I once lived.
Yes, I once lived.
I once lived a magnificent life. I had a family - a husband and three young children. We had a quaint farm just on the edge of the village of Oakvale. Miles had grown up in the village. He had spent many days working alongside his father in the fields. He knew every face, every voice, every path, and every secret.
I was from Bowerstone, the greatest city in all of Albion. Miles would often visit the pub where I served drinks when he came to town to sell his crops. He would tell me stories of the Hero of Oakvale that lived hundreds of year before our time. He knew all about The Guild and Jack of Blades and the Hero that defeated him.
When Miles proposed, I promptly moved to Oakvale - the small village just on the other side of the marshes. During our journey we were ambushed by a pack of Balverines. The werewolf-like creatures were things I had only heard of in fairy tales. I never imagined that they would be so horrifyingly fast and terrifyingly strong. We were forced to take refuge inside the Darwood Bordello until it was safe to travel again. It was there that I met Lysander.
He was a strapping young man and an adventurer, as he so proudly boasted. Miles was his childhood friend and his only remaining friend. Lysander was a egotistic and spent the night fondling the women as they passed, telling exaggerated tales from lands nobody knew, and drinking every bottle of Hoptimus Prime that the bartender had in stock. At the end of the night, he agreed to finish the journey to Oakvale with us when the sun rose. Then, he made his way up the stairs to have a few rounds with the women of the Bordello.
The village was beautiful. It was like Avo had taken my dream home and brought it to Albion. Four shops stood in the center of town. A path led down to the beach and a small dock. The farmlands were vast and plentiful. My new home was an adorable cottage on the east side of town at the very top of the hill. When the sun would rise and set, the most perfect view could be obtained from our front steps.
However, my fairy tale would eventually end.
Fifteen years after our marriage, teh village I had grown to love was preparing for battle. Lysander had come to warn miles of an attack being plotted against Oakvale. It was coming from deep within the marshes and over the next few days we would feel the power of the force surging through the air, the ground, everywhere.
There was no way to escape. Oakvale was surrounded by the marshes on one side and water and forest on the others. The villagers had no choice but to defend themselves. Despite the occasional bandit raid, Oakvale had few attacks. The men were simply farmers with nothing more than pitchforks and rusted swords. With the help of the guards, those were the only weapons ever really needed.
"All's well, Molly, dear." Miles said calmly. "Nothin' us farm boys can't handle."
He kissed my forehead and pulled the hood of my cloak up over my head. The rain came quickly and as it did the throbbing in the earth grew stronger. Miles picked up Joanie, kissed her cheeks, and placed her in the back of the wagon. Simon, the youngest, clung to his father and whimpered as Miles placed him next to his sister. Jacob, our oldest, was staying behind with his father to fight whatever it was that was headed our way.
I smiled sadly as I hugged my son. He was brave just like his father, and I couldn't be more proud of him for wanting to protect our peaceful village. Miles put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me again when I turned around to look at him.
Then, he took my hand and helped me climb into the wagon. In that moment, I became more afraid than ever. I was more afraid than when Jacob travelled with his father for the first time. I was more afraid that the day that Simon was born with a sickly cough and a small frame. I was more afraid that the day Joanie wandered off into the forest in search of bunnies.
In that moment I knew that this would be the last time my family would be together. I would never see my husband or son again.
My life would never be the same.
As the wagon gave a jolt, I began to cry. That was it. That was the end. Whatever was preparing to attack Oakvale was going to be the end of my fairy tale village and my fairy tale life.
"Everything will be fine, Molly." Miles was running next to the wagon, still holding tightly onto my hand. He was smiling, just like he always was, and he didn't look the least bit scared. "I love you, Molly."
And with that being said, Miles released my hand. He waved to us - his wife and two youngest children. I glanced back at Jacob. He was standing proud and waved back at me, smiling softly. At the tender age of fourteen, my Jacob was a brave and strong young man. At the tender age of fourteen, my Jacob would die. He would die while trying to save his father. He would die next to dozens of other brave men. At the tender age of fourteen, my Jacob would die fighting.
And while my brave men were fighting, we were nervously making our way to the abandoned bandit camp on the mountain. The ports of Oakvale had been closed for ages. Our only chance to survive was to attempt to make it to the other side of the mountain.
Night fell quickly - too quickly, in fact. As we made it deeper and deeper into the forest, a fog fell over the land. Whatever Lysander had warned us about, whatever had been lurking in the marshes the past few days - it was on us now. It had already torn through the village and was making its way towards us now. The wagon gave another jolt and I heard the horse guiding us give our a screeching neigh.
James, our elderly neighbor, tried to calm the steed with a "Whoa!" as he pulled on the reins with all his strength. The horse didn't stop and continued to jerk the wagon away from the rest of the caravan. Suddenly, we were falling. The fog had confused the horse and it had led us straight to the edge and right over a cliff.
Joanie and Simon screamed and held tightly to my sides. I refused to let my babies go. There were my only remaining family and I would not let them go. As they screamed, I simply closed my eyes, letting the tears fall down my face, and waited for the falling to end.
When I opened my eyes again, I was laying in the sand. The dense fog still surrounded me. It was everywhere. I got to my knees and crawled around a bit. I heard Simon whimpering and I crawled until I found him laying near the water. I calmed him down, careful not to alert whatever it was that had brought the fog.
