The Circles of Moonlight: Chapter 1.

CHAPTER ONE

Battle of The Fallen Endrich.
1200 Years Since the Dying Ember.
6th Year of Emperor Razorel’s Rule over Kindeath, Anosloth & Rivaborn.

The air was ripe with death, a thick and suffocating mixture of blood, flesh, and loss; Raven’s swooped down from the clouded skies, fighting amongst themselves, trying to collect their next piece of food, finding survival in the rotting corpses of many. The outcome of mass slaughter, a painting portraying death with no bounds.
‘It was more of a massacre that a battle Captain’ Ghost said, his eyes wide beneath the dense shadow casted by his helm.
‘We need not peruse – not now. They rushed in and was finished with the township in less than an hour’.
Captain Enzo Franz stepped forward passed a fallen horse, his legs practically knee deep in the bloodied remains of fallen men.
‘The blood shed like the skin of a snake, blood in such abundance we could fill the ocean red’ he said, petting his black horse that stood stern next to him, its once hopeful eyes now dull, and close to death.
‘We will not allow something of this extent to be spread around – we need to inform the Lieutenant of this before things come out of hand. Battle is too close, most likely a rouge tactic, a distraction’.
Ghost nodded while gazing out into the horizon, the floor coated in death, like a carpet of crimson gore.
‘At least 500 men and woman were killed Captain, I was called in via raven, but once I had arrived the battle had already ceased – along with most life. We don’t yet know if this was an act of the Ghilali Army’.
‘It likely is – a massacre to bring our troops attention elsewhere, which is why this shall be kept quiet until the Lieutenant tells us otherwise. In the mean time we need to find proof the Ghilali’s did this’ he paused, ‘Where is James and Fons?’.
‘Their out in the centre of this mass grave Captain, searching for survivors’.
‘I see – have we sent anyone to the market village up atop the mountain? They may have seen the oncoming attack from their height - maybe even where this presumed army had come from’.
‘No Captain, there’s only us 4 here at the moment, a small fleet of soldiers are on their way now’.
Enzo kneeled before a corpse laying on the ground beneath him; a young boy, his neck had been crushed by what seemed to be a powerful jaw, most likely a hound he thought. His body was mangled beyond recognition, ripped to shreds by the fangs of a vicious beast.
‘They used hounds also, a pre-planned attack in which they had enough time to bring forth unpredictable creatures. Very rogue indeed. I wouldn’t be surprised if the hounds spilled the blood of their own also. They wanted this slaughter done quickly, even if the slaughter included themselves also’.
He leaned down inspecting the body, pushing the boys head to the side, almost separating it from his body completely.
‘That’s what we suspected Captain’ Ghost replied, then pointed out towards the far right side of the ruined town.
‘There’s a few hound corpses just left behind the shopping sector sir, 8 foot long, 6 foot tall. These weren’t any ordinary hounds.
The Captain stood up from his squat, his armour plates rattling as he moved, coated in a thick layer of mud.
‘I see’ he said, stepping out towards a pathway cleared of corpses.
‘I say we flush them out Captain, if this was done by the Ghilali’s – they couldn’t have gotten far in the space of time we arrived. If we send a few troops forth from North and West, we might be able to catch them before they reach Endrich’.
‘No’ Enzo growled.
‘We need not worry about catching them, for they will do no more than regroup with their Army – allow them to run, for their fate is already decided. I want no one else other than us and the Lieutenant knowing about this attack. Our Army is strong, and need to stay focused on holding down Endrich while they await for the Ghilali attack. If word of this slaughter came out, it would spread like a plague, sending disorder through the soldiers – most of which grew up in this township. Which is exactly what the attack was intended to do. You understand?’.
‘Very well Cap, I understand’ Ghost replied, opening his helmet to allow the glowing sunlight to warm his unwashed skin.
‘You said a troop was on their way here?’.
‘Yes’.
‘Do they know of what happened here?’.
‘No’.
‘And it will stay that way. Send them a message via Raven, telling them to dismount from their journey and continue forth to the battlefield awaiting at Endrich’ he paused, looking past the mound of death around him, scanning the horizon for James and Fons. Though they were not visible from where he stood.
‘Are James and Fons far?’
‘No sir, their likely hidden amongst the ruins’ Ghost replied while walking further down the pathway, reaching into his aging leather pouch, before blowing into a small black silver lined horn, calling for a raven.
