Only shortly afterwards, the walls of smoke masking their way parted, torn by a breeze sweeping through the streets and revealing the towering ramparts of Covenport looming up merely a few hundred yards away from them.

"See, Sirius," she whispered, exhausted by the constant drain of her magic spell. "Told you we would make it!" The animal whinnied, nudging her to take off his blindfold.

"Yeah, yeah..." she said weakly, pulling the rag of his brown eyes and together they looked up at the enormous ramparts towering over the city.

In all of Ruuin, few fortifications were as impressive as the walls of Covenport. Impregnable, dark and pitted by the eons, they fully encircled the city and merged with the steep cliffs in the north and west to build one of the most formidable barriers the world had ever seen. Nothing had ever managed to breach these walls; walls that reached up two hundred feet and that were more than fifty feet across at their base. Legend has it that Covenport had been carved from a mountain, something Megan had not believed until she saw the ramparts with her own eyes. Stout towers crowned the wall in regular intervals, standing like grim guardians, each bristling with enormous siege weapons that could hail death and destruction for miles in any direction, be it land or sea. Yet as powerful as these weapons were, they had proven useless against an enemy such as the one they were facing now.

"Alright, looks like it's just down the hill from here on out," Megan said, rubbing Sirius' neck. "The street should lead to the gates and from there it's just out and away."

The large animal huffed, nodding his huge head.

"Come on, let's get out of here... and pray to your horse gods that somebody lifted the city gates by now. Damn quarantine having done more damage than good anyway."

As it turned out, the gods were listening, but in their infinite cruelty chose to twist her wish.

"No..." Megan whispered, her eyes widening in nameless terror as they turned the corner and the Gate Marketplace down the hill became visible. From her elevated point, she saw it choked with hundreds, maybe thousands of refugees, more arriving by the minute, scores of infected and undead on their heels. Barricades sealed off most junctions and were the site of desperate battles, the upturned wagons and market stalls a feeble protection against the growing tide of fiends.

The buzzing sounds of combat and screams filled the air and made the very ground vibrate. She swallowed hard. Never had she seen so many people in one spot. Her eyes wandered over the sea of bodies, following the direction of their flow until they settled on the entry to the Gate Tunnel. The massive iron grate that had sealed the enormous tunnel reaching through the ramparts was open, but escape seemed impossible.

A mountain of corpses blocked the over twenty feet high and thirty feet wide half circle of the tunnel, creating a truly gruesome bottleneck. A wave of nausea and claustrophobia overcame Megan as she stared at the rows of bodies that lay stacked upon one another like so many sacks of grain, some still twitching and squirming, trying to free themselves. She did not know if these poor souls were alive or the resurrected dead, nor did she want to. The sight alone violated her mind and Megan felt herself one step closer towards the abyss that was utter insanity.

Undaunted by the monument of flesh, desperate men and woman were fighting to leave the city by the scores. Climbing the mountain like ants to reach the gap at the top, pushing and shoving to get ahead of their fellow men only to meet their end by what awaited them there.

"Dear gods," Megan whispered. "Who are they?"

Using what little magic Megan had left, she cast a simple spell and the world seemed to jump forward, magnifying the top of the corpse mountain.

Three warriors stood there, preventing waves of citizens from leaving this nightmare by slaughtering any who dared oppose them. They were a terrifying group, led by a true giant of a warrior. Standing close to eight feet and powerfully built, he wore a heavy suit of gore-dulled silver gleaming plate armor. His enemies he cleft apart with a Flamberge that was as tall and looked as heavy as the man himself. The weapon too shone brightly silver, hissing through the air like lightning and each swing of the waved slab of steel sent bodies flying down the hill, showering blood and guts over the following escapees.

Flanking the hulking brute, two nimble warriors in sets of matching chainmail armor fought at the giant's side, ornate battle masks covering their faces. They were both tall but looked like children compared to the enormous slayer in silver. Their armor too had a unique coloring. One set of chainmail gleamed like slime-covered gold; the other appeared scorched and blackened as if having suffered the bite of a roaring fire for too long. Each dual-wielded a set of different weapons: the golden warrior favored a pair of ornate cleavers—using them with gruesome efficiency and sending body parts flying with each mechanical stroke. His twin made use of a set of short swords that gleamed and sizzled like molten metal, cutting, cauterizing and setting clothes and flesh aflame with hissing strikes.

