The forest of Wilhemspyre A few hours from the capital.

“You’ve got something of mine”, said Annabelle while staring down at the girl in the barrier. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. It was lackluster and empty, like something that should belong to someone else. She opened her hand again. There was no way around it. This was her vessel but it felt strange and alien since she had awoken from her deathlike stupor just mere hours ago. The frail thing on the ground pushed herself up with shaking arms and a body that would not listen.

“It’s you! I’m happy to see you again. I’ve mi...”

With those words, the human girl had reached her limit. Annabelle watched on in silence as she collapsed back onto the ground. Death came quick to humans – and gods as well, she added with a bitter feeling in her throat. But the girl was not dead yet, her chest heaved with some difficulty. Annabelle felt nothing at that. Life or death, it mattered naught to her. Yet why did these memories come flooding in? Memories of days long gone.

With seemingly listless demeanor, the goddess pressed a hand against the barrier. The many shaped letters in the cursed tongue of creation tried their best to hide from mortal eyes. As the symbols fluttered out of her view, she realized this now applied to her as well. This also meant she couldn’t just dispel it out of hand. Shooting another glance at the human, she sat down on the ground. She could be patient. Death would come to this one and with it, the barrier would falter too.

Hours had turned to days. She had spent long waking hours alone with her memories and conflicting impulses. It was a painful experience as she very slowly came to terms that those memories really were her own. The contrast with the lifeless thing she had become was stark. Next to her, the body of the girl had visibly weakened from lack of sustenance. Annabelle once again felt a weird mixture of feelings about this.

From this close, the frantic busywork of her divine spark was obvious. The little thing had changed tremendously. Back when she had gifted the girl part of her essence, it was just something that was meant to bridge the damage but somewhere along the way, it had learned to actually heal. Again she felt the detached lull of her own memories. A shudder ran down her spine that was all too human.

“You look like something the cat dragged in half-eaten”, a faint voice suddenly rang out from behind the barrier. It was followed by a laugh that was more cough than anything else. Annabelle looked over her shoulder. The girl - Tharia, she remembered - looked like a ghost. The skin had a glistening sheen, the eyes were glazed over and sunken in. Even the lips were dry. By now the old blood looked even more revolting than before.

“Thank you for guarding me again”, the barely living woman whispered.

Annabelle didn’t correct her. It took all her concentration to push aside the fuzzy memories of when she had been vulnerable.

“Right, the barrier. I’m sorry Annie. Holy Bethany, I unbind you from your guardian duty”, she spoke and the dome of light quickly faded away. The floating figure of the robed woman bowed deeply and dissipated into a shower of symbols and weirds that crept back onto the candelabra all on their own.

“You came for the spark, didn’t you? It’s alright. It has served me well but now it’s time it returns home. I’ll manage without it”

Tharia moved into an upright position, pulling her lifeless legs after her and then carefully moving them to the side like they were objects. Not saying a word, Annabelle reached her pale hand towards the other woman and then suddenly grabbed her throat. Staring into the confused eyes of her former friend, the goddess beckoned the spark to return. As the flame dislodged itself from within Tharia’s body, the girl groaned in pain. She looked at the goddess with a pleading look and found her uncaring. With eyes as cold as ice, she pulled on the essence but was stopped by something strange.

The flame pushed back. Annabelle was suddenly flooded with intense feelings of revulsion and disdain. The little essence was appalled at what she had become and denied its former owner with all its might. The goddess furrowed her eyebrows and with a bit of concentration, she gathered what little energy she had left to increase the force. Once again the flame crawled upwards through Tharias body. The human girl had started to shiver during all this. But just as the flame was about to breach the lips, it once again sent a wave of hateful emotions her way. The fallen divine realized with quite a bit of confusion that the force she had to send out now also turned on her. Dumbfounded, the goddess let go of Tharia.

“You made it stronger for me”, she said and shot her a beaming smile, “for a moment there I thought you were about to kill me. I’m sorry for not trusting you. Thank you, thank you so much. It even eases the pain now – although I’m bloody hungry. Are you hungry Annie? I’m so happy you’re back. You’re back, aren’t you? When all that happened...”

Annabelle had stopped listening. She simply stared at the woman and was flooded by another emotion. Guilt. It was the most exquisite of pain, one that clawed its way deep into her consciousness. Some part of her denied knowing why she had done that and another part was all too aware: hunger, betrayal, and hatred. Worst of all, she didn’t trust herself either. The hunger still growled for the energy and she found no more trust left to give. Without a word, she suddenly stood up and started to walk away.

