“Any sign of the mists lifting?”

Impatiently, a man adjusts the golden staff strapped to his back and goes back to tapping at his reigns in impatience, urging his horse to trod forward in the direction of the Border village, where Priest Lox and the Sparrow Regiment awaited him.

“Still as thick as ever, fellow seeker of Light.”

The clear scrying crystal in the pouch at his side gave the muffled response.

The High Priest would not be pleased.

Glancing behind him, the man scowls at the group behind him, prodding his horse forward before they could catch up.

Dun. Dun. Dun.

Dust swirls in the air behind him, the feet of 300 slaves dragging in the rough dirt road causing a cloud of dust that heralded them long before their arrival. The slaves outnumbered the Mioldri Empire soldiers borrowed for this expedition 7:1.

Behind the slaves trundled the simple carriage that carried the High Priest. All the fun he experienced before was like a dream now. The difficulties he experienced now keeping up with the High Priest’s demands changed everything.

He spoke to the crystal again.

“Any new signs of the raven?”

"Regretfully, no."

“Then have you been able to send in the knights stationed there yet?”

“No.”

The Emperor grant him patience. Though he was of the less-devout sort, the priest sends a prayer up towards the bright sun in the sky. The High Priest was going to humiliate him again tonight.

“It’s been impossible to send in any new knights. We won’t be able to create a Opening to confirm the situation in the Wildlands, so long as the mists continue.”

“Fine. Contact me if news comes”

The light of the scrying crystal dims, growing silent once more. Facing forward, he scoffs again. That hateful carriage was slowing everything down. Not efficient at all. Someday soon it would be him in that carriage, not that doddering old fool.

It was the High Priest who insisted the accompanying priests and soldiers all travel by horseback, except for himself, who traveled in a simple, but well-furnished carriage pulled by a team of 4 white horses.

Priest Anpiel knew it wasn’t to save time. The shortened travel time spent riding horseback was funneled towards stops at every village along the way. Each night was spent drinking with the village elder of every town they passed.

The only saving grace in this situation was the ease with which the slaves followed every order.

When it came to slaves, there was no need for an excessive number of drivers. The red gems winking in the burning sunlight attested to that fact. With the threat of a quick and horrible death looming over their heads, the slaves had become much easier to handle.

Though it did help that Priest Anpiel had permission to give them a clear example of what was to happen if any of them were to attempt an escape: a controlled explosion in a large field upon a dissident slave had done the trick.

This was another gift from the great Emperor, as well as a testament to his rumored ability in perceiving the future. After all, how else did the Venerable One know to provide one extra slave collar more than the 300?

The power their god Emperor wielded boggled his mind. A small voice jolts him out of his reverie.

“Priest Anpiel? When will you be arriving at the Border?”

“In a week’s time.”

It felt so long ago since he’d been enjoying the latest Offering and partaking in a glass of wine, his own personal gladiator fight playing out before him..

Except it wasn’t.

No one knew, that outside of the Wildlands, only 2 days had passed since that fight. And within the two days, no matter how many times he tried setting off the slaves’ bombs, the slaves’ magic contracts did not disappear.

Sighing, the priest clicks his horse forward again, waving at the older soldiers to force the motley assortment of slaves to quicken their pace. Not one slave expresses their distress, though their feet were ripped to shreds by the unyielding pace set for them. Though the roads were sprinkled red with the blood they shed as they continued to march, forced to pull the slaves that could no longer walk, they marched forward.

Many of the slaves had been headed to the mines, which made them much hardier than the sort used for common household labor. They were a beastly sort, made up of humans, mixed-race beings, and some dwarves deemed useless at their craft, whatever the reason.

And he’d been lucky to even score a few gladiators in the mix too. The gladiators were the brightest-eyed of the entire 300, marching at the front of the group. They were made up of brawny human men, a Newt-kin, and a few Mutts (Human-beast mixed breeds).

They'll do.

Priest Lox sighs, staring at his own blue crystal, wishing he could speed up time. He had his own dilemma to deal with here. A Golden-Eyed Aquila, the Emperor’s messenger had come, bearing a much darker blue crystal. The shock of receiving the famed messenger in his own left the priest unable to appreciate the true beauty of the large bird before him. Sharp eyes glared at him, willing him to quickly take the package attached to it’s leg. It was said that wherever it flew, gold dust scattered from between it’s feathers, leaving the Emperor’s Blessing with it.

He’d hoped to unveil the message when the High Priest and Priest Anpiel arrived..

Taking another deep breath, he carefully sets the indigo-hued crystal upon the specially crafted velvet and gold-trimmed tray created for just this purpose. This wasn’t something he should be doing. He was Priest Lox, Border village priest and farmer on the side.