‘Very well, I’m going to find them’ Enzo said, before resuming his walk deeper into the ghost town, his horse close by his side.
The purple cloth that was mounted beneath his shoulder plate blew elegantly in the wind, like a flag representing Kindeath’s arrival in the butchered town. His 5-foot Dragon bone sword was strapped to a leather saddle connect to his black stallion, her name was Leas, a horse which had been bread amongst the finest steed of the kingdom. Although her life was coming close to the end, a though that had brought Enzo close to tears, a sensation he hadn’t felt for many decades.
‘James!’ he shouted. ‘Fons!’. Silence.
Their was an eerie feeling amongst the silent dead; a town once so full of life, now completely decimated. Filled with deceased families which will be forever forgotten, with no children or kin to continue their bloodline. Lost within time.
‘Captain?’ he heard in the distance, the voice echoed through the dense death-filled air, sending blood covered crows scattering from their feasts. It was James.
‘James where are you’ Enzo shouted back, mounting onto his horse, lightly tapping Leas as she began to wonder at-top the dead. The crunching of bones filling the silence.
‘By the farm sir, come take a look at this’ came the reply, this one coming from Fons. Enzo glared deep into the surrounding lands, in search of the farm, or what decrepit remains of its form was still standing; and out past a pile of a dozen or so townspeople, he saw the dim silhouette of James and Fons, waving to him. Their forms barely visible through the blackened mist of smoke that lingered above the ground, its jaws unhinging to feast upon the detached bloodied limbs that surrounded it. Enzo leaned forward as leas began galloping towards the soldiers, crushing bone to powder beneath her powerful hoofs, the momentum sending the dense mist waving in circles, and up towards the clouds above. He must be quick, this he knew. The longer he takes travelling back to Endrich, the closer the Ghiali’s could be to sending their attack to the cities gates. And once this breach is made, they have a clear path to the heart of the 5th and 6th branch of the Kindeath Battalion. Once this happens, he knew his time to speak to Lieutenant Wayne would be next to none.
‘Over here Cap!’ James called, signalling for him to take the left route past a particularly large pile of abandoned armour, presumably belonging to the Ghiali’s. Enzo took a left onto a small brick pathway which lead directly next to James and Fons, who were standing a few feet away, looking down at something on the floor, although he couldn’t see what it was.
‘I’ve never seen anything like this in my life’ Fons said while crouching down to get a better look, his armour reflecting the glow of sunlight that etched its way through the giant clouds.
‘What is it?’ Enzo asked as he dismounted from Leas and began walking up to the soldiers.
‘Some sort of hound sir – but it’s been deformed’ James answered, lifting his shinning helmet to reveal a thick mane of black hair.
‘Deformed?’
‘Yes sir, it’s been deformed’ came the reply. Enzo walked past the pile of abandoned armour and knelt down before the colossal corpse. Its frame 6 foot tall, and 9 foot long; a thick coating of short black fur covered its powerful body, it’s legs as long and large as a Razell Gladiator, and its head as large as a bulls.
‘This is no hound – not anymore’ Enzo said, looking down into the creatures now grey and lifeless eyes. Its jaw had been completely reformed, instead of opening and closing one way, it had been slit both vertically and horizontally, forming a cross. And when unhinged its jaw would open up in 4 sections, revealing hundreds of armour piecing fangs.
‘We found 3 other hound corpses Cap, spread out around the ruins’ Fons said, arms crossed against his chest plates.
‘How could something like this exist’ James added, gazing down upon the dead beast.
‘The dark arts I imagine’ Enzo began. ‘But to reshape living mass to this extent is unheard of. I’ve worked with some of the finest sorcerers and practitioners of magic and alchemy the 7 Kingdoms had ever produced – and non had ever come close to this level of deformity to living flesh and bone. To heal wounds, or remove souls frm living shells is one thing, but to reshape a living creature into something different entirely is something of only myth and legend’ he finished, turning the creatures head to one side, revealing a pile of undigested flesh that it must have brought up in death.
‘What do you think this means Captain?’ Fons asked.
‘This means we have a serious problem Fons, and you said you found 3 other corpses?’.
‘Yes sir’.
‘And they’re all in the same form as this one?’.
‘Yes Sir’.
Enzo stood from his crouch and gazed at the two soldiers before him, and as the light fought through the clouds, the soldiers saw Enzo’s eyes through his helm, and they saw fear.
