These Hallowed Bones - [Monster Evolution, Dark Fantasy, Heroic Undead]

I'm putting this first, not in the author notes, because it matters to me and ultimately decides how far the story goes and what other mediums we see for it.

I haven't asked you to support the story with a patron. I haven't held advance chapters in reserve or ended things on cliffs to compel you to subscribe. I've just given you a story, as best as I can.

And now the first part of that story will be coming out in December, longer, polished, and highly edited. Sure, its a long time from now, certainly, but if you want to help or give back: wish list it or preorder. That's all I ask.

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Emmy presses her shoulder against the rough stone of Haven's parapet. Water seeps through her leather boots as the flood creeps higher along the base of the walls.

The sandbag in her arms grows heavier with each step, but she doesn't slow. She can't slow. Not when he's out there.

The skeletal titan moves like a force of nature through the black water. Aeternus carves silver arcs through the storm. Each swing sends corrupted warriors spinning back into the depths.

Each step forward drives the enemy further from Haven's walls.

"Emmy! West corner needs reinforcing!"

She turns toward her Sergeant's voice, hefting the sandbag higher. Around her, guards and civilians work frantically to shore up the defenses.

Old men and young boys pass buckets. Women stuff rags and debris into cracks where the ancient mortar has given way.

The water finds every weakness, every gap, turning Haven's grounds to mud. But the real battle rages beyond the walls.

Emmy reaches the west corner where water spurts through a crack in the stonework. She drops the sandbag and wedges it against the breach, pressing her weight into it as one of the city guards brings another.

The water slows but doesn't stop.

"That's the best we can do," the guard mutters, rain dripping from his gray beard. "These walls weren't built for this."

Emmy watches the skeleton knight, the titan turning to face a new wave of attackers. His form has changed since yesterday.

Taller. More terrible. The blue flames in his skull burn brighter.

"They're holding," she says.

The guard follows her gaze. "For now. But look at those numbers."

He's right. More vessels breach the surface every minute.

Barnacled warriors pull themselves from the depths while larger shapes move beneath the black water. The Skeleton Knight and his legion fight, but they're vastly outnumbered.

Emmy grabs another sandbag from the pile. Her arms ache, but she keeps moving.

This is her part. Fill the gaps. Shore up the walls.

Let him do what he does best outside the walls.

A massive splash draws her attention back to the battle. Something enormous has surfaced near Haven's eastern approach.

The water parts as a creature fifty feet long emerges, part ship, part leviathan, covered in armor plates and bristling with weapons. The titan turns to face it.

Emmy's hands still on the sandbag. She's seen him fight before.

Watched him tear through enemies that should have destroyed him. But this thing dwarfs everything else on the battlefield, even him.

The creature's jaw opens, revealing rows of teeth longer than swords. Water pours from its maw as it roars, a sound that rattles Haven's stones.

The Skeleton Knight doesn't hesitate. He charges.

He wades forward.

"Emmy!" The Sergeant calls. "We need those bags at the north gate!"

She forces herself to look away from the battle, shouldering another sandbag. The north gate has always been Haven's weakest point.

Too much settlement over the centuries, too many repairs with inferior stone. Water streams through gaps in the foundation, pooling in the courtyard beyond.

Emmy splashes through ankle-deep water, joined by a dozen other volunteers. Commander Ikkert stands waist-deep in the flood, directing the reinforcement efforts.

Her hair hangs in wet tangles, but her voice carries clear.

"Stack them three high along the base! Use the smaller debris to fill the spaces between!"

Emmy drops her sandbag into position, then immediately turns for another. The work becomes its own momentum.

Lift. Carry. Place.

Return. Her back burns and her lungs strain, but she doesn't stop.

Outside, the sound of combat intensifies. She risks another glance through an arrow slit.

The leviathan towers over the titan, its bulk casting shadows across the battlefield. But something has changed.

The Skeleton Knight and his legion aren't fighting alone anymore. Other shapes move through the water.

Emmy's hands freeze on the sandbag as the shapes become clear through the storm. Wolves.

Skeletal wolves dripping water. They leap from ship to ship, tearing through corrupted sailors.

Her breath catches. She knows these bones.

The largest wolf, massive, with a spine ridge that speaks of primal dominance, bounds along Haven's outer wall. Water cascades from its skeletal frame as it launches itself at the leviathan's head, claws extended toward the creature's massive eyes.

The alpha. What it has done to her family, she knows.

Emmy's sandbag slips from nerveless fingers, splashing into the water at her feet.

"Emmy!" The Sergeant's voice sounds distant. "What are you doing!"

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She can't hear him. She can't hear anything over the roar in her ears.

