Red hues soared through the sky. The sounds of wildlife silent. Small waves pped up against the tree roots and muddy banks that peppered the swamp. Purple streaks painted the sky, covered up by the sparse heap of clouds here and there. The horizon burned brighter with each passing second, lighting up the world anew.

  And a new world it was.

  Calypso held her daughter tight as the young woman struggled to breath. Azandrae’s breaths were fast paced and shallow. Her skin was filled with bck veins. Az couldn’t speak, but Calypso hoped she could still hear.

  Calypso pushed her white dreads from her face, “When ya were born, the world changed for me forever. Little things brought so much more joy to me. A cup of tea, tilling the garden, cooking, all of it was better now, because I had someone special to share it with. I never once thought things would go this way. I thought I had paid enough anguish in the past that I could finally live with joy for my future. For a moment, I did.” She stroked her daughter’s hair and kissed her head.

  She began to weep, “And now, it will all be gone, for both of us. I don’t know what ya did to come all this way. I just hoped that ya would stay safe, but we both know that would have never happened. Ya too much like me. If there is anything I can do, anything at all.” She gasped as she felt a faint squeeze on her hand.

  Az’s bckened eyes were looking up into her mother’s. She used all her strength to push through the poison, “I d..don’t…regret…a…thing.” A struggled half-smile crept across her face.

  Calypso watched as her daughter exhaled one st time. Her eyes gzed over with a milky white before her head fell forward, dangling there lifeless. Calypso couldn’t breathe. She grabbed her daughter and held her tight as the sun began to crest over the horizon, casting a warming light across the two.

  Tears streaked down her face, “Why? Why Samdei? Why can’t you take me instead! No mother should have to bury her daughter!”

  Something trudged through the mud behind her, its footsteps getting closer. She didn’t care if they were here to murder her. There was nothing left for them to take. The footsteps were accompanied by the jingle of chainmail and scraping of metal, and silence.

  Calypso looked back at the figure approaching. A rge bck armor-cd knight stood there, gazing out of his skull mask with milky white eyes. A rge hole was ripped through his breastpte. His skin was grey and lifeless, with a massive scar in the middle of his torso.

  His voice was deep and scratchy, ominous but somehow calming, “I will spare you my past then, so you won’t have to.”

  His arms slid under Calypso’s as he lifted Az out of her mother’s arms and held her tenderly in his gauntlets. He turned to the sunrise, stopping for a moment to take in the wonder he had only seen a few occasions in several hundred years. The light hit him, filling his body with warmth that radiated deep into his soul. Something awoke inside him. Visions of a woman and a child pying in a field of wildflowers, the sun shining down on them. The vision faded before he knew what he was seeing.

  He gnced down at the woman in his arms and then over to her mother. He gave a nod to Calypso and turned, marching off into the swamp, heading north. His boots spping down in the mud, slowly fading away. The grass, weeds, wildflowers, brush, and trees started to wilt, finally finding an end. Bugs dropped from their nests. Everything was quiet as the Death Knight made his way home.

  Calypso watched the st image of her daughter disappear behind the trees and into the brush. She looked back at the sunrise, closing her eyes as the sun warmed her body. Her bones ached and her muscles felt tired. For once in a very long time, she felt alive. Peace filled her mind as she knew her daughter’s story was not yet over. She would have an important part to py in the grand scheme of the cosmos. Whoever that Knight was, he had given her another chance at life.

  She opened her eyes, peace throughout her whole being. Things would get back to normal. Things would be alright for them. Small green sprouts emerged from the dead pnts around her. The world was healing. Everything would be fine.

  …

  Massive bck chains cnked together as the drawbridge smmed down on the earth below, smashing up a massive cloud of dust. The sm echoed throughout the mountains and into the countryside. The sunlight crept into the Bck Ziggurat’s entrance, barely permeating the darkness inside. Bck hooded monks lined either side of the entrance, chanting with bck lips while they burned incense, hailing the champion’s victorious return home.

