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Church of Bones	By : LuciferDragon Category: +M through R > Rise of the Guardians Views: 1334 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Rise of the Guardians world, and I make no profit at all from this fiction. All in good fun.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
21.
We emerged from the Void in the general area of the signal pulse. I pulled on Hessian's reigns as the others slowed to a halt, either on foot, on horse, or on a creature made of golden sand. A shift in the air sent a chill down my spine. It wasn't just the change in temperature as we emerged somewhere in the Czech Republic. Something was coming.
"Very clever."
I glanced at Pitch as he glared at the church before us, on the other side of a low wall. Onyx shifted uncomfortably below him and snorted. "What is this place?" Tooth asked, hovering by me.
"The Sedlec Ossuary."
I understood his unease immediately. The Sedlec Ossuary was a church with a very unique theme. All the adornments inside were the remains of 40,000 victims of the plague. The ossuary was made to house the bodies the families would bring to rest at the soil, since the bishop of the church at that time had infused the soil of the church cemetery with that of the soil from in the resting place of Jesus in Jerusalem. There were too many bodies, and so they were placed in the ossuary. Three hundred years later, the family who owned the church had someone use the bodies to create what we have today. The House of 40,000 Corpses, Sedlec Ossuary, The Church of Bones.
I had always wanted to visit it. I had seen pictures, but I could never find the time to come. I would have had plenty of time to just view and observe it, but I wanted to see the stories of the 40,000. As many as I could. When I could control tapping into the bones, the stories were pleasant. I could sift through what I wanted to see and what I didn't. In the case of the bones found in Washington, that had been an unexpected connection, and I wasn't ready for the bombardment of memories. Especially not as fresh and painful. However, even old bones like the ones inside the church could be overwhelming if I didn't handle it right.
Bunny's ears swiveled forward and he jumped ahead, his nose twitching. "Something's not right." He grabbed his boomerangs.
We each dismounted our steeds, clasping weapons in our hands. Through the dark streets across the way, I heard the slow creak of a gate opening, sending a shiver up my spine. I gripped on to my scythes as I heard growling rumbles and shuffling footsteps.
"And here I was thinking zombies would be the perfect addition to this," Jack muttered.
I nodded. "To quote an old Resident Evil film, aim for the head."
"It would only waste time," Bunny said while Sandy looked between us and the approaching walking corpses. "This is a distraction, and you know it. Get your boy. We'll keep the wankers busy." He nodded to Jack. "Help me make a hole."
We watched the zombies pile in to the street in front of us, on the other side of the low wall. If it was a distraction as Bunny suggested, then Charon knew we were there. I just hoped he wouldn't think of our idea.
Jack and Bunny rushed forward, taking out as many of them as they could down the center as they jumped over the wall. Jack froze them all and Bunny swung his boomerang through the heads, shattering them. I ran after them, not bothering to see if Pitch was following. They pushed through to the front door and the others took up the rear, knocking out any that fell in. Bunny jumped ahead and opened the door, ushering us inside. The silence and atmosphere that fell over us once the doors closed behind us was unsettling. I was too awestruck with the sight laid out before me to notice for a moment. It was morbid yes, but more beautiful than I could have imagined. Everything was aligned so intentionally and creatively, at any other moment in time I could have loved to spend ages admiring every bone. I kept my scythes at my sides as Pitch kept his large one in his hand.
He motioned forward and we used light steps over the stone floors. The walls were lined with skulls, and I made it an effort to keep some distance from them, using the dim light of thousands of candles to see. Muttering caught our ears and we slowed our steps as the edges of the infamous chandelier came into view. The muttering was in a language long since lost to the human race, one I stood no chance of knowing. He held on to my shoulders and shifted quietly away, keeping to the wall, indicating I stay there. He looked around the edge and I saw him tense up. Against his better judgment I stood by his side, looking into the main chambers. I had to put a hand to my mouth to keep silent as I saw my baby on an altar in the far side of the chamber, unconscious. A man whose back was to us was muttering in the dead language, and unsettling vibrations were emanating from the two. On the floor, under the chandelier, something had been carved. Something like a circular maze. In its center was a hole leading somewhere. Red liquid seeped around the maze, pushed along by the magic.
