Davon was wrenched from his sleep by a splash of water on his face. Confused and furious, he pushed himself up onto his feet, ready to give whoever had woken him a piece of his mind.

  Yet, when his eyes focused, Davon found himself in a strange and unfamiliar space. He was standing beneath a massive petrified tree on a tiny island of blue sand. Water surrounded him on all sides and continued as far as the eye could see, reflecting the starry sky above and gently caressing the ground he stood on. Looking up, Davon could see stars and constellations both familiar and unfamiliar, completely unobscured.

  The sound of waves against the shore and the smell of brine hit Davon like thunder out of the blue, flooding his mind with pleasant memories.

  He was so awestruck that he barely noticed the strings of silk wrapped around his arms.

  Once he did see them, he realized they were connected to the bone tree beside him. He inspected the strings closely. Caressing the soft silk wrapped around his arms, he noticed the frayed remnants of broken strings. Their rough edges matched other ragged strands hanging from the tree, as if Davon had torn them when he stood up. The loose ends floated gently in the sea breeze.

  Before Davon could even begin to question what the strands meant or where he was, he heard a sound in the distance. It was similar to a war horn, but distorted. The sound seemed to bend and warp further as it continued. Turning to the source, Davon’s stomach dropped.

  A massive wave was rushing towards him from the distant horizon. It moved closer and closer with terrifying speed, seemingly spurred on by the ever louder, distorted war horn. Shades of crimson swirled through water as it hurtled towards the island.

  Fear surged up within Davon and rooted him to the spot. There was nothing he could do but watch. He’d been a sailor for long enough to know that trying to escape a wave that big was useless, even on a ship.

  As the noise of water finally drowned out the blaring war horn, Davon closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

  He was prepared to meet what the sea had in store for him.

  —

  Davon shot up from his bed roll, breathing heavily. It took him a moment to reorient himself. Slowly, he realized he was still in the tent with his companions, where he’d fallen asleep.

  Really Davon, nightmares? You’re slipping, he scolded himself.

  He sat back down and buried his head in his hands. Ever so slowly, the dull ache in his arms returned, further confirming that he was back in reality.

  Looking around, Davon saw both of his companions were still fast asleep. Lyla was curled up on her bedroll. Kai had passed out in his chair, axe resting against his shoulder. In the quiet of night, everything seemed so serene.

  Until the serenity was broken by the sound of a war horn echoing through the Vanguard camp.

  Davon grabbed his bow and jumped to his feet as Kai and Lyla startled awake. The war horn sounded thrice, three steady blows.

  Danger, Davon thought grimly.

  “What’s happening?” Kai grumbled, axe in hand but still half-asleep.

  “Lookouts sounded danger,” Davon replied. “Maybe the Crimson Reavers launched a counterattack?”

  “No time to waste then.” Lyla was already at the tent flap. “Let’s go!”

  The trio rushed out of their tent and headed towards the camp entrance. The clouds above had completely covered the moon, leaving torches as the only sources of light. Lyla enchanted her spear with fire and used it as a torch as they joined the throng of Revenants rushing through the camp.

  When they arrived at the gate, Davon peered out into the surrounding snowfield. He strained his eyes but couldn’t make out anything in the dim torchlight.

  An unfamiliar Green Tracker stepped up beside him. Digging through his pack, the Revenant pulled out a small stone orb, covered in runes. He twisted it until Davon heard a click, then pulled his arm back and threw it full-force out of the camp.

  Davon watched as the object flew into the sky. It suddenly came to a stop in mid-air and lit up with bright white light, illuminating what remained of the battlefield around the Vanguard encampment.

  A single figure was standing amidst the Crimson Reaver bodies.

  The figure was clad in a long robe, open in the front to reveal sleek black armor. A gleaming helmet sat on their head. They held a grey leatherbound book open in one hand, tracing a finger against the page with the other.

  Davon raised his bow, but his arms felt limp and weak. They trembled, shaking his aim. He cursed himself internally for pushing so hard the previous day.

  Another few Revenant archers stepped up beside Davon and raised their weapons. Davon forced his arms to hold steady long enough take aim. Together, the group fired a barrage at the lone figure.

  Davon watched the volley soar through the air. When the projectiles were mere feet from the intended target, each one was slapped away by what looked like shadowy limbs. The missiles fell to the ground, useless.

