Atop the city walls, he squatted there, seemingly staring at the vast jungle, however he was conscious of the images in his mind only. Asking that the preparations be orderly was unnecessary as far as the military was concerned, but as for citizens it was simply a kind gesture. The world was a blur to Rathnial, military personnel scurried back and forth, while himself moved in slow motion. Considering everything, his position at the moment would be the best, waiting.
Rathnial stood and then felt a hand on his shoulder. Knowing it was Victoria by the goose bumps he felt along his right arm. Turning to see her he said, "Hey," and they embraced each other for a moment. "I thought you were posted."
She shook her head and smiled slightly, "No, I was only ordered to check-in for a pre-conflict census…remember?"
"Oh," Rathnial made an expression equal to that of a man trying to wake up but failing. Having virtually no sleep, his assembly with the Queen couldn't have been possible without the natural chemical of adrenaline. At this moment, the Necromancer could have taken the Endephila leaf, a energy boosting drug, offered by the Queen. It was natural for him to depend upon his body alone, and one instinct he often regrets. "The blessing of rest was quickly taken away from me…I'm sure you understand."
"You and me both…" Victoria reached into her left pouch to retrieve two Endephila leaves, and gestured with her hand for Rathnial to accept them. "This is your chance to correct your mistake."
He didn't hesitate. Promptly chewing one leaf, he felt the surge and knew it was for the better. With renewed energy, he looked Victoria in the eyes and said, "I cannot stop you from what you feel you must do. When they come, whatever may happen to me shouldn't be your burden. I shall do all in my power to protect your people, and in turn I believe the same truth lays with you."
She looked back, seemingly saddened. "You're not a burden to me in the least. Although at first I felt you were out to leech my homeland. But that's all changed. I see the desperation in your eyes and the justice you seek, and I feel a warm connection between us. Somehow my place is with you, Rathnial. I feel it," she placed her right hand gently on his chest. "You feel it."
Rathnial stroked her smooth, youthful face. "Never have I felt so strongly towards a women, however the life that I live…"
Victoria placed her finger on his lips to stop him mid-sentence and gently kissed him. Rathnial feeling sparks generated by the energies given off by Victoria, both were locked in the moment. When they pulled away, Victoria looked into his eyes calmly and said, "When the war at last is won, I'm leaving with you."
"Victoria, how can we do this? It feels right but doesn't seem…it doesn't seem...
There was no time to finish. The frantic playing of the War Horns' high notes coincided with the wave of musky energy breaking into Rathnial's mind. Inaudible screams came from either civilians or military personal, he wasn't sure which, however he knew it was likely it came from both sides of the wall.
The rush of blood to his legs made every movement at that moment a slow-motion ride to Hell. When his eyes met the vast jungle behind him, the silent, incomprehensible evil mixture of skeletal beings moved at a steady, unwavering pace towards them. The Amazonian army had ceased it's movement along the wall and had taken positions atop the wall and the interior. Victoria following the same pattern, she took a position close to him.
He instinctively unsheathed his dagger, and began the incantation. Blade down, he place the dagger flat against his heart. The mumbled words were incoherent but nevertheless intense and rapid. Looking into his eyes, he was lost in himself. His world was now a blur. However, the adeptness at which he performed his amplifying damage curse denounces any insanity claims.
A deadly mist of explosive arrows bombarded the onslaught, and armored skeletons, marching out of the fog like a gray forest, crumbled and toppled to the ground. Nonetheless, no matter how many fell, the number was doubling with every consistent kill from growing numbers coming forth from behind. The possibility of the undead army reaching the wall was quickly becoming a reality, and the fall of one skeleton to the next combined with Rathnial's curse only slowed the advance. Athulua's defensive walls, once overwhelmed by the sheer number, would quickly become a gateway into the vulnerable inner-city.
The blood red glow of the undead legion's eyes could now be seen. Closer and closer they advanced. Summoned for one purpose, to destroy, the skeletons' only sound was a rhythmical thump, which compensated for the lack a terrifying warcry. The summoning force must have realized the importance of a vast number instead of the piecemeal organized attacks used for town raids, for the sheer number will virtually guarantee success.
The Necromancer continued desperately to decrepify the legion by to forming symbols in the air. However, Rathnial finally forced himself to face the grim reality. Nothing at Lycander's armament could dissipate the invasion. Nothing. Neighboring islands had refused to participate in what they felt were foreign affairs, and Lycander will now suffer the fruit of that selfishness.
The front line smacked into the wall as it was massive ram. He gripped the edge to regain in center of balance.
