Of all the things Matthew expected to encounter in this venture, this certainly wasn't one of them.
The day had started out so well too, or as well as things can be expected to be out in the vast desert. They were making good progress for once; with only two minor attacks from a hungry pack of Scocreox following them, and the dunes slowly becoming less like mini mountains every five minutes to more like steep slopes scattered around, they were finally able to pick up the pace and cover more ground quicker. But, their mostly peaceful ride was not to last.
It began with a cry from Gilbird as the eagle circled in the air not too far ahead of the group. The view was blocked by the hill of an upcoming dune, one that was oddly much larger than what they had been seeing recently. Despite this, Gilbert knew instantly that something was wrong, he could tell from just the cry alone, but the way his bird was circling only enforced his certainty; something wasn't right.
Gil took the lead, hurrying his horse up the sandy hill and the others had quickly followed, only to stop and stare in soundless shock.
"W...what... happened here?" Matthew whispers after what feels like an age.
But none of the others answer as they all continue to stare in silent shock at the scene before them.
A massive, blackened crater, stretching across hundreds of feet of what was once mostly open plains, and several meters deep, scars the land before them. This alone would be a curious, if unsettling sight, but what truly has the group stunned, is the dozens of bodies littered across the floor of the crater. Duammi —peaceful, bipedal, man sized reptilian-like creatures of burden— lie scattered amongst the human dead, and, even from this distance, going by their clothes, Matt and Gil can tell exactly who they were.
Gil stares for only a moment more, before he suddenly dismounts and begins to venture down the steep blackened edge. The other three quickly follow suit, and by the time Matthew reaches the bottom with his twin and Arthur at his heels, he can see Gil solemnly going through the dead, checking for any survivors, but they all know there's not much chance of that.
Quietly, Matt watches as Al steps over to one of them, a young girl, she can't have been older than four, lying motionless in the black sand.
"Damnit..." He sighs heavily as he kneels down beside her, confirming that she too is lost, before looking up to survey the rest, "Who were they?"
"Nomads." Gil answers, rising up from the side of one of the Duammi to hold up a scroll he'd found, "By the looks of it, they were one of the native tribes to this desert. Seems they were on their way to Daská for trade."
Frowning, Al looks down to the poor dead girl, "But what happened to them? I can't see any sign of a wound or sickness, there's not a single mark on them."
He swallows heavily, and Matt quickly comes over to place a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. He knows how much Al hates seeing loss, and he knows with the certainty only a sibling can have, that Al is blaming himself for not having been here to help these people. Even though they knew nothing about this before now, he knows how much his brother wants to be able to protect everyone.
While Al gives his twin a shaky smile, Arthur finally steps forward to give the dead girl a curious sniff.
"Don't you dare..." Gilbert warns as he comes over, fixing the wolf with a hard stare.
Arthur glares right back, growling lowly, 'I am not so crass as to disrespect your dead by eating them.' Before turning away to sniff the ground, 'But this... There is a scent that hangs in the air, beyond that of death.'
Looking up Al tilts his head in question, "A smell? Like what?"
Arthur frowns and paws at the sand, but rather than the red sand being revealed under the black, only more charred sand is to be found.
'Look, the earth has been stained deep by the foul force that was here. And this smell, it is like those dark creatures from before.'
"Dark creatures? You mean the demons that attacked us a few days ago?"
Arthur nods but doesn't elaborate any further, now looking rather disgusted with the back sand clinging to his fur.
Gil sighs, looking over the dead, "Well, there's not much we can do for them now. Let's just give them a decent burial."
By day's end, the lost tribe has finally been put to rest and the group move onwards. They continue north, heading for the border. And though they run into a number of beasts seeking to attack them, none are as dangerous as the demons, which, thankfully, they haven't encountered anymore of.
By the time they start to run out of supplies —only a handful of rations left— and they abandon the cart to the desert, they come across a camp of one of the other nomadic tribes, nestled in the low rocks where the barren sands start to meet more fertile land.
It is here they pass on the news of the lost tribe, and learn an even sadder story; that tribe was a branch clan to this one, they were family.
