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I swung my chain in an arc into the cluster of undead as they rushed towards me, scattering bones across the church, then the skeletons were all around me, I flipped the switch on the box of chain and the Kama sailed back into my hand, splintering the ribcage of one skeleton and sending it stumbling into another. I was quickly hard pressed on all sides as the skeletons mobbed me.

"Kazath!"

"I'm here."

I felt myself split as Kazath took one half of my body and protected that side, allowing me to focus on my own side. There was a surging sensation and my body changed into dragon form. Even with the additional strength and protection of my draconic body I knew I couldn't hold out indefinitely against the horde of undead. I kept my Kama in a constant flurry of motion parrying and slashing the relentless dead, forcing an opening in their ranks. I sank my consciousness further into Kazath's and exploded into motion, then the life and death struggle suddenly became a thing of beauty.

I watched like a spectator as my body leapt through the church leaving swathes of broken bones in its path. Patterns unfolded before my eyes playing the skeletons against themselves, a huge skeleton swung a great rusted axe at me, forcing me to drop down flat and the axe swept aside two skeletons who had been behind me. Wasting no time I rolled off to one side and drove my kama into the giants ankle joints, prying them apart, I was already spinning to face more attackers as it fell and broke its neck against one of the old pews. I twirled and leapt in a graceful dance of death, skeletons piling up on the ground as they were destroyed. I dove over the sweeping longsword of one skeleton between two more; both of them lunged with their shortswords, impaling each other and trapping their swords. They remained locked together for a moment until I swept my kama up and decapitated both of them.

I lost of count of how many of the undead I slew, or how long I had battled pushing myself far past the endurance I thought I had. The battle wasn't completely one sided though, I suffered from cuts all over my arms from my attackers and bone splinters jabbed me from where I had been forced to roll over one skeletons remains to avoid another. Beads of acidic blood dripped onto the dusty floor sending up tiny wisps of steam. I jammed the blade of my kukri up through the jaw of one of lightbringers reanimated soldiers into its skull and watched the pinpricks of red lights in its eye sockets wink out, and then I whirled around to face more enemies only to find that I was alone. I eyed the piles of broken bones for any movement, but they were all truly destroyed.

"That wasn't so hard." I gasped. Then the sun broke through the church, bathing everything in light and I passed out.

***

They had come here in the first hours of the raid, hoping for divine protection and began fortifying the church. Priests attempted to help the wounded as they streamed in, men women and children of all shapes and sizes, going to the one place they thought would be safe. There was no way they could have known that their god was helpless to save them. Their priest stood at his podium and attempted to give the people hope, even though he knew that there was no way for them to survive this onslaught, he had walked up to the bell tower and looked out across the burning city and knew there would be no salvation, lightbringer would not leave this place untouched. He contemplated steeping out over the rails and simply falling but he knew what that would do to the people. He walked down the steps to his chamber and began arming himself, he would die in battle, and he would meet death with his head held high. The armor had been a thing of his youth and hung loose on his ancient frame. The weight of the black rings of mail nearly brought him to his knees but he held himself up. He drew the hood up over his head and felt the armor tighten around him; he smiled in pride at the enchantment that still worked after all these years. Next went on the black leather pants, he was forced to belt these up as they lacked the enchantment of his ring mail. Finally he reached under his cot and pulled out a long narrow box, flipping a secret switch the box flipped open revealing a cloth wrapped bundle. The old priest withdrew it reverently and unwrapped a long ebony blade, the hilt worked in Kazath's symbol, the blade rune-marked and heavily enchanted.

All conversation ceased as the old priest re-entered the hall. Everyone looked in awe at this figure resplendent in his dark armor and gained hope from it, the children had been evacuated already, slipping through secret tunnels underneath the church. Each man and woman left was armed and determined to fight, no matter how futile it may be, they would protect this place, guarding their children's backs. The sounds of battle drew closer and two minotaurs pulled the great doors closed. Everyone in the church knelt and faced towards the front, where one of the junior priests stood at the podium. He was the only priest to have remained behind other than the high priest; unarmed and unarmored he stood and spoke to the people of what they were fighting for. For freedom. For their children. For those who had died and those who would die if they broke. And they fought for themselves too, they fought for pride, for revenge, for love, for hate, they each drew strength from each other and waited watching the door as the lightbringers reached it with a battering ram. Each blow rattled and shook the door, and then the high priest walked forwards and pointed his sword towards the gates.

