The island of the dead.
An island lost to time.
An island inhabited with demons and undead horrors.
So what happens when you get washed up on the island of the dead?
You fight to get off it. That's what you do.
And currently for Aphmau, Laurence, Ga...
I woke up to the whistling of a old tune. I tried to sit up but my body ached and my the left side of my chest stung like Tartarus. I tried to sit up but I immediately yelped out in pain, clutching my side. The whistling stopped and I saw Lòng walk out of the dark corner of the stone room. He smiled gently before walking towards me. He pulled a chair and sat next to my sickbed. He pulled out a small tin canteen from underneath his robes and handing it to me. "You thirsty boy?" His Chinese accent evident in his voice. I nodded, holding my side. I realised that I wasn't wearing my armour, I looked down to see my chest bandaged; with a big smudge of blood across my left side. "Oh yeah that. Don't worry boy. You don't have an infection or that bull sh**ry. You'll be fine." Lòng said, nodding the drink towards me. "Take it boy. You need it more then I do." I grabbed the canteen and sipped it, the pain now starting to get worst. A cold mint flavour greeted my tongue, something I recognised almost immediately. "Antimite Snowmead? How did you get this?" I asked. The eastern dragon laughed. "Blackdread was wondering how his favourite squire was doing. Handed me your favourite alcohol to give you." He replied, grinding something in his mortar. I could smell the dry herbs that hung on the rafters, as well as various boxes of seeds and other herbs. "Lift your arm boy." Lòng said, pouring some water into the paste. I obeyed, lifting my left arm upwards. He started to unwrap the bandages, I saw a nasty gash across my side. I winced as he rubbed some of the green paste in and around the gash. "Don't worry. It's just an antiseptic. It'll keep the infection out." He said spreading it around my wound. The door creaked open and I looked over to see Sir Dragon peering behind the door. He looked desperate, scared possibly. He looked at over at Lòng and then at me. "Oh thank Irene. You're okay. May I?" "Of course. You're his legal guardian." Lòng swiftly stood up and walked out, patting Sir Dragon's shoulder. Sir Dragon sat next to me, his face slightly relaxing though he looked extremely tired. He looked over at the gash in my side and his face immediately grimaced when he saw it. He immediately pulled out a weird looking syringe with unusual red liquid in it. "Stimpack. You know how to use these old relics." He said, handing me the syringe. I stuck the syringe into my leg, wincing before push down the bottom. The pain immediately diminished and I breathed a sigh of relief. "You okay Lio?" "Yeah....just never thought I'd be among the legion again." I replied, slightly nervous. "Heh...everyone in the legion is proud of you....especially Galbraith. He's proud you got into the dragon ward." "I feel like an outcast..." "It's about Garroth isn't it?" "No! No! That's not-" "Lio. Don't lie to me. I can tell you're upset. It's written all over your face." I looked down, slightly ashamed of revealing emotions on the job. Then Sir Dragon put his hand on my shoulder. "If you ever need anyoneknow that the legion's got your back. We don't abandon our kin." Sir Dragon then sheepishly opened a slightly broken first aid box and brought out a roll of bandage and started to warp it around my chest. He started to tap his foot nervously as he wrapped it around my chest. He started to talk again. "You're lucky you were wearing that armour you know?" "Why?" "If you weren't wearing that armour you'd be sleeping with the undead fishes right now." "I can swim, you know?" "Not in that weather, no." Sir Dragon replied, handing me a cloak. It was raggedy and had several holes punched in but it was something. He draped it over my shoulders before opening the door. "Come on, let's get you walking around." I gingerly got off the bed, my legs wobbling constantly as I tried to stand up straight. My legs gave in after about ten paces out the door, but Sir Dragon quickly caught me. "Woah! Woah! Slow down Lio! Don't want your face having a couple splinters in it, do we?" I shook my head.
I'm back with the legion. And lords have I missed it.
Dante's PoV I could have sworn that I was being chased by wolves. Then for a few desperate minutes being mauled by wolves, their claws and teeth tearing my skin and digging into my armour. Then I remember passing in and out of consciousness while somebody placed me on their shoulders and carried me out of the dead forest. What I don't remember is being looked after by a dead jury of nine who slaughtered countless innocents. Oh yeah, he's a immortal warrior who's killed gods. I must be going crazy.
I woke up to the talking of several men in a dimly lit cave. I tried to sit up, however my wounds stopped me from sitting up properly, more like slumping upwards. I cried out in pain as my mind was swept into pain from just moving. My eyes dimmed for a second as I saw the glaring fire. I winced away from the brightness, the light burning into my eyes. My ears were whirling from the indecisive noise . One of the men stood up and walked towards me, pulling something from the roof of the cave. He then knelt next to me. "Dante? You alright?" The voice was British, calm and kind but well mannered. I looked up and was barely able to see a pair of bright green eyes and dirty brown hair. He handed the sage looking plant into my hand. "Have this it'll numb the pain quite a bit." I didn't even question who it was as I snapped off part of the plant and shoved it into my mouth. It dwindled the pain once I swallowed the weird plant. My vision and hearing finally focused, my ears no longer being filled with white noise and my vision no longer was fuzzy and dimmed. I looked up, now finally able to see the man. He had forest green eyes and dirt brown hair, he had a long scar across his fore head. He looked slightly tanned, like he had been traveling a lot; he also had a small tattoo on the left side of his neck, an eagle? He looked at me, eyebrows finally relaxing. "Well? You alright?" He asked. "Yeah." My throat parched from the lack of water. He handed me a limp water skin. "Here. You sound like a f**king urchin." He insisted, shoving it into my outstretched hand. I pulled off the cap and took a large gulp of water from it. The man sat down next to the fire, which I realised were now just embers, he gestured me over which I did quite eagerly. I stepped over the sleeping bags and bed rolls of sleeping figures to get to the green eyed stranger. I sat down opposite him, put out my hands to get warm. "How do you know my name?" I asked, the question only briefly coming into mind. "Hm? Dante? We've known each other for quite a while. Don't you remember me?" "Nay. Sorry mate. Having two kids and running a village with PTSD really does your memory in." I replied smugly, he laughed in response. "I have fought countless war and murdered so many gods I've stopped counting. And I still remember you. The little speed demon the soldiers called ya." The man replied, staring outside. I followed his gaze and saw the tiny yellow lights of the camp below. "You got family?" The stranger asked. I was taken off guard by the question, however I answered. "Son called Dimitri. Daughter called Nekoette. Wife called Kawii Chan. You?" "Three kids. Two sons, one daughter. One doesn't even know I'm his father. The second though I abandoned him. And the third was four when I died." "Wife?" I asked. "Died during child birth." He now had a sad look on his face. He was also fiddling with his fourth finger, like there was meant to be a ring on it but there wasn't. "I'm sorry." "Keep it that way kid. Don't make me put a blade through your throat." A more gruff older voice said. I looked up to see a man with dark skin and purple eyes. He had three scars across the side of his head, he looked old and experienced. He was leaning against the wall of the cave and was sharpening a blade that was fastened to his arm.
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"Who are you?" I asked, confused. He sneered until the stranger stopped him. "Back off Jackson. He's just a kid." The stranger warned. "And what will you do Jeffory? You don't have the heart to do what I d-" Jackson was suddenly stopped with the stranger holding his golden glaive to his throat. "Not another word. Or your throat will be slit into four parts." Jackson laughed. "Alright. Alright. Just saying I saw your son with my daughter again today. If that little c**t does anything and I mean anything I will-" "Yeah. Yeah. I get it. Don't remind me for the quadruple time."
