View Full Version : Moonless Reflection: ~How Do You Know You Are Alive?~
It came as such a surprise. How could I not see this coming at all?
It was right in front of me... staring me down from the otherside of the alley.
Standing... defiant and unwavering. As black as the night which surrounds it.
With a giant scythe in its hand.
and "her" in front of me... in between myself and the dark shadow of the scythe.
Looking at me with those sad eyes.
Please don't look at me like that...
~Ring...
A young boy woke up, startled by the sound of children playing in the new snow nearby a pile of charred bricks and wood. The chilling sheet of white had only fallen last night, but already it began to melt away closer to the remains of what used to be a house despite the children's best efforts at pushing it away and trying to grab enough to make a snowball. Taking a glance about the pitiful landscape, he could only frown at what this town had become.
And it all happened overnight. All it took was one... one bad night.
Nikolai shook his head as if trying to throw the horrible experience out and grudgingly stretched the laziness out before getting to his feet. He had a job to do that night and he didn't want to fall asleep in the middle of it. While the nap was quite relaxing, the young man did not feel well-rested.
Nik didn't want to think of what he would dream when he goes to sleep, either.
The only noise to accompany his boots crunching through an inch of snow on the main path was the sound of kids playing in a field of foot-high snow nearby. Their grown-ups had probably sent them out to play together as they met together to mourn their lost loved ones that night. These youngsters should not be in the room when the greying old men read out the names of their sons. These youngsters would not understand why the women cried and fainted as the names kept on coming, one by one to the solemn rhythm of the elder's voice.
He did not want to be there when they say his brother's name and watch some random girl cry a river at the corner of the room. He did not want to be there when they say his father's name and having to catch his mother's feeble body.
He did not want to be there when they call her name. But then again, maybe she was not even on the list at all.
Stupid grown-ups. They only cared for their own-
-Thump!-
"Ow! Hey, watch where you're-"
The young man rubbed his backside where he had landed in the slush, the dull pain signalling the possibility that he had bruised his butt. He though it was already bad enough to have fallen asleep under a tree and waking up to find himself covered in drift. It took him a while clearing away the freezing bed cover before sleep overtook him once more, only to be awakened a few minutes ago. In short, he was not in a good mood.
Looking up to see who he had bumped into, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
She was a young woman in a long blue jacket, trimmed with white fluffy fur and a shorter skirt of the same design underneath. The boy immediately averted his gaze after making note of the skirt, chastising himself for even daring to look even if he probably would not see a thing. Or so that was what he told himself.
Apparently, both of them were not looking where they were headed and slammed into each other. Getting up from the slushy path and brushing himself off (even though he felt wet all over the backside of his workpants), he offered a hand to the young lady who tried to pick herself back up while holding a leather case in one hand and a furry black tube hat in the other.
"Hey, you alright?"
He offered his hand once more as the young blonde-hair girl put on the furry tube hat that had fallen off in the collision. The girl gave him a curious look, her vivid blue eyes almost boring through his head just with a stare. A light breeze picked up and swat the man in the face, biting into his skin just moments before the young lady took his hand.
"Thank you."
She replied with a short phrase, offering a smile of apology in place of a long verbal one. She looked around, patting herself and checking her attache case briefly before taking a bow.
"I apologize for running into you like that. How clumsy of me."
She let out a giggle, causing the young man to become conscious of his actions just moments earlier. He had lost his temper and almost shouted at the girl, then had a flash of thought involving his eyes and her skirt. The young man could not think of what to say, only returning the late apology with a shrug and rubbing his hair in awkward silence.
"Uhh... well, I'm sorry about that, too."
What a pervert I am, he thought to himself and looked around. Lucky for him, almost everyone in town had gone to the meeting hall and leaving the kids to play outside with a couple of older girls looking after them. The supposed guardians were nowhere in sight, however, leaving the children unattended.
Maybe I should go inside...
"Um, pardon me. Can you help me?"
Nikolai gasped and turned back to look at the golden hair stranger, their eyes meeting just as another wave of snowy wind swept in. He swore it was so quiet he could hear the sound of branches, laden with snow, straining against the gust and a random loose window bouncing against an abandoned home.
"I'm not from around here and I think I'm a bit lost. May you tell me what town is this I am in?"
"Um, sure." The young man looked away, trying to remember what the name of the town was. Normally, it would roll from his tongue as if it was a natural thing to do. Now he was struggling to even get it on his mind.
"Oh, uh, it's... Dresdovo."
...Why did it take me so long to remember?
~Ring...
Frowning at himself, he suddenly remembered about the job he was to do that night.
...I'd better go...
"Umm, if you need something, you can talk to one of the girls over in that field."
He pointed towards the group of children playing in the field of snow.
"I have to get going now. Have a nice day."
The young man nodded in apology before rushing towards the meeting hall. A few steps from the hall's doors, the young man turned and headed into an alley nearby.
"Thank you, Nik." The traveler smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face and looked over to the burnt remnants of a house.
Shaking her head, she casually stepped around the tree Nik had been sleeping under and laid down the attache case, pulling out two marionettes from within.
She watched as the children gathered around her, two older girls joining in if only to keep watch some of the more unruly ones, as she began her act.
"Good day, everyone. I have a question I would like to ask you. Have you ever heard of the story The Three Puppets at the Carnival before?"
Dusk. The border between Day and Night slowly shifts towards darkness.
The glowing sun becomes none, the speckled starts replacing the sky's lights with their own.
How could they match the power of the Great Sphere with their own futile attempts? Do they not know their distant shining will never give light to the World better than that of the Sun?
But still... They try. Try as they might.
Perhaps... We are the same...
~Ring...
"...Hey, did you hear that?"
Natalya glanced nervously over her shoulder as the expedition party was resting for the night at a clearing within the woods, several miles east of Knife's Edge. Ever since they left for the safety of the city area, the young scout was getting creepy chills running down her back ever so often it was starting to freak her out. Despite the glowing campfire helping to dispel the darkness from their tiny camp, the dancing shadows beyond the treeline - and that chiming in her ears - did nothing to calm her down.
The lass fidgeted nervously as she sat on a fallen log, warmed by the campfire against the biting chill of the Salvic spring. Snow turned the ground damp and cold, revealing the dirt underneath where grass had yet to grow back from the long winter slumber.
"Probably just some wild animal, girl. Don't be so jumpy."
A grizzled old soldier responded as he sat roasting meat over the fire, one eye always darting from tree to tree as if actively searching for any movement that seemed out of place. A nasty scar ran across one cheek and ended just short of his ear, obscured by the thick beard and flowing locks of grey that hid most of his eyes.
Natalya turned her attention back to the campfire and tried to forget about the odd sound. Reminding herself that they had a mission to complete ahead of them, the Salvaran girl decided she need to focus on the task at hand and forget anything else unimportant to their mission.
...Say, what was their mission again?
"...Umm, Sergeant Michelev." Natalya sheepishly spoke up, then forced her mouth shut just as she realized the Sarge was just about to take a bite of the meat he was cooking. When the man shot her a curious glance, the scout merely shook her head in embarassment and remained silent.
How could she ask her superior what the mission was about? She had already read the briefing earlier that week. She should remember what they were after.
"...I'm going to go check the area and relieve Sandoval."
She waited patiently, a finger prying pieces of rotting bark loose from its aging tree. The campfire flickered momentarily as a light breeze swept by, daring to tickle the nape of her neck despite being hidden under a thick collar of grey wolf's fur.
"...Permission granted." The veteran announced, taking a bite into the juicy flesh of a fresh kill.
Natalya did not waste her time and immediately excused herself, walking away from the comfort of an open fire to brave the numbing cold of the Salvic wildernes. It took her only a few seconds to come across the other member of her team, standing guard atop a small rocky ledge overlooking the large open land to the south.
"Sarge says you're relieved of your post for the night, Captain Sandoval."
The captain turned his gaze away from the scenery to catch the young scout's eyes, his fierce blue orbs almost threatening to delve into her mind for suspicion. However, he smiled and ran a hand through his radiant golden hair as he stepped off the rocky throne.
"Well, I suppose a good night's rest does sound fine. Thank you for taking my post, my dear Natasha."
The girl frowned in distaste, wishing to land a punch on that pretty boy's face for calling her by that name. But before she had time to pull out her fist, the captain was already gone - disappeared into the shadows and most probably halfway to the campsite by now.
Finally left alone to herself, the Salvaran scout let out a relieved sigh and looked towards the great open plain below. The faint glow of a village - or perhaps a small town - lied several miles beyond their location. She could not remember its name, but she knew something of great worth lied within its walls.
Something the Royalists of Salvar would love to get their hands on for this civil war.
O, twinkle twinlking little stars.
How I wonder what you are?
In the sky so far away,
Watching us o'er night and day.
Where'd you come from, where'd you go?
Why you shine quite brightly so?
Guide us to what future holds,
So we may live til life unfolds...
