We emerged from the dark and murky cave, but the air was not much better. What surrounded the exit of the tunnel was a swamp, a marshy expanse of green foliage and a murky slush of a sopping grass puddle hybrid. Insects buzzed by my ears, and the calls of birds filled the sky I could not see clearly through the tops of the giant trees.

"Ahh." Walter sighed. "You can almost smell the sunlight. Isn't it wonderful? The damp, muggy, soggy sunlight." I scrunched my nose and swatted a large stick like insect away from my face, which Jax tried to catch in his mouth. He looked around and stated, "This is Mourningwood alright. I hope the people we're looking for are still alive."

"Why wouldn't they be?" I questioned, looking to the marsh around me, finding it to be only threatening to my shoes and nose.

"Because come nightfall, it's one of the most dangerous places in Albion." Walter stopped and scratched at his shin and bit, "I don't know about dangerous, but I'm starting to get a rash. Bloody swamp." I smiled and pushed a low hanging branch out of my way as I followed close behind my mentor.

"We made a good team back in that cave, didn't we? It's been a while since I got stuck into a real fight." spoke Walter after a moment. He continued, reminiscently, "It was just like fighting by your father's side." He turned to face me, his face wistful. "I'd forgotten what it was like, standing next to a Hero."

I gave him a weak smile. The transformation of my life from the castle to then was significant, and I felt like things were moving so rapidly I could barely stop to think about the immense changes. I knew that a Hero was what I was, but I didn't feel like one. Sometimes, I could feel the strength of my father surging through me in battles. But afterwards, I felt like the same frightened delicate princess who couldn't even hold her own against her brother.

After a half an hour or so, the nearly invisible path became less so, and leveled out. Walter, out of breath, said, "I think we're almost there." He was right, for as we rounded a large collection of mossy boulders, we saw a small wooden bridge leading over a marshy pool and into a stone fort.

"That must be the place up ahead." Stated the aging soldier, and continued longingly, "What I wouldn't give for a bowl of soup and a hot bath."

As we advanced toward the stairs leading into the defense structure, a soldier in a ratted and filthy uniform called from above, "Cease your movement! Be you men or be you hollow men?"

Walter shouted, "Have you gone daft boy? Open up the doors!"

"Walter? Is that you?" the man asked.

"The very same. Now are you going to let us in or not?" he spoke impatiently.

"Right. Yes of course!" he turned to the inside of the fort and exclaimed, "Open the gates! Tell Major Swift Walter's here!" The wooden doors rattled open as two uniformed men stood before us, holding them.

"Welcome Sir Walter." They both greeted, looking ahead, well trained.

The fort was aged, cracks running through the walls that weren't reduced to rubble. It had seen hard days for certain. But it possessed a cheery mood all the same. There were soldiers drinking, chatting, and one even stroked the strings of a lute beside a barrel of ammunition.

Two men stood before us, the first a decorated general. He had a stern face that was covered by a large and bushy mustache. His dark hair was combed over his head in the same curling fashion as his facial hair, and possessed a streak of grey, indicating his age to be near that of Walter's. Two jeweled swords hung by his side and a pistol strapped to his chest. His posture was serious and intimidating, but his eyes held a lighthearted fire that sparked trust in me immediately.

The man to his right was far younger, looking to be of my age. His uniform was far less formal than the other soldiers, lacking the coat and hat, and the white shirt underneath splattered with blood. He bore a mischievous grin and messy blonde hair, and a slight amount of scruff on his chin. He may have looked like a new recruit despite the massive amount of weaponry he carried. Slung over his back was a large blunderbuss and at his side a pistol. Carried on his chest was a strap of five bombs and a thick bladed sword at his hip.

Walter walked up to the older man and grabbed his forearm while the other did the same. Walter grinned and bellowed, "There he is, the one and only. Major Swift."

The general chortled, "Walter! What the blazes are you doing here?"

"We came looking for you!" Walter said pointing. "I have a proposition."

The young one, who had been staring at me with inquisitive eyes as I tried not to notice, spoke, "You came all this way to 'proposition' us?" He chuffed, "And I thought you were here to save us from the legions of the damned."

