“Hello? Is there anybody here?”
It had been two weeks since Paige had left Port Laus after an all too brief reunion with friends. It was a nice respite before shifting to her mission. But now, it was back to work. This was her first assignment since joining the Divine Generals’ Council. She was to rendezvous with former Etrurian mage general Sir Stavros Nemean and recover as much of his pre-Scouring library as she could carry. Fortunately, Paige was provided a mule to help with the load.
That mule, tied outside by reins, was the only other sign of life on the premises.
The scholar found herself in what should have been the New Aqueleia School of Magic. Yet, this place was entirely devoid of any people. There wasn’t even so much as a school desk in the four large rooms on the ground floor. The only evidence anyone had been there was in the single spire of the fortress. There was a study with a large wooden desk and two bookshelves filled to the brim with heavy tomes. There was quite a bit to go through, but Paige zeroed in on the open journal upon the desk. She hoped for some clue as to the mage general’s whereabouts. The last line written was telling.
‘Dark master, grant me vengeance upon the Lycian Empire. My soul is yours.’
“Oh, Sir Stavros…,” Paige closed her eyes, disappointed in the outcome. “What have you done?”
"War..."
Paige turned her head at the sound of the whisper. No one was there. She suspected this place was not what she was told.
“Should have brought the boys along, Paige,” she said to herself, wondering what would Shad and Satsume do in this situation. Ultimately, she went with the Shad approach: grab a sword and charge recklessly into the unknown. Though she had no fancy named blades, she had her Light Brand. It was something she was getting used to: it was a heavier blade than her usual rapier. Paige wasn’t much of a warrior, so she appreciated the sword more as a reusable torch. Holding the blade in one hand, she repeated a rune upon the blade. Light emanated from the weapon with the same effect as fire from a torch.
Paige pocketed the journal within her vest and descended down the spire stairway in search of the whisper’s source.
“Hello? Sir Stavros?” she said louder. Only echoes replied back.
"Ah, Wart, Kay! What news?" Damian saw his squires riding back from their scouting mission.
"Well sir, there's no one," came Kay's answer. He shrugged, his off-hand fingering his sword.
Damian raised an eyebrow, frowning. "No one?"
"At least, not nearly what we expected to find, sir," Wart added. "There's one horse in the bailey. Riderless, but the rider might be inside. It's a mare, so I assume the rider is a woman, but you never know, these days." He shrugged, but he kept his back straight and his head high. Wart was an excellent scout, Damian had found. His reliance on his squire of the table had given the boy some confidence he'd been lacking before, and at one point, he found them fighting; Wart had never fought Kay before, so seeing the two of them go at it was surprising. It'd turned out that Kay had said something that Wart did not like, insulting him, and had stood up for himself. He'd been proud of the lad for his growth. And humbling Kay would surely lead to a similar bit of growth for him, too. But he shook those thoughts off; Wart wasn't done. "It was weird, though. The windows were all dark, there were no other animals around, the gate was standing open... It was..."
"Haunting," Kay grunted, looking away.
"We were told a veritable army of heretics was here," Damian mused. "So either they know our force is coming, and they lie in ambush further in... or... some new devilry." The knight turned to the men he'd been assigned. "They think they can defeat us! We'll show them, won't we? Come along, for his majesty the Emperor, and the Saint Elimine!" He raised his lance.
"For the Emperor! For Elimine! Huzzah! Huzzah!" They cried back at him, raising their own.
Damian turned and started riding up the road, followed quickly by his squires and then his men. One hundred spears; household knights, men-at-arms, and a few hedge knights, too. There was more infantry coming, too, and wagons to transport any heretics they found. The whole raid had been planned out. Damian looked at his target as he rode closer down the road. The structure was huge, and well-situated for defense. He recognized the Etrurian architectural style, but it was just as Arthur and Kay had reported. The walls looked deserted. The gates stood open.
All of the men gathered in the bailey, just inside the gate. Just as Arthur reported, there was but a single horse, riderless, and female. He narrowed his eyes, then stood in his stirrups, addressing his men. "Half of you, hold the gate. I want the other half of you to dismount and pair up. Search the grounds! Leave no stone un-turned, no structure un-molested, no hidey-hole unchecked. They're hiding here somewhere." He looked at the sky, frowning; overcast.
Damian dismounted, himself, and called his squires. "Boys, you two are to search the grounds with the rest of them, dismounted. You are to watch each other's backs like you are brothers. This campaign we are on is too important for personal squabbles to foul up. Can I trust you?"