It was a short, sad poem Nik had once heard from his grandmother before she passed away many years ago and he wondered still to this day what the message behind it meant. Perhaps it was a prayer to the gods, to keep watch over them in this life.
Well, whatever it meant, the young boy could certainly use the reassurance.
"Alright, men. Fall in. We got work to do."
A loud, commanding voice rocked the tiny meeting room, in truth a small barn at the edge of town that once belonged to a wealthy farmer who died several months ago. Leaving behind a bereaved family and two young girls, the Lady of the House gave the mayor permission to use her husband's barn for their meeting - especially if it meant that they will be using it to defend their town.
Taking a seat on a stack of hay, the young man leaned forward to catch the Head Watchman's words.
"As you know, ever since the civil war began our town has been attacked day after day by both the Royalists and the Church. Why they intend to fight us, I still don't have a damn clue. None of them spoke a word, even after we interrogated them. So we only one thing - they are not our friends."
A hushed murmur followed in the wake of the head watchman's words, many of the new recruits could not believe they had no ally in this time of trouble. But Nik had already accepted the sad reality of this mindless war. No one was to be trusted except their own.
"The last time they attacked, we lost several brave men and women to the enemy. Therefore, I am now here to look for recruits who would be willing to work as one of our watchmen, defenders of this town until the day those two idiots stop fighting us and leave us be. So, any takers?"
A defender of the town. The job intrigued Nik the first time a friend of his who was with the watchmen had told him. Not only did they would not have to worry about paying for food, but they would also get extra rations to take home as well. When there was no work to be done, food became scarce. The promise of extra food for his family was just too enticing not to take it.
Perhaps... this was what his brother had thought of when he joined the Watchmen.
~Ring...
"So, you've decided to join the watchmen?"
Nik opened his eyes, squeezing drowsiness from his mind as he slowly propped himself up from the trunk of the old apple tree he was sleeping under the day before. Finally rubbing sleep from his eyes, he saw an almost angelic face staring back at him with a bright glowing halo shining from her head.
-an angel-?!
The young man let out a startled shriek, not unlike a little girl, before falling flat on his back in the cold white snow. Picking himself up once more, he forcibly gathered his wits before looking back at the accoster to see if he indeed saw an angel just now.
No way! How could there be an-
It took him a second look to realize it was just a familiar face from before.
"I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Nik. I just thought sleeping in the snow would be bad for your health."
The man frowned, but could not help but let out a relieved sigh when he realized it was only the girl he bumped into a few days ago. Today, however, she was not wearing that ridiculous furry hat but merely hanging onto it, her bright blonde hair glowing in the soft morning light. He was no longer surprised why he had thought she looked like and angel - then again, how could he not have noticed the dark blue tone of her usual garb back then?
"Oh, it's you." He muttered, brushing snow from his pants whilst getting up from the ground. "So, how're you enjoying your stay here?"
The blonde-hair girl giggled and put on her black hat, obscuring the golden halo Nik had saw earlier and further confirming him that the girl in front of him was no angel. Just another good-looking traveler who happened to be in a war-ravaged country for no apparent reason.
"I'm having a wonderful stay here, sir. The locals are very nice and everyone seems to be enjoying my show." She let out a feint sigh, smiling all the while. "It's a shame I could not gather enough money to buy supplies for my journey to the next town."
"Oh, so you're a traveler? So what do you do to get money?"
Nik decided it would not be a bad idea to entertain a visitor for the time being, now that he would soon be working with the Watchmen at night. He would no longer have the luxury of walking around during the day, when he would soon be spending the time on sleeping for the work to come. Spending some time with a girl like her should not be too bad, either.
"I'm a puppeteer, sir." She smiled as they took a short stroll down the road towards the market. Mushy snow seeped into the shoveled path, but the rocky soil held firm as the two people headed closer to the town's main center of trade. "I put on puppet shows in exchange for whatever gold pieces I could use to buy food and supplies with. As you can see, traveling is quite taxing when you don't have any money."
He knew well enough. Staying in one place without any money was already hard enough.
"Well, I suppose putting on a show at the market should do some good. Children love a good show." Nik averted his gaze and stared out towards the hill beyond the town's walls, seeking the treelines and the snowy peaks beyond. "Anything to get their minds off this horrible war."
"Pardon?"
The young Desdrovo man shook his head in disdain, wishing he had been more discreet with his words.
"Oh, it's nothing. We're just a little tired with this war between the Royalists and the Church. For some reason, they like to involve us in their little game of power and we've been the ones to suffer since. It's funny, really."
The young puppeteer frowned thoughtfully, holding a hand to her cheek as her mind wandered off upon arriving at the market.
"Well, I can see why your friend Anastasia would be worried about you. You're a very thoughtful and caring person, even in this time of age."
~Ring...
Nik felt like a lightning bolt just struck him dead on the spot. He had heard something he had not heard of in a long while... Something he believed he was not supposed to hear. Something he vowed never to think of again.
"...What did you say?"
The young lady blinked curiously, wondering what Nik was trying to say. She did not reply, but even then the man had already knew what she wanted to say. Giving the girl a glare of disapproval, he immdediately stormed away without even turning back.
"Did I say something wrong?"
A smal black cat leapt down from a nearby crate and stopped beside the puppeteer, looking at the young man's retreat as she flicked her tail in thoughtful contemplation.
"Well, let's just say you never quite know how to keep your mouth shut."
Then the cat looked up at the puppeteer, the small collar bell ringing softly in response.
"I'd really like to know, though... What in the Reaper's name are you doing here, Petra?!"
What's wrong with her?!
Nik barreled down the empty streets, kicking up slush and gravel in his wake with disregard to any bystanders or other pedestrian he encountered. Then again, deep inside of him he knew there was no one he would need to watch out for.
He simply did not care.
How could that traveler had known her? She only arrived, what, a few days ago? There's no way. There's just no way...
With a frustrated growl, Nik pulled at the collars of his leather jacket and kicked a large rock off the road, walking away mumbling to himself as it rolled to a stop at the base of a wooden cross.
~Ring...
"Alright, men. You know the drill."
Sergeant Michelev sat quietly in front of the fire as the team of soldiers gathered close, two of whom had just been relieved of watch just a few minutes prior to the meeting. Natalya wanted to yawn, but training and manners had forced her to clamp her mouth shut and breath the cold evening air through her nose. It felt as if her throat became frozen and her tears instantly became icicles, but the Salvaran mercenary held firm in utter silence as she waited for the party leader to give out commands.
"As you know, we're not here for a picnic. Beyond us is Dresdovo, one of the many towns in Salvar that has refused to cooperate with either us or the Church of Ethereal Sway."
Ah, that was the name. Natalya nodded through half-sleepy eyes, mentally rubbing them from her mind in an effort to not look like the little girl of her group.
"It looks just like any other small fry in this war - lots of people, lots of food and resource, not a tiny bit of diplomacy. The Royalists want their assets - I reckoned the Church wanted the same thing, too. This is war, after all."
The scout girl nodded, knowing he would start out stating the obvious. After all, most of the people gathered here were not even Salvaran - such as Tenier from the Brokenthorn, nicknamed "Tiny" despite his near titanic frame. Not to mention the enormous oak limb he used in place of a club.
Natalya herself grew up in one of the many fiefdoms that littered the northern stretches of snow beyond Knife's Edge. But since the beginning of the war, things were just not the same. That was the only reason she became a mercenary.
"Recently, however, I've got wind that this town isn't like the rest the Royalists and the Church had tried to suppress. So far, no one has been able to bring news back from that place. Therefore, come two days from now..."
~Ring...
"...You are hereby the Watchmen, from this point on."
The strict, callous tone echoed through the ranks of leather helmets and wooden shields. The Head Watchman continued on his speech of death and glory, but the words were lost to Nik's mind as it wandered elsewhere.
He wondered how his mother would react, already after losing her husband and first son to the defense of the town only last week. He was the last man in his house - the only people left after his death would be his mother and five-year-old sister. No one would be there to look after his house should something happen-
No, I shouldn't think like that!
The young fighter shook away his fear, wishing not to think of the inevitable. He was still here... still alive to fight for his family. He would not give in to death so easily.
"Group A, go man the east gates and make sure it's secured. Group B, take the north gates. Group C, the west gates and the lake is under your protection. Group D, take the bell tower. Sound the alarm as soon as you see any trouble and keep the area secure in case we need to fall back there. The rest of you, follow me. Now get a move on it! They'll be coming tonight for sure."
The young defender's column marched out of the center area, which had been the marketplace just earlier that day. What was once a bustling and lively gathering where almost any kinds of food could be bought and sold, under the silver glimmer of the evening moon the place looked as dead as the wilderness outside.
His team arrived at the northern gates and immediately the boy felt he was being pushed to the front row. After much jostling and bumping shoulders against some of the larger soldiers, he was now standing just a hair away from the outermost row of makeshift barricades.
