Whispers of a Dead Empire

I sat at my desk, tinkering with a new bow design. After some thought, I decided that I would keep the current one for lower-tier mobs because of cost constraints and being a little more sparse with my new swords. I tweaked the current design I was working with and twisted the limbs outwards slightly like a recurve bow while reducing the size a little. Once I was happy with how it looked, I confirmed my choice and typed in the name.

Nice, it was a start. I dismissed the screen and set the bow to the side, along with the other weapons, and sat back into my chair and cast a gaze over the boss’s weapons. I hope they like them. Next, I’ll have to craft the armor, but I’m not in the mood for that anymore.

I sat back in my chair and stared at my cement-clad ceiling, and slowly released a pent-up breath. My head throbbed, and the light seemed unnaturally bright. I pinched the bridge of my nose and just relished in the silence for the time being.

There was no one here but me. Kharon was busy. Alessia was training the honor guard, and for once, it was just quiet. The only sound was that of my breath and my beating heart. I just sat there and enjoyed the silence until baleful thoughts worked their way in.

I missed Earth, and I missed my home. I wish I took the time to talk to my parents more after I left. Even with knowing that we really didn’t get along all that well, they were still family. They must be worried sick about me right now. What a daughter I was. Just vanishing in the middle of the night and not even telling them where I was going. Just another tick on the box labeled reasons that my parents are disappointed in me.

A dry cackle filled my ears as I sat up and opened my eyes. Calixa, always the disappointment. Refusing to go to college, ending up in the back of the house at a restaurant. I can still see my mom’s vibrant green eyes glare at me in disappointment whenever I think about my days after high school. Or my dad’s storm grey eyes as they glared at me in anger as I packed my bags and got ready to leave. Oh, how I still remember the words they hissed at me when I told them I wasn't going to college.

They told me I would end up washed up and drugged out in a back alley somewhere, amongst other hurtful things. I know that they only wanted what was best for me, but I needed to find my path if I wanted to be happy. Which I did; thankfully, me telling them I was on the path of becoming a chef really helped dampen their ire towards me, but I know that isn't quite what they had in mind for me.

I would miss them, even if they made me angry. I wiped away the warm trails of liquid that fell down my cheek and stared at the weapons that lay scattered across my office space. I’ll make it back home, I’ll do my best, and maybe then you will be proud of me. I reached out and grabbed the weapons that I created for my bosses. I will make it home, that much I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes, but I will come home as someone you can be proud of.

I pushed away my thoughts and grabbed Heart Piercer. My first stop was Rikard. He was the captain of the undead legion that guarded this stronghold, and I wanted to outfit him first. I activated my teleport with a gesture, and the world warped around me as the skill worked its magic.

A few quick seconds later appeared behind him. He was standing on a far wall and was staring out into the forest. The sun was on the horizon and cast its grey light out across the forest. Fog hugged the trees, and guttural moans radiated from the dying woods. Was it bad that I was slowly starting to get used to it? “Greetings Captain.” The zombie turned its head and gazed at me for a moment, and gave me a curt nod. His milky white eyes were as lifeless as ever before, staring back off into the forest beyond. The bosses were odd. They were clearly intelligent, yet they lacked life. It was as if they were living on autopilot. I gazed at him for a moment longer before I extended Heart Piercer out towards him.

I guess if I am going to roleplay an Empress, I should get into character then. “Captain Rikard Levian, take a knee.” I attempted to drop my voice a few octaves, though it sounded pitiful to my ears. I would have to work on that in private. The zombie, however, didn’t seem to care too much and did as I commanded it. Rikard dropped to one knee and bowed his head before me.

The act of submission caused a fluttering in my stomach, which was something I wasn’t expecting. I bit back my excitement. Now I had to hand this sword off to him, but I had no clue how. I was loath to admit that I did not know how to do it with etiquette. In that case, I would make my own. I grasped the handle of the sword and the top sheathed blade and extended it outwards towards the captain of my first legion. I spent a little more essence on leather, but it was worth it. “Captain Rikard Levian. Take this as your oath of office. For you are the blade of the Empire and commander of my legion.”

