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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #2114467
A group of acolytes is tasked with destroying the mausoleum of a fallen warrior.
The band of acolytes had trod on the dirt road for well over two days. The days were long stretches of silence, broken up only by the occasional attempts at banter which were short-lived and universally reviled amongst the group. At times, they would fish out rations from their backpacks. They were reliable, but unremarkable meals. The best meals for them were prepared at the evening campfire, roasting game that they had hunted beforehand. With them was an elven ranger named Viessa Perwynn, a woman with deadly accuracy with a longbow. The others kept a fair distance from her, but were nonetheless more than happy to consume the game that she hunted.

Of course, the others had their role as well. One of them, a human wizard named Omixium, carried a large sack of an unknown substance with him at all times. He would always make sure to set it down gingerly, and would glare at those who approached it. The rogue who had attempted to open the sack was forced to visit the cleric to treat fresh cuts on his hand, inflicted by a small dagger by the looks of it. Omixium refused to clean it, with splotches of blood now layered on top of the dagger's blade. Those who saw the dagger knew to stay away.

The half-elf cleric, Jamewin Balkas, was a young man with a soft and gentle voice. He was likely no older than eighteen. He would mix herbs together to cure minor ailments, sit beside those he healed to give them comfort, and made sure to check in on everyone to see if they were okay. Some of the party derisively referred to him as "mom", but that would be met with an elbow in the chest. They knew that once they fell to the elements or monsters, they would come to him and him alone. Even the rogue warmed up to the cleric once he healed the wounds that Omixium gave him.

The halfling rogue, Rufus Goldworthy, had the habit of passing a gold coin through his fingers. He would carry on him small vials of poison, intended to be poured on the blade. His eyes darted back and forth constantly, and he concealed much of his face behind a highwayman's cloak. He meticulously picked from a small array of deadly weapons, all of which were designed to easily hidden. He carried a small bag of ball bearings, should he run into a foe attempting to bum rush him. He stayed behind the barbarian, often orbiting her as if her combat prowess would somehow rub off on him.

The barbarian, a half-orc woman named Ragash, would often swat at him. Although Rufus was too quick, she could easily crush him if a blow connected. Ragash was slightly smaller than a human, but was far more muscular. She donned a suit of leather armor, cobbled together from different sources. She carried with her an enormous greataxe which only she could wield. She wore a necklace fashioned from monster's teeth. When the others stopped to eat, she would consistently eat much more than they would. Her eating habits often drew odd looks from the rest of the party, as she would scarf down meals while leaving a mess around her. There was nothing she loved better than by tearing off a tough flank of steak.
The party was far away from the city of Medamarsae, the economic hub of the midwestern area of Lammins. During the lonely nights, the lights of the city in the horizon were the only things separating them from total darkness. When Ragash was on watch, she would hold up her fingers as if she was holding the lights herself. It reminded her of the fireflies she caught as a child. There was an air of innocence to them, a simple wonder that only she could appreciate.

After many hours of walking, the party came to a graveyard. Rufus tinkered with the gate to the fence, jimmying the lock with simple lockpicks. The earth was dry and dusty, far from any water source. Viessa pointed at a lone mausoleum in the distance, "That's where we need to go." They ascended up the foothills to their destination, Omixium gripping his cloth sack tightly to him.

They entered the mausoleum and approached the tomb at its center. Ragash lifted the stone sarcophagus lid into the air, placing it as quietly as she could. The body within it was mummified. It was adorned in plate mail, decorated with holy symbols, and in between his folded arms was a polished sword. This man was a noble paladin.

Jamewin got closer, not intimidated by the sight of death as the others were. He asked the others, "Does anyone know this man?"

Omixium nodded, "He is a man without name. He fought alongside Sylphine and the others against the Order of the Aces. They killed Daln'ruth the Wicked and saved Lammins from the clutches of disease."

Rufus chimed in, "Yes...Brain Leak. Though now that it's cured I don't see much of a purpose here. Why is this man important?"

Viessa explained, "It's not so much of who he is. It's more about what he stood for."

Ragash objected, "But this man, he is good man!"

Viessa nodded gravely, "That may be, but he was a paladin of the old gods." She pointed at the symbol on his armor. "Now that the old gods have died, so too must their legacy."

Rufus asked, "Does anyone know how this man died?"

Viessa nodded, "It was the work of an arrow. You can see the mark here." She pointed at a small fissure in the man's skull. She mused on further, "I wouldn't be surprised if he was killed defending his church, or perhaps his god."

It was true. The gods of old were once immortal, but when the new gods came into power, the old ones were made mortal by their hands. Once entombed in flesh, the old gods faced their own deaths at the hands of the new ones. Afterwards, it was their command to erase any and all evidence of their previous existence from the entire world of Rhagnim. Good, evil, law, chaos, all of it was to be washed away.

Ragash shook her head, "But that bad! What if our gods die? Then they do the same to us!"

Viessa bit her lip. "So be it. We do what we must, of what our gods command us to do. Omixium, do it." Omixium undrew the drawstrings on his cloth sack and began pouring a fine white powdery substance over the body. It kept pouring, far more than one would believe the bag could hold. The others dashed out of the mausoleum, leaving Omixium to his task.
After half an hour, Omixium walked out of the mausoleum. "That was enough Prolannium to fuel a train, maybe one of those on the Gorlandian line...what was it called?"

Rufus stroked his hair, "Deus Ex Machina. The one run by that Gearshiner gnome. Either way, finish the job."

Omixium pointed his fingers towards the Prolannium powder leading out from the mausoleum. Tendrils of turquoise spurt out of his fingers. They formed into bolts and launched themselves at the powder. The explosion that followed destroyed the entire mausoleum in a crimson ball of flame. The aftermath left large chunks of destroyed stone behind. The body was completely vaporized, with small chunks of armor scattered about the place.

In the distance, Jamewin asked the obvious question, "What about those who knew him? Will they remember?"

Viessa assured him, "They've taken a vow of silence regarding his name. Sylphine dares not speak his name. All that would know won't say, and all that would say won't know. That's enough for us."

Jamewin nodded, "But the world will remember his deeds. He has shaped the world through his actions. As long as that is true, I'm satisfied." They gazed into the distance, Ragash held her fingers up once more to grasp the lights coming from Medamarsae. Now the deed was done, and they could all move on.
© Copyright 2017 Dylan Greene (arenejo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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