Chapter 41: Ewoden

As expected, the convoy went directly across the bridge into the heavily armoured central island and the royal keep of Willendorf. As soon as they across, the bridge was closed and the wagons ushered towards the huge loading doors for the keep itself. The crates and large boxes were quickly unloaded by the knights and moves were made by workers to transport them through the large doors and into the keep itself. While in his disguise, Ewoden found that in order to keep character he had to assist the knights in the unloading process.

Once the opportunity arose, he slipped away unnoticed. He kept his disguise, reasoning that it would afford him better access to the keep. His assignment was to discover what the Order was doing with all those bones and he had every intention of doing that.

The workers loaded the large crates onto a conveyer belt and they were brought in through many entrances. Ewoden slipped in through a side one. Any workers who save him simply bowed low with respect and let him pass. They were not as foolish as to question anyone who wore Sarafan armour.

Once itself the crates, the crates and boxes were finally opened. Ewoden simply stared from afar at how many bones and skulls they had obtained. The whole skeletons of hundreds of people had to be here. Just where had they acquired them all?

The answer to that was simple and he found himself feeling foolish for even asking himself the question. He had seen the Sarafan murder vampires and those who did not support their cause en masse. Sure enough, he saw skulls with fangs amongst those without. These were the corpses of the orders political victims.

"Transport the skulls and thighbones up to the circle chamber at once." A Sarafan mage in white robes appeared to be in charge, directing the workers who were currently unloading the requested bones from the crates. "Leave the rib cages for later; the Doll maker will only need those for later spells." In the shadow, Ewoden pulled off his stolen Sarafan helmet as the visor was hindering his view of the unloading.

"Doll Maker?" He asked himself quietly. Why would the order possibly need a simple creator of toys? He surveyed them quietly, before placing his helmet back on.

The defences of the keep were made to prevent vampires and humans from entering. As the order had only recently started considering Werewolves a threat it had not probably updates their defences accordingly yet. Testing his enhanced senses such as sight, hearing and scent; Ewoden found that his abilities in stealth had been greatly improved. He could creep around unnoticed when it became necessary, but most of the time his disguise was enough for him to pass through the stone corridors without interference.

The former knight mingled into the guard escort for the workers with the bones and let them simply lead him through the keep. While here, he took the opportunity to observe as much as he could about. Most of the rooms were stocked full of weapons such as pikes, spears, swords and axes. Armour was stacked up on shelves and passing one chamber, he saw several Soldiers being trained in hand to hand combat. Others were practising their marksman with bows and crossbows against straw targets and dummy scarecrows. Clearly they were preparing for sort of combat.

Ascending up many flights of stairs, the workers were escorted to one of the high towers and to a chamber completely removed from windows. A large, thick wooden door with four knight guards outside it was pushed open to allow them entry.

Inside was a circular room with an arched floor and ceiling, torches stood out from the walls at regular intervals. It was barren, apart from the construction at the centre. Ewoden simply stared at it in disbelief. A ring was made from the bones, a curved circle directly in the centre of the room on the floor. All of the remains interlocked towards and had been placed in their locations purposely. Drawn in dark chalk around it was the image of a snake devouring its own tail. An oroborus.

"Please my lord Sabre, I beg you." A voice whispered pathetically as the workers they were escorting began to lay their own shipment of bones near the mages who were working on the bone construction. Glancing off, Ewoden saw two men standing at the far side of the strange ring. One was clad in golden Sarafan armour that strangely engraved with icons Ewoden did not recognise. He seemed old as Ewoden himself but was considerably taller. His hair was blonde and flowing down his shoulders and his eyes were muddy brown but almost seemed to glow. A sword was slid into a scabbard by his waist.

The other was a short, balding man with receding bright orange hair. His skin was pasty and almost grey in colour. A series dark of rings under his eyes showed either lack of sleep or intense stress and worry. "I go down on my knees, please don't make me do it." The smaller man dent down to his knees and looked quite a pathetic sight. His clothes were little more than rags on his wiry frame.

