Leaning casually against the back of the bench with his arms crossed, Leander was enjoying the subtle shadow of a nearby tree that partially obscured his face. He had eventually found his way to the garden Melaine had described.
"Damn… I forgot to mention my memories to Melaine."
Tilting his head back, his eyes traced the branches and leaves from an inverted perspective, as though the world itself had flipped.
It was a bizarre sight – an oasis of life amid death. Having grown accustomed to the constant decay of the Undead Kingdom: crumbling houses, barren fields devoid of green, and the shambling corpses that populated its streets. Yet here, at the very heart of this lifeless realm – within the capital city of Funerary, deep inside the Lich Queen's castle – there stood a garden.
Sitting up, Leander took a long appreciative look across the garden, savouring the rare tranquillity it offered. The space was expansive, only slightly smaller than the grand courtyard at the castle's front. Blossoming flowers in a kaleidoscope of colours dotted the landscape, their vibrant colours a stark contrast to the dreary kingdom Leander had witnessed so far. Fresh green grass – something Leander hadn't seen since his return – blanketed the ground, while a few trees stood proudly, their branches swaying gently in the cool breeze.
One tree in the garden stood out among the rest – a cherry blossom, its branches adorned with pink blossoms that drifted lazily to the ground, forming a soft carpet of pink on the vibrant grass. Yet, despite its beauty, Leander found himself drawn again to the tree that was providing him with shade. Unassuming and ordinary, it bore no striking features, save for one – an etching carved into its thick trunk.
Tilting his head back to view it upside down again, Leander examined the thing etched into the bark. It was a simple, crude etching of a sword.
The sword itself stirred something within Leander. The sword being his preferred weapon of choice, Leander knew what it meant to pick up a blade. It could either be used to defend or kill. Was this something Melaine had carved into the trunk? From what he had seen, Melaine did not seem to use a sword. Could this etching have been made for somebody else?
'It seems I'm not the only one searching for someone.'
Leander softly whispered. His thoughts slowly drifted to Melaine. Her cryptic words and elusive demeanour had left him with many questions regarding his ally. Questions were left unanswered, and this carving only deepened his curiosity.
A slight breeze stirred the branches above, scattering a few more cherry blossom petals across the garden floor. Leander reached up, brushing a stray petal from his shoulder as he resolved quietly.
"Another thing to ask her when we next meet…"
After spending a few moments to appreciate the gardens' beauty, Leander closed his eyes. Breathing in a deep breath, he focused on what lay within him. Leander was certain that Melaine had completely repaired his soul – the absence of any lingering pain was proof of this – but a small part of his mind needed to see, to feel it himself.
Leander remained motionless. He just closed his eyes and breathed.
He kept his eyes closed until the sound of the wind blowing through the trees grew silent, until the warmth of the sun disappeared from his skin. Only when the feeling of the bench he was sitting on vanished did Leander smile.
"I don't know what Melaine did, but I must thank her."
Opening his eyes, Leander no longer saw the lush garden filled with vibrant flowers and trees. The world before him had transformed, replaced by a landscape both strange and breathtaking – a realm seemingly untouched by the familiar laws of nature.
It was Leander's Soul Sanctuary.
At the heart of his soul, a vast sun blazed its radiance, illuminating everything in its reach. No shadows clung to Leander – its light passing through him. Surrounding the sun, countless clouds drifted lazily through the boundless space, the same as the one Leander found himself standing on – yet they were all different, each in their own way.
As he inspected his soul, Leander felt it before he saw it, a fog laced with the familiar cyan glow drifting silently through the luminous expanse.
The cloud beneath him hummed faintly, shifting in response to his subtle movements. Every breath blended seamlessly into the boundless sky; it was hard to know where his body ended and this world began.
Above him, a large ethereal sun radiated light. The sun, immense and unwavering, pulsed with a gentle rhythm that matched the beat of his heart. It was neither blinding nor oppressive but alive.
Holding his chest, Leander felt his breath catch.
His heart was beating. His heart was actually beating. Blinking, he pulled a strand of his hair into view, his white hair was blond. Stunned, Leander was at a loss for words. Within his soul, he felt alive; it made sense. Whilst his body was brought back in an incomplete state
Leander's eyes moved from his strand of hair to his hand, his skin, his fingers. His hand was uncovered, his gauntlets were gone – in fact, all of his clothing had disappeared.
A distant memory brushed against Leander's mind, an as-of-yet unfamiliar voice whispered into his mind.
"Now, little Leo, when you are in your soul, do not be surprised at your lack of clothing. You can't bring normal items into your soul unless they are enchanted in a very special way."
The words lingered in his mind. They felt familiar, like wisdom passed down from a forgotten mentor. This world wasn't simply a place – it was his place. The innermost depths of Leander's soul. Making the sun, no sun at all.
Raising his head, Leander looked up at the burning light. The source of anima, Leander's Soul, glowed with a beautiful iridescent light. Despite its beauty, Leander could see how it was broken. The repairs Melaine had issued to it were apparent on its surface, gentle cyan threads surrounded his soul. Yet, despite that, Leander's soul seemed to be inherently broken.
The core of the soul was half of itself. It was not as if the mighty soul had been cleanly chopped in half, more that pieces of it had been torn out both on the surface and deep within it. Whatever had taken half of his soul had not done so in a gentle fashion.
As he gazed upon his soul, Leander felt something touch his hands. Its texture was smooth, smoother than the finest silk. He looked down at his hands, and a flicker of light danced over his fingertips – something forming, shaping itself from pure intent. Whatever it was, a part of his soul, something that had penetrated it during his moments of weakness, Leander was unsure. And unfortunately, before he could discover more, the mote of light leapt from his hand, zipping into the distance of his soul.
