Zvanimir stood within the dark tomb. It was quiet and empty, but compared to the coffin he had just escaped from it was a welcome sight. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, but there were slim rays of light piercing into the tomb from the ceiling that allowed him to get a better grasp of his surroundings.

The first thing he noticed wat the rough terrain he was standing on. It felt unstable beneath his feet and as he looked at it, the mixture of cloth and bone became clear to him.

“Where am I?”

The words echoed in the tomb. A reminder of his solitude.

He bent down to get a closer look at the ground and was greeted by a ribcage covered in rags.

“It is quite cold.”

He picked up the rags and shook the remaining broken bones out of it with little care. It didn’t fit him well, but it would do for the moment.

After putting on the rags, it quickly became clear to him that there were many more like it. Bones and clothing littered the ground around him. Wherever he would take a step, he would tread upon remains.

“People, many of them”

It seemed like the sight of all the dead sprawled across the ground should affect him more in some way, but it did little to move his thoughts bar the mystery of why they were all here.

“And what is this?”

His hand reached for the cloth that was around his neck, the only item besides the sword that was with him in the coffin. It was a piece of thick red cloth, tied carefully around his neck like a scarf, only shorter.

“Hmm, this matters.”

It was difficult to tell why, but something deep inside of him told him that the scarf should not be discarded. And he thought the same of the sword, or what remained of it.

After picking up the sword, he began scavenging the room until he finally found a set of clothes that he could wear. It wasn’t much as most of it was rags, but he did find a pair of gauntlets that were in good enough condition.

In addition to the gauntlets, a pair of brown pants, leather shoes and a belt also lay in various places across the tomb. It wouldn’t last him long, but it would be enough for the time being, until he found something more long lasting.

“Hello!”

The words filled the room as quickly as it became empty again. There was no response to the greeting.

“But a woman, I saw her.”

The image of a pale woman clad in all white clouded his mind. He was sure that he had seen her just moments before he woke up.

He couldn’t remember her features, but he could hear what he assumed were words coming from her. Strings of sounds shaped in a language he could not understand nor reproduce no matter how hard he tried.

“I must have imagined it.”

He held onto the thought, but other matters were at hand now. Finding a way out of here, for one, was something he should prioritise.

“If there is light, there is also some way to the outside.”

The line of thinking was a logical one, but it did little in helping him actually find a way out.

“Maybe a weapon first, to be safe.”

Zvanimir looked around the room. It was a large room, the ceiling alone reaching up to five metres in height. He could most definitely not reach it, but it gave him a good indication of how far underground he was.

The next thing that struck him were the walls. They were tens of metres apart, but more importantly, they had been carved into the rock and they had markings on them.

He walked over to one of the walls, but upon closer inspection, the carvings that once adorned them were difficult to make out, but he could see at least that some of them depicted people.

“People… Subjects… A kingdom.”

The shape of the remaining carvings was one of a castle. Around it standing people in great numbers.

“But whose kingdom?”

Zvanimir traced his hand over the walls, seeking out more of the carvings, but was greeted only by damaged walls that told him little of his whereabouts.

“You have much to tell, but no voice.”

After several futile attempts at making out what the walls showcased, he turned his attention to the ground once more.

All the bones began to clatter in small bursts.

“What?”

The small bursts eventually became large bangs as the ground beneath his feet started to shake and the ceiling above him looked as if it was ready to collapse due to the tremors that were occurring.

The whole room quaked and rocks began to fall from above.

“What is going on?”

Almost reflexively, Zvanimir moved closer to the walls as the quakes became stronger and stronger with each passing moment.

Within the next few minutes, everything was shaking furiously as if the earth itself was being moved by some unstoppable force. Zvanimir could do little but stand still and hope for the best as a way to escape was not in sight.

A loud crashing could be heard from the other end of the room as a large piece of the stone wall broke apart from the shaking and revealed a chasm behind it.

“Better to try than to die here.”

Zvanimir tensed the muscles of his legs and began dashing across the room towards the newly revealed chasm.

“Come on. Come on.”

The shoes he had picked up helped protect his feet from the bones that would otherwise have torn them apart, but some pieces still managed to make their way through the worn leather of the shoes.

“Arrgh!”

Pain was of little concern to him now. Survival was most important. But it did little to alleviate the stabbing pain of the splintered bones that had lodged themselves in his foot. Another thing to take care of.

