Elder Lich Saga: Awakening

by Michael Sisa

  “Who is that soldier?” mumbled Moonsol. He slapped the reigns of his mount. “Do we have someone that strong in our city? Why didn’t he show himself till now?!”

  No one answered. No one was able to. The group continued riding forth, towards the direction where the unknown soldier went. Seconds quickly turned to minutes, and they loomed closer to their destination.

  From beyond, they heard numerous screeching sounds accompanied by a soft, rumbling one. Everyone furrowed when they saw a massive number of goblins headed their way. By estimate, there were a thousand of them.

  Lancelot and Moonsol glanced at each other. Lancelot pulled out the large slab of metal on his back which he fondly called his partner. He roared, “Knights! Charge straight ahead!”

  His men shouted their battle cries. They gnashed their teeth as they gripped their weapons tight. In a few seconds’ time, they would clash with the army of goblins headed their way.

  But then, Lancelot suddenly pulled the reigns of his mount. He halted. “Stop! Do not engage! Hold your positions!”

  Everyone wore confused looks upon their faces, but they followed their orders regardless. Losing the advantage of a charge may cost them their lives, but everyone believed in their Commander. He was a man of good judgment. He must have noticed something that they have not.

  True enough, an unexpected scenario occurred. The army of goblins avoided their army and instead fled towards the west, the opposite direction of Rube Fortress. A few moments passed. The silence of the night ensued.

  “What the hell was that?” said Moonsol. His voice echoed in the night.

  “Those goblins… They are fleeing from something,” said Lady Sophia.

  Lancelot nodded. “I can’t think of any other reason than that.”

  The three glanced at each other. They looked ahead. In front of them were numerous small hills. They were sure that they would soon meet the source of fear of the goblins that had just fled. What kind of monster was it? They felt a chill crawl to their skin.

  Lancelot snarled, “Staying here won’t get us anywhere. Let’s go!”

  Horses neighed, and the group once again moved forth. They easily passed through the small hills, eventually arriving at the small lake which clearly reflected the moons above. Its water was serene, almost enchanting. There was not even a slight hint of ripple in its water.

  It was quiet. Eerily quiet.

  “W-What’s that?” said a soldier.

  Everyone glanced to the place he was pointing at. On the opposite side where their group was currently at, just right after crossing the lake, a large shadow stood. They were unable to clearly make out what it was, but a silver glint was vivid on its body.

  Lancelot signaled his men to stay on guard and to remain quiet. One by one, they dismounted. Their hands firmly held their unsheathed blades.

  “Let’s go,” whispered Lancelot.

  Careful not to make the slightest sound, they approached the large shadow. Their loudly pumping hearts seemed to give their locations away. The large shadow was probably the reason why the goblins fled the area.

  As they inched closer to it, the putrid scent in the air intensified. Lancelot breathed a sigh of relief that the colossal figure was unable to detect them until now. It remained standing still amidst the darkness of the night.

  Just when he was about to make the first strike, Lancelot stopped. His eyes widened in surprise, and so did his men behind him. Now that they had a careful look, they realized that the colossal figure was headless. Blood dripped down its neck.

  Not far from where it stood, a large head was seen on the ground. Its green face was filled with numerous brown spots, and its large canines were prominent as it remained smugly grinning. For a moment, they felt the urge to scream when they saw its bulging eyes.

  Even the nameless soldiers from Rube realized it: it died without knowing that it was dead. And such realization intensified their fear. Who killed it?

  Lancelot’s ears twitched. He snarled, “Who is it? Show yourself! I know you are there!”

  Immediately, everyone assumed their battle stance. Metals clanked as they pulled out their weapons from the scabbard. The accompanying magicians readied their magic.

  From within the shadows created by the adjacent hills, a voice spoke, “Lady Sophia? Is that you?”

  Sophia was taken by surprise for a second. Though hesitant, she replied, “Who is it? Who are you?”

