Chapter 9 - The threat from within
Dalrus was the first to hear them. Screams. Coming from the city, no less. He quickly jumped off his bed and stared out through the window. The road leading up to the city was very dark, but that was not where he had heard the screams coming from. Without even thinking, he grabbed his belt - which had his daggers and throwing stars - along with his clothes, and ran out through the hall. He had already put on his boots and cloak by the time he heard his father and brother coming down the stairs. "You heard too?" He said as the two came into view from the top. "It came from the wall!"
"Aye. You stay put here, your brother and I are going to investigate." Kalthuz declared, throwing a jacket over his shoulders and hoisting his sword belt. Felrus was clad similarly, except he also sported his shield over his back.
"What? No! I'm coming with you!" Dalrus declared, already making his way towards the door. He almost instinctively dodged his father's hands as he felt the man grab him by the shoulders and twist him around to face him. "No." He sternly said. "You stay here and take care of your mother, Dalrus. I need to know she is safe while your brother and I are out investigating. Understood?"
The boy furrowed his brows in desperation. He felt Felrus' hand on his arm, and turned to face his brother. "Dal, please." He said. "Listen to father. I, too, would feel much safer knowing you're here with her. If somehow the undead managed to invade the city, you're our best hope of keeping her safe."
The boy began to say something, then caught himself. Biting his lip, he lowered his head and nodded silently. "Good boy." His father said. "We will give word as soon as we know what's going on." And with that, they both left, leaving Dalrus behind. He watched through the window as they climbed onto their horses and set off towards the wall, heading for the bridge to the west to reach the wall as soon as possible.
Dalrus curled his hands into fists and punched the wooden frame surrounding the glass in frustration. "Gods be damned... Am I supposed to just wait...?" He whispered, feeling helpless as his brother and father vanished in the dark night. He sighed and began to pace restlessly back and forth around the room, trying to guess what was going on. Maybe the scourge had unleashed a new weapon? Some sort of titanic monstrosity so powerful it could survive in Arugal's magical field? Or maybe some new threat? He couldn't even begin to imagine. After about ten minutes, he threw his arms up in frustration and was about to head back upstairs when he heard the screams again... Except this time, they were coming from the city.
Dalrus froze where he stood, then turned around. Could the undead have truly broken through? If so, he would need to find a safe spot to keep his mother... Then again, if the wall had fallen, hiding wouldn't do much good as they would all be doomed anyway. He could now see there were people coming out of the city, most on foot, some on horseback. The boy quickly ran outside and sprinted towards the road. Approaching one of the people who ran - a woman holding an infant boy - he asked: "What's going on? Why are you running?"
Without even slowing down - and Dalrus having to run to keep up with her - the woman frantically replied - "The undead... They're here! The soldiers... They turned! The injured and the dead, they all began to rise and attack us!" Dalrus stopped where he was and let them go, his gaze shifting back to the city. He could hear more screams now... Taking a deep breath, he tugged on his cloak, pulling the hood on so it would cover his head and began running back the way those people came.
It barely took him a few minutes to get there, but he could see chaos was already well spread. Arriving on Greymane Court, he could see there were a few corpses on the streets, fresh ones. The military quarter was to the east, but the vast majority of the soldiers were all camping just behind the wall's gates. The true commotion, however, was coming from nowhere less than the cathedral square.
Once again he broke into a full sprint, and just above the bridge connecting the court to the cathedral, he bore witness to what exactly was going on there. The guards were fending off three of their own... Except those men were covered in blood, their skin pale and lifeless. They were snarling and waving their swords wildly, not caring for their own wounds as they did their best to annihilate their fellow Gilneans. 'No way...' Dalrus though, horrified. 'Those soldiers... They turned into the undead too?' In hindsight, he and everyone else should probably have seen that one coming.
The boy thought the guards would be able to easily defeat their undead comrades... But with a shock, he realized they were probably utterly exhausted. Not to mention, they were being attacked by people who only hours ago, not only they thought were dead, but had fought by their side on the frontlines to defend their home. How could they simply turn their swords at those men?
As he stood there having philosophical dilemmas like an idiot, more screams rose from behind. There were no less than ten undead Gilneans rising from their deathbeds now, and an alarm was already sounding throughout the town. More soldiers came from the military quarters behind, and Dalrus saw Lyam Greymane leading a squad. "With me! V formation! Don't let a single one through!" He shouted, his rifle already in his hands and aiming at the advancing undead.
