“So, how much further do we need to go till we get there?” Gargonia questioned, looking into the distance with an interested look in her eye. The walk ahead was difficult as it was, even for an adventurer.
“Just a while longer…we’re almost at the meeting point now.” Elithil replied, continuing to walk further as the others followed behind.
“Hold on…meeting point? What are you talking about? I thought we were going to a kingdom, village, anywhere.” Arsil replied, walking over ahead and stepping out in front of Elithil. “Where are we going?!” She demanded, starting to get agitated, despite her quiet nature.
“Arsil, enough!” Layris demanded, standing next to both of them, her expression firm. “Arguing isn’t going to get us there faster. What we need is to keep moving forward, because arguing here like children isn’t going to get us there earlier.”
Before any of them could respond, a rustle came from the bushes, it caught the attention of all adventurers, the rustling happened again…and again. Something was approaching slowly but getting closer anyway.
Stepping out was two people, the first was a young woman no older than 25 years old, black hair that reached her shoulders, dark eyes and an intense look. Her armour was light with minor white over robes; she looked like some kind of Paladin. The other seemed like an old man with grey robes, with a wood staff in hand, likely a wizard of some kind.
“Elithil, I’m glad to see you are safe.” He said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his tired eyes, walking towards the group, the woman remained where she was standing, her gaze glued onto everyone else. “Your mother is worried about you, you know?” He asked, Elithil only nodded, her expression under the mask likely reluctantly solemn.
“Thank you for coming to speak with me, Galiard. This is…important.” She remarked, the armoured woman finally walking over too.
“Of course…for your mother, I wouldn’t have you in danger, what’s the problem?” He asked, him and the other woman completely ignorant to what the White Lions knew.
A few hours later, they all sat on a hill, quietly thinking in silence, which they had been doing for hours now, at least it was properly daytime now. The knowledge of what they all knew hung in the air over all of them like a grey cloud before the storm.
“This is bad then…” The new woman said, she didn’t look at anyone in particular, just downwards as her sword rested against her shoulder.
“Who are you, anyway?” Gargonia asked, genuinely curious as to who she was, after all, neither she nor Galiard actually said who she was. “Wait, are you his…lover? Or maybe his granddaughter? Better yet, his caretaker.” She joked with a grin, like it was the funniest joke ever.
“Don’t be disgusting, Nia.” Layris responded, a disgusted look on her face, her gaze turning to Galiard and the woman and her expression softening. “I apologise for her…attitude.” She said solemnly, genuinely sorrowed by her friends attitude.
“It’s no worry at all, this is Illeya Dawnheart.” He said, holding an arm out towards her, she didn’t really react to the announcement.
The four women immediately looked shocked, the revelation stuck them to the bone like it was something they had never possibly considered.
“Dawnheart?! As in the legendary Dawnheart Family?! The Undead Hunters of the old kingdom of Elnoria, Dawnheart?!” Gargonia questioned, her eyes fixed onto Illeya who didn’t seem to care. “Wait, if you’re really an Elnorian, do you like…also live for centuries? Are you like, in your 40’s or something?”
“I’m 90…is that an issue with you?” She questioned, her tone slightly irritated, like the change of subject was a personal offense to her.
“What?! No way…you don’t even look a day into 25…though, I do suppose Elnorians age far slower than normal humans and all. So, what, you’ll live to see like…350 years or something, right? I could never get over that, personally…not that it’s a problem or anything.”
An awkward silence fell upon the group once again, everyone’s thoughts remained on the idea that these monsters, the Zarumogol, have returned after all these centuries too, it was both uncanny and worrisome. The backlash this could cause politically across the world would be devastating.
“I promised your mother I would protect you and help when you needed me. And regardless of what is to happen, I do intend to keep this promise.” Galiard commented quietly, looking at Elithil.
Once again, they all went silent again. Which seemed to stretch out uncomfortably for much longer than it should have, or at least, how it felt like it should have. Each person among them remaining quiet and focusing on doing their own thing.
“If what you say is true after all, and they have returned, they could not have done it on their own.” Galiard commented, blowing smoke out from the pipe he had breathed in from. A realisation that all of them slowly understood one after another before he continued. “Which means someone has called for their return. Likely one from the Dark Age wars from centuries ago, only now choosing to return.”
“So uhm…who even killed them in the first place?” Gargonia questioned, genuinely curious as to how they were originally defeated. “I mean, if they came back from the dead recently, someone had to kill them in the first place, right?”
The question made sense, but it’s not that the information was somewhat difficult to get depending on where you were or who you were. But for someone like Galiard, it was more than easy to find out, a few of them probably thought he was there, he looked so old.
“Well, there were…are 7 in total. Before the 'Battle of Twilight’, or the last battle of the Dark Age War, they were considered too powerful to be harmed. So, there were 5 blades made, all of which, forged by the best dwarven smiths and blessed by the High Elves too. They called them the ‘Palil Sertarm’, or ‘Starlight Blades’. Most were killed by fine warriors of the age. Except for the 7th.”
“7th? Who’s that?” Arsil asked, curious as to who this last member was supposed to be.
“The deadliest and greatest of the 7, he is the Lord of the Zarumogol…the Wight King of Tazekdem…’Zallak’ is his name. He was finally defeated and killed by the greatest monarch of Elnoria, the ‘Hero King of Elnoria, Huruzan’. Their bodies laid to rest in the northern mountains near the dwarf kingdoms.” Galiard explained, there was a weight in his voice that held a weight that said ‘Yeah, I know because I was there and I wish I wasn’t’.
“What about your ancestor?” Gargonia asked, looking at Illeya, genuinely curious about the history of her bloodline.
“Elsarion, Son of Keresiron, one of the 5 Heroes, killed the ‘Blood Beast of Kandul’, died while facing the dark lord…nothing else that everyone else doesn’t already know.” She responded, her tough exterior as sharp as usual and with a slightly irritated expression at the silliness of her question.
The silence returned once again, Layris taking in all this information while Elithil remained just as quiet as usual, then, the sound of something on four legs rushing forward, many creatures on four legs and approaching very quickly.