The Storm (Sato)

Sato

The battle raged on Castle Hill. So too the storm. War cries and a warrior dies. The rain came pounding down like a heavy blanket of pure cold. Chaos erupted alongside. Fog, dust, and smoke fills the air in every direction. 

A scout rears up too close to Leo's steed, nearly causing all to tumble down. Sire Macs stopped the scout short with his massive shield. He commanded the knights of Sato's Shield that Bruno had assigned to his defense. Sato's Shields somehow had kept up with them on foot, even despite the weight of their heavy plate.

"Prince Leo. Grimm's been spotted out half to the Darkwood. Alone. A half dozen knights went to engage him," the scout reported.

"Then they are good as dead. Sato, this is our chance. They may well have bought us it with their lives. We must not delay." Leo implored.

"Right," Sato replied.

A million thoughts were racing through Sato's head at the same time. Are the knights really already dead? Was he going to die? What was death like? Did it hurt? What came after? Could Grimm really kill? Sato forced the questions from his mind.

He steeled himself. This was war. He would do what he must. He would die if he must. He would kill if he must. He mounted his steed and nodded to Leo. Shiro, Leo's steed, charged at breakneck pace out towards the Darkwood. Sato followed in his wake. Their guards and knights surrounded them.

As they made their way through the kill zone, Sato heard and smelled the worst things he had ever yet. It was a slight mercy that the visibility was so poor he could not make out much. His mind left nothing unimagined. The horrors he saw would never leave him. If he had lunch in him, he would have lost it.

He grew lightheaded and dizzy. He heard Leo and the knights shouting, but what it was, he could not make out. It was dark, but a blinding, searing light filled Sato's vision. He saw men on either side of him break off to fight or being picked off by shaded combatants come out of the Sea. He was nearly ripped off Shiro and Leo's backs by an attacker. They would have kept going and ridden out from under him as he was left behind. If it weren't for the heroic rescue of some soldier whose name was unknown to him, and whom he would likely never be able to thank.

"Sato. Sato? Sato! Are you alright?" Leo badgered.

"Right. Yea. I'm alright," Sato stated. Sato could not convince himself of his lie, but Leo didn't press him.

They rode on for what felt like forever. They were soaked, cold, and covered in dust and smoke. They finally happened upon a clearing. A clearing it had not always been. The clearing was once thick with the Chaff Sea, but it had been burned, trampled, and hacked away into a place of nothing but death. Surrounding it on all sides were walls of flame, started by some enterprising draggoon and spread by the Undien burning within the Sea itself. The storm above seemed concentrated on this central point. Thunder clapped and lightning felled upon it. It was like they had entered into HeIII.

In the clearing were more than a dozen heavily-armored corpses resting lifelessly in pools of black blood. Standing sentinel over them, standing facing away from their caravan, was a burning Reaper. A visage of death. Fear and adrenaline coursed through Sato's veins. He had never a sight so something so terrifying. Sato had faced Grimm before, and he froze. Now his voice failed him, too. He never looked under the man's hood. 

The figure was like a silhouette of shadow, pure black upon the clearing. He was tall and muscular, yet emaciated and sinuey. He was dressed in a muddied and bloodied, and well-worn cloak. It was either black or dark brown. The cloak shadowed and consumed his body from head to toe. He shook the blazing inferno from his cloak like it was a mere insectoid inconvenience.

Only his hands and wrists were exposed. They were skinless, bony, bloody, and brown. They looked like that on a rotting corpse. Clutched tightly within the left hand was a sickly, gnarled shillelagh of wood with a massive, rusted, and dull blade growing out of its summit. The scythe was something as terrifying a the man who wielded it. The other hand rested on a skinless, zombified horse. Its ashen flesh was a pale green that looked like a decomposing corpse. He hit the horse with enough force to start it running into the inferno.

As he turned over his shoulder upon hearing their approach, Sato could have sworn he saw a shadow of a wicked smile consume a glimpse of the most horrifying visage, of what made for the man's face. Sato saw dilated bloodshot eyes with barely a hint of white within, the festering crater of what must have once been a nose, dead and rotting skin with a tone of grey and green. No lips, eyelids, or hair to be seen. Only dried blood, scabs, and scars.

 Leo and Sato dismounted Shiro. Leo ordered Sire Macs to take his horse and find Bruno or Sensei and report that they had engaged Grimm. Sire Mac took off at great speed without need for reply. 

"Sato, let's end this," Leo implored.

While Leo was preparing his portals, it was all Sato could do to stop himself from screaming. This was a living, walking nightmare. A shade, a spectre, a reaper, a banshee. It was Death.