"Ah! You can almost smell the sunlight. The muggy… soggy… sunlight."
"Oh, Walter… that isn't sunlight you're smelling. Whatever it is, it's revolting," Eleanor replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
Walter chuckled as he stood just outside the cave. "This is Mourningwood, alright. I hope the people we are looking for are still alive."
Eleanor stopped to look at her companion. "Why wouldn't they be?"
"Because," he said with a sighed. "Come nightfall, it's one of the most dangerous places in Albion. Well… I don't know about dangerous. But I'm starting to get a rash… bloody swamp."
The swamp wasn't all that bad from the start. There was a clear path to walk on. The grass was still green. And the birds were still singing. It was almost peaceful, if only if it wasn't for the smell. Eleanor looked over to Walter, wondering if they were even going the right way. She gazed up to the sun shining through the leaves of the trees. She observed the ancient ruins as they passed by.
"We made a good team back in that cave," Walter boasted. "It's been awhile since I've been stuck in a real fight. It was just like being beside your mother."
Eleanor smiled. "You're the one who taught me to fight, Walter."
Walter shook his head. "You were born to fight. The only thing I taught you was to use what you already know. You're a natural, Elle."
She felt her cheeks grow warm. "Thank you, Walter."
"I forgot what it was like… fighting beside a Hero."
Eleanor began to notice the air growing thicker. A fog began to form in the swamp, making it difficult to see ahead. They descended to the wetlands and everywhere they looked, puddles of water were the only way through. Any remains of bridges were destroyed long ago. People who dared venture into Mourning Swamp did so at their own risk. At first, the fog seemed natural. But on a second thought, nightfall was not far away. Hopefully, the fort would be just as close, if not closer.
"This is awful," Eleanor whined.
"Complaining won't help you any... We're almost there."
Eleanor groaned. One thing she could not stand was mud. It wasn't getting dirty that bothered her. It was the fact that mud was everywhere. Every crevice on her body was covered with it. And not to mention, the smell was still difficult to get used to.
"That must be the place up ahead!" Walter's voice echoed ahead.
She could faintly make out a bright red flag sticking out against the grays of the swamp. It was a sign of welcome and distress. The royal army flag had been torn and tattered throughout its weeks of occupation. Eleanor began to wonder just how long these men had been fighting for their survival.
"What I wouldn't give for a bowl of soup and a hot bath," Walter said as they neared the massive structure.
"I couldn't agree more," she grumbled.
Dreaming about a sturdy fort in the midst of this mess, Eleanor pressed on. She imagined herself being able to sit down actually soak her bare feet in some warm water. It was nothing but bitter disappointment when they reached the actual building. If you could even call it that. The fort had been overwhelmed by various natural disasters of the swamp.
"Cease your movement," someone on the wall suddenly shouted. Walter squinted to make out the man above the gate. "Be you men? Or be you hollowmen?"
"Have you gone daft, boy?" Walter replied. "Open up the doors."
"Walter? Is that you?" the soldier exclaimed.
"The very same. Now… are you gonna let us in or what?"
"Right! Yes. Of course. Open the gate! Tell Major Swift Walter's here."
Elle placed her hands on her hips. "They seem like a bright bunch."
"Knock it off," Walter dismissed her. "You'll see what I was talking about."
The gates swung open for them as if to welcome them into familiar arms. It was a quick chance to study her surroundings. Although, they were nothing like she had expected. In the days of her mother's rule, Eleanor knew the Royal Army as a proud and solid guild of soldiers. They would line up for inspection outside the castle and Lady Sparrow would bless them with her graces. It had been a long time since she last accompanied her mother on such a task. And it was a memory she was fond of. It had shaped her opinion on the army and gave her pride to be part of such an elite force. To see that force on the brink of despair was a disgrace to her mother's name. How could Logan destroy what their mother had worked so hard to build?
"Welcome, Sir Walter," a soldier walking by said, patting him on the shoulder.
Walter simply nodded. He stopped for a moment to take in the air around him. He, too, was disturbed by the condition of the camp. This did not last for long, however, as Walter set eyes upon his old friend. Major Swift, the proud leader of the Swift Brigade. A man of stature and a bloody good shot, too.
"There he is," Walter pointed. "The one and only, Major Swift!"
Swift chuckled proudly as he outstretched his arm. "Walter! What in blazes are you doing here?"
"Been looking for you!" Walter smiled, taking his hand without question. "I have a proposition for you."
"You came all this way to 'proposition' us," said a young man behind Swift. "I thought you were here to save us from the legions of the damned."
Eleanor took the time to study the man. But not before he noticed. Their eyes locked for only a moment. And she felt a sudden feeling of awkwardness as his eyes gave her a quick examination from head to toe. She blushed unwillingly, looking to Walter for some kind of escape.
"Ben Finn." Walter said, oblivious to Ben's interest. "It's good to see you."
Ben gave her one last look, a bit puzzled at her appearance. He turned his attention to the old man. They shook hands briskly before Walter continued to speak.
"I take it the legends about this place are true, then?"
"I'll say," Swift sighed. "You never see so many hollowmen in one place. We've been stationed here for weeks trying to eradicate them. Maybe it's us getting eradicated. We lost some good men last night. Including Lieutenant Simmons."
The major glanced over to the graveyard tucked in a corner of the remaining walls of the fortress. Three headstones stood above three mounds of dirt. One of which, a soldier remained digging upon. There was a small pause of silence.
"And the buggers will be back tonight," Swift interrupted.
"Logan just loves to send you on his best assignments, doesn't he?" Walter stated sarcastically.
"That's part of something I would like to talk to you about. Is this... no it couldn't," Swift said, gesturing toward Eleanor.
"The princess? Yes."
Swift grinned. "Never thought I'd see you dressing up as a mercenary and playing in the mud, my lady. It suites you well."
"It's good to see you too, Major," she smiled back, remembering the memories of him from her childhood.
"I'll explain. Just treat her like any other pair of hands for now," Walter suggested.
"Fair enough," Swift nodded. "Then I'll have Captain Finn introduce you to the mortar at nightfall. We could use a... a body up there."
She glanced over at the Captain, who was trying his hardest not to show his excitement. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded to show he had her attention. Once again, she intentionally turned her gaze away.
"I'll introduce you to Private Jammie; called so because he is the luckiest sod in the fort."
"You might be stuck by that mortar all night," Swift cut him short. "You should take a look around you while you can. Talk to the men. It never hurts to know who's got your back."
"Fantastic," she exclaimed. "I could use a bit of a rest before we get to work on those pests. I best be off, then? Leave you two to boast about your youth."
"Stay out of trouble," Walter winked as she stepped away.
He watched momentarily until she was out of hearing range. As Elle looked over her shoulder, she could see the men heavily conversing with each other. She knew Walter did not want to speak ill of her brother right in front of her. As cruel as he was, part of her wanted to believe Logan was not lost. But it was something to ponder on later. Swift was right. These men were worth well knowing.