  Annoyed, Davon tried to invoke his Scattershot rune, pulling on his Reliquary. The strand of connection lit up with pain. Dizziness struck Davon like a rogue wave, sending him off-balance for a moment.

  When he refocused, Davon heard a wheezy chuckle coming from the robed figure’s direction. Davon raised his eyes just in time to see the figure close the grey leatherbound book. Crimson light enveloped the surrounding bodies, and Davon felt a growing pit in his stomach as the sound of cracking bones filled the air.

  The Crimson Reaver corpses, partially buried in the snow, were being contorted by some vile force. The familiar stench of rot and sulfur assaulted Davon’s nostrils.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Davon froze. He hadn’t smelled that vile aroma since the siege of Walden’s Hold. None of the Crimson Reavers he had faced since then seemed to possess that particular feature.

  But there was no time to ponder this revelation. Bodies all over the battlefield were standing up, supported by malformed limbs. Davon immediately recognized their distorted shapes. He thought back to his team’s first encounter with Crimson Reavers, before the invaders even had a name.

  The gathered Revenants watched in stunned silence as more and more bodies got up from the ground, given new life.

  “Great, they have Necromancers now.” Kai stepped in front of the camp entrance, axe raised. “No matter, we’ll just kill them again!”

  As if in response to Kai’s remark, the Necromancer gave another laugh. Shadows swirled around him, grasping at his robe like living things. He shouted something in a language Davon couldn’t understand. The shadows enveloped the figure, and when they dissipated, the Necromancer was gone from view.

  Then the undead soldiers began their assault, dozens upon dozens of twisted Crimson Reavers rushing towards the Vanguard camp.

  Running on pure instinct, Davon pulled back his bowstring. Anxiety flared as the ache in his arms rapidly intensified. And yet, true panic only set in when he realized that each successful shot didn’t even slow the enemy down. The undead soldiers simply continued their rush, dragging their malformed limbs across the ground, making no sound other than the crunch of snow beneath their feet.

  “Hold steady!” Grant’s voice echoed behind Davon, shaking him from his panic. The old Revenant pushed past Davon and planted his sword in the camp’s entrance. A golden barrier formed, originating from the sword and filling the entranceway.

  Another familiar voice reached Davon as Emma shouted, “I TOLD you we should clean those bodies!”

  “We hardly had the time,” Grant retorted as the undead crashed against his barrier with loud thuds.

  Moments later, the undead Crimson Reavers stopped their pointless effort to break down Grant’s barrier. They shambled over to the camp wall and began piling themselves up against it, climbing over each other to get higher and higher.

  It took seconds for the undead to start pouring over the camp walls, falling carelessly to the ground below. Davon and the other archers fired shots at the creatures as soon as they appeared, but the enemy didn’t seem to care. They just scrambled to their feet and threw themselves at the gathered Revenants.

  Beside Davon, Kai stepped out and took the lead, swinging his axe at a creature as it flew towards him. The young warrior’s blade caught the undead in the center of its chest. Carrying the movement, Kai slammed the creature into the ground with a resounding crack.

  Not even a second later, the creature was moving again, struggling against the weight of Kai’s axe.

  Realizing that it was useless to block the gate, Grant pulled his sword up and brought it down in a slash, bisecting one of the creatures as two others grasped for his armor. Davon noted that the bisected beast stopped moving as soon as its head was split.

  Now that’s an idea, he thought.

  Willing to test the new theory, Davon raised his bow again, but his attention was caught by the sight of an undead crawling onto Kai’s back.

  Time seemed to slow as Davon adjusted his aim, loosing a shot only once he was sure he wouldn’t hit Kai. Seconds ticked by painfully while the arrow flew. The enemy wrapped its arms around Kai’s neck, squeezing in an attempt to break it.

  Then the arrow struck the creature directly in the head. It fell limply to the ground… and didn’t move again.

  “THEIR HEADS!” Davon bellowed, his theory confirmed. “CRUSH THEIR HEADS!”

  Free from the monster on his back, Kai followed Davon’s instruction and stomped the head of the undead stuck under his axe. After a few stomps, the creature stopped struggling and went limp.

  But the undead kept coming. More and more of the creatures poured over the walls and swarmed around the Revenants gathered at the gate. Some, however, had other ideas. Six undead soldiers shambled right past the gate and headed further into the camp.

