself as he edged closer to the shoreline, but as before the forest stood completely silent. He plunged down the sword into the ground and dropped down to a knee, mail and plate rattling in protest. He lowered down a gloved hand to dip down the tips of his digits into the water. The water seemed natural at least, pure and potable.

A white light appeared in his peripheral vision, and in the blink of an eye Leofric had flewn up to his feet again and yanked up the sword from the earth. He stared out over the lake, straight at a source of the light - an enchanting woman with long, bright hair reaching down to her waist, garbed in a delicate dress or robe, Leofric couldn't tell the difference from the distance. She was slowly approaching him, walking upon the very surface of the lake on bare feet. When she neared he could make out her garments, a dress fit for royalty. Simple in design yet decorated with various, unknown patterns. She raised a hand, and Leofric could just barely make out a smile stretched over her features.

"Fear not, King of Men. I am no enemy of yours."

Her voice sung out from seemingly everywhere at once, though Leofric managed to keep his gazed fixated on her. There was something about her - like with the pillars, she radiated goodness and benevolence, regardless of her magical appearance. He lowered his weapon, the tip grazing against the ground. Leofric felt his heart pound in his chest as he spoke up. "Who are you?"

"I am the Lady. You are a guest in my domain.", her voice rung again. "You are safe here."

Leofric glanced to the left and right. Throughout the forest surrounding the lake he could see the same blue orbs shimmering in the dark from before. He concluded that there must be several paths leading around the forest. Wherever it now was. He looked back to the lady. "Why am I here? What do you want from me?"

The bright lady went closer, though Leofric stood his ground. Her aura was benevolent, pure and just. She smiled again.
"Dark days are upon us, King of Men. The world will shatter and bleed, kingdoms will fall to ruin. A tide is coming. But you have the strength to resist it."

Leofric blinked a few times. Dark days? A tide? He narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? What is happening?"

The Lady smiled still, standing upon the surface of the lake, radiating a light that seemingly wasn't entirely blinding. "Darkness is coming for us all, threatening to plunge the world into chaos and ruin. You can help prevent this from happening."

"How?"

From seemingly nowhere, the woman procured a silver chalice which she held out. It was filled with water, presumably from the lake itself, Leofric guessed.

"Drink, King of Men. Restore your energy.", she smiled. Leofric stared at the chalice for a few moments and realised that he was exhausted and dehydrated from the trek through the woods. He took a breath and extended his free hand to take the chalice. He turned it around in his hand, inspecting its embellishment. Delicate patterns of gold engulfed the chalice into a beautiful creation that undoubtedly had not been made by normal men. Leofric huffed another breath before raising the chalice to his lips and draught. True to her words, he immediately felt reinvigorated by the water, and the thirst was as good as gone. Leofric glanced at the chalice questioningly and slowly held it out again. The woman took it back, and then held out her other hand.

"Now give me your sword."

Leofric raised his weapon and turned it around to extend it with the hilt first. The woman lirked her fingers around the grip and hoisted up the sword up from the king's hands. She turned around and walked back towards the center of the lake where she stopped. The chalice she held was gone now, and she grabbed the sword in both hands with the blade facing down. From the shoreline Leofric could hear her chant something in a language he had never heard, and saw then how she plunged down the sword beneath the lake's surface, only to raise it up moments after with the steel raditing a bright, white light. The lady of the lake turned around again and walked back towards the baffled Leofric. The light engulfing the steel gradually lessened, until it was just barely glowing, but it never fully dissipated. Stopping near the king, she extended the weapon back to him.

"Take it, King of Men. You will be my champion in the dark days to come. Use this weapon to defend mankind against the coming darkness, and fight well - in my name."

Leofric grabbed the sword by the grip and was certain that the weapon felt lighter now. He held it up to inspect the shimmering blade while processing the mystical woman's words. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he knew that she was sincere, and a being of tremendous power, yet not in the twisting ways of magic he was used to. He nodded eventually and shifted his eyes back upon the woman.

"In your name."

