Leonidas Abbot. Are you sure we should wake him up? He might-

It matters not what he might or might not do!!! Wake him. He won't remember any of it anyways.

Very well.

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The boy's eyes snapped open. Surrounding him were hundreds, maybe thousands of corpses. He tried to move, but black marble armor restricted his movement, despite much of it falling off with so much as a twitch on his part.

When he was finally free, the boy turned away from the mass of corpses. He picked a direction, and began walking, in the hopes of finding a village of some kind.

As the boy picked his way through the corpse-strewn wasteland, his body gave up, causing him to collapse. He laid face-down on the ground for a moment, then pushed himself up. His arms and legs shook, unused to physical activity. He collapsed again.

Mustering all the strength he could from within his frail body, the boy pushed himself off the ground, staggering away from the barren Deathlands and onward to whatever laid ahead.

After hours of staggering about, falling, getting up, and repeating the process, the boy found himself stumbling into what appeared to be an occultist campsite.

He staggered over to the largest tent he could find, and collapsed onto the floor, hearing scattered gasps coming from within. He struggled to his feet once more, only to see about a dozen people in white hoodies, jeans, and sneakers with their arms in the air. They were all staring at the boy, slowly lowering their arms.

The boy pointed his sword at one of the cultists, and gestured to a pile of clothing near the back of the room. The cultist hurriedly retrieved some clothing for the boy, wonder shining in his eyes.

"Brothers and Sisters, our savior has seen fit to grace us with his presence!!!" Exclaimed a man near the back of the group.

"What do you people call me?" The boy asked, his voice quiet from disuse.

"To us, you are Savior. To those who do not believe, you are known as-" The cult leader began.

"Leonidas Abbot. This is my name, and that is how you shall address me." Leonidas whispered. The cultists nodded vigorously.

Satisfied, Leonidas swayed, then collapsed, everything going black as his eyes shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Several days later...~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bianca's eyes slowly opened.

Naiads were singing softly, birds were singing, and the Great Tree had protected Bianca from anything that might endanger her. It wasn't clear how long she'd been among the roots, but the vines and roots that had started to cover her entire body suggested that she'd been there a while.

Suddenly, the naiads and birds stopped singing. Bianca awoke and felt sick. She sat up in a hurry, the vines and roots retreating. Bianca was hit with a severe headache, it was as if her skull was being forced apart from the inside out.

"He awakens." A naiad murmured, her face going pale.

"W-who awakens?" Bianca slurred, her thoughts sluggish.

The naiad opened her mouth to answer, before a terrified scream cut her off. Bianca's thoughts cleared, and she grabbed her knives, Jack and Mary, and began running towards the nearby village, which was starting to burn.

When she entered the village, several men clad in dark clothing were racing around, weapons in hand, killing villagers, looting and burning corpses and homes alike. Bianca didn't know why, but a sense of pure anger rushed throughout her body. She felt a connection to the village, but she had no recollection of it.

Bianca slew three of them, adrenaline fueling her, before a dark presence forced her to her knees. Bianca clutched her stomach, and felt tears form behind her eyes.

When she looked up, there was a boy, about her age, walking through a wall of magic fire. Bianca and the boy locked eyes.

Light grey met gunmetal grey, and a horrible feeling dawned on Bianca. She sensed the malicious aura around him and felt fear. This boy, this monster, was the cause of all this destruction. This was the entity that made Bianca awaken from her deep slumber. She felt like she was the prey, and he was the predator. But if she was going to fall, she wouldn't die so easily.

The second she stood to fight, however, the boy raised an arm, and all of the black-clad men left without a word. They dropped anything they were holding that wasn't their weapon, and walked away.

The boy pointed at Bianca. Ghostly whispers filled her head, and Bianca heard the boy's voice, so quiet it almost blended in with the rest of the voices.

"My name is Abbot. You will kneel, or you will die." Abbot said. Oddly enough, there was no malice or anger in his tone. There was only apathy, and a hint of fatigue. The boy himself swayed slightly, like he would pass out at any moment.

Bianca took the chance, and rushed at him. Her knives flashed, and they sank into flesh, where they were ripped from her hands.

Unfortunately, her intended target was not what she had stabbed.