Well... The boy gulped as he thought he saw shadows moving in the night. Sure beats not getting any action inside, I guess.
"Don't worry about that, friend. We'll be alright."
Nik turned his head slightly as a sweet voice sounded in his ear, a voice that would seem almost impossible to hear in the ranks of a soldier.
"New to the front lines, eh? Name's Anastashiya."
To his disbelief, the speaker was indeed a girl. The funny thing was, she was clad from head to toe in the same gears as a regular volunteer like himself got - leather cap, leather cuirass, leather bracers and a chipped long sword. If anything, had she told him she was a boy he would believe it.
"Just call her Anna, kiddo. She won't mind."
Turning to look at the second speaker, Nik could only see a large brown field slapped in the middle of his vision. It took the young man another try to look up before he could see what resembled a hansomely chiseled jawline.
"Oh, shutup, Antoni. You are so not getting any roasted corn for breakfast."
Nik felt kind of odd listening to the two people chatter even as they were in the face of danger. No matter, he decided already that he would live through the night. It would be nice, though, if Anna would be alright as well...
Gong-! Gong-! Gong-!!!
"Here they come, kiddo." Antoni was quick to point out over the harsh cries of the bell above, pointing his sword at a group of fleeting shadows in the distance. Nik could not see clearly, but undoubtly these figures were the enemy.
"Just don't die on us out there, kid. Stay with your back to us and you'll be fine."
Anna gave him a cheeky grin before readying her sword... and charged forward to tackle against the raiders head-on.
Lonesome stars, sleepless nights.
Seek your wings and gather forth.
Tonight we pray, with heats intwined,
When Daylight comes, released from sight.
Together.
"Well, it's not like I can stay in the same place for long. I'm just traveling about like I always do."
Petra smiled happily as she nibbled on a slice of bread, seated upon an old bench facing a beautiful fountain at the center of the town square. She frowned in distaste when she realized the bread had gone col from the fresh snowfall that morning, but continued to take casual bites into the firm golden brown crust. Disregarding the small kitten as she watched the people walk by on their daily pursuits, it was the feline who finally broke the silence.
"Oh, so is that really what's on your mind?"
The black cat hopped down from the bench they had occupied and disappeared into an alley just behind them. Out of sight from the populace of the snow-covered town, twisting shadows weaved back and forth into itself before a larger form finally emerged.
Then again, if one were to compare the form to a human being walking about the Square... the owner of such a form was not all that large.
Petra made no effort to look or even acknowledge any changes in circumstances, even as a stranger clad in a heavy black cloak emerged from the alley and sat down beside her.
"And I thought you were here because you're being a pain in my foot."
Gabrielle crossed her arms in discontent and, finding that her legs could not reach the floor, grudgingly unfolding her arms only to push herself back into the bench. The young girl ran a hand through her hair and eased back against the cold seat with a frown on her face.
"Anyway, I take it that boy doesn't know yet, right?"
Petra paused with a slice of bread in her mouth, but resumed with a nonchalant shrug.
"No, I don't think so. Although he does seem to be quite angry about it."
As the sun crept higher above and the snowy streets gave way to glistening gravelstone below, Petra finished off the final piece of bread before taking a lazy stretch in the warming rays.
"I suppose I should start doing my own job as well. I wouldn't want to be stuck here after your friends take care of business here."
"Keh. It's going to take a while before we're done for this place." Gabrielle muttered, waving a hand about. "At the rate we're going, it'll be next winter before we get everyone out of here."
~Ring...
That morning, the local tavern was filled with roars of victory.
The Watchmen returned from battle after an overwhelmed party of raiders had been dispatched at the northern gates, the remaining bodies of the enemies left piled outside as a warning to any other would-be attackers thinking about overtaking the remote farming town. And out of the battle rose several heroes within the ranks, whom now were given extra attention and fame by the locals who came to hear of the warrior's exploits.
Nik, however, was trying his best not to get caught up in the moment.
Working on the farm, the young man had killed many animals to put food on the table. While he was not a stranger to the sight of blood, he had never killed another human being - or seen anyone killed, for that matter. The image in his head kept replaying over and over of the rushing columns of silver-clad soldiers, barreling through the town's defenses and clashed with the defenders, trading steel for steel.
The youth tried his best not to think of that night and averted his eyes from the drunken revelry of his brothers-in-arms, staring listlessly out the window towards the town square.
I wonder how much longer can we live on like this... Sighing to the unpredictable path of the future, he cradled his mug of weak ale and let his eyes drifted about the bustling square. He was unsure of what to do next - remain with the Watchmen and die, or leave while he could and live the rest of his life on the farm. He would have to live with the fact other people are dying to make sure the town has a future... but could he really live with that...?
His eyes fell upon the traveling puppeteer from earlier just across the Square, putting on a performance to the townspeople outside. He smiled, wishing he could be as carefree as the lady and just travel the world.
Just as he watched the maiden take a bow to the audience, his eyes drifted aimlessly and saw a cloaked figure standing nearby. His eyes widened, as if in recognition.
That's-!
"Nikola~s~"
His train of thought crashed together as something - or someone pressed against him from behind. He could feel warmth spreading across his back, but the man dared not take a glance in fear of sending both of them collapsing onto the ale-soaked floor.
A grin spread across Anna's blushing face as she laid there, reeking of mead and mumbling inaudible melodies in his ears.
"Ni~Kola~ Gemme to a bed..."
Immediately his mind searched for Antoni, hoping he would help carry this maiden warrior to bed. A quick look from the corner of his eyes, however, made him realize the sleeping drunk (buried under a pile of beer stein, no less) would be of no help to him.
Where's a muscle when you need him... For heaven's sake...
With a heavy sigh, the farmboy-turned-soldier carried the sleeping warrior princess up to her room. In truth, Nik was beyond excited and embarassed at the same time to be so close to a girl so lovely... but he dared not sneak anything indecent even after he managed to lay her down onto the rather unimpressive bunk. Truthfully, no one would know of any incidence if one were to happen... the two of them bring the only ones to occupy the room...
Nik... decided to go outside.
~Ring...
"Phew... Who knew a girl could be so heavy..."
Closing the door behind him, Nik slumped to the floor as the last of his strength left him. While the girl smelled of cheap ale and dried sweat, the young man could not help but think how wonderful she smelled. But while he was reflecting on the intimate events between himself and the only Watchmen member with a figure, another thought flashed into his mind.
The sight of men, armed with pitchforks and crude axes, running in fear with an army of swords and armors chasing after them. Women screaming with horrified children in her arms. Young boys and girls trampled underfoot like chicken...
Gripping his head, Nik wished the memories were only a dream.
If only these Dreams were Dreams, they be
I'd love to see what Reality be, for me
Nights pass by, under this eternal Moonless sky
Yet here, we hear... ever a wolf's lonely cry
Petra watched the slumbering town of Dresdovo quietly from her room at the local inn, feeling the chills of the Salvic night lulling her to sleep. She thought back to that morning, performing one of her usual puppet plays by the fountain and smiled at the thought of all those bright-eyed children watching the eight-inch dolls act as if they were actually alive.
And she had often wondered - and wished - she could just live like one. She would not have to worry about a place to rest, since there's always the attache case to sleep in when not performing. She would not have to worry about food. Whoever heard about a marionette that needs to eat, anyway.
Then again...
"No, I can't possibly live as a puppet." The young girl sighed, resting her head against the wooden frame of the window sill. "Then I'll have to go wherever my owner wants me to and do as I'm told. That's no way to live a life."
"Well, certainly one you don't know how to live by."
A shadow emerged from the corner of the darkened room, the candle light barely penetrating the speaker's hooded face. Petra glanced at the new arrival with a smile and returned to watching the people outside, marked by parading torchlights in the midnight streets.
"Got only eight sent over today. What a pain."
Gabrielle mumbled to no one in particular and dropped her weary body down next to the puppeteer, still clad in her distinguished black cloak in stark contrast to Petra's light linen sleeping gown.
"Eight is a lot."
Gabrielle scoffed at the statement, curling under the heavy layer of wool comforters the other girl was already buried under since nightfall.
"Eight is nothing. Eight is just a handful when there's over three hundred left we need to send over."
"I see. Playing Death must he hard."
Petra made no effort to hide the fact she knew exactly what Gabrielle was, the latter making no effort to hide her nature to the puppeteer either. They had both seen each other more than once before, when Gabrielle was still on her first assignment to pick up the souls of fallen Royalist soldiers in Knife's Edge.
It just so happened that said soul was being consoled about his own death by this very person.
What a weird girl.
"It would be a lot easier to send them all at once than one by one. At least, that'll save us the trouble of secretly contacting them individually and taking them away without the other people knowing. Otherwise... well, you know."
Petra nodded, although she only heard half of what the grumpy Messenger of Death was talking about.
"Well~" The puppeteer yawned, stretching her arms as she prepared herself for the night's comfy bedtime. "...I know they won't be very happy to know that everyone here is dead."
