The Fall of Sanaq

The smell of death wafted through Kyron’s nose. More Dolls were coming. He stopped and put on his helmet, grabbing his ax from his back. Doing so made him sicker than the scent. The moon lit up the kingdom of Sanaq, making the blood splatters glow. Whipping his head in every direction, he finally spotted the first one. It spotted him as well.

“Pleeaaaiiighshhe!”

It collapsed to all fours, its limbs a mass of writhing parts trying to bring it closer to its prey. Its flesh bore the black of night, shimmering red from exposed muscles and cakey blood. Dolls would’ve been sheathed in the camouflage of midnight if their eyes didn't shine so brightly in the lumen of the moon. Sunlight would be torture for all who laid eyes on a Doll. It’d be impossible to fight such a grotesque creature without vomiting from the sight. As it got closer his guts twisted ferociously. Through the rot and decay Kyron could see the human that used to be. This Doll was once a woman, and that woman used to own the best bakery in all the land. 

With a single arm he gripped his double ax tightly and swung it at her hip. She was cleaved entirely in half. It felt far too familiar. Kyron’s armor clanked as he knelt before her corpse. He bowed his head in a moment of silence. He wished he could remember. 

“Get away from her traitor!” 

Kyron shot upright to see who had yelled when something exploded against the back of his helmet. He spun his ax as he turned around and hit nothing.

Peering through the darkness behind him he saw a young man in tattered clothes.  He brandished a large slingshot with a small sheath attached to his hip. There was no sword in it. It’s a wonder Kyron missed him.

“There are survivors?”

The man’s body shook violently as he stared up at Kyron, struggling to load his weapon with another stone. Tears streamed down his red cheeks and dropped off his chin in a waterfall. 

“Why would you do this!?”

Kyron dropped his guard, dumbfounded.

"I did this?"

It was then he saw the small hole in the young man’s rib cage. The blood around the wound was ruby red and dry. He’d been stabbed for certain. If it caused him pain, he showed no signs. His face was wrought with disgust. Deja vu hung heavy in the air.

Gurgles and howls were springing into the night sky from the mouths of Dolls. Kyron looked around and saw four more slinking towards them. He turned back to the man. He had disappeared. There was no time to get emotional. After sheathing his emotions and his weapon, he took off through remains of the kingdom and headed towards the royal castle. Elizabeth would be there, he had no doubt. She was the end of the madness.

His metal boots bashed the road, carrying him all the way to the castle moats. The pride of marching amongst the mighty army of Sanaq across the magnificent oak drawbridge had not faded within his heart. It had been some time since Kyron had been to the masterpiece that was the kingdom of Sanaq. It no longer stood beautifully. The darkness was not thick enough to mask the destruction Elizabeth had wrought. The bridge had been desecrated. The giant mass of oak was blown off its hinges and the laid fallen, forever open to invaders. Kyron scanned the stone walls of the castle as he crossed over. The moonlight danced across the architecture, revealing char marks across the parts where a massive chain once held the wooden bridge to the mechanic crank. The use of sorcery was evident. Kyron drew his weapon once again as he ran underneath the final gate into the castle grounds. A hand slammed down onto his armor’s shoulder spike, stopping him in his tracks.

“Second Lieutenant Doone.”

Kyron turned, his eyes widening in shock.

“You are not alive.”

A warrior adorned in the same gleaming armor stood eye to eye with him, smiling softly. Directly in the center of his chest piece was a mess of flesh and broken pieces of metal warped into a  slash wound. Kyron knew many medals used to adorn that particular spot. The Captain of the Royal Army had earned many before his fall years ago.

“You’re free from the enchantment. I can see it in your eyes.”

The smile did not cease as his gaze bore into Kyron’s soul. A single tear slid down the side of the Captain's face. Kyron processed the moment, unable to form words. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this had already happened. The Captain’s body began to vanish slowly into the surrounding darkness. His form twinkled slightly in the white light of the night’s star. The sleeves of Kyron’s armor clinked softly as he clawed at his comrade to no avail. Nothing but air remained in his hands. 