A black clothed man fell backwards into the arms of his comrades, and the boy's eyes flashed dangerously.

Suddenly, his sword had cleaved downward, striking the ground at Bianca's feet. Before she could stop herself, Bianca shouted "I invoke the ancient rites! I challenge you to single combat!"

Abbot stopped, and looked back at the men with him. The ancient rites were the most respected forms of combat. The consequences were severe and victory was hard to achieve. If Bianca were to lose, then the men could do whatever they pleased to her. But if Abbot were to lose...who knows what would happen. They whispered something to Abbot, and he nodded. A man approached Bianca, and handed her knives back to her. Abbot removed his white hoodie, revealing a large tattoo printed on his chest.Printed above his heart was a tattoo of a heart wrapped in rose vines, from which dead, wilted roses bloomed.

One of the men behind Abbot moved between Bianca and Abbot, and raised a hand into the air. The men behind Abbot circled around the two combatants, forming a ring. Bianca felt her stomach drop, knowing what would happen if she lost. She could not accept it. She could only hope that if she lost, her punishment would be swift.

"Begin!" he shouted.

Suddenly, Abbot was standing in front of Bianca, his sword point practically touching her collarbone. She recoiled, jumping backwards and falling over. Abbot stared at her. Bianca stood, and rushed Abbot, almost planting Mary into Abbot's neck. Abbot's sword flashed upward, and caught the knife, wrenching it from Bianca's hand.

With her remaining knife, Bianca hacked at Abbot, who deflected each and every attack with practiced ease. Abbot's movements were swift and fluid, contrary to his sickly appearance. Abbot moved with far more grace than it appeared his body would allow, smoothly blocking Bianca's frenzied attacks.

After a few minutes, Bianca realized Abbot's entire body gave off a faint hum whenever he moved, and that he appeared to be slightly hazy, like he would dissolve if struck. Bianca took a chance, and grabbing a fallen sword, swung as hard as she could at Abbot, hoping to land a strike.

Her knife bounced off his sword, but Abbot failed to block Bianca's sword, which would land on his shoulder, a strike meant to cleave him in two.

There was the sound of metal shattering, then a very loud buzzing as the metal shards disintegrated an inch away from Abbot's skin.

The broken hilt slipped from Bianca's hand. She had lost. Despair filled her entire body, forcing her to her knees.

A man raced over and grabbed Bianca's shoulders, a sick and lustful grin on his face. Bianca squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for what was to follow, when the man's hands were ripped off of her shoulders.

Bianca opened her eyes to see Abbot's arm, stained red, reaching through the man's chest, a still-beating heart in his hand. Abbot yanked his arm back, and the man fell on the ground, his heart in Abbot's hand. Bianca braced herself, expecting to see a gruesome wound, but seeing nothing.

Bianca stared at Abbot in wonder as the heart he held was crushed into little more than a little lump of flesh and blood.

"You fought well. I admire those with your spirit, girl." Abbot said, fatigue now more evident in his voice.

Bianca nodded dumbly, and Abbot reached down to help her up.

"They will help you rebuild, then they will leave. I must rest. Do you have a place where I may do so?" he asked, looking around impassionately.

Bianca started to bring him to the Great Tree before she stopped. He was still her enemy, and she couldn't forget that. She promptly stopped and dropped his hand. If he wanted to rest, he could do it elsewhere. It seemed that Abbot picked up on her thoughts however.

"All I ask for is a house. Nothing magical. I only...need...sleep..." Abbot mumbled as he passed out.

Despite his outward appearance, Abbot was surprisingly light. Bianca was able to lift him with ease. She felt some form of pity for the boy. As she brought Abbot to the closest house, she felt a sense of familiarity. Like she'd done this before.

Bianca smiled, despite everything that has happened since she had awoken, and laid Abbot down to rest on the only bed in the house. Bianca then went to rest against the wall, to keep watch over Abbot and to keep an eye on the strange men in the village. Maybe when Abbot woke up, he could explain. And in the meantime, maybe she could remember how she came to be in the Great Tree's care. But that could wait, for now she would keep watch and protect the sleeping beast on the bed.

~End Of Chapter One~