  The sound of lone footsteps echoed. A few moments later, a man emerged from the shadows. His skin was dark, almost scorched. And his black hair was haphazardly tied to the back. His torn leather armor was filled with numerous blotches of blood.

  “I thought I was going to die here. Someone came, huh? Just my luck,” said the man. By now, the numerous scars that ran through his face were evident. He was probably one of the ugliest men they had ever seen. But at the same time, his eyes held great beauty that depicted an intense resolve that could be felt even from the distance.

  He coughed blood. He mumbled to himself, “Master said I improperly used the power. I would have died if he hadn’t intervened. Still, this is pretty awesome stuff.”

  He gazed at Sophia. He broadly smiled. “Lady Sophia—this lowly foot soldier had completed his duty! I, Raymond Falxen, have successfully driven away the enemies! This soldier had slain the Goblin King!”

  Lady Sophia opened then closed her mouth. At the corner of her eyes, she saw that everyone else were also slack-jawed as they stared at the headless corpse before them. If their deductions were correct, then that overly bloated creature was the Goblin King.

  No one was able to utter a single word.

  The wind gently blew, creating a mellifluous sound amidst the silence of the night.

  Raymond suddenly fell down the ground.

  Chapter 11: Bedtime Story

  Jiablu peered through the window of his room. The curtains violently flapped as a gust of wind blew. Though it was night, the city was filled with sounds of footsteps. From his spot, he was able to see the numerous soldiers moving about.

  Ever since he broke contact with Raymond, his mind turned into maelstrom. That soldier did it for her. Jiablu was sure. But why? Once again, he was unable to fully understand the meaning behind the concept of love.

  He felt dazed as he tried to come up with an answer to his question. But he found none.

  Three knocks were heard before the door creaked open. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air as a woman with blonde hair entered. Her chasuble hung past her knees, and on her shoulder was the insignia of a rose and shield.

  She gently placed the tray she held on the table. “You okay? Everything will be fine. Don’t worry. Commander Lancelot said that we should be safe as long as we stay inside this fort. Here, have some snacks.”

  Jiablu stared at the small piece of bread and the cup of tea. After he turned human, eating had become a blissful experience. He had never known that food could be so great, so exhilarating. He heard a giggle as he wiped the drool on his chin.

  He was about to pick up his share when Faith’s voice echoed. “Wait. Manners. Young man, what should you say?”

  He glared. This was the third time she asked that exact question. Jiablu snorted, “Yet again, a mere priest is telling me to be grateful?”

  Faith sighed. She was almost becoming used to this. “Yes. Young man, when someone gives you something, it is perfectly normal to say your thanks.”

  Jiablu reached out for the bread, but his hand somehow refused to touch it. Should he give in and follow the rules of human society? He paused for a few seconds.

  “You shall be rewarded for this. Someday,” he eventually said. He felt euphoria the moment the bread touched his tongue. Eating was indeed a blissful experience.

  From the corner of his eyes, he saw that Faith’s lips had curled into a smile. She shrugged. “That’s how you say thank you, eh? Cute. Well, not a bad start I guess. You really like eating, huh?”

  J
iablu would have casually responded with a yes, but his mouth was full of bread that he was left unable to speak.

  After Jiablu finished his food, he once again remembered the question he has trouble finding the answer. His head throbbed in frustration.

  “Priest, perhaps you know the answer to my question,” said Jiablu.

  Faith tilted her head to the side. With the sound of soldiers moving about as background, she asked, “Question? What is it?”

  “Ever since I’ve heard of it, I have been curious about this thing called love. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot grasp its meaning,” said Jiablu. He noticed that Faith’s eyes slightly grew wide.

  “L-Love? H-Hey, aren’t you too young for those things?” she said. She glanced at the door before she added, “You want to know what love is? Seriously?”

  Faith was sure that if someone else was inside the room, they would probably be laughing from their conversation. Jiablu nodded once. “Yes.”

