The War of the Dead Unburied

Ardman was a soldier of Quezetûna, Bennurás, fighting against the corruption and dogma of the Usunderians of the Desert Onama. He was the most loyal soldier of Fedërú, King of Naugh-Elvir, the Forsaken Highlands, located far in the East.

This war—officially named Nonu-a’-Týlvanor, the War of the Dead Unburied, dubbed the battle of the millennia—was a deathly long and gruesome battle between two races of Men: one of whom wanted to rule the world, the other of whom wanted to stop them in their attempt.

Those attempting to rule the world were the Usunderians, a highly religious race of Men from Usunderi of the Desert Onama whose goal was to spread their religion and declare superiority. On the other hand there were the Quezetûnains of the Far East, who only serve Fedërú their king.

But the War of the Dead Unburied was coming to an end, and it was all because of Ardman. He had just made an irreversible, life-changing decision: to kill Sornámë, the Desert-king, Holy Emperor of Usunderi, as was ordered by Fedërú, causing the collapse of the empire and their short-lived goal to achieve world dominance. Not only did this decision change his life—and all the other lives of Quezetûna, for that matter—but it changed the lives of the entire world!

But no, this did not happen randomly. This was a decision being debated for many a year, long after the war began. Allow me to show you how it went down.

The desert equivalent of a battlefield is a battledune, and that’s where Ardman stood, side by side with his two trustworthy comrades, Dúdinûl and Funríl. They were at a vantage point which overlooked the Zekhilo, the Desert-king’s temple.

Directly before the them were three ballistas, one for each of them, and behind them stood the rest of the army with their trebuchets, belfries, and cannons. Out of everyone, they were the closest, and they stood waiting, waiting for any moment when the Desert-king may show his head.

This prolonged. The Desert-king did not show his head, and because of this Ardman was becoming impatient. He was selfish. He wanted nobody but him to get Sornámë’s head. He wanted to take it with him and hang it on the wall like a trophy; he wanted the pleasure he’d get from doing it, he wanted the honor he would receive, the praise. Oh, the praise.

Ardman told his comrades he was going to borrow a longbow and a dagger from the army’s weaponry and go to the Zekhilo to slay Sornámë, but when they expressed their concerns he ignored them. He walked down to the bottom of the battledune and equipped a dagger and a quiver with many arrows, saying nothing to anyone. He then turned and started back up the battledune, refusing to even glance at his comrades as they called his name.

Down the other side of the battledune he went, trodding to the Zekhilo nonchalantly, bravely.

“May God grant him the strength to come out on top,” said Dúdinûl.

“We pray,” said Funríl. “We pray.”

They looked up to the sky as Ardman entered the Desert-king’s temple.

The walls were thick and every step Ardman took echoed softly. From his quiver he slowly drew an arrow and set it on his longbow as he walked up the many staircases vigilantly.

After many a flight of stairs Ardman reached the top, but lo! there stood two men, Guards of the Zekhilo, the Desert-king’s Sentinels, by the front, overlooking the Quezetûnain Army.

Ardman knew not how the Sentinels weren’t seen, considering the fact that they were stationed at the top, where all the weapons are conveniently pointed; but he also cared not, for behind them he saw Sornámë, sitting on his golden throne arrogantly.

He had to make the decision to either take out the Sentinels then the Desert-king, or vice versa; though, to do the latter he would have to be swift.

But his mind was already made up, and the decision he’d then make would be life-changing, both for him and many others.

Ardman peaked. Sweat dropped from his head rapidly like rain. He almost felt like he could not become any more stressed. Sornámë’s eyes were closed; he was sleeping.

Slowly he pulled the string of his longbow with his thumb, holding tightly onto his arrow, and quietly there sounded the stretching, the creaking of the string being drawn. But behold! the arrow drifted off from the wood of the longbow, and Ardman’s skin tightened.

Carefully he shifted it back using his thumb, but the arrow bounced off the wood repeatedly.

The Desert-king’s Sentinels heard the quiet echoing of the arrow, and lo! they turned to its place of origin and saw Ardman! They yelped and drew their swords, and the Desert-king woke and shifted in his throne.

But he was too slow. Behold! Ardman let go of the arrow and it flew through the air, a whistle sounding. It reached Sornámë’s head and penetrated it before he could form another thought!

But then suddenly there sounded a clamor outside, for behold! the enchantment was broken, and the deceased Desert-king could be seen along with his Sentinels, who charged Ardman and began stabbing him; then Ardman bled, and he died shortly after.

Dúdinûl saw this and he was heartbroken; and in a fit of rage he pointed the ballista toward the Sentinel who was still attacking Ardman, though he be dead, and a large wooden stake was shot, and it pieced the Sentinel and killed him.

Then the other Sentinel, upon seeing his dead comrade, took Ardman’s longbow and an arrow, and he aimed it at the two soldiers on the battledune, but lo! he was shot by Funríl before he could blink, and he dropped dead to the ground.

Then Funríl blew a horn, and so did Dúdinûl, and then the rest of the Quezetûnain Army blew their horns.

Now this marked the ending of the War of the Dead Unburied, so named because the Zekhilo vanished before Fedërù could retrieve the bodies of the victims of the attack, and because the soldiers of the Usunderian Army were given as trophies, or burned to ash, or thrown in the rivers, but not given the privilege of being buried.

Honorary Funerals—bodiless funerals held to honor soldiers who passed in war, their bodies undiscovered—were held for Ardman and those of the Quezetûnain Army who died in like ways.

Citizens of Usunderi came forth and begged for pardon, but Fedërú did not do so, for they had committed no crime. He welcomed them into Quezetûna, and now Usunderi of the Desert Onama is a forbidden wasteland, its army abolished. The highlands that were once forsaken are populated now, and peace was restored in Bennurás.