“One thing too many people fail to understand is that everything becomes pointless the moment you die. While you live, there are always ways to strive towards your goal, but when you die, everything comes to a definite and final end.” - Saying attributed to the Silver Maiden.

“Elder, the Vitalicans are losing,” reported a young Flesh Artisan Aspirant to the old, bedridden woman.

Adela Filutoklos was the First Elder of the Council of Flesh Artisans, the one who was nominally in charge of the final directions for the decisions debated by and presented to the council. She had been in her position for a couple decades now, which was something when considering her mostly human and orcish ancestry, and her advanced age meant that this was likely the final decade of her life as it was.

The divide between the council by the egalitarian faction and the conservatives had been ongoing for the past ten years. If she discounted the hardliners – whose uncompromising ways would just lead to ruin, she felt – then she had to admit that both sides had some point in their opposing views. It was the main reason why she had allowed them to do things their own way when crisis descended upon Antemeia.

While the conservatives chose to evacuate the villagers under their lead to the west, where they assumed them to be safe from the so-called Vitalican “crusaders” and their atrocities, that confidence had been based upon the premise that Antemeia would be able to take on these crusaders. That confidence had since been shattered by harsh reality, and every one of them knew that their enemies had sent a detachment to skirt around Gor-Seinnon to head westward, towards where their people were, and they could do nothing about it.

In hindsight, the egalitarian faction’s near-treasonous approach to evacuate their people to seek refuge in Ptolodecca in the south proved wiser. While both approaches would lead to Antemeia weakening due to the loss of their people, at least those people wouldn’t be dead in the Lichdom. While they were prideful, every member of the Council knew just how dreadful their southern neighbor truly was, and had no doubt that the crusade would never lay their hands to anyone there.

After the disastrous loss that led to the Council’s hunkering down in defense of Gor-Seinnon, Adela had to wonder if Antemeia had not grown too weak in the time that had passed. If they cannot even protect their lands, their people, or themselves from foreign predation, then what purpose does a nation serve? Such thoughts would have seen much ridicule and hostility in the past, but most of the people with a strong pride in their nation had long died to the crusaders, their bodies displayed as examples for all to see.

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Most of the remnants of the Council of Flesh Artisan that still lived at the moment were the hardy and the lucky, those who managed to survive despite the odds. Curiously enough, Hasen and Karani, the two elders who were part of the egalitarians, were amongst them, and had stuck with the others through thick and thin.

Despite having sent off all their younger members to escort the fleeing villagers southward.

She had asked the old couple why they had not fled as well – as her instructions would have allowed that – but they replied that it was the duty of the old to pave the way for the young. The couple had stayed to help the others defend Gor-Seinnon, and thus hopefully distract the Vitalicans enough to allow for the evacuating youngsters and villagers to leave unmolested.

Everything seemed lost for a while, the Vitalican crusaders too well-prepared for the invasion, with tools that were brutally effective against the zombie hordes used by the Antemeians. Adela herself had been gravely injured just two days ago, after she had exhausted all of her undead while defending parts of the outer city.

In fact it was only Hasen’s intervention that allowed her to retreat alive, though it cost the man two of his remaining abominations.

Since she was out of undead and the Antemeians lacked skilled healers, Adela could do little but to rest on her bed and recuperate while she awaited the bad news to trickle in these past two days. As such, she was quite surprised to hear the unexpected news from the young Aspirant’s report. Her eyes grew wide with disbelief as she pinched the back of her hand to make sure she was not dreaming.

“Repeat what you said just now,” she commanded with a hoarse voice.

“The Vitalicans are losing, elder,” repeated the young Aspirant before he seemed to realize that he forgot to elaborate on the circumstances to the elder. “A horde of skeletons had poured in from the outer gates and struck them from the rear. Amongst them we identified bone constructs that matched the description of ones seen in use by Ptolodecca when they fought us two centuries ago, as well as at least a division’s worth of the Wings of Night.”

“So the Ptolodeccans came to our succor…” muttered the elder quietly as she listened to the report. “The others are cooperating with them to fight off the Vitalicans, then?”

“Indeed, elder. Elder Karani asked me to inform you that if things go well, then we should have these crusaders on the run by sundown,” added the young Aspirant excitedly. “Already their lines are breaking in many places, so it should only be a matter of time, now.”

“I guess I’ve grown too old, indeed,” said Adela with a sigh. She had been leaning towards the conservative side herself, while the egalitarians were the ones who suggested asking for aid from their southern neighbor. At the moment, she was just glad that she had not stopped them from doing so, even if in the end it might have resulted in the end of Antemeia, just in another way.

At least this way, the people would still be alive, unlike what would have happened if the Vitalicans were allowed to run around unimpeded.