"Elzevir, show some dignity." The taller man, Saber- Ewoden deduced- sighed, apparently finding the smaller mans display pitiful. "Need I remind you 'again', that you are alive simply because the master choose you to be worthy of resurrection. Displease him and he can take away for new life in an instant." Saber turned to give Elzevir a glare. He raise a hand and called forth the beginnings of a fire ball spell between his fingers, the orange light casting savage shadows across his face. "Of course, I can do the same right here and now; unless you simply get on with the ritual you were called to perform." Frantic now, Elzevir persisted.

"It is necromantic magic my lord. Such spells can only be wielded by Guardians themselves."

"One of which you shall become if you do well." Sabre replied dismissing the spell. "You needn't cower like that Doll maker, we are your friends not your enemies. You would not have been summoned back to the land of the living if you were incapable of casting the spell." Sabre glanced back as two knights approached, each of them carrying a red velvet pillow. Upon which lay polished armour. It appeared to be Sarafan in style, but…while it was not standard Sarafan issue he felt as if he had laid eyes on it before.

If he were to hazard a guess, he would say it was custom made. "You are experienced in magic of the soul. Think of this as nothing more than a challenge of your skills." The taller man stated, before he gestured out towards the centre of the room. The knights bowed their heads and carefully stepped over the ring of bones, careful not to disturb a single one. Gently they laid the pillows with the armor down in the centre and retraced their careful steps.

It was already clear Elzevir had no choice in the matter and his last attempts to plead had been ignored. More knights and many ordinary Sarafan guards began to march in through the door, the sound of their armoured footsteps resonating across the chamber. They quickly formed themselves into a circle and knelt facing the ring of bones just as it was completed. The skulls all faced outwards and the thigh bones had been used as the main bulk. Ewoden, fearing his disguise might be voided, knelt along with them and watched as Saber shoved Elzevir towards the side of the ring.

"This is your only chance to prove your worthiness, Doll maker. Fail; and you return to the underworld. I needn't tell you what that will mean for you." Elzevir shuddered as some unknown memory passed through his mind. Shaking in fear, he slowly reached forward and touched the side of the ring. The knights all seemed to hold their breath in anticipation.

The dwarf of a man looked as if he had been dealt a savage blow across the chest as he convulsed, the outline of his hands glowing a soft violet. Instantly the eye-sockets of the skulls lining the outside of the ring began glowing one after the other, that same soft colour. The interior of the ring began to pulsate, as if hot air were passing through it distorting the image.

Ewoden recognized the tingle in the air that gave away the presence of powerful magic, but the spell itself was not one he was familiar with.

Slowly and surrounded by a faint glow, the armour that had been placed in the centre rose up and the former knight watched as it moved to fit together as if there was a person inside. The chain mail inflated, spreading out to accommodate imaginary muscle and the plated amour folded over it perfectly.

Without warning the purple glow changed to become a very dark greenish blue, the glow itself twisting around the suit of armour like a twister. Elzevir contorted and vomited onto the floor before collapsing.

Ewoden attention was not on him, but rather on whatever creation they had made that now stood in the centre of the ring. The bones had all collapsed to dust that lay on piles on the floor.

The suit of armour stood there silently, before he examined its hands as if it hadn't expected to ever see them again. Suddenly, it cried out. The cry resonating with anguish and pain.

"Why!" It demanded as it collapsed to its knees. "Not the armour again! I beg of you, set me free!" Sabre calmly approached and stood before the creature.

"Sire, please; maintain some dignity in front of your men." He whispered. The suit looked up to see the knights bowed low before it. It didn't notice Ewoden amongst them, watching with wide eyes and an astonished look on his face.

He knew now where he had seen that armour before. It had received a few new attachments, but it was undoubtedly the same attire. "You have been called back to lead us victory once more my lord."

"I don't care about victories or glory anymore." The armour protested angrily. Ewoden knelt there thunderstruck. Even the voice coming from it sounded the same as he remembered…but despite that the former knight failed to see how it was possible. "I spent centuries in a cold, metal shell and now you condemn me to it once more? Destroy this cold prison and let me go free!"

"Why return to the spirit realm when you can remain here and enjoy the many pleasures of the flesh?" Saber asked, drawing the sword from his scabbard. "Once our enemies lie broken and defeated before us, your human body will be restored to you. Thus is the reward promised to you by the most high." The armour looked up at the man. "Now rise again…" Saber offered the blade, hilt first towards it. "Lord Malek."