‘Were there any survivors?’ he asked.
‘No sir, we searched the entire area, everyone and everything is dead’ James answered, wearing the same numbed expression as most other soldiers and recruits in the battalion. Enzo nodded and began walking back towards Leas, who stood peacefully in the sunlight, looking up into the clouded skies.
‘The Ghiali’s have a secret weapon – and we don’t know what it is, or who it is – but it could single handily change the course of his war’ Enzo said, still facing away, and his voice trembling noticeably. James and Fons followed behind, surprised at the words their Captain had spoken.
‘Because of the hounds?’ James asked.
‘No… because of what made them’ he answered simply, tightly clutching the purple cloth that hung from his shoulder plate.
‘Do you both have horses?’.
‘Yes Sir’ they both answered, ‘Their tied up just below the hill to the south of this township’ James added.
‘Very well, go to them, and begin travelling back to Endrich. Don’t speak a word of this massacre t anyone. This stays between u and the Lieutenant. And that stands for the reshaped hounds also’ Enzo said, turning to face the soldiers once more, a stern and fierce look returning to his eyes.
‘Yes sir’ They both said.
‘War is close soldiers, and the siege of Endrich will be only the beginning of a wider slaughter that will run this kingdom red with the blood of many. But with the 3rd, 5th and 6th branches of the Battalion currently stationed within the city, we can make it the blood of the Ghiali’s instead of the blood of our own… Am I heard?’
‘Yes sir’ they both chanted, holding the leather handles of their longswords tight in their palms.
‘That’s right soldiers – if you hurry you can arrive at the walls of Endrich in only 20 minutes. I will be close behind’ Enzo finished, signalling for the soldiers to disburse and hurry to where their steeds awaited. With a nod, both soldiers passed by their Captain, and began to make their way across the mound of death and blood that coated the town, and towards their horses that sat on the other side of the ruined town, towards the large hill that looked over them.

The streets of Endrich were stained bright as the sunlight beamed down, destroying any lingering darkness and creating a glowing hue that covered the surrounding cobble. The upper-level buildings stood tall amongst the connected streets, separated by a large waterfall which led down to the lower city, where it was drowned out by a deep shadow which smothered its roads and alleys; most of which were under reconstruction since the demolition caused by the Dragon Siblings of Humbscomb. High above the dying city stood the Tower of the Moon, where the Kindeath’s Legion of Sorcery dwelled, along with the high-ranking commanders and tacticians of the 5th and 6th branches of the battalion. It was a powerful and hulking figure that loomed high above the skyline and could be seen as far as 2 miles away in clear weather; a beacon of sorts to represent the Empires power within Kindeath.
Sorceress Anita stood atop the great towers marble and birthstone balcony, gazing down at the city below. Her thick black hair was tied up a ponytail, which fell down upon her large purple robe, which was coated in various plates of armour; shielding her more effectively in battles which didn’t include the usage of sorcery and magic. With a sigh she turned away from her view, and made her way back through the large archway, which was hand crafted into may different shapes and forms; and past into the library sector which laid just beyond the balcony. Tyvidathan, an elder wizard. And Kolum, a young scholar of sorcery sat huddled around a large oak table, surrounded by an ocean of shelves and cupboards filled to the brim with ancient leather-bound books. Both had their heads buried deep in an intense game of chess.
‘Where’s Rattlesnake?’ She asked the men.
‘Probably up to his usual nonscience’ Tyvidathan answered quickly without looking up from his game.
‘Or planning some grand entrance’ Kolum added with a snicker.
‘He’s the one to call upon a meeting, and his the last one to arrive’ Anita hissed, ignoring Kolum’s sarcasm, and feeling anger swell up in her temples.
‘Oh calm down woman, he’s your higher up so he can do as he pleases’ Tyvidathan said while checking Kolum’s king with his knight.
‘He’s your higher up too’ She shot back, her face reddened with anger.
‘Oh please, I’ve been in more battles that all of your ages combined Anita – he’s no higher up of mine’.
‘You also need help travelling up more than two steps’ she roared, glaring a hole through the back of his head. Kolum laughed at the remark.
‘No – I just levitate above them’ he replied, finally looking up to meet eyes with Anita’s. She hated him, so smug and arrogant.
