Two slave knights accompanied Father Cleath to the cathedral of Ariandel. Cleath's presence had been requested by the wife of Father Ariandel. A cleric of the way of white being requested by any member of the Ariandel family was highly unusual, even more unusual, was the fact that the messenger stated that he was to specifically bring along his two slave knights.

The two silently followed him as they crossed the old bridge. The one on his right, a clean-shaven undead, was breathing heavily as he almost lost his balance. The one to his right, however, one who's beard covered any possibility of looking beyond his hood, merely was standing straight up and was following without falter.

They soon crossed the bridge and reached the cathedral. One of the heretical corvians opened the door for them as they went inside. They entered into a small room with a sickly pale-looking woman sitting on a chair at the end of it. When the women turned to face them, both Cleath and the slave knights could see the scales upon her face, her cat-like eyes glaring at them.

The women rose, slightly looming over Cleath and his slaves. Cleath made a slight bow and spoke with the most respect he could muster, "I assume thou art the dear wife of Father Ariendel?"

The women stood from her chair and gave a small bow back to Cleath. She then spoke in a tired yet wise sounding voice, "Thy assumption is correct." She gestured her hand to him to a nearby chair. complying to her wordless request, he sat down into the chair, the women as well sitting down. The slaves did not sit however as they neither had a place to sit nor had permission to sit.

"I assume thou know not as to the reason I hath summoned thee here?"

"No, I do not. May I ask as to the reason then?"

"You may." Spoke the women before coughing profusely in a handkerchief, but before Cleath could ask if all was well, she continued to speak. "As thou dost see, I am unwell and no cure hath been found. Not even in your supposed miracles." Cleath bit his lip when he heard that, careful not to let out his anger for such heresy.

"Soon I shall depart from this world, but I need one to watch over and guide my daughter." The women would have continued but once again she started to cough a storm.

"Forgive me my lady, but what does this have to do with me and my slaves?"

The women put down her handkerchief and answered, "Your slaves, as thou hast called them, are far more experienced in the world outside this one. Meaning she could learn much from them. Also, from what I hath heard, they are fiercely loyal to those assigned as their masters."

"That is true, but surely there far more worthy candidates than these two. After all, they are nothing but mere undead, unfit to care for one such as your daughter."

The women soon interjected Cleath, "And yet, thou hast them as thy personal guards." Cleath said nothing to this, not daring to look at her in the eye. The women continued, "Besides, I only need one to be guardian over my daughter."

Cleath continued to not say anything to the women, this seemed to have agitated her as she looked at him with a glare that could kill, "Should I bring my husband to deal with this matter?"

"No..." muttered Cleath.

"Then thou hast no objection if I choose one of thy supposed slaves?"

"...I do not."

"Very well then." The women's eyes turned to the slaves. Her eyes locked onto the bearded one, her gaze somehow going past the hood and directly at his own eyes. The bearded slave's eyes looked back without fear, unfaltering, and filled with some kind of purpose. That was all she needed, "I shall take that bearded one."

Cleath was about to interject but the women stopped him with a death glare, "I was not asking."

Cleath stood up as he restrained himself from releasing his anger, "Very well, I shall now then depart. You, come with me! We are leaving." Cleath left in a furry while his now only slave knight silently followed him, leaving the bearded one and the women alone.

The slave stood there in silence, before finally saying something, "What are your orders, my lady?"

The women's eyes turned from anger to calm as she looked at the slave. "These are my only orders for thee. Thou shalt be a guardian for my daughter both while I draw breath, and when my life fades from my body. Understood?"

"Yes, my lady." Came the simple reply from the slave.

"Do I have thy word?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Very good. Thou shalt find my daughter above in the attic, go to her, for she is your new master now. You may take the ladder to reach her."

The slave nodded and climbed the ladder into the attic above. The attic was filled with art supplies, brushes, and beautiful paintings. His eyes looked to the end of the room to see a small girl on a stool, painting something that he could not see from his angle. The girl put down her brush and looked towards the slave. Her face was like that of the women, scales adorning it with cat-like eyes that almost seemed to stare into his very soul.

