Death, the final destination for most.
The point where the struggle of life seems to melt away, to an extent at least, there are sinners who must atone for their sins in the existence of flesh.
But as the curse, the dark sign crept it's way across the kingdom, this gentle release was taken from us.
We are undead.. humans like many others, except for one caveat; We cannot truly die.
So of course this poses the question… if you can't die then there's nothing to fear right?
One could not be more wrong.
In the wake of this curse, where undeath may seem to be a blessing, it soon lives up to it's name, a curse.
As warriors from all walks of life fall to the hellish transformation this land has seen, throwing themselves constantly into the fire, they begin to lose themselves, their purpose and their will to continue, wanting nothing but release but attaining none.
This is the burden I bear, nearly as much as the blade I once bore, it serves as a reminder of the will to live, and how easily it slips away.
I had seen both sides of it but had eventually thought I found a way out, driving a blade through my gut and taking my own life, much like old warriors of the east would, except I had no honor to protect and no dignity to upkeep, I was nothing, like dust in the wind. Leaving without a trace, as if I had never been there in the first place.
I now find myself awakening in a graveyard of sorts, rather a dumping ground for the dead since there's less ceremony or care around it.
There was no reason to care.. most of the dead would simply return eventually.
Falling to my knees as I tried to step out my once peaceful resting place. Standing upon feet that hadn't seen use in untellable time and shaking the dirt out of my grey fur. Noticing a familiar blade beside my casket, along with a shield I pick them up.
They felt heavy and unwieldy as if it were my first time bearing arms. It couldn't be my first time could it?
I felt a slight sense of déjà vu as I started to slowly walk, finding the clothing I was buried in quite comfortable against my fur, well more armor than anything, having bits of bradded plate metal at certain joints, such as my shoulder and my knees.
Having trouble recalling why I'm alive once more I spot a sickly looking person before me, roughly 10 meters away.
My mind relaxing and my face lightening up. "Excuse me my fellow have you-" I start, putting a gentle paw upon their shoulder.
The cloaked figure turns to face me, it's clothing having clearly seen better days. It's a feline face but, decayed and rotted. Their eyes gone from their sockets and their maw seeming to emote a scream but only a distressed groan sounded.
I back away in horror.
"By the gods what's happened to you?" I half shout, feeling my stomach churn as I raise my weapon instinctively.
The husk before me, what I believed was once a tiger, it's striped coat seeming to loosely hang upon it's skeleton raised it's weapon, it seemed to bear what once was a meager short sword although in disrepair, snapped in half leaving nearly only the hilt.
Emitting a hellish groan and shout it swings at me, striking my shield, yet I double back in pure shock before charging forward for a counter attack, giving a haphazard swing across it's stomach.
Its frail form collapsing without much of a fight, it's bones crushed under the force of the panicked swing.
In a strange way I felt stronger somehow, as if I had gained something for defeating them… I don't know if that was the adrenaline or something else.
My confusion is furthered by a blue wisp seeming to trace to me, going directly into my chest. A sensationless occurrence but curious nonetheless. Knowing naught else to do, I venture forward only encountering a few others like that tiger before, only now I felt my strength returning to me, my step more confident and my swings having more precision.
Coming up a small incline, I find a small campfire or bonfire if you will, burning at only some coals but seeming fresh. Had someone been here before me? Regardless I sit and rest momentarily, attempting to gather my thoughts, or at least the shambles thereof.
Before long I stand back up, feeling quite invigorated indeed I press forward, having a bit of a bounce in my step, looking out into the distance I could see some ruins, creating a beautiful vista. Beautiful in a somber sense, like a grey area. Nothing notable yet nothing dangerous, comforting yet hopeless.
Wandering about I find what looks like a small arena with a large humanoid figure in the center, kneeling as if before a lord.
As I get closer I notice a large coiled sword embedded within the armored figure. Its armor intricate but worn beyond belief.
Not knowing what I was doing I grip the hilt of that weapon, taking a breath before pulling back hard, but to my surprise it seemed to slip out of them with ease, falling to the floor.
My heart sinks as the armored giant before me rattled and clanked to life, gripping it's halberd in a readied stance.
Without hesitation the figure lugs its massive weapon towards me, catching me off guard as I was taken with awe, my trance broken as the glaive struck my shield nearly knocking my away.
I dodge to the figures right, taking a couple swipes at its body, to my surprise it bled, blood spilling profusely from the armored figure, staining my blade. My combatant takes a stance, swinging his halberd wildly but with near pinpoint accuracy, striking me as I try to get out of the wake of his blow, knocking me down.
I was lucky that its weapon must have been dulled after all these years, leaving naught but a flesh wound.
In a panicked scramble I pick myself up from the ground in the nick of time to avoid that same weapon careening towards me, the halberd crashes against the ground, a breeze blowing through my hair from the pure force of the swing.
I clamber to my feet, taking caution as I raise my shield, circling around the armor's back, taking a chance at kicking out it's leg.
I had noticed it was simply gear without a body to wear it, possessed armor.
As my boot-clad right foot strikes their leg, to my shock the archaic leggings shatter before my eyes, shards littering the ground and effectively crippling my foe, making it fall to its knees.
In a burst of adrenaline I take this chance to get in hits where I can, the armor not seeming to fall.
It would struggle to try to pursue me with it's lack of a right leg, the figure pathetically stumbling.
Holding my guard I step closer to the clearly defeated armor, looking into the eye slit of it's helm, seeing naught but two soul-piercing red eyes.
Standing now an arm's length away from my foe, I put a paw upon the helm and hesitate only briefly before driving my blade into the eye slit, a ghastly cry of pain resounded as the inky apparition within the armor vanished, leaving the remains to fall to the ground, breaking and cracking at my feet.
