The Herald of the Bonfire

The Herald and the Man

The Forest of Fallen Giants.

The starting point for many, a place where lush greenery lavish and flourished, with rocks and trees consumed by the thick green moss found everywhere in the area. To most, many may find the sight calming, maybe even finding a peaceful serenity in the view. But as beautiful as it may be, its past is one filled with such unnecessary sorrow and suffering, it nearly single-handedly brought the once prosperous Kingdom of the province to ruins. A field of intense war fought between the Giants and Mankind, brought about by a stolen relic.

The battle waged on for the longest time, casualties rising on either side, till finally the Giants retreated back to their land, having lost the war. Mankind emerged victorious, but there wasn't much to cheer about. Soon after, when humanity was still recovering, the Curse began spread like wildfire all across the Land, finishing off the Kingdom and its people.

Now, only remnants of the lost Kingdom and its battle with the Giants remains to tell the tale. The trees of the forest, once the proud bodies of the fierce Giants that ravaged the land, now reduced to nothing more than a empty husk of its former self. And underneath those trees, the fallen hollowed warriors wanders about, swinging their swords in hand to the slightest movement they see, still fighting a war long past. Due to this, many had met tragic ends in these woods. One by one, She sent them off, only to fail at the slightest danger, incapable for the task forced upon the Undead.

So when Her Monarch failed to return in the time She unawarely set for Him, dreaded thoughts began to invade her mind, each more horrendous than the last. It wasn't long before the paranoia set in, and as a way to ease the growing tension, she began moving her fingers about in her clasped hands, mere speculation no longer able to satiate her burning desire to know of His outcome.

"You alright there, Lady?" The Blacksmith took a step towards the Fire, concern visible on his decaying face.

She immediately brought her thoughts to a halt and stood still once again, caught off guard by his question. It has been a long time since She felt unease, and understands that if She were to guide this Unded she would need to get use this feeling.

"I'm fine." She assured. "You need not fret over me, My task isn't one without its repercussions after all."

The Blacksmith still remained unconvinced, and began walking forwards. Stopping only when reaching the Bonfire and took a sit. "You say that, but the paleness of your skin says otherwise. Come, talking about the matter at mind will do much good. Tell me."

Truth be told, for so long, there was always a feeling, ever since She resolved to finish Her task, a feeling gnawing away at Her heart. A feeling of guilt. From the first all the way to the current Monarch. All these Undead, brought to their demise by her guiding, by her words.

"Are you sure of this? Hearing the rambles of a mere Herald?" She asked.

"Fire away, I'll be sure to listen." He answered with a smile.

Still She remained unsure and look down at her feet, unable to get the words out, no matter how much She willed herself too. She thought it was foolish to say it, something so trivial. It isn't any of his concerns and that telling him would be a waste of his time, She keeps telling herself.

For a moment, She shifted her gaze into him, and saw him resting upon the dirt, a patience smile on his face, an air of eagerness surrounding him and looked away once more.