“Wait”, Tharia shouted after her, followed by the sounds of various equipment being collected. Quick steps closed in on her and even though she was out of breath, Tharia kept up the pace. The boyish femme looked overburdened by various boxes, pouches, and the weird Otherseer Rifle.

“Where are you going?”

Annabelle didn’t answer.

“It’s the city, isn’t it? It lures and calls broken things. You’ve got business there and it’s probably about why you’re so... different now. Alright, I’ve decided. Let’s go together. Just like the old days. Little mad Tharia and her shining goddess on a jolly adventure”

“No.”

Annabelle hated how easy the frail one read her emotions, even though she did her best to show none of them. Anger mixed into her already confusing thoughts.

“I said no. Stay back”, she exclaimed.

Tharia tilted her head, shrugged her shoulders and then completely ignored the rejection by keeping up with the goddess. Groaning, Annabelle increased her speed but the other woman kept up with her, even though it caused her agony. The fallen deity held up an arm and forced the other woman to slow down.

“Stay here. This is not your fight”

Once again Tharia tilted her head and suddenly showed a huge grin.

“Yep, that’s so you. It’s good to have you back”

Tharia suddenly lunged forward and pulled her into a quick embrace but was quickly pushed away.

“No. I said stop”

“Aye aye”

Annabelle suppressed a groan. Don’t react to her. She’ll go away on her own.

The outskirts of Valarn A handful of hours from the capital.

She didn’t. Hours had passed and the girl was still talking. Tharia knew no mercy. Annabelle had tried to stop listening but found it impossible. She had attempted curt answers but those only spurred her own. Simply listening wasn’t helping either. At some point, she nearly screamed at her to shut up but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Three things in total managed to shut her up.

The first of which was what Tharia henceforth called the divine plunder of the rations box. The sheer amount of food the walking twig had swallowed baffled the divine hours later. Until they had to plan several stops along the way. Part of her realized she could have just left her then and there during those moments of vulnerability but that blasted guilt wouldn’t let her. The second silence came when they had distributed the load amongst them. There was no point in having the girl carry all these things on her own and begrudgingly Annabelle had to admit that most of these things had a point. A point she never had to pay attention to before her fall.

These things were just the bare necessities. A bedroll, some tools like a rope or two knives, rations and water. Some actual flowery soap. Maybe that one wasn’t necessary but being picky about their scent was just one of their quirks and being clean helped with infections, as Tharia made very obvious when they argued about it.

Third and most powerful was the silence once they reached the edge of the forest. Before them sprawled the outskirts of Valarn. In the golden days, the capital had spread from one end of the horizon to the other. The city was absolutely massive and had grown out of control with countless concessions made to keep everyone alive. This many people required a steady influx of nourishment, leading to the entire valley making room for various crops, farms and farmers equipment. Several guard towers were placed in regular intervals, intermixed with a complete collection of minor settlements: Hamlets and villages, divided into several parishes with their own local governance - but all subservient to the greater monster amongst them: Valarn. Massive roads encroached on the fields and connected not just the settlements but the outside world with the capital. Far off to the east flowed the river Wilhelmshine and forked into two directions. One led further south and the other branched away eastwards. This was the lifeblood of the capital, the random accident of nature that had made this place a prime candidate for living untold centuries ago: Water, roads, rivers, a thick forest and large fields to feed most of them.

Even from this far out, one could see the five rings making up the various fortress walls, as the city had to accommodate more and more growth. The two women stood in silence as they gazed upon all this. There was still a certain glow to it, it was once a beautiful place to live. At least it used to be. A foul odor overwhelmed their senses.

“I should not have eaten so much. What is this?!”, exclaimed Tharia and clutched a hand in front of her mouth.

Annabelle sighed inwardly. There was no way around that girl. Somewhere along the way, she had accepted her fate of being tied to the quirky frail thing. But perchance frail was the wrong word. She had kept up with her, despite her condition.

In reverent silence to the great nasal assault, they both kept quiet as they followed the road deeper into the field. A few more hours passed and sunlight beamed down on them. To their left and right, the crops were rotting. Some oddly mushy substance had covered the road in something that glistened and felt like mud but had traces of other unspeakable things mixed in. There was something very wrong with these fields and it wasn’t just their complete and utter state of decay. It was quiet. An oppressive silence hung over them. It wasn’t a perfect silence like with the Whiskerhushs but an odd sensation regardless.

