Shroud of Shadows

Failure

"I am the undying. I am the lord of death incarnate."

He towered over me, this monster of living metal and skinless flesh. In the cold winter's grasp, I could see that he neither drew nor released any breath. Each word is slow and calculated with the amount of force placed behind it. His followers are soulless puppets of armor, only their leader had some form of a body inside of him.

A red gemstone was embedded in his helmet, engravings circled his head like a crown, silver torcs dangled from his arms and an elegant azure robe hung from his entire body that seemingly changed design that covered his mighty plated armor. Here I fought a king of the dead, an alien anachronism from a long forgotten culture full of the darkest anima.

Flayed Ones we referred to them as, and this regal status only spurred me on.

"We are the slayer of lords!" I spat the words at him as I drew my sword from the sheath on my side. My trusted lance laid shattered near me, but my dao blade was still considerably powerful. It crackled with electrical energy as I exposed the enchanted edge to the raw air. The lance that was a gift from my queen years ago, much to my shame, laid humbled in the snow that whipped around us. I would ask for my forgiveness later, I had this creature's head to take.

I attacked, my country and queen's name on my lips like an unsheathed weapon. He and I, we fought alone in this ice encrusted battlefield. All around me, my fellow knights engaged similar monsters of steel and blood. For three days we have fought against each other in this winter wasteland. The mountain city of Volus burned, the black smoke of oiled wood and burning fat churned the air, a testament to the destructive handiwork of these unknown creatures.

We had come here with the fears of a nation's invasion. Volus was a very loyal city, having paid their taxes on time with no sign of resentment. When nothing came this season, His Lordship and Her Majesty ordered me to find out what happened with Knights of my choosing. When we had arrived, the slaughter was nothing any of us had seen before in this time of peace. These monsters crawled over heaps of the slain, many wore the skins of the slain. From there on, we fought each other with a furious assault. Now I stood as one leader against their own.

None interfered, I was insistent upon this. I had drawn only my sword, and would engage it thusly. For my victory to have any meaning, this was how it had to be. Even terms, his crackling obsidian edge glaive matched against my venerable Tempest Dao. Our respected weapons clashed again and again, the opposite energies that pulsed between the very air. We fought each other with a similar style of feints and attacks of opportunity.

Viridian fire encompassed him like a halo for an angel of death, and my ultramarine blue armor offered a stark contrast against it. I fought with a vengeful fury, eager to right the many wrongs I saw all around me. He fought with seemingly millennium of experience, for each strike I tried to land, he took advantage of the slightest crack in my aegis of defense. Soon, my dedication for the kill gave way to the need just to defend myself.

My blade had served me for the two and a half decades of life I breathed, but in the end, it was not found wanting.

It was I.

During our savage duel, his boot brought up a dune of snow, distracting me for the briefest of moments. In that moment, he struck. The glaive cleaved down, rupturing my armor with a cry that drowned out my own. Blood filled my mouth and I collapsed into the devouring snow. I, Geoffrey, Commander of the Crimean Royal Knights, Warden of Melior, Lord of Watch and High Vizier of Delbray, fell.

As the shroud of shadows wrapped around me like a burial veil, I heard the monster's voice one last time.

"I am the omega."