The Messenger frowned, but resolved only to click her tongue in distaste. She knew Petra knew... but still staying in this town full of ghost was just... so like her.
"That's just putting it lightly. If so much as one of them shoots his mouth off about everyone being dead already, this town... hey. Hey. Hey, you! This isn't the time to be sleeping!"
But no matter how much Gabrielle tried to shake the maiden awake, Petra was already deep in slumber, dreaming a dream that only she herself would know.
"Kheh. Fine, be that way."
Gabrielle puffed her cheeks as she looked out the window, the clear cloudless sky speckled with faraway diamonds shone back at her. Off in the distance, the lone song of the wolf echoed in the windless night.
Looking down at the town center, she could see a patrol of Watchmen pass by the fountain the wandering puppeteer had been performing that day. A rippled reflection of the full moon playing teasingly against the star-filled sky.
Morning's last mark; The Day's end nears.
Sky's frozen tears; Slow drifting cries.
Men's last light; Shining in the fight.
Snowfall's last mark; A puddle of mud.
"So... you can't use the Mass Sending option?" Petra sighed as she sat picking at a salad at the inn's dining area. She could still smell some of the spilt mead and ale from the day before, despite the proprietor's best effort in removing the sticky sweet stains with his mop.
"No can do. Apparently, a strange interference is preventing the channeling stream necessary for the ritual to take place." Gabrielle scoffed, leaning back against her chair and dangerously letting it stand on only two legs as she looked out the window. The snow had since melted away overnight, revealing more of the charred building's remains which stood further away in the distance. Her eyes grew sullen as the townfolks busied themselves with the day's usual routine, complete unaware of their demise which had already come to pass.
"It's not like I could do it, anyway..."
Petra looked up from her plate of green lettuce, wondering what the other was whispering about.
"What was that, Gabby?"
"Oh, nothing." The dark-hair girl sighed, watching the last flakes of winter snow drop from the sky.
"Nothing at all..."
~Ring...
"...nope. Don't see a soul in there."
Sandoval reported with a grim sigh, lowering his hand before sliding back down the tall pine tree. Landing quietly at the foot of the tall tree, he later joined up with the other two members of his scout team.
"If there's anyone down there, they're doing a pretty damn good job of hiding."
Natalya groaned as she looked from the one known as "Hawk's Eye" to the small town in the distance, shielding her face from the setting sun as she attempted to make her own guess of the citizen's activities. No luck for her - she could barely see any movement outside of the town to begin with, despite being open fields of deserted farmland.
"So, what now?" She furrowed her brows impatiently. "We have to do something before the week's up. Our clients are getting rather impatient."
Sergeant Michelev remained silent as he surveyed the area as Sandoval and Natalya looked on, the silence broken only by the heavy footfalls of their gigantic member, Tenier.
"We move in on the town before nightfall." The Sergeant quietly replied, shouldering a double-barreled musket. "If those Church mercenaries can't make it in during the night, what makes you think those defenders won't be expecting us to attack at nightfall?"
"I thought they would be expecting us not to strike at nightfall?"
The mercenary girl rolled her eyes, twirling a small dagger in her hands with almost restrained nervousness showing in her twitching fingers. If something did not go as intended, her name would be tarnished.
~Ring...
"And it's not like you're licensed to use Mass Sending, Death in Training."
The two observers immediately turned their attention towards a new arrival, appearing from the shadows as suddenly as a flicker of the candle flames. Before them stood a large, imposing black figure staring from within the depths of its hood. The new arrival slowly walked up to them before taking a seat at the table, remaining hidden within the dark cloak all through the endeavor.
"What do you want, Eclaire."
Gabrielle hid no hostility at the stranger, immediately sliding her chair back on all fours and shooting her and angry glare.
"Nothing out of the usual, Gabrielle." Eclaire's only expression came as a teasing smirk, her eyes remain hidden within the shadows of her hooded garb. "Just a reminder that something big is going to happen this evening. I suggest you pick up your latest assignment at the Hall."
Petra tilted her head at the casual manner of speech, turning to look at Gabrielle's surprisingly confused look. Whatever this "big" thing was, it would probably be some very interesting work for the Messengers.
"Huh~ Why am I always the one that doesn't know anything~"
Sky's undying lights, how much longer shall you remain?
The end draw near, with the day's fast approaching.
Oh, what will become of these dreams we have.
Shall they remain, for the morning to pass?
Tak-tak-tak-tak...
Fleeting footstep echoed in the sunset, a tiny shadow darting through the empty streets with the air of dread urgency upon the winds. Blazing past fruit stalls and the town square's fountain, now resting dormant under the waning sun, the pair of distraught blue eyes flashed all around him and forward.
However, Nik did not have to worry about crashing headfirst into another townfolk as he recklessly blitzed through town. He did not have to worry about paying for expenses when a basket of lettuce spilled onto the streets as he leapt over one, for there was no merchant working at the stalls of the marketplace. There was also no other Watchmen to chase after the young man even as he heedlessly blast open doors after doors, throwing open windows and breaking into the taverns where he had breakfast only yesterday.
How would he need to worry about something so inconsequential when there was simply no one around.
There was no one around... no living person within the town of Dresdovo.
Where- Where is everyone?! His mind raced for answers as his eyes found only the deserted homes and stores. How could this happen-?! I was only asleep for a few hours...!
For the first time in his life, Nikolas geniunely felt lost in his own town. Everything remained the same as it was for many years; the buildings remained unchanged despite years of renovation, of which stores in town sold what items people liked, or even the same old bowl of vegetable soup with imported Fallien spice to add a touch of pepper to the eater's tongue. Everything remained the same... but a town without people was... just not right.
...Tanya-!
Nik immediately recognized a girl walking idly in the empty streets as one of his neighbors, however the girl walked at an odd gait. The Watchman rushed to her side, a stream of relieved consciousness and worried thoughts surging into his mind as a thousand questions careened into each other. However, even as he stopped to ask the girl of her health, she merely walked on by in that odd gait of hers without even stopping to acknowledge Nik's presence.
...what...?
"What's the matter, Tanya! Are you alright?!"
The girl said nothing, a vacant stare telling the older man that no one's home. Frustration rose within and he forcibly grabbed the little girl by her shoulders, shaking her as if she was merely a rag doll suspended in mid air.
"What's wrong with you, Tanya! What's wrong with this whole town! And where is everyone?!"
The girl remained silent, staring forward as if the man's action - and the man himself - did not exist. That was all it took for Nik to lose his strength, callous hands slackened from the girl's scuffled dress and blankly watched her march on forward as if there was nothing going on in the world.
...no... how could this be...
He watched in silence as the girl walked on, in what was apparently aimless wandering. But as he traced her footsteps forward, he found the destination... and several other townfolks also joining in with their equally strange behaviors.
A spark of realization flashed through the young Watchman's head, who hastily picked himself up from the melting snow and rushed headlong to the building where he suspected is the entire source of this dilemma.
-The Church!
~Ring...
A piece of paper appeared between the fingers of the Messenger of Death, her hooded face obscuring the older agent's eyes.
"Because I figured you probably won't be able to make it back here in time should you choose to retrieve the papers at Reaper's Hall yourself," Eclaire let out a smirk of satisfaction as the punitive Messenger snatched the letter of order from her slender fingers. "I took the liberty of bringing it along myself. After all, we're only partners."
"Were partners, La Muerta Machina."
Eclaire let out a slight giggle as the Death trainee invoked her old nickname.
"Why, thank you! I had genuinely thought you had forgotten who I was!"
Gabrielle muttered in distaste as she let the older messenger reminisce on memories of old as she herself read through the pending orders from the Reaper's Hall. As it is the place where all Messengers receive their assignments, an order letter from there meant only that there was work to be done.
"-that's-! You're kidding."
"We have our orders, Gabby, and you have yours." The hooded woman grinned. "Too bad you won't be joining us in the ritual, but I do envy you getting all the special assignments."
Petra watched wordlessly, with a tiny smile across her face, as the cloaked figure rose from her seat. Gabrielle grudgingly folded the order scroll and tucked it into her cloak, which seemed to disappear into the inky darkness matched only by the moonless night.
"Well, let us not waste precious time and return to our duties. Au revoir~"
With an ambiguous smile upon her lips, the agent of Death disappeared into the shadows of the commons room. Leaving behind the two remaining patrons, each quietly finished their small break before heading out the door of a vacated, run-down inn.
-Blast-!
The door burst open in a shower of splinters as Nik barged in, one foot slowly lowering to the floor with wood chips sticking out from the bottom of his boots. What he saw inside made his head spin even worse than when he saw Tanya a few minutes ago.
"What's... going on here..."
The people had gathered inside the church, crammed in the pews shoulder to shoulder and not giving heed to the brash youth's sudden entrance. The church was not all that large, but for some strange reason all the townspeople had managed to fit into this one...
