The events in this chapter take place around three weeks after part 6. If you read the previous parts it won't be a surprise, but here is a content warning: this might not be a good read for everyone; there will be a lot of nasty things, including graphic description of undead, worms, slime, and similar stuff.
***************************
The throne room was draped in black colors of mourning, and the crowd in it was appropriately solemn - the heir's tragic death was just a part of a much direr problem. King Ruben sat on his formidable throne, a grim frown on his aged face as the debriefing of the sole survivor of the recent battle with undead hordes went on:
"What happened when the army entered the shroud?"
"The protective barrier held, as mages promised. They detected the source of foul magic further in the cloud so in we went... Prince Conrad led the right flank, while I commanded one of the regiments in his charge..." he noticed the king's eye twitching at the sound of his son's name and continued:
"They lured us into encirclement - the enemy leader always was just ahead of us, I heard one of our battlemages swearing he could feel the dark magic source a mile away.
"Several knights advised caution, but it was impossible to secure flanks in the shroud. We could not send mounted scouts into deadly magic, and what use would they be when one could hardly see a hundred feet forward in the damn fog? We marched for about three hours before they engaged us from all sides at once."
"Are you implying they are capable of complex maneuvers and strategy?" One of the officers intervened.
"Absolutely, they surrounded us in complete silence and launched simultaneous attacks from all directions... God almighty, the things I saw... No nightmare will ever beat the reality..."
Queen Rose sat right next to her husband, holding back tears as the somber tale continued. Her precious Conrad rode into the battle in shining armor, smiling and singing upbeat songs, but by now it was obvious her son died on that battlefield. It would be unbecoming of a queen to weep and cry openly, but luckily the black mourning veil obscured her face and no one saw her closed eyes and smeared mascara.
"Regular corpses charged first, tying all our flanks, front and rear at once. Then they released amalgamations of flesh, massive monsters broke our formation..."
"Can you list all forms of undead combatants you encountered?" An eager female voice intervened from the mage representative, a redhead woman with a richly decorated stave holding a notebook to mark all details.
"Archmage Eliza, we appreciate your contribution with the mist-warding spell, but you will have an opportunity to question him more thoroughly later. Surely, my queen does not need to hear all the revolting details", Ruben steered the conversation back from the overly curious attendant while the frustrated redhead slumped back to her chair. She caught hushed whispers, "She is not even an archmage, just an upstart who embarrasses us in front of the king..." and glared murderously at her older, grey-haired colleagues who wisely chose to shut their murmurs at once.
Meanwhile, the soldier continued:
"Perhaps the details of dead soldiers and their tactics are better to be discussed later with army officers. Once the mages were slain the barrier vanished and the battle was lost. I rallied my company and we broke through the enemy's ranks - we lost many but made it out of encirclement. The mist kills slowly, so we had several hours to save our souls. Splitting towards different directions in the hope that at least one would go the right way seemed like the best idea at the time. Looks like I chose right and they were not so lucky." The warrior lowered his head, mourning his faller comrades.
"I know I left my prince and I am prepared to face your judgment, Your Majesty." The man kneeled, showing his neck as if the executioner was already near.
"If you have not fled, we would not know of the battle at all. Tell everything you know to the magic conclave and the marshal, and then I will decide your fate. Take him under arrest, I expect a full and detailed report by evening," the king spoke, signaling the end of the hearings.
"Hey! Don't just take him away!" Eliza tried to intervene but guards escorted the survivor without giving them a chance to speak. She sighed in frustration, then turned and went to the city guard captain:
"Officer! This man arrived in Ostland on a horse? I would like to inspect the mount."
The man frowned, "With all due respect, you are not an expert on treating a horse, besides..."
"I want to study the effect of the mist on the living creatures, you idiot. Where is it?"
The man swallowed the offense and finished his phrase, "... besides, the animal is dead. It succumbed to the wounds from the battle some hours after arrival to the city."
"Then bring me the carcass, I will see at least what poison or magic killed it. Move it to my study," she finished on a commanding note and rushed out of the throne room. By God, sometimes the young magic prodigy seriously doubted the intelligence of everyone around.
At thirty-three she was the youngest member of Ostya's magic conclave - the old senile fools begrudgingly granted her the place but withheld the official rank of archmage despite her vitally important recent invention - the spell protecting from the death fog.
From a very young age, Eliza showed great aptitude for magic and jumped grades and ranks much faster than any of her peers, putting to shame even the most respected and experienced wizards. Without her discovery the enemy would be invulnerable, hidden behind a thick veil of suffocating mist. But as soon as rushing headlong into a battle became possible, the prince and his knights did exactly that with a disastrous result, and now she had to figure out what killed them and what kind of monsters they were dealing with.
The aspirant sorceress returned to her study and prepared instruments and protective clothing to handle hazardous materials; she did not have to wait long until several cussing men hauled a massive body wrapped in gray fabric. Despite the cover, a weak scent of decay wafted in the air, instantly catching her attention - the beast had died only several hours ago, it was way too early for it to decompose as much.
They dumped the corpse into an insulated crate and unwrapped it. The eye-watering stench of death struck her, provoking gagging and huffing. There was something odd about the scent - unusual sweetness to the point of sourness, but the she adjusted to it surprisingly quickly.
Having dismissed the helpers, she finally took a proper look at the deceased mount. There were no signs of agony, no twisted limbs or rigor mortis - the horse just appeared to be asleep, if not for the deep bite marks on its croup. She measured the distance between wounds - the maw that inflicted them was massive, undoubtedly attached to a large monstrosity.
It was hard not to notice another thing - the maggots. They swarmed the deep gashes, spilling out from the lightest touch. Eliza pincered one and tried to study it only to find the worm to stop moving immediately after it was taken. Within a second the vermin disintegrated into dust, leaving her with even more questions.
The familiar rush of facing something unknown, being the first ever to dare venture forward overcame her. In the following hours, the mage carried out a series of experiments, eventually detecting the complex spell that gave them a parody of life. Her talents were just enough to understand the complexity of the magic, but she was nowhere near to completely unraveling it. Consumed by her studies, she missed the gradual distention of the animal's carcass until a sickening sound of ripping flesh announced a new arrival.
A wide hole between ribs opened to the astonished woman and an oblong, foot-long creature emerged from it. At first, it seemed worm-like, but in a moment its body flattened and deformed akin to a slug. His snout moved in the air as if sniffing, then turned towards the redhead.
Eliza snapped out of the shock at the sight of the eyeless, malformed appendage, and swiftly activated the magic seals, trapping the thing in the cage. Alerted by the movement, it scurried back inside the corpse, slipping between jagged bones to hide inside the pile of rotting meat.
"Amazing! Was the mount infected with it? Now I have a specimen for experiments! But how do I get him out of the corpse?" By now she had been working for hours and the fatigue started to settle, so the sorceress decided to sleep on this and see if the morning would bring any new ideas. She put several layers of warding around the cage and started preparing for the night.
To her annoyance, neither magic nor physical barriers could contain the stench. "I will have trouble getting rid of the dead flesh smell if it stays here for a long time. Better hurry with the research. At least the aroma is not horrible, almost feels like strong perfume on some court dame." She inhaled deeply, tasting the rancid but sweet aroma - it permeated her bedroom despite closed doors.