Activating his stealth, Dalrus fell back as the squad of soldiers rushed forward to contain the attack from their fallen. He watched as they rushed ahead, gunfire already echoing through the night. 'Welp, nothing to do here!' He thought with a mental nod as he turned around to leave. He had barely taken two steps when he felt a chill creep up over his spine, then his gaze turned to the Merchant square, which was north to the Military Quarters. He was reminded of the soldiers who had been taken home to be treated by their families. 'Oh... Bugger.' Was the only thing that passed through his head as he suddenly broke ahead into as fast a sprint as his legs could carry him. He quickly raced over the bridge towards the Military Quarter and continued on ahead, his cloak flapping in the air behind him as wind rushed past his ears. He could see injured soldiers laying against walls, healthy soldiers squeezing their guns and swords nervously, but no one was having the same idea as him.
Right in the middle of the square was the imposing figure of Stoneward Prison, the only prison in all of Gilneas as far as the boy knew. The huge place was mostly empty, as very few people there actually committed crimes, so the place was mostly being used as a makeshift hospital. Up to the north, the Merchant Square was in dead silence. Dalrus did not think that was a good sign.
There were only a couple people standing guard there, and they both had their backs turned to that part of town. The guards were chatting among themselves, pointing at the Cathedral Square and wondering what the fuss was all about. Dalrus simply raced in between them and continued forward. He did not stop until he was right in the middle of the square, where he finally skidded to a halt and looked around.
Darkness. Silence. Not even the wind was blowing. He furrowed his brows. Maybe he was wrong? All the noise was still coming from the west. Gunfire was still loudly echoing through the night, audible all the way from where he was. Maybe he was overreacting. After all, even through all that commotion, no one was even outside... No one was even bothering to check the noise... Out...
'Oh, bugger me...' He thought, almost moaning out loud. Taking a deep breath, he began to slowly creep forward. 'Seriously? All the way here? How did they even get in?' He thought, his mouth stretching into a thin line. 'Gods be damned, if I end up faced with one of those giant spider things, I swear...' His grim line of thought was interrupted when, at long last, he heard some noise. Stopping in his tracks, he looked around, trying to focus on his hearing. It was very faint, barely audible, but it was there... Rhythmic, grave, and coming from somewhere below. Dalrus frowned. Were they underground? The sewers, perhaps? No, those were far too deep underground... It sounded more like they were in somewhere's basement.
His eyes still closed, and walking on such soft steps not even he could hear himself walk, Dalrus began to move towards that sound. It took every bit of his concentration not to lose track of it. It was like chasing a leaf in the middle of a windy storm. If he so much as blinked it would lose sight of it forever. As it were, he relied on his reflexes to make sure he would walk a safe path as he moved towards the source of that sound. He could almost see it... In the darkness of his closed eyes, it was there... So faint... Like a darker thread in an already dark room... No, not just one... There were many of them converging towards one spot... From all directions, someone was pulling dark powers from the Twisting Nether. All that was gathering in a single spot, forming clawed hands that were attempting to grab at the fabric of reality itself, and tear it open. Dalrus did not want to think what could possibly come through from something like that...
"We know what you're afraid of."
Dalrus opened his eyes.
He was standing in front of a pair of wooden doors leading down to a basement. It was in an alleyway between two buildings. He was certain that was where the sound was coming from, also where the shadows were converging towards. He was also certain that if he were stupid enough to open those doors and go down by himself, he would not be coming back up.
He stood up straight and ran as quickly as possible around the building. The front door was closed, of course, but that could be easily fixed. Leaning his neck to the side until it cracked, the boy proceeded to dramatically crack his fingers as well. He then reached down for his belt and pulled out a couple of iron bolts. Taking a knee, he took a close look at what he was working with. The house belonged to a merchant, so the lock was sturdy and made of iron. But Gilneas did not exactly have a high crime rate. So, personal security was somewhat lax, as the king, at the very least, provided plenty of guards to enforce security on the streets. Within moments the lock was picked, and ever so gently, he pushed the door in, worried that the hinges might squeak. It took him almost a full minute to open it sufficiently for him to step inside, then close it behind him without making any noise.
