Skies were dark red, the sun creeping over the bloody horizon.
He acquired a horse, with the aid of William, none able to refuse the young father who'd blessed so many with sight in wander less lands.
Atop a great warhorse, stripped of its steel skirts to make for easier riding, he felt not as the warrior he'd been a day ago. For the first time in his miserable awakening, he was asking the gods to allow Nathan to fly once more.
Of course he knew the answer, for his god was the death god, a heartless deity.
'If I'm your Ninth Chosen, the other gods be with you.'
He'd been rambling in thought all morning, only stopping upon Paracles greeting the Embers before they rode out.
"An excellent suit of armor," the Phoenix said, arms folded. "Perhaps, you spare it for me in exchange of using my services in the darklands? You can keep it on until after I slay the First Sword."
Now he was pissed.
Upon dismounting his horse, he growled at the feather bastard. "You'd not land a hit, and if ya' did, it'd be not enough to tickle her!"
Al gave him an angry look, stop letting him get under your skin, she was certain to be thinking.
This blood sword, arrogant as the gods who blessed the world with souls and soulless, wasn't better than him. He had to prove it someday, and once Quarrath was slain, Nathan restored, and the Embers a merry crew again, this fucker in particular was getting a spike ironite clout!
Al snarled at him, and he climbed back atop his horse.
Paracles laughed for a bit, then waved, wishing them luck. "Dance with her! Embers and the brute himself, give her a good show!"
"Are you sure we shouldn't use him?" Dany asked, the fireborne and gold eagle camp fading into red-white air. "He told me last night you and him have good history working together."
He didn't answer.
He'll never answer anything related to Parcales, the world's greatest warrior always right about everything.
It was a silent ride for the rest of the day, and night.
Upon the next day, the fog was icy white, vampyres likely farther within the Burning Lands. William said according to Lady Pyr, there was to be yet another surge of troops in a year's time. Kingdoms from across the world, kingdoms which housed many Phoenix Blades, would fight for the right to overtake all five kingdoms.
"I don't think it'll ever stop in ou-in mine, and the lady's lifetime," the young father said, looking at Larosa, the party sitting round a white fire.
The young master said little, always on the verge of tears.
Were he anything other than a flail swinging wretch, he'd be in tears too, but the emptiness in his belly took care of that.
Atop his horse he looked forward, William's light guiding the way.
Dull weapons, corpse feeding carrions, bones, rusty armor, wolves, and occasional looters. Cold fog, far as one could see, what little one could. A single misstep meant being forever lost, war horns and blood cries being one's only comfort. It was the Burning Land, the tamer side, where the laws of men didn't exist.
At least for men with no claim, lest Isaac would still be roaming the fields with the likes of Gravous.
He didn't speak of the turd lord during the ride, not once.
Yet upon reaching a clearing in the fog, the river just below at last, Larosa questioned him alone as the others rested.
At the river, he sat with his in crisp cool waters, the current smooth.
"Did Carl tell you?" She asked, not even a 'his majesty' to the name.
"Aye, he means to kill him," he said, kicking away a nosey trout.
"He's a bastard. Alexander, second of his name, fathered Carl and Marys, but Isaac was kept a secret until his twenty second name day," Larosa muttered, fingers tightening into a fist. "By that time, the young lord had made name for himself as a merchant, making gold from thin air by many accounts of the kingdoms from overseas."
"Hmm," he grunted. "He bought his way into the house."
Larosa nodded, tears rolling down her face. "I'm sorry, I, I only speak of this because I need to know, will y-."
"Isaac Pyr'll be dead, long before I can get my hands on him," he said, using a calloused thumb to wipe away a tear. "If he's not, I'll make for his dungeon myself, you've my word lass."
"You have to do it," she said, rubbing her eyes. "They can't be trusted, Isaac, can't be trusted. He always finds a way out, every, single, time!"
He took one of her hands and guided it to the river.
She took a deep breath, then kicked off her boots and slipped her feet into the water. She let out a sigh of relief, growing a thin smile, and laid her head back to rest. He did as well, and couldn't help but think of the innkeeper when looking at her.
'This has been long overdue.'
It was dark when he woke up.
The Embers were in no rush, William and Larosa needing more time to recover before the next ride.
They fed on trout, crawfish and a wheel of cheese William looted off one of the white knights. He wondered what kind of man of the cloth would steal, and William bushed with waving hands.
"Eh? I didn't steal! It was, was, er-a friendly token of gratitude, yeah," William argued.
"You're a thief," he said, ripping off a chunk of cheese, despite not being fond of it. "The death god lays a curse upon ye' for all time."
