The Black Crypt
A droplet of water splashed onto Galin’s face. The trees were covered with green moss like a rash. Their leaves were so thick they nearly blotted out the sun. As soon as the boys entered Frog Woods, they were cold, almost as if the heat from the sun couldn’t penetrate the thick, sickly looking trees.
“Is it going to rain?” Ellis asked.
Galin shook his head. “No, it’s the air. It’s so…so moist.”
Thea stopped.
“What is it, girl?” Galin asked as he patted her head.
Ellis looked around. “I don’t like this place. It’s…creepy.” He pointed at Thea. “Even your dumb horse senses it.”
A wolf howled in the distance. Galin’s stomach twisted. “It’s in your head.” He urged Thea forward.
Runt ducked under a branch, but Ellis wasn’t so lucky. The branch slapped him in the face. “Damn you!”
Galin laughed. He heard a moan amongst the rustling leaves. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up at attention.
Thea stopped.
“Is it still in my head?” Ellis asked. “You do remember that we are looking for a black zombie, right?”
Galin nodded. “I didn’t forget.” Even the Infernal Grotto wasn’t like this. It was almost like the whole Frog Woods was cursed, not just those poor creatures in the Black Crypt. “Let’s keep going.”
Ellis shivered. “Fine.”
A mere hundred yards behind them, a black-robed Dark Elf rode a brown horse. Tasar pulled the hood off his head. “Where are you going?” he asked. He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out a small pouch. It contained a clear crystal within the grasp of a dragon made of gold on the end of a golden chain. He slipped it around his neck. It had a faint dark-blue glow. The dark woods were no longer dark to his eyes. He could see through the darkness as if the sun was at its peak during the brightest day.
“That’s better,” Tasar said. He urged his mount forward, following Galin and Ellis, but far enough back that they couldn’t see him. If it didn’t have to be an accident or at least not look like an assassination, he’d be done already. This should have been an easy 300,000 crowns. He sniffed. The whole idea of fearing a martyr was foolish. The Darkstriders were in control of the kingdom and nothing was going to stop them. Sure, they really didn’t go east of the Wailing Mountains, but why bother? Everything of value was in Axain, not Ithsein to the east or Shumnar or Leonga to the north. But, Tasar had no loyalty to them. Why not use them like they used every other Dark Elf in Setan and Volor? Being an independent contractor had its…advantages.
Tasar veered his steed to the right, following Galin and Ellis. What was it about this boy? Sure, he was supposedly the prophesied boy king that would destroy the Darkstriders, but could he? Sure, the boy had powers, but he had no army. Even an army of 10,000 men couldn’t take Staerdale Castle. The Darkstriders only pulled it off because they’d already infiltrated the castle by assuming human form for decades, but the boy wouldn’t have that much time. No, it would have to be a straight-out attack. Tasar shook his head. This boy and his allies were feared way too much, but he’d be more than willing to take the Darkstrider’s crowns for these jobs. He rubbed his chin. What if the prophecy was wrong?
Orange light of a sunset seeped through the tress ahead. As Galin and Ellis moved closer, the brighter the light became. “Are we coming to a clearing?” Galin asked.
Ellis gripped his reins tighter. “I hope so.”
Galin looked over at Ellis. “Me too.” Ever since they were kids, Galin (back when his name was Seth), Jena, and Ellis were like siblings. Ellis was always the one who lightened things up and took more risks than Galin liked, but he was always there for him. No matter what Galin asked him to do, Ellis always stepped up. Was this loyalty? Once he raised an army, would they be as loyal to him as Ellis? How does one so young get men to do things that would probably get them killed? How does—?
“What are you thinking over there?” Ellis asked.
Galin shook his head. “I’m just—well, after we save Jena, we’re getting back to raising an army.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“What do I know about leading an army? Nothing.” Galin looked away. “I don’t know that even I would follow me.”
Ellis glared at him. “Will you knock off the self-pity crap, please! You make me want to puke all over you.” He grinned. “I won’t miss, either.”
“Why do you follow me?”
Ellis sniffed. “I don’t. You’re my friend, and so is Jena. That’s why I’m here.” He laughed. “Believe me, you’re no great leader.”
“What if I fail the people who decide to follow because of that…prophecy?” Galin asked.
Ellis shrugged. “So, what if they do? I mean, if they are really that stupid then they—”
“They really believe it, Ellis.”
“I know,” Ellis said. “Galin, you can only do the best you can. Listen to those who have more experience than you, but don’t blindly follow their advice, either.”
Galin shook his head. “How will I know the difference?”
Ellis glared at him. “How the hell would I know? I’m just a thief from Crey Village. Stop being so damn gushy on me, before I kick your ass.”
They entered a large clearing. The wind rustled the tall grass covering the valley floor for as far as the eye could see. The Wailing Mountains were visible to the west. In the center was a hill with a large manor on top. It was covered with vines, as if unkempt for years, or even decades—or even longer. The sun was setting over the mountains.
“That must be it,” Galin said.
Ellis stopped Runt at the wood line. “Let’s camp here and go in the morning.”
Galin frowned. “Why? Jena needs it now!”
“Because were going after black zombies, dimwit! Do you really want to do that in the dark?” Ellis demanded. “That would be stupid. Besides, if we get killed, Jena will die too. We need to be smart about it.”
Galin dismounted Thea. “Fine. I guess you have a point.” They began to set up camp.
Tasar dismounted. “The black crypt? Another opportunity?” he asked himself.
The morning came quickly. As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, Galin shook Ellis. “Let’s go.”
