Jump to content

Danse Macabre

Grim Squeaker

Recommended Posts



It was just as the last portal crumbled to ash that she realised what was lying on the table in front of her. Across the blood-stained room, he lay there dead. At first, she couldn't quite believe it. Despite everything that had happened since they had been captured, deep down she thought he was still alive, locked away in a cell somewhere in this dank and uninviting dungeon. And in a moment, all those hopes were shattered.


They wrapped his body in a cloth lying in the corner of the room and carried him to the exit of that place. While Kalen and the others fought off waves of goblins, duergar and thieves, she stood there defending the mutilated body of her husband. She had not been able to prevent what had already been done to him, but she swore to herself that no-one was going to touch him again.


She was the only one not pleased as the first rays of sunlight hit them. While the others celebrated their escape from the mage's dark enclave, she could barely find a smile to fight back the tears still running down her face. For if they were truly back to the surface and still his body was there in her arms, it meant it was real. It meant that he was truly gone and that there was nothing she could do to be with him again, until nature let her pass from the world.


They buried his body in a small tomb in that city. Wrapped in the cloth they had carried him in, his body was hidden away in that place; away from those who would violate his remains by stealing what possessions were left buried with him. As the door closed, one final tear ran down her cheek, and in that moment, she said her last goodbyes.


Khalid was dead.

Link to comment

Chapter 1


Months had passed since that day. She and her friends were now in the employ of a man named Bayle. He was an associate of the Shadow Thieves, one of the guilds that stalked the dark streets of Athkatla, fighting a bloody war over control of the city. She didn't like him. She had never liked men of his kind, but she knew that this man was the only one who could help them rescue Imoen from the mage.


However, his assistance was not a charitable act. Nowhere in Bayle's heart was compassion for Kalen or guilt over the Shadow Thieves' role in any of this. There was only one reason Bayle was helping them and that was money. And that was the reason they were in the keep belonging to Lord de'Arnise, fighting the never-ending and seemingly un-killable trolls that had taken control of it. The Lord's daughter, a young woman named Nalia had hired them for this task and promised a large sum of coin in return for their services. Bayle would be pleased; assuming any of them survived the encounter.


It was there, in that troll infested keep that they found the flute. It was quite a simple thing really, a small musical instrument carved out of bone. The curious thing about the item was the lack of any holes for the user to play it with, just a mouthpiece for the musician to place his lips to. Despite its apparent simplicity, there was something strange about the item. Something unnatural. The instrument was clearly not for the common bard to entertain with, and there was no indication of its actual purpose other than a small section of writing on its side. Scraped into the bone were the words:


Walk with us;

Bones and ashes.

Song of silence.

Rapture of the grave.


None of the group had wanted to carry it back to the city, and if they weren't so desperate for money to pay for Bayle's services, perhaps they might have left it in the dungeons below the de'Arnise Hold. But all magical items are of worth to someone and Athkatla was home to more merchants with knowledge of rare and unusual items than any other city she had been to. So despite her misgivings about them item, she tucked the flute into her pack, not to be taken out until they were back in the city.


She had never enjoyed resting in dungeons, especially those with creatures still dwelling in them. Despite years of adventuring she always required some kind of reassurance before she could rest her head and close her eyes without worries. Khalid had always been the one she turned to, but now he was gone, buried in a tomb far away from her. So that night she turned to Kalen, her closest friend, for words of comfort before resting. She had known him for many years, ever since she and Khalid had been asked by the mage, Gorion, to guard Kalen if anything unexpected should happen. Just a few days after that conversation, Gorion was murdered and Kalen, frightened for his life and barely able to swing a sword, had come to them for help. So much had changed since that day, and now it was her, not he, who was frightened in the dark, without the one they had come to depend on for help.


He wasn't quite sure what to say to her, nor was she entirely sure what she wanted him to say, but in all the confusion that evening, she realised something. That he was there for her, no matter how bad things seemed. As the others lay down and drifted away, the two of them sat there talking, huddled in their blankets for warmth as there was very little with which to start a fire. With all that had happened recently, she hadn't had much of a chance to talk to Kalen, nor had she wanted to especially, knowing that the first thing he would say would be about Khalid. The grief of Khalid's death was still too much for her to talk to anyone about, and the last thing she needed were empty words of condolence. To her surprise however, after a few minutes of uncomfortable small talk she began to realise that Kalen was the one person she could talk to. About anything. About everything. Kalen understood what she was going through more than any of the others, and somehow knew exactly what things not to mention.


