《Tales of Astora: Legacy》Chapter 24: March of the Fallen
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"Death is just the beginning.
As we rest in the soil, the world continue to move forward without us. We, those who were abandoned, the forsaken ones, shall rise again to remind the world of our existence. Our legends may have been scattered, our legacies may have been passed on but as time went on, we were forgotten, relics of the past.
Now we march onward, toward the capital of the living, to let them know that we are still here, no matter how they want to refuse us. For we are the Fallen. We are Sinforma."
* * *
The World's Graveyard was always a place under constant surveillance from the Church. After all, it was where they buried their Heroes and their Saints along with all their followers including warriors and clergy. For centuries, the cemetery continued to expand as the dead continued to pile up. But that was not the problem. The main concern of the Church was that grave robbers or necromancer might desecrate the tombs of the dead for wicked purposes. This was why a large wall was built along the frontier of the graveyard to keep outsiders out.
To protect the wall and what lay beyond it, the Church established the Grave Watchers, a military force whose job was to keep an eye on the wall and to punish trespassers. Four keeps, each in a corner of the cemetery, was supposed to watch their wall. But It made you wonder: who would watch their backs if the threat was actually from inside?
On the northern wall facing the capital of the Theocracy of Light, Deus Lucem, next to the North-West keep, two guards were standing on the wall in the middle of the night. The wind, as it flew through the surrounding forests, made the only sound that could be heard in this night. Along with the torches on the wall, the consoling gentle moonlight was their only source of light.
"Another quiet night heh?" one of the guard asked.
"As usual. I really don't know why they would spend so much money to keep this place running. When was the last time we see an intruder?"
"Aye. But there are petty thieves who occasionally sneaked into this place. We just caught one a few days ago didn't we? But when I see what he managed to take, I suppose it's understandable. All these jewelry and such buried with some old skeletons. What a waste! Some of us don't even have enough to feed our families and some dead dude is even richer than us. It's not like it's useful for them."
"Careful of what you say mate. Don't want to lose our jobs now. At least we got paid for doing absolutely nothing."
The two men laughed out loud. The worst they saw was just some thieves who wanted a share of the offerings to the deceased. And the Church paid a decent amount to keep these keeps running.
"HEY! Are you two slacking again?" an angry voice shouted at the two men.
"Knight Captain!!!! Of course not sir! We are just talking about how dutiful you are!"
But his lies did not work. Walking to the two, the captain smacked them both on the head. Even though they wore a helmet, it would still hurt.
"Don't lie to me you dimwits! We are tasked to watch over the wall and it's our responsibility to do it. By God's name if I see you two slacking off again,...." said the captain. It has been more than ten years since he took on the job to watch the wall. While it was a quiet life compared to his former life in the army, he still took it very seriously. Not for the money but because of his faith. He saw himself as the keeper of theses graves, to help the dead rest in peace without obstruction.
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"But no one is gonna do anything here captain! I swear if we just put scarecrows in our places, no one would even notice the differences." the lazy guard contended.
"That's a very good idea. Scarecrow doesn't need to be paid right? And they don't need to take a break either. I might as well replace you two with them." the captain mocked.
"Wait just a minute! Please ignore what this guy just said! We will resume our duty immediately!" pleaded the other guard.
"You damn better do it seriously. We are the only thing that stand between those greedy bastards out there and this holy sanctuary. I will die before I let anything soiling it."
What a powerful statement! The defenders of the wall, swore to put their lives to protect the final resting place of countless heroes, champions and saints. But the night has only just begun and their nightmare has yet to commence.
"Captain, is there another funeral or something tonight?" asked one of the lookout.
"No, not that I am aware of. Why do you ask?" answered the captain.
"Do you see those light over there? Look like torches to me."
"What??? Let me see!" the captain seized the spyglass held by the scout.
Through the lenses he could clearly see some moving light but it was too dark to see what exactly was out there. But inside that darkness, he could some shiny red dots moving along the light. What could they be?