Walter
Chapter 8: The Congress of Magic
”You're being preposterous.” Choffed Arel the Vast. Titled for both his vast knowledge of the world. As well as the vast width of his being, though this was never shared to him publically of course.
”Preposterous how?!” Rem Lornstone shouted back, he paced the circular room, adressing all of the twelve mages rather than just Arel. ”They will be expecting us, this is known. Why not use what we possess? We have our advantage. Cease it!” A murmur spread across the room as men leaned over to whisper either praise or folly into eachother's ears. No one whispered to Walter, they had understood by now how attempting to invite him into the conversation was futile.
”You'd have us throw everything into an uncertain plan. What proof have you, Rem? Hmm?” Replied Arel, shifting in his too small of a chair, a table stood beside him and platters of food were upon it, as if the man had nothing better to do than emphazise his own stereotype.
”I have faith in our God. I have faith in our limitless power. You and your lackeys would limit us due to cowardice?! That, Arel. Is not how wars are won.” Rem glared up at the man and smiled smugly as the murmur that followed seemed more approving than before. Walter had seen unbound magic before. It had resulted in fire that could melt stone. In wind that could shatter wood. All from one mage, whose ambition was rivaled only by his malice. Walter leaned forward in his seat to look at Rem. His intention was different than what Molaire's had been that day in Monarch's rise, but the result of his magic would no doubt be the same. Destruction. Arel spoke up again and Walter looked up and expected his response.
”There is no telling what effect such a spell would have. The ocean is a fickle mistress and last time such magic was utilized, It was by Death's Hand, to create the host of undead our fore-fathers struggled so to vanquish.” He paused to look around the room and all the elder men gathered nodded in solemn agreement. ”- The risk is not worth it.” He concluded and leaned back in his chair, he grabbed himself a biscuit and took a generous bite from it.
”Midway stories and nothing more!” Complained Rem.
”What say you, Andalus?” Simoron asked to everyone's surprise, it was the first time she had spoken during the lengthy debate and Walter had completely forgotten the witch was here to begin with. ”You lived among them. Do they expect us or not?” Walter looked from the witch who had spoken so brazenly to change the topic and instead he watched the men who had all grown silent. They respected the witch's opinion. Maybe because she had earned her place here not from blood-ties like them, but for rigorous training and raw magical talent, perhaps because she was the only woman in the room. Now they all looked to Walter, expecting the response. He nodded faintly, clearing his throat before speaking.
”No doubt. The Northeners do not forgive transgressions, and we have killed both their people and their king. They may even come at us directly for revenge.” Walter then shrugged and reclined in his seat. Wishing not to speak more than required, he scratched loosely across the bandage which covered his arm. A murmur followed between the men. Rem stared up at Walter from the center of the room. Walter watched Simoron however, the woman wore her hair in a practical bun and unlike most of the men in the circle she wore no robes. But rather preferred a lengthy leather coat. Rem spoke up and gained everyone's eyes again.
”Do you see, brothers? The Northeners will not be forgiving. They have seethed long already against us. Their army outmatches ours. We have but this one choice! Call upon the ocean and we shall drown their land in the flood of Valentia!” Some voices rouse up to match that. Agreeing upon Rem's decision. Walter scanned across the circle of mages. Arel shook his head in disagreement, Rovell and Pamarus, the twin sorcerers had gotten up from their chairs to support Rem. Simoron wore no expression, watching the men from her chair in idle boredom. Walter set his eyes on the fourteenth and final chair in the circle, which stood empty. The Sorcerer-King was as expected, not in attendance and their debate would lead around in circles as it had for two weeks now until the king did arrive and chose for them. Walter tore his gaze off the large chair and looked as Tamarus of Lazarus got up from his chair, the young man was essentially the ruler of the island. But his authority meant little now in times of war.
”If this spell risks the lives of our people, then it is not worth it! We shall continue with the invasion plan as already decided!” The mage may even have been older than Walter by a few years, but he looked a decade younger, trying and failing to gain the attention of the bickering sages. The boy eventually sat back down, the congress had elected to bicker and bicker they would. Walter watched the debates with melancholy, he sighed and shared a glance with Simoron who seemed to share his point of view. At least her eyes spoke of the same emotion. She looked at Walter and then faintly nodded past him, to his left. Walter followed the gesture and looked upon another silent character, they sat in their chair, covered beneath an azure cowl which hung over their face. Walter scrunched his face in thought, what had Simoron wanted to point out with this? The man under the cowl, Walter knew to be Larnicus, the only Spirit-Walker among the council. As expected he had said nothing, even when the debates touched upon his spectrum of the magical realm and people had been glad for his silence. Behind Larnicus a younger man stood, also dressed in an azure robe and carrying two finely carved staves, Walter did not know this one, Walkers were a mystery, most would argue, others would say they held no magical ability at all, that they were only stories people told, who would contrast other legends. Walter looked back to Simoron and she gave him her first smile, it stretched to the side of her face with sly intention. Walter blinked confusedly, Simoron flashed her smile and winked one eye toward him. What she implied, Walter could hardly guess but he doubted it bode well.