They nodded, and Damian walked towards the keep, assigning this task to himself. His lance was far too long to be useful indoors, so he'd left it in a special sling for it on his horse's saddle, but he had his mace on his belt, and his longsword in his hand. He stepped in, quickly disappearing into the depths of the Academy's keep.
This place is... abandoned..., Damian quickly concluded, mystified. It appeared not just abandoned, but actively decaying. A layer of thick dust had settled over everything. "Come out, rider! I know you're in here! You heretic!" he shouted, hearing his voice echo, as if in mockery.
Upon hearing Damian’s voice, Paige paused just as she approached the end of the stairwell. Hearing the word ‘heretic’ shouted out, the scholar suspected she was dealing with either the Empire or the Church. She did not have friendly experiences with either party, but she also was not equipped to put up much of a fight. Paige thought it best to put her sword back into its scabbard. To her surprise, the stairs were still visible, but not because of the light brand. She looked upward to see a blue flame, a wisp, floating above her head. Whatever spell the mage general had conjured, the magic was awakening upon the Imperial approach.
“I-I’m coming down,” Paige shouted back to Damian. “And I’m not a soldier, just a scholar.”
A blue wisp also appeared over Damian’s head, lighting the area around him. Though no one else was present, whispers echoed through the empty halls. They sounded close, yet distant. There was no detectable accent among them; only an otherworldly echo of a human past.
"A soldier so young..."
"That girl has no business wielding a sword..."
"Did they bring the war with them?"
"Has our lord given order?"
Paige finally came into view, looking around to see the source of the voices, yet none were visible. She was quite shaken at the turn of events, but attempted to maintain some composure so as not to startle the knight before her. With her empty hands in front of her, she nervously addressed Damian.
“I swear this isn’t me-”
Paige was interrupted with the loud crash of metal on stone, startled at the sound. The iron gate that hung above the keep’s entrance had come crashing down, separating them from Damian’s unit. The ropes that held the gate up lay useless upon the stone floor, cut cleanly.
"What in the--?" he whirled around, seeing the path he'd taken blocked from his return, and he looked up, spying the wispy flame over his head. "What the blazes is this? Where are the Etrurian criminals?" He turned to face his hostage, a young, pretty woman with red hair. "And who are you? Why are you here?"
“My name is Paige, Sir Knight,” Paige replied, trying to keep a calm demeanor. Truth was, she was frightened at the prospect of facing the dead. Her eyes darted around to look for some hidden danger as she spoke.
“As I said, I’m a scholar. I was to meet the mage general for research. But…I think he’s done something terrible. I believe all of us are in grave danger.”
During the conversation, the whispers seemed to die down. An eerie calm fell over to halls. Paige paused as a figure approached. From the ghostly light, it was clear they weren’t dealing with a real person: his ethereal form gave the same glow as the flames overhead. The ghost wore the armor of a soldier, but it was not clear what flag he fought under. And while his body was not real, the axe floating with his hand certainly was. The ghost soldier pointed it threateningly at Damian and Paige. Paige very quickly moved to stand behind Damian for protection. Whatever good that would do against phantoms.
"My lord has conquered this fortress. Have you come to claim it back?"
Four more ghost soldiers appeared behind him, each wielding axes. It did not seem they were prepared for peaceful conversation.
"Yes, I have! I will abjure you, foul phantoms!" Damian spat back at the ghosts that materialized in front of them. He was putting on a brave face, but he couldn't deny this was... well, aggravating, and set his nerves aflutter. Perhaps it was a good thing this scholar had a weapon on her. He could use the aid, before he had her tried for heresy with the rest.
The affirmative reply from Damian had triggered the phantoms into attacking. Two charged straight for Damian and Paige, axes raised over their heads. Despite their otherworldly presence, their movements resembled that of Imperial recruits: raw with potential had they lived longer.
Paige calmed her nerves enough to launch an attack. Equipping her light brand, she sidestepped from behind Damian and swung her blade. The sword’s runes lit up as it shot a light spell at one of the attacking phantoms. Though the spell only hit a shoulder, the attack was enough to cause the phantom to fade away, the axe falling uselessly on the floor.
Meanwhile, the remaining three phantoms stalked the battle, looking for an opening.
Damian swung his blade, striking the ax off-course as the phantom wielding it adjusted. The armor-clad knight struck with a fast swing, the blade cutting just below the phantom's armpit, slicing off the arm... or it would have, if the bloody thing didn't just fade away. He set his second hand on the pommel, hefting the steel as lightly as if it were a stick. "...Mmm... I am perturbed," he grunted, facing the other three phantoms and pointing the blade at them, his hands low. "Unskilled peasants, these."