The Exiles that Laugh Together. 27

On a dreary day in Greselia, a young boy and his sister finished plowing the fields. They were bone tired. This wasn't there usual job. There father and older brother did the plowing usually, but not now. Now they were gone. Polan had taken all men and teenage boys into his army so they had no choice. Plow or starve. The kids and there mother could hardly keep up the work. Sometimes the other women in the villages helped each other out. But not today. There was no help today. Today the two kids had worked hard plowing the whole field. It had taken them all day, but at last they were done. Together they unhooked the plow and stored it away until tomorrow and they could start the next field. Their mother and little brother would do the planting in the field they just finished. It was so hard to work now because of the sickness. It kept them weak all the time, but still they had to work. The sickness everyone knew was controlled by their new king. That necromancer was now our lord and master, and if we didn't obey, it would be so much worse. If he wanted to, the sickness could kill. Polan had showed them how he could control it. By making examples of some of the people and killing whole crowds of people.
Polan wanted to conquer, but he didn't want to govern. He wasn't going to take care of people, he didn't care. Life in Maveta was hard. Polan's poison had contaminated the land and water. Crops had failed, live stock had died of starvation. But they couldn't give up, that would mean death. They needed help. He expected them to care for him and that was the only reason Polan had healed some of the fields and wells. He needed food for him and his army. The people could have whatever was left over after he took his share.
Resting up for the moment, the young girl Tara give her exhausted brother Ciro a drink of sterilized water. Like the soil the water was also contaminated, it had to be treated with a special mixture before drinking which Polan had passed out to the people sparingly. Each family received enough for a few days work, then they had to come back for more. Tara dropped the powder in the jar and mixed it. It tasted horrible, but they had to drink. She passed it to her brother and he drank.
"Thank you." Ciro said with a weak smile.
" We have to get home." Tara said. "Mother will worry."
Tara guided the horse while Ciro rode. Their home wasn't far away, but they had to make it through a dead village. More of Polan's sacrifices. Keeping their eyes open for the dead that roamed these places, they moved as fast as they could. Seeing the dead walking was something new in Maveta. The old king would never allow this. There would be bands of men out hunting them to burn. But not now. The dead were his to command. Sometimes Polan sent them instead of the living to collect tributes. Some thought them responsible for the sickness. Tara and Ciro moved as fast as they could to get home. The streets weren't as safe as they use to be. Hungry villagers, muggers all could be found in Maveta these days.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tara thought she saw a woman coming out of an abandoned cottage. She was blond and beautiful, and she had something red all over her mouth. She smiled and disappeared. Scared as she was Tara wanted to know what was in the cottage.
" Stay Ciro." She said. " I'll be right back."
Tara crept to the door of the Cottage and looked inside. It was dark, but she could make out something in the corner. She walked in moving closer to whatever it was. On the floor of the cottage she found the body of a young man. He was dead. His throat had been ripped out but there was no blood anywhere. Tara ran out and grabbed the reins and ran home.

Up on a hill over the village , a you boy walked home. His mother had sent him to the well for water. With him he carried the powder used to purify the water. After drawing the water he added the powder and watched it turn from a cloudy gray to almost clear. Picking up his buckets he started down the hill. Half way down the hill, he saw something on the side of the hill. A beautiful woman bending over someone. As he came closer she turned and hissed at him. Fear gripped him so hard he dropped the buckets. Then she was gone, leaving a dead man with a huge rip in his neck, but no blood. Looking around the boy ran down the hill home.
All over the village bloodless bodies were being found. So far fifteen in all. This had to be brought to Polan's attention. The villagers were all scared to go out day or night while bodies were being found everywhere.

Graym was the only man left in the main city of Sandor in Greselia. It was his job to care for anyone left in the city. He was exhausted from all the work. He plowed fields, shoeing horses, Graym did as much for the woman as he could until he was about to pass out. Now there were all these bodies. They wanted him to report it to Polan. He couldn't stop the killing, so he guessed he would have be the one to go to Polan and bring him the news. Getting in to see Polan might not be so easy. He hoped Polan would help them, but he doubted it. Then again, something was killing his people, his cattle as he called them and Polan is very possessive of anything he called his. He may not care about the people, but what was his , was his and no one took anything from him.
Graym had to wait a few days until Polan was back in Greselia from his war. All the lands he had taken wasn't enough for him he had to have more. Polan wouldn't be happy until he took the whole world and subjected it to his horrors. With all this on his mind Graym walked home from the fields. He was dog tired and in need of rest. Walking through an abandoned part of the city lost in his thoughts, Graym heard someone scream. He jumped back and looked around. He saw nothing, but the hair on his neck stood out. He could feel something was there. A flash of white caught his attention to his left. He moved closer to take a look. In front of Graym stood the broken remnants a building. It looked like it had once been a shop. The smell of old rotten vegetables filled the air. Graym stepped into the shop to look around being careful where he walked because of all the trash. Suddenly a thick fog began to sweep into the shop. It was cold and damp, Graym felt a chill go through his body. Out of the fog a shape started to form. At was a woman, A beautiful woman with the most amazing eyes. They glowed like gems sparkling in the fog. She smiled at him and moved closer. Graym backed away.
" Have no fear of me." The woman said through red luscious lips." I'm here to make everything better for you."
She reached out to him. Graym wanted so much to run into her arms and let her fulfill his every need. But he knew what this was in front of him. A succubus, vampire, just as evil as Polan. Only she wants his life force now to consume. Graym backed to the wall cold sweat running off him. She threw her head back and laughed reaching for him.

Over head Jayce flew mapping the battle line when a feeling of horror began to fill him. He looked down and knew exactly where it was coming from. He swooped down and landed outside the shop. Something horrible was about to happen here. An innocent soul called out to him. Jayce had never felt this before ,but he was sure of what it was. He pulled his sword and ran into the building. What he saw chilled him. A horrible hag advancing on a man against the wall.
" STOP!!!!" Jayce yelled out.
His sword flashed a bright light which forced the witch back.
" AHHHHHH!!!!!!" She screamed spinning around and covering her eyes. The look of hate on her old shriveled face was murderous. Her arms flew up and she dissolved into the fog and was gone out the window while they watched.
" Are you alright?" Jayce asked Graym as he approached him.
" Yes." He said. Graym looked up and for the first time saw Jayce, the sun shining through a parting of the clouds making him like more angelic. His wings and blond hair shining and moving with the wind. Graym stared at him open mouthed. How do you talk to an angel? What do you say? There was so much evil around Greselia. They needed help so bad he had to ask. Graym fell to his knees in respect of this being in front of him.
" Stand up, please." Jayce helped him up.
" Have you been sent to help us? "He asked.
" Yes." Jayce told him. " My friends and I are going to do everything we can to save your people. Do you know what that was?"
" Yes. A vampire. The worst kind." Graym told him. " Many evil things have come here because of our new king."
" Really?" Jayce asks. " I want you to go tell your king about this vampire. He's not going to like it invading his lands. Maybe we can pit one evil against another. And tell no one about me understand?"
" I'll do as you say and tell no one." Graym said. " But please hurry."
" Have patience." Jayce said as he tapped the clasp and disappeared. " We'll be back to free you and your people. That I promise."
With a quick burst of wind in his face, Graym knew the angel was gone. This was the first time since Polan Dressek had come to Greselia that he had felt any hope. He knew the day would come soon and they would be free of the hell the necromancer had brought them. Graym smiled as he left the shop. Help was on it's way. Finally he could see a future.