Ellis was covered by a wool horse blanket, using his pack as a pillow. “I’m coming,” Ellis said as he sat up.
Galin started packing up their camp. “Do zombies come out during the day?”
Ellis shook his head. “How the hell would I know? I never knew these freaky things even existed.” He put the last of his things into Runt’s saddlebags.
“Ready?” Galin asked as he mounted Thea.
Ellis nodded.
Galin urged Thea out into the long grass, heading towards the vine-covered manor. His stomach twisted as they got closer. His eyes jumped from rock to rock, mound to mound, to anything that a black zombie could hide behind. He blinked. What does a black zombie even look like? Was it like a lich? Like those things in the Infernal Grotto? In his rush, Galin didn’t even think to ask what they even looked like. Only one thing was for sure, they were not outside the manor. In fact, there was nothing.
“Maybe they sleep inside or something during the day,” Ellis said.
Galin shrugged. He stopped Thea in front of the manor. Not only was it covered with vines, the stones were chipped and stained with blood. No grass grew within ten feet of its walls. It was almost like the plants were cursed, too. The solid walls came to two large solid wood doors. They were covered by elaborate carvings. A century ago, they must have been beautiful, but not anymore. The left door was closed and the right door was pushed inward, hanging off the bottom hinge. “What happened?”
Ellis shook his head. “No idea.” He tied Runt off and grabbed his daggers and a small sack. “Let’s get this thing and get out of here.”
Galin drew his sword. He willed the dragon magic to be ready and he felt the familiar tingle in his heart. “Come on.”
Ellis Followed Galin inside.
As if the smell was held within the manor’s walls by some magical spell, the stench of decaying bodies ambushed Galin. The courtyard was huge. Nothing grew on the ground, not even a single blade of grass. Galin looked around at the empty courtyard. Across the yard were six old wine barrels stacked against the main house. The stone manor house was two stories tall and looked a thousand years old. Near the far wall was a pile of broken wooden crates.
Ellis grabbed his nose. “This place smells like you.”
Galin glared at him. “Funny. Let’s clear the courtyard before we go inside.”
“Sure.” Ellis walked to Galin’s left.
Galin started towards the barrels. Since the courtyard was empty, there were only two places a zombie could hide, right? His grip tightened. His head snapped left as a crate was knocked over. He pointed over at the pile of crates.
Ellis nodded.
Galin willed his offensive dragon magic. Tiny electrical arcs leapfrogged across his skin and engulfed his sword. His eyes began to glow. I can do it, he thought.
Something moaned from behind the pile.
Ellis shifted further left, trying to envelop the creature.
Galin picked up the pace.
As it stood up, several crates were toppled off the pile. Its rotting flesh was as black as the night. Its exposed bones were even darker. Bright-green eyes decorated its dark skull. The clawed fingers matched the sharpened teeth. It charged at Galin.
Galin sidestepped, tripping it.
It rolled right.
Galin’s sword slammed onto its right arm, severing it from the black zombie’s body. He jumped back as the severed arm used its fingers to charge at him. “What the hell?” Galin kicked the arm away.
The severed limb landed near Ellis.
“Oh, damn!” Ellis said as the arm clawed its way towards him.
The zombie got back up, staring right into Galin’s eyes.
Galin blinked. His began to feel heavy. His legs started to wobble.
“What are you doing?” Ellis yelled as he kicked the arm away. “Kill it already!”
Galin snapped out of it.
The zombie lunged at him, grabbing his arm.
Galin tried to pull away.
It pulled his arm towards its mouth.
“No you don’t!” Galin yelled as he dropped to the ground and immediately rolled to the left, leaving the zombie face down in the dirt.
It started to get back up.
In a single motion, Galin leaped to feet and brought his sword down, severing both of its legs.
The legs twitched, as if trying to move. The zombie grabbed Galin’s foot with its last arm.
Galin kicked it away. He raised his sword.
The zombie rolled over onto its back.
His sword slammed into its neck, decapitating the creature.
Ellis snatched up the head.
It tried to bite him.
He tossed it to the ground. “How am I supposed to cut its tongue out? It’s still alive!”
Galin smashed the headless body. “So’s this thing.”
Ellis looked around. He needed…something. A fallen piece of stone was laying on the ground near the pile of crates. He bolted towards it.
“What are you doing?” Galin asked as kicked the moving, headless body.
“I’ve got an idea,” Ellis said as he picked up the rock.
Galin blinked as he saw the two legs crawl to its body. “I’ve got a bad feeling. Hurry!”
Ellis slammed the rock into its skull, ripping the jawbone from the skull. He snatched it up and kicked the skull away. “The tongue is still moving!”
Galin’s mouth dropped as the two legs reattached themselves to the zombie. The closer severed arm pulled itself towards the headless creature. “Hurry, we can’t kill it!”
Ellis carved out the tongue and tossed it into the small sack. “Got it.”
Galin whirled around as he heard more moans behind them. There were at least ten to twelve black zombies emerging from the manor house. “We’ve got to go, now!”
Ellis bolted towards the doors. As soon as Runt was in sight, he leaped on her back.
Galin sheathed his sword and sprinted towards Thea.
“Come on!” Ellis yelled.
Galin climbed on Thea and cracked the reins. Thea galloped away from the manor with Runt close behind. As they approached the wood line, Galin looked back. “They’re not following us.”
“Maybe they can’t leave the black crypt,” Ellis said. He looked down at the small sack thrashing around inside the saddlebag. “That damn thing is still moving!”
Galin urged Thea forward. “Let’s save Jena.”
“After you,” Ellis said.
Galin headed south, towards Nia. They would get there in time, hopefully.