In the waning light of day, Leander watched as the newly awakened undead – the Risen – were led away. The no-man's-land returned to its quiet emptiness, the tension between the two kingdoms felt palpable in the air.
The dead grass abruptly withered away, bright green grass sprouting from the ground where one kingdom ended and the other began. Turning his back on the field, Leander followed Silas back toward the tents – Narina following a couple of steps behind.
"Where do they come from?"
Leander's question held a tone of slight inquisitiveness. Looking over his shoulder, Silas shrugged.
"The border between the Goddess' Kingdom and the Demon Kingdom is far larger than this border. It is constantly expanding and shrinking, shifting depending on which force won what battle on what day. These people came from one of those battlefields, their lives torn from their bodies by a blade or an Act. Although it is not a guarantee that they all came from the same place, the pilgrimage they make can bring their shambling steps together."
Giving the undead one more glance, Silas moved back toward his tent.
Leander and Narina stood still between the moving bodies. The camp had come to life with the arrival of the Risen. Now, as they were guided to places to sit, the members of the army brought out books to document and detail.
Narina's form shimmered, her body covered by blue sparks that quickly gave way as she assumed her human form. Taking a couple of steps to the side, she hit Leander's side with her elbow.
"It's kinda spooky, isn't it?"
"Spooky?"
Leander crossed his arms as he looked at Narina.
"What is spooky about this?"
Stretching her arms over her head, Narina's eyes flicked from one rotten face to another rotten face.
"One second, they were shambling mindless abominations that would try and attack and kill a human, but now they're just there, no different from the undead at Funeral. No different from a normal human – except, you know, the being dead thing."
Tilting her body to the side in an exaggerated stretch, Narina bumped into Leander, earning an annoyed scowl. With a single push, he sent her wobbling, arms flailing as she tried to regain her balance.
As Narina stood back on two legs, Leander looked west, back the way they had just travelled. Although he couldn't see it, Leander's thoughts had moved to the western border between the Undead Kingdom and the Wilds.
"Narina, as a beast yourself, do you know why we have not come across any undead beasts?"
As Narina scratched the side of her head, Silas' voice spoke from the entrance to his tent.
"Undead beasts within the Wilds do feel the pull of my lady's influence. Although all of them in their mindlessness, they try to reach the Undead Kingdom by travelling through the mountains and subsequently, all are lost within the fog. Now, please, come, we have some matters to discuss."
Disappearing back into his tent, Leander and Narina shared a glance before following Silas. As they crossed into it, Narina looked around the tent, not having had a chance to look around the first time, her eyes narrowing as she spotted something lying on the ground.
At the opposite side of the tent, Silas dropped to one knee, opening a large chest, reaching inside, he pulled out a small box. Standing back up, Silas moved to Leander, opening the small box.
Leander peered into the box, finding a dozen iron rings nestled inside. Narina shuffled to his side, leaning in for a look. Her view was partly blocked by the large black helmet she wore, but she still asked:
"Is that the ring you asked Melaine to make?"
"No, it can't be. I only asked her to make one-"
His head slowly swivelling to look down at Narina, Leander pulled the helmet off her head, gently placing it onto the table.
"Do not touch Silas' things."
Huffing, Narina turned away, moving to sit on an empty box.
"Fine, I didn't want to wear that stinky helmet anyway!"
Picking out one of the rings, Silas held it up to Leander.
"A problem we came across whilst operating in the dark is that all undead have a special trait, also a special problem that humans don't have to deal with."
As Silas gestured to his eye socket – seeing the cyan flames burning within his eyes- Leander immediately understood what his comment was in regard to.
Next, Silas pointed to an iron ring that already adorned one of his fingers.
"So I had asked the queen to make something that could remedy this problem, and that she did."
As Silas finished speaking, the cyan flame within his eyes suddenly vanished. Furrowing his brow, Leander looked at the ring Silas held between his fingers.
"An artefact."
"Hardly the flashiest of artefacts, but yes – it requires only a minuscule amount of anima to activate and sustain. So little that it's less than the rate at which our souls naturally regenerate anima. As long as you don't deplete your reserves of anima entirely, the enchantment can hold indefinitely. It is practically a passive enchantment."
Taking the ring from Silas, Leander held it up in the air. On the surface, the iron ring looked like any kind of jewellery, yet it held an enchantment.
As Leander listened to Silas speak of artefacts and enchantments, a memory stirred within him.
There were two types of enchantments: passive and active.
Passive enchantments remained constantly active, drawing a steady flow of power from the wielder's soul through a bonded connection. They required no conscious effort — their effect was ever-present.
Active enchantments, on the other hand, functioned differently. Though they shared the same soul connection, they remained dormant until the wielder deliberately channelled anima into them, awakening their power for use.
A passive enchantment might be a blade that never dulls, staying sharp without any effort from the wielder – always reliable, requiring no upkeep.
An active enchantment, however, could be a bow that generates arrows from anima, but only when the wielder channels its energy into it. These enchantments are more powerful and flexible, though they come at the cost of the wielder's reserve of anima.
As he scratched his chin, a thought crossed Leander's mind.
'It stands to reason that since Soul Arms are like artefacts – just bound to the soul. That they would operate with the same system of passive and active enchantments.'
Turning the ring over between his fingers, Leander eyed the artefact suspiciously. To activate the ring's active enchantment would mean Leander would have to channel anima into the ring. It seemed like a simple task – even with his memories missing – Leander was able to instinctively channel anima throughout his body, so channelling it into something external did not sound too hard.
What gave Leander pause was the thought of using his anima: The consequences of fighting Lewren, the pain of his soul falling apart, and Melaine's words of warning to not use anima.
As he slipped the ring onto the middle finger of his left hand, Leander's expression hardened as his pale fingers clenched tightly – the anticipation of what was about to happen would have caused his heart to beat rapidly had he been a living being.'
'Melaine will have known that Silas would present this ring to me. As she has said nothing about it…'
"Silas, how will I know if it works?"
Placing the box down, Silas crossed his arms.
"You will know."
Biting the inside of his cheek, Leander stared at the ring. Seeing Leander's almost distraught expression, Narina put a hand on his arm, a bright smile spread across her lips.
"Why do you look so worried, Leander? This should be nothing to you, it's just a little enchantment."
Narina's warm attitude did little to assuage Leander's concern.
"You do not understand, Narina. This has the chance of going… badly."
Looking at the ring, Narina's eyes narrowed as she looked at the simple iron ring on Leander's middle finger. A small chuckle escaped her lips as she hopped onto a box on the edge of the tent – a pile of papers fell onto the floor as her tail swept across the box's surface.
"Nope."
Leander's jaw tightened at her flippant response.
"Narina, this... this is not something you can just brush off with a 'nope.'"
Tilting her head, Narina's eyes widened almost as wide as her smile.
"Sure it is. Leander, you were willing to fight the Stalker to protect me. If something is going to kill you, it's not going to be that little ring."
Leander blinked, stunned by Narina's response. His scowl faltered, unravelling into something softer, more uncertain. A breath he didn't realize he was holding slipped out, shaky and quiet.
Slowly, Leander's expression eased – not quite a smile, but the ghost of one tugged at the corner of his mouth. He nodded, almost to himself, before turning away from Narina. The tension in his shoulders ebbed, replaced by a quiet, aching sort of acceptance.
"Sorry about that. I got distracted for a second."
Looking at the ring, Leander closed his eyes.