"A meat grinder," Megan uttered, ignoring the nervous prancing of Sirius. She saw another one.

Behind the three butchers stood a slender woman dressed in a white hooded cloak and matching garments: knee-high boots and a scandalous tunic that revealed more skin than it did hide. She was very pale, so much so that her skin seemed almost blue in color. A long scar ran the length of her body, down her crown, between her eyes, her breasts, and even deeper. Even marred as she was, she looked terribly beautiful, but how anybody could have survived such a wound was beyond Megan.

Having no part in the slaughter, the pale woman's arms remained crossed in front of her ample bosom as she watched the melee impassively from under her hood. Megan could feel the power radiating from her. She was a mage, a truly powerful one.

Her task in the battle became clear as a volley of arrows was launched at the butchers during a brief break in the melee. Before they even came within ten feet of the three warriors, they burned to ash in a flash of white light, leaving nothing behind but ash.

Megan was still trying to make sense of why these formidable warriors—seemingly neither undead nor infected—were battling their fellow men when a long knife suddenly buried itself into the side of Sirius' neck.

Her companion reared up on his hind legs, whinnying in pain and surprise, throwing her off. She landed hard on the cobblestones of the street, the fall knocking the wind out of her and shrouding the world in black.

"No..." she whispered, fighting to remain conscious. "Not like this..."

Slowly, her vision returned to reveal one of the infected in mortal combat with Sirius. The attacker was a fat giant of a man, naked apart from gore-stained breeches, and surprisingly nimble for his size and girth. He sliced the air in front of him with a large cleaver, avoiding Siriu's flailing hooves, while trying to deliver a fatal blow. Unwilling to leave his master to her fate, the stallion danced back and forth, occasionally rearing up on his hind legs, using his hooves like a brawler, trying to cave in the man's head. Yet for all his ferocity, the large animal was barely keeping the infected at bay. Judging by the sheer amount of blood pumping from his grisly neck-wound, Megan knew he would not be able to keep this up for long.

She knew she had to do something. Fast!

Having exhausted her magical energies, only her clockwork bow seemed fit for the task. It was gone.

"No-no-no-no!" Megan moaned, searching for the ancient weapon. "Where is it?"

A wave of nausea overcame her as she turned her head too fast, but she caught a glimpse of the weapon lying amidst the broken remains of an overturned market stall that had been selling fruits and vegetables. A mere ten feet away, she rolled over and began crawling towards it. Yet her fall and the magical drain had taken a higher toll on her than she had thought.

Bile rose to her mouth in sour waves, a sheen of perspiration appearing on her exposed skin as she willed herself forward. Every fiber of her being hurt and already the darkness of unconsciousness was creeping up on her from the edges of her vision, shrinking the world, little by little.

"Come on you bitch," Megan growled. "Just a few more feet..."

She had almost reached her bow as a pain-laced whinny erupted from behind.

Sirius.

Icy fear gripped her heart and her head snapped around just in time to see her companion coming down onto his front legs, entrails spilling from a large gash alongside his abdomen. Her eyes widened in terror as the innards hit the cobblestones with a wet thud and unfurled like a nest of glistening snakes. The deadly wounded stallion shuddered, and then faltered as his legs gave way under him. As if in slow motion, he toppled to the side, coming down hard and with a finality that stunned Megan to the core.

The butcher, having ducked out of the way after delivering his fatal blow, was upon Sirius in a heartbeat, hacking and slicing with reckless abandon. Every blow of the large meat cleaver caused misty explosions of red, drops of blood trailing behind the broad blade like the tail of a comet. Megan flinched with each wet thud-thud of the weapon, frozen by the sight of such mindless horror and cruelty.

"Forgive me, Sirius," she whispered, fresh tears streaming down her face. Knowing that her companion was as good as dead, there was but one thing she could do: end his suffering... and avenge him.

Still too far away from her bow, and doubting that she would be able to bring it to good use before the butcher turned his attention to her, left her but one way. A means she swore never to use. Ever...

