The Monarch

Chapter 11

After a few days, Alex and his brother, Mark, returned to the campsite with carts of cut lumber and an intricate series of plans. What Mark, the one who designed the plans, was hoping to accomplish with this project was a series of treehouses connected together with strong rope bridges. In total, Mark had planned to build four houses. In the center was the main house, focused on defense and liveability. Surrounding the main house would be three small lookouts that would serve as the first line of defense if we were ever attacked.

Because we were rangers, the fees for the project were paid using my ranger's card. Any and all expenses would be paid for using the nation's bank.

Mark started building the project on his first visit. He brought a small team of builders with him, along with more than a few expert climbers to assist with hauling the equipment to the desired height in the trees.

After a week of loud bangs and constant planning with Mark and Alex, the project was complete. I was surprised they had finished in just a week, but Mark assured me the house was as stable as possible. He had used as many iron fittings to connect it safely to the base tree and the other rope bridges.

After the project had been built, Alex made sure the house was furnished properly and had chosen to talk to me about it just a few minutes after Mark reported that he had finished.

When we had decided on all the details, it was time to go to the village again. I had the others stay behind to continue with their patrols and get familiarized with the treehouse. I left for the village along with Mark and Alex. The path back was shorter than I remembered and not nearly as windy. We arrived back at the village within an hour of walking.

When we arrived, the village was full of energy and excitement. The markets were full of wandering shoppers and dozens of stalls. Near the houses were groups of playing children, who were happily dirtying themselves in puddles of mud, all the while annoying their watching parents.

"What happened?" I asked Alex, "The village wasn't nearly this busy when I saw it last."

Alex turned to me, then looked at me with a confused face. He shrugged as if expecting that I would know already.

"Isn't it obvious?" Alex asked, "We shared the funds using on your treehouse and shared it with the village. The capitol paid us more than enough to have dozens of festivals every day for a year!"

Alex laughed happily, covering his belly, which I now noticed was considerably thicker than I had seen before, "We've been feasting every day since our money came in!"

"You were paid that much?" I asked in disbelief. Alex nodded, patting his belly once more.

"Of course!" Alex nodded, "The capitol was very generous with the amount of money they sent. I must say, having a ranger as a village resident has paid off enormously! But come, we have business to do!"

Alex brought me around the village, specifically to the various woodworkers. Most of them were old, grey-haired villagers who showed their experience with the wear of their hands and the style of their various creations. Most of the woodworkers greeted Alex with respect and dignity. Each of them recognized him before they recognized me, despite the shining ranger's badge pinned to my cloak. As we visited each shop, Alex encouraged me to explore the different options and custom builds while Alex privately conversed with the woodworker.

After a while, it became obvious that Alex had already shown me each woodworker that lived in the village. However, we hadn't made any purchases yet. Alex's impatience started to show. He started to become more curious about the different types of furniture I was thinking to purchase.

Although, I was more curious about the woodworker's attitudes toward Alex. While we were eating lunch at a busy cafe, I took the opportunity to ask him.

"Hey Alex," I started, setting down a forkful of my golden toasted omelet, "I have a question,"

"Yeah?" Alex asked, his voice muffled through a full mouth of food. He coughed a bit, slamming his fist into his chest as he swallowed his food, "What's your question?" he continued as he finished swallowing.

"It's about the woodworkers earlier," I said, twirling the few vegetables that had fallen out of my omelet with my fork, "Why were they treating you like that? With respect, I mean,"

"Isn't that normal?" Alex asked, "All of those woodworkers are merchants at their core. It makes sense that they treated potential customers with respect."

"No," I groaned. Alex didn't quite get my point, "I mean, why did they treat you with more respect than actually expected? I was there as well, but they didn't even notice me until they were done talking to you! It's weird! Aren't you a carpenter? A type of woodworker?"

"Technically, yes," Alex admitted, "I am. I see where you're going here," Alex shrugged, "but they probably didn't start talking to you until they were done talking to me, maybe out of respect for me?"

