《Life of an Undead》


 A Skeleton

    There it stood... stood... stood... and stood, ever present at the Dark City¡¯sgates, since the dayitselfwas created: a skeleton, or more precisely:anUndead Skeleton.


    Itwas near perfect in every sense. Clean,polished,white wereitsbones.No scratches or dents upon them.No bone mismatched or seemed out.


    The teeth nestled initsjaw,snug and neatly to a tee.Afine group of pearly whites.


    Where eyes would be, instead were haunting pale lights.Acold flame that swirled gentlyat each sockets centre.


    And initsright grasp was a rather plain and simple looking spear, new and stainless of any blood.


    Hm?¡°Who made thisUndeadyou ask?¡± ¡°And for what purpose?¡±


    Well, to answer the first:Alocal, of the Dark CityZiligish,as it is called. ANecromancerby the nameofNurglishAvitch,one of the many who hope tohave theirnames heardthroughoutthe ages, written in stone and the like¡ªone of many poor foolish buggers.


    As for the second question: It was made for the soulpurposeof being a guard of the gates¡ªorperhapsfodder would be a better word? You see,Undead,are quite a useful bunch; you can give them orders, they¡¯ll follow them without question, nether ask for pay; all one need do isfinda dead body, know the ways of necromancy -orhirea Necromancer- and hey presto,you gotyourself a poodle.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    And thus, theskeletonstood, ever still, everpresentat theright side to the blackgatesofZiligish. Itwas not the only guard however.


    Stationed to the left of the gates wasa man.This man wasa 20-year-oldrookyguard of the city, known jokingly asPeckerto hiscollegesandZelkandto hisfamily, who knew nothing of the nickname.Zelkand,worearmour of obsidian,simple in designlike the restof the guard.And he sat lent back in a chair spending every minute picking at his nose, unlike the vigilant skeleton.


    It was a normal day as always beneath thesmoulderingblack clouds. Not many went in or out the city, and little ever happened. Theskeleton only looked forward at the same rugged road, asithad done always, not questioning orders or pondering them.


    But then something started sniffing at its leg. The cool lights of the skeleton¡¯s eye sockets flicked downwards. Hm. It was a dog, a very normal dog, a Labrador. This was the single most disturbing thing the skeleton hadeverwitnessed in the entirety ofitsexistence. Why? Why was it so normal?


    The Labrador looked up at the stackof walking bones and pantedadorablyso.


    The skeleton had seen many dogs, all undead or monstrous in nature, a near daily routine.But this? This was wrong. This wasThe Lands of Darkness,a land ofmonstrosities, not fragile balls of fur. How in the 12 Abysses, has thisthing...survived.


    The Labrador tilted its headslightlyleft, making a curious moan.


    Should the skeleton kill it? Or justignoreit? The skeleton felt torn between the two. Oh. Oh, woe is the undead.


    Then theLabradorturned its side to the skeleton, raised a leg, and pissed on theundead¡¯sfeet, followed by a perfect smoking brown dump, before running of intodarkplains afar.


    The flames in the skeleton¡¯s eye sockets flicked back up to road. Anditsmorningcontinuedlike any other, but that was the last morning it would spend likeany other.

 Chapter 1: The Old Dice Fall

    The World of Ordaos; long has its wars been waged since the times of the old gods, till now between free-cities, kingdoms and the few empires. So much so, that much history is lost¡ªforgotten to the mortals and the New Gods, but the God of Old remembers well.


    He was Darkness, and of all the Old Gods who left when they lost their little game of ¡®war¡¯, only he remained.


    Why?


    Not because he¡¯d won¡ªoh goodness, no¡ªDarkness was the first to lose in fact. But he still wished to watch the ongoings of Ordaos to see how it would change, rather than follow after his kin¡ªwherever the mad-bunch were.


    He¡¯d been watching and watching. Much had changed since the old times; it was a similar scene he¡¯d seen long, long ago with his own ilk, but now with the New Gods and on a much smaller scale.


    Long gone, were the fights between the mountain breaking titans. And now, were the fights of pigmy mortals and kingdoms.


    O¡¯ how he missed the titanic fights.


    The Old Gods, were born of the universe¡¯s chaotic creation. So their game was filled to the brim with chaos¡ªnothing was safe. It was for the ¡°hey of it¡±¡ªthey where bored, what else would they do?


    Make the mortals? No, that was an accident near the end of the old game; Death and Life having divine sex like that¡ªhonestly.


