The Depths of Love

*Several years ago, Lordaeron*

The knock on the door was soft, as if the knocker did not want anyone nearby to hear it. The sound barely made it across the large storage cellar, especially given the sound of the violin that had already picked up and the laughter of the people already present. Even so, Beckyann heard the sound and hurried to the door, a smile on her face and her skirts hiked up to allow her to move more quickly.

She opened the door a crack, peeking out with one green eye to see who was there. Her smile widened and she opened the door further as she recognized the man standing on the other side, his own face consumed by a similar grin. "Frederick! I'm so glad you made it! Did you bring it?"

Frederick Lightstone was a tall, handsome man who also happened to be the captain of the Woodbury Family's house guards. His muscular form was clothed in the neat, military uniform of the Woodbury family and his long dark hair was neatly styled and tied back. He leaned forward, sweeping Beckyann up in a one-armed hug before displaying the bottle of expensive wine he held in his other hand. Delighted, Beckyann quickly pulled him through the door and closed it behind them, bolting it in place. The others in the room gave a cheer when they saw what the captain was holding and the music picked up more loudly, some of the people at the party already beginning to dance.

Beckyann smiled, walking hand in hand with Frederick towards a table that had been set up across two barrels. The storage room had been mostly cleared, allowing the servants to make a space to dance and revel. Most of the Woodbury family was away on business, and the one remaining member of the noble family was an older gentleman who was hard of hearing and who often retired early. The servants, including many of the guards as well as Beckyann in her role as the House's magic advisor, had decided to throw a private, impromptu party in one of the storage cellars of the sprawling manor house of the powerful and rich family.

As they reached the table, Frederick set the bottle of wine down, pilfered from the Woodbury family's personal stock, and turned, taking the blonde haired mage up in his arms again and holding her tightly. The two had met half a year ago, when Beckyann first arrived at the manor house to begin her service to the Woodbury family. Although Frederick would likely be given a commission in Lordaeron's military one day after his work with the Woodbury's was completed, the two had instantly hit it off and begun to have a courtship secretly. The rich Woodbury's would not have approved, but the two lovers cared little about such things and stole moments like this whenever they could.

"A lovely party," Beckyann said as she pulled back. She looked up at the guard captain, her heart racing a bit.

"Any party, any event, would be lovely if you were there my heart," Frederick replied. With that, he took one of Beckyann's hands in his and with a joking air of formality, bowed and said, "Would m'Lady care to dance?"

Giggling, Beckyann nodded and the two stepped towards the middle of the dance floor where other servants of the House had already taken up a lively dance.

*********************************

*Several months later, Lordaeron. The plague of undeath spreads.*

"You cannot do this Becky," Frederick said, his tone stern. He looked out of the window of her bedchambers, the view a breathtaking sight of Lordaeron's capital. "It's far too dangerous."

Beckyann rolled her eyes, snorting a bit and placing her hands on her hips, "You know full well that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Besides, the Family told me I would be well rewarded for my work, and imagine what good I could do if I discover the source of this plague?"

Frederick turned, moving towards the woman, concern on his face. He gently reached out, his arms running up hers, "I am afraid for you. Afraid for our nation as a whole. What reports I've heard...Becky, people are getting sick. They're dying everywhere. And you're going to go out into the heart of that, because those pompous bastards think they can just throw money at any problems they have. You are not a priestess or a healer. You don't know what you might be walking into."

Beckyann sighed, leaning forward to kiss the captain's cheek, "I know love, but you will be there with me yes? They said I could take as many men-at-arms as I need. I know I'll be safe with you by my side."

Frederick sighed, wrapping his arms around the stubborn woman and holding her tight, "I pray to the Light that's the truth Becky. I am only a man, not a paladin. I don't know what I can do, but I swear I will always be by your side."

Smiling up at him, Beckyann snuggled close against his chest and nodded, "I know, and I with you my heart."

************************************

*Several weeks later, Lordaeron. The Plaguewood.*

Her spells were faltering. There were simply too many of them. No matter how many she cut down with magic, there seemed to just be an endless tide of them. They came from the houses that seemed to be abandoned. They came from the forests. They walked across the fields. Every step, every minute they hounded the party, their pitiful moans and horrible visages giving them no rest, no quarter.