“There’s no wind”, Tharia suddenly commented. Annabelle didn’t realize the importance of wind in this situation until it dawned on her: She was right. Not a single gust touched her skin but more importantly, the plants were swaying and dancing as if thrown about by a minor storm. Tharia brushed short hair out of her face. Given how short those were, to begin with, it was an obvious nervous gesture.

“This ain’t right”

No, it was not. She took a look over her shoulder and grumbled as the rucksack hindered her movement. Exerting a bit more effort, she looked back at the forest that was a few hours away now. Tharia tapped her on the shoulder and then pointed towards the outline of some buildings closer to the city.

“There’s one of those hamlets. Let’s go and ask them. They probably know more about this. I wonder how they’ll welcome us. I mean, there used to be a lot of travelers back before the fall but now? Not a lot of people come here. Not anymore”

Well, at least Tharia was back to her normal self by babbling on. Annabelle finally pulled the scythe out and extended both blades and handle from their stowing position. Using the arched end of the implement as a stick, she parted the crops next to the road. An even more acrid smell suddenly lingered in the air. Underneath the crops was a layer of glistening rotten flesh. Plants had dug their roots into it like thousands of parasites gnawing away at a humongous carcass. Something red and slimy pulsated within the roots and disappeared into the plants.

“Is that a human bone?” Tharia commented and pointed at something white sticking out of the mass. Annabelle couldn’t answer as a sudden shock ran through the ground. The flesh started to stretch and shiver. An unearthly groan echoed all around them, followed by a deep and growling voice suddenly humming a merry old farmer melody with the echo of an entire landscape. No matter how far the two women tried to see, the fields swayed in accordance with those macabre sounds.

“What the blazes?”

That wasn’t Tharia speaking. That was actually her own mouth finally talking. They had to move. Now. Annabelle stowed her scythe by pulling in the blade and handle again. She then suddenly grabbed Tharia from behind and simply swept her off her feet. The human girl started to protest, in fact, she never actually stopped protesting but Annabelle simply ignored all of it. She quickly fell into a quick pace and as the hills started to reach the merry refrain – just without singing, she accelerated into a mad dash. The girl on her arms slowed her down but there was no way she’d be able to keep up otherwise. These fields weren’t just wrong somehow, they were dangerous.

Sudden smacking and popping noises agreed with that perception. Strange figures rose from the rotting fields of flesh and wheat where the two women had been just a few breaths earlier. They looked like everything at once. Odd shapes, sometimes made out of earth or meat, all connected to the ground via pulsating roots. Some wielded weapons without understanding, as proven by one of the fleshbeasts that had gotten close to the wide road. It took aim with a crossbow but then just threw the weapon instead. Annabelle dodged it easily but was nearly impaled by the bolt that cut loose upon impact. More and more of these creatures encroached upon the road but stopped just shy from crossing it. They were slow and lagged behind but with a quick look back, Annabelle saw a legion of flesh things lumber after them but never once touching the road.

Yet all too soon the road was framed by nightmarish fleshbeasts standing just to the edge of it. Pulsating roots touched the stone and shied away every time. The things wielded various objects with which they tried to catch Annabelle and her wildly babbling cargo. With confusion, the former goddess suddenly realized that her body ached all over. The heart was thumping violently and her breath had gotten ragged. Each step forwards burned with the power of a sun. Being human sucked. She was exhausted and at her limit, but there was no way she could stop now. Tharia glanced up at her and let out a sudden yelp of pain. At the same time, Annabelle felt the presence of the divine flame.

A second later, Annabelle’s body washed over with a strange sensation. The pain in her legs subsided and her pulse slowed down. Even breathing became easier again. Confused, she looked at Tharia and noticed the human girl resting a faintly glowing hand against Annabelle’s chest. The image of a tiny flame danced across the fingers.

“Thank you”, she said and only received a quiet nod from her human package. She pushed on and nearly stumbled when a pitchfork hit her square in her back. Just like before, the fleshbeast had no idea what it was doing and luckily had thrown it with the blunt end first. But the things were gaining on them just as the two closed in on the village. The houses had become more clearly visible, they were buildings of thick and sturdy stone but still a few minutes away. More than a few minutes with the path winding in nonsensical patterns. Above all that, the hills hummed and murmured with that merry song. It was unnerving.

“Tree!”, Tharia suddenly whispered with a hoarse voice.

Tree? What bloody tree? Oh, what the abyss? She came to a sudden stop and jumped backward as a massive trunk crashed into the road. Leaves rustled in protest and pieces of stone came flying. Almost instantly, some of the Fleshbeasts took root in the ground underneath. The path was blocked by lumbering meat-creatures. Annabelle took another look back and saw more of them closing in.