"It seems fishy," I whispered, my eyes narrowing. My instincts were telling me something was definitely off. Alex wiped his brow with a nearby towel, then smiled at me with a forced expression.

"Come, we have more business to discuss! We still have to finalize your purchases today!" Alex exclaimed, quickly cleaning up his plate. He stood up from the table, ending the conversation there at the same moment.

After a long discussion with several different woodworkers, I eventually caved into Alex's peer pressure and decided to purchase more than a few pieces of furniture. I found myself traveling back to the treehouse with a full wagon of gifts. Alex thought I would need a horse to bring it back, but I assured him I could push it myself.

He was pleasantly surprised when I started to push it down the trail, similar to a child playing with their toy wagon. Except for this time I was pushing a wagon nearly 100x my own weight. As I walked away, I heard him mumble "rangers sure are impressive," under his breath.

When I arrived back at the treehouse an hour later, the sun had already started to set. I heard the others laughing in the main house, directly above me. I sighed, looking up at them.

"Help me out with this!" I yelled up. A light flickered, and then Josh's head poked out the window.

A few days later, our patrols started to begin for real. We made sure to have at least one person patrolling directly outside of the laboratory and another two patrolling around the forest. The last person would patrol the village and make sure nothing bad was happening there. After a few hours of patrol, we reconvened at the house for dinner around dusk. Then, we spent the last few hours of the night training. When we went to bed, each person would take watches on the north watchtower, looking out toward the laboratory.

This went on for several months, with nothing happening in between, before something interesting happened.

Dr. Isil's patience was growing thin. His experiments and research had come to a halt several weeks before, and now he was infuriatingly close to his goal. He spent nearly every waking hour trying to solve his problem, locked up in his laboratory or library. At night, he would have nightmares.

Sometimes he would dream about his village again, surrounded by poverty and death. It reminded him of his past. Dr. Isil grew up in a rural village several hundred leagues east. His mother, whose name he had already forgotten, abandoned him when he was seven. He lived on the streets as a thief and criminal, always dodging the law to survive. Dr. Isil often had nightmares about his time on the streets, but his dreams always ended in the same way his dark childhood did.

When he was twelve, Isil was visited by a rich merchant that went by Richard Darke, cousin to another rich merchant. Mr. Darke took an immediate interest in Isil (after Isil failed to pickpocket the merchant), and picked him up from the streets. Mr. Darke was a strange man, who had a bushy beard and dead, emotionless, eyes. Mr. Darke taught Isil in all matters of education and etiquette. Mr. Darke was a noble, and he had a wide range of experience in these fields.

Along with Mr. Darke, Isil was also taught by a dark elf tutor named Lucy. Lucy was very intelligent and showed her skills through constant study and research. She had dozens of scientific awards given to her from scholars throughout the various fields of science. Lucy's career was long over, but she worked for Mr. Darke because of a long-lost favor.

She proved to be a more capable teacher than Mr. Darke. Within a few months, Mr. Darke started to rely on Lucy to take complete care of Isil. Then, Mr. Darke died of a severe illness one winter night, despite having some of the best doctors money could buy. Lucy left the estate with Isil, bringing almost all of Mr. Darke's money with them. Mr. Darke's long-lost cousin, Joseph, inherited the estate itself.

Soon, Isil returned to the life of poverty he had just escaped from. This time, however, he had somebody with him. Lucy, in the last few years of her elderly life, taught Isil everything she knew about science and logic. Isil's mind was like a sponge, easily taking in all of the sudden information.

A year later, Isil applied for Aeirdonia's largest and most prestigious college, Brunich university. He got in, of course, using the knowledge he was given to him by Lucy. His progress through the college was impressive and all the professors noticed it. They started to praise him in the halls, or rely on him for important tasks meant only for ambassadors.

Halfway through college, disaster struck. It was sudden and surprising, but devastating. A fellow student, whom Isil never found the identity of, lashed out at him. That student, along with an unknown amount of followers, burned down Isil's dormitory building. The act killed nearly forty students. A couple of visitors, including lucy, also died in the tragedy.