‘Oh whatever’ She mumbled as she walked over to the table where they sat. Carefully stepping over abandoned objects that were scattered across the floor. The room was so dark she could barely see where she was stepping, only the natural light from the archway, and a few candles dotted around the room gave off any kind of light, and even then the room was almost as dark as the cities torture chambers.
‘Fool’ Tyvidathan smiled, checkmating Kolum with a Bishop and his two rooks. Trapping his king between three of his own poorly placed pawns.
‘Another?’ Kolum asked quickly, ‘I’ll beat you this time’.
‘No you won’t’ Anita butted in, taking the seat next to him.
‘You couldn’t even beat me, and I hadn’t played a game of chess in my life’.
‘You lie’ he hissed, ‘No person who’s never played a game in their life, is able to do what you did that day’.
‘Sorcery is the answer my friend, sorcery’ Tyvidathan said while plucking at his long white beard which hung loosely from his wrinkled and aged face.
‘You’re telling me she cheated?’ Kolum growled as he stood from his chair and glared at her. Anita shrugged in reply, then looked over at the large wooden door that separated the library sector from the outside hallway. Where is he? She thought. He said the legion had a possible emergency on their hands, and yet 2 hours later he still hadn’t arrived. Anita laid her head in her hands, her mind wondering. The past few weeks, day and night, a suffocating feeling submerged her, an uneasy dread which ran her blood cold with supressed panic. The feeling that something was close by, but yet too drenched in shadow to be seen. Something with a power beyond the fabric of their own realm. Something calling out to her. And yet when she tried to make a connection, the feeling would cease. Only to come back again at random.
‘Do you two know anything about what Rattlesnake was talking about?’ She asked them both, dragging her head out of the fog of her thoughts.
‘No more than you’ came their reply.
‘Though – I believe we both know more than Rattlesnake may think’ Tyvidathan added, a serious look replacing the light-hearted one he had been wearing just moments before. The tonal shift had caught her completely off guard.
‘I suppose we do’ Anita said, looking up at Tyvidathan. ‘You feel it also?’.
‘Oh yes’, he paused, collecting his thoughts. ‘I know a few sorcerers who have felt it, Anita. Goblith, Lazium and Bordon have all spoke to me about this… feeling. And I suspected you had felt it too, and I suspect Rattlesnake has also. Something is calling out to us sorcerers and practitioners of wizardry, as if announcing its arrival’, he paused again, liking his lips. ‘I believe we have felt the touch of a God’ Tyvidathan finished, taking a sip from his wooden cup.
‘A god?’ Anita said, although it was framed as more of a question.
‘That’s what I believe’.
‘Is it possible?’
‘Not only possible, rather likely’ he answered. ‘There’s nothing else that could produce such affects – I believe a god has taken physical form in our realm – It’s been done many times in history, it was only a matter of time before one came forth from the shadows of chaos, to reignite the dying ember, and come forward to our physical realm once more – the question isn’t is it possible, its why’.
Anita stared at the Elder Wizard, dumbfounded by his words. But before she found the time to reply, there was a loud echoing thud as the large wooden door swung open behind them, letting in a cool breeze which flushed its way around the library.
‘Kolum!’ Rattlesnakes voice bellowed from the doorway.
‘Yes Sir’ Kolum replied, his voice shaky; like a child who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing.
‘What are you doing in here?’ Rattlesnake growled, stepping into forward into the dim orange glow of the room.
‘Uh… Uh… Just studying sir’.
‘Studying with a chess board?’ he said sarcastically.
‘I suppose so sir’.
‘Well I suppose you should swiftly be rid of yourself’.
‘Yes sir’ Kolum said, quickly picking up his bag packed full with old paperwork, and rotting books of sorcery and alchemy, before heading out past Rattlesnake, through the wooden doorway, and disappearing down the long dark hallway. Rattlesnake remained stood in place for a moment, his eyes scanning around the library, most likely making sure no one else was hidden behind the many bookshelves. Then he swiftly shut the large wooden door and made his way over to the oak table where they sat.
‘An emergency I hear’ Tyvidathan said, leaning back in his chair which creaked and moaned with the sudden motion.
‘A possible one’ Rattlesnake replied, sitting down where Kolum had moments earlier.
‘We’ve received a message from Captain Enzo Franz of the 3rd branch – He spoke of a massacre in Yvido, the small township on the other side of Bane’s Hill’, he paused momentarily, slowly placing the white pawns back in there rightful place on the board.
