I struggle into my armour. It is a two-man job, yet I’m alone. Once I had a squire to assist, a bright young man, but I can barely recall his name.
I can see far from atop this cliff. The earth is blackened, the rivers choked with sludge, the plants anaemic and skeletal. The newborn sun above is swallowed by dark clouds.
Before me lies a path.
Today shall be the day I find another living soul in this accursed land. I feel it in my heart. It beats with hope.
I kick dirt over the dying flames of my bonfire. It has been … what? Thirteen days since I was stranded here? It feels more. My lost shipmates’ faces blur in my mind.
Today will be the day. And then I will be alone no longer.
***
I duck clumsily behind a crumbling wall. In the near distance, the horde of wights stumble onwards.
They are oblivious to me, thank the Moon Above. I’m a passable warrior, but there are dozens of the creatures, and I care not for my chances were they to notice me.
The wind carries their stench. When I first landed in this place, I could hardly breathe for gagging. I’m sad to say I have become accustomed to it. Yet I long for the aroma of home.
There is a perfume I crave in particular, sweet and floral, although I cannot say who wears it.
This wall I hide behind was once part of a grand home. I see remnants of the building around me. A stove here, a doorway there, perhaps that pile of burnt wood was once a kingly bed.
The building is long dead now, like everything else here, fallen to the blight that rots the land.
Eventually the wights pass, and I continue on my journey to find another living soul. I have walked for hours today already. I am sure it won’t be much further now.
***
I thrust my sword into the wight’s belly.
It hardly seems to notice. Its pitch-white eyes bore into mine, and its lipless mouth chatters something obscene. It’s trying to bring its own sword down into a killing blow, but my left hand holds its arm at bay.
Summoning all my strength, I push the creature back, pull my sword free, and decapitate it.
The rotten body falls to the ground with a clatter. After a moment, its flesh turns to black sludge.
I am in a hallway. Torn tapestries decorate the wall to my right. The sigils are unknown to me. To my left, arched windows overlook the castle grounds.
My footsteps echo as I continue.
The hallway leads to an open chamber. The ceiling is goodly high, held up by three pillars. There was a fourth pillar once, but it lies in ruins.
In the center is a throne. On the throne sits a straight-backed man. A living man. A crown on his head.
His intelligent eyes assess me.
Emotions rupture in my chest. “Thank the Moon Above,” I want to cry, but of course I cannot say a word. Instead I fall to my knees.
The man stands, and something is wrong. His legs are too long, and they lengthen further as I watch. His arms stretch too, as does his neck.
The distended thing unleashes a terrible screech and rushes at me, blades made of bone erupting from both hands.
I stumble to my feet again, ready my sword in both hands, pain thundering in my heart.
***
A few rooms later, I discover a golden fountain. The gentle trickle of water sounds unnatural in this place.
I approach with caution, my weapon held ready.
The water is perfectly clear; I cannot remember the last time I saw something so pure.
Though my reflection spoils it — my armour is splashed black with the gore of everything I’ve had to kill.
I’m ready to give up.
It must have been twelve hours since I started my journey today. I now accept I will find no other living thing in this land. I should lie here, next to this beautiful fountain, and sleep the forever sleep of death.
“My silent friend,” a voice says from behind me, “we meet again.”
I spin and raise my sword against this latest trickery.
A woman leans against the wall, clad in simple garb, with a white blindfold wrapped around her head. “So you do not remember me. As ever.”
I grip my sword harder, waiting for this deceit to play itself out.
She only smiles a sad smile. “With the Moon Above as my witness, I promise you, sir, I am no apparation.” She steps forward. “I’m as much alive as you.”
I hear my sword clatter to the ground as it falls from numb fingers. I think I might be weeping.
***
She walks confidently despite her blindfold as she leads me through a tunnel. Pus-coloured slime oozes from the walls.
“We have met before, you and I,” she says, her voice echoing. “Over and over. And every time I remember the reset, and you do not. So you meet me anew.”
A wight lurches forward, an axe in each hand. The woman watches me slay it without a word.
After it’s dead, she continues, “We are trapped here. The Far Sighted One demands it. Only once we have cleansed this land will we be free to return home.”
I do not understand her words, but it matters not. I have been starved of human voice for so long. I need this.
We exit the tunnel, and we’re now stood before a cyclopean gate.
“It’s as simple as this, sir.” She points at the gate. “We kill what’s in there, and we are free.”
I shrug, unsheath my sword, and take a step forward.
She stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “We have tried this countless times before. Do not think it will be easy.”
We pass through the gate without another word.
The creature is three times the height of a man. Its pale flesh drips with black sludge. Its face is a mess of tentacles.
I find I cannot move. Nor can I look away. A piercing wail fills my ears. I feel it psychically tearing at my mind — somehow I know it’s devouring my memories.
“With me!” the woman yells, and her voice breaks me from my trance.
She shouts an incantation, and white fire erupts from her hands, engulfing the creature. I rush forward to join her attack, swinging my sword. We fight like heroes.
It is for nothing.
I watch as it kills the woman. It pins her to the floor and tears her head from her body.
It picks me up in one giant hand. I struggle against it, but it’s much too strong. The last thing I see is its tentacles ripping my legs from my body.
Darkness.
***
I struggle into my armour.
It is a two-man job, yet I’m alone. Once I must have had a squire, for surely I can’t have always done this by myself, but I’ve no memory of such a man.
I can see far from atop this cliff. The earth is blackened, the rivers choked with sludge, the plants anaemic and skeletal. The newborn sun above is swallowed by dark clouds.
Before me lies a path.
Today shall be the day I find another living soul in this accursed land.
I feel it in my heart.
It beats with hope.