He gripped my upper arms and tugged me back behind the wall, into the other chamber.
I took a stabling breath. "What do we do?" I whispered, hating how my rasp was showing in full.
"He doesn't need to know we both came in," he muttered just as quiet. "Keep to the shadows. I'll keep his focus. Grab Drago the moment you have a clear shot to get away. We'll get out of this mess with as little injuries as we can."
I nodded and sank into the shadows, keeping to the darkest parts of the chambers. Luckily as a shadow I didn't have to be cautious of touching the bones. He had made a good call to not rush the necromancer. On the other side of the wall we had hidden behind, a large corpse stood, an axe in hand.
"Charon!"
The chanting stopped and I looked in time to see the figure turn. The man chuckled and dropped his hood as Pitch rounded the corner, once again unarmed. Imagine my surprise when a normal-looking human peered back. I had expected something more warped, more demonic. Charon looked like a typical man in his forties. Graying hair, lines in his skin. However, his eyes were yellow. This time, encased in black sclera. "I'm surprised you found me so quickly, Mr. Black. Only ten hours. Plus the time zone difference—"
"I'm here to collect my son." He kept his arms crossed over his chest. "Stop while you're ahead Charon. You're pissing off far more people than you know."
Charon only continued to grin and called off the guard corpse. It resumed a neutral posture while the man continued. "I do know. But it is the right time to rule as I was meant to for thousands of years." He lifted his decorated staff and struck the stone floors. "I have guarded the necromancy secrets all my life. And now it is paying off. The humans will be my people. As they should be." He swept his free hand towards Drago, still shrouded in shifting magic. "All it took was the bodies of 40,000 and the key to obtain." He glanced up, and my form sat stock still. "Once I found this place, it was only a matter of finding the lifeforce to match the bodies. Some of these souls have moved on. Most haven't. That's where the necromancers came in. And their revenants. The boy had a wise idea with recruiting the serial killers. They gave me the boost I needed once I found my key." The hand closest to Drago flexed and my boy began to flinch in pain, still sleeping. "My only problem is figuring out how to use him."
Pitch took a threatening step forward but stopped short as Drago's pain seemed to increase. He nodded and held up his hands. "If you need him, he doesn't need to be hurt."
I shifted towards the back of the chamber, keeping watch on both the corpse guard and on Charon. The man grinned. "Oh I think he does. I never thought there would be a day the Boogeyman would have a weakness. This is too rich to pass away. Now if only his mother were here to submit as well. Tell me, how good is she at that?"
Faster than I could blink Pitch vanished and reappeared beside Charon, clocking him in the jaw so hard he fell away from the altar. It gave me the opportunity to pull out of the shadows beside my son. "Drago? Honey? Come on, wake up. We have to go." I shook his shoulders and lightly slapped his cheeks, starting to panic as he wouldn't wake up. I looked around as I saw Pitch expertly fending off the man and the corpse with two black swords. "Come on, please."
I almost started laughing as the boy groaned and opened his pale yellow eyes. "Mom?"
"Oh my…" I pulled him up into my arms as I kept kneeling beside him. I pulled back, holding on to his shoulders. "Don't ever run off like that again."
"He won't."
I looked to the voice, but had no time to react as my arms were pinned to my sides by magic and I was torn from my son, lifted from the ground.
"I've heard a rumor about the Spirit of Halloween. I want to test it out."