He found himself in a large hallway, with stairs to the right leading up to the second floor. That wasn't where he wanted to go. He stopped for a moment so he could think. A way downstairs. That would most likely be somewhere out of the way... The kitchen? He decided to head there first.
The first room he passed through was deserted, sporting an old couch with a fireplace before it. Books were lined up on shelves, and an old lamp was hanging near the ceiling. Rather ominous, really. He continued forward, then saw what appeared to be a bathroom. Odd design choice, as someone who wanted to use it would have to move in front of whoever was in that room at the time. Backtracking, he went through a room to the left. This time he found the kitchen.
There were a few cupboards along the walls, a table by a corner with long drapes over it and another door leading further back in. After inspecting that door, Dalrus discovered it housed cleaning tools and nothing more. Scratching his head, he stopped to think for another moment. He closed his eyes and focused... Now where was it? He could see those dark tendrils still moving towards the same spot as earlier. He tried to follow its path, but it was like trying to look beyond the edges of his peripheral vision. He opened his eyes, and realized he was staring at that table. A thought occurred to him. He stepped forward and crouched down. Lifting the drapes, he found a thick, old carpet on the floor. Lifting that as well revealed a doorway that led underground. 'Bingo.'
During the five whole minutes it took Dalrus to move the table, then the carpet, then picking the lock on the door, then opening it as slowly as possible while focusing on his hearing to make sure no one was on the other side, he could sense that the darkness was growing stronger. He could now make out a new element among its tendrils. It was bright as a flame, but green in color. Somehow, it wasn't as pretty and enticing as the green of fresh new grass. It was a deep, evil green, one that almost made him recoil instinctively. A single word echoed in his mind when he wondered what it could possibly be. 'Fel...' He wondered if all the tension was driving him crazy or if some sort of void maggot was eating away at his brain. Either way, he had no time to fret over the matter.
The door on the floor led down a stairway that was absolutely pitch black. The good news was Dalrus' eyes were already well adjusted to the darkness. The better news was he was certain he'd be able to hear whatever was ahead. The terrible news was once he began going down, his passage up would most likely be blocked. Sighing internally, he began his descent, closing the door behind him on his way down.
By now he could better hear the chanting from earlier. It was a group of people, maybe four of them... No, there was a fifth one. They kept chanting ominous words Dalrus couldn't possibly comprehend. Arriving at a corridor, he saw a room by the end where that green light from earlier was flashing again and again. As he saw no one guarding the entrance, he, as silently as a shade, stalked forward, making extra certain he was fully stealthed before sticking his head over the corner and taking a peek at what was going on. What he saw almost made him curse out loud.
There were five people there, clad in long, dark robes with scarves around their faces. They were waving their pale, bony hands around in the air, and whenever they did so, those bright green flames erupted, sometimes wild and untamed, sometimes in the form of glyphs Dalrus had never seen before. To the back of the room, Dalrus saw several villagers tied up, undead soldiers standing guard over them, still like the corpses they were but with their weapons menacingly pointed straight down. Right in the middle of the room was a tall figure clad in similar clothing, and on his knees before him, was no one else than his master Silvius.
"High lord..." One of the cloaked people said in a deep, raspy voice. "The ritual is almost complete... The Gilneans are still busy fighting our distraction!"
"Excellent. The fools have no idea, then." Said the man in the middle, who was holding a hand above Dalrus' uncle's head. "Thanks to our little agent... Passing through the water way was quite easy. They never suspected we would infiltrate one of the ships. We should thank you for your cooperation, Lord Moonbite."
Dalrus could see his master's head was low, his eyes staring blankly at the floor right in front of him. He thought maybe the man was dead... But then one of the acolytes said: "His spirit is still trapped, my lord. He cannot hear us."
"Ah, yes. What a shame. I would have liked to taunt him a little more, but the man has courage, at the very least." With a little snicker of disdain, the acolyte's hand began to glow. A circular glyph formed in the space between his palm and Silviu's forehead, and a strong wind pressure started to form, causing the acolytes to lower their cowls in order to shield themselves. "Yes... Perfect! To think we would find such an incredible vessel... The void already has a hold on him. Using his life to open a demonic portal... After this success, no doubt I'll be allowed to rise to the ranks of a lich lord!" Despite the powerful draft that had even Dalrus squinting, the man's eyes were wide open, and the boy imagined he was grinning like a lunatic under his scarf. "The time is now! Your life shall be offered to our masters... The Burning Legion shall take this pathetic world of yours, mortal!" And with that, he waved at his undead servants. "Bring all the sacrifices! Let their lives fuel the flames and sate the hunger of our demon lords!"
