Chapter 14: The March on Sleepywood
Two days had past. Two long days. Kiltan looked up, his gaze breaking through the dry, dusty cloud that hung over Henesys, and stared at the Tree of Victoria.
All around him, the men were gathered in small groups, chatting amongst themselves as they sat on small piles of rubble and wooden crates. As hard as they tried, the quivering fear in their voices could still be heard. Today, they would finally strike at Sleepywood itself, and whatever lurked within its cavernous hole.
Through the dust, Kiltan could see Hines and the Dark Lord approaching him. Scratching his head, he rose to greet them. "Is it time to go?" He asked. Hines nodded. "I will go gather the men. We will leave in an hour."
Kiltan walked back to his tent and lightly shook Heera. "It's time to go." He softly said. Then, he left and headed towards the nearby stream, as Heera suited up in her armor.
He did not tell anyone, but for the past few days, ever since he had left Ellinia, he had been having a splitting headache. He quickened his pace and let himself fall into the stream, allowing the cold, refreshing water to flow through his body. But it did little to help with his headache. He rubbed his hands on his temples as he staggered back to Henesys.
Dripping wet, he entered his tent and dried himself up. Outside, he heard the men assembling at the northern Henesys gate. Slipping his claw on, he headed out the door and met up with Heera and Leiguin.
"For the human race of Victoria. Let's end this battle now." Hines said, and with a simple nod, he led the men forward. As they started towards the north road that led towards Sleepywood, the men were thrown into darkness. Though the trees were few and scares, they seemed to rise higher then usual, their skeletal branches reaching up and clutching at the sun, strangling its light away from the paths. Dry dead leaves crackled underfoot as the men stepped forward, and no other sound could be heard.
"The Barlog has drained the Tree of its life, and now it sucks the life out of the surroundings." Kiltan muttered. "And if we do nothing, then this will be how the rest of Victoria will look like." Hines replied. "Be careful as we advance, the Barlog has regained its strength."
Kiltan silently continued forward. His headache continued, yet he did not feel faint or tired, but instead he felt strong and powerful. His feet continued to push him onward, and he felt an odd sense of calm. Around him, he could hear the deep, fearful breaths of the men around him. They were scared, but he was not. A thin smile spread across his lips, as he thought of them, cowering in fear before the Barlog, weak pathetic people who were destined to die under the claws of an evil lord.
Suddenly, he stopped, and he clasped his face in his cold hands. Heera grabbed him just before he dropped to the ground. "What is it?" Heera asked, her face filled with confusion and fear. Hines and the Dark Lord ran over to Kiltan, but he struggled to his feet and nodded that he was fine. "It's just a little headache." He mumbled, "It's nothing."
Skeptically, Hines and the Dark Lord returned to the front of the army, continuing to led the men towards Sleepywood, but every once in a while turned their glance back to him. Leiguin cast a quick healing on Kiltan, and helped him up. "Are you feeling better?" He asked. Kiltan nodded, and beckoned for them to go forward first.
As soon as they left his sight, Kiltan quickly stumbled into the forest, his hand wildly breaking through the branches before him. Finally, he fell to his knees and vomited, before finally falling to the ground, breathing heavily. The Barlog, he thought. It's doing this to me. "You will never take me!" He cried out, and drew out a star and madly flung it as far as he could towards the Tree. But it barely flew before falling lightly to the ground into a pile of dead leaves. Kiltan drew back his trembling hands and covered his mouth as he fell into a fit of terrible coughs. Finally, he dropped his hand to the ground, and saw that it was stain with his blood.
In the distance, he heard his name being called. Quickly, he wiped away the blood on a nearby tree, and walked towards the voices. "Where did you go?" came the worried voice of Heera through the trees, just as she caught sight of him.
"I was… I just needed to go to the toilet." Kiltan replied. "You know I'm worried about you! How could you just leave like that?" Heera cried. Kiltan stepped up to her and held her tightly in his arms. "It's alright. There's nothing to worry about. We will go on with the journey, and we will destroy the Barlog, and end this forever."