"Weird! Why would anyone be buried in the middle of the night? Could it be a family visiting? But still it doesn't explain why they go at this hour..." contemplated the captain. Indeed this was a strange occurrence.
"Do you think it's like those...ghosts? The will-o-wisp? I have read about them. Nasty little things that will burn you to death." the guard said.
"Don't be an idiot! Will-o-wisp only exists in unholy places as they are manifestation of the deads who were wronged. This is a sacred place. Every week a group of priests go around and purify the cemetery. It's impossible for them to be here."
"Then what is that?"
"I don't know. But I notice that they are moving toward us so they should pass one of our outpost! Bring me the parchment immediately! Tell the others to be ready just in case! I don't like surprises."
The guard rushed away. A moment later he returned with a scroll in his hand and handed it to the captain. The knight spread out the parchment and put his hand on the circle imprinted on the scroll.
"This is Captain Balmore from the North-West keep! Pass me to the outpost Five!"
The paper shined lightly before a voice spoke out.
"This is outpost Five. What can I do for you captain?" a woman's voice echoed from the scroll.
"We have spotted some light moving toward your position. It's probably some priests wandering around but can you confirm the identity of these people and bring them here?" asked the captain.
"Of course sir!... Oh I can hear steps from outside. They must have been lost. Me and my boys will bring them right to you."
* door knock sound from the scroll*
"Yes please wait a minute! Somebody goes open the door!" the woman continued to speak.
* door knock sound again*
"I get it. Just wait for a second can you?"
But the sound persisted. Angry the woman ran toward the door.
"Can't you just wait for ..... !?!?!?"
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The sound of door shutting rang from the scroll. Then nothing. Some whispers came through. It was the others guard at the outpost who didn't understand. They just saw their boss vanishing at the door.
"Officer? Can you hear me? What's happening? Who are they?"
Still nothing. Then suddenly.
"HELP!!! They are attacking! Please we need reinforcement.....Wait what are you? Don't come any closer!!! HE..."
The screams of the guards could be heard loudly by the captain together with the two guards. But he couldn't do anything. In fact he didn't even grasp what was happening to his men. He had no idea what was coming for him.
But shortly after, from the darkness afar, the captain could see it. It was just a few light before. Now they were thousands, or perhaps even millions, light coming toward the keep. What was even more creepy with the number of red dots moving with the light. As the cloud moved away, the moon revealed the horror that was hiding in the darkness.
An army of undeads. The skeletons, some still had flesh on them, made the clacking sound of bone hitting against each other. The zombies, while slow, spread a foul stench as they passed by. Those transparent beings that seemed like they were floating, wraith. Evil spirits of the deads who could not pass on to their next lives.
How could all the foul abominations be in this holy sanctuary?
"Impossible....what the hell are those???" yelled one of the guards.
The captain too was dismayed by the hellish scene in front of him. But years of war has bolstered his resolve, made him able to face opponents he couldn't otherwise dare to look it. He quickly regained his calmness and gave out his orders.
"Ring the bell immediately! Inform the others outposts! Request for reinforcement from the others keeps!"
Archers, stay on the wall and cover us!
Knights, you do with me to face them! Not a single one is to pass us. I will die before I let one of them reach the Capital!"
The captain's heroic words, together with the bell tolled, acted like an awakening call to all the guards. The men quickly got into position just as their captain ordered. But they were only a few hundreds. How could they win against this army of the damned?
The captain was on his horse standing together with his troops down the wall. The first line of knights was equipped with great shield to protect their comrades. Needless to say it took incredible strength of a man to hold a shield taller than he was. The second line used lances to pierce those who dared approach the shields. The rest had sword and a hand shield as their basic equipment. The archers stayed on the wall, raising their bows and waited for their captain's command.
What a brave bunch! While they were greatly outnumbered, they could at least make a stand against normal undeads while waiting for reinforcement. Their hope has not been shattered, yet. But they forgot something. The place they were guarding wasn't just your usual cemetery. The people buried here were not the same as the common folk. Nonetheless no one noticed it before it was too late.
The undead army stopped simultaneously. Now Balmore understood what were those red dots. It was their eyes.
