My friends …
Ro’s mind went blank. Instincts took control.
The stallions crashed their hooves to the ground, rending the hard earth and sending clouds of dust billowing into the air. Ro rolled to the side, dodging the iron hooves and tumbling across the cold ground. His chest exploded with a renewed fury, sending waves of pain pulsing through him. He ignored them. All that mattered was his companions. He had to help them, to save them … to save her.
His breath heaving, Ro stumbled to his feet. He eyed his greatsword, now covered with a blanket of dust upon the ground behind the two mighty stallions. The undead beasts whipped around to face him, their rotting muscles twisting with power. Digging their menacing hooves into the ground, they charged, ripping through the swirling fog like battle rams of death. Roaring, Ro raised his claws, and stormed in.
Ro darted around the stallions, the sharp claws of his good hand tearing through rotting flesh. A sharp pain cut through his body, and he felt a rush of blood flow down his muscled back. Turning about, his eyes darted over the undead abominations. Blood dripped from the sword of one of the skeleton riders. Growling, Ro bolted in, his claw ripping the face of one of the stallions. His breath burned, and his body hung heavy with exhaustion.
He ignored it.
The mighty stallion reared up, and with a sickening thud, crashed down upon his chest, pinning him to the barren earth. His body seared like a fearsome inferno. He could not move, could not breathe, could not escape. The other stallion appeared above him, its hollow eyes boring into him, taunting him. He tried to release a devastating breath of lightning, tried to decimate the undead beast upon him, but could not. His ribs cracked under the tremendous pressure. His vision wavered, growing black. There was no escape now.
Suddenly, two white arrows streaked across Ro’s vision, piercing the skulls of the skeleton riders and sending shards of bone soaring through the air. The skeletons fell to the ground. Two more arrows then streaked out of the fog, crashing into the rotting flank of the stallion atop Ro. The stallion reared, its head whipping about to find the mysterious archer. Yet two more arrows stuck into the flank of the other stallion, sending it staggering back in rage. Ro’s breath rushed into his lungs, bringing with it a renewed sense of determination.
He knew the two beasts would not be distracted for long. He had to think, had to defeat the two menaces, had to save his companions. He saw his mighty greatsword upon the ground, not four paces away. He smiled.
Crawling to his feet, ignoring his protesting body, Ro dove for his greatsword. His hand gripped the handle, and with an enormous strength, he heaved it up to his shoulder. He only had one chance, one chance to save his companions. His eyes burned with a frenzied light, and they glared at the two stallions in raging contempt. The undead beasts turned to face him, their rotting muscle rippling with an unholy power. Ro growled. The stallions charged.
As the mighty beasts stormed toward him, it seemed as if time were screeching to a halt. With a roar of denial, ignoring the searing pain crippling his broken body, Ro brought his greatsword down in front of him, its sharp point shining out like a holy spear of light. With a sickening crack, the undead stallion rammed into the greatsword, impaling itself upon the razor edge. But it did not stop — did not even seem to notice the greatsword piercing its chest. Another explosion of pain rocked Ro’s body as the stallion crashed into him, sending him staggering backward. But he did not fall. He had too much to lose. Planting his feet firmly into the ground, Ro locked his eyes upon his greatsword, which was stuck in the rotting flesh of the stallion. With a rush of breath, he unleashed a devastating blast of lightning upon the sword, sending a crackling surge of energy coursing through the mighty sword. A blinding nova of lightning exploded out from the sword, incinerating the inside of the beast.
After one, final attempt at charging Ro, the stallion fell to the ground, lifeless.
But there was little time to celebrate. Undeterred by the loss of its companion, the remaining stallion rushed at Ro, its hooves thundering against the ground with an unearthly fury. Ro tried to move, tried to dodge the oncoming storm, but his body hung still. His mind screamed in protest, but he could do no more.
NO! I must … save …
Andromeda burst from the swirling fog, landing upon the undead stallion. Her claws ripped into its rotting flesh, and her jaws tore at its hide. With a surge of power, she leaped off the beast, twisting gracefully in the air. Her halberd appeared in her hand, and with a gruesome thud, she landed upon the stallion’s head, driving her halberd through its thick skull. A feral growl escaped her lips, and she pounced from the fallen beast, tearing her halberd out with her, unleashing a spray of black blood and rotting gore. Whipping about, her halberd disappeared, and she landed silently upon the ground, licking the tainted blood from her lips. The stallion collapsed to the ground behind her.