Isildra

The sound of silent whispers was rising throughout the hall, along with the horrific tension. Several neatly dressed men and women stood in groups, discussing for themselves. Some of the noblemen and women were standing, others sitting. The hall was indescribably beautiful. Golden and silver paintings dotted the ceiling and the floor alike, eight pillars stood on a line, from the door to a final window by the end of the room. Next to the detailed throne, a middle-aged man stood, observing the nobility, watching their nervous expressions closely. He tapped the pommel of his sheathed sword gently. For some reason, it brought a smile to his face, even in this time. The longsword was of some of the finest metal one could find in the kingdom, carved with ancient words and markings along the blade. The hilt was of a silvery colour, with thin golden lines running around it. The pommel had a fine ruby, held in place by four small metal straps, creating a cross. The man had named the sword Goodswill, and it had been in in his care for a long time. It had been rewarded to him when he had passed the harsh challenges for the role of Protectius Royalis, an ancient Raylian title for the protector of the current reigning royalty, and their family.

The opening of the sizeable doors broke Elias’ pondering. A woman stormed inside with hasty steps, headed straight for the Protectius. Elias stepped towards the queen’s handmaiden, by the name of Lyessa. The two had stepped close, lowering their voices carefully as they spoke.

“They await the Queen. Where is she?” Elias’ hoarse voice demanded, as he looked upon the younger girl.

“Queen Isildra has received yet another letter… Elias, it’s worse than we thought.” She spoke in a saddened voice, looking below the protector’s eyes. Lyessa carefully peaked into them for a brief second.

“What do you mean worse? What’s happening?” Elias replied, grimacing at the stares the two were getting from the worried noblemen and women.

“That’s the matter that worries us. We… do not know.” She gulped, before gesturing the almost frozen Protectius along with her. Elias followed her out of the room, and the doors were shut behind them.

The two barely spoke as they walked down the halls with quick steps. When they finally made it to the Queen’s room, Lyessa opened the door and motioned for Elias to enter. The door was shut behind him, and he cleared his throat to signal his arrival. Queen Isildra was a woman of thirty-six winters, dressed in one of her many formal robes. She had her blonde hair tied up in an ever so fancy hairstyle. The woman turned around, allowing for her nervous expression to be revealed. In her hands she held a letter, one she extended towards Elias Davenport. With no words, he took the letter and immediately began to read. His eyes scanned the content, as he murmured it for himself.

“Complete chaos. Word of the Northland’s King’s death, and rumours of a slaughter.” Isildra said with a surprisingly calm voice. She crossed her arms, looking to Elias.

“What in the name of all that is Holy, how did this happen? Last we heard the Crown prince was supposed to marry the Valentian princess! We… Pardon my language, were supposed to have our damned peace.” Elias sighed heavily, and Isildra gently gestured to a nearby chair, for him to collapse on, which he did. The Protectius rubbed his forehead, sighing once again.

“You do not need to excuse your language to me, Davenport. I am in as much distress as your, if not more.” Isildra sighed. “My husband was invited to the wedding, as a gesture of kindness by the Northerners. I do not know of his fate yet, though it is most likely he is as harmed as unharmed.” The Queen nodded, turning to the window again, folding her arms. It was clear for Elias to see the misery she was in, and he grimaced to himself.