  “Davon!” Grant’s voice echoed over the sound of combat. “Take Kai and Lyla, and protect the Boneshaper! Without him, we’ll be crippled!”

  Lyla was already there. She had never left Davon’s side. Davon loosed a shot, putting down another undead trying to grab onto Kai. The young warrior dashed away from the melee, and together, the trio ran after the six undead.

  Davon cursed as they ran. The monsters were moving so fast, he could barely keep up with them. Even worse, the undead seemed to be heading straight for the Boneshaper’s tent by the most direct route.

  The trio arrived at their destination just in time to see the Boneshaper conjure a barrier around his tent. As the undead soldiers crashed into the barrier and fell backwards, Davon’s eyes landed on a robed figure with a grey leatherbound book, standing still in the middle of the chaos.

  The Necromancer had returned.

  Kai was the first to act. He rushed forward with his axe held high. A rune lit up on the axe as Kai swung, enveloping the weapon in bright orange light. Kai smashed the glowing axe into one of the undead. As soon as the blade pierced the thing’s flesh, the orange light flowed into the creature, quickly disintegrating the body.

  Instantly, the remaining five creatures swarmed all over Kai. The young warrior’s legs failed under the weight of the monsters, and he fell to the floor.

  Both Davon and Lyla raised their weapons, aiming to knock the beasts off of their companion. But before he could fire, Davon heard a finger snap from the direction of the Necromancer. A moment later, shadowy tendrils wrapped around Lyla and Davon, yanking them off balance and binding their arms tightly.

  Davon could only watch helplessly as the undead tore into Kai, striking him repeatedly with clawed hands. In mere moments, the ground around the Revenant and his attackers was covered in blood and bits of flesh.

  Vengeful rage filled Davon. He struggled wildly against the magic bindings, but in his weakened state, he couldn’t break them.

  A sudden gust of wind nearly knocked Davon off his feet. He turned in time to see Lyla break free from her bindings, carried by conjured wind. Several runes lit up on Lyla’s spear as she hovered in mid-air. Then she whipped her arm back and threw the weapon, launching it at the pile of undead who were still busy beating Kai’s body.

  The spear sparked with electricity as it struck one of the creatures in the chest. Lightning jumped from undead to undead, leaving them stunned. A moment after the electricity faded, flames erupted around the spear, utterly consuming the stunned Crimson Reavers.

  Lyla landed amidst the charred remains of their foes and companion. Davon could see a look of determined fury in the woman’s eyes as she grabbed her spear and aimed it towards the Necromancer, still carried by the momentum of her leap.

  The Necromancer raised a finger casually. A shadowy barrier instantly formed between him and the point of Lyla’s spear.

  In a display of skill Davon wasn’t used to seeing from the spellcaster, Lyla repeatedly thrust her spear towards the Necromancer. Using her left hand as an anchor, she used her right to push and pull the weapon with devastating speed. However, each blow was blocked by the shadow barrier. The Necromancer chuckled at her wasted effort.

  At that moment, Davon’s shackles dissipated. He detached his bow’s limbs without hesitation and ran towards his foe.

  Using his momentum, Davon brought both of his blades to his left, swinging them in an arc at the Necromancer’s back. Too focused on the girl in front of him, the Necromancer didn’t react, allowing Davon to land his slash.

  Even without the Sharpness rune, Davon’s blades cut through the thing’s robes and armor, drawing blood. The Necromancer’s shadowy barrier faltered as he stumbled briefly. Lyla continued her assault, this time landing blow after blow in her enemy’s chest.

  But Lyla’s rage left her careless.

  Spinning around to deliver another blow, Davon saw the Necromancer push through the assault and grab Lyla by the throat. Shadows enveloped the Crimson Reaver’s hand, and Lyla’s vitality seemed to drain in seconds.

  With a desperate shout, Davon stabbed both of his blades towards his foe’s spine. He felt bones crack under his blades. Following up with a kick to the thing’s back, he sent the monster sprawling to the ground.

  Lyla slipped from the Necromancer’s grasp, both of them falling in unison.

  Stillness claimed the battle field as Davon’s eyes landed on Lyla’s withered face. Sorrow and desperation filled his heart, and he fell to his knees.

  He had claimed victory for them, but it rang oh so hollow.