"Joanie." I called softly. She hadn't made a sound since the fall. "Joanie."
I kept calling her name to no avail. Nervously, I rose, clutching Simon to my chest. For a moment the fog cleared as I laid my eyes on her motionless form. Her head was resting against a rock - a river of red flowing down it. I didn't allow Simon to see his sister. I simply reached down, closed her perfect green eyes and brushed my fingers through her beautiful black locks one last time. My baby girl was gone.
The sand beneath my feet meant that we had landed on the beach. We were back in Oakvale and back in their grasp. I still had no idea what the evil beings were or what they even looked like. The men had said they would come in search of us when it was safe for us to return, but somehow i knew that the message was never going to arrive. No matter what this horror wasn't going to end.
I had to know what had happened to my Miles and my Jacob. I had to see them one last time, especially since I knew that this would also be my end.
As Simon and I made our way into the village, I saw a man on the ground. He was crying and mumbling apologies as we approached. A body laid before him - cold and motionless.
"I'm sorry. It was a stupid mistake - a stupid, selfish mistake!" The man clutched the body as he sobbed louder. "Oh, Miles! I was so stupid to go there! To go to them! How could I be so stupid?"
Miles. My husband was dead. I glanced around, taking in all the faces of my neighbors. Then I saw Jacob. He was lying face down near the well, but I knew it was him. His bright red hair stood out even in the fog. Like Miles and Joanie, I knew he wasn't going to wake up. Like Miles, James and all the others, Jacob had died with honor.
"Lysander." I croaked, holding back my tears. The adventurer jumped at the sound of my cracking voice. "What are they, Lysander?"
"M-Molly?" Lysander stood quickly, running over to me. "Molly, I -! Miles! Jacob! I'm so sorry, Molly!"
He stumbled on his words as he continues to apologize. Lysander. He was the reason that Oakvale laid in ruins. He was the reason my husband, son and daughter were dead. He was the reason I no longer had a home.
The fog grew thicker and Simon began to scream. He kicked and tried to throw himself from my arms. He called out for his father and screamed louder and louder until he was quiet once more. I cradled my baby in my arms. He was dead, gone like the rest of my family. Whatever it was that Lysander had unleashed upon us had taken Simon without even touching him. Lysander was the only being near me and I realized that it was the fog that had killed everyone. The fog was the deadly attacker that had killed the village of Oakvale.
I cried as I placed my son next to his father on the ground. They would always nap together - Simon laying on my husband's chest - and that was how they laid now in death. I turned to Lysander, enraged that he could cause such evil.
"What have you done, Lysander?" I screamed at the man. Tears streamed down my face as I rounded on him. "What is this fog? Why is it killing everyone? What have you done?"
The fog grew thicker and thicker the more that I screamed. As it grew thicker I felt my body draining of all energy. Whatever was in the fog was sucking the life right out of me. I screamed louder and louder at Lysander until he fell to his knees and broke down. He was crying more than myself and I had more reasons to cry than he did.
"Molly... you have to understand!" Lysander gripped my skirt tightly, groveling pitifully. "You and Miles! You were perfect! You were aging beautifully with a family! You had friends! You had love! I had none of that, Molly! I needed to stay like this, Molly! I needed my looks, my strength, my power! I'm nothing without it, Molly!"
This enraged me more. My family was gone because he was so vain. He cared nothing but of himself. Miles - my husband, his friend, his only friend who would have given Lysander his own life - was dead because of him. Jacob - my son, his godson, the boy that would jump excitedly at the sound of Lysander's name - was dead because of him. Joanie - my daughter, his goddaughter, the girl that wanted to grow up to marry Lysander - was dead because of him. Simon - my son, his godson, the boy that wanted to be just like Lysander - was dead because of him. Because of Lysander's greed and vanity, the village of Oakvale had sacrificed their lives.
I went to strike Lysander across the face, but fell to my knees. The fog was draining my body faster and faster. I didn't have much longer. I looked up at Lysander and begged for him to help me, begged for him to call the fog off, begged him to bring back my family. I inhaled sharply, gasping for every bit of air I could. Then, I was falling again and I closed my eyes once more.
This time when I awaken Lysander is gone. The bodies of my family and the other villagers are gone. Oakvale is surrounded by the marsh. Oakvale has become the marsh. Before me stands an adventurer just like Lysander. I open my mouth and a deathly screech emerges from my throat. My children attack the adventurer and he falters as he draws his sword. He defeats my children and turns to me. With each strike of his blade, I feel as if I'm still there with Lysander, begging for him to make it stop as the fog tears the life out of me. I call forth my children again. They attack with greater force and the adventurer finds himself lying on the ground.
The door to that vile place lies just past me and I know that this man has been sent to do his dirty work just like all the others before him. It's been so long since that day - the day that I lost everything. Lysander has long since died. He surrendered the entire village of Oakvale to them - the Shadow Court. He surrendered our souls and one soul every year for his wish for eternal youth. Lysander, though still young in appearance and still vain at heart, was no more. In his place, in that town just on the other side of the mountain, was Reaver, the Hero of Skill.