As they sit within a large tent held up by part of the rocky overhang, Alfred asks about the girl they found.
"Olefia, that was her name." An older man tells them, a pained smile stitched across his aged features, "Bright, young and beautiful. Her loss is a sad one indeed."
"I'm sorry, I wish we could have done something..." Al mumbles, looking down and rolling the clay teacup between his hands.
"Oh but you have. You helped put our family to rest, that is more than we could ever have asked of you, stranger." As he speaks, the man's smile becomes a bit more genuine.
Despite the somber mood in the tent, happy cries of children can be heard outside, and from their shadows dancing in the firelight cast on the tent flaps, they can see the image of small figures climbing around a much larger one.
At the sound of such gleeful giggles, the man can't help but chuckle.
"And, I must thank you for helping to entertain our children. I'm afraid there's not much in the way of fun to be had in these parts, and the little ones grow ever so bored."
To Al's right, Gil snickers behind his cup and grins, "Yeah, I bet wolfy is loving being used as a climbing frame."
Matthew however, seems a little more concerned, looking over his shoulder to the silhouettes as he accepts another refill. Subtly, he leans over to whisper to Al, "Are you sure it's okay?"
Waving his twin off, Al smiles, "It's fine. Believe it or not, Artie actually likes playing with kids." His smile widens as he listens in to the quiet grumbling and empty threats of the wolf, not that the children outside can understand them, but Al can, and it makes him happy to know Arthur is back to acting like his usual self again.
The old man nods sagely as he watches one of the young children run into the tent, giggling and smiling as he tries to sneak some of the dried meat out. No one stops him, and the boy takes that as his chance to dash back out, no doubt planning to feed Arthur the stolen food.
"There is a kindness to that beast, a rare thing for the children of the Great Nankeke. The young ones see it, that is why they do not fear him."
Gilbert shrugs, leaning back on the rug, "I wouldn't call it kindness, stupid thing growls at me all the Gods damned time."
"Artie's nice, you just keep annoying him. He wouldn't growl if you'd just be nice to him." Alfred huffs defensively.
Gil opens his mouth to argue back, but is beat to it by Matthew.
"You have to admit Al, he does act pretty aggressive to Gil. It's like he's always looking for a reason to snap at him."
Staring at his twin, Alfred falls silent for a moment, because it's one thing for him to argue with Gil, but he finds it much harder to disagree when it's Mattie. And yeah, he's right. As much as Al wants to defend him, even he can't deny that Arthur does seem to take exception to Gil. Which is odd, now that he thinks about it. Usually Arthur tends to avoid most people if he can help it, despite his large size, he's always behind Alfred whenever they're around large groups of people, as if the wolf is trying to hide. He tolerates people when they come near him but would prefer to keep his distance, unless they're kids, then he doesn't seem to mind so much.
But, it's different with Gil, Arthur seems to make it a point to always growl or snap at the albino, and when Gil is around, Artie's never tried to hide away behind Al.
Alfred frowns as he realises, in fact, Arthur tries to put himself in front of Al.
He would ponder this further, but a terrified scream from outside derails his train of thought.
"What's going on?"
Rather than receive an answer, Gil jumps to his feet and dives out the tent to go investigate. Not wanting to be left behind, Al quickly scrambles out after him and Matthew follows, but pauses before leaving to tell the old man, "Wait here, we'll go see what's happened."
The camp is small, only a handful of tents all nestled in the little rocky outcrop that juts above the ground, so it's not hard to see past it to the open sands surrounding them to the south, or up to the rocky plains spreading north.
Gilbert waists no time in heading straight for the source of the scream, a woman on her knees staring unseeingly out to the south. But when he reaches out to her, he sees how cold and pale she is, and a sinking feeling washes over him as he touches her neck.
"She's dead." His voice is carefully monotone, looking out to where see was staring as Al joins him.
"What?"