Silently, they began heading back towards the path, and caught up to the men. It was not long before they slowed down, eventually to a stop. Kiltan and Heera walked to the front, and stood besides Hines and the Dark Lord. Just in front of them, looming like a huge black hole, was the entrance to Sleepywood. Its walls, once a rich brown healthy color, were now black like ash, peeling off and crumbling onto the ground. And at the entrance of the hole, the decomposing body of Luke still laid on the ground, his stomach ripped apart in a bloody mess, a small sign of the death that lay within the Tree.
Hines slowly led the men around the carcass. They tried not to look, but the stench filled their nose, and they hurriedly pushed forward. But once they entered, they were not sure if they would rather be outside with the dead body, in inside the empty hollow tree that was once Sleepywood. It was dark, so dark that the pale gloomy sunlight outside seemed glaring. In here, it was still and quiet. The men stood together in a tight circle within the lower grounds of Sleepywood. Hines stood at the front, and he raised his staff high, and chanted a string of mystical words. His staff began to glow with a blinding light, illuminating Sleepywood in its radiance.
Immediately, high pitched shrieks could be heard echoing along the dark walls. Scuttling feet desperately dashed to wherever the light did not penetrate, huddling in small shadowy corners. Hines advanced forward, his staff still held high. "Show yourselves, you evil demons!" He shouted, and muffled rustlings were the only sounds that replied his strong voice. "Come out, and let justice be down upon those who have done wrong!" He shouted again. But this time, only his echo replied him.
"Their not gone." He said, as he turned back to the men, who still stood close to each other. "I can feel them, hiding in the shadows. They fear light. Come, all you clerics. Unleash your holy light, and let us destroy these cowardly creatures!"
And all the clerics, about ten in total, walked up to Hines, and raised their staffs and wands. Together, their weapons began to glow like a huge fire, except that the men did not feel a burning heat, but a soothing warm radiance that they embraced with peace and calm. They felt safe under the protection of the light, away from the mysterious shadows that seemed to creep about in the thin corners of Sleepywood, staring at them with hateful eyes, but not daring to approach.
"We split up into groups of two." Hines said to the clerics. "Each group will take a few men, and we will comb through Sleepywood. Only when you are sure that there are no more creatures lurking around, do you return here."
Kiltan and Heera followed Leiguin, who had paired up with a younger cleric, named Ilrias. A few other warriors and thieves followed them, and they began to head towards the Sleepywood Hotel.
Kiltan walked up to Leiguin and spoke softly, such that the other men could not hear him. "Can you still feel the dark powers in this place? It's the same feeling I had when I was here those many days ago." He asked. Leiguin silently nodded. "But this time, we are not alone. We have brought men. We are stronger now. We are so close to finally destroying the Barlog forever, we cannot give up now."
"Yes, but, do you remember the phantom? That dark creature, or demon, or whatever it was. I used to only remember it as a bad dream, but now that I've returned here, it has come back to me. It's real, not just something I imagined. It's a strong demon of great power, and I can feel it watching over us all."
"What are you talking about?" Leiguin replied, his lips quivering slightly. "There is no such thing. It was a simple quake that brought down Sleepywood, and now the foul servants of the Barlog have come to occupy this place. There is no…evil phantom. All that lurks in this place are small, mindless creatures who have been living amongst the rotting corpses. We can kill them easily."
"But you saw the phantom itself!" Kiltan's voice rose, but immediately died down to a whisper again as he noticed some of the men looking suspiciously at him. "It possessed Heera. It was what drove us all to fear. How could you not feel it? You, a cleric of holy powers, should be able to sense this dark force!"
"That was not a phantom. Heera was tired and hurt, and she grew mad under the stress on her body, and the surroundings of death. Yes, this place reeks with death and pain, but no, there is no great evil power that I can sense. It's all a mind game that the Barlog is trying to play on us, nothing more."
Kiltan did not reply, but the feeling of being watched was overwhelming. He did not know what it was, but he could feel that it was strong and powerful, a great servant of the Barlog. No, Leiguin had to be wrong. He knew he was right, that there was something wrong here, not just small creatures that feasted on the dead carcasses. He slowed his pace and Heera caught up to him. "I don't feel right about this." He mumbled to her.
"Kiltan, you know that you were almost taken over by the Barlog. It still has a hold on you, though it might be weak. Are you sure that you are ok?" Heera asked, a concerned stare looking at the pale face of Kiltan. "Come, if you do not feel well, then we must leave."