After a few hours talking they realised that soon they would have to get up and so the two of them settled down to get what little sleep they had time for. His words had made her forget her worries and she lay there for a while watching him sleep, breathing rhythmically. As the last embers of the fire disappeared, the room plunged into darkness and a shiver once again ran through her. Without even thinking about it, she shuffled across the cold stone floor to where Kalen was resting. Then, taking his hand in hers, she wrapped his arm around her, not wanting to be alone in the dark.

Link to comment

Chapter 2


She awoke that morning to find herself exactly where she had fallen asleep, lying next to him, with an arm wrapped around her body, holding her close. She then realized what this meant, what unconsciously the previous night she had decided in her mind. That Kalen was more to her than a friend and that somehow he had filled the gap that Khalid had left in her life.


Khalid. Her thoughts turned to the mage's dungeon. To finding her husband's body and realizing that he was gone. That day was months ago and somehow she had moved on. But what was months compared to all the years they had spent together? How could she have forgotten him that quickly? Forgotten? She barely realized that was how she'd thought about it. She swore to herself that day that she would never forget about him, that no matter what happened, Khalid would always be there in her heart and now, only months later she had made this decision.


Looking around her, she realized that none of the others were awake, that if she got up now, maybe she could forget about last night. Maybe no-one else would know what had happened. Perhaps Kalen never woke in the night. Never opened his eyes to see her there. Maybe it could all have been a dream and life could carry on the way it had these past months. Reaching out to move Kalen's arm, she took his hand and in that moment as her fingers touched his, it all came flooding back. She remembered how good it had felt last night to feel him there, between her and the darkness. Wouldn't life be better with him there? Couldn't it work like this, with the two of them together? Khalid...


Closing her eyes and trying to block out the images that were running through her mind, she shuffled away from him, letting his arm lie down in that space she had rested in. That space she wanted to still be in. She stood up and looked down at his face, just for a moment, trying to think of him how he was before. A friend. A comrade she traveled with. The man... the boy she was asked to protect. But none of it helped. She realized that last night she had stepped through a door. A door she couldn't go back through, no matter how hard she tried. He was there, and last night she wanted him. And today she still did.

Link to comment

Chapter 3


The rest of that day, she did what she had to. She pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind and concentrated on the task at hand. They were still below a troll infested stronghold and they had a job to do. A job they were being paid to do, so they could rescue their friend. She had always known that if she let her mind wander for even a moment, if could mean her death, and this was no exception.


The keep was being controlled by a powerful troll named Tor'gal. This creature had led the troll forces there and killed Nalia's father, for some reason they would never know. The beast had refused to reason, and after a bloody battle the invaders were finally defeated. They had done what they were paid to do, but looking around she knew this was no victory. Lying there on the ground was body of Nalia's father, Lord de'Arnise, his body beaten and his neck snapped. She turned around to see the girl's horrified face. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Nalia ran towards her father's body as if there was something she could still do to save him. Another body. Another good person dead for no reason.


She could barely look at Nalia during that time. To see the girl cradling her father's body the way that she had held Khalid's before they buried him in that tomb. That tomb far away from where he should have been laid to rest. Looking up from the floor, she saw Kalen standing across the room from her, his eyes closed in prayer. They hadn't spoken since last night. In fact, she had been avoiding him since that morning, afraid of what he might say if he did remember what had happened. What should never have happened.


They spent that night in the few clean rooms of the castle. Kalen had offered to set up camp in the courtyard but Nalia insisted that they stay one night in her home, as part of their reward. Their reward. Every time she thought about getting paid for what they did, a shiver ran down her spine. Nalia's father was dead along with almost every guard and servant that had lived there. The castle was an eerie, empty place. Walking to her room, she could almost feel the souls of the dead echoing throughout the walls. Every tapestry seemed faded, every decoration tarnished. The castle was dying and she wondered how Nalia could stay there after all that had happened.


She closed the door to her room behind her and slid the bolt into place. She knew the castle was now safe, that every troll was dead. But no matter how safe she felt in a place, it was never quite safe enough. Sitting down on the bed, she stared at the wall, her thoughts wandering to the previous night. She had avoided Kalen for that entire day. Not a word, not a glance had passed between the two of them, and she knew that was for the best. But she also knew that things couldn't stay that way. No matter how she felt, she couldn't simply block him out of her life and hope that her feelings would go away. It was much more complicated than that. Things were always more complicated.


Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Uncertain of whom it might be she cautiously picked up a silver dagger lying on the desk and slowly slid back the bolt. Seeing him standing there, a weak smile on his lips, her heart began to race.

Link to comment

Chapter 4


The candles flickered in the dimly lit room as they sat there for what seemed like hours. Every time she glanced up to look at his nervous face, her mouth began to open but no words came. What could she possibly say to him? Could she lie to him? Could she just say she needed comforting but that was all? That she was scared and needed a friend to turn to? A friend. Could she tell him that's all she wanted him to be?


But that was all a lie. A lie she could barely to tell to herself, let alone him. But how could she tell him the truth? How could she tell him that for a moment she'd forgotten all about Khalid and in that moment, something sparked in her? Something which wouldn't go away. She wanted him. She needed him. More than anything.


Then, as she was lost in her thoughts, he spoke:



Link to comment

Chapter 5


The trip back to the city was uneventful. Nalia had kept to herself, not wanting to talk about what had happened in the keep. Not wanting to talk about the fact that the man she was betrothed to and despised now owned the castle she had grown up in. And Nalia was not the only one keeping to herself. They all had a lot on their minds.


The promenade was surprisingly empty. Perhaps the disruption that the mage and cowled wizards had caused had scared off most of the people. Perhaps something had happened while they had been away. They would have to investigate later, but first they had an almost ritual task to perform. Dumping their gear in a nearby inn, they sat down to the regular chore of sorting through the various magical items they had picked up during their travels. There was the usual array of arrows, quarrels and daggers with minor enchantments, none of which they needed. According to Nalia, who they trusted on the matter, given that none of the others had much skill in the area, they did have a few items which might be worth something: Some kind of sword, an interesting engraved shield, a jewel-encrusted talisman. However the only opinion that would count would be the merchant in question.


There was only one peddler of magical items that she trusted in this city: the owner of the Adventurer's Mart, Ribald Barterman. They'd known each other for many years and she valued his friendship as well as his honesty in their dealings. Ribald was more than pleased when Kalen emptied out their bags on his counter and they received a fare amount of coin in return. She could see Kalen's smile as the coin changed hands, not out of greed but at the hope that soon he might see Imoen again.


With business out of the way, they proceeded to usual chore of stocking up on various necessary supplies: wineskins, arrows, food for the hamster that their comrade carried. Then, as she was finishing repacking her bag she felt it. The eerie touch of bone against her fingers. The flute. Taking it out carefully, she stared at it in the light. Suddenly, a cold breeze rushed in under the wooden doors of the store, blowing out the various candles standing about the room. Spinning around in confusion, Ribald stared at her and at the item in her hands.


Taking them into a small room in the back of the store, the half-elf began rummaging through the various dusty tomes scattered on a small desk. She glanced across at Kalen, who was looking equally confused by the situation. But there was more than that. In his eyes, she could see something else: fear. And she felt it as well. From the moment they found the instrument in the keep dungeons she knew there was something wrong about it. Something evil.


With a solemn look on his face, Ribald opened up a large book and placed it on the table for them to look at. There on the page was a simple drawing of the item and written in ancient handwriting were the words: the Danse Macabre. Repeated below its name was the short poem inscribed on the flute itself, written in the same hand. Then, there was a simple paragraph, written hastily and not by the original scribe:


I have found only one source telling me anything of the flute's purpose, but the damn thing makes no sense:


Allies from beyond;

A price more than life itself.

Breathe carefully,

For you may wish that breath no longer.


She read the words over and over, trying to make some sense of them, but every time the page offered no answers but its eerie warning. After a moment she glanced up at Kalen, hoping perhaps that he had read something in those words that she had not. But in his eyes she could only see the same fear that now filled her. Somehow she had always known this item was enchanted with more than a simple cantrip. And now she knew something of the truth; that there was something truly terrible instilled in its hollow form.


She had agreed with Kalen's decision without taking a moment to consider it. The ancient flute needed to be sold, for none of them wanted it to stay with them. However, before Kalen could finish his offer, Ribald shook his head firmly saying in no uncertain terms that he would not even touch the item, let alone have it in his home, near his family. Kalen thanked Ribald for his help and explained how he understood his decision. Then, for some reason she didn't quite understand, as Kalen was putting the flute in his pack, she asked to carry it for him. The words had escaped her lips before she could think about her decision. Deep down inside, she didn't want Kalen to carry it. Reluctantly, he agreed.