...no, not all the townspeople. Not everyone was here. He could not see his parents- no, mother- seated among the hypnotically still people. He could not see the little boys and girls who were playing in the snowy field.
He did not see her. Anastasia.
...but how could she? Since she's-
"Anna!"
At least, she was here.
"...you're not like the others, are you?"
Anna looked over her shoulders, prompting the other two to turn towards the young man as well. Nik recognized both of them, one being the other Watchmen by the name of Antoni. However, the other person standing at the altar was a startling discovery.
"-Elder?! What's the meaning of this!"
Just above the small hall of worship, Eclaire's scythe waved idly as she watched the small strike force bearing down upon the now-defenseless town.
"My, my. The fun's just about to begun. Ready your incantations, fellow brothers and sisters. Our job comes after this..."
~Ring...
Ugh, there's that freakish ringing in my ears again...
Natalya the mercenary frowned as she charged forward upon her cloud-colored steed, eyes scanning the horizon in front of the group as they rushed down from the hills in a swift attack. Right behind her was the Sergeant and pretty boy Sandoval, each armed with only their most trusted weapons and leaving the rest with the reinforcements at the hill. Tenier, whose enormous size dwarfed even the powers of the mightest steed, was ordered to follow behind them at his own pace. And despite his size, the giant was not very far behind on his makeshift sled.
"We're approaching the outskirt of the village- Hey, what's that?"
The group slowed their horses as they approached the northern gate, the mercenary had spotted piles of black objects littering the landscape. It did not register in her mind, but as soon as she got within fifty yards of one pile she nearly fell off her horse.
"...Whoa. What a mess."
Sandoval grimly remarked upon seeing the dismembered corpses, many wearing what appeared to be well-constructed armors of leather and steel, polished to a brass-like finish and armed with swords, spears and shields.
"...So, this is why none of the Church mercs ever made it back out..."
The Sergeant drew a cross above his chest as the group slowly rode by, each member staring grimly at the fallen soldiers who attempted to run down the town and failed.
But what bothered Natalya was not the sheer carnage that had taken place, nor the numerous piles of bodies scattered all throughout the fields. The markings upon the wounds... They resembled nothing belonging to those of a human being.
"Eyes and ears, everyone." Seargeant Michelev muttered, but everyone heard him clearly. "We're entering the beast's lair."
"You disappoint me, kiddo. And you were a lot better fighter back when you were on the Watchmen line."
Antoni strode casually, holding a sturdy basket-hilt broadsword and pointing it playfully in the young farmboy's direction. Nik, however, was in no mood - or shape - to make a witty retort.
Half-buried under a broken bench, the young man painfully picked himself from the floor with blood seeping down his left arm. His head throbbed with the might of the Salvaran warsteeds and the searing pain of a white branding iron piercing into his right eye. Limping on one good leg and holding his hand against the gash in his arm, where the experienced fencer's blade had sliced the skin to ribbons, Nik advanced upon the opponent with a piece of broken wood as his only weapon.
"YAAAAAAH-!"
He lunged for Antoni, who nimbly stepped to the side and slapped the flat of his broadsword against the boy's head. Nik's head felt as if it had turned into the church's bell and his vision disappeared into a blur of rippling water. Falling face first against the first step of the raised altar floor, a sickening crack rang lonefully with a sharp gasp coming from the fallen warrior.
...Damn you...
Nikolas groaned weakly, unable to even turn his head to listen to the heavy footfall of his unmatched opponent even when the large man stopped next to his head. The rugged leather boots remained next to his face, not even a movement of hostility coming from the owner afterwards as he had expected.
"Now do you see, Nik. You can't possibly win. Not against Antoni."
He did not to look up to know it was Anna who was the speaker, however her voice had grown cold and distant.
"There is still time, Nikolas."
This one, the boy remembered well. It could belong to none other than the town elder who was also there. Why, he did not know.
"Return to your duties as a Watchmen, for the enemy has arrived at our gates. The others are there and fighting... all we need, is one more to show them we do not intend on losing."
Nik refused to believe it. Go out and fight, in a condition like this? He should be, in all accounts, dead and buried by the fight which had occured.
He remembered well that after receiving a cut in the arm by Antoni's flawless strike, the latter finished the fight with a stab through is eye.
"...Why am I not dead..."
Deep inside, he wanted Anna to answer the question for him, because he would rather believe her than anyone else. The feeling inside of him wanted so, but his conscious rebelled against his heart.
He wanted to believe and accept what Anna had to say. But he already knew the answers would not come from her.
"Give thank not to the gods, young child. But to our new lord Xem'Zund."
The elder spoke grimly, stepping to the side as a small green cross glowed dimly on the altar. Anna promptly stepped aside as well, as if being directed by the old man himself.
"...Xem... Zund... what a tasteless name..."
Nik's chuckle was cut short by a resounding crack as the large fencer stomped on his arm, breaking it in half. The young boy wanted to scream with pain, but a horrible realization dawned in his mind when he found there was no pain.
"Next time and it's your throat, kiddo. Oh, don't worry. You won't die, just muted for the rest of your undead life."
...the rest of my undead life...
"Don't tell me... everyone, too...?"
Nik lied still, the only signs of reaction coming from his half-tired eyes staring at the person who reminded him most of his best friend. Even as he hung onto the last threads of life, Anastasia's face lingered in his eyes...
And he knew hers was nothing like the ones belonging to his Anna.
Anastasia's were full of vibrant light. Anna's were those of a simple puppet.
No life. No shine. No meaning.
"Worry about death no longer, young child." The village elder stepped forward, holding the artifact in front of him as he approached the fallen fighter. The Undead Cross glowed as it came nearer to Nik, its gloomy green glow burning into his eyes. "Nor about life as well. For from henceforth, you shall become a servant of Lord Xem'Zund as well as this town. We shall remain here until the day of liberation from these oppressors come_"
Nik heard nothing afterwards, for an earth-shattering crash broke through the walls into the serene battleground. A titanic wooden limb leading through the flying rubble, striking across the old man's head.
"Tenier, you idiot! You almost brought the whole church down on our heads!"
Natalya scrambled frantically through the gaping hole in the brick wall, lobbing blocks of three-inch thick stones at the advancing mob of demonic corpses. Most of her projectiles bounced off the undead bodies upon impact, causing them to stagger haphazardly against one another. A lucky shot hit one clean across the forehead, but the creature kept on shambling forward with only half a head remaining in place.
"Agh-! I've killed many people, but this is why I hate zombies! Unkillable!"
Half-screaming in hysteria and raging panic, the scout girl clambered over the pile of bricks on all fours. The remaining members of the vanguard unit poured into the breached structure, each fending off whatever undead hands that had strayed too close for comfort. The last to escape into the bunker was the ranger Sandoval, beating away at the bony heads with his battered yew longbow.
"Seal the hole, Tiny! Grab those benches over there and cramp that hole shut!"
Sergeant Michelev shouted at the top of his voice as he blasted the heads off an unlucky zombie. The creature staggered momentarily before the others plowed into his back, sending it sprawling on the rocky hill. However, it continued to creep forward as if nothing happened - headless and all.
"Ah, damn it! These things are even worse than the ones in Raiaera!"
Natalya was not paying attention to what her team leader was saying, for her eyes were locked in surprise by the other people within the room. Or rather, the other occupiers.
Two of them had a sword. One was drawn.
A headless priest-like figure holding a strange-looking cross, who slowly rose from the floor.
"...So... You are those who dare intrude on our holy ground..." A disembodied voice rang through the large chamber as Tiny rammed the last bits of furniture into the hole to create their makeshift barricade.
The team jumped with a start, searching for the origin of the voice as they drew their weapons. Natalya already spotted the speaker - an old man's head rolling on the floor. He stared into the mercenary's eyes as if trying to eat her very soul, to which she immediately backpedaled to where the rest of her team stood on guard.
"Antoni... Anna... Kill them all. We will not tolerate invaders!"
The two armed creatures lunged forward from their place by the altar, each bearing down on the mercenary team with frightening ferocity and speed. The Sergeant caught the larger undead creature's blade with his double-barrel rifle just as it came down in a flash of silver arc, the blade biting deep into one of the forged steel gun barrel. The younger female creature jabbed furiously at Natalya as she relentlessly attacked the mercenary's torso, the latter's only defense being the rapid parries of her short sword.
"Dammit, Sandoval! Tiny! We could use a hand or two here!"
The Sergeant shouted over the din of blades, catching Antoni's head with the stock of his rifle. Flying into the wall, the undead swordman recovered his stance and twisted his head back into place with sickening cracks of bones resounding in the chambers. Groaning in disgust, the Sergeant drew his rifle up to eye level and pulled up the hammer.
"Go to Hell."
-BANG-!
"AH-!"
A cry of surprise came from Natalya as she ducked under the strike from her opponent, rolling away just as the remains of the swordsman's head splattered across the ground. Springing onto her feet, she gave the charging fencer a sharp swift kick to the gut which sent the latter stumbling onto her back.