  There was an awkward silence. Faith once again stared at the door, then to Jiablu. The young man’s eyes were focused, and she knew that he was seriously asking his question. She breathed a gulp of air, then exhaled.

  “Love… how should I say this? You are asking this because old man Gaston told you about it, right? Listen. Love is a complicated thing. But, basically, it comes down to one thing: Love is giving your all for a person—without expecting anything in return,” said Faith. She violently blushed upon completing the statement.

  Jiablu remembered Raymond. That soldier was ready to die and to exchange his soul for that woman. Then, was that love? Why was it that a weak and insignificant existence like him was capable of loving another? Jiablu pondered with all his might, with all his soul, but he was still unable to find an answer.

  What the priest said was not enough. He knew. “I don’t understand. The old human from before… he told me that love is what gives him purpose. If love is merely giving everything, then what differentiates it from pity, from kindness? If that is love, then how does such insignificant thing give life significance? How does it give someone his purpose?”

  “That… is…” Her voice trailed off.

  If there was another person inside the room right now, Faith would have long pleaded that person for help. Unfortunately, she was alone.

  Faith wanted to hide, but her feet remained rooted in the ground. She was still young. She held no further answer to his question.

  Jiablu waited hopefully, but the priest did not elaborate. What a useless human, he thought.

  “Hey, are you alright? You look… horrible,” whispered Faith. Now that she had a careful look, she noticed that Jiablu’s face was paler than usual. Black marks encircled his eyes, and his cheeks had started to assume a sunken appearance.

  Jiablu shot a quizzical stare. He said, “What is it, priest?”

  “Have you been sleeping well?” she sternly said. Now that she had thought about it, she had never seen Jiablu sleep since they had first met. She was a light sleeper, thus she would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night. Whenever she took a walk, she would see him there outside—silently gazing at the distance.

  Each and every time it happened, Faith was unable to utter a single word. The eyes of the child as he gazed into the far horizon were deep, almost piercing. Those were the eyes of someone that had lost everything. And as a fellow human being, Faith could not find herself taking the child out of the solace of that silence.

  “Have you been sleeping well?” she repeated after receiving no reply. Jiablu stared at him, and she stared back. The black circles in the child’s eyes were becoming more vivid.

  “I have no need for such trivial thin—,” said Jiablu.

  “Trivial?! A child like you—no… everything that lives—need to sleep! What do you think you are? Some undead that requires no nourishment? Someone that needs nothing but hatred in order to sustain its life? Is that it?” said Faith. Her words were spat in quick successions and by the time she was finished, she was already gasping for air.

  “Do humans honestly believe that it is hatred that fuels the lives of the undead?” said Jiablu. His question was off-topic, and it took Faith by surprise. There was something eerie about his voice this time, but the priest was unable to pinpoint it.

  Faith nodded. “Of course. Can you think of anything else? According to research, miasma is born from hatred. Going by that logic, hatred is the root of all evil. It is the root of all undead. There’s no doubt about it.”

  A chuckling sound echoed inside the room. Jiablu’s eyes danced as he grinned. “Amusing. So, this is the extent of human knowledge?”

  Faith frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Jiablu did not reply. He walked towards the window and gazed at the twin moons above. He knew far better.

  Miasma was nothing but remnants of the soul. Scholarly speaking, it was the specks of dusts that remained after someone’s soul had dissipated. Since everything has a soul—from immovable rocks to flowing rivers, even to the tiniest of insects—miasma could be considered the detritus of life itself. The assumptions of these arrogant humans were utterly incorrect. Jiablu had never heard of something so laughable in his entire existence. Well, what could he expect from a race that regarded a mere Queen Fairy as god? He shrugged the thought off.

  “I guess asking someone like you is not a wise decision, priest,” said Jiablu. His voice turned monotonous as he airily added, “I will take into consideration that everything you have told me thus far is incorrect.”

  Faith felt an urge to retort. Her previous smile had completely slid down her face.