    The New Gods, were born and are sustained by mortal wishes, curses, dreams and nightmares. So of course, their game is filled with mass manipulation to get more followers. Their game was less the ¡°hey of it¡± and more for the ¡°I must have believers to sustain myself!¡± Ugh¡­ and their egos¡ªyikes¡­ just sickening.


    It may have changed much since his kinsmen were about, but now things seemed to have stagnated a bit. As an Old God¡ªa God of Chaos¡ªthis is far to boring; the same little fights being fought again, and again, bringing no real change to the world. The New Gods squabble over a small minor loss to their following¡ªhow petty.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    No more.


    He¡¯d sat on his throne of obsidian-black stone, observing for too long. And now he must stand.


    They all¡ªthe New Gods¡ªnoticed and looked to the empty throne and then to Darkness, who stood. ¡°Why now does it stand?¡± they whispered, ¡°Why now, does the Old-Thing move?¡±


    ¡°Thing?¡± How rude these young children are.


    Before they notice it, he was no longer by his throne. And all twisted round to find him standing at the game-table. The great world Ordaos, never is meant to have chess pieces on its surface.


    ¡°Dull.¡± He scowled and something formed, moulding from dark-particles in his hands:


    A twenty-sided dice.


    Yes, this is how it is meant to be.


    And the dice fell to the table.


    Thudding over the world, onto a certain dark city before stopping.


    ¡°Ah, just like old times.¡±


    An echoing chuckle came from Darkness. The New Gods looked over down at the dice to see a clean and crisp number¡­


    ¡­1¡­


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    By the gates of the Dark City¡­


    The undead skeleton stood going about its usual duty of starring into the darkness.


    Nothing changed, perhaps it would never change. It didn¡¯t care, it wasn¡¯t meant to care. It didn¡¯t question¡­ Why isn¡¯t aloud question?


    That¡¯s strange¡­ it never felt this before now. What changed in it? Many things. A lot of things.


    Like an explosion of thought, and emotion, things began to bubble and a swirl within its skull:


    Confusion¡­


    Anger¡­


    Fear¡­


    Sorrow¡­


    Regret¡­


    These are what the bones remembered well; the things felt before death.


    The skeleton shifted the flames in its eye-sockets downwards to see a perfect turd at its feet. Why was it so agitated by that?


    It recalled the Labrador of that morning. Such a pure innocent look it had in its eyes. Such pure thing. Such a pure thing shouldn¡¯t be in these dark lands, its to random.


    Now the skeleton felt something new. It mixed together with the other emotions to make a¡­


    ¡°N-n-nnnn¡±


    Pecker sat learning in his chair, picking his nose as always, looked over at the skeleton that had began to shake uncontrollably, before¡­


    ¡°NYAAAREEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!....¡± and then silence as Pecker starred at the skeleton at a loss of what to do. This never happened before.


    The skeleton just seemed to sway back and forth for a bit, just looking at the ground.


    ¡°W-What the fuck just happened?¡± He should probably go get someone.


    But before he could, the skeleton whipped its head up with flames now green and ran of into the darkness in search of a Labrador.

 Chapter 2: The Pride of Command

    In a small and orderly room... Within the Dark City of Ziligish¡­


    ¡°Wait¡­ Wait¡­ Calm down.¡± The Captain of the Ziligish City Guards, Gral, the gruff man sitting at a desk raised his hand to the young gate guard. ¡°So, yer telling me what!?¡±


    He would go slow this time, ¡°So I was outside on duty at the gates like normal¡­¡± Gral gestured for Pecker to continue.


    The young-man took a breath. ¡°Then the skeleton, out of nowhere, screamed and ran-off!¡­¡±


    The guard captain leaned back in his chair. ¡°That¡¯s never happened before.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Um¡­ Who made it?¡±


    ¡°Just some low-rank necromancer. No one special really.¡± The Captain¡¯s expression when he said the last part was one Pecker had seen before.


    He knew, but he just had to ask. ¡°The gremlins get him?¡±


    ¡°Ooh, yep.¡± Gral nodded before taking a sip of tea and went on. ¡°He was found naked in an alley, with an anise redder than the Crimson Star¡­¡± He pulled a strained expression. ¡°Poor bugger was so traumatised, to the point, we gave him to Ziligish Academy; at least he¡¯d die good use in an experiment, rather than as a gremlin¡¯s plaything.¡±


    (Gremlins: Their teeth made of metal; Eyes full of madness and mischief. Skins of many strange variety: blue, green, purple and etc¡­ Nasty little pointy-ear¡¯d twats. Their like chimpanzees that fell on their head as child and got shoved into a blender with, a party animal, a sex-addict, and a ¡®git.)


