Dawn of the Forgotten

Chapter 1: Rise of the Fallen

He woke to screaming.

It was pitch black. The stench of smoke consumed him and was bombarded with erratic coughing.

"Carrion! Wake up!" Came a middle-aged woman's voice, a door swung open with the arrival of candlelight. "Grab your things, we're leaving!"

Carrion stood still, wiping his eyes, soon hearing the roar of flames beyond the room.

She grunted, pulling him past the room, and bolted through the door, greeted by the decor of flames on the walls and furniture.

"Where's the others?" Carrion's voice strangled, already parched.

"Dead." The woman muttered, pushing him out the door.

He trembled to process what that meant, and his heart sank.

"Keep moving." She coughed, a strangle to her voice.

They rushed past the building, turning back to see a tavern burning to the ground. With locked eyes, she was frozen --- with a sunken heart.

The screams gathered closer, and Carrion pulled her forward.

Flickers marked the distance, dots of flames moving at great speeds, carried by the cries of people set a blaze. The air was strong with burning flesh, but he forsook what it meant. He had to believe they were alive.

The woman rushed on, but the flickers grew closer. The stallions grew louder until all that surrounded them was a blinding light and a heat that made her tremble.

"I thought the rebels left years ago." Carrion struggled to breathe.

"It isn't them," the woman returned, pulling him again, "and what did I say? Quit stalling!"

"What do you mean it isn't them?" As they met the borders of the town, his question was answered.

There, before them, were uniforms they've not seen before, faces that lacked color, and an aura that lacked soul. They carried cloaks of grey, chain-mail armor, and an emblem of thrice black lines, and they were moving closer.

The two hid behind a building, hearts racing at their attempts to quiet their breath, breath that was eager to shout as the smoke consumed them.

The woman peaked past the building and was shot in the head, an arrow delving past the locks of her golden hair.

He jolted back, seeing her mangled face strike the wall, lifeless eyes facing her killer, seeping a black liquid.

The sight caused him to gag, but what stood beyond was nearly enough to give away his position.

They stood in a shroud of black, holding no aura about them, yet upon their head stood the face of an angel. Ethereal in their gaze, it consumed the field with an overwhelming weight; a soothing whisper, a cheerful lie, promising peace in a plain of death. It called to him, and somehow..he felt he knew it's name, and if not for the cold touch of his fallen friend, he was prepared to meet it.

With as much force as he could muster, he pulled himself away, dragging the side of a building until he faced the edge of town, only to find it blocked off by a palisade. His heart was strangling him, with a clearing by the wall as his only comfort, catching his breath.

There was a snap in the distance, like footsteps over charred debris. His heart raced, and he ducked for cover, but there was no cover to be found.

"Carrion?" Came a girl's voice, soft, pure, but familiar.

His eyes grew teary, and he was shaking.

"Valora!" He rushed to embrace her, hand cupping her soft brunette hair.