Walter's grin widened, "Ben Finn!" He slapped him on the back and Jax started to sniff his shoes and hands "It's good to see you. I take it the legends about this place are true then."

Major Swift snorted, "I'll say. You've never seen so many hollow men in one place. We've been stationed here for weeks trying to eradicate them." He walked over a small set of quickly dug graves and continued, "Mainly, it's us getting eradicated. We lost some good men last night, including Lieutenant Simmons here." Sadness filled his voice as he pointed to the center grave. Swift turned back to Walter, "And the buggers will be back tonight!"

Walter answered, "Logan just loves to send you on the best assignments, doesn't he?" My fists clenched at my brother's name. "That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about…"

The Major, as if just noticing I was there, looked to me, puzzled, and began, "Is this…?"

"The Princess, yes." Walter replied for me. The man Ben's confused expression cleared up and smiled as if a great mystery had been solved. "I'll explain." My mentor said. "But just treat her as any other pair of hands for now."

Major Swift nodded and took a drag from his blazing pipe. "Fair enough." He looked to me, respect and seriousness etching his features. "Captain Finn will show you to the mortar. We could use a body up there."

Ben Finn spoke kindly, "Meet me on the wall when you're ready. I'll introduce you to Private Jammy, so called because he's the luckiest sod in the fort." He then walked in to the southern side, and Jax trailed him.

"You'll probably be stuck by that mortar all night." Walter guessed. "Take a look around first, talk to the men; it never hurts to know who's got your back."

I made my way around, seeing the aspects of life these men were living, but I could still hear Swift and Walter despite what they might have thought. "So, the Princess. What's going on there then?" asked Swift surprised that I was here, naturally.

"It's just as I'd hope, Swifty, just as we'd all hoped."

"She's a Hero then, ready to lead the Kingdom in a glorious rebellion." Swift proclaimed happily.

"That's right. Soon." Walter said in a hushed voice, and they both looked over to me. I pretended that I hadn't been dropping in on their conversation and quickly climbed the stone steps to the top of the fort's walls where Ben was with another man.

Ben looked me over and crossed his arms, "I don't suppose you've ever used a mortar before." He grinned a shook his head, "There's nothing to it. There's always a slight chance of maiming of course but, um, I'm sure you'll pick it up." He winked, and I gave a weak smile.

"First, I'd like to introduce you to Private Jammy. He'll be your loader." Captain Finn motioned to the lad next to him, and he looked like hell to be honest. He had many bandages wrapped around his head, torso, and limbs. All were soaked with blood and his eye was swollen shut.

He sniffed and spoke congested, "Pleasure to meet ya. True what they say about me, ya know; jammiest soldier in Albion. Seven-hundred and twenty-four wounds and still standing!" he raised his fist to the air, obviously proud of such a gruesome accomplishment.

Ben laughed, "Don't worry, you'll get used to him. After a while he's hardly revolting at all." Jammy bore a toothy grin, with several of them missing. "Right Jammy! It's time to show her the ropes."

"Yes Sir!" cried Jammy saluting him with a mangled hand. "Right then," he said turning to me. "My life's gonna be in your hands so, let's make sure you know what you're doing, okay?" He placed his hand on the large metal cannon, "Go on, grab the mortar and we'll do some practice shots."

I nodded and seized the end of the mortar, controlling its firing point. "Right, let's see what you've got. See that scarecrow over there?" Jammy asked. He was pointing to one centered in the middle of the marsh behind the fort. "Blow it up. Yeah, that's right! Let's blow it to buggery! Come on!" I smiled and lit the fuse. Within moments the metal shot was fired from the mortar with surprising force and sound, blasting the scarecrow to smithereens.

"Yes! Yes! Boom!" Jammy cackled. He turned to Ben, "You see that? You see it? That scarecrow's a goner!"

Captain Finn smirked and nodded at Jammy's enthusiasm, "Beautiful, move on to the next one."

I aimed at the one to the left of it, firing once again with a satisfying crack as again the scarecrow was reduced to nothing but a pile of ash. "Boosh!" laughed Jammy. "Goodbye Mr. Scarecrow! That was bloody brilliant!"

"Alright Jammy, don't get too excited. You know what happens when you do. Let's just take care of the last one." Ben said.