“Wait, tell me what happened! What have I done!?”

Kyron’s question wandered with no one else there to answer him. Seeing his leader’s face after so long stirred his focus. The realization had finally struck him. Sanaq’s destruction was entirely his doing. Guilt dripped from his brain down his spinal cord, immobilizing him. The Captain’s words echoed through his mind. 

You’re free from the enchantment…

No.  It wasn’t entirely his doing. Someone had taken over his mind. There was only one person who could cast a spell so strong. 

Kyron bolted once more into the mouth of the castle grounds and allowed himself to be swallowed. While forging his path he surveyed the area, his heart softening slightly. Wooden dummies were perched all throughout the small field of shrubbery and dirt. The wind rustled their frames slightly, making them dance a jig reminiscent of the grass surrounding them. He was running through the training grounds. The memory alone of hundreds of his soldiers charging pieces of wood would forever bring a smile to his face. Kyron felt fortunate not to remember what he must’ve done to them. 

Afloat in the waves of nostalgia, Kyron’s nose failed to pick up the scent. A Doll was crouching behind one of the dummies. It launched itself and knocked Kyron to the ground, its limbs flailing all over. The Doll punctured his armor with its claws and tore a piece of it off, taking some flesh as well. The creaking of twisting metal rang through the field. He sucked in a breath and bore the pain. He righted himself and yanked the doll off of him, sending it flying and crashing to the ground. Kyron reached for his ax but it wasn’t in the sheathe. His eyes searched wildly until he caught sight of the hefty weapon, squashing the grass and framing itself. He dove and shot his arm out  for the handle just as the Doll regained its awkward footing and started lumbering towards him. He made sure his grip was firm before he stood and heard the Doll’s battle cry.

“Raarrwwwrh!”

Kyron retook his fighting stance and swung his ax. That’s when he noticed the Doll had a gaping stab wound. The empty sword sheath and the expression frozen in fear made him recognize the young man he’d seen earlier. Elizabeth had his soul. Kyron was his killer. His warrior instincts escaped him as he froze mid swing. 

The Doll’s facial features crumpled into a form of surprise. His charge stopped at the same time. His jaws unhinged and he began to hiss words.

“Pleeeaaiissee, eeend meeee!”

Kyron was overtaken with awe. He sheathed the ax.

“If I end Elizabeth’s spellwork I can free your soul. If you are that conscious there is no need for you to die.”

This was the first time he’d seen a Doll so still. His broken limbs hung limp as his face contorted in contemplation.

“HHiioowww?”

“The source of this magic is tied to her heart.” Kyron bit his lip and looked to the moon.

“I will cease its beating.”

He looked back down through the darkness for the Awakened Doll and found no one. Perhaps it was another apparition. Kyron held tightly to his courage. His psyche may be breaking but it was of no concern. He had found his will to be a hero once again. That could never shatter. He turned back towards the royal castle and ran once again. 

He reached the door to the royal chambers. Huffing and heaving air into his lungs he stopped for a moment to assess himself and instantly heard it. The footsteps of the approaching Dolls were loud as war drums in the night. He couldn’t hear his own heart beating against his ribcage. They would not rest. Nor would he. Kyron allowed the wind to wash over his armored body once more before he faced the door and splintered it in one kick. Swiftly his steps padded the stone floor to the king’s chamber. It took every bit of breath to not lose composure. It wasn’t about him. This time it was about Elizabeth alone. 