‘The message was coded, so not everything is clear. But he said there were no survivors, and there were numerous dead hounds, but in his exact words, the hounds had been deformed’.
‘Deformed?’ Anita repeated.
‘Yes deformed. He said they were 6 foot tall, and 8 foot long – and that their jaws had been reshaped in order to maximise power and damage’.
‘Do we have one of these hounds to inspect?’ Tyvidathan asked.
‘No not right now, but Enzo along with a few of his soldiers are on their way back to Endrich now, and they are bringing one with them for us to examine’.
‘And what makes you think this could be a possible emergency?’ Anita wondered aloud.
‘Because I trust Enzo’s judgement, he knows more about sorcery and alchemy than most scholars in this very Tower. I’ve fought in many battles beside him throughout my time within the ranks of the Kindeath battalion - And if he suspects something strange is going on, then I believe it is us as the Legion who should look further into it’. Tyvidathan pulled a face Anita couldn’t decipher.
‘He believes what exactly?’
‘Like I said, it was a brief coded message, we need to wait for his arrival before we get anymore additional information he may be holding onto. But as he said, it seemed to be a wholly unnatural form of sorcery, not known amongst the 7 Kingdoms. A form of which he had never seen in his life’ the High Sorcerer replied.
‘So you think we should put our focus away from the protection of the city, and instead focus on a brief statement made by a captain – who isn’t even a practitioner of any kind of sorcery – before we even know the truth of what he believes?’ Tyvidathan hissed sarcastically.
‘Yes, I do. Because it is clear the attacks on Yvido corresponds with the siege of Quasm, something I know is beyond coincidence – They are taking control of the outer cities, surrounding us like a pack of starving tigers, waiting to snuff out their prey. Ignoring something like this, could hurt Endrich more than protect it’ Rattlesnake growled.
‘The Gihalian Empire is growing more and more powerful by the day, now occupying the noble city of Quasm up north – recruiting their sorcerers and wizards forcing them into their ranks, and these practitioners are particularly sneaky in their practice. Preferring to work in the shadows. And I believe they may have had a hand in what happened in Yvido’ he added. ‘Which is why as the High Sorcerer of the Legion, I believe it’s our duty to investigate further into the massacre of Yvido. There’s something strange going on, and I don’t like not knowing what it is, or what it could mean’.
There was a long moment of silence that echoed through the library. Only the bitter sweet songs of crows broke through it; as the last beams of daylight illuminated the sky a bright orange and pink, and stained the library in the bright glow of twilight.
‘Quasm was a quiet and distant city, out of the way of most of the Ghialian’s ruled lands – and devoid of most political power, or high-ranking officials. All they really have is ageing royal nobles, and an odd selection of secretive sorcerers. Which is why I find it so strange that the Gihalian’s decided to take control of it, especially after a month long battle to take over the central cities of Dreadborn – a strange choice of action’ Anita said thoughtfully, finally breaking the silence.
‘And there will be a solid reason for it, I have no doubt in that. We are just yet to know’ Rattlesnake replied, slowly standing from his chair to look down upon the Elder Wizard and Sorceress before him. Tyvidathan’s eyes locked with his. His purple robes hanging creased, and worn from his old body; and the once perfectly fitting plates of armour looked too large for his small and frail frame. A weak exterior to hide the immense power settled within. And with just a single look, Rattlesnake knew the old man was about to speak of something wholly different.
‘Have you felt the presence?’ Tyvidathan asked, holding the stare.
‘What presence?’ Silence followed.
‘The ember is burning bright Rattlesnake, though – I’m sure you already know this’. Rattlesnake’s eyes widened momentarily in shock, before regaining their usual firm stare. A thought, that he too has had, though, it was no more of a delusion of an impossible truth.
‘It’s been dead for 1200 years Ty. A long 1200 years, a fact that you know better than anyone else’.
‘And yet tonight, it burns with a power beyond chaos itself’
‘No – that’s impossible.’
‘Why lie?’ he said, looking over at Anita, then back at Rattlesnake.
‘You say I jump to conclusions – and yet you believe the ember has been reignited by the hand of a god? with no real reason or merit behind the claim, all over than a strange feeling’, he replied. Tyvidathan Smiled.