Suddenly, a pair of heavy, grossly-reeking arms grabbed hold of her waist and pressed onto her back. She tried to shake the aggressor off, but it only caused the decapitated village elder to hold on tighter than before.
"Argh- stupid zombie! Let go!"
-Thwack
Shaking free of the ghoul, it also knocked the mercenary's only defense from her hands. Seeing the undead fencer rise from the floor, Natalya knew there were not many choices left. Pulling free the metal cross in the ghoul's hands, she swung it up to catch the attacker's sword. A loud metallic crack erupted as soon as the blade snapped off the top of the cross, intermingled with the gasp of surprise and the undead elder's disembodied cry.
"Nooooo!"
And enormous explosion of magical energy ripped through the cathedral hall, upending empty pews and disrupting the very fabric of space between itself and the surrounding individuals. Natalya stood frozen, in awe as well as silenced terror, as what appeared to be faceless ghosts whipped by her face on the swirling gale-force winds. The undead fencer who had been relentlessly attacking her almost crumbled before her eyes, tiny bits and pieces of lifeless flesh ripped from parched bones and tattered cloth. The headless elder disintegrated as if on queue, disappearing into the unholy wind that threatened to tear the church from its foundations.
Outside of the rumbling structure, the undead townsfolk moaned in unison as their bodies broke into dust, wisp-like strands being drawn from their mouths and flowed swiftly to meet with the revolving dark clouds above.
"On my mark, everyone!" La Morta Machina shouted over the howling winds and screaming spectres, instructing her psychopomp team to follow her lead. "We only have one chance to get this right!"
The Messengers of Death raised their ceremonial arms in unison, their eyes trained upon the leader of their squad. The howling winds of Xem'Zund's spell grew louder and fiercer, ripping bricks and tiles from the church's roof. A dislodged gargoyle flew by the headmaster, who wielded her scythe as if cutting through the very fabric of existence. Glowing magical runes appeared as magic circles lit up under their feet, the head Death began chanting her incantation.
"Φύλακας των ψυχών, Λόρδος των νεκρών! Προσέξτε την πιστή επιθυμία υπαλλήλων σας και μας δώστε τη μετάβαση στη σφαίρα σας!"
The five Messengers of Death twirled their imposing scythes in a synchronized dance, weaving their magic among the aimless souls released from the unholy artifact's control. The magic circles and runes of the Netherworld flashed with intensity, drowning out the immediate vicinity within the realm of impenetrable white light.
~Ring...
...So dark...
A lone voice echoed in the darkness, unseeing eyes wandering about in the abyss.
...I imagined being undead would have been scary... but this isn't so bad...
Nik heaved a sigh when he could not discern any shapes in the impenetrable darkness surrounding him, conceding his defeat to the undeath of his mortal life. Resigning his future to living as a slave of the dead, he tested his limbs to see if they would respond to his will. When they did not move, as hard as he might try, the most he managed to register in his mind was the sound of crumbling stones and slight numbing pricks of a broken bone piercing through his skin.
...Wait, hang on. Aren't I suppose to be dead... or at least, partly dead?
His mind had to be playing tricks on him, for the more he moved his torso (He could actually move his torso - he imagined being an undead slave would yield no response to his force of will) the more noise could be heard. Several voices could be heard beyond the darkness, which slowly gave way to silent beams of light pouring in all around him. He could feel the warmth reaching down into his form, tugging... coercing him to continue struggling. Onwards, little by little, the voices disappeared but the rays of light began to grow brighter. Shaking his entire form (or what was left of it, since he remembered having lost a few limbs during the fight with Antoni) the young farmboy-turned-undead defender was met with a blinding light which painfully burned his eyes.
"...Why, hello there. Are you alright?"
Nik blinked twice, trying to shake the feeling of confusion from his mind. He knew this person before him... but he did not expect to see her again after such an event that went down just now.
"...you're..."
Raindrops, wash away my tears
For I tire of truths which lied.
Winds, sweep away my sorrow
For I tire of dreads for morrow.
Sunlight, burn away my passionate songs
For no longer shall I see the throngs.
Moonlight, hide me in eternal shade
Where a final bed I’ve made.
“…Anastasi…”
Nik squinted as light flooded in from above, the young man immediately trying to block out the burning beams of light as his usual mind dictated. However, he immediately realized his arm – well, both arms – were pinned down by the heavy blocks of stone and mortar scattered all around the room. Slowly, as his eyes finally began to adjust to the sudden shift in lighting, the young man finally rememebered whom he was talking with.
“Are you alright down there?”
The dark blue robes of the puppeteer was barely discernable through the shroud of shadows as she stepped in to shield the blinding light. Golden hair shone brilliant in the dying light of day, unobstructed by the fuzzy black hat she now held in her hands. Nik could not think of much else, though somewhat disappointed, besides the point that he had not completely lost his mind to the undying yet.
“Hmph. I felt better.” He remarked with a chuckle, not even trying to wiggle free from the rubble. “At least I didn’t know I was dead back then. Tell me, what did you see… while you were here in this town…”
There was a long silence where the world seemed to hold its breath, the traveler maiden remaining calmly silent while the dying farmboy waited with silent calmness. Neither spoke, the only noise to break the impenetrable dead air was the jittery complaints from a group of people within the town square.
“I saw a lot of things that you would rather not know.” She finally spoke, a solemn voice of revelation uncharacteristic for a girl her age. Turning away from the buried man, one could barely see a flicker of sorrow casted over her eyes.
The farmboy merely sighed, coming to the realization on his own.
“Thought so. And you still stayed around for the whole ordeal. Why?”
This made the girl turn to face him, a melancholic smile upon her lips.
“I’ve made a promise to a little girl I’ve met. A promise to help lead you on to where she is waiting…”
The words, for some odd reason the young man could not find, struck him silent. A single name flashed through his mind despite his continual denial of its probability.
…Anastasia…
“But you continue to believe she is still alive…”
The golden-hair girl spoke up once more, as if understanding what was going on inside his head. Nik wanted to believe it. That Anastasia, his one and only childhood friend, was still alive and well somewhere in this godforsakened land of snowy Salvar. Somewhere warmer, by the hearth of a loving family and enjoying a gigantic bowl of thick, savory soup. Cuddled under an enormous wool blanket with strong, gentle arms around her shoulders to keep the cold away.
Not like things were in Desdrovo, not since the war. He remembered how the people nearly tore each other apart just for a piece of potato… How Anastasia always had to give hers away to feed the orphaned street children left after the raid. How she huddled alone in a house with no roof, walls charred to cinder and windows nonexistent. How he would visit her with what little rations he could spare. Half a slice of bread, half a piece of unripe apple.
How she merrily accepted them for herself, with that smiling face that could melt the entire winter snow, only to give it away when a little girl came crying of hunger from the edge of town.
How she gave it all away without complaint of her own ill-fate. Without a tiniest plead for pity after losing her entire family to the raids of hungry footmen. After losing her own…
“She’s not here anymore, Nik.” The girl spoke again, drawing the youth back to his reality. “But she cannot go on further until she knows you’re with her as well.”
Perhaps it’s time for me to let to as well…
“Well, it’s no fun to be here anymore, as you would guess.” Nikolas finally replied, heaving a sigh that almost shifted the layers of brick crushing his chest. “So I guess it’s time for me to go.”
“About time.”
What at first he thought was merely the shadow’s trick to his eyes, the impenetrable darkness just behind the golden-hair girl shifted to reveal a girl in black. Her eyes were surprisingly not as lifeless as he imagined a being of her status would have, but the scythe in her hand was still formidable to behold. It did not take long to realize who it was, although still not quite sure if they were one and the same.
“So, were you the one who took Anastasia away?”
Gabrielle shook her head in response, to which the young man merely shrugged.
“Well, it was a guess. But do what you have to, I’m already feeling a little stiff under this mountain of bricks.”
At first the Messenger of Death frowned, having never been ordered by her assignment to usher her on with the ritual. But with Petra giving her an amused nod, Gabrielle decided it was better to get things over with than to bicker with this bossy boy too long.
The scythe began to twirl with the girl’s dextrous swings, forming several magic circles out of thin air around herself and the remaining pieces of young Nikolas. The farmboy could not make out what language chant itself was, its cryptic sound nor meaning, but none of them disturbed him at all. It was as if he was waiting for it to all happen, so he would no longer have to worry about what would remain in the end.
Well, that’s it to this life. The young man sighed with relief, closing his eyes in quiet contemplation. I hope the next one is as good as I hoped.
And explosion of white light engulfed his mind, excluding everything from existence. No more was the town of Desdrovo, the ravaged ruins of the church, nor the buried dead men outside of town. At least, within his mind.
~Ring…
“Rest in peace, young Nikolas.”
Petra smiled to herself at the disappearing form of the undead farmboy. It was such a sad tale, having lost his only friend to the ravages of war and power-hungry. And she knew, regrettably so, that there were many more she had not met along her journey through the country. How she wished to hear their stories, witness their lives and joy while helping to let them move on to better lives.
