We Are: Waking The Fallen

12: We Are: Taking the Fallen

Thuis was originally meant to be like fifteen chapters when I first started writing it on my old Quizilla account but hey. It might still reach that! But it's more likely to have thirteen, maybe fourteen now. Also if you're lucky it might be finished tomorrow or the day after. Depends if I can be bothered to lug my laptop around the house.

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Screams tore across the battlefield, and flames licked the horizon, smoke rising high into the murky sky. The ground was splattered with Undead ichor-blood and littered with lost limbs and severed heads, their eyes rolled back into their skulls and their mouths open in soundless screams. Beasts circled the skies, diving into the front lines where the war still raged, slicing and slashing, not caring whose side they were on. Huge war horses, Undead and not, pranced through the raging battle, trampling any who stood in the way and throwing off their riders so they sprawled out on the floor, sometimes impaled by broken or disregarded weapons. Volleys of arrows rain down, striking friend and foe, each stone arrowhead laced with the chemical that can kill the Undead. The chemical that stops the ichor that keeps them alive from flowing. 

Xavian stood at the back of the fighting, a faint red aura surrounding him, stopping projectiles in their tracks, causing them to fall to the floor when they came near him. Beside him sat Kagé, dressed in full battle armour, as well as the beings she helped bring forwards from the World of the Shadows. Yuki stood, her healed legs finally usable, and she was probably the fastest warrior Xavian had on his side. Fenrir, the deaf boy, was crouched low to the floor from their perch on the outcrop of rock. He was watching the battle intently, his eyes sharper than any one Xavian knew. Ichiru, the man who was mute, or as some would say, dumb, had his back turned, and was staring soundlessly towards the plains away from the battle, littered with the dead they could salvage, ready for burning when the time came. Ichiru had strong hearing, and either way he faced he could hear the screams of death from miles away. The blind girl with black hair, grey skin and a blindfold wrapped around her eyes, had her arms folded. Xavian did no her name, and neither her nor her shadow had introduced herself. 

"It smells of death...." She whispered, sniffing. Her strength was her sense of smell, and that was why Xavian had surrounded himself with those he had met first. Those with disabilities. Those with individual strengths.

Yuki, Fenrir, Ichiru, and the nameless blind girl, as well as all of the shadows ever taken from the World of the Shadows. "Ichiru." Xavian stated, and the boy in question turned and nodded. "West side, black aerial mount. You're our best archer. Take arms." His voice was powerful, commanding. Ichiru nodded again, and jumped nimbly to where Xavian instructed, Gene, his respective 'shadow' chasing after. "Fenrir." He moved on, and Sedna, his 'shadow' got his attention. The boy stood, and Xavian began to sign. In his three years working with the boy, he had leaned how to communicate. "East side, grey war horse. Take a lance." Fenrir bowed and bounded in the same direction, Sedna following. Xavian placed a hand on the blind girl's shoulder. "Northern flank, take a Night Hound." As he spoke, a large, black wolf approached, with eyes as red as blood and claws as white as snow. "Leave your shadow." The girl nodded and sat on the huge hound, and it raced off into the north side of the battle. Xavian was left with one Undead, Yuki, and ten shadows.

Kagé stood and gazed at Xavian. "Was it wise to let them join the fray?" Her voice was soft, so only Xavian could hear. The Assassin nodded simply.

"Yuki, you and I must search for the Lady. The Shadows will join as well, for they have abilities useful to finding her." The blonde girl nodded erratically. Xavian smiled sadly, and whistled. Beasts, twelve of them, padded over. Xavian's own liquid-like creature was at the lead, and all ten of the shadows and the two Undead, climbed onto the mounts, and one by one, they began to move, Xavian flying overhead, with Kagé behind him, and the rest were bellow.

Meanwhile, a bright, vibrant umbrella in his hands, He walked through the battlefield, capturing the stares of the warriors. White souls floated behind the hooded man with spiral tattoos and black wings drawn onto his back. As he walked, black snake like creatures weaved behind him, wrapping around the warriors, pulling the souls from their armoured and torn Undead bodies. The man threw his umbrella aside, the kind smile still gracing his skinless face. The crow on his shoulder fluttered its coal black wings, and looked excited, as animals are capable of emotion as well, if not easier, as humans. 

Atop a black aerial mount was Ichiru, firing his arrows into the battle. The soul collector send his snakes to envelop the boy, and his body dropped to the floor, the soul joining the hundreds that already followed.

The blind girl was slashing with her bare hands, the Night Hound at her side mimicking her movements. The soul collector shook his head and gave her the same treatment, his soul count growing. 

The warriors were too afraid to attack him, he who could take the souls straight from their bodies.

He kept moving, kept taking the souls of the warriors that should have fallen to their death when they first died, not been brought back to life as the monsters that they are now. 

Fenrir, astride a mighty war horse, was spearing his foes, crushing them under hoof and impaling them with the blade of his weapon, was the final one to fall. Fenrir started at the cloaked man in utter terror as he ripped the souls from his foes. He pointed, and all of his snakes wrapped around Fenrir, squeezing the soul he had held onto for three years too many out of his once mortal body.

Th corpse hit the floor, and the soul was embraced into the soul collectors arms, as were the others. 

Gore crows descended, feathers erupting from their bodies as they flew endless circles around the man who had collected the souls. He stood tall as the birds lifted him off of the ground, above the now silent battlefield, littered wih the already eroding corpses of the Undead, the souls torn from them. The soul gatherer smiled, this time a bitter, violent grin. He had collected the souls of all Undead in the war, and he could return home, back to the Underworld where his family, his kind still lived.

He was to return and to lead.

And he had thousands of souls on his side, the souls that were forbidden peace, as Death could not order his kind to the surface. 

People could no longer fear their death, for they know that they will not be brought back.

They could trust the world once more.

Xavian, Yuki and the ten beings of the Shadow World still roamed, searching for the Dark Lady. It was only a matter of time before they reached their end at the hand of he who gathers souls. There will be no more time, there is no more time.

Perhaps I should explain who I am in more detail...?

No, that will have to wait. They will meet me soon enough, and you will know who I am.

Spiral, the secret, the mystery, the watcher of souls.