‘Do you forget my age Rattlesnake? I have stared into the eyes of demons, I have bargained with the deeds of Gods, and I have battled against the reign of Gods’ he paused. ‘What I have felt is certain, as I have felt it before. To focus only on the deeds of man, is it focus on only one move in a game of chess, ignorance will win no games Rattlesnake. The Ghiali’s are only one piece on a full board, and another player is looming in the darkness – and his intentions are unknown’.
‘… And so, your saying we should ignore the threat of the Ghialian Empire, and instead focus on an unknow presence, that may nor may not exist?’ Rattlesnake hissed, his words like venom.
‘No’ Tyvidathan laughed. ‘Your ignorance never ceases to amaze me Rattlesnake. You must observe every piece on the board, and respect the power and danger each one brings. Only then can you effectively plan a counter to each of the inevitable threats they bring forth – for at one point or another, you will have to face each one of them’ He said simply. Loosening his robe’s collar and taking a deep sip of wine from his wooden cup.
‘The only threat we know for certain Ty, is the Ghialian Empire. Who I have no doubt are currently collecting their troops and planning to take hold of Endrich right as this very moment. And my main concern isn’t the speculation of an Elder Wizard – it’s to keep control of this city, until the Emperor states overwise. In the meantime, if you find any concrete evidence towards proving what you believe to be true – then by all means let me know. But as of now, our worries will be held elsewhere’, Rattlesnake said, turning away from the Wizard and Sorcerer that sat huddled around the large oak table behind him. His gaze pondering the shadows around them; which painted the library in thick coats of black darkness. Anita watched this, her mind digesting the conversation unfolding before her, unsure as to what to say; her thoughts clouded by her own opinions. Although she knew in their eyes her views and ideas were insufficient, as her low rank in the Legion would suggest. Though what she felt, was a truth beyond denial.
‘And if the ember has been reignited?’ she asked, eyes wide with thoughts of chaos. Rattlesnake turned.
‘Then the gates of death will be opened, and forth will come the end of many’ he replied bitterly.
‘A truth beyond denial’.
‘Yes’, he agreed. Tyvidathan stretched out his arms and yawned, his ancient bones cracking; his old age taking away the young energy he had once had.
‘When shall we expect Captain Enzo’s arrival?’ he asked abruptly.
‘20 minuets – 30 maybe’ Rattlesnake answered, his stance firm.
‘Then call upon me then, I am tired and require rest’ he said, finishing his last sip of wine, and standing from his chair.
‘Very well’, came the reply. Without words Tyvidathan turned from the table and made his way past Rattlesnake, carefully stepping over the scattered objects covering the floor, and over to the large wooden door on the far wall. With a grunt he pushed it open and disappeared into the darkness outside. The door closed with a thud behind him, sending a collision of echoing roars bouncing off the surrounding walls. Leaving Rattlesnake and Anita alone in silence.
‘What do you think?’ he asked her, taking refuge in the now vacant seat next to her.
‘Of what?’ she replied.
‘Of what Tyvidathan believes’. There was a brief silence.
‘I know what I felt’.
‘As do I’ he paused. ‘But that wasn’t what I asked’. Anita glared at the High Sorcerer.
‘I believe what ever has emerged from the chaos of our plain – is beyond our known terms of what power is – it can’t be a coincidence that so many practitioners have felt its arrival. What ever it is. As have you. And I don’t think its something that should be so easily brushed off as delusion’. Rattlesnake shook his head in consideration, his robes elegantly moving with him.
‘Though – there is no reason to believe it is anything physical. It could simply be a sudden release of energy, which has dissipated into the fabric of our realm, lingering like a scent, for us sorcerers to sniff out’.
‘But what that you know of could release such power as that has been felt?’ She replied quickly, taking Rattlesnake by surprise. He grimaced.
‘Nothing – that I know of’.
‘And I believe this is the point Tvidathan was attempting to make – in his own arrogant way. There is something destructively powerful that has been let loose within our realm – whether it is something of physical form or not, it is still a grave danger to the Empire’. Rattlesnake didn’t reply for a long moment, for the first time in Anita’s time within the Legion, he seemed to be considering her words.
‘I will speak to High Mage Lucian about this sudden appearance of power. And with some prodding, I believe he will be willing to contact Prince Miles of the Temple of Nightfall – and with his judgement of the situation, I will be trustworthy’, he replied carefully. Then with a sigh leaned back, wearing an expression Anita couldn’t read.
‘There is something else I would like to speak with you about, personally Anita’ he said, drawing out the words as if picking them carefully.