Andromeda looked up to Ro, her eyes twinkling with delight, and she gave him a soft smile. Letting out a sigh of relief, Ro returned a weak smile before collapsing to the ground. With the rush of battle past, a surge of pain crashed over him, bringing him to his knees. His broken hand burned with a renewed fury, and his crushed ribs groaned with protest at his every breath. His head grew faint, and his vision wavered. His chest heaved, and he let out another cough, splattering the uncaring ground with his lifeblood. A numbing weakness settled over his body, and a wave of exhaustion pummeled his will.
Alarmed, Andromeda rushed over to Ro, her tail waving with worry. Her soft fur pressed against him and she tried to call to him, tried to breach his wall of pain. Ro noticed nothing. Every heartbeat seemed an agonizing century, dragging him to the ground. Another cough, and more of his blood covered the ground. His mind grew distant.
I tried … I tried to fight off the Shadow. But I failed. I failed as the Beacon. Failed as a companion, as a friend.
His mind rushed back to the shrill, pained scream he had heard. His determination started to boil back to life within.
I … must … save …
Shakily, he glanced up, his eyes scanning the swirling fog. Beside him, Andromeda jumped with pleasure, overjoyed to see a sign of life from him. The simmering boil had sparked into a steady flame, gaining intensity into a raging inferno. He had to save her, had to save his friend. He had to save Margaret.
Ro rushed to his feet, growling with the effort. His muscles pulsed with a rejuvenated life, casting away the pain crippling his body. Only his companion's pain mattered. He had to save her. Andromeda let out a joyous purr, her tail brushing against his battered body.
“Ro! Are you alright?”
Ro gave no answer, only grumbling a single name. “Margaret,” he muttered.
She studied him for a moment, before nodding, her sharp eyes soft with understanding. “Let’s go, shall we?”
The two companions pushed into the dense fog, Ro leaning upon Andromeda for support. Around them the battle raged on, the undead horde trying to smother any sign of life. Bolts of water and shadow crashed overhead, washing away the vile creatures in a torrent of death. White arrows streaked across the battlefield, striking undead from their unholy perches. But the two companions ignored it, trudging onward with an iron determination. They had to save her. A pair of skeleton warriors stumbled into their path, but Andromeda made short work of them, fading into the surrounding darkness before shattering their skulls with her mighty halberd and crushing their bones with her terrifying strength.
They had to save her.
As they pushed onward, the fallen form of Margaret appeared through the fog, laying lifeless upon the ground. Growling, Ro rushed over to her, Andromeda close behind.
Margaret lay prone, her body unmoving. Her black arm sat dormant, and not a trace of ice was to be found upon her. But that was not what caught Ro’s attention. Branded across the back of her neck was a blistering hand print, withering like a touch from death. Ro collapsed in horror, his mind swirling with grief.
What could have d
one such a thing? What vile minion of the Shadow brought this upon her?
His heart heavy, turned her over, his eyes gazing upon gentle her face, which lay cold and pale.
Suddenly, Andromeda let out a cry of alarm, and Ro jumped to his feet, his mind burning for vengeance. He had to avenge her. Andromeda leaped next to him, her halberd held out defensively, her body fading away. He did not care what had alarmed Andromeda, did not care what monstrosity would charge out of the swirling fog. He would kill it. He had to avenge Margaret. He had no weapon, had no defense, but it did not matter. His rage billowed ever hotter. He had to avenge her.
Raising his claws before him, Ro studied the fog. Steadily trudging out of the haze was the frail figure of a zombie, a ragged cloak draping over its rotting form. Its hands rested by its side, and wispy strands of frost emanated from its palms. Behind the abomination were three skeleton warriors, their sharp swords raised in front of them. A furious growl escaped Ro’s lips. His body screamed with pain, but it was drowned out in his rage. His eyes locked with Andromeda’s, and she gave him a gentle nod.
“Go,” she whispered to him. “I’ll handle the skeletons.”