William sighed, "I suppose. Curses, all the prayer I'll need to make up for this, I just didn't want anyone to go hungry."
Al gave him a playful jab, and Dany ruffled his hair.
They laughed, as did he, and even Larosa joined in.
Were they to stay along the river for a bit longer he wouldn't have minded. There was no shame in admitting the Embers had grown on him. Dany a sister, Al something much more, and William and Larosa what he believed must've been close to children as he'd ever get.
At dawn they pressed on, William handing back as he and the Embers took point.
No more fog, just a harrowing familiar darkness.
It was all returning to him at once, though something heavier was in the air. Marryvia wasn't a cursed land, it was almost a second home. From the graves to the palace, he'd seen it all, with little left to conquer.
Braches rocked like wiry black arms.
The stars were out in the sky, a half red moon above shrouded by a shadow like the sea of black in the woods.
He didn't even realize how close they were to the village, not until Dany informed him.
It was empty.
No narrow eyed bone thin folk. No worrisome bible thumping crones. The smith was gone too, his name he couldn't recall, and emptiness took his stomach upon stumbling upon the abandoned hut, anvil and hammer inside.
"When we rotated," a young man said, approaching from the shadows, "years ago after you were slain, they didn't last a night."
Arthur appeared, cloaked and hooded, though he could see the spear man's long split dark beard.
A massive spear, blades extended on either side the tip, it was dry with black blood. On his waist Arthur had a longsword, and a dagger behind his back, all with silver hilts.
"Hector was the only one left," he said as the shook hands. "Though…there wasn't much left of him…"
William rubbed his eyes, the young father making his way to the center of the village.
A fire was ignited, and they'd be fortunate enough to have a place to rest should the worst happen.
"Plenty of scouts," Arthur explained, all but a sleeping Larosa and William awake round the fire. "They pick of stragglers unfortunate enough to linger so far. The bridge was repaired, some time during the winter of the seconds year after you passed. Dany and I needed a break, and they made it of stone ya' see. People have been coming and going besides myself and Dany, but none get anywhere near Eldreth."
"Have you?" He asked, Dany and Arthur.
Both shook their heads.
"Not since the fight within the throne room," Dany said, sharpening her greatsword.
"Aye," Arthur sighed. "More and more dogs, hellhounds of course, all large as dragons. The trails leading to the fountain are the worst of it, but from what Edgar sees there's no one occupying it."
"Edgar?" He asked.
Arthur whistled.
A crow, smaller than most, but a fire eyed black dart landed on the spear man's shoulder. Attached to its right foot was a scroll, which Arthur took before retrieving a feather from Edgar and opening a pouch containing a tiny ink jar.
"Quite resourceful, don't you think?" Edgar said, speaking as though he were highborn.
Al's eyes widened, as did his, though it shouldn't have come as a surprise in a world full of chattering monsters.
Arthur rubbed Edgar's wings. "Been sending much as I can to the capital, specifically to the young master there. Has she had any luck with…"
He and Dany shook their heads, and Arthur rubbed his eyes.
"Ah, well, suppose one thing at a time. I think we can catch her off guard when she feeds," Arthur said, turning to Edgar. "What time did she last make a request?"
Edgar leaped along Arthur's shoulders, replying, "Last few evenings, right after seven or so. You'd best be quick about it, and you'd need to go in quietly. Well, at least one of you."
Arthur nodded, looking at Dany. "You're more of the brawler. Though, I'd be lying if I didn't say I'd like to be there myself."
"We should all go together," Dany suggested. "What difference will it make, she'll know we're there for a reason."
"Not necessarily," Al said, examining one of her arrows. "She's a typical egomaniac. She'll want nothing more than to crush us, maybe even do a bit more."
Edgar flapped his wings. "Ironite arrows? An excellent choice! You all should have little issue breaching the capital walls."
Arthur unstrapped a wrapped dagger from his waist belt.
"Something I found within the mines, after slaying a dozen dark beasts. Old hunters used it, something known as Rainsteel. Silver and the water gods' blessings."
It was an ugly looking dagger, long, almost needle like, with a jagged edge.
They decided to leave it with Al, should Quarrath get too close.
For a few hours they rested.
The silence of the village bothered him, as it was once a sad grim place before getting another chance at life.
As with all things of the black gods, nothing lasted.
Upon awakening, he readied his hammer, flail, sword, and marched with the Embers, William and Larosa staying behind.
Though the young father's light was bright, it faded, Marryvia's darkness welcoming them once more.