"Gods above save us!" A soldier yelled. The air was thick with an incredibly intense amount of desperation and blood currying screams "They're breaching, they're breaching!" Warriors could be seen deserting their position and running towards the shore in hopes of escape.
Their own attempts to save their lives triggered Rathnial to consider the next rational step. Glancing over at the undead creatures clawing with unearthly determination at the wall, he began to gather himself and asking his soul what must be done. He thought vigorously, not desiring to act upon impulse alone. For him, the outcome of remaining here would be suicide. There was nothing left for him here. He had done all a man, a Necromancer, could do, and the fate of Athulua and Lycander was now at the hands of the military and its people.
Subconsciously his eyes met Victoria's glassy and tired gaze. Expecting to see betrayal and anger, he instead saw the understanding of a warrior and the respect of women he loved.
Move. He needed to move. His dagger was sheathed and he descended the ladder slowly yet with a steady edge. When he reached the ground, a rush of despondency overcame him. He had failed. He had been a complete waste of Queen's time and money. Without him these people may have been better off, he had only attracted the demons to this location and most likely quickened their demise. This mission, as a whole, was an utter and complete failure, accomplishing nothing.
Rathnial was frozen in this state of mind. His legs functioned accordingly. Looking back wasn't an option, he was reassured of that fact.
Athulua was in a state of pre-destruction anarchy. The people had lost all faith in their country and military. The raids had taken their toll where demoralization was concerned. Men and women stole from markets what they could fill their arms with and at the moment and ran towards the shore. Children screamed where their parents had abandoned them. Royal Guards assigned to keep the peace had deserted their own duty and took advantage of their weaponry wherever a ship was overfilled or this or that citizen took the fruits they sought after.
Ships along the shore were literally being tipped over by the massive retreat of confused and terrorized people thinking of their survival alone. Captains had no choice but to preserve themselves by putting a bolt through this person and that.
Trag'Oul, his only sanctuary from his world within this time and place, hung steady around his neck.
Trag'Oul I have never needed you more than this day, this time and place, and in my entire existence on this mortal plain.
For a brief moment he saw himself where he stood as if he was looking through someone else and completing several circles in the region of himself. It was intoxicating. A drug grown only for self-destruction. This world. This horrible and sinful world was a blur.
"What is wrong with this wooooooooooorld?!" He scream was not his own, it was with the assistance of a godly presence.
A rush of raw energy filled with rage engulfed his essence. However, this was his own. It was the most intense feeling he had ever felt. Everything, everything he ever felt which was wrong or senseless created something new in Rathnial. It was a resolve.
He marched forward, and was unconscious of his destination. Something inside of him was driving him, ushering him forward. The world itself was falling around him in slow motion.
His cabin was boarded up and occupied by greedy souls. Upon entering, the incantation was made and three men fled the scene. Sealing the door behind him, Rathnial was in complete and total darkness. Wards were quickly created by the swift movement of his dagger and rapid fire verbalism. Once he was satisfied of the new security, he sat at the end of bed, his mind, his though, and the man known as Rathnial was in state unexplainable to anyone who hadn't witnessed his life in the first person. This is where he waited with his hands on his knees and head forward staring into nothing. He had no where to go. This is where he was. This is where he must be.
Footsteps sounded outside the cabin. It was of the military. For anyone else it would have been unidentifiable, yet for him it was the soothing feel of love. No other women could possibly give the feeling at the moment.
Victoria stormed into the cabin, seemingly knowing he would be here. She stared at him for a brief moment, at first not recognizing him for he was different. The facial structure and body shape were equivalent to the man she knew. Nevertheless, Rathnial was something more, for the energy around him could be sensed by the most insensate scum. Whether it was of light or the opposite, couldn't be determined by anyone other than himself.
Love and warmth broke the trance during the epigrammatic reencounter, for he looked into her direction. She needn't say a word. The Necromancer understood why she was here, what had failed, and what was inevitable.
Door bolted behind her, she sat next to him without saying a word. There would be no comfort from each other during his rumination. Victoria more or less took on the same state of mind, although not nearly as vividly as the man next to her.
Thud
Victoria's breathing pattern became more steady and more consistent with her own will, as she sought to calm herself. She wrapped her arms around Rathnial's torso, while he in turn put his right arm around her, never breaking his mind in the process.
Crash. Bump. Scratch. Pound. The noise grew in intensity.
Victoria held him in, becoming comforted in Rathinal's dreamlike state.