She licked her lips and faded into the everlasting embrace of the shadows. Ro nodded. Turning back to the dreadful zombie, he flexed his legs, and with a burst of power, he charged at the scum.
Ro thundered across the hard ground, his uninjured hand ready at his side, its sharp claws targeted on the zombie's thin throat. Letting out a vicious roar, he rushed past. His claws flashed, tearing at the creature’s ragged cloak. But there was no blood, no ripping of flesh. Ro glanced down to his claw, only to find the shreds of the ragged cloak hanging loose in his fingers.
The zombie had dodged.
Snarling, he threw the cloth to the ground, and charged once again at the zombie.
His claws slashed once more, this time connecting with the creature's arm. Rotting flesh tore apart, and black blood sprayed out of the wound. The zombie hardly noticed. Its frosty hand whipped across, forcing Ro to bolt to the ground, just managing to avoid the touch of death. His body cried in protest, and his ribs erupted with an even fiercer pain. His rage would not sustain him forever.
Before he could regain his footing, the zombie’s hand came crashing down. Ro rolled to the side, his breath coming in short gasps. Eyeing his opponent, he saw the ground grow withered and black under the zombie's touch. An image of the brand across Margaret’s neck filled his mind, overwhelming his thoughts. The zombie’s hollow eyes mocked him, mocked his despair. Screaming, Ro exploded to his feet, ignoring the raging pain coursing through him.
He had to avenge her.
His claws flashed.
He had to avenge her.
A bolt of lightning shot out of his maw.
He had to avenge her.
A feral roar filled the air.
He had to avenge her.
Black blood rained down upon him.
He had to avenge her.
He had to …
Soft fur pressed against his skin, freeing him from his fury. Andromeda stood by him, her tail caressing his back, soothing his pain. Ro collapsed to his knees, his breath coming in faint gasps. The wretched zombie lay in shreds at his feet, and its frosty hands hung still. But Ro felt little sense for celebration. No matter how much he tore the zombie’s rotting flesh from its bones, no matter how much he cried out in denial, it did not change Margaret’s fate. She still lay lifeless, the touch of despair branded across her neck.
Shrugging Andromeda away, Ro crawled over to Margaret, an overwhelming shadow of grief covering his mind. He had avenged her, but it mattered not. He could not save her. Ro lifted her up into his arms and stared helplessly at her soft face. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he fought them back.
I tried, praise the Light. I tried …
Around Ro the battle grew silent and still. Beside him Andromeda had drug over another fallen body; a man, bloodied and torn. Short, black hair matted with blood and sweat clung to his head, and a short, ragged beard shadowed his face. Across his face was a blistering hand print, identical to the one seared into Margaret’s neck. Ro glanced over to him, and a furious rush of emotions crashed over him.
Not the Captain too!
Ro had failed. He was no leader, no Beacon. He was nothing. He had failed. A simmering rage began to boil to life within, and he wanted to lash out, to cast the blame on another, but he knew he could only blame himself.
The other companions approached behind him, their footsteps sloshing through the bloody ground. Upon noticing Margaret, Fasto let out a whimper, falling to his knees and letting out cries of, “Fasto friend” and, “Fasto help.” SmibSmob moved to stand next to Andromeda, his face pale with exhaustion, while Nalgene bolted over to Margaret, his eyes swimming with fear.
“Durned orc,” Nalgene mumbled to himself. “Had to go and get yerself hurt, didn’t ye?”
Rushing over, he placed his rough hands upon Margaret’s chest, and a swirling cascade of water washed over her body. Margaret did not move. Growling, Nalgene redoubled his efforts, a torrent of water flowing out of his hands. Ro glanced up, his eyes locking upon Nalgene. At the sight of the gnome his thoughts were thrown back to nights before, where the gnome had insisted they abandon the Captain. A red wall of rage formed within Ro’s mind.
It's all his fault.
In his heart he knew it was not true, but he did not care.
It was he who insisted that we abandon Captain Osann, that we venture on our own into the Shadow. He urged us away from the Flame, away from all that Mariah had bestowed upon us. He claimed the Captain was a traitor, claimed that he was with the Shadow. Now look what happened. Margaret is cold in my arms, and the Captain is still by my side. He’s the traitor. After the years we stood beside each other in the ghastly prison, this is how he repays our friendship. He’s the traitor. I didn’t fail. He did.
