Greywolf - Shadow Walking

"Greywolf, you look worried."

I'm sitting on the ruin of an old altar in front of the dead, grey tree, the stars beginning to show themselves as I wait for War-leader Kula to give the signal. As Fox joins me on the weathered stone, I shrug. "I'm just hoping Wysper's alright. If she's already lost her hands-"

"It won't be your fault," Fox says, cutting me off. "This is the last night of the festival, and according to Domina, it's the only good chance of pulling this off. War-leader Kula's certainly run everyone ragged getting ready for it."

"Don't I know it." I reach out and tug on the new Artifact armor she's wearing. "Not to insult you, but it's strange seeing you dressed like the rest of us. Who made it?"

Fox hesitates. "Promise you won't be jealous?" That's odd, coming from a Daemo, but I nod my head yes and she blurts out, "Prince Varsena. He wanted to be the first to sleep with the Daemo Shadow-walker," she says to my surprised look, "before his older brother did. There's no love lost between them."

"I know how Varsena feels." Listening to the way she talks, I can't help but smile. "Do you know you're the first Daemo I've ever met who doesn't talk like a noble lady."

She flashes me a pearl white grin. "Blame Domina. The Rune sword influences us to want to please her, and she likes me better when I talk this way." The smile slips away as she sighs. "She hates being called by that name. I wish I could call her by her old name, but the sword doesn't give us any choice. None of us have any choice at all." I open my mouth to ask her what she means, but she speaks first. "How's the wound you got from the troll?"

I shrug. "It's faded to bruise marks without even a scar. Go back a moment. What did you mean about not having a choice? I mean, everyone has choices, even if there's reasons why you can't make them."

Fox hesitates, then plunges forward. "It's because of the tattoos we were given. They-"

"Fox," a deep male voice says, "Titan wants you with him now. It's almost time." Glancing up, the Gaul named Troll stands nearby with his Artifact Greatsword resting on his shoulder. Fox leaps to her feet and hurries away, the hulking man watching her go by before turning back towards me. "Our girl's really taken a shine to you since your mother whored you out to service her. I think little Fox's in love."

My eyes narrow. "You don't know shite about Daemo if you think they're capable of love."

"And you don't know shite if you think she's an ordinary Daemo." He saunters over, his manner easy, but his hand on the hilt of his sword a white knuckled fist. "You don't know shite about any of us. Best keep it that way."

I rise to my feet. "Is that a threat?"

He grins, looking me in the eye and opening his mouth to speak as Amazonia's voice yells, "Troll, get your ugly arse over here so we can get moving."

"Yes, Domina," he calls over his shoulder, still grinning as he looks back at me. "Remember what I just told you, Shadow-walker." He turns and jogs away. Ignore him; he's Prince Timur's man now, who probably told him to get a rise out of me, and instead pay attention to the column of armored men standing in three separate groups.

The first are the Khanda swordsmen, seasoned fighters in thick leather armor with metal plates riveted into the material, steel swords in their hands, and large, round shields in their left, covered in thin white metal. Their helms are round and open faced, covering their necks with metal plates flaring outward at the bottom. Prince Timur is in the center with his Bloodguards and Amazonia's Chaldeans.

Second are Tengri's Chosen, warriors that the shaman of the Eternal Sky have tapped to be a part of the group. They wear black leather covered in plates of Artifact, and bear Artifact weapons. All those chosen from the White Horde bear great axes, but those few chosen from the mercenaries carry weapons carved in the style of their homelands, wielding long swords or bladed spears, while five of them fight together with a sword in each hand. War-leader Kula and Titan stand in the center of the group, as does Karl, with Lys on his shoulder.

Last are the eighty-five Xian mercenaries. They're exiles from the Empire of Xian, soldiers whose lord rebelled against their emperor and lost, wearing armor of padded cloth with round metal discs sewn into the material and conical helms on their heads. Most of the mercenaries with the White Horde carry normal weapons, yet these soldiers have Artifact crossbows which fire six bolts, one after another, before they have to be reloaded and re-cranked, which goes much, much, faster than ordinary crossbows that only fire one bolt at a time. According to Captain Tang, there used to be more than three hundred crossbows, but even though Artifact's far lighter than steel, it's also more brittle, and no one outside of Xian knows how to make new crossbows.

The Khanda swordsmen open their formation to let Troll in. A moment later a boy, who I was told is Avitohol's blood brother, and who's wearing Artifact armor and a full face Greek helm, steps out from the Chosen with a red battle flag in his hand. He waves it back and forth to tell me it's time. I wave back and he lowers the flag, rejoining his group as I turn towards the dead tree. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I grasp an outstretched branch with both hands and use the concentrated power of the Grey to push outward with my mind.

Color bleeds away from the world in an expanding circle as all smells disappear, the trees and underbrush becoming shadowy images as the night sky turns a light shade of grey without moon or stars. Only the stones of the ruined temple remain.