“Jeez, what a crybaby. You always cry after helping them to cross over.”
Gabrielle hefted the gigantic scythe upon her shoulders as if she was a seasoned warrior chastising a young rookie, though the Messenger of Death was merely as tall as a fourteen-year-old girl. Taking out the assignment scroll, she closed her eyes and chanted quietly before it vaporized into the wind. A trail of faint lights faded into the air before becoming lost to the pristine white snowfall coming down around the two remaining people.
“So, what now? Heading to the Capital?” Gabrielle was the first to break the silence, still retaining her humanoid form. Snowflakes gently touched her shoulders, melting away to nothingness in an instant.
“Perhaps, although I may wander around in case there are more towns like this one.”
The wandering puppeteer’s nonchalant grin was met with a frown of disbelief.
“After all that?! What’re you, crazy?”
“Well, what about you, Gabby?”
The Messenger of Death huffed, taking out another scroll from within the recess of her cloak.
“There’s still one more who’s not convinced he’s dead. I’m stuck dealing with him first before I go back to report my duties in Reaper’s Hall. And don’t call me Gabby, dammit!”
Dawn’s gentle caress,
Wake me from this dreadful sleep
Please show me the light.
I grow tire of moonless nights
Weary so of endless dreams
Search me, lead me on,
Be my eyes lest I may stray
Please show me the light.
“Well, that’s the last of them around this hell hole.”
The sound of a rusty shovel cutting into the frosted soil announced the end of a hasty mass burial, followed closely by the relieved sighs of several tired laborers who immediately felt like there was nothing better than lying there on the snow-covered ground. A tremendous rumble shook the very earth they were seated on when a wooden cross, as crudely as one could call it so, was erected with a healthy dose of manual hammering.
“I still don’t get it why we have to stay around here, though. I mean, there’s nothing here except… dead people.”
Natalya winced as she said those words, casting her sights about the multitude of shallow graves hastily dug by the four survivors of the night with the farm tools they could salvaged from the now-deserted town of Desdrovo. Only hours earlier they had to fight tooth and nail to keep themselves from being eaten alive by hungry ghouls, who apparently were not vulnerable to the characteristic headshots the zombies of old used to have. However, as suddenly as the undead horde had laid siege upon the hapless group of five (one giant man, included), they all seemed to dissolve into vapors of light. Even until now, the vanguard party still could not find an explanation of the event which transpired.
“Well, asides from us, you mean.” The archer hastily remarked, not wanting to be associated with the unbreathing remains. “Phew. That’s the last time I volunteer for advance parties!”
Amidst the plaintive voices stood a solitary figure, watching over the mounds of dirt with a silver cross held within his hand. The old man drew his fingers in the shape of a cross, from his head to his heart and across his chest, before placing the silver pendant back into his ragged shirt.
“At least give some respect to the dead, soldier. Even if they’re the enemy, they’re still humans like us.”
Tenier stood watching quietly as he managed to drive the makeshift cross into the ground as he heard the Sergeant speak, the other two people looking up from their place on the ground as well.
“You’re with the Church, Sarge?” Sandoval was the first to speak, getting to his feet in alarm.
“Was. That was many years ago.” The aged veteran sighed. “Things were a lot different back then. Either way, it’s time to head back to camp. We’ll need to report to HQ about our little… skirmish. We still need to get that artifact analyzed, too.”
Natalya nodded, taking the broken brown cross from a pouch at her waist. The metallic remnant glowed faintly under the late afternoon sun, though the merely touching it caused a tingling chill run down her spine. Resolving to handle it as little as possible, the mercenary shuddered as she tucked it back into the leather bag. However, looking towards the ruined town they were about to leave, her eyes spotted something that seemed out of place.
“Hey, who’s there?!” Natalya called out, instinctively drawing her short blades as the other mercenaries quickly drew theirs.
The figure walked towards them at an uneasy pace, looking around as if unsure of what was going on. Taking a few steps into the sunlight, she quickly stuck out her hands in hasty apology.
“I- I’m sorry! I’m merely a traveling performer passing through the area… My name’s Petrushka Minevski. Can… anyone tell me what happened here?”
~Ring…
“Oh, so you’re a puppeteer? Haven’t seen much of your type around here anymore.”
That night, the five people gathered around a campfire several miles from the desolated town of Desdrovo. With the day quickly giving way to twilight, Sergeant Michelev decided it would be best they get a quick night’s rest before taking the rest of the day to find the nearest inhabited town. Sandoval’s keen eyes spotted on to the northeast within the day’s march, which was the very town the four mercenaries had left before heading off to their assignment. Sharing between them a loaf of bread and a lump of cheese, the weary travelers agreed to turn in for the night. Natalya was to look after the puppeteer, since they were the only two women of the group. Sandoval had volunteered, but was quickly subdued by the deadly glance the female scout gave to him.
“I haven’t seen much of any performers in my many months of traveling, either. I wonder where everyone went?”
Petra smiled as she exchanged stories with the mercenary of the Royalist, who said little but noted everything which moved around their secret little camp. The men agreed to guard in shifts, more out of their own nervous suspicion of each other than the safety of the group. But the latter was a nice bonus, when one was to consider that neither of the three dared think about sleeping for a wink.
“Oh, dear.” Petra suddenly gasped, causing the mercenary girl to jump with a start. “I seem to have dropped a ring.”
“Is it very important? If we wait for daylight, we might be able to find it easier than in the dark.”
The puppeteer shook her head before nervously rising to her feet, scanning the grassy patches for her lost golden ornament.
“I- I’m afraid I have to find it tonight. Or else the animals might take it away. Excuse me!”
Before the scout could offer a hand, the golden hair puppeteer disappeared into the night.
Not long after, glancing over her shoulders to assure herself she was not followed by the Royalist mercenaries, Petra let out a sigh just as a small shadow appeared before her feet.
“Damn girl, I know you have it.”
The angry, distorted voice roared, though only as loud as a whisper of the wind. The shadow rolled upon the grass, closer and closer to the puppeteer as she merely stepped to the side. Her eyes changed from wide-eye innocence to thoughtful leer, a calm visage while she parried eyes with the creature before her.
The object rolled at her once again, this time intent on striking her feet. The maiden nimbly hopped away, leaving the rounded thing to hit against a small tree just behind where she once stood.
“I would like to give it to you, old man, had you not been so rude.”
The ball of shadow rolled away from the tree, wobbling slightly as it came into the moonlit patch, and stared vengefully at the speaker. The Elder’s face was one that not many people were able to forget easily, especially upon becoming twisted with hatred at having his entire army of ghouls destroyed by a rookie’s blunder. While the body had long been disintegrated by the released spirits of the artifact, his head remained intact.
“Give the rest of the Cross to me, young girl. And I will beg Lord Xem’Zund to spare your pathetic soul when he brings justice upon your heads.”
“And I assume you’ve eaten the other remaining piece?”
The disembodied head grinned menacingly, the twisted green lips almost tearing from ear to ear.
“Smart girl. It’s a pity you would not be so witty when faced with our Lord’s full power. Now, give it to me!”
“You mean… this?”
Petra casually withdrew her hand from within her robe, holding the Undead Cross in her hands. Its “head” had been chopped off by the undead fencer, who was now somewhere cold and miserable. The Elder’s eyes lit up almost instantaneously, his head almost hopping up and down like a little dog pleading for his bone.
“If you wish… catch.”
Almost inconsequentially, Petra threw the beheaded brown cross into the air.
Almost on queue, the beheaded town elder leapt into the air to consume the Undead Cross.
SLASH-!
“WHAT?!”
The disembodied shriek of the undead priest echoed in the night as he fell down towards the grassy knoll, split in two from chin to forehead with his precious Undead Cross cut clean through from arm to arm. Two bulging eyes glared at the puppet master, standing with on arm raised in the air with golden rings shining in the milky moonlight. In front of her smiling face, a small puppet in green and black clothes wielding a formidable long sword stroke its blade upwards towards the sky.
“I never said I’d give it to you, old man.” She said with a wink, when another shadow suddenly appeared at her side.
“See you in the deepest level of Hell!”
Gabrielle wasted no time drawing out her incantation, the magic circle encompassing both herself and the remains of the elder still suspended in the air.
“Κύριος του θανάτου, στον οποίο παρακαλώ την αφοσίωση! Φέρτε αυτήν την καταδικασμένη ψυχή στις αίθουσες της κρίσης όπου τα εγκλήματά του θα πληρωθούν!”
At the end of her incantations, the Messenger of Death struck down the disembodied ghoul with her scythe, slicing through the undead elder’s corrupted soul.
An explosion of white light engulfed the undead creature, disintegrating it into fragments of white light. The Undead Cross shuddered, as if shaken by the very fabric of its being, before shattering into a thousand dust-like fragments. As suddenly as it had happened, everything returned to the tranquil night it once had been.