"Let them forever sing our names." A beam of black light spat from the end of his sword and struck the door which exploded outwards in a shower of iron and splinters into the soldiers waiting outside. With a roar that shook the churches rafters, Kazath's people charged over the shattered gates and plunged into the still reeling soldiers cutting down dozens before the lightbringers were able to reform. Each person fighting was a hero, each of them had nothing left to lose, each of them knew that they would die fighting to the last man and woman. A crossbow bolt whizzed overhead and struck the young priest who had spoken to them in the heart killing him instantly, and he fell over the podium. A few of them fell outside before they were forced to fall back inside the church grounds. A feline, mortally wounded by a sword threw herself into the center of a group of soldiers killing three before being run through with a spear. All throughout the church such stories unfolded, the high priest stood at the centre of the line of defenders, his sword sweeping death through any soldier who neared him, then as the soldiers started giving him a wider berth he pointed hi sword and unleashed a torrent of black fire into their ranks. The two minotaurs who had swung closed the gate stood back to back, surrounded by soldiers they swung their deadly axes in a swath of blood and viscera, another crossbow bolt struck one of them in the throat. The wounded minotaur continued to fight as his lifeblood coursed down his neck then with a mighty roar he threw himself forwards and bowled the soldiers in front of him into the black fire from the High priest's sword. This time the High Priest saw where the crossbow bolt came from.

The priest of lightbringer stood at the entrance of the church reloading his crossbow, his face wore an arrogant contemptuous smile, and even though he had lost more than half his men he knew that there could only be one outcome to this battle. Then he saw the sword being raised towards him and the smile dropped from his face. Eyes widening in shock he drew his holy symbol up in one hand and his crossbow in the other as the old priest unleashed the last, deadliest spell stored in the blade. The priest of light watched in shock as his holy symbol split cleanly in two and then fell, blood gushing from his torn throat, then his crossbow went off. The deadly bolt streaked from the dying priest bow and stabbed into the dark priest's stomach, who gasped in pain and fell to one knee.

The remaining defenders went berserk as their leader clutched the bolt and pulled it out. The attackers fled before the deadly onslaught, demoralized as they were by the death of their own leader and the seeming invincibility of their enemies own leader. The remaining four defenders were all mortally wounded and they gathered together amidst the fallen bodies of their friends and enemies. Then the high priest stood unsteadily and began walking towards the bell tower steps, the rest of the survivors following him, supporting each other as they climbed the steps. They reached the top of the tower as the sky was beginning to darken from Kazath's spell and knew that at least some today would survive, and each took a position on the sides of the tower looking out over the city, the sky darkening above them, the city burning below them.

The high priest walked unsteadily over and began to ring the bell, until he closed his eyes in death, then one of the others began ringing the bell and that was how they passed out of the world. The bell tolled long after they were all dead as the sky turned black.

***

I woke up with tears streaming down my face and dropping onto the dusty floor. I sat up and looked around the church recognizing the skeletons of those brave defenders and I decided what needed to be done. I tore down the tattered drapes off the walls and lay them out on the floor then I began laying out the defenders skeletons and wrapping them in the draperies of the place they had died protecting. Once all of their skeletons had been wrapped I dragged them into the courtyard at the centre of the church and buried them. It took quite a while to piece together all of the skeletons since I had broken a number of them into pieces. When I came to the young priest who had died at the podium I drew out the pendant I had taken from him and placed it back around his neck before burying him. Finally it came time for me to climb the bell tower, I looked down at the blood streaked steps and then began my journey up. The skeletons remained in the same positions they had been when they died each one clutching the rope, now ancient and rotten. I reached out to pry their fingers off the rope but as soon as I touched them they released the rope and lay back on the floor. I gently picked each one up and carried them down to their final resting place. My last trip up it was just me and the high priest left at the top of the tower.

"I wish I had known you," I spoke to his remains, "I wish you could have had your answers before you died." That said I carried his body down the stairs and into the grave I had prepared for him. Just as I was about to start burying him the old priest's hand clutching the sword shot up, I jumped back, worried that I was going to have to fight him but he just remained where he lay sword held up and I got the message. I reached down and took the sword from the priest's hand, whispering a thanks to him. I strapped the feather-light sword onto my back and buried him. I looked over the fresh graves for the long dead and felt moved to say something.

"You deserved better than what you got."

Next I searched through the skeletons for those who had died after the battle, the poor souls who had brought down the wrath of the skeletal protectors, and laid them off to one side. Later I would try to find if they had any remaining family. That done I took the rest of the skeletons and burned them.