Blackness poured in from the holes in the roofing, but the moon was still bright enough to be Kyron’s spotlight. Boulders and chunks of ceiling lie strewn through the room covered in a sticky red. Limbs littered the floor, but they were not like that of Dolls. Kyron squatted further down to examine the bodies. The half crushed head of a woman caught his eye. The fear etched into her eyes in her final moments had remained with her corpse. Her white and gold attire shined against her pale skin where it wasn't soaked in gore. Those scattered around were dressed similarly. These were the robes of the king’s maids. They were never turned. Kyron resheathed his weapon and slowly removed his helmet. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, thankful at least that their bodies were able to rest in peace. His stomach caved in as his resolve began to crumble. Now was not the time.

“They would forgive me. This is enough.”

The entire room began to crawl to life as a deep purple glow pulsated down the walls and through the rugs. A laugh sang its way into the air. Kyron sprang back up, barely managing to catch his heart in his throat as he gulped deeply. It was her.

“It’s been quite some time, Kyron Doone. How I’ve missed the sight of you.”

Elizabeth levitated down out of the darkness stuck to the ceiling, emanating an ethereal glow that resembled the finest of jewels. The colors crawling across the room began to creep up Kyron’s armor, lighting up the silver in a violet fire. Her magic had invaded his body. His muscles spasmed and rattled the plating of his armor as he fought viciously to move his arms or legs. Her spell was much too powerful. Fighting his way here had sapped his energy. Elizabeth’s voice was swooning as it sauntered through his head and around the room.

“Are you trying to be a hero now? How noble. My heart is swelling.”

Kyron was engulfed in rage.

“I know what you did to me, I’ve come to end this sickness!” 

Elizabeth floated inches away from Kyron’s face, pulsing purple.

“And yet… it seems your mind has become rather sturdy in your time of isolation. My enchantment hasn’t been working on you tonight.”

“My will is now too strong for you to have my mind a second time. My duty will be fulfilled.”

“Here I thought traumatizing you would weaken you. It’s only made you stronger! What a heartthrob.”

As long as Kyron was restrained by her magic, he couldn’t reach for his ax. She was within reach, the end of the mission. The bringer of redemption. 

“The soul of a man with so much might shouldn’t go to waste. That is why you were chosen. Surrender yourself to me. You’re much too handsome to turn into a Doll.”

“Never!”

“So be it Mr. Hero.”

Elizabeth planted a soft kiss on Kyron’s cheek and floated backwards away from him.

“It seems I’ll have to-”

The smell of death greeted Kyron once again before he heard them. The group of bodies thrashing and piling into the room sounded like an avalanche. They surrounded Kyron and Elizabeth. He closed his eyes, suddenly stilled by an otherworldly sense of peace. If he died at their hands, it would only be fair. Kyron fully surrendered himself, knowing he did his best. He had not lost his courage. At least Sanaq’s hero had returned.

Before he felt any armor torn off or flesh bitten into, Elizabeth shredded her own vocal chords screaming. Kyron opened his eyes to see a Doll attach itself to her mid air and bite into her face, gnawing at her jaw tendons. Another leapt onto her and she lost control of her magic, crashing to the ground. More and more Dolls swarmed around Kyron and ripped into her flesh, flecking blood through the darkness.

The purple glow receded from his armor and the night reclaimed the lighting. Elizabeth had gone silent. Flexing his fingers, Kyron watched the Dolls begin to fizzle and dissipate into wisps of smoke. 

“Thhhiiiaaankk Yiiouu.”

The Awakened Doll from the training grounds stood behind him. Like the rest of the townspeople, his body was free of the dark magic. His soul was returning to rest.

Kyron fell to his knees, ignoring the pain from his wound as his body hit the stone from exaushtionm.

“Thiiiss… enoiiiughh.”

The young man’s body puffed out of existence. Kyron knelt alone in the darkness. His gaze rested upon Elizabeth’s massacre. Her heart lay torn from her body. He managed to find solace in the fact that it hadn’t been by his hand. Revenge was not his motivation. The Captain’s words flashed once more through Kyron’s mind. A smile grew on his visage, radiating in the blackness surrounding him. A single tear slid down his cheek. 

“Thank you.”