Link to comment

Chapter 6


That evening, she couldn't sleep. Every time she began to drift away, the haunting words carved on the flute repeated in her mind.


Walk with us;

Bones and ashes.

Song of silence.

Rapture of the grave.


Those words, practically screaming in her ears. She could almost feel it calling to her from her pack on the floor. Unable to take it anymore she got up and ran out of her room, slamming the door behind her. She stood there for a moment with back to the door, the cold sweat running down her forehead and panting for breath.


Breathe carefully,

For you may wish that breath no longer.


Instinctively she closed her eyes, trying to wish the words out of her mind. But to no avail. She was alone in that dark corridor, with the haunting words of the Danse Macabre in her mind. And then, opening her eyes, her thoughts returned and she knew what she needed. What she needed to be safe from that darkness.


His door opened slowly, and there he was standing, inviting her in. Without thinking about it, she collapsed into his arms, quietly sobbing on his shoulder, unable to say a word. She could feel his arm around her waist. She could feel his body pressed against hers. She could feel his hand on her head, stroking her hair gently. And then suddenly it was all gone. All the fear and darkness had disappeared, leaving only Kalen. She looked up into his deep green eyes and knew there was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to worry about with him there.


Then, closing the door behind her, she leaned in towards him and their lips met...

Link to comment

Chapter 7


She opened her eyes to see the wall of the tavern room. To her confusion she couldn't see her pack on the floor, nor her armour resting on the chair. Then, feeling his arm wrapped round her body she turned over to see Kalen resting there, fast asleep. And then she remembered everything that had happened the night before. She remembered their lips meeting and his hands caressing her body. She remembered the exhilaration of him undressing her. She remembered that sinful moment of bliss. What had she done?


Khalid. Not even a year had passed since his death at the hands of the mage. He wasn't even cold in the ground and now she was lying there, next to her new lover. The boy that together they had sworn to protect. How could she have done this? How could she dishonour his memory like this?


Her thoughts were interrupted by the murmurs of Kalen waking up. Afraid to look him in the eyes she turned away, fixing her eyes on the wall, as she had after waking up. Opening his eyes and seeing her lying next to him, he planted a delicate kiss on her cheek. She could feel the warmth of his kiss and still afraid to look at him, raised a hand to her cheek to feel the moist mark left from his touch.


Then she felt a hand upon hers, and heard a pleasant whisper in her ear:



Link to comment

Chapter 8


Bayle was pleased by his payment and informed them that they should visit the Shadow Thief guild hall in the docks district. They had passed the building before now, but never entered for fear of being attacked in part of the guild war that was ravaging the city. But now, the only path to Imoen lay within that building and meeting with one of the most powerful men in the city: the Shadowmaster, Aran Linvail.


At a glance the entrance to the sanctuary below the main building was relatively unguarded but as they walked through the echoing stone passageways she was certain that at any moment a dozen thieves could strike out of the shadows. She didn't feel safe in this place. She didn't trust any of the guards that welcomed them inside. The thieves had their money and thus had no reason to keep their end of the bargain. This was a dangerous game Kalen was playing, but she trusted him to make the right decision.


Finally, they reached the end of the passageway and were welcomed through an entranceway by another sinister-looking guard. And there, sitting in the shadows was a simple looking man, with his fingers arched together in contemplation. His black cloak blended him seamlessly into the shadows, but under his cloak she was sure she could see dark green armour with elven rules carved into it. This man was rich, powerful and most of all, dangerous.


The task seemed simple enough: meet with an associate of Linvail's at the docks and protect a shipment of unspecified cargo. The lack of details and apparent simplicity of the task made her extremely worried. Why would Linvail assign them the trivial task of receiving cargo? There had to be more to it than that. And there was. Linvail's associate had discovered the drop-off point was being spied upon by a member of the rival guild and suggested setting up an ambush to deal with the enemy agent. Kalen was unsure of the plan but given the lack of other options, eventually agreed.


And so the trap was set. The cargo was the bait and they were the noose. In theory, it should have been easy enough. Almost half a dozen of them against one enemy spy. The moment she saw the enemy, she began to have doubts about the plan. There was something disturbing about this man. The way he moved. The way he watched from the shadows without moving a muscle. She could have sworn he wasn't even breathing. It was then he approached them that she realized the horror with which they were faced.