Boom, Boom, Boom. Scratch. Scratch. They were surrounded. Pound. Pound. Scratch. Pound. Scratch. Pound. Scratch. Pound. Scratch. Pound. They were breaking through.
Victoria looked into Rathnial's eyes.
Boom. Crack. Boom. Boom. Boom.
"Rathnial, I love you."
CRASH!
Like a tidal wave coming forth from Hell, they were upon them. It all happened so fast. There was no sound.
Everything went blank.
Then there was music. They were in enlightened place. However, they could see nothing but white light.
"Rathnial, wake up."
He opened his eyes to a blinding white glow.
"Rathnial, it's over. Wake up."
He blinked twice, unaware of his surroundings. Then, he saw her face, and a rush of sweet, refreshing energy swept over him. It didn't matter where he was. She was there.
"Victoria…where are we?"
"In Athulua…Rathnial we made it."
With that, Rathinal lifted his head up from the bed and examined his surroundings. It was the morning after. The cabin had been destroyed on the right side, and remnant pieces of bone scattered the floor. It was unusual for they were charred.
"How did we…"
She smiled. "Philios militia decided it best to forget our differences. They saved us just before we became completely overrun."
Rathnial looked to see a small group of Amazonian women in colors of dark green slowly marching around the city the now sun lit ground, and people cheering and celebrating all around. A few simply starred solemnly into the cabin they, apparently, saved moments before. The sun that shone that day was the light unseen for months, triggering much happiness all around. It was a paradise. The devastation wasn't noticeable to human, for today was today.
There is no way…
He felt his Trag'Oul pendent, it felt as if it had it had been burning in fire for hours, for Rathnial immediately released his hand and quickly examined the damage to his palm, nonetheless finding it unblemished. That is when he knew the truth. That's when he knew what really had occurred moments before. If Lycander's militia was unsuccessful in defending itself, Philios would have the same story. Yes, an unearthly hand played a role here today. He had no desire to ruin the celebration or discredit the Philios, therefore he kept the knowledge to himself for the moment.
Thank you, Oh Great Dragon Trag'Oul
He gazed into her eyes. Suddenly he felt as if an entire planet had been lifted off of his skull, and he had been given the gift of flight. Life. He was alive. He took in a breath of victory. The entire world seemed light as a feather, and then he began to wonder what drug he had been given, although he doubted in the same respect he had been feed anything abnormal. Then, he smiled the most wonderful movement of his lips he had ever taken, it was the smile of victory, of his great accomplishment, and passionately said, "Victoria, I love you." With that, he took grab her and kissed her as if he hadn't seen her in a lifetime.
The couple was seen entering a private, untouched bedroom. No one had any reason to disturb them for the time they were, at last, to themselves. Time passed without a clock, and the celebration remained strong.
Everything was perfect, finally, everything was at peace. The army was destroyed, everyone was at ease, life could continue as it should be. The Barbarian tribes could live in peace as well, the undead would never terrorize this land for all time, for the amulet...the amulet…
Rathnial received this realization abruptly during his changing of cloaks, for he halted his movements. "Rathinal, what's wrong?"
He swivelled his body around to face her, she was still in her white, military-issued undershirt, which she was in the process of changing when he sensed his distress. The sudden change of energy of positive to negative made her heart skip a beat. Staring at her with renewed intensity, he said with the utmost vigor with a touch of fear, "We are not free yet, my dear."
Once again, their bodies were put to the test, as well as the Herbalies, which were about to receive the most brutal treatment for the most desperate cause yet. Shaken out of their slumber, the Herbalies had the pleasure of two humans rudely in need of their assistance. However, they seemed to sense the urgency before the two entered the stable. Beginner colts given to Rathnial, he was ready simultaneously with Victoria and they galloped towards the target, a target with a living ticker built in.
Citizens, rejoicing in their newfound joy, were unaware of possibility they may relive the nightmare. Not the thought didn't appear in some worrying minds, nonetheless it wasn't spoken by any tongue. Not that anyone could blame them. Rathnial was, in his own silent way, moderately jealous of their nativity, wishing he could share in their carelessness.
He struggled to reassure himself of the simple assignment at hand. However, the resolve in him, this decree had much more to it. He couldn't deny himself that. He was absolutely positive this would be the final stage in his mission here, in Lycander, and for the Amazonian people. Before, subconsciously he knew it wasn't the conclusion. Now, this was the last hurrah. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake the gloom, the unseen finalization he so desperately endeavored.
The air was uneasy, in a way struggling to understand what had occurred hours before. Barbarian citizens were equally wary of the newcomers, some could be seen stroking the weapons at their side. More than anything, Rathnial felt the unmistakable aura of guilt. Following the trail, and the memory of his dream, he came across the tent.