    The captain sighed and looked at the young-man, ¡°Anyway. I guess one loose skeleton couldn¡¯t cause much trouble, er?¡±


    ¡°A Garm, or a Barbedtooth will probably get it.¡±


    ¡°Yeh.¡± Gral sniffed, ¡°Now get back to the gates. I¡¯ll get another low-rank necromancer to make a new undead guard-buddy for yer. Oh, and tell yer mother I said: hi.¡±


    ¡°Eh...¡± He nearly forgot the Captain was interested in his mother ¡°Right... See you later, boss.¡± And with an awkward smile, Pecker, left for the gates.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Elsewhere... In plains wrapped in shadow... A certain-skeleton walked along in search of a Labrador.


    It had been walking a fear while and had time to ponder on some things. An example would be: what would it do when it found the Labrador, it really had no clue. All the skeleton knew was it needed to find the Labrador, no matter the cost; this was its own command, and it knew commands were an important thing to have. Whatever would it do without commands?


    The skeleton only gained the power to question its commands recently, and that had allowed it to change its commands from ¡®stand guard¡¯ to ¡®find Labrador¡¯. This is something the undead aren''t meant to do, but this undead had done¡ªsomething miraculous.


    There were also strange things whirling about its head now: Emotions. There was also a strange whispering voice. But for the time being those things did not matter to the skeleton, only the Labrador mattered. Such a strange anomaly in these harsh lands.


    ¡°Grrrarara!¡±


    The skeleton paused and looked about at its surroundings. It saw a hulking dog-like beast step into view. Its four fiery orange-eyes gazed down upon the skeleton.


    Oh dear... Wentthe whispering voice in the skeletons head.


    (Fuse a genetically altered Super-Pitbull with a Grizzly bear, and then have it mate with a Hellhound and you get: a Garm. Four hellish eyes. Two demonic-horns. And saliva that burns like fire.)


    What should the skeleton do? Its order is to find the Labrador, not this stupid bone crushing mutt.


    Hm, why¡¯s it drooling so much? Ah!... The skeleton in realization tightened its grip on the spear it carried. It needed some new commands¡ªof course the Labrador was its ultimate priority, but subcommands are necessary to the grand scheme of anything.


    So, the skeleton made a subcommand: ¡®Kill anything that tries to make us into a chew-toy!¡¯ A fine command indeed.


    The skeleton took a stance, its spear at the ready. The green-flames that are its eyes, both thinned into a line as if it was squinting.


    The Garm growled and hissed as it readied to pounce.


    A few moments passed they stared at the other, waiting for ¡®the first move¡¯.


    The whispering voice was silent in the skeleton¡¯s head, but when the beast twitched the voice shouted, ¡°NOW!¡± and the skeleton rushed forwards, sliding beneath as the Garm jumped over and then thrusted its spear upwards through the beast¡¯s chest, directly through the heart.


    "........!"


    And there the beast hung struggling in agony, before finally stopping and going limp. Burning blood dripped down the skeleton''s spear.


    The skeleton lifted the hulk of muscle and meat off to the side. It felt something strange in its chest, though there was nothing there it felt something of a phantom beat. It heard an echoing ¡®thump-da-bump¡¯ repeating in its skull.


    It took this fearsome beast down with a single thrust of its spear, and it was¡­ proud?


    Yes. The skeleton was proud.


    Incredible¡­The whisper said. Yes. The skeleton is incredible, isn¡¯t it.


    It felt¡­ happy about that.

 Chapter 3: Labrador...???

    In the darkness he laid. A prisoner, to the cursed spear that was imbedded in its chest; a prisoner to life itself.


    His scales like white marble stone. His eyes, more beautiful than gems, shined more beautifully than stars in an unspoiled sky. His teeth, claws and four horns, gleamed like reflective obsidian. His once beautiful feathered wings, torn and ripped.


    The old dragon wondered where his friend had gotten to.


    Throughout the thousand years they knew each-other, she¡¯d never once left his side for the three-hundred. He was glad she was going outside again¡ªit only took three-hundred years to convince her that he¡¯d be fine on his own.


    ¡­What is she doing? What sorts has she met? I wonder?... He couldn¡¯t help but worry a little.


    But for now, he could do little.


    So, he went to sleep and dreamed of flying above the clouds, again.


    __________


    The skeleton stepped through the dark landscape... Leaving only a trail of death behind it...


    It had been eight days since the skeleton had left its post at Ziligish¡¯s gates, in search of the Labrador.