"Thou art the one mother said wouldst take care of me?"

"It is true, my lady."

"Prithee then, may I ask of thine name?"

"Gael, my lady"

A faint smile came upon the girl's face, "That is a nice name..." The girl turned back to her painting. "Gael, could'st thou come here? Mother says this looks nothing like her, but I think otherwise."

"Yes, my lady."Gael walked next to the girl and looked at her painting. It was a beautiful painting of a woman, though Gael could not see the girl's mother in it, he did see someone familiar to him. The woman in the painting almost reminded him of...of...

...

...

...

...

Gael awoke from his slumber, finding himself in a dark void. He could not see, nor could he hear, feel, or even move. How long had he been here? What this the afterlife? His questions never were answered, that is until he felt a soul enter his body. The soul itself felt rather strange to him, a bit of it felt human and yet... it felt different, odd.

But that could only mean one thing, and it was that he was still alive somehow, and if that's the case he must still be amongst the cursed. Now he had to see what was above, he had to know. With all his might, he began to climb. at first, he could only move his arms by an inch, but the more he tried to climb the more he could move.

Eventually, he could feel himself reach to the surface as the wind blew across his skin, his body aching as if he had not moved for countless aeons. For a moment he stood straight up before slouching into a hunched position. He opened his eyes to see the new world.

He appeared to be in some form of a desert, but what caught his eye was the sun above. This made no sense to him, did not the sun finally fade in his last battle? Did not the age of fire come to an end? His thoughts were interrupted as he heard someone below him. He looked down to see a strange-looking man, a merchant or some noble probably judging by his clothes. strange that he did not desire to consume him. Even stranger is that the voices have been silent.

The man kept saying something to him, but the language he spoke was not something he recognized. Great, another tongue to learn. His eyes turned to the butchered corpse next to them. Seems he was the one to thank for the soul.

His gaze turned to look to the distance to see some sort of battle, if you could even call it that. To be quite honest it was the most pitiable display ever. Even more so than his time as fodder on the battlefield. He took a closer with his good eye at the dreadfully one-sided battle. It seemed the battle was between a group of humans and two groups strange creatures. One of the creatures was a half scorpion half man thing. The other kind of creature was some sort of human with large spots of red all about their body.

What concerned Gael the most was what the creatures were doing. The scorpions were injecting men with their tails and dragging them away in their arms. The red humanoids, however, were pinning down their victims, removed their clothes and...were raping them? In all his time on the battlefield, he never had seen this done to the combatants of the losing side. This was now both the most pitiful, and the strangest battle he had ever seen.

He silently watched the battle a little longer, but even without the voices, he could sense a presence coming up right behind him in aggression. His battle instincts flared as he sharply turned around and swung his blade, instantly severing in half what appeared to be one of the scorpion humanoids. A look of shock adorned the creatures face as the life faded from their eyes and their soul entered his body. Once again the soul felt oddly familiar to humanity, but it was still not exactly like humanity.

Gael returned his attention to the battle as the corpse landed onto the ground with a loud thud. When Gael looked at the battle this time, he noticed a majority of both kinds of the creatures staring at him. Obviously sensing the threat he possessed, they starting coming towards him like a mob.

Seeing he had the range advantage, Gael pulled out his crossbow and fired a wave of arrows. A good few of them were killed instantly from a bolt to the head, others were given grave injuries elsewhere, and others were either given a mere scratch or were untouched.

Gael casted his corona spell towards the wave of creatures, who were now halfway to his location. Many of them were severed in two by the golden discs, even more, when they came back to Gael.

Now the creatures were right on Gael. Before Gael could jump backwards to unleash an attack, one of the scorpions managed to pierce his leg where some exposed skin was. Gael looked down, expecting to feel the sensation one normally would get from poisons or toxins, but no such sensation came. He stood there puzzled, what kind of poison is this if it cannot even do anything. He was sure it would be lethal from what he saw in the battle.

He looked up towards the scorpion, a look of pride in their eyes. That soon changed as he brought down his blade on them, crushing and then severing them in two from the top down.