“Let me”, Tharia spoke with a hoarse voice, “Just be ready to bolt”

The healing suddenly stopped and with that, all exhaustion came crushing back on Annabelle. A careful look towards the frail girl though set her mind straight. What she felt was nothing in comparison. Shivering, Tharia had reached for the rifle. Unsteady hands loaded the single shot weapon and then took aim. The thundering crash of the shot pushed them back a few steps but it had a marvelous effect on its target: A cloud of viscera and a writhing mass collapsing in on itself.

“Good enough”

She once again started running. With the dead carcass-thing out of the way, she quickly scaled the trunk and then jumped over it. Tharia led out a yelp as they landed on the ground again but instead of healing herself, she once again focussed the flame on Annabelle. And like before, the exhaustion washed away in a feeling that was addicting.

They were getting oh so close to the tiny settlement. Just a few more minutes at full pace! They could do it. It was a faint hope that there might be some form of shelter – but it was also the only hope.

Annabelle had pushed herself to the brink. Each step was once again liquid pain. Tharia had no more to give and just barely clung to her. The strangely joyous melody of the farmer song got on her nerves as well. Step by step she continued with her mind working itself into a feverish pitch.

If she just dropped the girl, escaping this mess wouldn’t be a problem. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Worse still, she felt guilty for having even thought it. They could also try a last stand but given the sheer enormity of the entire crop having turned into a living beast, that too was doomed to fail. Soon her running turned into a brisk walk quickly followed by a slow jog.

The close by appearance of a house rising above the wall of crops taunted her. These were good houses made out of stone. Judging by how the fleshbeasts seemingly needed ground to take root, this was their best bet. But instead of leading towards the house, the road had taken a turn pointing away from it. She finally came to a stop, wheezing, coughing with thick sweat on her pale skin. She poked the half-asleep woman and then gently set her down.

“You will need to walk”, she said.

“Uh huh”, the human girl said in an exhausted stupor. It was obvious she was barely holding together and simply had no more energy to even notice the state she was in. Leave her here, part of her mind whispered. Look at it. It can barely stand. Weak. Annabelle pushed all these thoughts aside. The one that was weak was herself. Annabelle bit her lips. Why did she even care what happened to her? The fallen divinity shook her head to drive away any distraction. She then once more readied the scythe and fixed her weary stare on the crops in front of her. The walking husks hadn’t yet caught up but were quickly gaining on her and already she could see the flesh underneath the plants shudder in an attempt to create more of these things. The cursed song echoing all around them made sure of that. She suddenly straightened her shoulders.

“Let’s sing then. A merry jig of song, dance, joy and”, Annabelle pursed her lips and enunciated the last word letter for letter “H.a.r.v.e.s.t.”

A mad grin crawled on her face. This day, the reaper had come for a bunch of uppity crops. If gods, humans, and animals could die, so too could confused flora. Swinging into the crops with reckless abandon, pieces of wheat flew off in a random direction. Pulses of a weird liquid shot from the decapitated parasites but Annabelle didn’t mind. It was all part of the music.

“Come! My beauty bring me some wine, sit with me and let us dine”, she suddenly sang and crunched the scythe deep into the wheat. More of the plants got cut off.

“Dance with me into the night, give me a kiss and make this right”, she continued. Her scythe got stuck on something she couldn’t quite see. A strong pull on the handle and a weird screaming noise caused the hills themselves to shudder.

“Laying in the hay, cuddling in the wheat, hey foxy one jump on my seat. It’s made of wood and... just what am I singing?”

“Something scary”, Tharia said from behind her, “We need to talk about the company you keep”

The frail one had followed in her footsteps and what confused Annabelle the most was her feeling of elation. Still, the way they both looked, perhaps soap really had been a good idea. Pushing for the last few steps, Annabelle grew quiet and simply slashed her implement into the wheat, much to the groaning protest of her surroundings. And then the fields suddenly peeled back revealing the battered wall of a house.

Despite the marks of weapons and even tree trunks, the wall stood proudly. They had endured worse. A city as large as Valarn had many enemies. All of the weapons the flesh things wielded were a testament to just how many died in these fields along the centuries. Practicality had dictated stronger and sturdier buildings in time, simply to make it less of a fun activity to torch and raze the place every other war.

With the last of her strength, she paced around the house, kicked open the door and then dragged the barely awake Tharia inside.

“Annie? Please never sing again”

“Oh stuff it”

Sounds of laughter came from within the building. They were alive. But so were the hills and this wasn’t the last they had seen of each other.

End: Unlikely Allies | Coming up: And they were legion