One of them walked forward. It was an old man who wore a luxurious white robe with golden laces and a odd looking hat, a tall folding cap rising to a peak and sewn together with some golden jewelry. He held a long staff with a crown at the top of it. The staff itself must be twice his height and judging from the way he walked, the staff seemed to be a bit too heavy for the old man.
But it was not his ridiculous look that shocked the captain but rather who the old man was.
"No...it can't be...you can't be here!" the captain spoke in disbelief.
"Who is he captain? Some kind of big shot?" asked one of the guards.
"Saint Vyncis, pope of the Church of Light!!!" he muttered.
"What? The pope? What is he doing here?"
"Because he has been dead for more than thirty years you idiot. He is buried in this very cemetery." the captain looked at the old man painfully. Memories of the past came back to him. The days when he still served as the personal guard of Vyncis. The day when Vyncis died of illness. Balmore has tried to forget about the days but he could not abandon his master and his friend here after all these years. If he could not protect him in life then in death it shall be.
But no matter how he deluded himself, Balmore could not expect to see his old acquaintance walking this world again.
"Your Holiness...I was not able to protect you when you were alive. But I won't let this destroying everything you have built. I will protect your honor, my old friend!"
But as Balmore prepared to release his friend from this curse, the old undead raised his staff and pointed toward Balmore.
Suddenly Balmore could feel a great pressure flying toward them. Something big and primal. From the sky, a great shadow dived toward the knights. A skeletal dragon.
As he flew by, the dragon released a green toxic mist onto the knights. Anything that came into contact with it melt down in a matter of seconds. The knights screamed in agony as their flesh were consumed by the mist.
Lucky for Balmore, as a Paladin, he immediately raised a shining light barrier to protect himself and a few of his troops. But the barrier did not help for long as it melt down a few seconds later. Still it was enough for Balmore and his surviving men to get out of the way.
"Archers, fire! Aim at the dragon!"
Balmore gave his command to the men on the wall. The archers released their arrows but none of the arrows worked. They did hit their target but what good arrows would do to something with only bones? The thing's very existence was already a violation against nature itself.
Yet things did not stop there. Something was shooting cannonballs at the wall, killing all the archers. As the captain traced back where to the shoot came from. A large beastman with still his flesh intact but with red eyes was holding a cannon on his arm.
Then from behind, the captain realized that half of his remained troops lay dead on the ground with their neck cut open. But Balmore didn't even hear a thing. The men didn't scream either. If a single one of them saw their friend falling down dead, they would have yell out. But nothing. Did it mean that all of them died at the same thing? All of the sudden, Balmore caught something in the corner of his eyes. He quickly grasped it and finally saw what killed his man. A scythe linked to a chain which was moving at incredible speed. Using all his force, he pulled the chain, revealing its user. A slim elf woman with red eyes with very light clothing and a cloth covering half her face.
Not just these two strange undead were present. A lot more was fighting the watchers as they cut down the knights with ease.
Balmore recognized them. Rather anyone would recognize them. They were the heroes of the past, those who gave their lives to defeat the demon lords. Some died while others lived until the end of their lives. In the end they all ended up here.
The captain could see that he wouldn't get out of this place alive. How could he alone fight against all these legends of the past? He could barely hold off against one of them, not to mention there were hundreds of them out there. While they were already dead and probably their skills have faltered, it still made them dangerous opponents. But at the very least, Balmore must release his friend Vyncis from this.
Undead was naturally weak against Light element. A sword imbued with light could kill an undead instantly. And Balmore had one in his hand. He charged toward the old undead. As he cut down one after another line of undead priest surrounding the pope, he could feel his strength leaving him. But he would not give up. For he made a promise that he would protect his friend, even in death.
"Join us Balmore!" said Vyncis in a soft voice.
"I won't let you defile him any longer!" Balmore jumped as he held his sword high.
....
....
....
Alas not everything could be achieved with strength and resolve alone. However now the captain should be pleased. From now on, he would be able to protect his friend, to be his shield as an undead paladin.
$'ŭ
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