As she reached for his hand, Kiltan pushed her away. "I'm fine! Leave me alone!" He shouted at her, his loud voice stunning the men near him, for it had been nearly total quiet before. Leiguin ran up to them, but before he could begin speaking, the scattered rustling sounds from the shadows could be heard again, but this time much louder, and heavier.
To the left, a group of men began to cautiously approach the bushes where the noise came from, with a cleric leading them. But a creak came from Kiltan's right, and he turned around. Slowly, he saw the doors of the Sleepywood hotel swing open, and he drew his stars. The thin sheathing of swords rang softly, as the men concentrated on the movement of the door. From the black shadows within, something stirred.
A light scampering feet was approaching the door from within. Through the thin opening between the doors, Kiltan saw something small appear. Just as it reached the door, he flung a star at it, and a pained squeak was heard, before the body of a small rat, with Kiltan's star struck into its side, rolled out onto the dry grass patch before the Hotel.
Leiguin laughed, but it was a forced laughter, which tried to break the tense mood that hung over the men. Slowly, they all gave short, weak laughs, and Kiltan kept his stars. "You were all scared too!" He said to them, also trying to force a smile.
It was at this moment, at which Leiguin lost a blink of concentration on the Hotel, that his light dimmed ever so slightly, once again shrouding the Hotel in a shadowy curtain. A horrible scream pierced the dry air, and the men were taken aback, a sharp chill running through their skins. Kiltan quickly tried to draw out his stars again, but in his sudden movement, he stumbled and fell to the ground. Another shriek and Leiguin quickly turned to the Hotel, desperately trying to bring back his glowing light.
But it was too late. He could not react in time, before he saw a dark object fly towards him, knocking him to the ground, and his staff rolled away from his hands. Ilrias charged up a ball of fire, but he too was knocked down by a blinding shadowy object. Over to the side of the Hotel, where the men were inspecting the bushes, there came a loud cry. As the men turned to look at what had happened, they saw one of the men being dragged into the bushes. The cleric there tried to grab for his legs, but as he pulled at it, only decapitated limb of the man broke off. In horror, the cleric pushed himself away from the bloody limb.
"Defend yourselves!" Hines shouted. Immediately, the sharp ring of metal was heard, followed almost instantaneously by the sound of those swords smashing into bones. Hines recited a chant, but nothing happened. Instead, the light from his staff seemed to grow dimmer, and the same with the rest of the clerics. Only thin, barely visible flickers were left glowing on their staffs, which did not provide enough light for the men. Loud screams were heard in the darkness, and the men cowered, fear stricken, and prayed that they would not die. All around them, the men who still had the courage to fight were of little more use, for they simply swung their weapons wildly, unable to see where the enemy was. Kiltan groped around the floor, looking for Heera, trying to call her name over the screams.
Eventually, his hand rested on hers, and he pulled her towards him. But her hand was cold, and as he reached up her arm, he felt the sticky blood which was clotting around the upper arm. A severed arm was what he had grabbed, and he shoved it away in disgust. Desperately calling for her again, he crawled his way across the ground, his skin brushing against the dead grass.
Over the shouts of fear and pain, Hines raised his voice high, and he shouted a mighty magical chant. He slowly felt the suppressive darkness cracking, before finally receding away, and his light shone out bright again. He could now see what was around him.
The men were scattered across the ground, most with broken limbs and deep wounds across their bodies. And standing around them, were many Cold Eyes. But they were different, not like the small little creatures that lurked within the caves. Their white fur seemed to glow with an even more radiant brightness under the light. Even in the stale air, their fur seemed to float about, like misty tendrils.
Deep, cold hisses escaped their dry lips, flowing softly through their glistering teeth which shone in the light. Slowly, they backed away, crouching low and melting back into the shadows. But Hines would not let them escape, and from his staff erupted a fiery bow and arrow, burning with magical powers. He shot off many arrows, striking down the Cold Eyes, who were beginning to scatter, fleeing in panic towards the entrance of the caves below.
"So, is this weak army of puny creatures all that the Barlog has for a defense?" Hines shouted after the creatures, and began to advance after them. But he suddenly stopped, and the few men who were not injured stood behind him, and saw the figure approach.
