[Amara]
Bone crumbled beneath my gauntlets. I rose - stark white fragments falling from my fingers - to assess my next opponents.
Three skeletons, clad in decrepit, piecemeal armor. No helmets. This will prove easy!
I charged at the first before the others could surround me, crossing the stone tower's roof. Before it could adjust, I'd already thrown a hook toward - and through - its skull. Shards of bone scattered over the tower's barrier, lost in the night.
As the decapitated skeleton fell, now truly lifeless, I spun around to find the others lunging toward me with inhuman steps.
In their hands glinted a rusted spear and blade, along with the barest traces of skill from a bygone time. I'd honor their duty by putting them to rest for good.
The spear whished by first. Gauntlets snapped to the shaft as I made it a tool of leverage to lift the feeble skeleton off its feet. I swung the dangling undead into the path of the other, cutting off its attempts to slit my throat. Once the two aligned perfectly, I delivered a solid kick to the first.
Like dominoes, the first toppled onto the other, ribcage shattered. The second was stunned from the crash and ensuing fall. Both were defenseless.
I reared back an arm and launched the confiscated spear at the fallen skeletons. The point flew between their purple-lit eyes, shattering both skulls and rooting itself into the floor.
Bullseye.
I took a breath, absorbing the scent of combat. An intoxicating fragrance. But I wouldn't let it distract me.
That's ten down. I scanned the tower of headless skeletons. No more appear to populate the other towers.
A loud snap echoed from below.
Seems they've converged on the bailey. If I'm fortunate, there's a few left for me.
I leapt atop the circular tower's barrier. Far below, in the overgrown courtyard, there must have been approximately thirty skeletons: armed, armored, and once-human, alongside similarly-reanimated war hounds, their fangs bared.
Opposite the loose gathering was one Warden, her silver plate gleaming in defiance of the cloudy night. Casually she trampled on the skull of another defeated skeleton, ending it permanently.
Unshaken by the death of their kin, the deathly crowd rushed forward - a stampede of purple lights.
Composed were the Warden's own green eyes, hardly interested in the incoming undead. She was more concerned with her long-stemmed pipe, taking in one last puff before letting it sit in her mouth, using freed hands to rest her halberd atop the metallic owls adorning her armor's shoulders.
I moved to join her. By then it was too late.
With sudden speed she forged a path through the rushing skeletons, halberd sweeping in a blurred dance forceful enough to devastate the battlements I stood atop. She appeared at the crowd's other end in seconds, split skulls spinning airborne in her wake.
But those at the group's side were too far away to be caught in her advance. They turned, slow as statues compared to the grey-haired Warden.
And what they found behind them?
Inescapable ruin.
Warden Slania dug her weapon in the earth, connecting two gauntlets to form a triangle between her thumbs and index fingers.
"Sunwave!" she incanted, voice carrying a raspy finality.
Inside the gap, a cone of white-gold energy burst forth, spreading to consume each and every contorting skeleton before her. The bailey shone with an overwhelming light.
And as soon as it was repelled, darkness returned.
Warden Slania moved fingers to remove her pipe, blowing a thick cloud over the many piles of dust before her.
A complete annihilation.
Not a single one left for me… I sighed.
My superior retrieved her halberd, then made her way across the bailey to the base of my tower.
"Done up there, Amara?" she called from below.
"The towers are clear," I nodded.
"Ha! Should've known! Seems we've cleaned out the whole keep, then."
"Most likely. I recommend we sweep the premises, to be certain."
"We'll get to that. First, I need to get a look at'cha."
What? She cannot be serious.
Warden Slania's expression focused and she spoke. "Flourishing Sprout."
The Warden raised an unfurling fist to reveal what posed as a small, mundane acorn. She regarded it a moment, pursed her lips, and heaved spit upon it. As always, I looked elsewhere as she did this. When my eyes returned, she'd already dropped the seed and prepared herself. The small thing was quickly swallowed by the dirt. In it's place emerged a green sprout.
This nascent sprout shot upward, blooming into a knee-high seedling. The stem turned brown, thickening and hardening. Then she stepped on it.
But it did not fall. No, instead Warden Slania ascended atop the adolescent tree's crown, its life cycle greatly accelerated. It grew and grew, and with the leafless tree's support, she steadily approached me. In a matter of seconds we stood eye-to-eye. I on a tower of stone, and her, of wood.
I brushed aside my dangling locks. "There is no need to check my condition. Mere skeletons are nothing more than target practice."
She chuckled, then regarded me with her scarred side. Faded gashes dug across the left of her rugged face - more handsome than beautiful - like the claw marks of a great beast. "True; these soulless saps are the definition of fodder. But that wasn't what I was getting at."
