"He also goes by Leo."
Turning to Narina, Leander grumbled.
"Either transform or get out."
Narina's head poked through the entrance of the tent. Though it was the largest one on the Undead Kingdom's side of the border, it was still far too small to accommodate her full dragon form.
Hearing Leander's response, Narina's nostrils flared as she snorted.
"I'll be outside!"
Whether by accident or on purpose, Narina would go on to knock over a stack of reports as she made her dramatic exit.
Shaking his head, Leander turned back to Silas.
The two armoured figures stared at each other in silence. Leander's indifferent gaze met Silas' – a hollow, unwavering stare, which was less a choice and more a side effect of having no flesh. If Silas minded, his skull wasn't telling.
Silas' jaw moved, his neutral tone filling the empty space between them.
"It truly is an honour to be in your presence. Even when I was alive, you were a man of legend. How does it feel?"
Leander's brow furrowed.
"Feel? How does what feel?"
Resting his palms on the table, Silas blankly stared at the map. The small cyan flames burning within his eye sockets faintly glowed in the dim light – the only other light coming from the torn holes in the ceiling of the weathered tent.
"What do you think I ask? You walk the land after death. From how she brought you back, you walk the land differently from the rest of us. Unbound by her will, free to roam where you desire, where you need to be."
Leander rested one hand on the table as his indifferent demeanour slightly softened. Leander's eyes fell as he thought of this question. After a minute, he quietly answered, a small frown creasing the corners of his lips.
"I'm not sure why Melaine brought me back. I feel… lost without my memories. It feels as if parts of me are missing. Someone I can't remember has a hold on my heart, a feeling I can't quite… feel."
As Silas looked up from the map, his gaze met Leander's once more. Though fleshless, his hollow stare seemed to mirror the sorrow etched across Leander's face, as if grief could settle into bone itself.
"Then we are not that different."
As Leander's lips opened to ask a question, the flap of the tent opening brought their attention to the entrance. At first thinking Narina had returned to make another ruckus, Leander fell silent as an armoured zombie entered the tent.
Unlike Silas' black armour, the armour this undead wore seemed to be made from a regular metal – the slight rusting around the edges showed that the undead either was not giving it the care it needed or that Silas' armour was resistant to the aura of decay.
Stopping a few steps into the tent, the zombie brought his knuckles to his breastplate.
"General."
Silas's head turned to address the man.
"Yes? I know I didn't give any orders to leave us in peace. But I hope you have a good reason for stepping into my tent."
The zombie hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between Silas and Leander a few times.
"I do, sir; there's more of them coming from the other side."
Silas' fingers moved to clutch the pendant around his neck as he looked at the wall of his tent that faced the no-man's-land.
"So soon..."
Silas swiftly moved from his position, snatching a small cylinder from beneath a pile of papers as he made to leave.
As Silas passed by him, Leander grabbed the undead general's arm.
"What's happening? Are we under attack?"
Turning to Leander, Silas' emotionless voice was toned by a slight softness.
"Come with me, you will want to see this."
Still unsure what to make of the situation, Leander followed a step behind Silas.
Exiting the tent, Silas turned towards the no-man's-land
Leander's eyes widened as he saw the camp had woken up. Countless undead had emerged from their tents, stirred into action. Whatever was happening had roused the entire border force. Hundreds of soldiers, clad in rusted armour, stood rigid and watchful, their gazes fixed across the no-man's-land – and those were only the ones Leander could see.
Just as Leander was about to wonder where Narina had gone, he found her a few dozen steps ahead of the line of undead. Just like the undead, she was looking across the no-man's-land.
As Silas stopped near her – he brought the small cylinder to one of his eye sockets as Leander moved to Narina's side – one single question on his mind.
"Narina, what do you see?"
Without looking at him, Narina answered.
"There's like, people and they're coming this way."
Leander followed Narina's gaze, squinting at the distant tents and banners fluttering in the wind. Leander could faintly make out figures wearing bright armour, but what drew his attention was what was moving between these stationary bright figures. Shapes moved – hundreds of dark figures shifted slowly past the tents on the far side of the border.
Leander's hand moved instinctively to his sword... or rather, where his sword should have been. Scowling, he called to Silas.
"Are you sure we are not under attack?"
Moving the small cylinder away from his eye socket, Silas' muted tone carried a calm reply.
"I am certain we are not under attack, Hero. See for yourself."