"Do not worry, Hines. That attack was merely a welcoming gift. You have yet to see the true potential of my master, the Barlog of Victoria." The hissing voice came from the dark, clocked shape. It looked like a man, yet no so human in an odd way. It moved like a shadow, lightly breezing over the ground, soft and slowly, barely making a sound. "I admire your courage, but here, there is nothing more for you other then death." It hissed.
"Who are you!" The Dark Lord shouted, as he walked up to Hines and stood besides him. But the figure simply stood there, its face hidden from view. For a while, they simply stood there, not moving, waiting for it to respond. "If you are of no use to us, then die!" The Dark Lord shouted again, and he flung two stars at the figure, which still did not move.
The stars struck the figure in the chest, tearing through its cloak. However, it flew right through the figure, and struck the wall behind it. "You think you can kill me?" it began to speak again, and it slowly broke into an evil laughter. "You wish to know who I am. I have no name, I am no one, and I only serve the Barlog."
It began to raise its arms, and from the dark caves behind it emerged other dark figures. Hines light began to dim once again, as he felt an even greater shadowy grip closing in on his powers. In what little light was left, the men could just make out the shapes of many humans shapes stumbling slowly towards them.
"Do you remember these people? They fought alongside you in the battle, but now they only obey the Barlog. Witness my master's army of the dead!" The cloaked figure shrieked.
"Do not stand in our way, you evil servant of darkness!" Hines shouted, and with all his might, he tried to summon a bow of holy light. But the grip was too strong, and he felt weak. He could only stare through the graying darkness at the advancing army of what was once their comrades in battle, now turned into mindless zombies, serving the Barlog's evil will.
"Regroup the men! Do not fear them!" Hines replied, and the Dark Lord began to fling stars and the approaching zombies. Hines looked back at the cloaked figure, and raised his staff in a desperate final attempt to attack it. But suddenly, in a blue flash, the figure appeared right before him. He could now see the figure, the rotting smell of its flesh, and the dry hiss as it breathed through two decomposing holes on its rotten face.
Slowly, its boney fingers reached up, and it drew back its hood. It was a man, but hardly recognizable, for only thin slices of flesh and hair still clung to his face like webs. It stared at Hines through dark, empty sockets. "I can see you." It slowly whispered through its gaping hole of a mouth.
In the fading light, Hines caught a glimpse of a thin sparkle from its neck. It was a slender golden chain, hanging around the long neck of the figure. At the end of the chain, was a pale silver sphere, with ancient letterings engraved all around it. They were ancient magical words, powerful chants of ancient times. He could remember them.
With a gasp, Hines dropped his staff, and the men were thrown into darkness once again as his light blew out. Hines could here the shouts around him, but they seemed far away, and he was alone, with the leader of the dead before him. "Fear. The feeble weakness of a human mind. See your men cower under my powers." It hissed, as it drew out a thin, pale blade from its side.
"No. It cannot be. That is the mark of the mages of Ellinia." Hines said, as his trembling hands pointed at the silver sphere, which still seemed to glow lightly in the darkness. Slowly, the figure drew backwards, and raised its blade high, while Hines could only stare at it.
But it suddenly fell back in pain as a wide blinding light shot out from the darkness. "I had escaped your treachery before, and this time I will defeat it!" Leiguin shouted, with his staff glowing brightly. He whipped around as he heard a sound coming from the entrance of Sleepywood. There, like a shadow against the thin light outside, stood Luke, with internal entrails still hanging out from his stomach like dead snakes.
With his spear by his side, Luke blindly charged forward, his eyes glowing with unholy fire through his helmet. With a shout, Leiguin shot off a holy arrow at the charging zombie. It struck him in the head, piercing right through his helmet. But that did not stop him. He continued to charge forward, and his head dropped off, falling to the ground with the arrow still stuck in it. The headless zombie raised his spear as he reached Leiguin, and jabbed it at him with unnatural strength. It clipped Leiguin on the leg as he rolled away, and he shot off another holy arrow as he lay on the ground. This time, it pierced Luke in the chest, burning through his heart, and the zombie fell to the ground, finally dead.
"You took our lives, and now you are taking our dead." Leiguin spoke through his pursed lips. He raised his eyes to the leader of the dead, who was shielding its eyes from the light, its blade still in its hand. "Kiltan was right. There was an evil phantom lurking about. Do you remember me? You ran away from me the last time we met. Now, I won't let you escape again. You shall pay for your evil deeds." And Leiguin raised his staff, and drew back two holy arrows.
