The Carnival of the Damned

Even though the once raging storm overhead had long ago dissolved into a gentle drizzle, the two armies continued in a ferocious collision against each other. Luferius led his men in the battle of death and decay, neither side daring give in lest the castle and the prize of the throne be lost to them for an eternity.

The captain let out a snarl of fury at the necromancer as Mortis' horn had caught the back of the captain's shoulder blade, leaving a deep cut across the tearing muscle. He trembled, struggling to keep upright as his foe reared back with a victorious yell; eyes a glimmering poison in the chaotic madness of his revelry.

"It's nearly over now! Finally! Y-You fool! You've practically handed me all of the kingdom on a silver platter!" He traded another set of blows with the guard, all the while not letting go of the insane laughter that had consumed him whole. The bones of the dead army rattled with its own silent chuckle, a few brittle pieces snapping off as the guards looked on in confusion.

Something was amiss. Something was changing.

The opposing army still kept attacking, bones swinging wildly in every attempt to crush the guards that bore the royal crest. Still, it was clearly seen that a newer weakness had begun to spread through it's near countless ranks. The bones aged rapidly even in their various states of decay; detaching from joints as they swung before rolling to a harmless stop on the ground below.

The necromancer's soldiers were falling apart right before his widening eyes!

His expression changed rapidly, going from glee and smug triumph to confusion, realization, and strongest of all... fear.

Luferius took note of this, leveling a grin of his own at the weakened enemy.

"Where is your merriment now? Where is your power, Mortis?" He taunted, advancing slowly as the lich backed away in a panicked bewilderment.

"N-No! This isn't possible!" His eyes darted to and fro as he grasped for any plausible explanation for his army's imminent downfall. Already the last remaining skeletal minions were falling apart completely, one toppling over next to it's master. Mortis' eye caught sight of it then.

"The blood...."

A single red drop hit the ground before dissolving into a small rose petal. He seethed, teeth clenched tight as Luferius drew closer to continue his mockery.

"It seems to me that your 'silver platter' was nothing more than cheap pewter after all." The other guards had begun to circle, closing in on the lone enemy. "Surrender now or perish."

'Perish'...

This word struck a cord, causing a small flicker of hope to ignite as Mortis looked up to the captain.

"Perish? Me...one that has more immortality than any of you could hope to attain...perish?!" He cackled, even as the last skeleton became still within it's eternal death. "Oh, it's not over. Not yet. Not by a long shot." He glanced over the various faces of the royal guards, noting each as he judged the spaces between them. "If I am to die, by all means I will do so..." The cackling became manic, the mind of the lich beginning to unravel as he saw a wider area between the closer guards and their captain. "BUT I AM TAKING YOUR PRECIOUS FLOWER WITH ME!"

Without a single added thought, he lunged for the space. Though caught off guard, Luferius reacted quickly and slashed the side of the enemy as he barreled past; turning to the widened gazes of his fellow guards.

"Stop him! Do not allow him to escape!"

Mortis continued to run, the guards on his sides thrusting and swinging their horns forward to bar his path.

"Tch." The necromancer sneered at the pathetic attempts, thought a few of the well aimed attacks pierced his throat and tore at his shoulders. Still he continued to flee, knowing nothing of pain as he willed his legs past the natural limits of the living.

Luferius watched from a nearby hill, cursing as his men began to fall behind. "Fire! Do not hold back! That is an order!" He nodded to the unicorns before racing to cut off the foe from the other side. The captain's command still hung in the air as bolts of magic were leveled against the retreating figure, ground flying up under his hooves as his body became riddled with the result of the powerful spells.

The lich was looking ever more as his nature would suggest; much of the decayed flesh having been torn away as bone and organs lay exposed under the remnants of the cadaverous torso. All this yet he continued to press on, stumbling as a few magical beams fell close enough to seer the tattered skin and singe the mane. A loose bone from the dead army tripped it's once mighty commander, an eye falling from the jarring impact of the earth below as he struggled to continue.

The necromancer, the lich Mortis; now more skeletal and haggard than his minions had been, got back to his rattling hooves as he leveled a one-eyed glare at the troops far behind him. A low hiss echoed hauntingly from his torn throat before he vanished entirely into the thickness of the Dead Forest.

The guards started forward in an even more panicked pursuit, lest they lose sight in the winding trees.

"At ease, troops!" The stallions paused in unison, looking back and forth at each other before turning their confusion in a questioning glance to Luferius.

The captain's gaze was still fully trained on the last place where the necromancer stood, the forest's darkness impenetrable beyond that point.

"We need not continue past this point. He is a goner. Did you not see it? The magic is gone from him" He shook his head, closing his eyes as he remembered the glare of Mortis in all too vivid recollection. "Fear was in his eye. He'll be no more than dust soon enough...

...and he knows it."

...

The shadows of the Dead Forest encroached upon the fleeing necromancer as his brittle limbs began to snap from the loss of his power. Where his magic could once have easily mended the torn flesh and repaired even the worst of such injuries; all that remained now when solely toward the vital task of simply holding all that was left in one piece.

His foreleg snapped, and he tumbled to a decaying pile on the forest floor.

"...N-no...the blood....Rose..." Each word a curse in it's own right as the remaining eye echoed the venomous hatred. A far off tune sounded in the shadowy distance, arresting his attention as he looked for the source.

In the darkness of the overhanging trees, the figure of Fayt could just be seen. The glow from the playing music box bathed his features in it's light as the bandaged gaze turned in his direction.

"F-Fayt...it is you, my friend." The sound was guttural, a hollow shadow of a voice as he attempted to crawl closer to the fortune teller's seat. "S-Something...something has happened. We must return...the graveyard! The rose...the blood!"

Fayt casually stood, stretching as he leaped down from the overhanging tree branch to land before Mortis. He glanced down at the remnants of the stallion, the thing that once was known by the name of Mortis before shaking his head at the pathetic state. Fayt clucked his tongue in disapproval as the eerie music played on.

"Such a shame. What a pity and a waste." He slowly sauntered, circling the ground as the necromancer attempted a laugh. The sound was hideous, a whimpering plea from one already dead.

"C-come now...h-hurry. I can fix this...I can reign...p-power...I just need..." He reached a rotting hoof toward the music box in Fayt's grasp, yet the pale stallion just grinned.

"Mortis Noctem Grimm... such a greedy one. Even in your life, you wished only for power. I truly thought that your will would have been strong enough to serve my purpose. Ah, but no matter. Your work is done, and I have no more use for you." He stepped away from the pile of bones and began to fade as the necromancer watched in horror.

"N-No! I-I can finish...please...one more chance...Fayt! FAYT!"

The music box dropped from the vanished fortune teller's grasp, the weakened device shattering on impact like fragile glass. Instantly the green light dimmed, the music slowing in the broken phylactery until all was silent and only dust remained of Mortis.

...