Warden Slania stepped off the tree's crown, meeting me at the raised barrier before dropping to the tower proper, examining the scattered, headless skeletons.
She glanced back between white vines of frizzy hair. "Your light magic. Any headway during our split?"
Ah. That.
"Over twenty attempts. Not a single successful cast." I landed behind her. "I had to resort to unarmed combat and power magic. Again."
"Well, that is what you're good at."
"But not what shall net me the title of Paladin. Not alone."
She stopped at the tower's other end, twiddling with her pipe. "Right. The promotional exam's a tough nut to crack, I'll give you that. But mind magic isn't like power magic. You can't force it."
"Then what else should I try?" I worked to keep my composure. "Tireless training makes me no strides, and neither do attempts in the field."
"Hrm… Hey, Amara," her deep tone quickly lightened. "Look over here!"
I eyed her. Changing the subject yet again…
Seeing as she was my superior, however, I did as instructed, meeting her at the barrier.
Our tower rose high as one of several stone beacons attached to the dilapidated keep, itself perched atop a hooked cliff. Extending from ground level, the rock formation curved toward the clouds like a colossal fang. Similar formations sprouted along the valley, each pointing north or south like earthen teeth over a sunken mouth. But only this one was large enough to support a stronghold.
"I suppose it's an impressive view," I spoke frankly, "but it's not as if we haven't seen grander."
"Not the scenery!" Warden Slania thrust a silver finger. "Down there."
Roughly in the direction of her spirited pointing hid a town in the shadow of an overhanging cliff, so far away as to resemble a walled-off semi-circle.
"With all due respect, I remember quite well the town that requested our assistance."
"I know you remember it," she snorted. "What I want to know is if you see it. And not just the exterior. Notice all those tiny lights? Fires and lamps and torches. Even from up here, they stab through night almost as well as my halberd."
"They all belong to someone. Is that what you mean to say?"
"Someone we're protecting. Right this moment."
She turned to me. "Know what would've happened if no one spotted skeletons in the area? If no message was sent to the Citadel? Given a week, maybe a month, their town would've been overrun. Sure, they'd eventually fight them off - but militia aren't equipped to handle undead. They'd gut people in the streets - break into homes and cut open those too young to understand what was killing them."
"A grisly possibility," I winced at the thought. "But when it comes to your point, I believe you've lost me."
"Fine, I'll quit beating around the bush. I'm saying, you shouldn't be in such a hurry to become Paladin. Sure, it'll advance your skills, but at the end of the day, you'll still be doing what matters."
"Defending the people?" I asked.
She smiled proudly. "And punching the same freaks of nature."
I thought on her point for a time, tasting the chilly breeze. "Warden Slania? Recall how you told me to always speak my mind to you? Despite our ranks?"
"Just as I remember saying you can drop the formality when we're alone. Not that you took that particular request very seriously."
I laughed. "Well, allow me to respectfully disagree. As a Paladin, I'll wield more power. Like you said, more demanding assignments would result in better opportunities to test - and surpass - my limits. To push myself ever further. To learn how to command my own team."
I turned away from the view, toward my superior. "At a rank equal to yours, I'd be refined; forged sturdier. A suitable weapon for the Order. And the sharper a sword I become, the more innocent lives I can preserve." I held out a gauntlet. "The more peace I can maintain."
"A weapon of the Order…?" her voice carried a strange tone.
"What? Did I say something funny?"
She thought a moment, before taking a deep puff from her pipe. "It's nothin'. Made me think about the past, is all."
"The past? Warden Slania, you-"
A sudden rattling cut the conversation short.
We spun around quickly. Across the tower, dozens of bones were shaking. Hovering.
What? My heart skipped a beat. These undead are no more - what wills them to rise again? This isn't making-
My eyes narrowed. Upon glancing at Warden Slania, I realized she already came to the same deduction.
"Be on guard," she reached for her halberd. "It's too late to stop the bonding."
She was right; as we spoke, the bones floated off the tower as if snatched away by an invisible hand, over the edge and down into the bailey.
We moved quickly, peering into the grassy courtyard. Awaiting below was exactly what we'd expected.
Gliding over the ground crept a large purple orb - its cloudy insides swirling and swishing about like a barely-contained storm. Spectral chains wrapped tightly around the dark exterior a dozen times over.
"An amalgamation," growled my superior.
She looked to me a second too quick for me to flatten my grin. A smile played across her face too. "You never change, do you? All that serious talk flies out the window when you're confronted with a fight! Even against an abomination like this!"
Below, the earlier bones neared the faceless creature along with others it must've collected beforehand. Countless arms, legs, spines, and more gravitated around it. They rotated. Connected. Assembled.