Isil was accused of the incident and was then announced guilty in front of a jury of thirty and an audience of several thousand.

Isil was scheduled for execution a week later, but he had a dream that night. Isil never remembered much of the dream, but it was always on the front page of his mind, constantly making itself known. Isil described it as 'life-changing, 'hideous', and 'divine'

Through that dream, some kind of pact was made with a powerful being, and Isil started to gain the ability to cast every magic known to man.

His everlasting goal, to gain revenge on the university and discover the identity of Lucy's killer.

He smiled, facing his room of secret weapons.

Almost half a year into our assignment, activity near the laboratory started to increase. The first event was reported by Josh, who had noticed a slight rumbling near all the entrances. Surprisingly, most of the dirt had been removed from the entrances. More dirt was removed on the entrance facing the village than any other entrance facing the other directions. The second event was reported by Rose, who noticed crows start to fly in and out of the laboratory's entrances. Some crows seemed to fly directly through the dirt as if it was just an illusion. After the first crow was spotted, seeing crows started to become a daily sight.

The third event, which I spotted myself, happened during my nightly watch one Friday evening. I stood on the overlook facing the laboratory. The night was calm and boring, with only the stars to entertain me. Then, from through the lining of trees, a small light became visible near the laboratory entrance. The light remained for a moment, then it started to flicker brighter. It moved closer to me, then up. Another light appeared behind it. Then another one. Five lights, fifteen.

"Wake up!" I yelled out running to the main house. I quickly grabbed my short swords, gripping them tightly as I kicked my companions awake. Josh shot up instantly, taking no hesitation to run for his weapon. As usual, he slept in his gear and made it look comfortable. He shot me a look of understanding, then started to slid down the tree's rope ladder. Constantin took a moment longer, but he spent longer than rose to actually get up. Rose followed suit while Constantin put his gear on.

"Get down there, hurry!" I yelled as I ran back to the lookout. I could see Josh and Rose run to the laboratory without being told. It was as if they sensed something wrong. I looked up, toward the laboratory, then understood why. There were too many torches to count now. They overtook the crater. Some of them had started to burn the nearby trees.

"Nevermind!" I turned back, "Constantin, evacuate the villagers, now!"

Constantin looked to the laboratory, his complexion turning pale within moments. He nodded, then disappeared in a blink of light. I groaned in anger, turning back to the laboratory. How had this become so sudden?

I took a few steps back, preparing my arms. I fixed my longswords to my forearms, wrapping the hilts around my wrists with vines. The blades followed my bone structure, reaching toward my elbows.

Then, I started to run. When I reached the end of the lookout, I quickly jumped off the edge. Without a moment's thought, I used the vines on my arms to extend branches to swing across the trees. I quickly caught up with Josh and Rose, who had both started to reach the torches.

"What are they?" I asked as I landed. Josh pulled out his longsword, then heavily swung it in front of him. Six torch bearers fell to the ground, sliced in two. When their bodies reached the soil below them, the fallen torches illuminated their skin. Rotten and old, their bones poked out of nearly every joint. Their stomachs were open, leaving a foul stench in the air. Their brains were like open bowls, empty for everything but the residue.

Undead.

"Josh," I gasped, "Your sword isn't made of silver,"

"I know," Josh groaned, watching the six undead start to writhe back into one. Josh turned to the horde already surrounding us, "There isn't any way out of this."

"Was this really meant for rank Bs?" I asked no one in particular, "This is extremely difficult,"

"I can't fight them either," Rose muttered, "Constantin was the only one with light magic. Where is he?"

"I sent him to the village to evacuate the villagers," I muttered back, "He won't be back for a while."

"What do we do?" Josh asked. The undead started to move closer to us. Josh and Rose fought a few, pushing back the few who opposed us.

"Fight back for as long as we can. We can't stop their numbers or the forests' destruction," I said, "Our only hope lies in the laboratory."

"Why?" Josh asked through exasperated grunts, "What's so important there?"

"If we kill the necromancer who rose this undead," I explained, "There's a chance they can be killed by normal means."