The sound of steel striking steel reverberated through the air. Midaharian and Ahrmanian opposing forces clashed against the backdrop of rolling hills. They were a few hundred strong on either side. Neither was willing to concede.

In their never-ending conquest for world domination, this was just one of the many skirmishes currently unfolding between the two dynasties. Both possess numerous runes to aid in their pursuit.

For the Midaharians they were far from home, fighting on unclaimed land. Located less than seventy miles below the Ahrmanian border, the uninhabited stretch of territory would put the Midaharian army as close to their enemy’s doorsteps as they have ever been. It would also cut the Ahrmanian forces off from a strategic supply route.

It was a brazen move the Ahrmanian Empire hadn’t expected but was quick to intercept.

Swords locked. Shields bashed. Armor sliced. As the battle raged on, both sides suffered casualties. The Midaharian soldiers fared better in terms of losses, quickly gaining the advantage. However, they soon realized that their fallen enemies just wouldn’t stay down.

Their eyes were as empty as the sky overhead. The dead rose to their feet, their mortal wounds still drenched with blood. The Ahrmanians were not the only ones with new life. The Midaharians they had struck down were alive as well. They raised their blades at their former comrades.

And just like that, the tables had turned.

A member of the empire’s royal guard observed the action from the top of a nearby watchtower. Square at the base, the cylinder-shaped structure was composed of large blocks of stone. It was enclosed with smaller stones around its peak. On the outside, it was impossible to know how many were inside. But standing over thirteen feet off the ground, the tower was an easy target.

The female royal guard was accompanied by two other soldiers. In their light, button-down jackets and matching pants, these weaponless soldiers were more like observers.

She stood with one hand on her waist, parting the gap in her leather, olive-colored dress coat. Much of her amber-colored hair sat on top of her head in a tightly wrapped bun. She hated how much of it flew in her face during combat. Cutting it shorter was not an option.

Leaving her hair down would at least cover the paleness of her cheeks. Since she started using the rune to raise the dead, she’s noticed a lack of color in her complexion. An apparent side effect to using the Rebirth of Necro, though no one would believe her.

“How far did you think you were going to get?!” she yelled in the direction of the battle. She folded her arms and frowned. “No one can hear me anyway. How long until Sisten gets here?”

“It shouldn’t take much longer, madam Tasha,” one of the soldiers answered.

“Wish he’d hurry up,” Tasha said, staring at her glowing right hand. The image of a skeleton pulsated in her palm. “I hate using this thing. I wonder if he wants to trade.”

“Madam Tasha,” the second soldier called, his focus in a pair of field goggles. “An enemy general just showed up!”

“Which one?”

“The younger one, Idris.”

Tasha rolled her eyes and sighed. “It would have to be him. Still fighting on the wrong side.” She threw her left hand over her shoulder. “My sword and shield, please.”

***

A mix of both nations, Idris was one of two generals that weren’t weighed down by heavy armor. The small metal rings of his mail and steel and reinforced leather were enough to do the job.

Idris ran toward the battlefield, picking up a short sword and a lance along the way. He spotted an ally being overpowered by the undead. He hurled the lance, piercing the skull of one fallen soldier.

With uncanny speed, he moved in on another and struck it in the head with the short sword. The weapon was stuck in the undead soldier, but it kept advancing. Idris ducked its attack, losing a few strands of his flared top to the undead soldier’s blade.

As he flipped backward, Idris swiped the undead soldier in the face with his boot. Another Midaharian soldier knocked the undead enemy to the ground with his round shield. He finished it off with a sword through the skull.

Idris grabbed his ally’s steel collar and flung him back. He quickly raised a shield, blocking Tasha’s jagged blade. Her sword was imbued with a force that enhanced its strength. She spun around and followed up with another strike. And another, denting the shield with each impact.

As she pressed forward, Idris deflected each of Tasha’s attacks with precise timing. Her sword swallowed up all the energy of the recent dead, stealing their renewed life.

Tasha’s next strike split the shield down the middle. Idris lept backward, avoiding being struck down. He regained his footing in time to dodge the lance of an enemy soldier.

Idris snatched the lance from the soldier and ran it through the soldier. He then used the soldier to shield Tasha’s attack. Idris forced the lance free with his boot, sending the soldier falling backward on Tasha.

Tasha shoved the soldier aside. “Quick question,” she said, wiping the soldier’s blood from her cheeks. “Would you be interested in switching runes?

Idris tapped the lance on his shoulder. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“I swear this thing is ruining my life. People tell me I’m as white as snow now. I can’t even get tanned anymore.”

“Well, if it’s doing all of that to you, just imagine what it’s going to do to me.”

“I don’t know why I even asked. I must have been desperate. All I have to do is rip that Rebirth out of your bloody corpse!”

Tasha charged toward Idris. He executed a spin kick, knocking her to the grass. Tasha quickly rolled out of the path of his lance. She regained her footing in time to block Idris’ attack with her small shield.

Tasha sliced the lance handle in half with her weapon. She rushed forward, hitting nothing but air as Idris dodge her sword. Frustrated, she turned to a couple of fallen Midaharian soldiers. “Get your butts up and help me!”

The soldiers pushed their bodies off the ground. They grabbed their weapons and lurched forward. “Why don’t you stick to raising your own dead?” asked Idris.

“If it bothers you so much, you can always surrender,” Tasha smirked. “And give me that Rebirth!”

Idris kicked the blade end of a broken lance at Tasha. She deflected it with her shield, continuing her charge.

From the safe distance of the stone watchtower, Sisten monitored the battle with the two other soldiers. He passed the field goggles to one of them. “I think she’s handling herself fine without me. Is he the only enemy general on the battlefield?”

“So far, sir Sisten,” a soldier replied.

“They usually travel in pairs,” Sisten noted, walking down the tower’s narrow spiral staircase.

“We’ve been anticipating another to show up at any time, sir,” the accompanying soldier said.

“Do either of you have a map?”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier said. He sprinted back up the stairs and grabbed a rolled-up map laying in a corner of the tower.

The soldier caught up with Sisten as he exited the tower. “Here you are, sir,” he said, handing over the map.

Sisten unrolled the map and looked it over. “Are there any guards in the tower west of here?” Sisten asked.

“The west tower..?” the soldier paused. “Right. That tower isn’t operational right now.”

Sisten rolled the map back up and handed it to the soldier. “Then, that’s a ‘no’?”

“Uh, right sir.”

“Might as well let the enemy walk right through Thesda,” Sisten muttered, mounting a Belgian Black stallion.

“Sir, there are armed soldiers along the outer walls of Thesda,” the soldier said. “If the enemy dared to rush the city, we’d see them coming.”

“I’m heading over to the west tower. Fire a signal if another general shows up here before I get back.”

“Of course, sir,” the soldier said. With his back straight, the soldier raised his index and middle finger to the brim of his breton hat as Sisten rode off.