The scorpions leapt back and began to circle Gael, obviously now knowing they couldn't just blindly charge at him. The red humans, however, continued to charge at him. With every swing of the blade a few of the red humans were slain, none of them could get close. Gael imbedded his blade into one of the red humans.

Believing this to be the time to strike, all the scorpions charged and lept at Gael alongside their red allies. Gael was now completely surrounded, but he could only pity them. He stood up from his hunched position and held his blade in both hands and unleashed his attack. What happened next could only be described as mere slaughter for in five fast swings of Gael's blade, the battle was over.

Nothing was left now, save for a field of barely recognisable corpses. He could feel all of their souls enter into him, their strength becoming one with his.

He could still sense of them nearby. Gael turned around to see that the merchant fellow was being dragged away by the last scorpion. They already had gone a good distance ahead of him. He could still see them though, which meant they weren't out of his reach yet.

Gael concentrated where the scorpion was, creating a summon sign ahead of them. The moment the summon sign was complete, Gael immediately faded and reformed at the location of the summon sign. The scorpion had no time to react as Gael's blade went straight through her skull, barely avoiding the merchant in their arms.

(-)

Gren's life flashed before his eyes as the red hellish blade barely missed his nose, a cold sweat dripping off his forehead. The gertabilu's now dead body dropping Gren, causing him to fall and roll down a hill like a corpse.

"For the love of the chief god I can't move!" Cursed Gren in his mind as he rolled down the hill to the bottom.

He laid there at the bottom, face on the ground. This was possibly the worst day of his life. First, he had the 'great' idea of going through this region, then they got ambushed by those monsters. Now he can't move at all with pain throbbing throughout his entire body and a strange warmth in his lower body.

Gren kept cursing in his mind until he heard armoured footsteps near him.

It must have been that hooded beast coming to take his life.

He could faintly hear the beast breathing as it got closer, the closer it got the more he started to fear for his life. Gren made a silent prayer, "Chief god, please, spare me. If you do I swear to make it up to you."

He could feel its hand on his shoulder, "Please...spare me... I beg you."

The hand of the creature turned him around and met him face to face, or at least as close one could get to that with this thing. He stared at the hooded beast with fear but still unable to see its face save for its long beard. The creature began to mutter again in some strange language. It stared at him for a few moments until it walked out of his vision.

For a moment he thought the creature just left him to die, but then he felt his leg being dragged by the thing. He had no clue where it was dragging him, probably some cave so it could consume him in peace or something. He closed his eyes, giving up. Besides, there was nothing he could do anyway.

He continued not to open his eyes, but then the sun stopped blaring into his eyes. He opened his eyes, still unable to move, and as much as he could tell he was dragged under some sort of roof.

He felt the hooded thing let go of his leg and heard it walk away. A few minutes later it came back, dragging another thing before leaving. Again and again, the thing came back and forth to who knows where. In between every few of these trips he was able to move a part of his body again, bit by bit. Eventually, he was able to get up to look around.

He rose from his position and looked around. To his surprise, these were the same ruins him and his people were going to. He himself appeared to have been dragged under a large roof that was leaning onto a nearby wall. Also, every one of his men, from what he could tell anyway, had been brought here as well with their equipment on. Their animals had been tied up nearby the lake under the shade of a few palm trees, and any other equipment of theirs had been put into a pile at the centre of the ruins.

Gren was marvelled at the sight. His prayer had seemingly been answered again. One of the guards walked next to him, "So, boss, what are gonna do now?"

"Well, for starters, we need to start setting up camp. Tomorrow we are gonna continue on. Hopefully, we didn't lose too much time."

The guard nodded and went to tell the others Gren's order. Gren stared at the sun as it started to go over the horizon. That hooded beast... what, no, who were they?

(-)

At a crumbling ruin nearby the caravan camp, within its dark interior with its entrances covered in rubble, a summon sign appeared at the centre. Gael formed from the sign and went to a makeshift window. For now, he had a purpose, for now, he would observe and learn as much as he could of this new world, and for now, he would protect other travellers who traversed this desert.

Gael felt strange as he decided his course of action. For the first time in his countless years, he had no master to serve.