It had never occurred to him that there would come a day when the Aranei-Silk gloves issued for this very purpose would be used.

After all, his father, and his father’s father, had never received that honor.

With his hands covered in the brand new gloves, the Priest raises his trembling thin arms above his head, the tray faced up high towards the sun, and steps towards the opened door of his humble temple.

Outside was the Border village square and market, where the people gathered to do their business and socialize. Most of the shops were now cramped in a small corner of the hardened dirt square, the rest taken up by the new soldiers who’d come in and set up their camp there.

The moment he steps out the door, the tray in his be-gloved hands, the square falls silent.

“A message from the our Glorious Light!”

With as large and booming a voice he could muster, Priest Lox continues forward, to the front of the square. Though his voice came out sounding like he was choking to death, the village people came forward, staring in awe at the tray in his hands.

At his words, every soldier immediately kneels, paying respect to their King and Emperor. The off-duty soldiers in the square had dropped everything to kneel. Meals lay forgotten, shined boots dropped to the muddied ground, dirtied laundry laying forgotten. One even knelt in a small wood bucket, soap suds sliding off his bare back.

“Mama, what is that?”

A small child asks, large eyes looking up to his mother. When the outraged stares of the village people practically pierce into her, the mother slaps her child’s hands away from tugging at her skirts, shushing him and bringing him forwards towards the front.

“It is a message from our Light. Listen well to the voice of our Savior.”

She whispers in the child’s ear, trying to appease him from crying at her sudden slap.

From within the small crystal there emitted a light. A cleverly rigged set of mirrors reflected the light of the crystal upon itself until it reached the rippled face of the largest mirror, the golden glow growing brighter and brighter until it was impossible to gaze at for an extended period of time.

Not that anyone did. Though some did glance from time to time at the living, breathing handsome image of the God Emperor’s visage before them, most of the villagers knelt, some with tears streaming down their cheeks at the precious sight.

A direct message from the Emperor himself was something far beyond the usual paintings of him that they had in their homes.

The blinding light of the crystal shapes itself into the smiling face of the golden-haired Emperor, his hands reaching out towards them as if he wished to touch them.

“I, The True Lone God of the Mioldri Empire extend my greetings to you, beloved children. I hope that you have been well, thinking of me as much as I do of you all.”

Spreading his arms wide, the Emperor looks towards each villager, as if he were seeking out their eyes and speaking to the individual alone.

“The Empire flourishes with your efforts. It is because of you, children of the Border, that the Empire itself remains safe. Safe from the monstrous creatures that haunt the lands beyond, safe by the marvelous herbs you harvest here by putting your own lives on the balance.

And the Empire is forever grateful.”

Many a shoulders droop when they feel his gaze leaving them. Even from within the crystal the magnetism their Emperor excluded left the villagers with the urge to throw themselves towards the blue crystal. Tell the Emperor how good he was. How benevolent he was.

For a moment, his heavy presence seems to dissipate, and the smile disappears, the bright joy in his eyes fading somewhat as it was replaced by a deep sadness. The shimmering lights of the indigo crystal itself dims, reflecting the image of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Yet it saddens me to bring you terrible news…A raven has been sighted within the Wildlands.”

Faces in the crowd leech of color, as pale as the white mists that circled the mysterious, frightening unknown that lurked outside their town.

Pale faced mothers clasped their children close to their breasts, while the men glanced at each other with a tight, withdrawn looks, their eyes sunken in with a dimming light.

Priest Lox himself shivers, remembering the moment he himself had heard the news. It had taken him a long time to accept huge implications the sighting would carry. A Raven would bring death. Death to them all.

“Thankfully, no ravens have been sighted within our beautiful Empire. As of yet. The priests and soldiers are only the beginning in our ceaseless efforts to protect you all.

Sent here to carry out my Will are the Sparrow Regiment, currently stationed with you all. With the combined efforts of my precious people, of soldier and townspeople coming together, we shall overcome this blight.”

At the mention of their regiment, the soldiers sit up straighter, chests puffed out in pride at the trust placed in them by their God. The Emperor’s voice rises in authority, the heartbeats of the people listening to his message rising in a feverish hope.

“Together, we will be the sword that cuts through the mantle of darkness!!”

Entranced by the total belief the Emperor showed in their success in hunting down the raven, the townspeople stand. With their hands clasped in praying gestures, their bow deeply towards their Emperor, tears streaming down their faces at their god’s benevolence.

“Together!”