I asked papa once why the trees and animals not touching a person become shadow statues when humans and the other races enter the Grey, and he said it's because all the worlds connected to the Shadowlands are one world, and all the races on all the worlds really one race. I told him that made no sense and he laughed and taught me an Ogri drinking game, which made no sense either but was a great deal of fun-

"Shadow Raptors!" Kula begins shouting orders as I take off running towards the lead group, drawing my katana from its wooden sheathe with a soft hiss and running through the shadows of the trees and underbrush as if they don't exist.

The Khanda's are already making a Turtle formation like the Etruscans use, their shields above their heads to protect them from two Shadow Raptors swooping straight down towards them out of the grey sky. The Chosen are forming a Hedgehog with weapons bristling like spines, while the mercenaries are supposed to form a Thorn Box, kneeling in a tight square with their short swords out and crossbows on the ground.

Instead, they're milling around, several taking aim at the creature resembling a grey, hairless bird with a body as big as a pony's and an elongated head, as it passes over the first two groups and dives towards them. Ignore it, go after the one that's almost reached the leading edge of the Khandas. One of the warriors is looking my way; he kneels down so I can use his shield like a step as I glance to my left.

It's already reached them! Sprint, sprint; I leap on the shield then onto the ordered rows as I slash at the grey wing filling my vision - the Artifact blade shears through. The creature slams onto the shields then bounces off, screaming as it hits the ground. I run across the shields and into the air, one hand off the hilt for balance. Both of my sandals hit the ground as the Shadow Raptor attempts to launch itself into the sky.

It flounders as it falls. I grip the hilt with both hands again and slash the other wing higher up, shearing through the fragile arm bones and wrinkled grey membrane. It lunges, but it's off balance and I leap backwards, the mouth with rows of razor sharp teeth snapping on empty air.

It falls face down in front of me and shove the tip of my sword on the place where its neck bones meet its body. "Move and I'll kill you."

The Shadow Raptor goes still as stone and I risk a fast glance towards my right. The first Shadow Raptor has one of the mercenaries in its claws and has lifted him above his fellows. It screams as black bolts hit it; Wotan's blood, it just bit the head off the man and is trying to swallow it as the body falls to the ground.

It'll spit the head out in a moment as Shadow creatures do, so I turn my attention back to the monster under my sword. "Tell the others to leave us alone." It digs its claws into the ground and I put pressure on the sword tip. "Nine of you fell to my father's sword, and he taught me everything I know. Tell them to back off and leave us alone and I'll let you live." The Shadow Raptor's glaring at me.

The first one screams and I risk another glance. It's got another mercenary in its claws... wait, its dropping him and beating the air as it climbs its way into the sky. I look back down at the second one and move so it can't easily snap at me. Then leap back and land with my katana in a guard position. It lurches to its feet.

Then it turns and runs away. The first one screams in frustration as it continues climbing into the sky to join two others circling us like vultures, while the one dragging broken wings reaches a point where I can't easily get to it, before turning around and opening its mouth. "The next time you enter the Grey, I will hunt you down and kill you."

"Hunt me down and you'll end up as my first ghost raven, following me as my father's nine follow him." The Grey is already beginning to heal it, tendrils of mist in the air moving towards it like questing snakes that will rebuild its shattered bones and torn wings as it moves away from us once more.

All at once I'm trembling like a child and I don't know why, except Karl told me I'd likely get an attack of nerves before I settle down. I kneel, not sure if my legs will hold me, my katana point first into the ground as I watch it totter away. A large hand on my shoulder makes me look up. "Told you there was nothing to worry about," Karl says in a cheerful voice. He looks towards the mercenaries and his eyes widen. "Odin's bones. I've heard this would happen if someone died in the Shadowlands, but I always thought it was a jest." I turn my head.

The mercenaries are scattering as the headless body of the dead man stands up. Its hands move towards the place where its head used to be, waving them around as it stumbles about like a blind drunkard, looking for a jug of wine. Or in this case, its head. Take a breath, you've got to show them you know what you're doing. "Karl, tell War-leader Kula I'll take care of this."

"You better, because I'm not going near that thing."

I really want Karl beside me, and I give him a sour look. "Coward."

Karl begins clucking like a chicken, which makes me snort in laughter as my fear subsides. But then it returns as I sheathe my sword and begin trotting towards the frightened men. Not Tengri's Chosen, though, for as I pass them, a good number make a fist and raise it over their head in a sign of respect. I give them back the best bow I can while running and keep going. Remember the lessons papa taught you about leading men through the Grey. Respect's got to be earned and you're doing it, so don't turn milk tea into slop by losing your nerve.

Reaching the soldiers of Xian, I grab the closest one by the shoulder. "Where head?" I ask in what I know of their language, which isn't a lot. The clean shaven man stares at me in fear and I shake him. "Where... head?"

A younger one nearby begins to point. "There- gibberish- gibberish- Head there."