I pant quite heavily as I sheathe my blade, only just then noticing the wound in my side; Only a flesh wound for sure, but that didn't change that fact that it stung like hell itself.
I carry on, leaving the remnants of my foe behind as I walk on, towards those ruins I had seen before.
I noticed that as I continued forth, I find myself surrounded by graves and caskets of all sorts, some of them clearly having been robbed. But in this seemingly barren land I couldn't blame them, survival by any means necessary.
I find a decent place to rest, at the foot of some ruined stairs on the side of a hill leading upward.
I sit down, leaning against a crumbled wall sighing heavily as my mind began to process what had gone on only minutes ago. I had encountered many a foe in my lifetime, or had I? I know not whether I am still alive or if I had been damned for my transgressions, this can't be any sort of vision because I feel the fatigue of every step and each swing of my blade, not to mention the incessant burning in my side.
I felt myself slipping into a false slumber as, I knew I shouldn't rest but my body said otherwise.
As my heavy eyes began to fall closed, my ears perked to the sound of soft footsteps headed towards me. Sitting up and glancing about the place, my eyes happen upon a cloaked figure with spotted black and white fur.
The dalmatian I spied soon caught my glance, they were understandably taken aback, by what folly would one find life in this vast void? I rise to my feet, taking a few steps closer to them with a paw extended forth in a gentle gesture to establish some sort of trust.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I'm not like…them." I say with slight lump in my throat, it hurt somewhat to say that, those savage undead were once warriors like myself, soldiers with loved ones and families.
And here I was acting as If I'm any different from them, being one foot in the grave on my own.
The canine before me lowered the hood on it's cloak, or was it a dress of sorts? Robes possibly, such lovely flowing fabric it was tough to tell. They step closer to me, looking into my eyes with their own seas of sapphire, such crystal blue was entrancing.
"You, you're undead. And yet you don't strike me down when you've shown you bear the strength to do so."
The figure spoke eloquently, their voice soothing in nature and making me feel safe.
"Yes, that seems to be the case. But…who are you?" I ask, a slight rasp in my voice as I hadn't uttered a word since I had awoken.
The spotted figure cocked a brow
"I could ask you the same, although you've probably forgotten as most like you do. Regardless my name is Percival, I was the grave tender here, the one that helped soothe restless souls to their rest. At least I was until this damned curse happened." Percival explained.
I had opened my mouth, slightly insulted by that statement but I held my tongue. This could be the only other sane person left, and I couldn't risk getting on bad terms with them.
"Well you aren't too far off I regret to admit." I start with a slight chuckle, glancing to the wound at my side.
"That is quite a fine blade you bear, clearly crafted with much care." The grave tender remarks, their eyes widening some as they notice the wound upon my side.
"You're injured." He says quite bluntly.
I shake my head and grin.
"You needn't worry about me sir, a flesh wound is all." I say, starting to walk some, wincing as pain shoots up my back.
The dalmatian frowns and puts my arm on their shoulder to support, starting towards to the ruin I had seen when I had awoke.
"Just like men I swear, denying help when they clearly need it." They scoff as we walked.
"I'm certainly thankful but- gaah! A little more careful would you?" I groan and wince as we climb a ruined staircase, the dalmatian clearly having trodden this road before had haste in his actions, a confident stride that far out sped my own.
Percival gave a slight chuckle. "Careful? Who's the one who that got injured and tried to act all strong?" he retorts with quite the sting, the eloquence in his voice replaced with that of playful banter.
I roll my eyes, I can't help but chuckle at their playful nature.
"What is this place? It's beautiful." I ask in awe as Percival leads me into the entrance of the archaic structure, the archway being crumbled, the walls adorned with intricate carvings and stone murals.
In the center of the building, was a large clearing with staircases branching from it, left, right, up and down.
The dalmy leads me further to a small room with a surprisingly well-cared for bedroom with a decently spacious bed with luxurious looking linens and blankets upon it; He then sits me on the end of it.
I sigh with relief, glad to finally rest but then I look to Percival as he clasps his paws
"I suppose we should get you out of that armor." He says with a gentle grin.
My face flushes and a slight blush tinges my cheeks
"Oh um…right." I say, standing back up and beginning to undo some of the straps and buckles of my armor, wincing a bit as I lean down to undo my boots.
The dalmatian tsks and shakes his head, kneeling down and grabbing my booted foot, starting to undo the buttons of it and such.
I would argue but Percival was right, I was injured and needed help as such.
Of course I hated to do this, lean so heavily on another. Being a burden was something I loathed, finding it to be one of the most deplorable acts one could do to a fellow man.
Once my feet were freed, I wiggle my toes a bit but then smile up to the grave tender.
"Thank you, I can take it from here." I say, standing once more and beginning to shuffle out of my armor, stopping when I notice that canine still standing behind me.
I turn to them, holding the leather against my chest
"A bit of privacy if you would please." I say, Percival rolling their eyes
"All right fine I'll get out of your fur don't get your tail in a twist. Just…don't overdo it alright? I would hate to see the one other soul around here suffer." He says with a smile, stepping out of my room and closing my door.
Slipping my armor off and setting it down beside the bed leaving myself in the fur, I yawn and stretch tiredly.
I regret the stretch as pain shoots through my side. I lay down, my body finally relaxing and sinking into the comforting bed below me. Such respite I haven't felt since, well death itself.
I soon found myself fading in a out of sleep, I was fatigued for sure but my mind was playing tricks on me, hearing things that weren't there, footsteps coming towards me or even small whispers, what they say is unintelligible which only furthers my plight.
Staring at the ceiling as my eyes grow heavy. I shouldn't be thinking so much in this clouded state, it could lead me down a troubling path. Finally giving up I let my eyes fall shut, soon to drift off into a much needed slumber, and a deep one at that.