"Good morning, Sunshine" A hazy, yet angelically soothingly melodic voice said, her words coming to his ears like a light breeze on a warm day. She was underneath the vast canopy of her mothers most closely guarded secret within her garden. Her father once told her she knew she wouldn't survive the birth, so she planted this tree on a private hillside in her garden, for her daughter, the princess. Now here she sat, her curly brown hair swaying in the gentle breeze, her caramel fingers racking through the wavy locks of light brown connected to the top of a head that was neatly placed on her lap, while her other laid plainly in the equally billowy green meadow beneath the pair. The overhanging shadow of the great tree overhead the pair covered them completely from the radiant sun above, though it did shine through small gaps in the ever swaying branches of the magnificent tree. Just like her and the rest of the world, the man's hair was blowing in the wind as he groggily opened his eyes from his nap. The singing laugh that left her smiling face seemed to wake him up fully as he jolted up from a passive position. From that spot, she noticed the single scar that marred his neck up, right where his hair stopped at the base of his neck. That would forever remind him of his mortality.
The red plated armor that covered his body was quickly completed as he scrambled to grab the wayward helmet and in no time at all, the face she had grown so fond of was gone once again. Blades of grass flew up into the air, and were carried away while dancing in the whispering winds as the Princesses' eyes shifted from their light pink to a quickly dimming blue, but quickly suppressed the sadness and replaced it with the mischievousness that he had likely grown accustomed to; shown in her eyes bleeding into that vibrant yellow that were so common it was as if those were the color eyes she was born with. Her wide grin as the knight stumbles to get back to his feet. He had faced creatures beyond creation, even sung songs to a creature that had been marred by an insanity lasting longer than half of this continent's evolution, yet a wrathful king was something he did not want to experience.
Standing tall, he grabbed the spear that had been lodged deep into the soil near the pair, yet not a single speck of earth followed the blade of the spear. Staring down at the princess, he sighed and asked, "How long have I… been out of commission?" He chose his words with a selectiveness he rarely did previously; it was one of the many things he had inherited from his mother, yet this was one he himself had wished he had not had.
She giggled lightly into her dainty palm again at her obviously flustered knight she had been caressing with great affection not moments prior, "Not long, chosen one" Her laughter, which had quieted in her attempt to respond to her knight, roarer back to life, greater than it had been in the moments before she spoke. She knew he hated that name. Anyone of the four semi-finalists could've won the Longinus, he was just the lucky one that had done it–even though he really shouldn't have.
An even greater sigh wisped from his mouth as he stared down at the woman who was now tossing and turning on the soft grass that had been the pair's sanctuary for many years since their first encounter.
"Rolling around on the ground is something unbefitting from one of your stature, my lady" He drawled, but in response, she only stuck her tongue out at her bodyguard.
"You're so stiff, relax a little, when you're underneath this tree, you're part of my family, Den, which means–you're under mothers protection here, for she watches from the tree, she is my protection here, not you" She was catching her breath now after the laughing fit she had been in, which gave the knight a glimpse of time to respond to her comment.
"Then why am I here? You said you don't need me, as your mother supposedly protects you here, so why do you need me–a humble commoner–to ruin your mother-daughter time?" He asked, not expecting an answer, but surprised when her eyes shifted to their original color, the chocolate brown that he loved with all his being, not that he could do anything with that feeling.
"My sweet knight–I want you here, I don't need you here. Many other princes and princesses of lands far off cherish their vast treasures of gold and silver, but I am different, you're my treasure–and only under this tree and mothers watchful eye can I express that to you" Even though her voice was neutral, her eyes betrayed her, flakes of pink arrived in her pools of brown–it was an odd mix, but that's when he knew. He knew what he needed to do.
Unlike the Queens tree–which likely held not a single spirit within its great size and even greater age–this tree in front of him wasn't even a tree; it is a fresh corpse. It hurt. The only thing that held his glossy eyes from releasing the tears he so desperately wished to shed was the simple fact that these were not mortals anymore, which the first murderer had told the knight. Though he wished so dearly to blame this on him, this was not the work of that abominable tome, as he knew its work better than most others. Sighing, the knight backed away from the innards of the person turned plant and pivoted on his feet, before deciding to sprint until the forest ended; this place was whispering. The humans may have survived, but they do not live, not anymore. With every terrible step taken in his sprint, the forest screamed, the blood spattered onto neighboring foliage into all directions, painting trunks, double layering the grass, and staining itself onto the knight, yet he continued. As they moaned in pain, the knight was numb. He couldn't feel his hands, and the world seemed to have muted slightly in recognition of his mental war. These were people, and that hurt more than any fall could. Since he was shut out from the world, he lacked the mental preparation when he slammed right into a tree trunk with all the weight of the great necromancer now a corpse itself. Splinters of wood scattered, blood exploded, and chunks of the former human's innards sprayed like a hot jet of water in all directions, but since he was mentally checked out, he simply continued his stride, running, running, and more running. He ignored the clicks of the behemoth centipedes hiding in the branches of the disfigured humans by steamrolling through the forest like a willowing forest fire of power. He trucked, and trucked until a glimpse of a moment passed, and he was pulled back into reality, but it was too late to stop now.