Those wolves. Those specific wolves.

Her father died screaming in a settlement that wasn't a settlement. Torn apart by balverines wearing human faces during the day, revealing their true nature when darkness fell.

The growls. The wet tearing.

The moment when her father's voice stopped forever. And now those same creatures fight for Haven.

Emmy's hands shake as she grips the stone window frame. The alpha wolf tears at the leviathan's eye, its claws finding purchase in the soft tissue.

Black blood sprays across the water as the massive creature thrashes, trying to dislodge its attacker.

Emmy's grip tightens on the stone as understanding crashes over her like the black water below. The careful silences.

The way guards change the subject when she asks about her father's death. How Commander Ikkert's eyes always shift away when Emmy mentions wanting to know what happened to him.

"Balverines," she mutters.

Like the truth everyone's been protecting her from. Her father didn't die to some nameless monster in the dark.

He died to those monsters. The ones now fighting for Haven's walls.

Emmy watches the alpha tear at the leviathan's eye, its skeletal jaws working to bite down. The same jaws that once feasted on her father.

She presses her hand to her mouth, bile rising. Every awkward pause when she asks questions.

Every gentle redirection. The way the Skeleton Knight went silent when she demanded answers at the memorial wall.

They all knew. And now those bones serve him.

Wear his colors. Fight his battles.

Emmy's legs give out. She slides down the stone wall until she's sitting in the ankle-deep water, staring through the arrow slit at creatures that once wore her father's blood.

The sandbag floats past her, forgotten.

"Emmy?" The Sergeant's voice carries concern now. "You alright, girl?"

She can't answer. She can't breathe.

The wolves leap between ships, efficient killers protecting the living. That's the same wolf that killed her father.

"Emmy, we need you moving!" Commander Ikkert shouts.

Emmy turns, water sloshing around her ankles. Commander Ikkert stands nearby.

She hasn't seen. She hasn't recognized what Emmy has.

"The wolves," Emmy says, her voice barely audible over the storm.

"What?"

"The wolves fighting out there. I know them."

Ikkert follows her gaze to where the skeletal pack tears through enemy ships. The alpha still clings to the leviathan's head, while other wolves swarm the creature's flanks.

"They're helping us," Ikkert says. "Whatever they are, they're on our side."

Emmy laughs, but there's no humor in it.

"They killed my father, didn't they."

The words hang between them, heavy with years of grief and sleepless nights. Ikkert's expression shifts, understanding dawning.

"Emmy."

"He wore their bones." Emmy's voice grows stronger. "The Skeleton Knight. He took their bones after he killed them and made them part of himself."

She watches the alpha rake its claws across the leviathan's face, peeling away corrupted flesh in long strips. The creature's roar of pain echoes across the battlefield.

"And now he's given them form again. Made them into his hunters."

Another sandbag splashes next to her feet. The alpha releases its hold on the leviathan's eye and springs away as the creature's massive jaw snaps shut where it had been.

In one moment the wolf lands on the creature's back and begins tearing at the armor plates protecting its spine while the Skeleton Knight keeps its attention.

Emmy has seen that exact movement before. In nightmares.

In the moments between sleep and waking when the memories surface unbidden.

"He commands them now. The Skeleton Knight. Death's Champion." Commander Ikkert looks at Emmy. "He doesn't just fight monsters, Emmy. He claims them."

Weapons in service of Haven's protection. Part of her wants to rage, scream.

To demand justice for her father's blood, for the terror he felt in those final moments when human faces peeled away to reveal fangs and hunger. Three years of grief and unanswered questions burn in her chest.

But another part, the archer who's stood watch on these walls, who remembers cowering in dark tunnels while a face-stealing horror hunted above, understands the terrible logic. The Skeleton Knight doesn't just defeat monsters.

He claims them. He transforms them.

Makes their strength serve the living instead of consuming them. Her father's killers now throw themselves against Haven's enemies.

The claws that once tore through Merrick's flesh now defend other fathers, other children. Emmy watches the alpha leap from the dying leviathan to another vessel, leading its pack in perfect coordination.

Efficient. Deadly.

Protective.

"They're still killers," she whispers to the storm.

"Yes," Commander Ikkert says quietly. "But now they kill for us."

The truth settles over Emmy like cold water. Justice and necessity.

Grief and gratitude. All tangled together in the space between heartbeats.

The dead can be redeemed.

"Emmy." Commander Ikkert's voice is gentle but firm. "We need those sandbags moved."

Emmy looks down at the water lapping at her knees. The flood continues to rise, and Haven's defenders work frantically to shore up every weakness.

This is her duty. Her part in the larger battle.