Linvail's associate was dead before they realized what was happening. The enemy had sunk his teeth into her neck before they had any idea of the opponent they faced. As the vampire released her, her cold, lifeless body slipped to the ground. The enemy looked up with a wicked smile on his face, the thief's blood trickling from his black lips. Before she could stop him, Kalen charged towards the creature, striking blow after blow against its pale, stone-like skin, but to no effect. Laughing menacingly he lifted Kalen up by his throat and threw him against the ground. Forgetting that her life was also in danger she quickly ran to his body, frantically trying to heal the gushing head wounds he'd suffered on landing.


All Nalia could do was stand there in terror. While traveling with them, she'd fought orcs, bandits and trolls but nothing had prepared her for the horror of the undead fiend standing in front of her. The vampire smiled at the quivering girl before charging towards her at lightning speed. In a desperate attempt to protect her, Minsc, the human fortress, practically leapt in front of the creature, but was easily knocked aside. With no-one between her and the vampire, Nalia collapsed to her knees, sobbing.


It was over before she realized what was happening. Looking up from Kalen's wounded body her eyes could only concentrate on the tears running down Nalia's face as the creature picked her up by throat as it had done to Kalen before her. But instead of simply throwing her down, it lunged for her throat, spraying blood across the stairway wall. All she could do was watch as it snapped the girl's neck as the final insult and dropped her lifeless body to the ground. In that moment, she knew that she wouldn't survive this encounter. After all that had happened, all the work they had done to raise Bayle's fee, this first 'simple' task for Linvail would be the last thing she'd ever do. The vampire slowly stepped towards her and she closed her eyes awaiting the end.


Then, she heard an unholy shriek of pain and opened her eyes to see the Rasheman ranger's bloody sword bursting through the vampire's chest. Looking down at its wound, it snarled at her before seemingly evaporating into mist and dissipating into the night. She knelt there for a moment, stunned at what had just occurred. She looked down at her beaten lover and then across the dock at the bloody and lifeless body of Nalia de'Arnise.

Link to comment

Chapter 9


Linvail did not apologize for what had transpired, but simply offered an opportunity to wreak revenge on those that had done this: the vampire guild. He informed them that he had recently learnt the location of the guild's base and said that should they want to avenge their fallen comrade, that would be the place to go. Kalen, still recovering from his injuries, agreed without hesitation that the guild must pay for Nalia's death. And, even though she had never truly believed in the idea of revenge before Khalid's death, she also agreed to this plan. They would strike the following night.


She and Kalen did not speak much that evening. The funeral was kept as simple as possible. Nalia had never cared for the rich abusing their coin, and they were sure she would prefer the money to be spent helping others, not wasted on her. As Nalia's body was lowered into the ground, she instinctively reached out for Kalen's hand, needing comfort in the death of yet another in so short a time. As their fingers touched, she turned to him, hoping for a smile of reassurance. However, Kalen's eyes were fixed on the body of their friend, and his expression was far from a smile.


Afterwards, they retired to the tavern, making the occasional toast to Nalia, but mostly just sitting in quiet contemplation. The ranger soon retired for the night, perhaps not in the mood for drinking, leaving she and Kalen at their table. Every so often, they would glance up at each other or stroke the other's hand affectionately, but neither of them could muster the strength to actually say anything. And so they sat there for the rest of the evening, hand in hand, the occasional tear dropping into their empty glasses, remembering their friend.

Link to comment

Chapter 10


The cold wind bit at their exposed skin as they entered the deserted graveyard. The only sounds they could hear was the wind howling and the rustling of the few bouquets of flowers left near freshly dug graves. Linvail had informed them that the guildhall rested beneath a tomb on the far side of the graveyard. Every step on the stone tiles leading to the tomb echoed throughout the lifeless district. Spotting the tomb in question, Kalen turned to her, as if checking whether she was ready. Offering his hand a small squeeze in reply, they walked together towards the tomb, with their human fortress following close behind.


They stood there for a short time in front of the door Linvail described, attempting to muster the courage to enter and do what had to be done. Nodding to him that she was ready he reached out his hand and pushed open the stone slab of the mausoleum. At that moment a cold, inhuman voice spoke behind them. Spinning around instinctively, they saw the cruel, soulless face of the vampire they encountered in the docks, along with two other blood-drinkers. Drawing his sword, Kalen charged towards them, quickly followed by the enraged ranger. Drawing upon nature's strength, she ran in after he lover, determined to defend him, no matter what the cost.