I race towards the dead man's head, and stop, kneeling down. Only Shadow creatures bleed in the Grey, and the torn vessels trailing out of the ragged skin hanging from his neck are still full of blood, with his neck bones dangling down even farther. Taking a deep breath to calm nerves growing ragged, I pick up the head with both hands. The helm's dented, with teeth marks in the metal from the Shadow Raptor's teeth, but otherwise the skull seems to be in pretty good-

The eyes open.

Shite, shite! Wotan's blood, don't drop it, whatever you do. Breathe, in and out. Everyone's watching. Better, the trembling isn't so bad. Breathe, in and out. You can do this. "If you hear me, blink one blink." I make my eyes do a slow, deliberate blink. The head's not doing anything, just staring-

The eyes blink one time, then continue to stare. I take another deep breath. Several yards away, the body's stopped moving and is facing me with its arms out. "Okay, one blink yes, two blink no. Okay?" The head blinks once. Another deep breath. "Okay, you dead." The head blinks twice and I sigh, wishing I understood their language better as I move the head so its eyes are facing the headless body. "You. You dead."

The body drops to the ground and curls up into a ball as the mouth opens wide. If it was making any noise I'd swear it was screaming. Papa told me that, if this ever happened, I had to make the dead man accept that he was dead. I move the head so its face is in front of mine once more. "Important, listen. You dead." The eyes close and I shake it. "You dead." Tears glisten within the lashes but don't fall.

"Walker-in-the-shadows." I look up. The mercenary commander, Captain Tang, who's older than anyone else on the raid and completely bald, is frowning down at me. "You are too harsh," he says, speaking in Greco-Roma, which people from Xian to the Etruscan empires speak as the language of trade. "If he can blink then he's alive. Can the head be reattached?"

"He's already a ghost in the Grey. The moment he reenters the real world, he'll bleed out as he would've already, but if he remains in the Shadowlands, he will be pursued by Shadow creatures and torn apart, again and again as the Grey heals him. He needs to remain near the temple, because soon after we leave this area, the real world will push back against the Grey and everything will become normal again."

Captain Tang's eyes narrow, and I struggle to keep the frustration out of my voice. "Papa spends a good deal of time releasing spirits from their torment here. I don't want to add another."

The captain's face is inscrutable. "Give him to me and I will handle it."

I'm more than happy to do so. I give him the head, whose eyes have reopened, and get to my feet. "Put him just inside the ruined temple, but no closer. The area around the grey tree is twilight space, and he could still be trapped."

The mercenary commander nods brusquely, and carries the head over to where the headless body has now sat up, as I trot over to where Kula has the Khanda swordsmen arranged in a Hollow Box formation with the Chosen on the inside, scanning the skies for more Shadow Raptors. As I get close, the warriors step aside to let me in, then close the gap again.

War-leader Kula's a big man with coarse features, wearing Artifact armor with plates pitted and cracked from heavy fighting. Prince Timur stops the conversation he's been having with Kula and gives me a hard look as I give them a short description of my encounters with both the Shadow Raptor and the dead man, including Captain Chou's comment that I'm too harsh.

I finish, and Prince Timur sneers, "You wounded the creature instead of killing it, then coddled a dead man by bringing him his head like a dog-slave. Too harsh?" He spits on the ground. "I say you're too soft."

Keep your temper. Titan, who's standing behind them, told me Prince Timur's got everyone thinking I'm a spoiled child, and the only way to shake that perception is by not rising to his bait. But it's all I can do not to snap back as Kula regards me. "Greywolf," he says in his deep, gravely voice, "instead of killing the creature, you spared it, forcing the other creatures to leave us alone." He turns and looks down at the young boy beside him. "Remember this lesson: Glory in battle means nothing if the battle is lost, and the needless death of even a few men can change a general's fortune for the worse. Greywolf sacrificed glory for a better chance of victory."

Still wearing his full faced helm, the boy nods, and Kula says, "Remember this lesson as well: all men die, and in the face of death, they need to accept it with a stout heart." He glances at me then back again. "I would've trussed the headless man up and left him behind so he wouldn't try to follow us like a lost puppy, but that's on Captain Tang's head now. If a man won't accept his death with honor, don't waste your time." The boy nods again and the War-leader looks at me. "Greywolf, you are still a green warrior. But I have hope."

I don't know why this Tartaros' respect means anything to me, yet I hold myself straight as an iron rod, my heart singing like a man drinking strong spirits even though I'm keeping my face impassive. "Yes sir. Permission to lead us onward?"

Prince Timur, who's looking past me, grunts. "That's the signal."

Glancing back, Captain Tang's aide is waving their red flag. "Go ahead, but keep Karl and a few of the Chosen with you in case there's another attack."

I nod, Kula ordering several of his Chosen to follow me as Karl, Lys, and I leave the column and head towards the front, Prince Timur resuming his conversation with Kula. I feel eyes upon me and glance back. The headless soldier is now sitting on a fallen pillar with his head in his lap, the expression on his face that of a man condemned to death. I turn away and continue walking.