'What was that? I felt something within that light. It... had a will of its own?'
Simply confused, Leander took a step forward the moment he put his foot down – Leander immediately froze. His location within his soul had changed – not just because he had taken a step forward, but his orientation had changed completely, his soul now behind him.
Taking another step forward, his location changed again. This time, Leander felt an unnatural sensation as if he were standing upside down. Another step and his soul was now below the cloud he was standing on; one final step and his soul was now positioned off to the side.
'What… Why is this? every time I take a step, I move to a completely different location. It's as if the space within my soul is broken-'
Biting the inside of his cheek, Leander grimly turned to face his broken soul.
'Right…'
Looking around for the light that had disappeared into his soul. Leander shook his head; wherever the light had gone, Leander was unable to follow. It left a bad taste in his mouth, knowing that something that could potentially unlock more of his memories was so close yet so far.
Covering his eyes, Leander rubbed his face, an annoyed expression slowly beginning to bloom.
"I'll look into this some other time. Where is that person Melaine said she would send to find me anyway? It's been ages."
Moving his perception, Leander's mind left his Soul Sanctuary. He opened his eyes; a strange, transparent figure hung over him. A woman's face looked down at him; her hair dangled down, almost touching Leander's face. With a small smile, she spoke with a faint laugh.
"Hello there, are you finally awake? I've been trying to wake you for the last few minutes."
It wasn't just her eyes that shimmered with the cyan light that all undead had – Leander included; her entire body seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Her whole body emitted a faint cyan glow. From each delicate strand of her hair that blew in the wind to her delicate smile.
'A ghost?'
This woman was, in fact, a ghost. Although Leander had met plenty of zombies and a handful of skeletons over the past week, this was the first ghost Leander had directly interacted with. Leander had thought he had become accustomed to the unnatural, almost bizarre nature of the undead kingdom. But upon seeing this ghost woman – rather seeing through her – Leander was reminded that the world he had returned to was very different from the one he could only barely remember.
Blinking, Leander didn't move, continuing to stare at the person as her hair waved gently in the wind.
"I take it you are the person Melaine sent to find me."
Nodding, the woman moved floating to stand in front of Leander. Except she didn't stand. As a ghost, she wasn't connected to the physical plane the same as a regular person, even as much as other inhabitants of the Undead Kingdom. Her knees bent, and she floated a few feet off the ground, coming to Leander's chest when he stood up.
Tucking a strand of ethereal hair behind her ear, the ghost girl quickly nodded her head as she continued to smile.
"Mhm, mhm. Yes, I am. My name is Ilia, I am an advisor to my lady. I'm sorry I wasn't able to be there for your resurrection. With so many supplies being sent to the eastern front, there is a fair bit of paperwork."
At the mention of paperwork, Ilia's lips slowly grew into a subtle frown as if she had remembered an uncomfortable moment.
"If you're the one Melaine sent, then what can you tell me about this blacksmith who can fix this sword?"
Indifferent to whatever role Ilia played in the management of the Undead Kingdom, he rested a hand on his sword.
"It's important I have this sword repaired as soon as possible."
Ilia frowned slightly as she held up a rolled-up paper tightly clutched in her hand.
"I'm not sure about 'soon', but this map will guide your way. The blacksmith lives beyond the Undead Kingdom's borders. You'll have to travel north until you reach a large lake. This lake sits at the borders between the Undead Kingdom, the Wilds and the Goddess' Kingdom. If you follow the map properly, you will find a small dock. Take the boat and sail across, then follow the map some more, and you should arrive at the blacksmiths. Any questions?"
Taking the map from Ilia, Leander loosened the string that kept it from unravelling. The map contained a detailed drawing of the Undead Kingdom and parts of the Wilds and Goddess' Kingdom that bordered it.
Leander had come up with an assumption that the Undead Kingdom wasn't very large; this assumption had come about due to how Leander had reached its border with the Wilds with only a few days of walking, but this map proved it.
The Undead Kingdom was far smaller than either of its neighbouring kingdoms. This seemed to partly be due to the natural geography of the continent of Ozaria itself. In the south where Funerary was located, the southern regions of the Undead Kingdom were populated by steep cliffs with very few places to reach the sea on foot, to the west the misty mountain range boxed in the Undead Kingdom combined with the lake to its north, the Undead Kingdom was blocked from most directions. The only way to travel in and out of the Undead Kingdom was either from the east where the Goddess' Kingdom stood or a small patch of land where the mountain range ended at the lake.
Despite this, Leander was mesmerised by the map. It was evident that whoever had drawn this map had spent a long time pouring over every detail. Without thinking, Leander asked:
"Who made this map?"
Ilia grew surprised when she had asked whether Leander had any questions about the map. She did not expect to be asked about its creation.
"Oh well, the Cartographer made it, of course."
As Leander turned to her with a confused expression, Ilia realised her mistake.
"Right, sorry, of course you don't know who the Cartographer is. He lives in the cellars of the castle, watching over the library and making… well… maps. We don't really know anything about him, except that he is a skeleton with eight arms and just appeared one day a few hundred years ago. Melaine struck some sort of deal with him, and he hasn't left his library since."
Looking back to the map, Leander nodded his head.
After a few moments of silence, Ilia asked again.
"So, any more questions?"
After a few more seconds, she asked again.
"Regarding your travel north?"
Leander contemplated the map. For Leander – unaffected by the need to eat, rest or sleep – the distance from Funerary to the mountain border was three days on foot. Looking at the map, it would take him a week to reach the lake that lay to the north of the kingdom.
After a few more moments of consideration, he turned to Ilia.
"Are there any undead horses I could borrow?"