"Hmph," I licked my lips. "You speak of me like a wild beast! Even Templars can enjoy the rush of a good battle!"
I gauged the distance below, overcame my hesitation, and dove off the tower. Wind rushed by as I descended past wood and stone, my locks billowing back like a sun-bleached flag. The bailey's dense vegetation caught me as I rolled into a crouch.
The ongoing transformation met my rising eyes.
Protecting the dark orb were thick rows of interlocked arms, legs, and fingers, akin to a distorted, wicked ribcage. Violently whipping against the ground stretched the amalgamation's tail - a long series of spines. Six robust legs, fashioned from web-like formations of ribs, supported the massive undead.
But most disturbing of all was the "skull" that stared back at me.
This skull resembled no living creature's. Instead it drew forward in a drooping cone, several erratic cavities where eyes should've been. Under this hung a loosely-connected "mouth": an elongated jaw crowded by an irregular row of human teeth and canine fangs. The almost reptilian construct of human and canine bones - as well as other long-dead creatures I couldn't discern - noticed me at the courtyard's other end.
I replied by cracking my neck.
The sound of dampened metal came from behind me. "Let's direct that love of combat into something constructive, eh?" Slania gripped her halberd tight. "I've used too much mana for another Sunwave, and if this creature gets past us, the town's finished."
"A request, then?" I asked to my superior's confusion.
The amalgamation was fully assembled. It's body quaked strangely, bones creaking and shearing in a way resembling a demonic roar.
"Permission to take point?" I lifted my fists.
She chuckled. "I've missed assignments with you, little lady. Permission granted."
I looked upon the creature, its haunting visage pushing aside the frustrations I held within. Neither that or the excitement crawling along my skin could steal my attention, however.
As a Templar, I had work to do.
———————————————————————————–——————
"It's charging!" I called to my superior.
She lingered at the bailey's far end, at the base of the crumbling, mossy walls. Each passing moment the amalgamation rushed closer with its tail high.
A realization struck: Evading to her sides will provoke a swipe of its tail!
I readied my fist, summoning the stamina for a power art when the Warden suddenly charged at the creature herself. They met in a flash. As the undead's sharp head jabbed toward Warden Slania, she hit the ground and slid.
Gliding along the grass between the amalgamation's heavy stomps, she raised her halberd and grinded sparks against the ribcage above - the only defense between us and its vulnerable purple core.
Ribs split one after the next. Passing the final one, she pushed off the ground and shot past the confused tail, right on time to watch the undead bury itself into the bailey walls like a sidestepped bull. Decades-old dust kicked up from the collision; chunks of loosened stone dropped into the growing cloud.
I met my superior in the courtyard's center. But we didn't breathe easy. This was far from over.
A shadow shifted inside the dust. Then a claw of two dozen fingers ripped through and dispersed the cloud entirely. The revealed face was cracked, the net of bones at its back was damaged, and every bone in its makeshift ribcage was fissured.
Yet one blink was all it took for the mending to begin.
"More regeneration," my knuckles tightened. "Warden Slania, we cannot keep picking at it. We must make a decisive move."
"I know," she grimaced. "Wish the cursed thing would play nice and let us walk right up to its core."
Bones reconnected over the purple orb. It was safe once again.
"We know it's not particularly bright," I said. "Let us attempt something simple yet effective. Like a two-pronged attack."
"Doesn't get more basic than that." She gave a half smile. "But if it ain't broke…"
Fully healed, the undead hurtled toward us. It hardly expected us to scatter into opposite directions.
After a moment's hesitation, the massive undead chose to chase Warden Slania - possibly out a bestial desire for revenge. She met a wall and was forced to engage, stepping past strikes and deflecting tail swipes.
The attacks intensified. A flurry of tail thrusts flew at the Warden. Narrow dodges culminated in a strike aimed directly at her heart - before an athletic flip that defied her age led her over the attack. Another "scream" from the undead's quivering bones rang out - interrupted by a powerful uppercut. Owing to its tunnel vision. I'd slipped underneath its head and put gauntlet to bone.
Uprisen by the force, the amalgamation's pointed high - as did its forelegs.
Yet it recovered quickly. Said forelegs came down with the undead's entire weight, threatening to crush me.
I gave the angle a quick glance then leapt skyward. The stomp struck nothing but ground as I landed atop its leg. From there, I leapt toward the undead's skull.
Bewildered, it turned to me - giving my greaves the perfect angle to strike its jaw.
Teeth and bone smashed against my airborne kick. Countless shards went flying from the blow. The undead's face was left reeling, landing on its side near-perfectly into a section of crumbled wall.
I began to drop, pride across my face. Then came a sparkle in the corner of my eye.