“My Queen, I hate to bring this up now, but Raylia has a fine relationship with both the North and Valentia. This is – was the most peaceful time we’ve had for long. But both sides may ask for our help, should war break out.” Elias rose back up, straightening his back, and keeping his voice at a respectable tone.

The Queen nodded. “We have the option to declare neutrality in the conflict. But, that will only ruin our relationship with both nations.” She sighed heavily.

“Would you be so kind and do me a favour Elias? Go look for dear Reina. She hasn’t fallen asleep, and regrettably I have to inform the council of our situation. And bring Lyessa in.” Isildra turned around, offering a king smile to Elias. He nodded in acceptance, and bowed down before he left the room.
Lyessa stood carefully by a window, looking out to the night that had fallen down. She did not need words from Elias, but entered the room after he had left.

The Protectius steadily roamed the halls, until he finally reached the princess’ room. He knocked carefully, before hearing the young girl welcoming him in. Reina was about fourteen winters by the time, and was a most curious and smart girl. She stood in her nightgown, smiling only with her lips.
Without allowing Davenport to get a word in, she burst out; “Are we going to war?”

“I am starting to wonder if you’ve dug a whole to your mother’s room.” Elias shook his head at her, grinning slightly. “You have to sleep, young lady.” He motioned towards her bed, to which reply she did not give.

“I know we will have to pick a side. But does it mean I will be married off?” She did not hold back, folding her arms.

Elias blinked at her, furrowing his brows. “Where have you gotten that idea?”

“Lord Chansly told me when we were studying history. It’s what kingdoms do, when they want to tighten their bond.” Reina muttered lowly to herself afterwards. “And I’d like to keep my own bond tightened instead.”

“Do not worry. You will be safe and sound here, until we know what will happen. Now, off with you. You need your sleep.” The man nodded goodbye, leaving the room again.

Elias returned to the halls, where he rested his arms on a bannister, running a hand through his hair.

“Do not force our hand, Prince Valten. We do not need more war, we never did.”

Miriam
Chapter 19: The Lies of a Guide...

"Fire, they say was first released upon the world by its jailor in the hope to cultivate. Its embracing warmth and its serene light spurred life and allowed mankind to rise to immeasurable lengths and unfathomable strength, such was the power of fire - But fire grows, it becomes difficult to contain, in man's greed they feed it to gain more power, and further strength. Fire spreads, uncontrollable and hungry for devastation and ruin. In its wake only ashes and singed rock remain and what had once given life has now become the herald of destruction. Does this mean that it is in fire's fate to destroy? That the flames, heart of all life, are evil? What truth is there in muddled questions of an age long lost since before even memory? Perhaps there is only one question that is important to wanderers lacking direction in this world of enclosing dark..."

- Unknown Author

A foot dropped into the sinking ground and Freda yelped in surprise before raising her foot out of it. She found some ground and regained balanced upon it, even with Eliana upon her back again and the land becoming more and more similar to a bucket of sludge, sprinkled with tufts of water the knight pressed on as hardly as she had before.
"Miriam." She said, looking forward to where the Scavenger stood. "Please tell me, you can see the fort..." Perhaps tiring of carrying the Walker whose descent into possession only became more evident as time went on.
Miriam did not respond, she looked up to where she expected stars to shine, there were none. The only light that remained now was the dim light of the moon where it shone behind a barrier of thick, dark clouds. She sighed and set her heavy eyes down on the path ahead of them. The outline of the fort had been visible before, maybe a few miles off. Though she could see it no longer. She stared into the darkness that was ahead, aware that Freda was speaking with her, most likely asking for assistance. Miriam didn't listen, there was another voice that had more value now.
"You are doing good." It told her. "Take them into the water.. Into my hold." Miriam had attempted to ignore it earlier, but found it impossible now. She was never sure if it told her the truth, or if it lied. She could not rely on her senses, nor her own mind. Then what was she good for? The huntress sighed loudly and rubbed a dirt-caked hand over her settling eyes. She was getting tired, sleepy rather than weary.
"Miriam!" Freda beckoned. And the huntress shook her head briskly. Leia scampered back to assist Freda, though mostly hovered nearby, panting in support. "Please tell me.. You know where we're going."
"We... Need to go there." Miriam said, she narrowed her eyes and stared through the dark. The moon, she thought. It rose and it shines where it ought to be, but was it truly the light of the moon she saw? Or was it an illusion of her addled mind. She could not trust it, but this was the direction she had chosen, and she pointed forward reluctantly.
"You had better be right." Said Freda and walked past the huntress, Eliana hung meekly over the Knight's back, her hushed murmuring was incomprehensible but her state was clear as day, she would not last long and the environment had only worsened her illness. "If we do not reach the healer soon, I-.." Freda paused for a moment and looked down into the mossy ground. Miriam looked past her, she looked to their left where the bog had sunk into a natural body of water. Dark and chilling the water reflected only the clouds above and were just as black. Miriam saw it ripple, something moved within.
"Let's keep going." Said Freda at last. Perhaps she had said something else before that but it was the part that Miriam heard.
"...Right." The Huntress responded and left whatever had been in the water unmentioned.

