The Beginning

Nerislynn Lumanani stood up, beaten and battered, but victorious. As far as the eye could see there were bodies, some of them his companions. Most of these bodies were, however, the dead and re-dead enemies in his most recent battle All but his armor was destroyed, leaving him with no sword, or shield. He looked ahead, to see just off the horizon of bodies, a figure in the dark cloak of a Necromancer.

Great, another one. He acted quickly, taking a crossbow bolt off of a near by fallen warrior, he used his keen aim and powerful arm strength to propel the bolt like a hand dart into the supposed Necromancer’s chest. The necromancer clutched her chest and stood there, calmly. He ran over, seeing that the necromancer just standing there, he swiped a blade from another fallen warrior along the way, and slashed the dark-arts crafter just enough to cause a nasty wound to the Necromancer’s arm.

"Please... please stop. I can't fight back..." cried a young voice. The voice confused Nerislynn causing him to stop and stare at his apparently dark opponent. Then the wind blew away the cloak’s hood to reveal a young girl, younger than Nerislynn, at least. She had light dust-brown hair and beautiful green eyes, eyes now filled with tears of pain.

"What the hells is this?" he asked, but before an answer can be provided the girl collapsed from the physical battering her body received. He looked around, and found a small area along the edge of the nearby forest. He carried her over to inspect her wounds.

He removed her robe to find a large gash on her chest, a few days old, that was being covered by the cloak. He tried to mend her wounds. This was probably an innocent girl who had been maimed by the enemy, and in the cold of night, had taken the true evil's cloak and used it for warmth. It was the perfect explanation. He built a fire and continued to carefully tend her wounds, using the last of his healing abilities to take care of the most threatening one, a crossbow bolt in her left half of her chest. The wound he caused almost killed an innocent.

Sometime later, as night started to fall, she awoke. “What happened to you, who are you?” "I was just there... with my mentor. He was teaching me. Then they came. I ran, but one of them got me before I got away....They fought. No one won. All of them were lost. I found him. I took his… his cloak." She struggled, eyes teary with pain, not physical pain this time. These tears were from the pain of her loss. Her vision fades for a moment, but she struggles to continue. "Ever since I was little, I used to go to the cemetery ... I could almost hear them. The dead... they were all so sad… lost... hopeless… They want another chance."

The paladin stared at her for a moment. Where is this going?

"I made it my goal to help them. You hate us because we follow the dark path. You hate us because you believe we are evil. But you hate them too... The Dead... you try to forget them so quickly. But they built our world... I respect them. Some of us... we... we may lose our humanity, or our hearts perhaps... but I don't think I'm the only one... that just wants to help." Her words were soft, and some were broken, but her message seemed all too clear. He watched here fade back to sleep.

"Please stay awake. I'm all alone here. Please." he begged her. The girl drifted back into sleep, a tear rolling down her already salted cheek. The paladin stared for a moment at the fire, and tried to drift into an uneasy sleep, he began to hear the voices. Is this what she’s talking about. I hear their pain in my heart, their begging for one more life, to finish one task or another. They can’t truly rest yet, and want to make it so they can.

He dreamed about the battle, in the dream he feels the connection of steel from a warrior’s sword. He can feel himself starting to die, and sees the girl, she’s getting away from the fight. He realizes he’s taking the place of her mentor. In the dream he seems connected to the late Necromancer. He senses that the man had a good heart, and did not know why the neighboring people were attacking him, and his small school. He had never raised an army before the battle; he had only given the dead that second chance they begged for. The last chance to explain feelings to a loved one, or prove the reason for their deaths, this is what he granted these tortured souls, so that they could finally rest in true peace. Despite his peaceful work, his neighbors feared him, and what they feared, they destroyed.

He woke up the next morning, spotting a butterfly pass, and land on a bush nearby. Being a warrior, he would never even think about such a mild creature, but it caught his eye in the cloudy morning and it reminded him of the little girl. He nudged her softly, then again when she didn’t respond. When she didn't respond to a slightly more than gentle shake a fear rolled through his body. Please wake up little one, please be alive. He placed a hand upon her chest; he can’t feel a heart beat. Another wave of feeling envelops him, the Paladins eyes are filled with a sorrow and pain is so strong it brings no tear. No, she has to have made it.

"I… I can't take this..." he whispers, “I can’t take loosing you now.” He moves a hand to her face to with the intent to hold it when he feels a small gust on her hand. He jumps back, and then places his hand just above her nose and mouth. She’s breathing.