The zombie looked up at me and reached out and took the blade from me with his good hand and studied it for a moment, and a prompt appeared on my screen, followed by a strange pulse of grey energy that shot out in all directions, and a slew of notifications appeared.

I raised my eyebrow at that and confirmed it, and skimmed through the new page.

Ah! Well, at least I don’t have to worry about stuff getting taken out if it’s going to respawn. However, it’s going to cost me. I changed the weapon drop rate as low as I could get it, which was one percent, dismissed the screen, and then looked through the next notification.

A future trait? I don’t remember seeing anything for that on my domain page. I quickly shot Kharon a message, inquiring about domain traits, before I closed the screen and looked over at the captain of the legion.

“As befitting of your office, I will have armor crafted for you.”

The captain nodded his head yet remained on one knee. I stared at him for a time as I decided on what armor I would make for him. I wanted something nimble yet could take a few hits, but that was something for later, I suppose. I gotta run these errands and stop getting sidetracked. “Captain Rikard, you may stand. Continue to serve me well.” With that, I glanced at my map and teleported towards Aaron to give him his gear next.

Aaron was in the stronghold's courtyard, surrounded by a few of the undead, and was currently in the middle of about with a zombie that was almost twice his size. The zombie rushed forward attempting to grab the skeleton in a bear hug, though Aaron was far more nimble. He shot past the zombie’s grasp and jumped into the air. His leg lit up with bright orange energy as his heel shot towards the zombie’s skull to deliver a punishing blow. Sadly, however, the zombie's head didn’t stand a chance, and its head exploded from the impact, splattering the ground with blackened, coagulated blood. Well, at least he was training. However, I would prefer if he left the troops alone. I would have said alive, but I don’t think that would have fit the occasion, considering they were undead.

I brought up my screen and gestured with my hand to consume the zombie's corpse and with the congealed blood that splattered the ground. When the adventures got here, I would tolerate a messy area to an extent, but in the meantime, I demand that it stay clean. As the corpse slowly vanished, Aaron caught my eye and walked over to me.

“Lieutenant Flint, take a knee.” The skeleton froze for a moment before he dropped to a knee. I unslung my bag and pulled out the pair of gloves I made for him. If I had known he would be using his feet, I would have made some stuff. For that as well. But I should have expected as much.

Once I pulled the gloves from the bag, I extended them towards him. “Lieutenant Flint, take these as your weapons to serve your legion and your empress.” I have to say pretending to be a ruler was fun.

The skeleton reached out and took the gloves, and stared at them for a moment. Just like Kharon, I couldn’t tell what the skeleton was feeling, and I was definitively not an expert in skeletal body language. He mashed his teeth together, filling the area with rhythmic clacking. Though what he was trying to say was beyond me. He seemed like he was the most lively of the bunch. I would even go as far as to say he was close to becoming sapient, yet I was unsure.

“You may rise, lieutenant.” I didn’t want to pretend to understand what he was trying to say. Maybe I should talk to Kharon and see what he says about it. I didn’t want to be rude and brush off someone who was actually trying to communicate with me.

The skeleton bobbed its head and looked at the gloves strangely for a moment before he slid his boney fingers into them. His bones lit up with soft orange light, and he stepped back and delivered a set of blistering fast punches that cut the air. Even though he was nowhere near close to hitting me, small gusts of air that hammered into my flesh still rocked me.

I raised my eyebrows as I watched him move about, practicing his kicks and punches. They all were unique. Aaron here was the most animated of the bunch, talked a lot, and seemed dedicated to his training. Kharon was helpful and seemed happiest when he was helping me. Rikard was quiet and stoic, though it was a little hard to pinpoint how the captain truly was. Alessia seemed severe and wholly dedicated to her job. I stepped back and teleported to my office and grabbed the last set of weapons for my bodyguard. I wonder what she would think of them.