"Don't kill him!" Hines shouted, and he jumped in front the human creature, shielding it with his body. "This creature is my father, Haldur. He bears the ancient mark of the mages of Ellinia. I thought he had died, but he had simply fallen to the Barlog during the First War. Don't kill him, please. Let me try and help him."
As Leiguin lowered his arrows, Hines turned around, and saw the boney figure hiding in his shadow. "Father, do not let the Barlog cloud your mind any longer. We have come to kill it, and no longer will you have to live in fear under its power. Will you join-"
Hines did not finish his sentence. Haldur stood up, and its thin, old figure suddenly seemed to overshadow Hines. It screeched from its dry throat, as it swung it's blade at Hines. Quickly grasping his staff tightly, Hines gave a quick chant and teleported away. He fell to the ground some distance away, and looked back at his father. He saw the blade which it had attacked him with, and realized that it was no longer the pale grey color that he had seen it was before. The tip was now stained red, dripping with blood. A thin smile drew across its face as it looked at Hines. "Do you not realize the power of the Barlog? Do you see how powerful I am?"
Hines began to choke, as he grabbed at his throat. He slowly slumped onto the ground, and raised his hand, which was now covered with his own blood. "Father, don't do this." He croaked, as he felt the warm trickle of blood dripping from his throat and onto the grass.
"I'm sorry, Hines, but there is no hope for your father. He has been driven mad with power, and the Barlog controls him. I'm sorry, but this must be done." Leiguin said, and he stood before Haldur, his staff raised.
"Do you still think that you can kill me?" It slowly spoke, staring mockingly down on Leiguin. "I have killed your leader, what more can you do?"
"No." Leiguin replied. "You did not kill my leader, you killed your son. And I will avenge his death, and the deaths of all my fellow men. I have something you don't have. I have a will to defend my people."
And with that, Leiguin smashed his staff into the ground, and the light erupted outwards in a brilliant nova, tearing away at the shadows, filling the cavernous tree with holy light. A powerful spiral of wind circled around him, blowing like a small storm of magical powers that sucked out the powers out of all evil beings around him.
Haldur screamed in pain, as the light burned away what was left of his flesh, and the wind tore at him like a hundred ravaged beast. His bones began to break into a fine dust, blowing about in the magical storm. The zombie army too was struck down in the storm, their unholy life source sucked away in the swirling vortex, and they collapsed into nothing more then a dead human carcass.
Slowly, Leiguin lowered his staff, and the storm died down. He collapsed onto his knees, as the fine ash of the undead leader drifted around him like snow. "It is over." He muttered, and collapsed to the ground.
"Hines!" Heera screamed, as she ran over to his motionless body, with the Dark Lord following behind. She placed her fingers on his neck, and felt the warm blood seeping around her fingers. "Wait! He's still alive!" Heera shouted, as Hines began to cough softly. "Someone come and help him! Bring him back to Henesys!"
"His cut is not too deep. He will survive if he gets medical aid." The Dark Lord said, as he ran his fingers along the cut. Around him, nearly half of the men that had come were dead, scattered across the grounds, with horrible wounds cut deep into their bodies. Their hands were raised up, covering their eyes, and they were curled up in a tight ball, trying to hide from the terrors that had surrounded them. "They were stricken with fear. That was the powers of Haldur. He blinded them, leaving them defenseless against his undead army."
A few men ran up to Hines, and they made a rough stretcher from branches and their armors. "Help the wounded back to Henesys. Leave the dead, we will return for them later." The Dark Lord shouted to the men. He then walked over to Leiguin, who was still lying on the ground. "He is unconscious. We will need two people to carry him back."
"And what about the Barlog? Do we proceed ourselves, or bring along the remaining men?" Cassandra asked, as she hobbled back to the group. "I don't think that any of these men wish for further fighting." The Dark Lord replied, as he returned after organizing the men. "They will also be of little use when faced with the might of the Barlog itself. If we go, we will have to proceed on our own. Come, let us gather the rest, and then we will set off."
"Well, apart from Leiguin, the rest of us should be around here." Cassandra replied. But at this point, Heera came running back to the group. "Has anyone seen Kiltan?"