The chasm was finally withing reach and Zvanimir leapt into the opening with all his strength, just in time to avoid the falling rubble of the ceiling that was coming down above him.

Dust and dirt swept into the air and filled the chasm, but he was alive which was important.

“Damned bones.”

Seeing as he was alive for the moment, his attention shifted to the bones that had stabbed through his foot. With little care, he took off the shoe and began pulling out the large bone shard from his foot one by one.

“Mmmph.”

One shard.

“Rrrrgh.”

Another.

“Arrgh.”

And finally the third was removed.

He tore of a piece of cloth from the rags he was wearing and quickly tied them around his foot.

“It’ll work for now.”

No time was wasted as Zvanimir got back onto his feet and began to assess the new situation he had found himself in.

“Empty.”

The chasm was just a small hole in the wall and it did little to help him leave, but the newly collapsed ceiling made for a way out. All that he needed to do was scale the walls somehow and reach the surface.

“Maybe you’ll help.”

He gazed at the broken sword in his palm.

It took a minute for him to find stable footing atop the rubble. There was much of it, more than he had expected, which was good.

“Now just to find the tallest point.”

With the help of the rubble, he was able to cut the distance he would have to climb from five metres by half.

“If I can move this here.”

He took pieces of rock and heaps of dirt and began pushing them all onto one large pile. The walls themselves offered little in places to grab onto, but if the rubble was formed into a large enough mound, he could use that to make his way out.

-

“Just a bit more.”

The final rock fell into place and the mound was finished. It took him longer than expected, but his body still had enough energy to spare for this task. With the mound now constructed, it was just a matter of climbing it and reaching the ledge.

“Freedom, at last.”

-

The outside world. Zvanimir had expected at least some vegetation, trees or bushes. Anything to fill out the landscape, but instead, he was greeted by a barren landscape, hills littering the distance, but not much else.

“So this is it. What a sad sight.”

To him it was sad, after all, he expected a kingdom, or at least some form of life. Instead, nothing but the scenery greeted him.

“Ah. Hey! You!”

All was not lost after all. The figure of a horseman in the distance was a welcome sight for Zvanimir’s sore eyes and he began waving at it, trying to catch the rider’s attention.

“Over here!”

He began to walk in the rider’s direction and seemingly, the rider began to head towards him as well. But it was strange.

The horse was large and Zvanimir expected it to be followed by a thundering gallop. Instead, the horse made little sound, if any at all. Instinctively, his grip tightened around the broken sword and he raised it in front of himself in what he could only assume was a fighting stance.

As the horse came closer its form became clearer. It was not horse nor rider, but the two merged into one, seamlessly, creating a perfect union of steed and warrior.

The horse was releasing steam with every breath it took and so did the rider. His body covered in embroidered clothes. Atop his head lay a hat and on it a feather as long as the horse itself, protruding from his head like a horn growing backwards.

The rider approached with tremendous speed and as Zvanimir tried to brace himself, the rider stuck his hand into the horse’s body and pulled out a spear which it aimed at Zvanimir.

“I don’t think I can rely on the sword for this.”

Zvanimir’s leg muscles tensed up again, ready to dodge. He began the movement but as soon as he did, he felt the spear pierce his left shoulder even before the rider struck him.

“Aaaaaaaaggggghhh!”

The spear lodged itself in his shoulder and the rider let go of his weapon. Zvanimir knelt and began trying to pull the spear out, but as his hand touched the weapon, all he could feel was a sharp burning on the hand that had gripped the spear.

The rider circled around Zvanimir and stopped in front of him. The skeleton like face of his gazing into Zvanimir’s eyes.

“You. What are you?”

It had no soul, of that much Zvanimir was sure. The rider and horse both stared at him as the spear began to burn up and turn into ash.

“ⰿⰰⱃⰽⰵⰴ”

The creature spoke in a tongue not familiar to Zvanimir and as it uttered the words, the spear was completely gone from his body, leaving instead a mark on him.

“Ⱅⱈⱃⰵⰵ. Ⰿⰻⱀⰵ.”

The creature lifted a pouch and pointed at it. Zvanimir could not understand what it was saying, but he knew that he had to escape somehow.

Without thinking, he shot onto his feet and started to run in the direction opposite of where the creature had come from. It was most likely futile, but it was the only choice he had.

And so, Zvanimir ran. And the horseman just stood still. After all, pursuit wasn’t necessary. It had done what it sought to do.

“Ⱄⱁⱁⱀ”