A New Day Dawns

A New Day Dawns

The sun rose on Caer Flaunys, reveling the carnage caused by the previous night’s battle. Countless bodies littered the courtyard. Some were of warriors to exhausted to return to the main hall and just slept where they fell, amid the blood and severed limbs. Unfortunately far too many of them were of the dead or those who were not long for this world. The battle had taken its toll on us all and unfortunately it was the wounded that had to pay the price. While some were able to mend their own wounds and those of the men near them, the vast majority of the wounded that did not return to the main hall after the Black Knight’s fall were left to suffer a slow death. And while the though of our brethren bleeding to death outside grieved us, there was nothing we could do. Those that made it back barely had strength enough to remove their armor before they fell asleep.

After a silent, grim meal, we began the task of searching the dead, separating our men from the demonic beings we had fought in the light of day they were more horrific then we could have imagined. Their green skinned faces were a collection of scars of varying ages. Their now lifeless red eyes still seemed to glow with an unearthly light as dried black blood ran from their wounds and between the spiked teeth that filled their mouths.

In the dark I had assumed their armor was black plate armor, but in the light of day the horrifying truth could be seen. The black armor was skin. Black in color and held together by some unknown means, no one knew what kind of skin it was or if that was it’s natural color, but not a man among us would have been surprised to find it was human.

And so we set about the grim task of disposing of the dead. The army of darkness we loaded onto carts and moved far from the Caer to be set ablaze. Noxious smoke filled the air, blotting out the sun as animals for a mile around fled the pyre. The affect the smoke and fumes had on the health of the men would be a curse for years to come.
I had the dark fortune of dealing with our dead. Most we could identify, some were battered and torn beyond recognition. We placed them with in the burial mound and blessed the land, knowing it would forever be a place of honor. The severed limbs and unidentifiable heads that we could not place with a body were interned in the center, in the hopes that the warriors they belonged to would find them in the after life.

Sorrow filled the caer as the people slowly returned. As much as we grieved for our brothers in arms, the grief was far greater for these. Each of the fallen had been someone’s father or brother; a husband or son. While we had seen them die fighting valiantly, they only knew they had perished during battle, and no amount of comforting would ease their pain; only time.

Life began to return to normal in the caer. Repairs on the wall and the gates were made and before long all seemed to return to normal. Except for the missing faces, it was almost as if nothing had happened. As the repairs were being made, Fer Croo sent out the Knights Of The Morning Star. He wanted to know where the black army came from and who was responsible for this loss of life. I grabbed my things and prepared to ride with my brethren, but the Great King stopped me, saying that I must remain. As my fellow knight rode off in search of out enemy, I asked him why. All he would say was that a day was fast approaching that I would be needed here and that I had to see what was to come.

Tragically, prophetically, that day would arrive all too soon.



This story is part 1 of The Sacrifice, a 5 part series that is a sequel to The Siege