Ro exploded forward, shoving Nalgene off Margaret and throwing him to the ground. Ro’s face twisted into a mask of rage as a wild growl rumbled from his throat.
“It’s your fault!” Ro screamed at the gnome. He stood up, towering over the miserable creature. “You begged us to come this way! You urged us to abandon the Captain! Now look at what you’ve done! Both Margaret and the Captain are dead! Cast your precious water over them as you will, it won’t change their fate! You’ve killed them! You’re a traitor!”
The companions stood stunned around him. Fasto looked up from his whimpering, his eyes wide with fear. SmibSmob stammered, at a loss for words, while Andromeda merely looked away, shaking her head in disappointment. Nalgene stared up at Ro, his face blank with confusion. The gnome glanced at the two bodies on the ground before locking eyes with the enraged draconian, and inner fire burning deep within.
“Eh, ye durned dragon,” Nalgene started, rising to his feet and brushing off the dust. “Ye think this is me fault? Ye think that I be a traitor?”
The gnome shook with fury, and his fists clenched in rage, water forming within their grasp. Ro wavered. Suddenly he had the feeling the gnome were towering over him, but he did not relent.
“Ye think that because o’ me, Margaret and this other dolt are gone?” Nalgene growled. “Open yer bloody eyes, ye bastard! That corpse ain’t even yer sacred Captain, and even if it were, I wouldn’t give a dwarf’s hairy arse if he were dead! As fer the durned orc, it’s the bloody Shadow! This ain’t yer mum's bloody, fluffed-up children’s story, ye bastard! There ain’t always gonna be a happy endin'! She knew what she was gettin' into, she coulda stayed with the scum Osann, but she didn’t! So, listen here, ye bloody sac o’ shit, don’t be callin' me the traitor, cause while ye were here mopin' about how bloody awful ye feel, the rest o’ us were keepin' the undead scum off yer scaly arse!”
Ro shrunk before Nalgene. He knew the gnome was right. He knew he was just casting the blame from himself, but he could not admit it.
I failed … no! He failed, right?
Ro glan
ced down at the bloodied man beneath him. Examining closer, he saw it was indeed not the Captain. He raised his gaze back to the gnome, his resolve crumbling.
He tried to argue with Nalgene, tried to fire back at the traitor, but when his mouth moved only silence escaped.
Nalgene glared up at him, as a billowing flame would rage beneath a dry tree. “Eh, ye durned dragon, wha’d’ye be tryin' to say?” the gnome roared. “C’mon, ye bloody dolt, spit it out!”
Ro had no answer. His words caught in his throat, refusing to give way. The red wall of rage crumbled to ashes in his mind, replaced by a clawing pit of grief.
“Brother,” SmibSmob started, his voice soft. But before he could continue, Nalgene cut him off with an icy glare.
“Eh? Nothin', ye bloody dragon?” Nalgene screamed. Ro could only stare. “Don’t be callin' me a traitor. Get yer head outta yer bloody arse.”
With that, the gnome relaxed, his fury played out. Sighing, he glanced away, exhaustion weighing his burly shoulders down. Ro stood silent, his fists clenching and relaxing rhythmically. He did not know what to think, what to feel. The whole world had come crumbling down around him, and he had no hope of repairing it.
The surrounding land stood quiet, as if eagerly waiting for the tension to snap, and none of the companions dared break the solemn silence. Fasto made his way over to the fallen Margaret, enveloping her in his warm embrace. SmibSmob moved next to his brother and placed a comforting hand across his shoulders. Andromeda studied them; her expression unreadable.
The swirling fog had begun to clear out, allowing the falling sun to pierce through the darkness with its pale light. As the companions eyed the lands about them, a flickering light appeared in the west, growing steadily closer. Ro watched the approaching light, and his sharp draconian eyes made out a humanoid figure brandishing a torch in the distance. The man donned a light mail with crimson cloth and held a mighty greatsword at rest on his shoulder. As the man approached, Ro saw his rough hair and his shadowy beard. He saw his dark eyes, filled with a wisdom well past his age.
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