Now his eyes are so filled with tears he can’t see. She’s alive, but she’s so weak, all I need is for her to wake up, so I know she’ll be okay. He nudges her again, “Wake up little one; please, there’s something you should see. She moans, and rolls towards him as her eyes force themselves open. “Over there, on the bush do you see it?”

“See… what?” she asked.

“The butterfly on the bush,” he turned to point it out only to see that the butterfly was gone. “Well, I guess it flew away, go back to sleep. I’ll make a small shelter and find something to eat. I won’t go far.” With that, the girl slipped back to sleep, and he settles on the task of protecting them from the weather. How can someone as gentle, innocent, and lovely be evil? Is she playing a trick on me? No, she’s not. Then, why was this battle really fought. The old man never attacked the city, and despite the reports, I never actually saw an attack from the undead army until yesterday. If you can call defending you land an attack… What if our teachings are wrong, what if our commanders are not as true as we believe…

Nerislynn Lumanani looked at his armor. The armor of a paladin carried the crest of his family, the crest of his kingdom, and the symbol of the holy warrior. Looking at the battle field in front of him, he didn’t feel very holy.

***

“That sure was a rough battle they fought today. The returning scouts found Silverkin’s body, but we lost pretty much our entire army. Only one or two warriors and one of the older Paladins returned” the bartender of The Evening’s Rest pub was talking to one of his clientele. The pub was comfortable, with several tables, a long bar along the back wall. It was one of the few establishments in town that served food, and had a tendency to quieter, more respectable place than a typical tavern, even in the late evening. Still, tonight it was quieter than the norm, because tonight customers were morning the loss of friends and family, not chatting about the normal events of the day. Even the wait staff for the larger-than-one-man-could-handle building was smaller than usual. Many of the maidens were at home, and the few that came to work were quiet. Some had already had to sit and consider the loss of a brother or companion. Tonight was a very quiet night.

“I can’t believe that one Necromancer, and a few of his servants, could come so close to stopping the king’s army. We’re down to two of the oldest Paladins, some local militia, and the unit of guards sent from Starfrit. Five hundred warriors and Paladins went to that fight, less than ten returned, and people said that this Seatumal Silverkin was harmless.”

“Well, just because he’s capable of bringing down an army doesn’t mean he would if left alone. Nerislynn said he never actually saw any evidence that he was the cause of the deaths or disappearances. Now he was an interesting character. He’d come in every Newday evening, get so drunk that he couldn’t walk straight, and ramble about becoming the ‘Paladin of Paladins’. He could liven up the place that’s for sure. That with the way he went out of his way to help anyone who asked for it, and many who didn’t but needed the help anyway. No one’s reported his body, but he’s not been seen either. I hope he made it. If he didn’t, well, he will be missed.”

“He will, probably by Katrina the most, she seemed to take a liking to him. She’s broken down at his table.” a returning customer, almost as old as the former Paladin bartender, pointed out an attractive waitress. She was sitting at a table near the door, sobbing, over a half eaten bowl of soup and meatrolls.

“Well, I think I’ll put that old shield he left here on the wall, as a tribute, and one drink for everyone on the house…” the bartender poured his friend another ale, and sent the younger waitress in the corner to ask people for orders, “To Nerislynn Lumanani, Dayville’s Paladin of Paladins.” The bartender announced loud enough to catch the attention of the entire eating area, and accepted the reply “To Nerislynn!” from the men, women and few children finishing their meals and drinks.

Except for one, in the corner, a man in dark robes sat, observing the bar. Little could be seen of the man, his hood was up, and he had only a pint of ale in front of him. He quietly raised his glass to the toast, finished his drink, left sufficient coins on the table for his ale and extra for the waitress tending him, and got up. He walked out of the pub, noticed by no one. So Seatumal is gone, I hope Pysura got away. The Paladin they speak of seems to be a good man. He was following orders to fight, and probably blindly trained that we are all evil. Tyrann Longlight will pay for this day somehow, I just don’t know how. I’ve lost a friend, and these people uselessly lost a hero, all because one foolish king wants to wipe us off the planet. May he find that task impossible.

Not much later the pub closed for the night. Later still the glow sun was just starting to rise over the eastern hills of Dayville. One Necromancer was home, one was struggling to survive. One former Paladin was tending to his bar, and one was simply considering that maybe not everything in his king’s statements said was fact. And like the previous, the next day and night would bring many changes to their world.