'Nope.' Was the only word repeating itself over and over inside Dalrus' head. 'Nope. Nope. Nope. None of this. Nope.' He could feel his heart in his throat. What the bloody hell was he supposed to do? The villagers were being dragged, screaming and kicking - about four of them, he could tell. A fat old merchant, someone he thought would most likely be his wife, a wounded soldier, and... Was that flipping Lorna!? 'Oh, buggeration!' The boy almost moaned out loud, watching as the people were brought inside of the circle along with his master. There was a maelstrom of green fel energy swirling around them now, giving him only glimpses of what was going on.
"YES! MY LORD AND MASTER, THE LICH KING, FUEL ME WITH YOUR STRENGTH!" The acolyte was screaming. "IN YOUR NAME, I CLAIM THESE LIVES, AND OPEN THE GATES FOR YOUR ARMIES TO DESTROY OUR FOES!" Dalrus saw the man raise his hand. A glowing spear of burning green flames formed there.
"The shadows will free you."
Later on, not even Dalrus himself could explain what exactly happened there. When asked to explain, the best thing he could come up with was: "I just went and did what came to my mind."
In the blink of an eye, his hands went to the pouches of throwing stars on his belt, and picked six projectiles from there, three on each hand. Leaping from his hiding spot, he spun in the air and hurled them with deadly precision. The closest acolyte was pierced by three before he even realized what was going on. The one to his left had one lodged right in her right eye, and a second sank four centimeters into her chest. The other one had three fingers sliced off by his sixth star, which had the man screaming on his knees and holding his maimed hand against his chest. The final one was outside of Dalrus' view, so he had to improvise. He knew where the man was, but the flames, and the undead guards were in the way. He knew exactly where he had to go. He knew exactly where he had to do.
'I'm gonna kill these bastards before they lay even one finger on these people.'
And so there he was. One moment, he was landing on the floor after hurling his deadly darts. The next, he was one meter in the air above the fourth acolyte's head, his daggers already drawn. Dalrus came crashing down upon the man who was taking completely off guard. His weapons sank into his shoulders, with the boy using his momentum to bury them all the way to their hilts. The man died instantly.
The final acolyte stared at him with wide eyes full of hate, and the fire storm around him began to wane and grow unstable. "You...!" The man snarled, but then Dalrus saw the outlines of a smile underneath the folds of his scarf. "No matter! You are too late, fool! The ritual... All I need is this man's life!" His gaze shifting back to Silvius before him, the acolyte brought the hand holding the flame spear down. Dalrus had less than a second to act. The undead soldiers were already hissing and dragging their feet towards him. He Shadowstepped a second time... And found himself within that flaming storm beside the acolyte, with his tiny hands wrapped around the man's wrist, desperately trying to hold his arm up and away from his uncle's face. "You dare stand in my way, boy?!" The acolyte screamed, pushing down with all his might. Despite clearly being a bony and fragile old man, he was still a fully grown adult while Dalrus himself was barely fresh out of his puberty. On top of that, the swirling dark flames around them were really whittling down his stamina. "You will fail! Your entire world will burn! The shadow of death will consume you, and the Burning Legion will reign supreme! You cannot win! Surrender to the call of the Void!"
Those words, however, fell upon deaf ears. All Dalrus could think of were those demonic flames threatening to devour him, his uncle and the villagers while he held the acolyte's arm with all of his young strength. 'I gotta stop this lunatic... He's gonna kill them! He's gonna kill everyone! I have to stop him!' Gritting his teeth, he flexed his knees and his arms, then let out a savage scream as he suddenly shifted his weight. The acolyte's fel spear missed his uncle by a hair's breadth - actually, he was pretty sure some of his hair got singed - and Dalrus quickly stretched his leg down and behind him. The man screamed as he tripped over the boy's leg and collapsed forward, tumbling against that wall of fel flame. Dalrus saw his flesh get seared in an instant, his darkened skull staring at him dumbfounded before that, too, was consumed.