‘And what would it be?’ she replied quickly, preparing herself for the worst.
‘Well’, he paused, before resuming. ‘ You have been within the Legion since a young girl, and over the years I believe you have become a… considerably important member within its ranks – and I hope you know your loyalty is appreciated amongst the higher ups of the legion’. Rattlesnake brough a hand up to his face, brushing his fringe from his brow. ‘I think it is within my duty to give respect to members such as yourself’. Anita stared at him in disbelief.
‘I would like to ask you to be my 3rd in command’ he said. ‘A promotion that will grant you the title of High Sorceress’. Anita was speechless, although judging by Rattlesnakes stern glare, it was evident he was waiting for a reply.
‘It would be my honour’ she said, still stunned. Rattlesnake smiled.
‘Lovely’ he said. ‘With your new rank you will be provided with a new robe, and fitted with a new set of blackened armour. Tomorrow you will be listed officially as the High Sorceress Anita, 3rd in command of the Legion of Sorcery – This means you will be included in all important meetings regarding the Empires, and all Lieutenants field tactics being planned, and you will also have a voice in these discussions going forward. And I can assure to you your voice will be heard by the emperor himself in instances of his presence’. Rattlesnake stood from the table.
‘With this being said, I will call upon you when Enzo’s arrival is known. And I will ask for you to meet with me and Tyvidathan at the Alchemist’s Chamber’. Anita nodded.
‘Very well – I see you then High Sorceress Anita’ he finished, before nodding and making his way across the room and over to the large wooden door, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway; which swallowed him whole, deep into the depths of its dark stomach.

Dirziri Mane unhatched his war hammer and tightened his grip around the witch’s frail neck. Her eyes bulged and blood shot from the growing pressure.
‘You won’t find what you want, dammed one’ the witch gargled through struggled breaths.
‘Won’t I?’ he growled in answer, bringing his war hammer up above his head.
‘Then what use is your life to me?’.
The witch scratched at his exposed forearms; the black armour plates strapped around his body not covering every part of his tall frame.
‘My life is in use of higher causes’ she replied, struggling to get loose from Dirziri’s strong inhuman grip.
‘Witches have no higher causes woman, if you can be called such a thing. You are but a spec in an ocean of darkness’ he hissed, bringing his war hammer flying towards her body, shattering her left leg with a sickening crunch, like standing on shattered glass. The witch roared in pain, reaching down to hold onto her mangled leg, which hung loosely from her body.
‘Where is it?’ Dirziri hissed, throwing her body down onto the soft grass of Spawnless Forest. Her head sitting the colossal tree that sat just above her, sending an army of orange leaves falling from its branches.
‘You are a fool dammed one’ she laughed. ‘Chasing myths only seen by the one’s chosen for death’. Her smile revealed blood-stained teeth.
‘The whisperer only speaks to those he has chosen as prey; his whispers are a signal of death and pain. Anyone searching for him will only go on chasing silence carried by the cold wind – unless of course, they are chosen for death’.
Dirziri took a step closer to the bloodied witch; his armour rattling as his body moved. His dark navy-blue skin lit by the sunlight that beamed down upon him, revealing his long, curled, grey horns that pierced through his skull, pushing past his black braided hair.
‘Enough’ he roared. ‘The whisperer is in this forest witch. And I have been told you know where’.
‘And you have been told wrong, demon spawn’ she laughed, pushing herself up so her back rested against the tree.
‘I suppose you don’t want your other leg either then. A crippled witch is what you wish to be?’. The witches smile widened.
‘I have always been told that those burned by the touch of demons are the easiest to trick. As gullible as they come, and you are providing this well, Dirziri is it? Or do you prefer the dammed one, or demon spawn?’ she laughed.
‘Call me what you wish witch, but soon you will have no tongue to speak – well, once you have said what I wish to hear’.
‘So, you want me to lie? And say what you want?’. Dirziri lifted his war hammer once more.
‘I suppose so’ he muttered, resting the giant hammer on his shoulder, taking aim at the witches one remaining leg.
‘Then what is it you wish to hear?’ the witch said. Without reply Dirziri brough the hammer down on the witch’s right leg; the shattering of bones was so loud and violent it sent birds flying from the branches above and echoed for what seemed to be miles. Though her face remained still and smiling.
