“So the plan is to offer them a name?” Valor asked, quietly his eyes roving the terrain.
“Somewhat,” Jala agreed, not bothering to scan the area herself. She would have to rely on Valor and Valorous to spot anything approaching. Their vision was much better in the low light than hers and she had come to rely on them as her eyes in the past few weeks of travel. “I have to say, I don’t really mind the cold as much as I did when we first arrived. The cold seems to deaden the sense of smell and I don’t think I want to smell myself after countless weeks of travel and several days of sleeping in a cave with dead bodies,” she said softly. There was no real point to being silent here. Fiona had warned them that no matter how much stealth they tried to use, the Forgotten would know where they were once they crossed the border.
“Don’t forget the demon blood that we have both been thoroughly doused in. I know I practically got a shower of it when we fought Nasurai,” Valor added with a sigh.
Jala glanced back at him and smirked at his look of disgust. Valor was typically fastidious about his appearance and he was absolutely filthy right now. “I’ll pay the cleaning bill for your armor,” she offered.
“There won’t be a bill on this armor. It’s too damaged already. I will be melting it down when we return to Merro. It’s something that should have been replaced before now, anyway. It is my father’s colors. I should have armor in your colors.” Valor said with a sigh, his eye still searching the forest.
“That’s not important to me you know,” she pointed out quietly and fell silent as the fog ahead of them swirled. “Did you see that?”
“And that.” Valor motioned with his hand to the left. “And that, and that,” he said again pointing to their right and then above them to the left. “I would imagine they are moving behind us as well,” he said, though he didn’t shift in the saddle to look behind them.
And that, and that, and that. Mocking voices hissed from the surrounding trees. See the living, soon to be forgotten. The voices hissed louder. The words seemed to echo out of the fog.
“I will never be forgotten. I am High Lady Jala Merrodin and I will be eternal in the minds and hearts of everyone that knows me,” Jala called back to the voices which fell silent at her words. Angry murmurs began to build from the fog in their place and Valor shifted in the saddle behind her.
“Whatever you plan to do you had better do it. I wouldn’t simply taunt them and leave it at that,” Valor hissed in her ear.
“I can make you eternal as well. I can make sure you are always remembered and never forgotten again,” Jala called, her voice pitched loudly to carry through the trees. “I’ve come to make an offer to you; an offer that will ensure you will always be remembered.”
“This is a first. Would you have me believe that you didn’t simply wander into our lands? That you actually sought us out?” a man’s voice called from the fog louder and clearer than the rest had been.
“It is the truth. We have come here seeking you, though our guide bid us to go around,” Jala replied. “Are you the leader? The one that holds the Forgotten together?” she asked loudly.
“I am the one they follow,” the man replied as he stepped from the mists and regarded them. In life he must have been impressive. In death he was terrifying. His skin was bleached as white as old bone, while his eyes remained sunken and black. Large spikes extended from the armor on his shoulders with skulls impaled upon them. Most were simply bone, but others still had traces of flesh clinging raggedly to them. Had Valor stood before this man, the Forgotten Lord would have towered over her knight companion and the axe he held looked as though it could shatter any sword.
“Then I name you Axis, for you are their center and thus I will remember you,” Jala said calmly, hoping her plan worked.
The man froze, his expression filled with distrust. “You cannot simply do that. You cannot simply name a man, and say that it is his,” he began, though there was a note of hope in his voice.
Jala tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. “Can I not? I was once told by a dear friend that we have three names in life. The first is given by our mothers when we are born, the second is a nickname that is given by friends, and the third is earned through our deeds. In my eyes you have earned your name by leading your people. Thus I grant you a name and promise you will no longer be forgotten.”
Murmuring filled the fog though it was no longer filled with anger. In places, the mist parted enough for her to catch a glimpse of another figure. Here a woman watching them curiously; there a small child.
“Step forth and tell me of yourselves, so that I might remember you all,” Jala offered, her eyes locked on the small blond haired child watching them from beside a tree. In life the girl had likely been adorable. In death she was a mockery of innocence. Her small pursed lips were blue and her skin was the color of a fish’s belly. Her eyes were the most disturbing, however. Unlike the other dead Jala had seen, this child’s eyes retained their original color of pale blue. There was no childlike light in them, however. They were cold and held nothing but hatred.
“Why would you do this?” Axis demanded loudly and the murmuring ceased at once.
“Because I need your help,” Jala replied simply and truthfully.
Axis laughed a bitter cold sound and swept his gaze over his people. “The living High Lady wishes the assistance of the lowly dead,” he called in a mocking voice.