Ghosts of the Five Realms: The Rabbit and the Dryke

Epilogue

A crow perched atop the jagged remains of the royal, armored carriage in the misty, early morning. His stark feathers a sharp contrast to the pure white snow blanketing the road. He scanned the battlefield patiently for signs of life. To his delight, there were none. The scattered mounds of snow-covered flesh, steel and leather, lay still and quiet. Peaceful even.

The wreckage of the heavy armored carriage creaked and shifted slightly, startling the scavenger. A wheel rolled off its axle and slumped onto the ground with a "thud". The heavy mass of the carriage shifted again and slumped back into place. Whoever was trapped beneath it, was not strong enough to move the massive pile of wood and metal. A faint voice moaned from beneath it. It was quiet again for a moment.

"Help." said a weak voice.

The carriage moved again slightly through a feeble gesture of survival.

"Someone. Help. My foot is trapped." said the voice again in a slightly stronger tone.

Reynald pulled his leg again, attempting to free himself. He could feel progress through the pain. Much of his body was numb. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes.

"S-Someone free me immediately." He said authoritatively. "Riquier. Fendrel?" There was no reply, not even an echo. He gritted his teeth and pulled harder on his leg. His trousers tore as his leather boot released from the grasp of the heavy debris. He pushed again against the carriage above him. He was still unable to move it off of him, but he was able to take some of the weight off of his body. He freed one body part at a time as he slowly slithered his way through a gap between the carriage frame and the icy ground. The duke slumped flat into the snow staring into the sky as he caught his breath.

"Hello." rasped Reynald. He slowly made his way to his feet as he scanned the area. He wiped the blood from his face and pressed his hand on the source, a cut on the top of his head. He wrapped the other hand around his body to ward off the cold. The duke looked at his feet and noticed a fur pinned beneath the carriage. He quickly grasped it and attempted to pull it free. He pulled as hard as his numb fingers would allow. His feet gave out beneath him causing him to fall flat on his back.

"Ugh! Anybody!" screamed the duke into the cold, quiet air. He quickly rose to his feet and swung his arms wildly at whatever he could vent is frustration onto. He dropped back to his knees into the snow and clutched his body. His mind raced to make sense of his situation. Suddenly, a cracking branch to his right, past the trees, caught his attention.

His head perked up.

"Hello?" he said gingerly. "Is someone there?" He scanned the tree line carefully. There was nothing. From the corner of his eye, he saw sudden movement amongst the underbrush. He turned and squinted into the misty woods. A low hanging branch swayed as if disrupted by a fast-moving thing.

Reynald dropped to his knees and plunged his hands into the snow. He searched blindly beneath the blanket of cold, picked up a sword and held it in front of him defensively. He stepped carefully and quietly away from the wreckage until he reached the wood line then turned and darted into the forest, dodging branches and undergrowth as he ran. Another snap of a twig in the distance brought him to a halt. He panned his head from left to right, held his breath and focused his ears. A crunch of snow from behind him sent the duke sprinting ahead. He gasped for air as his muscles screamed for oxygen. He stumbled clumsily. Reynald stopped to rest against a tree. He leaned his forehead against the rough bark and breathed deeply and rapidly. A faint blue light caught his attention from his periphery. He gazed towards it trying to make sense of it. It was soothing and inviting. Reynald felt warm at its sight. He edged forward carefully at first but picked up his pace as he closed the distance.

As his eyes focused on the light, its shape began to take form. Before him walked a woman dressed in a shimmering deep grey gown. She seemed to glow as she slowly walked away from him. Her hips swayed, womanly and seductive. He stood mystified by the sight of her.

He shook himself from his trance. "I say, Madame." said the duke, limping forward, cautiously. "I am in need of assistance. We were set upon by the enemy." He spoke without blinking. Once again, he was hypnotized by the site of her. "Are you an angel?" he asked trailing off. He stepped closed to her and reached his hand out to test her tangibility. She turned to face him.

"Hello my darling." said Angoretta, affectionately. Her hair was elaborately woven and braided. The gown she wore was like nothing Reynald had ever seen on her. It was thin and silky and accentuated every line on her beautiful body. She walked through the snow with bare feet though the cold seemed to have no effect on her. "I'm so happy to see you healthy my love. I have so much to tell you. Come with me. I have a surprise."

"W-what has happened my dear? Where is Riquier? Are we all that remain of the company? Where is the prince?" said Reynald confusedly.

"All is well, my love. The prince is dead. Riquier is hunting." said Angoretta, cheerfully. "You know how my cousin enjoys sport. He will be back soon."

Reynald was focused on her but noticed shadows darting behind the trees to his left and right.

"The prince is dead?" clarified the duke. He stepped forward slowly and carefully.

"Mm-hm." confirmed the duchess. "Do you know what that means?" The two entered a small snow-covered clearing with a large stone which sat in its center. She ignored the barghests who methodically prowled the perimeter. "It means I am queen and you king, husband." Angoretta took his hand and led him to the stone. On the stone sat two crowns each made from a single piece of obsidian. Angoretta took one of the crowns and placed it atop her head. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. Her face filled with ecstasy. She turned to Reynald and reached her hand to him. From the tree line of the clearing walked three draugrs. One carried the sword of her brother, the fallen king. The hag followed close behind them. Her face bore a fresh burn which forced one eye closed, her blue gown and red hood, singed and charred black.

"Kneel, my husband." commanded Angoretta with a coy smile. She took the sword from the draugr.

Reynald fought through the pain in his leg and slowly dropped to his knees. He struggled between the seemingly present danger and the lust he felt for his wife, and this moment. His eyes darted between the draugrs and Angoretta who commanded his attention with her being.

"Bow." she said

He lowered his head.

"In the name of the royal line of Leomeria, as daughter of King Gilliad and rightful heiress of the Empire, I Angoretta, daughter of Angorak name you, Duke Reynald of Drendham – King." She touched the sword to his left shoulder. He felt the cold Lysillen graze his ear. She touched the blade to his right shoulder and lingered for a moment. She gracefully handed the sword back to the draugr and gave him a nod. Reynald took a slow, deep breath.

***

A large stone sits peacefully in a snow-covered clearing. Flakes of white, fall gently to the ground around it. Birds chirp, the wind blows softly through the trees, the sun rises in the east and the severed head of duke Reynald of Drendham sets atop the stone. His dull eyes stare blankly into infinity. He is left to rot, alone in a cold, strange place, forgotten by all but the crows. However, atop his head sits a mighty crown. A crown of obsidian. Long live the king.

*The End*