A gust of wind blew, and the crunching of branches let us know something was approaching. Silas held up a fist, causing everyone to halt. The wind blew again, a lot colder than normal, and chills spread across my body.
Wrong. Something is very wrong.
In the blink of an eye, multiple figures shot out from the forest with hideous screams. From their palms, dark magical orbs shot at the soldiers, and my heart stopped when I realized what we were up against.
The Undead.
I had never seen one before, never thought it possible. It had been centuries since one of their kind had even been spotted. And that meant there was an enemy out there even worse than King Ulric.
A necromancer.
The soldiers wailed out as the orbs struck various parts of their bodies. They were damned now.
Based on lore told over the centuries, the Undead were created by a dark necromancer, who, instead of raising them fully like the necromancers before him, raised them only partially—their souls stuck in an in-between. In other words, they would completely bend to his will. Those touched by this necromancer's power carried the ability to turn the living into creatures just like them, spreading their curse with only one hit of their power, thus adding to their master's numbers.
But that was legend for the Mages that were afflicted by their magic. Humans would die an excruciating death, their soul forever lost as the darkness spread through their body. I didn’t know which fate was worse.
After the rise of the Mage who created such a curse, the practice was outlawed, and those with the gift in their blood were put to death.
How had one remained?
Silas quickly acted, ordering his men to attack and angling his steed in the direction of the battle.
The Undead’s appearance was chilling. Their skin and lips lacked color…like that of a corpse. What hair they did have was stringy and limp, and their eyes were completely black, even the whites. A black, inky pattern swirled all over their skin, and black fog spread around their feet.
They moved so quickly, some of the soldiers dodging, some unable to move before an orb struck their bodies. They even attacked the horses, Roland’s getting blasted before knocking him off the side. He hit the ground hard, then staggered to his feet.
I felt helpless, petrified, but after a beat, I realized the Undead were not attacking the Mages. Only the Otacians.
Why?
In front of me, another orb struck a soldier, and he dropped to the ground and convulsed; the screams of terror were overwhelming my senses.
Roland was just steps from me, his sword impaling an Undead in front of him, only he didn’t see the one from behind.
It was going to kill him.
I didn't know why I cared, but I found myself yelling, “Roland!”
He turned sharply, hazel eyes blown wide as he beheld the creature about to attack. He wouldn’t have time to deflect.
Without thinking, I quickly retrieved a sword lying on the ground, dropped by that fallen soldier. The grip I had on it was awkward due to the cuffs, but I angled it quickly before plunging it into the creature’s back, its black blood splattering all over Roland's front.
Roland was panting as he gaped at me. There wasn’t enough time to do anything as an orb shot out from another one of them and hit Edmund in his right leg followed by his left arm. He cried out, and Elowen screamed as he slammed to the ground.
The creature slowly prowled over Edmund, who was now sobbing as he gripped his infected limbs. The pain that came from being marked by an Undead was said to be unbearable.
I saw it grin at him, and I knew it planned to torture him, draw out his suffering. The soldiers around were too preoccupied trying to save their own lives to stop it.
“Hey!” I howled at the creature. It craned its neck to glimpse at me. “Come get me, you ugly bastard!”
It cocked its head to the side, assessing its prey. It was in front of me in what felt like an instant, but before I could attack, Silas’s sword was through its neck, black blood gushing out.
It screeched as it fell to the ground, twitching rapidly before going limp. Panting, I met Silas’s golden stare, then Edmund’s, who looked at Silas and me with broad, tearful eyes. Was he aware of his fate?
I quickly observed our surroundings. The remaining soldiers finally managed to slay what was left of the Undead. A handful of horses had been killed in the attack, Roland’s being one of them.
My focus drifted back to Edmund. I was frozen, my heart wrenching despite everything as I watched him cry.