The private nodded and pointed to the last figure. "Just one left. Hang on…" he squinted and limped closer to the edge. "I don't remember setting this one up." Just then, the skeleton broke from its support rods and let loose a deep kind of growling noise. It set its eyes on us, and I could see the light blue glow of the wisp that had taken refuge in the cranium. Several more broke forth from the ground and stood by its side, beginning a shambling walk towards the entrance of the fort.

A soldier yelled, "They're here! Start firing!"

I positioned the mortar toward the horde of hollow men, letting the metal shot loose on the pack of them. They exploded, each and every one of them. But our problems were not over, for the invasion was far from it. Several other groups burst forth from the dirt and marsh, running towards us with surprising speed. I did everything in my power to blast through them, Jammy working hard through his injuries to load the mortar as quickly as possible. Ben stood beside us, firing his blunderbuss at those who proceeded close enough.

Soon, Swift shouted above the sounds of mortar and gun shots, "They're at the rear gates! Take position!"

I leapt over the railing and ran down to the gates, Ben close behind shouting, "All guns on the gates! We can't let them through!" The skeletal beings pounded at the wooden gates, and the two soldiers from earlier ran and placed all their weight against it.

One strangled, "We can't hold them! They're too strong." Mere seconds later the gates collapsed on the two men, and they were crushed underneath the logs as the hollow man legion stormed through. We quickly went to work, fighting off the wretched zombies. The gauntlet of mine was drastically dangerous to the beings. But more and more continued to appear, fighting in uncountable numbers.

Even so, they were no match for the strength of the soldiers who dwelled in the Mourningwood Fort. The lute player from earlier in particular showed great tenacity, smashing the skull of a hollow man with his instrument. The battle seemed to be looking up, me with stance next to Ben Finn; the monsters never stood a chance. We shared blows and aided each other's kills. We laughed as Ben's swing of his sword sent a hollow man's head flying into that of another skeleton.

Though our fun would not last long for as we looked to the side, we saw none other than the private being slashed open and falling limp into the dirt. "Jammy!" cried Ben. Anger carved the captain's features as he cut three hollowed men down to size within seconds. I casted one last look to the fallen soldier then continued on with the fight.

Soon the final one was dead once again and Swift proclaimed, "Victory! All hail the princess! Now who's for a pint?" the remaining soldiers gave a tired yet vigorous cheer. We turned and saw one last blue light of a wisp float in. It swiftly made its way to the crudely dug gravesite and implanted itself into the center grave.

A gruesome half-skeletal half-rotting hand shot through the recently disturbed dirt and yanked the rest of its body above ground. I drew my sword once again and watched in horror as the colossal remains stood. The corpse was missing its jaw so the rotted tongue lolled around, making the entirety of the monster even more disgusting. "Lieutenant Simmons!" shouted Major Swift commandingly, "I specifically instructed you to remain buried!"

Ben cried in exasperation, "Doesn't anyone follow orders anymore?"

The large structure of bones took a large inhale, as if he were breathing oxygen, and exhaled several other wisps. The spirits quickly took possession of the fallen troops and commanded them as vessels towards me. I had no choice but to defend those still living and did my best to stop these malicious ghosts. Once Simmons's small horde was defeated, I moved to defeat the evil at its source.

Because of the freshness of the corpse, the animated Lieutenant was not easily destroyed by my gauntlet alone. Each time my blade cleaved at him, dried blood and green liquid oozed from his wounds. I would not be deterred, though, and continued to lop off decaying limbs. It was not until one final fiery blast did the deceased commander erupted into a combination of dried blood and deteriorating fleshy parts.

By the time of Simmons's death, the sun had begun to rise again, painting the sky a collection of pink and gold hues. I walked back to Walter, finding him standing next to the Major and Captain. Ben was the first to speak, giving me a large grin as he admitted, "That was pretty damn impressive!" I returned the smile. "So, your father wasn't the last Hero of Albion after all."

Major Swift spread his arms to the remainder of the men and bellowed, "We did it! No really, we did!"

"Let the poets tell our epic tale," Ben said. "The Swift brigade fought against impossible odds… they won… the end." Finn turned to my mentor and praised, "Well, Sir Walter, you didn't do too bad. For an old man."