Rathnial demounted, and entered the tent without warning, Victoria following the actions, both felt the justification of such an abrupt entrance. The primate sat there gazing in the fire without glancing up, somehow he expected this and even predicted such details as fine as the makeup of both their faces.
Gugan began to open his mouth but was cut off instantaneously.
"Silence you inconceivable fool! When you earn the right to speak to me I won't even let you know," Rathnial allowed every unjust event which occurred in Lycander to flow through his words.
Gugan chuckled to intimidate the newcomers. However, both Victoria and Rathnial sensed the fear in his attempt. "I'm sure my guards will see it differently, Rathnial." Apparently, ambassadors had informed him of the Necromancer's name.
"No, Gugan, your guards are nowhere to be found. Cowardice must flow smoothly in this pit."
The Chieftain shook his head slowly, realizing what the Necromancer had done. "I am not responsible for the raids! Why do you people…"
"'Raids'? You call the near destruction of Athulua a 'raid'? How about invasion?" Victoria said with clear frustration, for her crossbow trigger was becoming itchy.
Rathnial marched up close to Gugan and pointed to the pulsating amulet to the right. "What is this, Gugan? Why is this here?"
"It's our ancestral amulet, and it's very sacred to us. What is the matter?"
Rathnial stopped himself from yelling at the man, and instead replied with the speech he had been preparing for a great deal of time. "This amulet is the source of everything that has gone wrong in Lycander for the past few months. When you migrated here from the cold mountains of the Barbarian highlands, you brought with your people this ancestral amulet in hopes of holding on to some of the practices of your former land. However, you ignored the warnings of your elders and shoved this into your packing material regardless. Thus, the spirits associated with this amulet became confused and angry, as your elders prophesied. They reincarnated themselves on the mortal realm, and sought out whom they considered invaders of their homeland. Therefore, your naivety permitted such events to being."
Gugan's mouth hung open, unable to speak. "This can't be…"
Rathnial dismissed the comment. "You know it's true. You even ignored your own soul. Your foolish and selfish act has brought so much suffering upon the Amazon people." He pointed towards the amulet. "Simply by burning the waste everything would have been different." He raised one eyebrow and half-grinned. "Your apology had better be extraordinary. I was not here to determine the vengeance of my love's people."
Victoria shifted the weight of her crossbow, taken pleasure in the now uncomfortable stance of the Chieftain.
Suddenly, a massive energy swept through Rathnial. It was the same energy he sensed before.
Trag'Oul
The amulet began to pulsate the amber color with renewed intensity.
The world took on a slow-motion twist, and an undeniable feeling of duty combined with sadness radiated off of Rathnial.
He unsheathed his dagger and faced the amulet. The amulet now seemed as it would shatter in a billion bits in a millisecond.
Slowly he turned towards, Victoria. She wouldn't allow a tear until Rathnial at last nodded his head.
"Oh, Rathnial. No! No! It can't be the way."
Dagger flat against his chest, an aura swirled around him. Amber seemed to be fighting with the dark green coloring, twisting and splashing against each other.
"It is the only way. It needs this sacrifice or Lycander will become but a crater in the Earth." Victoria dropped her crossbow and ran towards him, however, Rathnial extended his hand to stop her. "Stand back."
"No, Rathnial! This can't be happening to me!"
He pointed towards her stomach. "Tell my child who I was and what my self-righteous suicide permitted. Freedom."
With that he looked to the sky, and he vanished in a blaze of fire.
"Nooooooooooooo!" Victoria's scream echoed throughout the entire camp, some say she could be heard in Athulua. The amulet shattered in a billion bites.
On the ground, she wept. Rage and confusion developed her moans of agony. She was lost in herself.
Gugan stood. "Heh. The man was a fool. I prayed for all these deaths. You people should have moved out. This is our land now."
Victoria glared up at him. Gugan quickly realizing his fatal mistake. She lifted the cross up and aimed for the chieftain's neck.
"No, no, no! Wait! I can explain."
"Explain it in Hell."
His blood splashed against the tent fabric behind him.
Victoria stepped outside the tent, and gazed at the sun, and stroked her midsection. When their child grew old enough, she would explain to the child whom its father was. He was the liberator of the Lycander people. One who selflessly sacrificed his life for others. She managed a smile. Others may praise Philios and their militia, however, she would always know whom was the real savior, a man named Rathnial Dizharen.
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Recommended listening after you finish: Here To Stay Remix by Korn