Suddenly, before either of them really have time to process what's happening, a black shape is charging at them having appeared out of thin air. Gilbert's eyes glow as he instinctively tries to paralyse whatever is attacking, but much to his and Al's horror, it has no effect. There isn't enough time for Al to draw his sword, and they brace themselves for the attack. Al thinks he sees what looks like a shadowy hand reaching out to his face, before an ear splitting howl rips through the air, and the figure screeches in pain as it dissipates, as if blasted apart by the sound.
Blinking dumbly, it takes a second for Al to register what just happened, turning to look behind them. There, standing at the top of the outcrop, is Arthur, in a stance that reminds Al of the first time they met, except this time there are several children hidden under his legs in fear.
He looks to Gilbert for an explanation, but he seems to be at just as much of a loss as Al is. Thankfully, Matthew reaches the pair then, the older man in tow, clearly having decided to follow them.
"What the hell was that?"
Mattie shakes his head, just as clueless, but the old man looks around worriedly, before pulling the trio away from the dead woman, muttering with a stricken look.
"Oh may the Gods have mercy on our souls. We are doomed... doomed..."
"Hold on, do you know what that was?" Al asks, worried by both the odd attack and the man's distressed state.
He doesn't think he'll get much out of the man as he only continues to mutter as if he can't hear them, so Al switches to ask Arthur instead.
"Artie!" He calls up to the wolf.
Arthur tilts his head at him, signalling that he's listening, but doesn't look away from his post, scanning the horizon as if he expects another attack to suddenly materialise. And Alfred belatedly realises, it's because he does.
"What was that? The black shadowy thing?"
The wolf's eyes narrow, and from this position, Al can see him anxiously shifting about, and see the way he's actively using his tail to keep the children hiding under him.
His response is not what Alfred expects, nor is it overly helpful.
'Death.'
"Death?" He parrots, and the old man only seems to grow more agitated at the word.
"Enough of this." Gil growls, harshly grabbing the man by the shoulders and shaking him, "Tell me what that thing was!"
"Gil!" Mattie cries, shocked by the rough treatment, but the albino doesn't let up.
"We don't have time for messing around, tell me what that was. Now!"
The rough shaking finally manages to get through to the old man somewhat, and he fearfully looks up at Gil.
"Pavicso." He gasps, "Sand devils. Evil spirits."
The name means nothing to Gil, but Matthew's eyes flash with recognition as he places his hand on Gilbert's shoulder to stop him from shaking the man anymore.
"Gil stop, I know that name, I've read about them." He waits for Gil to release the old man before continuing, "Pavicso is the nomad name for Death Walkers."
"Oh shit..."
Now Gil get's it, but Al is still in the dark, so Matthew elaborates.
"A Death Walker is the spirit of someone who died an unjust death and their soul is trapped in this plane, unable to move on, left seeking a way to be released. We have to be really careful, these things are deadly, if they so much as touch you, you'll die."
"Oh fuck..." Gil gasps, eyes wide as he suddenly understands something.
"Gil?" Al asks worriedly looking around.
"Death Walkers Al, they can't die, we can't kill them, nothing can. They're unstoppable, we're screwed." Now he get's why the old man was so terrified, he's right, they're doomed.
But Alfred frowns, "That doesn't make sense, if they can't be stopped, how'd that one disappear when Arthur howled?"
Neither Gilbert or Matthew have an answer, both just as baffled by that, but thankful for it none the less.
'Al!' Arthur suddenly shouts loud enough to make Alfred's head hurt.
He looks up, but the wolf's gaze is fixed staring out passed the camp. Turning to follow his line of sight, Al's mouth drops open and he stares.
A black cloud of shifting forms is racing across the sand towards them, dozens of Death Walkers.
Distractedly, they hear the old man drop to his knees, pleading, "Gods, Oh Gods have mercy..."
A wall of death is hurtling towards them, and there's nothing any of them can do.
Or at least, any human can do.
Acting on instinct, Alfred turns to Arthur.
"Artie help us! What do we do?!"
As the black cloud nears, Arthur lifts his head and let's out another earsplitting howl, but this one sounds much more etherial, and Al watches as the wolf's eyes glow with power. In an instant a powerful wind is whipped up around him, and suddenly they're all engulfed in a sandstorm.