The dead were relentless.

"Frederick! I can't hold them back much longer," Beckyann cried, a fireball flying from her hand and exploding amongst the corpses that pressed in all around them. The dead fell, burning and going to their final rest, but there were always more. Always so many more to replace those they had cut down. Beckyann turned, seeing the middle of their small knot of fighters start to falter as another of the men-at-arms was overwhelmed, the dead bearing him to the ground. His screams echoed over the sound of combat and the crackle of flames.

No one answered Beckyann's cries as she hurled another ball of fire. The entire situation had spun out of control, the forces of the undead being much more powerful and dangerous than she'd ever imagined. And it was her fault that they were here. It was by her insistence they had pressed onward, even though she'd already obtained more than enough evidence to show that the plague had no cure, had no solution other than to flee and let it burn itself out. Even though the dead had gathered in ever greater numbers as their party pressed on into the most infected regions of their failing nation.

A ghoul clawed at her, it's talons tearing the sleeve of her powder-blue dress. She turned, a gout of fire incinerating the creature as she expended the dregs of her magical energy. She needed time to rest, time to study her spellbook, time to THINK. But the dead needed no such comforts, and they continued to press on, taking more of the men-at-arms down, cutting their lines in two.

In a panic, Beckyann realized that she and two of the men-at-arms had been separated from the rest of the group as the dead pushed in and killed several of her guardians. She whirled, looking back towards where the Woodbury family banner still flew, her green eyes catching a glimpse of Frederick as he cut down a ghoul. She cried out, desperation in her voice, "Frederick! Help me! My magic's expended!"

He heard her finally, his helm turning in her direction. Several of the other men-at-arms tried to force their way towards the stranded members of their party, but two of them fell in a moment's time as a dark spell lashed into them. Beckyann whirled, her eyes wide as she saw living humans striding amongst the zombies and ghouls, their faces tattooed with dark runes and black magic on their fingertips. Some sort of cultists, there to help tip the battle for their unthinking allies.

"Help! Help! Frederick!" she cried, turning again. Her heart sank as she saw Frederick standing amongst his men, his helm off now after his armor had been gashed by the attack of a ghoul. There was fear on his face as he eyed the spellcasters; he had always been uncomfortable with magic, even her magic.

Another spell landed, incinerating one of his men and making his flesh decay in moments. Frederick grew pale, his sword coming up. In that moment, Beckyann knew she was doomed. "Fall back! Fall back and regroup!"

A horn sounded, calling for the retreat of the men-at-arms. Beckyann could only watch, stunned into immobility as her beloved lead his men away from the fray, even as the last two soldiers with her were brought down by ghouls. "FREDERICK!" she screamed. "DON'T LEAVE ME HERE! FOR THE LOVE OF THE LIGHT DON'T LEAVE ME! PLEASE!"

Hands clamped down on her shoulders, the living hands of cultists who were all too eager to get theirs hands on a living captive. Beckyann screamed again, her cries carrying over the battlefield. Some of the men-at-arms winced, but they continued their retreat, the horn continued to sound.

And Frederick turned away, abandoning her.

The hands jerked her back as she reached out for him, the distance between them impossible now. And then a sack was pulled over her head, and blackness descended.

*********************************************

*Current Day, Acherus*

Beckyann jerked up out of her bed, her last screams still echoing from the stone of her bedchamber and throughout the halls around her. Acherus was normally filled with screams and moans, so hers made little impact on the residents there.

She held her hands to her face, irritated to note that they were trembling. When she lay herself down at night to regenerate, she almost never slept or dreamed. That was for the living. Normally she would lie still, letting the energy rejuvenate her corpse, making her appear youthful and almost alive.

But not this time. This time, a memory had come flooding back, trapping her in a nightmare of her former life. Thoughts she never wanted to recall again came flooding back, and emotions that she had difficulty identifying in her current state.With a growl, the blonde dead woman rose from her bed, taking up her runesword and heading for the armory; perhaps slicing up some practice dummies, or ghouls, would make the memories go away.

Somehow, she knew in the back of her mind that it wouldn't help. That they were a part of her, a curse to carry forever. The price of immortality, and of the failure of her plans and her love.