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13
“Soldiers! Your wait is over. Prince Aric brings us great tidings today!” General Arges surveyed his army, every eye fixated on him, hanging to his every word.
“Today… we march for battle!” A roar waved through the crowd, crescendoing in swells of joy. “And we march immediately, prepare yourselves! For our mission is to aid General Steropes at Lake Raphia. News is that he and General Yagar are deeply entrenched in their battle, neither side giving an edge. They need an extra push and what better regiment to do it than the Krakens!”
“Krakens!” the crowd voiced back in response.
“Time is of the essence, so we are to march in the most direct path to Lake Raphia… through the Dark Forest itself.”
A hush came over the crowd. What emotion had taken their words so suddenly from them, wondered Aric. Had fear sucked the fight out of them? General Arges also seemed to sense it as well. He needed to respond quickly before the fear became contagious.
“Who is the most feared battalion in all of Vicedonia?” shouted Arges.
“Krakens!” the army replied.
“Who?”
“Krakens!”
“Who?”
“Krakens!”
“Yes, we are. If the Dark Forest brings us death, then we will smile back and tell him ‘not today, good friend.’” Arges pounded on his chest. The army responded in kind, and an undeniable energy reverberated through the group once again.
“We move!” ordered Arges.
The camp emptied quickly. Soldiers stood at the ready facing east into the foothills of the Dark Forest. Their efficiency was remarkable, a testament to the well-oiled machine of death they proclaimed to be. Arges stood at the vanguard with Aric beside him.
Arges bowed slightly. “At your command, your highness.”
Aric stared into the Dark Forest, trying to find some omen that would strengthen his resolve. But all he saw was black, darkness so deep that no trees, branches, or any other signs of life could be seen within. As if he was peering into the void of the world. It’s already too late to turn back now, he thought.
“Let’s go,” Aric whispered.
As the army funneled through the forest, the twisted gnarled tree trunks seemed to warp into monstrous faces of hate and anger, staring back at them, warning them to turn away before it was too late. A faint wisp of grey would reflect here and there, slightly illuminating the path before them. As the darkness began to dissipate and their eyes adjusted to their new environment, the Dark Forest seemed to come alive, little by little. Plants somehow grew in this place of death, growing into oddly misshapen forms.
The history of the Dark Forest did not make the march any easier. It was once the battleground of one of the greatest battles in the history of Eos. During the First Great War, this site was where the decisive battle between King Vicedon and Emperor Renza had taken place. Never had the two kings met on the battlefield before. Their respective armies had battled their ways across the land, conquering other civilizations and expanding their powerful empires. It was only a matter of time before the two great armies collided, and it was here at the Dark Forest where it finally happened.
Amassed between the two armies were over six hundred thousand troops, ready to defend their kings to their dying breaths. There was no forest here before, just a plain, open field of grass. After the battle, all six hundred thousand troops had been killed, soaking the ground red with their blood. The two kings were the last two to remain. They battled for three consecutive days, their power and stamina well beyond those of regular men, which made them so well suited to be kings. But even so, they were still human, and after the third day, exhaustion set in. On the final day, Emperor Renza caught King Vicedon with a fatal blow, driving Lightstorm straight through his heart and burning him up from inside out. But it wasn’t a complete victory. So weakened by the battle was Emperor Renza, that he collapsed to the ground shortly after, never to awaken again.
It was believed that King Vicedon had wounded Emperor Renza with a poisonous sword beforehand, thus killing him ever so slowly during their epic battle. Regardless, where they died supposedly now stood the giant trees of sickness. The two kings’ bodies provided the seeds, while the blood of their murdered soldiers saturated the ground with hate and anger. The branches of these horrific trees grew out in the thousands, some would say six hundred thousand exactly, one for each soldier who died on this field. The branches were deformed and knotted, capturing the soldiers’ faces in their final moments. Their ghostly visages reached out, grabbing each other as if still trying to fight. The branches intricately crossed in overlapping patterns, creating a canopy above that blotted out the sunlight, rejecting life itself. Death had rooted here into a tapestry of pain.
They marched for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality only amounted to a day’s time. There were no open areas to camp for the night, so they continued on in search of one. The ground consisted of jagged rocks and blackened roots. Fog, mist, and a foul stench permeated the air, making it difficult to keep food down. By the third day, the army was nearly worn out, even the mighty strength of the Krakens succumbing to the darkness that weighed heavy in this forest.
Suddenly, they heard the sound of rushing water, perhaps a distant waterfall that brightened their waning hopes. The idea of fresh water pursed their lips with salivation. They followed the sound eagerly; it grew louder and more deafening as they approached, but still no waterfall was in sight.
“It should be here,” said Arges, as he covered his ears from the noise. It was as if he was standing beneath a waterfall, waves crashing down upon him. How could a simple sound have such power and weight to it?
“This way!” Aric shouted, pointing to his right just beyond some trees and bushes. Aric pushed his way through the heavy brush, groping in the darkness, but still making some headway. When he came out the other side, he knew what the source of the sound was. He had found the Memorial of the Great Kings. The rumors were true. The two massive trees stood rooted in the ground, right next to each other. The trunks were so massive, it would have taken twenty men to stand hands locked and completely surround just one of the trunks. The trees blossomed into the canopy above, branches writhing out in unnatural forms, faces appeared in the wood revealing varying expressions of agony, pain, and hopeless despair. Some branches appeared to be reliefs come to life, swords drawn and fists clenched, aimed at their enemies. The towering pillars of vengeance faced one another, their soldiers continuing to battle on in the afterlife. These trees indeed possessed the souls of the fallen.
The remainder of the Vicedonian army began to pour through the path Aric had created. As they filled in the open space, the realization of where they were slowly settled in. The noise was gone, too, as if it was meant to keep intruders out of this gravesite.
“We should not be here!” cried out Captain Izik. “We have disturbed their resting place. We will all die here! We must leave!”
“Get a hold of yourself, Captain!” commanded Arges. “Once you allow the fear to root inside you, it will overcome you, and death will find you quickly. You must holdfast!”
“No, we need to turn back! We need to get out of here!” Captain Izik turned around, dashing into nearby bushes.
“Captain Titan! Secure that soldier!” shouted Arges.
Titan picked up a rock and threw it about twenty feet, slamming into the side of Izik’s helmet, sending him crashing into the ground, and knocking him unconscious.
“My soldiers can handle this graveyard of a forest, Aric. Your bodyguards are weak minded. You need to control them before their fear spreads like a disease. Once you let it in, it will infect quickly,” reiterated Arges.
Aric stared at his unconscious captain lying on the ground. His heart began to beat faster, fear was beginning to take root, but he knew he could not let on.
“Do not worry about my men, I will handle them,” he said.
They slung the unconscious captain over the horse of a soldier in the rear of the army. Keeping him out of sight of the rest of the army would hopefully make them forget about him. And if he should continue to lose his faculties, they could abandon him and sacrifice his body to the Dark Forest. Perhaps, it’d appease spirits of the Black that were rumored to reside here.
“We cannot move any further,” Titan said. “We need to rest, General.”
General Arges did not like the suggestion, and of all the places to find an open space, it had to be here at the Memorial of the Great Kings. But if they continued at their pace, worse things could befall them.
Arges nodded in agreement. “We rest now, prepare to camp here.” He stared at the two trees, and the armies of the dead seemed to dance with joy.
***
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