They walked. Leia had learned to travel only on the grass and therefore walked first with no larger issue, the dog seemed uncertain and nervous, whimpering the occasional sound back towards Miriam. Whom only sauntered numbly after the dog, hoping that her friend would know the way as she could no longer see it herself. Freda came behind, she panted lightly and often let out a grunt or groan while adjusting the way the Walker hung over her. Eliana had grown pale and the black marks upon her limbs seemed to stand out even in this darkness. Miriam remembered it as the shadow that had surrounded her in Lowburg, and again outside of it. She remembered it had been comforting, though terrifying and she wondered if Eliana was perhaps in the same realm she had been then. Maybe she would know, once it happened to her... The voice ensured her that it would. And she did not doubt it spoke the truth now.

They walked. Miriam felt her legs grow heavy, she shut her eyes and could not tell the darkness of her eyelids from the one that surrounded them. Only by looking down could one see the path they followed. Uncertain if it even led where they hoped.

They walked. In silence and in desperation, Freda had most likely understood by now that Miriam knew not where to go, but what point was there in arguing and bickering now? There was only one option, to continue walking... Eliana murmured to herself, clinging tightly to the knight carrying her as if she was her final anchor to this world and that if she were to release it, she would plummet into the water, and be swallowed by it.

They walked. And Miriam came to realize the futility of it. Life's only purpose, its only end that all men and women and beast of the world share is to die. Why walk, if the only destination there is to reach is death? Why not sit down, shut your eyes and dream pleasantly. Dreams are so much more beautiful than the world, such a cruel, unfair world...

They flew. Miriam slowly opened her heavy eyes, her head bobbed back and forth in pace with whatever was carrying her, hooves thumped briskly against the path of gravel beneath them, both behind her and to her sides there were more horses, more riders. She let herself sink back and she felt someone behind her, an arm clutched onto her and held her closely so that she would not fall off. Miriam fluttered her eyes and imagined it all to be a dream, closeby she heard a familiar bark. Her head fell to the side and she saw a banner in the wind, it flew next to her. A radiant outline that sprung out from the darkness around. The bird held a flaming sword in its talons, screeching as if challenging any to face it, if they dared. Miriam let her head drop back against the man who held her and she shut her eyes again and darkness again took over her mind and her vision.
"Hello." She thought. "My old friend."

"One question... What's worth living for?"

A thud and crunch came from his boots, colliding down and with the ground. His armour rattled madly in protest to the movement but he was un-phased. From the frozen horse he pulled his sword from the scabbard that lay on the saddle of the frozen steed. He adjusted his crown and cackled, those that had come to stop him were all Black. A laugh filled his primeval throat, echoing out into an icy chill. The sword was swung then flung over a shoulder. "I remember you. Faces are new, but there is no mistaking it. You are the predecessors of my demise. My banisher and conquerors. This time... you will all die." He rolled his shoulders and the ten men that stood their ground.