  Rigor slowly marched inside, looking at neither side of the welcoming party, but only straight ahead, wasting no time on his way deep inside the ziggurat to the central chambers. His boots cpped down on bck stone. Behind him, the chains rattled again as the drawbridge rose, slowly blotting out all the light the world had to offer.

  He stepped up to Death’s Sanctuary, the head Death Monk, Morbos was waiting for him, arms held high in the air. Empty sarcophagi lined the impossibly high walls, all the way up they rose until vision failed him. A massive skull sat in the middle of the room, its mouth open, somehow it seemed joyful now, its face twisted into a smile.

  “Returned our champion has, the Bringer of Death, accomplished is his task, and proud is He that rules over death!” Morbos csped his emaciated hands together, his flesh all but skin and bones. “And he has brought another into the fold, one deemed worthy by our lord Death and his champion! Bring a sarcophagi, one of great worth, for it has been ages since another chosen has been marked. We will treat this one with reverence and respect.” His boney hand gestured to the sarcophagi that the monks lowered from high up the massive room.

  Rigor marched over to the sarcophagi and gently pced the woman inside, watching while the monks made funeral rights for her, preparing her for her transformation. His milky eyes never left her. The one who fought so hard for her family. The images of the woman and child fshed before Rigor’s eyes. A life past perhaps? Was it his life? Were they his own family? Maybe that is why he spared her life?

  Maybe it was Necroth guiding his hand in unseen ways, either way, she was a noble person who deserved a better life. This was the best he could do for her.

  “Come, come, Death Knight, Rigor Mortis, Champion of Death, Necroth awaits your trophy.” Morbos tugged at Rigor’s armor, pulling him towards the massive skull, hobbling along the bck stone floor.

  Rigor stood his ground and watched as the sarcophagi closed over her face, sealing her inside. He knew not if he would ever see her again, but hoped she showed as much courage and strength in the afterlife as she did in her mortal one.

  He finally gave in to the priest’s demands and marched to the skull. He looked down the massive pit inside its mouth; An endless void. He pulled the bag from his belt, yanking out the head of the Bone Doctor. Terror still spread across his face, the same look as when Rigor separated his head from his body.

  The head felt heavy in his hands. He had seen first-hand what this heathen had done to the people of this world, turning to dark magics and dreadful depravities. With the Bone Doctor gone, this part of the world could finally heal.

  Rigor shouted, holding the head high, “The head of the Bone Doctor, for Death, for honor, and for Necroth!” He tossed the head into the mouth and watched as it tumbled through the air, disappearing into the bck void.

  Morbos smiled wider now, his bck lips cracking, “You have done well, Rigor Mortis, and now you will be rewarded. Accept your prize.” He quickly shuffled aside; his heart filled with glee.

  Rigor looked up into the skull’s eyes, and held his arms out, awaiting his dues. Purple light emanated from deep in the skull’s mouth, bursting out in a great inferno, encasing the Death Knight in purple fmes.

  Morbos watched in reverent wonder as purple shadows danced around the room. The st Death Knight was indeed a powerful servant to Necroth. Pride swelled in his chest. Things were going to change on this pnet. Death would make this world his once again.

  The purple fire subsided and Rigor stood unfazed from the fmes. His armor was restored now. Every dent and nick, every lost chain link repced, all brand new. His flesh was made whole again. Along with his refurbished armor, was a network of bones that covered his bck metal. He flexed his hands, watching as bones shot forth from his knuckles, sharp enough to gut his enemies.

  He had been granted a new power from his master. A rare and powerful gift indeed.

  “Your next task has been foretold!” Morbos stepped in front of him, gncing at the skull, nodding in agreement before turning back to Rigor. “You must march west, to the wild nds. There awaits your next mark. The all-powerful Thunderbird protects all life under his wings, even the life long past its due. This must end for death to make its way across the nd. Now, go forth, Rigor Mortis, and make our lord proud.”

  Rigor grabbed his axe, brandishing it in his hands, twisting the haft between his palms. He was ready.

  The west would soon fear death.

  *Please donate to my PAtreon! Thanks for reading the book! I hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned in for Rigor Mortis 2!