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What the Briar Remembers
fantasy◐ Mature5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
"What bell?" Mirren demanded. The blind man pointed east with a shaking arm, toward the ruined watchtower she'd been warned never to climb. "They hung it for the last war," he said. "To call the soldiers home from death. Someone is ringing it again." She sat him against the hawthorn and started east.
Mirren reached the tower and found the bell already silent, its rope cut. But something worse waited at the top: a soldier made of root and rust, fully risen, sharpening a long blade. He turned his hollow face to her. "The warden always leads the march," he said, and took her hand in his cold grip before she could run.
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