  Jiablu’s next words took Faith by surprise. “Priest, you came here in accordance to the order of your master, no? Ask. Tell me. What do you wish to know?”

  Master? Faith felt that Jiablu was pertaining to their Commander, Lancelot. Still, she was surprised that Jiablu knew her intentions. Just as he had assumed, she indeed came here in order to ask the questions the Knights of Tesma had been holding back in the last few days.

  “Once we get to the Kingdom, we will be required to report all that happened during our journey. I know that I shouldn’t be asking this, but I want to know. What happened in your village?” said Faith.

  Jiablu had long expected that they would be asking such questions sooner or later. He had long readied a reply. “I don’t remember.”

  It was an undesired response, but it was by far the safest. Responding with a complex story would easily risk being found out in the near future. By telling everyone that he held no memories of what had happened, Jiablu could evade questions with just a single answer. It was the conclusion he had come up with after considering all other possibilities.

  Faith bit her lips. She was unsure if the child was lying, or if the child was simply traumatized by what transpired. There had been numerous incidents before wherein someone completely lost memories of the traumatic experiences in their life. It was their mind’s simple mechanism to prevent it from breaking down. Without such horrifying memories, life would ensue.

  “I see,” she said. She had decided not to pursue the matter any further. “Then, I shall tell the Commander that.”

  She picked up the tray then went towards the door. Before she left, she once again reiterated, “Sleep. You need to sleep. Got that?”

  There was silence after the priest from the Order of Aquina left. Jiablu once again peered through the windows. From the distance, he could hear the shouts of bliss from the soldiers. He was sure that Lancelot and his men had finally returned from their expedition outside.

  “Good. We can finally leave soon,” said Jiablu. He remembered the words uttered by Faith before she left. “Sleep, huh? I have never considered that. Maybe the priest is right. I am indeed inside a weak shell after all.”

  He looked at the small bed at the corner of the room. It was made entirely of wood, with a thin sheet of cushion on top. The small worn out pillow was not enticing, but Jiablu’s interest was piqued by the idea o
f sleeping.

  After some thoughts, he had decided to do it. He slowly rested his body onto the bed. To his surprise, his eyes began to turn heavy—as though someone was pulling it down. He felt his strength leave his body. What was this sensation? He had never felt so weak and helpless before. He wanted to get out and stay up, but his body refused to listen. Slowly, his eyes closed.

  Without him realizing it, he dozed off into dreamland.

  Chapter 12: A New Journey

  Thousands of men and women gathered at the Central Plaza to gaze upon the corpse displayed near the fountain. Its body was hanging upside down against a wooden pole, and its severed neck was neatly placed upon the adjacent small wooden table.

  Those that were able to squeeze through the crowd and enter the front cringed in total disgust upon seeing it up close. And some turned pallid upon gazing at its eyes-opened, broadly grinning face. Mothers hushed their crying children, while men silently thanked their god that the creature was dead. If it were alive, there was no telling how many of them here would have died.

  A woman with crimson hair flowing down her waist cleared her throat. Her white armor shone brightly upon the touch of the morning sun. Everyone’s gaze landed unto her, then to the man beside her.

  With a serious face and a surprisingly loud voice, she proudly said, “Citizens of Rube! We present before you the corpse of the monster from the legends! The corpse of the King that had long defiled the lands of us, humans!”

  Her voice echoed through the heavens. “The corpse of the Goblin King!”

  Sounds of amazement followed, and claps and cheers immediately erupted. Petals somehow ceremoniously rained down from above.

  Lady Sophia grabbed the arm of the man beside her then shoved him forward. He almost stumbled, and after he scratched his scar-filled cheeks, silence had already turned absolute. Everyone awaited the introduction of the soldier beside their supreme Commander.

  She once again cleared her throat. “This soldier here—Raymond Falxen—made all these things possible! I am sure most of you have heard the news. The news about how a soldier—a single soldier—killed the invading army of monsters that threatened this land!”