“And that.” Gabrielle managed to speak between labored breaths. “Is the end of that.”
~Ring…
The following morning, everything went on as if nothing had happened. Petra thanked the four mercenaries upon reaching town and disappeared with a little black cat at her heel while the mercenaries headed off to meet their Royalist contact. Much to Natalya’s dismay, the Undead Cross was no more except for a handful of brownish powder in her pouch. And it was much to the dismay of the Sergeant as well, who explicitly instructed the scout girl to safeguard the artifact with her life.
“But- But I kept it with me all night! How could anyone destroy it without me knowing?!”
“Mm, maybe you’ve gained weight? It might be that you rol- Hey!”
The archer barely managed to dodge a flying knuckle as he attempted to finish his sentence. The man hopped away, realizing it was safer to hide behind Tiny the Giant than at the side of a pretty girl.
“Sandoval, you jerk! I did not roll over in my sleep! And I did not gain weight!”
Natalya was close to losing her temper when the Sergeant decided to step in, trying to change the subject into something more constructive.
“Say, Natalya. What was the cross like when you handled it?”
The scout girl blinked away her tears before responding, leaving the thought of revenge for another time.
“It was… rather malleable, I think. I could almost bend it with my fingers. It must have been pretty soft, too, because that ghoul chopped the head clean off with a single swipe of its rapier.”
“And it would explain how it got powderized overnight, too- Ahh!”
“Come back here, jerk! I’m giving you a knuckle sandwich!”
“Tenier, help me!”
Despite the commotion going on around him, the seasoned veteran thought it over very carefully.
“So it wasn’t Adamantine as intel reported… but enchanted Dehlar…? Whoever it was…damn. This is more dangerous than I thought…”
Moonless Reflection: How Do You Know You Are Alive? – fin
Taskmienster
09-16-08, 04:18 PM
JUDGING!
Moonless Reflections: ~How Do You Know You Are Alive~
Characters Involved:
~Petra
STORY (20.5/30)
~ Continuity ~ (6/10)
~The back story of Petra was minimal, at best. You slowly began to explain who and what she was, and why she was there throughout the thread. And in all honesty, I loved the way you did it. But it wasn’t exactly perfect. The background for Petra was a bit missing. How did Petra contact the ghost of the young boy, and where? Where did she come from? Little things like that are helpful ways to not only begin a story (or in your case work it out during the story) but also adds to the Persona category under the Character section of the rubric.
~More to be added about continuity is regarding your NPC and the other NPC like her that showed up towards the end of the story. I really did not get a good feel for who she was, what she was, or where she came from. Towards the end of the thread I got a little more of who and what she was, but was still missing a little bit towards the end. However, developing Gabby was done a little… but who exactly was La Morta Machina? Develop her a little better since she’s part of your story, seemingly a pivotal part of your NPC’s.
~ Setting ~ (6.5/10)
~The setting that you created was good, but hardly used. Every once in a while you used it, like when Nik fell and his pants were wet, or when you commented about the slush on him… and later on when he kicked it as he huffed away. Other than that it was almost the same, every so often mention of the cold or the snow. At the end you used the rubble and ruined building well though, both as a means for Natalya to throw and use as a weapon, and for “Tiny” to use as a barricade. Good use, that’s what the setting you create, is all about.
~ Pacing ~ (8/10)
~The pace of the story felt strange, was hard to follow sometimes. It was difficult to follow why Nik went from anxious to a quick, good fighter. Other than that it was well put together and kept the reader, me, on the edge of my seat. The confusion based on the characters was slowly but surely relieved over time and the pace that you used it at was good. I would suggest that you maybe had one more post or so, pulling a little bit out of post number 11 and making another post based on the fighting…
CHARACTER (22.5/30)
~ Dialogue ~ (7/10)
~At the end of post 3 I was a bit confused who was talking… it sounds funny, but it seems that the cat was talking. Well, if it wasn’t the cat then why did the character scold herself for not knowing why she was there?
~The speech that you used was sooo good. I loved it. Fit the characters, the setting, and the scene. Nik’s speech was well done, Petra’s was almost cute, and the way you spoke with Gabby and her Messenger of Death companion was well done. Nothing really to note other than make sure that who’s talking to who is clearer. You have a lot of dialogue in the beginning that was massively back and forth one sentence chatter. I’d suggest putting in a few points of “she said:… blah blah blah” or she responded, whatever way you feel comfortable pointing out the shift in change every so often.
~ Action~ (7.5/10)
~Spot on, though a little shaky when the mercenaries attacked. Like I said in the pacing section, try and not clutter it up and push it all into one post. Don’t be afraid to spread it out a little more, or be afraid to have condensed posts in order to make the action last a little longer as well as pace it a little better. All in all it was not bad though.
~ Persona ~ (8/10)
~The personalities that you portrayed for each character were really well done. From the way Natalya didn’t like to have some cute name pinned to her by the cocksure captain to the way you played the sweet Petra’s performances for the children. The only thing I’d suggest, and this is just personal thing that others may not take as vital, is that you add more. Give the children a personality; include them in the play with the marionettes. After making the remark about the captain you almost ignored him the rest of the time. Add a little more to Nik about how he was affected by the first fight, the first kills of humans by his hands. Also, about Nik; when you were using him towards the end and explaining about his childhood friend, he was pinned down by boulders. Granted he was undead, you would assume that being undead would be a strange thing you could build on, and his acceptance of it seemed a little too hasty. Too, his acceptance of having the heavy boulders pinning him down was a little off. I think that anyone, no matter dead or not, as long as they’re conscious would be unnerved by the heavy weights keeping them from moving. Even the elder speaking about the Forgotten could have been a little more in-depth. It seems that you simply were trying to push out the posts when it came to NPC personalities, and I doubt that is true in any way.
~As for Petra, her character was displayed well through her speech as well as her actions. She was a sweet girl, sent on a mission by the ghost of a young man. What I would suggest is a deeper continuity, as well as a thicker back story, would add to the character from the beginning instead of the end. The end, when she helped release Nik with Gabby and she was sorry, it was well done and spot on.
WRITING STYLE (22/30)
~ Technique ~ (6.5/10)
~This section is about your use of complex, or even slightly simplistic, forms of use of the English language. Metaphors, similies, all kinds of grammatical styles can be used. I saw a few here and there, but nothing outstanding to note. Of course, you must be careful when dealing with them not to make it too complicated, or too wordy, because it will detract from the pacing and clarity. I don’t really know what to say to help you out with this, other than think about it and try your best to put a little something here and there. It does not have to be something elaborate and detailed, you do not have to have some extended metaphor throughout the entire thread, but it’s good to think about starting with something simplistic and working your way up.
~I believe that the ~Ring… was part of a technique you were using, but in the long run I simply did not understand what it was for. Maybe the bell on the kittens neck? Maybe the bell of the church ringing to signal an incoming assault? Maybe just a way to symbolize the split between posts by means of incorporating the symbolic nature of the ‘toll of death’ or ‘death toll’? I don’t really know if it was one or the other, or a mix of all three, but it was not necessarily bad, just distracting.
~ Mechanics ~ (8/10)
~ col ~ Post 5 missed the d in cold.
~ “Hmph. I felt better.” ~ post 13, should have been “…I’ve felt better.”
~ The golden-hair girl spoke up once more… ~ Post 13, ‘golden-haired girl’
~I think I only saw a single mistake, regarding spelling, other than those that I noted while I was reading. The mechanics section was close to perfect, and I don’t think that missing those few things is anything less than what you would normally expect from a careful, observant writer. Not even authors write without mistakes, that’s why we have editors, hahah.
~ Clarity ~ (7.5/10)
~ The job intrigued Nik the first time a friend of his who was with the watchmen had told him. Not only did they would not have to worry about paying for food, but they would also get extra rations to take home as well
~ The end of the paragraph was alright, seeing as it was a couple more sentences, but that part was hard to read and after looking it over a few times I got what you meant, but it wasn’t very clear. There were a few other points were I had to read and re-read small points, but it was not a common problem in the thread. I would suggest reading over the thread post by post, maybe not all at once but when you have a little free time. Right after you write the piece and post it is not always the best of times to read over the post again, though it always helps at least little. In my experience, after you write a post you tend to re-read the passage and see what you just wrote the way you meant to write it, not necessarily how it is written.
WILD CARD!!! (9/10)
~All in all, good thread, I enjoyed it. I was generally curious as to where it was going and what was going to happen. Despite the first, about 10 out of the 14 post, I was reading and commenting to my girlfriend about how little sense it was making… in the end it all came together very well. I’m impressed and look forward to getting the opportunity to read another thread that you write, write with you, or judge more of your threads. Good Job, and I am sorry for the delay.
TOTAL
(74/100)
GAINS/REWARDS!
Petra gains 950 experience and 230 gold
Witchblade
09-18-08, 09:31 AM
EXP and GP added!
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