In front of the knight was a vast clearing, but the knight was more focused on the single jutting stone rectangle that was right in his line of passage. The numbness had faded; instantly giving way to a wave of nauseous aching throughout the knight's body from the constant colliding forces. There was no doubt that he would've bruised if not for the strange invigoration from The Guidance. He wasn't given a moment's rest as at his pace, it took not even a moment to reach the center of the vast clearing from the treeline, but unlike the statutory people, with limbs swaying in the wind, when he crashed into the cold marble block he didn't go through it.
A simple boom of sound erupted throughout the forest as he went face first into the indestructible stone, filling the chillingly silent forest full, before falling into the discomfort once again. Blood dribbled down the visor of his helmet as he slid down the side of the marble, and fell backward onto his back, a shiver running throughout his entire body. He had not been terribly wounded, but he could feel a dent or two slightly grazing his skin beneath the armor and his nose feeling rather flat and slightly off to the side. Nothing he hadn't felt before.
With a groan of annoyance, the knight peeled himself off the bloody flora and on slightly shaky legs, emerged to his full height again. Across his already crimson armor, a thick layer of blood spilled off his body with various chunks of human remains following it like a human soup. Just thinking of that made the knight shiver again, but then, he paused, as a question flew through his mind.
'Why does it not smell of gore?' He thought, the confusion in his inner voice twisted his face to match that confusion behind the helmet. He shook it off, though. There was no reason to pay it mind, just thank the powers above that it didn't. He turned to face the tree line he had run into the clearing from, and gaped a little bit at the trench he had created not just in the trees themselves, but also in the soil beneath it. Beams of line were breaking through the red shelter and piercing down into the forest, illuminating his long sprint even further. However, he froze at a tremble that rumbled from the forest around him. Red was beading up and sweating off the side of the jungle and being absorbed by the earth beneath it. Something was different; something was watching. The knight's eyes darted about in a frenzy, trying to find the source of the great disturbance, yet he could not manage, as nothing was out there. Nothing was physically watching him. It was quiet. He expected to see something, it didn't matter what it was–it could've been a single one of those oversized bugs, but not even one of those could be heard throughout the forest. It was… tranquil, which gave way into even louder warning bells.
'This forest… theres something strange that lurks in it, did it cause this community of humans to turn into these rotten trees, or did it simple stumble here after the genocide?' There was something here. Something that a great leviathan of the dunes couldn't beat, which opened a whole other can of worms, but that wasn't something worth wasting time to think about, a tsunami was coming, and the knight didn't think he was ready for it. He unconsciously, thumbed his palm, allowing the sheathed weapon to appear in his grasp, and mechanically attached it back to his waist. A humming was heard, not from the distant forest, but from directly behind him. He twisted, and jumped backward, sword already in hand pointed toward the uncarved column of marble. What he saw disturbed him: a doorway had been carved in the marble in the short time he had faced away from it, leading directly to an inky black staircase going down into an impenetrable abyss of shadows, lit only by a single floating candle that was soon to run completely out of wax. The feeling of dread the doorway exuded was unlike anything he had faced. The subtle control weaved in it was imperceivable, yet astoundingly present in every moment following its appearance. Its hungry gaze bore into the knight with more ferocity than a rabid dog, while being infinitely more refined intellectually than said rabid dog. Then, the humming continued. It was a mellow tune that rang from the depths of the darkness, seeming to invite the knight to the underground lair beneath, something he was hesitant to accept. Back peddling, he was going to take off in the same direction he had entered this forest from, but something pulled him back. The darkness was laughing at him, he could almost see it grinning in anticipation, while his mind started to fog. His mind slowed nearly to a halt. Trying to grasp onto his thoughts that were slipping through fingers, until he could barely remember anything.
He took a mechanical step forward toward the corridor, then another, and another, until he arrived at the top of the staircase, right in front of the floating candle illuminating the bloody walls. Though the knight's thoughts were fleeting, he did notice the thick layers of red on the walls that seemed more like mud than any type of blood. It fell down in large droplets along the side of the walls, accumulating on the stairs, staining and building up on the stairs in a vomit-inducing scene. The knight shook his head violently, getting rid of the growing cobwebs in his mind, which he had manually swept away. With a clear and alert conscience again, he found that the feeling was almost like he was being put to sleep, something that was trying to get a hold of him as soon as he shook it off, though he managed to ward it off well enough. With the darkness spectating, he took a deep breath, and at the same time took the first step onto the grungy steps, to the thing that was calling him from beyond the veil of iniquitous darkness, towards the harmonic hum of the slumbering giant.