As they walked towards what Kanu viewed as endless sand Hassian spoke more of how he came to arrive but Kanu had no interest in that. He was instead interested in the white eyed child. The way Hassian had spoken there had to be more of the children. Why did the child seem so dangerous? Why did Hassian not speak? Kanu did not trust Hassian but he reluctantly trusted the voice, and Hassian had been the one to greet him with violence.

“Who was the child,” Kanu asked after some time.

“I suppose I should tell you what you witnessed.”

Hassian didn’t speak immediately, he was lost in thought wondering how to tell the story. It was not a story from his people. He had traveled the continent and met many different peoples. People from remote corners, people from across seas, and all had stories to tell. None had haunted him more than that of the white eyed children. Hassian didn’t believe it when he heard it the first time, or the second, but as he heard it more it began to take hold.

When a person dies, the soul leaves the body. But the body can continue to live even without a soul, for the body is just a vessel. There are people, necromancers, who can make these bodies rise again. They make the bodies walk, fight, serve their purposes, but they are just bodies. Perfect for completing mindless tasks but there are elite necromancers. People who can force a piece of the soul back to this world; make the dead to move on their own, lead entire armies and have complete control over life and death. And yet, there is a third type of necromancer. A person so powerful that they place pieces of their own soul into the bodies of the dead. Each of the dead becomes a sentient being that answers only to the necromancer who raised them. They’re part of the same being, marching to the beat of the same drum. These are the most dangerous because they need an outside energy to power their worth. Constantly seeking isolated souls, hoping to devour their lifeforce to continue their own. They are no longer of this world, seeking only to devour so that they can continue their existence in it.

Kanu had prayed to the Gods of his people, time and time again. He participated in any ceremony that was allowed to. He never did anything to displease the Gods. But Kanu had prayed since he was a youth for a life better than his own. A life where he was not an outcast within his own people. A life where he had a family of his own. A life, with a single friend. For years, those prayers were unanswered. Although he kept up appearances, at some point Kanu had stopped believing. Yet, when Hassian spoke and the moonlight shined down on them, he believed his words no matter how strange they may have been.

At the age of thirteen Kanu witnessed a man be executed for the rape of another man’s wife. Hassian’s story brought up those same feelings again. It was not the white eyed child that Kanu had been afraid of, it was death. The feeling of how fleeting life could be, unaware of what happened when he no longer breathed. Dying with open eyes, able to see the end but not what comes next. The itching sensation of what is beyond the door to death. That was what he felt when he witnessed the child. This was his first time meeting Hassian, but he knew that his words were true.

After a long silence Kanu spoke, “we have to do something about them.”

“I agree, and we will.”

Kanu was unsure why he felt the need to do something. He had not been harmed. He had no one that he cared about and they were far from civilization. Yet, something about the dead walking the Earth bothered him. It would not allow him to look the other way, so he resolved that something must be done.