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Vengence - a Story of My Values

Essay by   •  March 12, 2012  •  Essay  •  8,090 Words (33 Pages)  •  1,398 Views

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Evil Rises

Sweat fell from Lance's brow. The groans and clacks of the undead surrounded him, as if beckoning him to give in. He turned in a circle, only seeing the mass of undead bodies around him, ranging from green zombies to pearly white skeletons. He breathed in and then out, glad for the small break the army was giving him. He surveyed his surroundings, the gloomy sky, the dark trees, the black grass crunching under his boots. Rotten flesh and bones lay in front of his feet, lifeless once more.

A nearby skeleton advanced, brandishing a white sword made from the bones of humans he slaughtered. Lance struck, the blade in his left hand parrying the white blade and his right finishing the skeleton, cleaving him from pelvis to shoulder. The bones fell on the ground, clattering as they hit against each other.

"That was for killing my parents Eox!" Lance shouted at the top of his lungs.

Lance flinched as a second sword was thrust out towards him, aiming straight for his skull. He parried, his blades crossing over each other, trapping the bone sword between his iridescent white blades and redirecting the thrust above his head, bending slightly backwards as he did. The tip grazed the top of his scalp; the smell of the skeleton's wrist repulsing him as the bony arm passed above his face. Pulling his right sword away from his body and with it, the white sword, he stabbed with his left causing the skeleton to tumble to the ground.

"You'll have to do better than that if you want to kill me too!" Lance cried, his challenge falling only on the ears of the undead, who cackled and moaned in response.

Just then, a zombie lunged out towards him and grabbed his left arm. The cold, rough fingers tore his sword from his hand before he had the chance to retaliate. The zombie quickly retreated back into the ring of undead soldiers, waving his new-found sword wildly.

Crap, I liked that sword, Lance thought to himself. He'd have to pick up a new one in the nearest city as soon as he fought his way out of this mess. And it probably won't be as good as my old one.

A horn blew. The undead looked around and began to shift away from Lance. Loud yelling and hooting fell upon Lance's ears. Help. Great. Lance thought with disgust. He didn't need help, this was his quest not anyone else's. He spotted a contingency of armed riders making their way towards him to his left and began to cut a path in their direction. White bones and green bodies fell upon the soft earth as Lance forged his path towards the riders. His single sword seemed to have a mind of its own, the steel blade humming and singing as it sliced and hewed through his enemies.

The two parties met up, the riders forming a circle around Lance.

"The army is retreating sir, look!" a knight shouted to another rider.

Sure enough, the undead was scrambling away, pushing each other to the ground to get as far away from the knights as possible. A knight in shining steel armor and riding a white stallion rode up to Lance, raising his helmet as he galloped forward.

"What were you thinking son?! Taking on an entire battalion of Eox's undead like that in Shadowmoot Forest?" yelled the knight riding the stallion, "Even seasoned knights know to steer clear of this forest, evil magic can be felt here."

"They ambushed me sir. I was able to fight them off but they circled me, making my escape that much harder." Lance replied evenly.

The knight on the white stallion sighed and signaled a rider to his left, "Alert Kingston of this news. We will bring the boy back to our camp."

"I am Oswald, son of Therin, what is your name boy?" the knight asked in a louder voice after the messenger rode off with his news.

"Lance, son of none," Lance replied in a quieter voice.

"You're lucky we found you when we did Lance, before you were overrun. It's surprising; most undead battalions will show no mercy to their foes, subduing them with the sheer size of their forces. But they seemed to be cautious of fighting you, holding back as if an order forbade them to kill you outright," the knight stated with a hint of curiosity.

"Surprising indeed," Lance replied, "but there were no commanders on the field. Commanders of the undead are surrounded by a squad of flag bearers and I did not see Eox's standard waving in the air."

Small furrows appeared on Oswald's brow as he pondered this information for a few moments.

"Enough of this, let us take you to safety where you can have a hot meal and talk with our leader, Kingston," he finished, waving his hand in the air as to bat away his thoughts. Turning to his right toward a knight riding a brown bay he said, "Evan, find this boy a horse."

Lance was escorted to the outskirts of the contingency by a knight on horse back. Along the way, a flower caught Lance's eyes. A black lotus, a rarity even in Shadowmoot, grew out from the ground just two steps in front of him. He marveled at its beauty, black as night and deadly if eaten, its petals glistened under the gloomy sky. It was customary for knights to give the lotuses to beautiful women, showing their respect and interest in pursuing a relationship. As black lotuses were a rare flower, women seen sporting the lotus in their hair were held in high regard among their peers as it showed they had a brave and devoted lover. Lance picked the flower, stowing it in his pack and hurried to catch up to Evan.

"You can ride Bitterblossom here," Evan said, "His rider was slain in a previous battle with the undead. He's a strong sturdy horse you can ride for the time being."

Lance mounted the horse and the contingency moved out of the dark forests, galloping towards their camp.

A Breather

They arrived at the camp at dusk, the moon just beginning its ascent in the sky. The riders dismounted and Lance was lead to a large tent by Oswald. Two guards were posted on either side of the door and nodded as Lance walked in. The tent smelled of good food and was a comfortable temperature.

"Come my friend! Eat with me and we will talk. Any enemy of the Dark Wizard is a friend of mine," a voice called at the other end of the tent.

He hates Eox too though I still don't know if I can trust him Lance thought

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