In a single motion, Silas passed the small cylinder to Leander. Catching it, Leander looked at the strange thing for a few moments. Its design was simple: two pieces of glass caped the stone cylinder. Deciding to copy Silas' action, Leander brought the cylinder to his eye – looking through the glass, Leander could now see what had caught everyone's attention.
Shambling figures moved slowly forward, and Leander's eye narrowed. Confused with what he was seeing, Leander quietly spoke to himself.
"What are they doing over there, if Melaine's forces are at odds with the living? Why do the humans just let them pass?"
The undead drifted like shadows through the ranks of human guards along the Goddess's Kingdom's border. Each shambling corpse wore armour that mirrored the gleaming white of the living – though theirs was fractured, jagged where metal had split, and marred with dark, dried blood. The once-proud emblems were barely visible beneath the stains, as if the very memory of their former lives was rotting away with them.
Silas answered Leander's question – whether he had heard Leander's words or knew what he was thinking, Leander did not know.
"The newly Risen, this is what we all start as. Mindless, shambling our way to her. Melaine's domain is like the light at the end of a long, endless tunnel."
Lowering the cylinder from his eye, Leander silently watched the shambling bodies move slowly but surely towards them.
The undead passed through the no-man's-land.
The border between the domains of death and light was silent, as if no being dared to make a sound. Even the wind had fallen silent, leaving the tents to sit lifelessly. The only sound came from the Risen. The noises came from their boots scraping against the dirt, the vacant noises whispered from their vacant faces.
As the first zombie reached the Undead Kingdom, they fell into Silas' open arms.
The lifeless expression of the zombie slowly changed to the realisation of something – a dawning realisation that they existed.
The cyan light in their pupils flared, throbbing rhythmically, echoing the pulse of a heartbeat.
After a moment, the zombie staggered back, his eyes darting wildly. His rotting lips parted, and a ragged, broken croak escaped – the voice of a man that sounded like it hadn't been used in a lifetime.
"Wh-ere… where am I?"
Silas tapped his knuckles against his breastplate, and for the first time, his muted tone showed something akin to an emotion.
"Welcome, my brother. You are safe here. It will take some time, but your senses will come to you. Until your senses awaken fully, please follow my subordinate. They will take you somewhere you can sit down and rest."
At Silas' prompt, an undead of the army stepped out of the mass of undead lining the border. Moving towards the man, his mouth opened into a smile as he offered his hand. The newly awakened zombie gave Silas a confused look – akin to how a baby looks at their parent – before accepting the man's help and disappearing into the crowd.
As if Sila' actions had flicked a switch, the wall of bodies that was the undead army splintered. All of them stepped into the no-man's-land to welcome their new brothers and sisters into their new home, the Undead Kingdom.
Unlike Silas' muted tone, the other undead in the Undead Kingdom's army showed far more emotion. Many sounded as if they were on the verge of tears as they held the Risen. The mindless Risen slowly came to their senses as the Lich Queen's aura returned them to a semblance of life.
As Silas was welcoming another Risen, Leander's gaze shifted to where the shambling masses were coming from.
No matter how long he watched, Leander couldn't understand why the stationary figures standing in the Goddess' Kingdom. Why did the soldiers of humanity let the Risen pass through their camp uninterrupted, why did the Goddess' soldiers not strike them down?
"Silas."
Leander called to the general of the undead army.
"Why don't they attack? The Goddess' soldiers have everything to gain by cutting down these undead before they regain sentience. Every moment they hesitate, they lose more – and the Undead Kingdom's numbers will only grow. So why do they remain idle?"
Silas didn't respond immediately; only when he had finished welcoming the zombie in front of him did Silas answer.
"Those are not soldiers."
Silas' comment hung in the air as Risen passed by accompanied by their guides to their new home.
Narina was the one to respond. Turning her long neck, she squinted at Silas.
"How could they not be soldiers? They wear the armour, they have the swords, and they no doubt have the Goddess' Blessing. Are you senile or something?"
Silas' stared at Narina.
"How can they call these soldiers when all I see are children? The Goddess' Kingdom has true warriors – its Paladins, the Sisters of Dawn, and the mighty Seven Seraphs… but they are not here. The Goddess' real soldiers are far, far in the north, battling the Demon Kingdom's forces, fighting to hold back a tide of blood and fire."
Silas fell silent as he welcomed another newly awakened dead.
The process of welcoming the dead lasted for over half an hour.
As it would happen, by the time Silas finished greeting the last of the undead, the sun had begun to set.