Megan's perception shifted into the spectrum of sight that only those with the gift of magic were able to perceive. The Sight revealed the very essence of all life forms, for life was in itself the truest expression of magic, showing itself in a multitude of colors, reflecting both one's nature and emotions.

Holding no spark of life, the stones of streets and buildings faded to a dull gray, providing a stark contrast to the living ivy growing over the building across the street. The plant began to glow in a vibrant green, as did—although to a much lesser extent—the vegetables and fruits that lay scattered about on the street. Spots of different colors revealed the tiny lives of animals and insects hidden in the foliage and amongst the rotting fruits. Flowing from all, and by extent connected with everything, were thin filaments of energy that danced like strands of spider silk in the ethereal winds, forming the Everweb.

This magical net connecting all things living was in turmoil, strands of angry red stretching through the air like swollen blood veins. It was a manifestation of the suffering and death that plagued the ancient port city. The strongest aura in view was that of the infected: an angry crimson that shone with an unnatural intensity. No thought of self-preservation, or indeed any other feeling, clouded his mind. There was only the urge to kill.

Siriu's aura, on the other hand, was a melting pot of emotions: fear and pain being the most dominant. It broke her heart to see her friend suffer like this, the sight strengthening her resolve.

It had to be done...

She gave in to that most ancient taboo and began taking that which was not hers. The spell came terribly easy to her... To Megan's sight, darkness spread from her like a sickness. The fruits lying closest began to fester and rot, the insects that had been feasting on them scuttling away in nameless terror before what little life they had was wrested from them... Like a vortex, Megan devoured their essence, all essence, draining the world of color, of life.

A rush of purest euphoria engulfed her as her magical reserves were replenished, pain and exhaustion fading away.

A moment later, the effects reached Sirius and the infected—they both shuddered in revulsion at the magical rape, the act freezing them. The butcher was too strong to die by the assault, inborn defense mechanisms protecting him from a deadly shock to his nervous system, yet his blood-filled eyes locked onto her with murderous intent.

Sirius, already dying, was too weak to defend himself and Megan wrested his life from him with a yelp of shame and ecstasy. She could feel his conflicting emotions as if they were her own: love, fear, pain, hatred, and a gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal.

Then, nothing...

Sirius was dead and Megan was renewed.

Her magic lifted her on her feet, black hair billowing around her in invisible waves of energy radiating from her. She had never felt that powerful before... It was almost overwhelming, the feeling of guilt for killing her friend, the only thing anchoring her in the here and now. She focused on the infected.

"Time to die," she hissed through gritted teeth.

Taking a heavy step forward, the infected lifted his cleaver for a throw. Instantly, her magic reached out and she envisioned twisting his arm. In response, reality bent to her will, and she saw the limb corkscrew, bones snapping and breaking with revolting cracks. Falling from nerveless fingers, the cleaver clattered to the ground, yet to Megan's dismay, no sound of pain or surprise arose from the diseased. The man did not even flinch as he looked at the mangled limb dangling from his shoulder. He merely took another step towards her, the intent to murder a seething promise in his eyes.

Beads of sweat began glistening on Megan's forehead, her face flushing in fear and fury.

"Scream, you bastard!" she shouted, reaching out with her hand as if to grab him, focusing on his skull.

The murderer froze, then stumbled, lifting a hand to his head as blood began to shoot from his nose, ears, and eyes... Gurgling, he fell on his knees, coughing out a mouthful of blood as the pressure inside his cranium became even stronger. Eventually, the pain overcame the rage brought on by the Blood Plague...

His screams were like music to Megan's ears. They had lasted a very long time before she closed her fist shut.

With this, the head of the infected exploded, blood and brain matter shooting from eyes, mouth and ears, the man's neck bulging and swelling terribly under the sudden rise of pressure. He stood still for a second, twitching feebly, and then Megan let go of him. He collapsed with a meaty thud.

"Maythe Void claim your soul," she whispered spitefully. Then her eyes fell on themotionless form of Sirius, and all her hatred washed away. She walked over tohim, falling on her knees, reaching out, but too afraid to touch him. Instead,she clutched her hands between her knees, weeping silently.