Walter chuckled and retorted, "Neither did you… for a buffoon." They both laughed good-naturedly, and then Ben turned to celebrate with the other men. I decided that Ben was a man I could whole-heartedly trust without any ounce of doubt. Sure, he was cocky and a jokester, but he was brave and good-natured, and I would take that over serious and tactical any day. I had Walter for that anyhow.

"Ah," Swift began. "That was just like old times Walter. Just like old times."

"So, what do you say? Will you join us?" Walter asked. "With your help we can put a stop to Logan's madness. Bring back the real Albion army."

The general looked skeptical and spoke harshly, "I swore to serve my king to the death. We all did." Swift sighed and continued, turning towards me, "But this isn't the way it was meant to be. The Old Guard has been shoved aside and these new soldiers Logan's been gathering; they don't care about this land or its people."

Ben, who had appeared by my side once again, muttered, "Yeah, and I bet they get paid more..."

"Walter has absolute faith in you, and after seeing you in action, so do I." Swifts stern face broke into a warm smile, causing me to do the same. "All I ask is that you make a soldier's oath." I nodded and stepped forward. "Let your armies protect the people instead of oppressing them. Bring honor back to this uniform."

"Yeah and don't forget the pay raise." Interjected Finn.

Walter muttered with exasperation, "Shut up Ben."

I smiled wide and shook Swift's hand and promised to keep true to his wishes. A moment after, the world stopped, as it had done in the Hobbe cave, and Theresa spoke once again in my head. Although I could not see the blind women's face, I could hear the near-joy in her voice as she said, "This has been a momentous day. With the support of Major Swift and his soldiers, the revolution grows in strength. And you are one step closer to becoming the leader this kingdom needs." She faded away and time continued with Swift still shaking my hand vigorously and Walter beaming at me.

"Then it's settled." Walter began. "We're heading back to Bowerstone now. There are some people there I'm hoping will join us. We'll send for you when we're ready."

Swift took another deep inhale of his pipe and nodded, "Then I shall bid you good luck and farewell and all that." He waved his hand dismissively.

"And just try not to get the rest of these lads killed, will you?" Said Walter seriously. "We're going to need you all."

Ben chuckled, "You always know what to say to keep moral up, Wally. Now get outta here."

"Farewell my friends." Smiled Walter, turning to me. "Come on, you did good today, but we're just getting warmed up." We exited out the back of the fort and traveled along the musty path towards the sewers to Bowerstone. Even though the thought of the revolting stenches I would encounter made my stomach threaten to dump its contents, I understood the reason for that passageway in.

We were wanted. Logan's soldiers would be on the alert for us. Swift's men and the general army were the exception; the King's royal guards were of a different breed and would not be so kind. The tunnels underneath the city lead to the heart of Bowerstone Industrial and was the safest and most inconspicuous entrance. But in order to be sure that I wouldn't be spotted easily, I needed a change of clothes.

Before I had left the fort, there was a soldier there with quite a hand for sewing. He modified the renegade uniform from Jimmy and fitted it to myself. The pants were cut into shorts, to allow the freedom of leg movement. He trimmed the jacket down and cropped it short, adding the flare of the uniformed soldiers to the buttons and shoulders. It was far from the regal apparel I had adorned previously and provided less restriction.

We were no longer in danger in Mourningwood, as the sun shone brightly in the sky. Further down the path we came across a small village of what Logan used to refer to as "marsh dwellers." My brother despised their nature loving attitude that looked to halt the industrialization of the country at every turn. Although these people spoke truth of beauty and love, he took none of it due to his impression that the minds of these people were addled by their consumption of forest mushrooms.

Even so, they were more than decent to me, offering food and hot tea, as well as a place to stay for the coming night. I respectfully declined their offer and moved on only a little farther to where Walter and I found the opening of the large sewer entrance. The stench that was emitted made me gag and wrap my arm over my nose. I wondered how these people lived in such proximity to the horrid smells of the people's waste day in and day out.

"This is it." Walter said matter of fact. "the golden gate to Bowerstone. You know what they say, all sewers lead home."