‘You know what I wish to hear witch’ he growled, swinging his hammer back up to rest on his shoulder, leaving the witch’s shattered leg resting in the forest floor below.
‘That I do – and yet I won’t speak of it’ she snapped back, blood now leaking from the gaps in between her crimson stained teeth. Dirziri stood back from the mangled witch and glared deep into the glowing forest surrounding him. For 3 long days and nights he had been searching Spawnless Forest for the witch, not to mention his 2 week journey through the treacherous mountains and deserts of Anosloth to finally reach Kindeath, and now he had found her, she didn’t want to open her mouth. Though he knew he had come to far to give up now, although that wasn’t an option to begin with. He wanted the whisperers bloodied head on a stick, and he wanted the crystal gauntlet it held within the hell like cave. For too many years it has owned this forest, striking fear into the most experienced and celebrated warriors of Kindeath. But soon, its reign would end.
‘You really think you can kill the whisperer of the shadows, demon spawn? – for over 2000 years this creature has feasted amongst the flesh of men just like you. And it will continue to for 2000 more to come’ the witch said through gargled giggles behind him.
‘I was a man witch – but not now’ Dirziri said. ‘There is a reason the whisperer hasn’t called forth to me the past 3 nights; I can smell its fear, for its end is coming near’. The witch laughed.
‘I have heard this speech before dammed one, and it won’t be the last’.
‘Won’t it? I can assure you it will be’ he growled, turning around to face the witch once more. Her skin now pale and lifeless, as blood gushed out in more urgent clumps.
‘It will make no difference’ she smiled. ‘I can assure you that.
‘I’ve had enough of this witch’ Dirziri muttered. ‘Tell me how to find it’.
‘It is only found when it wants to be demon spawn. If it doesn’t find your flesh appealing, it will call upon someone else’.
‘Where is its cave?’
‘It is where it wishes to be, appearing and disappearing at the whisperers will; it cannot be simply found’. Dirziri scowled and took a few steps closer to the witch’s paralysed body.
‘That doesn’t answer my question witch’ he hissed.
‘But it does’ she snapped back. ‘And there will be no further information given’.
‘Very well’ came his reply. Dirziri hatched his war hammer to his side, his 4 foot dragon bone and blood crystal sword hung from his back just beside it; and made his way across the thick brush to stand before the witch. Her eyes rolling to the back of her skull, before flicking back to focus on him.
‘I could leave you to die here – but I will not grant you that peace’ he said, kneeling down beside her. ‘Witches of your kind do not deserve a peaceful death’. The witch laughed.
‘We are not too unalike demon spawn’.
Dirziri didn’t reply, instead he closed his eyes and held his hands above the witch. Thick brush laid amongst her mangled and shattered legs, covering them in odd patterns.
‘In fact, we are quite similar’ she smiled. ‘Therefore, I’m sure your death will be as painful as mine’.
‘You serve demons witch – I defeated them with no more than the hands of a mere mortal. We are not alike’ he said, a green glow beginning to illuminate from his hands. He could feel the essence surging through his arms and into his palms, a growing power collecting and morphing; waiting to be release into the realm of the living.
‘You do serve a demon, dammed one – you are just yet to know it’ the witch growled. ‘When it finds you, and skins you, and uses your skull to drink upon – you will realise how foolish and arrogant you are’. She let out a painful laugh, her chest tensing as she did. With a sudden jolt, there was a hissing sound as a small green orb formed above Dirziri’s hands, floating and glowing with an illuminance brighter than 7 suns. Sending sparks of green light burning into the physical realm. Dirziri opened his eyes to meet the witch’s.
‘When he does find me witch, it will be his skull I drink upon’ he said, before releasing his hands and allowing the glowing orb to fall upon the witch below. In only seconds her broken and mangled body was engulfed in a burning green flame, which ate away at her skin and muscle, and travelled beyond to eat upon the bark of the tree behind her. The witch didn’t scream in pain, or rive around in an attempt to stop the fire. Instead she sat still, smiling, staring at Dirziri; the green flames eating away at her chard flesh, her face now a skull painted with the melted remains of what use to be skin. And although she now had no facial features to look upon, he could tell she was still laughing a silent laugh, as her vocal cords cease to exist. The fire grew past her and engulfed the rest of the tree, reaching the branches above, causing a green inferno of smoke and roaring flame; sending burning chucks of wilderness falling from grace, to lay burned and smoking on the forest floor below.