He did not have any time to celebrate. Looking back, he saw the undead waiting at the edges of the swirling wall of fire... Which was not dying down. Too late, he realized, a life had been offered. Not just one, either... But five. And the final one... One full of dark, void energies. Dalrus could almost see his essence flowing through the void and helping feed the opening of the portal. The dark hands clawing at reality itself grew, and a rift began to open up right before his eyes. 'Oh... Bugger. So much for that.' He thought, furrowing his brows as he looked around. The flames were dying down as a dark swirling vortex of void energy began to form in the air, a dark portal that would soon unleash dozens, then hundreds of undead right in the heart of the city. He could already see the first one start to come through. It was tall... The height of a grown person. Clad in white and purple robes, a long staff with a skull at the tip in its hand, her long, gorgeous silken hair waving beautifully against those demonic flames... Wait, what?
"Marvellous job, Dalrus, sweetie!" Sister Margaret happily said as she smiled down at him. "You did a superb job in buying time and saving your uncle's life! Now let me deal with this nasty little detail..." Turning around, the woman pointed her staff at the void gate. Suddenly, her entire body was covered in a deep, dark purple veil. Her skin appeared to peel away, revealing a glowing, dark matter underneath. Her body looked to be enveloped in bandages, where her robes did not hide her figure. Dark energy was radiating from her as she screamed a word of power, and suddenly, the portal collapsed upon itself. The undead that were about to tear their throats out fell down limply, turning into unmoving corpses once more.
The green fel flames vanished, and the room was cast in deep shadow, save for that ethereal glow from his master. "There. That should take care of that." The... Woman? Said with a nod of what appeared to be her head. Her voice sounded like an echo now, and her hair had turned into long, dark tendrils that ebbed and flowed as if they were dangling underwater.
"Uhm..." The boy blurted out, simply staring at her. "You know what, I've seen so much crap today, I'm not even that shocked." He lifted a brow at his teacher and slowly rose up to his feet, taking a moment to dust off his robes. "So, ah... Master Margaret?"
He could almost imagine her launching him one of her angelic smiles as the dark glowing core that was now her head turned to face him. "Oh, my! Yes, I suppose I owe you an explanation, no? But first..." The woman waved her hand. The villagers were already barely conscious before, but now, all of them, including his master, toppled over limply. "Don't worry, darling. I simply put them to sleep. And I'm meddling with their memories a bit. I think what came to pass here tonight should remain our little secret, yes?"
"Are you... What?" His mouth was half open now, his brows deeply furrowed at her. "Can you please explain to me why you came from that portal, and why you look like a constellation wearing robes?"
"Goodness! What a flattering analogy!" She said, now holding her staff with both hands and leaning against it, though Dalrus could see her feet were clearly dangling a few centimeters above the ground. "Well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now! You see, darling, I am actually an Ethereal. Your uncle and I... We go way back. He asked me to stay here and help train you in the ways of the void, as did your mother. I was the one who taught them how to use it in the first place!"
"You ... Were? Wait, you're an... But why... Why are you even..." There were so many questions buzzing around his head he felt his brain would melt down.
"Some other time, honey. I can't explain now. Let's just say... Something bad was going to happen here tonight. I had no choice but to put everyone around here to sleep. These people... They were using your uncle to open a demonic portal through the void. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop them in time... But you really saved the day, dear. I can tell you have an amazing future ahead of you! Now, I must be going. I'm sorry I can't help you against the undead, but something else is really dragging my attention. Good luck, dear!" Waving him goodbye, she tapped the air with her staff, and a new dark portal opened.
"What? No, hold on just a bloody moment! What am I supposed to say!?" His voice went high pitched for a moment, so confused and frustrated he was growing. He tried to grab hold of her wrist... And surprising the both of them, his fingers wrapped around something physical. "You still need to tell me... I need to learn more about the Void!"
The ethereal woman launched a very curious look - as much as a being with no eyes could - to where his hand was holding her wrist, then back up at his face. "Dalrus, dear... You have already learned everything. Tonight, the void unquestionably obeyed your will. Your mind was so focused, your will so strong, you manipulated it without even thinking about it. There is nothing left for us to teach. All that's left now is for you to learn on your own. But don't worry, honey. We will meet again." And with that charming note, the ethereal stepped through her gate and vanished, leaving a very confused boy and five other grunting and slowly awakening people behind.