"Sacred Smite!"
Warden Slania blazed toward the fallen undead's exposed underside. A golden aura enveloped her halberd, the upwards-flowing energy resembling a saintly flame. She spun on a heel; collided with the ribcage. The impact was devastating.
In a brilliant flash, all became golden. Us, the undead, the landscape - all shining silhouettes. This time, it was in no hurry to depart. But when it did?
Bones weren't merely snapped apart like twigs - the ribcage was completely obliterated, what remained of it emitting clouds of crackling smoke. The force drove the undead back, sliding against the dirt despite its size. It finally collapsed. Unresponsive.
I landed, noting its exposed core. "That ribcage saved it. We must end this while it still suffers from light magic."
The Warden stood tall, pulling out her pipe. "Want the honors?"
"Thank you," I nodded.
I moved to the fallen undead, considering my execution of its execution.
Would Echo Fist prove effective? No, no - it has its uses, but I need direct power. Normal strikes would be better here. It won't be clean or swift, but it will be fatal.
The core lay before me, nestled in the undead's wrecked ribcage. Even the cloudy darkness inside seemed to swirl weakly.
My gauntlets raised. When another idea begged my notice.
Truly, it only lasted a second. But in my mind was a fierce push-and-pull of hard choice. The thought wouldn't leave me. So I embraced it.
Remember what was taught. This is the time. This is the time!
My hands dropped. Instead, all thought poured into my mind.
Step one: Disperse stray thought. The mind must be clear and stable.
Step two: Purge emotion. They distract from the order of light magic.
Step three: Know and act. Logic and Order. Use your power.
"Amara?" my superior asked from afar.
I would answer her in a moment. Once the undead was dust in the wind.
The requirements were met. My focus was like steel. Curling my gauntlets into circles, I overlaid them like two halves of a metal tube. If all went well, a piercing beam of light magic would emit from them.
No, not if. When!
"Golden Ray!" I incanted.
A glow appeared within my hands.
Then vanished with equal speed. I produced no magic. Nothing at all.
"G-golden Ray!" I repeated.
Again, nothing.
"Amara," called Warden Slania, "drop the magic! Just slay it before it heals!"
Her words were an order. At least in my interpretation. Orders from a superior, to Templars, were ironclad.
And yet my body didn't move to fulfill them.
The incantation flew through my lips again and again, my pronunciation and needed detachment becoming more muddled with each attempt.
But I could not stop.
If one cast works, only one, then that proves I can take the next step. I can overcome any undead. Any regeneration. I can finally wield this holy power.
So what am I doing wrong!?
"Amara! Move!"
-Was what I imagined she said. Whipping wind suffocated her voice, and all noise for that matter. A flash of pain struck my face. Everything seemed to go flying in that instant.
I took a breath, laying on the grass where I landed. My face stung harshly. I'd sustained worse damage before. Much worse.
But this time, it was more than my body that ached.
Instincts forced me off the vulnerable ground. My back pressed against stone - the wall opposite my risen enemy. I'd been sent far. There was no time to dwell on my failure. In moments the undead began another charge toward my direction, racing through the courtyard with an uncanny six-legged gallop.
The familiar taste of iron touched my tongue in those scant seconds.
Blood. Wounded.
Something ferocious welled up inside me. But it was not hate.
Not for the undead.
I prepared for the charge, gauntlets tight.
Only for the giant amalgamation to stop dead in its tracks.
"Amara!" grunted Warden Slania from behind the undead, arms wrapped around its tail. "Finish it! Now!"
Surprise flickered in my mind. I pushed it aside. The core was still uncovered. I still had a job to do.
Storming forward, I entered the amalgamation's range.
Losing a tail didn't discourage the undead. It lifted itself on hind legs, then rained down stomps with monstrous, misshapen feet. I could have weaved through them. Or circled around them.
I chose not to.
Instead I quickened, each step forced faster than the last. I darted past the stomps before they ever touched the ground and hurled a heavy steel-sheathed fist at the wide-open core.
The entire creature shivered at the strike. Legs dropped feebly behind me. But I couldn't let up. The light magic's effects were fading. Every second, it repaired itself. Without more of its weakness, there was only one course of action:
Deliver damage faster than it can regenerate!
I threw another strike, and another, and another. My fists became a blurred flurry of steel, each collision scoring another small fissure on the orb. It resembled glass, but was more durable than obsidian.
An elbow, a knee, a palm strike - I continued, yet during the assault I caught a reflection within the purple sheen.
The face of a young Knight, incapable of taking the next step to follow her dream.
Frustration cracked further as the orb did.
My attacks only grew sharper. Ever sharper. Ever fiercer.