(Anglo-Saxon Cycle – c. 431 AD)
The horn had fallen silent, yet the earth still trembled; a low, steady hum rose from beneath the Chase. Mist rolled thick as wool, swallowing the trees and turning the air into a breathless white.
Thunorric stood at the front, sword low; blood dried dark along the edge. Behind him, Dægan and Leofric formed a narrow line, each facing the shapes that crept from the fog.
The dead men of Pennocrucium did not walk; they drifted, armor clinking faintly as if echoing battles that had never ended. Some still bore their Roman crests; others had the crude marks of tribes that had long forgotten their names.
Leofric’s voice broke the silence.
“They remember their banners, but not their peace.”
One of the dead stepped forward; a centurion, helm cracked, eyes like dull embers.
“We marched for empire,” the corpse rasped, “but Rome fell, and the gods turned their faces. The barrow called, and we answered.”
Thunorric’s grip tightened on his hilt.
“Then hear me now. You have no master left; not Rome, not the storm, not even death itself. Rest your arms.”
The ground shuddered. The lead soldier’s skull tilted as though considering the words. “And who commands the storm now?”
Lightning split the mist; not from the sky, but from the blade itself. It burned white, then blue, throwing every figure into ghostly relief.
“I do,” Thunorric said.
The flash tore through the field like a living thing, cutting through bone and rust. When the light faded, the mist began to thin; where the soldiers had stood, only ash remained, stirred by the soft breath of dawn.
Leofric knelt, pressing his hand to the ground.
“You’ve bound them.”
Thunorric sheathed his sword with a quiet rasp.
“No. I reminded them who they were.”
The wind rose once more, sweeping through the trees; not in warning this time, but like a sigh of relief.
Dægan crossed himself, the habit of old Rome still clinging to him. “And if the barrow wakes again?”
Thunorric turned toward the faint light creeping over the hills.
“Then we’ll wake with it.”
Copyright Note
© 2025 E. L. Hewitt / Stormborne Arts. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying or reproduction of this artwork and text is prohibited.
Thank you for reading.© 2025 Emma Hewitt / StormborneLore. All rights reserved.Unauthorized copying or reproduction of this content is prohibited.
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