    Its once white bones had been smeared with blood and dirt. Its spear was slick, and dripped crimson. In its burning green eyes focus shined.


    Many fearsome beasts had attacked it, none had survived. The fights were toilsome at first, yes, but as they went on, the voice in its head gave better directions and advise¡ªbut with every good thing, there was a price.


    ...Where¡¯s the Labrador?...


    ...Where¡¯s the Labrador?!...


    ...Maybe it¡¯s far from here?!...


    ...Maybe it¡¯s dead?!...


    ...Dead...


    ...DEAD...


    ...DEAD!...


    ¡­Maybe we¡¯re useless?...


    ...We are useless...


    ...USELESS!...


    ...USELESS... This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ...Useless...


    ...We¡¯re useless...


    It wanted the voice in its head to shut-up, very much. It had been getting louder and louder with time; the questions getting more depressing. Though it had point. Maybe the Labrador had gone to some place far-away or maybe it was-


    ...NO!...


    The skeleton wouldn¡¯t allow such things. It will refuse such things. The Labrador must be alive; ...It must be somewhere out here, in the dark~ ness~...... Huh?...


    The skeleton stopped and stared straight forwards to see something so incredibly out of place in this dark realm, that it was like a magnificent beacon.


    A Labrador.


    ¡°WooF!¡±


    The Labrador barked as it stared back at the skeleton.


    The skeleton fell to its knees. Something began falling from its eye sockets. It looked down and saw sparks of green upon the ground that still fell slowly from its sockets.


    What was this feeling it felt?


    Ah, yes, it knew. It was...


    ...Completion...


    It wasn¡¯t useless. The skeleton completed its task, and at that, it could only presumably grin and let presumable tears of green embers fall.


    But now a new problem had arisen from this. The skeleton gathered itself up, standing up as looked at the Labrador.


    ...What do... we do now!?...


    What to do? The Labrador was the only real thing giving it a purpose to this moment, but now what should the skeleton do?


    As the skeleton pondered on such things. The Labrador tilted its head with a curious mourn and trotted off.


    ¡­Ah! Wait for us!...


    The skeleton felt compelled to follow the Labrador. What else could it do? The Labrador¡¯s been its only real purpose for existence¡ªother than guarding the Dark City¡¯s gates, which this skeleton didn¡¯t want to do anymore; such a boring and changeless task, it never really did anything until the Labrador came along. It would also be a shame for such pure creature to die in these dark lands¡­ honestly, how did this dog survive?


    ¡­New command: follow and protect this Labrador!... Until, we find something better to do¡­


    And the skeleton followed after the Labrador. Surprisingly, nothing threatening attacked it and the Labrador continued, with the occasional game of catch the rib-bone, all along into dark woods¡­


    Some time passed¡­ nothing changed¡­


    The skeleton followed the Labrador passed another grim looking tree¡­ another¡­ and another¡­


    Until, at last, the two of them came affront a large cave entrance in the side of a great cliff face. The cave was wide enough for twenty men to walk side by side, and 20 metres tall.


    When the skeleton stared in, all it got back was a new feeling¡­


    Fear¡­


    Why?...


    Was it because of the powerful presence that dwelled within the cave?...


    No...


    It was because of something that slept within the powerful presence...


    Something different, but something similar to the skeleton...


    ...Unique...


    While the skeleton had searched for the Labrador, those long eight days, the voice in its head rambled. And from the voice¡¯s long ramblings, had come to know it, itself, was unique from other Undead.


    While all other Undead, thought only of following the commands given to them by others; this skeleton, had as the voice put it, woke up. Before felt like a long dream, but now it commanded itself¡ªwith the aid of the voice.


    What is that voice anyway, hmm?


    The skeleton, looked down at the Labrador.


    The Labrador looked up at the skeleton. They stared at each other for quite a while. The skeleton¡¯s green flames flickered as it stared into the Labrador''s soft, yet oddly intelligent eyes.


    ...Intelligent?...


    And then...


    ¡°Please, help him¡­¡± the Labrador spoke, before trotting into the cave.


    ¡­¡­What!? Don¡¯t go in!¡­ Even voice in its head knew it was unwise to enter.


    The skeleton, didn¡¯t understand. What did the Labrador mean? The skeleton¡¯s self-command was to protect the Labrador, not help whoever it desired¡­


    The skeleton, was its own damn master! It does, what itself commanded and no one else may command it!


    But its own command was to protect the Labrador, so...


    The skeleton, took a step forward¡­