Spirit Animals: The Third Devourer War

The Grim Reaper

Barlow had found himself again. His memories had slowly flooded back to him. He had died, and now he was alive. Jooles, his spirit animal, stood next to him, staring out at the foggy ocean. He had remembered how she had been thrown off a cliff by Arax, it was traumatising. He also remembered a man named Zerif, how he killed him in front of Abeke, summoner of Uraza The Leopard. That was all when he had been a Greencloak.

Now, Barlow was something else. He had awoken on a dark, cursed island that seemed to be Nightshade Island. He remembered that he had been lying on his back, both of his hands had been holding a large scythe on his chest. He wore a long black cloak with a hood, and a red glow came from his eyes. He noticed a large scar on his body from Zerif's sword. It was a reminder of how he died.

Jooles huffed and pawed at the black sand. Barlow had been travelling on the island for a few days, ever since he had been resurrected. He was searching for something, but he couldn't tell what. He didn't even know how he was alive. Barlow was certain that this wasn't Hell. But how could he be alive? And what was he doing with such a large weapon? It didn't make any sense.

"Come on, Jooles," said Barlow as he began to walk again. "We need to find out why we are here."

Jooles growled lowly, obviously hating the island. Barlow knew why, of course. It was the island that King Feliandor cursed during the First Devourer War. He considered putting Jooles into passive state, but at the same time he had missed her. The longer that they were on this island, the weaker he felt his bond become. He sighed sadly to himself and rolled up his sleeve.

"I think you'll like it more if you were in passive," he advised the bear.

Jooles looked up at him and blinked. With a flash of light, she became a tattoo on his arm, the mark burning slightly. He walked again for around ten minutes on his own. Faint sounds of the ocean's waves could be heard in the distance. His mind wandered to the times of when he was a Greencloak. He remembered a man with a raccoon spirit animal that he was somehow very close to, but Barlow couldn't recall his name. It had been such a long time ago, it felt. It made him sad, how he couldn't remember simple details from the past.

A large castle could be seen from up ahead. Barlow stopped, surprised that there would be a castle on a cursed island. Had it always been there? He clutched the handle of his scythe, feeling its power flow through him. It was strange, how he felt a sudden connection to the scythe ever since he had been resurrected. Sometimes he could hear the scythe speaking to him, but he couldn't understand it.

Barlow was close enough to the castle now to see that it was fully black with red lights shining through the small windows up top. The gates were open, guarded by two people whose faces he couldn't identify. He hid behind a large boulder, watching the castle. The guards wore similar clothing to him, with their black cloaks like his. They were equipped with swords, and a bow on each of their backs.

The sound of huffing from an animal were heard behind him. Barlow turned around slowly, expecting more guards as if he was found. But they weren't guards, except it was a large midnight-black horse staring at him. Although, it didn't look like a normal black horse because it's eyes were a blood-red colour and glowed in the dark.

"Hello?" Barlow whispered.

The horse still looked at him, barely even blinking. It stomped a hoof on the ground with its ears pinned back. It looked like it belonged to the castle, but why on Erdas was there an unknown army on Nightshade Island? The horse appeared to be angry by his presence, but it didn't alert the guards that he was here.

Barlow slowly stepped away, walking in the direction that he had come from. It was too risky to investigate. He could hear the horse following him too, which was creepy. The entire island was creepy. Creepy sand, creepy trees, creepy people and creepy horses. He began to run down the beach, trying to get away from the animal, but it was still following him.