She bends to retrieve the dropped sandbag, water soaking through her sleeves. The alpha wolf has torn a hole in the leviathan's armor.

Other pack members pour through the gap, attacking the creature from within. The titan skeleton knight continues his assault from the front, Aeternus carving deep wounds in the leviathan's flanks.

Emmy carries the sandbag to the north gate, adding it to the growing barrier. As she turns for another, she catches sight of movement on the outer wall.

The alpha has returned, loping along the parapet with impossible grace. Its skeletal frame drips with black blood, but it moves without injury.

Without pain. It pauses directly across from Emmy's position and looks through the arrow slit.

Blue fire burns in its empty eye sockets. The same cold flame that burns in the Skeleton Knight's skull.

For a moment, they stare at each other across the gap between wall and battlefield. Predator and prey.

Killer and victim's daughter. Then the alpha inclines its head slightly, not a bow, but an acknowledgment, and bounds away along the wall, rejoining its pack as they tear into another enemy vessel.

Emmy stands frozen, sandbag forgotten at her feet. It knew her.

It recognized her. The bones remember.

"Emmy!" The Sergeant appears at her elbow. "The east wall needs reinforcing! Move!"

She forces herself back into motion, grabbing the sandbag and following the Sergeant through Haven's flooded courtyard. Other defenders splash through the growing lake, their faces grim but determined.

They reach the east wall where water pours through a section of deteriorating mortar. Emmy adds her sandbag to the pile, pressing her shoulder against it to hold it in place while others work to patch the gaps.

From here, she has a clear view of the entire battle. The leviathan thrashes in its death throes, the pack having torn its way to something vital deep inside the creature's body.

The titan skeleton knight has moved on to engage another massive enemy, some kind of armored whale.

The skeletal wolves flow between the enemy ships, appearing wherever they're needed most. They climb masts and dive beneath the waves, hunting with the same efficiency they once brought to stalking human prey.

But now they hunt corruption instead of innocence.

"They're winning," someone says. Emmy turns to see one of Haven's older guards, a man who's seen more battles than most. "Look at that coordination. Look at that discipline."

He's right. The enemy forces, numerous as they are, lack any unified strategy.

They attack in waves, each creature or vessel fighting independently. But the skeleton knight's forces stand firm against them.

The wolves drive enemies toward the titan's blade. The titan creates openings for the wolves to exploit, and in places underneath the undead legion skewers with spear points.

Emmy watches the alpha leap from a sinking ship to land on the deck of another enemy vessel. Its claws tear through corrupted sailors, clearing a path for its pack mates to follow.

Those same claws once tore through her father's throat. The thought should fill her with rage.

With hatred. Instead, she feels something else entirely.

Understanding. Her father's killers have become Haven's guardians.

The irony isn't lost on her.

"Watch the gap!" The Sergeant calls. Water begins seeping around Emmy's sandbag, and she adjusts her position, pressing harder against the barrier.

A tremendous crash echoes across the battlefield. The leviathan's tail sweeps through a formation of skeletal warriors, sending bones flying.

But they reform almost instantly, pulling back together with grim purpose. The Skeleton Knight leaps onto the creature's back.

Emmy presses closer to the arrow slit, her sandbag forgotten at her feet. Aeternus rises high above the titan's head, blazing with silver fire.

The leviathan thrashes, trying to dislodge its attacker, but the skeletal knight drives his blade deep between armored plates.

Black ichor fountains from the wound. The creature screams, a sound like tearing metal.

It rears up, taking the titan with it, then crashes back down in an explosion of spray and foam.

For a moment, Emmy can't see anything through the chaos. Then the water settles, and the leviathan floats motionless.

The titan stands atop its corpse, Aeternus still smoking in his grip.

A cheer goes up from Haven's walls, but Emmy stays quiet. She knows there are more enemies in the depths.

More tests to come. This victory, decisive as it seems, is only the beginning.

"Back to work," Commander Ikkert calls. "The water's still rising."

Emmy retrieves her sandbag, but her movements feel different now. Lighter.

Each step carries more purpose, more hope. He's out there.

Her guardian. Her knight. And he's not alone anymore.

She passes the guard once more on her way to the supply pile. The old man's face has lost some of its grim worry, replaced by something that might be cautious optimism.

"Think they'll hold?" he asks.

Emmy looks out at the army of the dead, fighting against the forces that would drown her home. She sees the Skeleton Knight moving through their ranks, directing the battle.

"They'll hold," she says. "They have to."

The water laps higher at Haven's walls, but Emmy no longer worries about the flood. She has work to do.

Gaps to fill. Walls to shore up.

Let the dead guard the living. Let her knight of bones guard their home.