My heart stopped as I was pushed back into a coat of arms made entirely out of bones. I could hear Drago's terrified shout as the bones made contact with my skin. Instantly memories overran my senses. All of them the last memories of each victim found in the coat. All of their last worries. I cheated on my wife and never told her; I'll never get to give her that ring now; Mommy, I don't understand. It hurts Mommy; Who will take care of my son? He's still so young; Why is my husband not here? I'm alone; I'm scared; I'm scared; I'm scared and alone;

The comment struck a nerve I hadn't expected and I moved on reflex. Which was probably how I was able to break his concentration and get him away from Drago long enough for Hana to drop down. I abandoned the idea of the scythe and formed two swords from my sands. Having a mastery in all forms of weapons came in handy from time to time. I blocked and parried a blow from the corpse and dodged a swing of Charon's staff as I knocked the axe away. I only needed to give her enough time to get the boy and go. I danced around the two in chamber, avoiding landing blows on the skeletons that would leave noticeable damage. I ducked and swerved, retaliated and landed hits, but none landed as spectacularly as the blow that took the corpse's arms. Without his arms, he couldn't block the rest of my attacks, and I was able to sever his head from the body, leaving him still once more.
Charon growled and extended his hand to me. Invisible bindings held me in place on the ground. I couldn't move. In my sight was the alter, and I saw Hana had woken Drago. The same magic held her, but tossed her back into the coat of arms. It held her there, which made me realize he knew that double-edged talent of hers. I fought against the magic.
"Charon. Stop." Drago shouted out and I winced against the magic's tight hold. I could see her face contorted in pain as the boy kept shouting. "It's enough, Charon. You'll kill her!"
He shrugged, never looking back at me. Instead he approached Drago, dragging me along with the magic. "You see, boy? Your parents have no hope of surviving me. What do you have they do not possess?" He finally let Hana fall from the sigil and let her go limp on the floor.
Through everything going on in the church, I narrowed my eyes at the boy as he had gone still and quiet, kneeling on the stone floor. He hadn't even flinched as Hana had returned right in front of him.
"Answer me, boy. I want to hear you surrender before you help me take my birthright."
He muttered something we couldn't hear and he stopped himself.
"What was that?"
"I said, I am Drago Black. I am the son of Halloween and the Boogeyman." His shape started to slip, something I had never seen it do before. Right in front of my eyes he began to unravel, becoming snapping tendrils of shadow. The magic holding me faltered and I fell to my feet. I took the chance to get away. I slipped through the shadows, feeling they had changed somehow. I formed behind Hana, trying to bring her back to consciousness. I kept my eyes on Drago, or what used to be him. I almost hesitated in waking Hana as the mass of shadows opened multiple yellow eyes at once, and a large jaw unhinged, a hiss slipping from it. "I am Sin."
The shadows grew as I took Hana's hand, still trying to revive her and bring her back to herself. She was sifting through a lot of memories, trying to recover her own. I couldn't drop my guard to help her this time.
Charon tried shooting magic through his staff as Drago's shadows advanced on the man, but the pressure had no effect. "I'm meant to rule you!"
"A prince is ruled by his king. And you are not my king." The tendrils shot forward, taking the staff from Charon's grip and snapping it. They then snatched up the man, keeping him in a solid grip. "As Sin, there is one skill I possess my parents do not. I can take away the wicked."
Charon fought in his grasp, keeping me stunned at my son's use of his own abilities. "You are a child. You couldn't possibly hold that much power."
"I don't. But it's enough." He squeezed a bit tighter, making air release from Charon's lungs. He went quiet and still for a moment, besides the motion of the shadows.
For once, I was powerless, and wasn't sure what to feel. The only thing I knew was things wouldn't be the same ever again. There was nothing I could do for him.
"Dad, I know what I have to do. Take Mom and get out of here. The spell would take you too and spread out the effect."
I frowned. "What spell?"
"Judgment." The shadows moved as if he were shaking his head. "While I was unconscious, someone showed me how. He was a nice man, bald too. He said he had one more wish to grant."
I finally understood. "You don't have to—"
"Yes I do. I'm the only one. The man showed me that." The head turned back to Charon. "I understand what it means. I understand it all. It's something I have to do, and it has to be now."
I picked Hana up as she started to wake. She looked over to the mass and shifted back in slight fear. "Drago?"
"Please don't be mad, Mommy. I know what I'm doing."
As he absorbed a screaming Charon into his shadows, he opened a Void portal under us, booting us out of the church.
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Church of Bones