“And lastly, for my beloved children, the High Priests brings Elixirs. Enough for the all of you, lest you be engulfed in the same Shroud that stole the lives of many of our precious people at the dawn of the Empire.”

Now this was unexpected. From his kneeling position, Priest Lox's eyes widen at the sudden news. Elixirs were expensive. They cost at least 6 months worth of salary of a common layman. The Emperor was benevolent, to have prepared Elixirs for the entire town. Did that include the soldiers too?

Priest Lox glances towards the kneeling soldiers, but the sight of his townspeople blubbering in relief distract him.

It had become a taboo to speak of the Shroud, let alone mention it. There was not a life the Shroud’s reach didn’t touch. Many had lost precious family members to the terrible sickness.

The crystal fades out, releasing a shower of golden light that floats over the enchanted assembly.

"Blessings for all, by the grace of our beloved Light" Priest Lox stands and calls out over the frozen people. The crystal was now dim, the image of the Emperor faded from the mirror.

It took him a long time to bless the villagers there, as well as the soldiers. Instead of the usual blessing for luck, the people all asked for protection. Priest Lox did the best he could, raising his staff high and enveloping each person who came before him in a life with a dim golden glow. The soldiers followed.

When the long line finally ends, the sun had begun its descent.

Back at the window of his room, the Golden-Eyed Aquila waited for him to return the precious crystal. The entire time, goosebumps stayed frozen on his arms while Priest Lox handled the crystal. He was too old for this. The magnificence of the Emperor himself was too much to handle. He missed the occasional inspections, the small groups that visited the Border, entered the Wildlands, and left as swiftly as they came.

It had been years since the last raven sighting. And it had been far, far off in the reaches of a neighboring kingdom.

Once the crystal was safely secured, nestled back in the golden bird’s pack, the priest watches grimly as the bird takes off, trilling a long call before it flies in the direction of the setting sun.

The mists needed to open soon, so that the raven could be taken care of.

A water-proof leather pack. Water skin. Dried meats and rolls of bread. A roll of bedding. Gathering his pack once more, Priest Lox prepares for another night in the watchtower with the soldiers.

When he finally returns to the plaza, the soldiers were gone, off on another training exercise.

Bang!

A loud roar of approval reaches the square from far-off the training field.

He shook his head at their enthusiasm.

Today, it was the clay plates it seemed. One man would throw a thin clay plate in the air, painted black, and another man would fire an arrow.

They’d taken bird-hunting methods and systemized it to improve their skill.

A small girl runs into his legs, beaming up at him in a gap toothed grin.

“Greetings, Priest Lox! You gonna go to the watchtower?”

Noticing the pack on his back, her longing is evident. The watchtower was forbidden territory. No child would ever go up there, unless they became a soldier one day.

“Yes.”

Seeing the two other children lying down behind her, Priest Lox pinches her nose.

“Are you playing that terrible game again?”

“Yes. It’s fun!”

Another child calls out, bending his knees before taking a leap over the giggling toddler laying flat on the dirt.

“Look! I can jump higher now!”

They were singing an ancient children’s song, sung since the foundations of the Empire were first laid by the Emperor himself. Priest Lox feels shivers rise on his spine at the sight.

Why had he thought it so harmless before!?

Before he loses his composure, he shakes off the little girls hand and begins to walk quickly towards the gate that led to that outskirts of the town.

“Priest Lox! Wait!!”

Ignoring the calls of the children, he pulls the lapels of his simple white priest’s tunic closer to his body.

The song still echoes in his ears, the catchy tune in direct opposition of the dark lyrics.

With each verse the children sang, they jump over their partner, who lies flat on the ground.

Black feathers whisper soft.

Grey shroud descend below.

With the speed at which his frail body walked, his white priest’s robe only hinder his footsteps.

That song…

Ravens were the harbingers of the Grey Shroud. Where they appeared, death followed. No one knew how the Grey Shroud came to be. Only that death came in the wake of the dark creatures. The weaker humans were driven to insanity, the grey pallor of the Shroud marking them as dead men walking. The ones stronger in mind…they would eventually lose their sanity too, slowly becoming trapped in their own bodies as their bodies turned grey and silent, like carved stone.

Worst of all…

In the Mioldri Empire, death was not the end. They would return to Lights, serving the Light of the Emperor, helping the Priests and Knights battle the darkness that threatened their Empire. It was even said that those with great achievements in lives, after death, could be reborn once again, called forth by the Emperor to serve the Empire once more.

But if a raven appeared…

Their Light would be stolen.

Behind him, the children continue their song.

Black Wings flutter above.

Grey Shroud settles below.

Black eyes shine so bright.

Grey Shroud vanish below.

...And all off to the Lady we go.