The Rider in Red raised his gauntlet into the air, it crackled with energy that set every man there on edge. From it rippled open a tear in the fabric of reality. He threw like a glob out behind him with a roar. He readied his blade and charged. Reinforcements would come. His sword swung far, striking one Grave Guardian's shield, battering it and bending it. He was alive but barely. The next man he grabbed at with his spare hand, ripping his helmet from his head to grab his face. He would be his shield, he concluded with a wide grin. He flung the man to the side with some real struggle, yet the weight of his armour tore the head from the body. It was nigh shear luck, the Rider in Red was no taller than any ordinary man and held the same disposition and strength. Yet, the time asleep had made him forget his true power. The Red Rider roared in malicious laughter, taking several blows to his chest in that time which forced him to recoil - these were no ordinary blades and he surely felt it. A swing of the skull-encrusted blade was more than enough sway off any more attacks as the Knight's were defenders, not aggressors.

The Riders of the Damned began to ripple through the portal, dressed in armour made of steel-bones and face-guards of skulls of the lost. The energy started to spill out, turning the land around them into perpetual winter and darkened the skies. The ground froze and ruptured into void as the riders began to march off towards the city and keep itself. The hooded figures of the damned had already began to work their dastardly magic over the fields and pits of old. The dead would rise. Not just the dead of men, oh no. The King of the Death's Hand needed a mount worthy of his new crown.
"Raise it! Bring it to me!" Clarity filled the King and he charged again. He barrelled through the remaining Grave Guard and swung, striking another shield and dislodging another opponent from his defence, yet there would be no death from his blade yet.

A great battle raged on outside the walls of Monarch's Rise, as it had been come to be known. These Northmen were nothing but impudent fools to think they could seize his castle of old; it was time to reclaim his birthright. Ten-fold devout cultists perished for each Knight's of the Grave. The riders that joined the fray on their frozen steeds were being cut down with ease, the Black Guardians were no force of fools. A crisp, known voice echoed out from behind him, giving the Grave Knight's the chance to pull back from the crowned Knight.

"My Liege! We've broken through the walls! There resistance crumbles!" A Rider dismounted swiftly off his horse and knelt before him.

".. Grm. Good. Bring me their leader - I will require his services. I need King's blood. Find the Wizard! He was here. I can sense it." As he turned to fight the remaining Knight's he saw them flee off to secure the flanks, they would defend their dead until the very end.
There was no more time to waste and he marched on, his boots took off onto the hallowed ground of the Void and led him off into the city's gates, which were smashed and splintered all over the small mote that sat around the curtain walls -he- brought up in time's past, long, long since past.. The screams and iced over walls were like a ballad, true and pure. As he entered the once Capital of the Northlands. He pushed his way through crowds of screaming dead, through monsters of the void and beasts of darkness to keep searching. The Wizard was the key - the master of it all. His blood would bring about his final fate.

The King of the Hand smashed his way into the Inn, breaking open the door and smashing it off its hinges, though it proved futile. A fine place for another portal, he concluded. The ball of energy generated by his gauntlet shot forth and into the room, sucking the dear life out of the living beings within to fuel the malice filled portal. It writhed and screamed with anguish but it was like music to his ears, to be one with it was pure harmony. Then something hit him, something hard. He was flung forward, through the portal and then out of it again. He spun, smashing through the wall of the wooden Inn and then through another and over into a room. Nothing but the Arcane could do this. Was it the Wizard? He could not sense him, perhaps it was another. A Spirit Walker? As he rose he found the man had teleported to him and held up the glowing staff, to threaten him.
Enid'anar gripped the staff with his gauntlet, freezing it to a solid block of ice in that instant. This did not sway this Mage, however, who threw the King further back through the home. "You will not return! You will go -back-! To darkness with you, King of Red and Black!"

He flew back further, smashing through house aplenty as he seemed to take momentum and go further and further. He felt a solid thud arrive and then his breath leave his gullet. "Agh!" Was all he could say before he ground to a solid halt. The draw-bridge was up by the time he landed on the bridge. The Walker teleported a few feet before him, taking up a slow gait. Enid stood and smiled thinly. He would grace this man a look at his face first.

He reached up for his face-guard and slowly clicked it out of place, sliding it down and off his visage to reveal something that made the Walker gasp, blink and then sigh; expressing more emotions than any man should or could at a reveal of such a level.