"What the hell have you done!?" Gil cries, because now they can't see the enemy, but Arthur ignores him, looking down to Al instead.
'They are poisoned death. A wolf's howl is a symbol of our strength, of our life. Death fears life. So long as my storm rages, they will not be able to get to us.'
Carefully Arthur leads the children down and nudges them to hide in one of the tents as he makes his way over to the trio.
As he comes over, Al tries to figure out what he means, passing on his words to the other two. Not for the first time, Al realises how glad he is that Mattie is such a bookworm.
"Death fears life! Of course, that's it!"
Without any explanation, Matt pulls Al's sword from his hip, turning the blade over in his hands as he nods to himself.
"This should work."
Quickly, he kneels and sets the blade down perpendicular to himself, holding his hands out above it's middle, then separates them, as if he were running his hands along the length, stopping as he reaches the ends. Closing his eyes he begins an enchantment.
Al doesn't understand a word of it, he was never really any good at learning the language of magic anyway, but Gil seems to have an idea of what he's doing, though he doesn't seem pleased.
"Matt what are you doing?" He cries sounding alarmed, "That's a soul binding spell!"
That doesn't sound good, but before Al can try to stop him, Mattie is already done.
"It's fine..." he whispers tiredly, making no attempt to get back up.
"Fine?!" Gil looks ready to explode, "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Remove the enchantment. Now. Before it completely drains you." His eyes flash warningly, but Matthew knows him too well to be cowed by the threat.
"It's fine," he repeats more forcefully this time, "I adapted the spell, look." He weakly gestures to the sword, now slowly starting to glow a bright white. "That's not from tying it to my soul, it's resonating with the soul energy of the storm. Arthur's soul energy."
Confused, Al looks between the wolf and his twin, hoping someone will explain.
Lowering his head to sniff the blade, Arthur tilts his head curiously.
'This, it has my scent now...'
Smiling tiredly, Matt waves for Al to pick up the sword. Cautiously, he does.
The instant Al's fingers brush the hilt, he feels an electric tingling running up his arm. It's an odd sensation, but not unpleasant, and definitely familiar; it feels just like his bond with Arthur.
While Al is still trying to wrap his head around all this, Gil steps forward, eyes glowing, to examine the sword as it seems to respond to Al's hold.
"This..." he whispers, red eyes widening as he looks to Matthew in clear surprise, "This is a Soul Reaver. Matt... how in the world did you know the spell for this?"
"I didn't... just, guess work from the books I'd read on them..."
Both Gil and Al stare at the tired blonde. The spell obviously took it's toll on him, something of this calibre was bound to be draining on even the most skilled of mages, and Matthew pulled it off on the fly...
"The sword..." he mumbles, swaying slightly where he sits as he looks up at Al, "It's bound to Arthur's soul... but... since you and he are bonded... you can use it..."
Without warning Matt slumps forward, and Gil hurries to catch him.
"Passed out. No surprise." Gil sighs as he gently picks the sleeping teen up and turns to Al. With a determined nod, all talk is ended.
Alfred has the sword, the Soul Reaver, and only he can use it. It's up to him now.
But he's not alone.
Straightening his back, he raises his sword, and a huff of warm breath at his ear and soft fur against his side is all the encouragement he needs to walk out and meet the Death Walkers waiting for them.
In a darkened hall, the red eyed man grins wide as he snaps closed another book, watching the lifeless form of the chained woman before him.
His power is growing...
Authors notes: This chapter was getting a bit too long so had to cut it there, apologies for the cliffhanger, but things are about to get interesting in a rather... unexpected way... Well kinda unexpected, hopefully. I've been obscurely hinting at it these last few chapters...
On the plus side, that does mean I have the next chapter written, just need to edit it. So expect that up within the week.
But Alfred's precious sword just got an upgrade, and Matthew is showing his skill once again, poor Gil is getting a bit left out... and Arthur has been puttering around in the background.
And it seems I can't decide if there's going to be more background PruHun or PruCan in this... god damn it Gil pick one!
R & R people.
Until next time, stay awesome!