Linvail had provided them holy water for killing these beasts and it was obviously providing some help as their doused blades seared through the creatures' immortal flesh. However, despite their enchanted weapons the blood-drinkers' wounds quickly began to heal. She was quickly realizing that they were unlikely to defeat these three vampires, let alone an entire guild full of them.


The battle raged on. No matter how many times they ducked and parried the blows of their brutal opponents, their enemies did not seem to tire. The wounds that they had inflicted were now barely scratches and she was sure that soon they would have to flee, saving vengeance for another day.


Suddenly, Minsc was struck across the face by the razor-sharp claws of one the creatures, dropping him to the ground. Distracted by the ranger's cry, Kalen turned for a moment, providing his opponent with the opportunity to thrust a claw deep into his stomach. She watched in horror as Kalen cried out in pain and fell to his knees, clutching his chest in agony. The vampire's hollow, mocking laugh echoed throughout the graveyard as it paced around his helpless form, teasingly delaying the killing blow.


Striking her opponent as hard as possible she desperately tried to fight her way back towards her love, but to no avail. The creature was only momentarily stunned by her attack; leaving her no opportunity to save Kalen from his imminent execution. Tears began to run down her cheeks as she frantically reached into the pack on her belt for something to aid him. A potion. A throwing knife. Anything.


Bone. Reaching into her pack, all her fingers could find was the touch of bone. The hollow bone flute, which she'd carried since they found it in the dungeons beneath the keep. The Danse Macabre. The item which had instilled terror in Ribald and haunted her dreams.


Allies from beyond;

A price more than life itself.

Breathe carefully,

For you may wish that breath no longer.


Allies. She then realized that there was only one way to save her beloved, and taking out the ancient flute from her pack she placed it to her lips.


Suddenly, the air was ripped out of her lungs. The ground began to shake and human and vampire alike where thrown to the cold stone floor. Suddenly, mist began to form around them and a haunting melody began to echo around the lifeless graveyard. Giant cracks started to form in the earth, releasing an unholy wail. The sound was too much to bear and even the blood-drinkers held their hands to their ears, trying to block out the noise.


Then, out of the ground, skeletal hands reached upwards, clawing their way out of the earth that held them. Covered in chunks of rotting flesh and wielding rusted, blackened blades, these undead warriors seemed unaffected by the shaking ground and she realized it was them producing the deafening noise that paralyzed them all. A final moan came from the crater of shattered stone, and a flesh-covered creature began to rise out of the ground. She stared in horror and wonder at the foul creatures forming in front of her, terrified of what evil she had released through the flute's ancient magic.


The flesh-covered creature finally stood there in its entirety and stared at her with its rotten maggot-eaten eyes. It was at that moment she realized the full horror of what stood before her. They had buried him only a few feet from where they stood and she hadn't realized it. She'd be so concerned with Kalen and revenge for Nalia she hadn't noticed that they'd passed his tomb on the way. The tomb they buried him in only a few months ago. Standing before her was the rotting, reanimated form of her husband, Khalid.


She couldn't watch. She couldn't look at what she'd done. How she'd defiled the memory of the man she'd loved for so long. She closed her eyes and could only listen to the unholy shrieks as the vampires were slaughtered by the undead warriors. Tears flooding down her face. She couldn't bear to open her eyes and see the monster that stood before her. The unholy abomination that was once her husband.


Minutes passed and still she knelt there, trembling, unable to do anything but cry at the thought of what stood there in front of here, awaiting instructions. And then she heard the sound she had dreaded. The raspy, undead mockery of his voice:



Link to comment



He walked up the rough wooden stairs to her room. Since they returned she has stayed in that small rented room and he assumed she didn't want to be disturbed. She didn't come downstairs for dinner that night and so, concerned for her, he gathered some food and walked to her door.


Not hearing a sound he assumed she was asleep, and opened the door carefully, not wanting to wake her. Then he saw her, peacefully with her eyes closed. Her eyes still red from her tears with a length of rope around her pale neck. Seeing her hanging from the ceiling, he collapsed to his knees, the tray of food clattering on the wooden floor. Cupping his face in his hands, not wanting to look at her body, the tears flowed down his cheeks.


In that moment, the world he knew and loved collapsed around him. A thousand questions raced through his mind. All questions he would never find answers to. Finally opening his eyes, he saw a small scrap of parchment on the floor. He hesitantly reached for it, afraid of what this note might hold. Afraid of knowing any of those answers. And there, written on the tear stained paper were two words: I'm sorry. And then there was nothing. Nothing but the hollow feeling that there was nothing he could do to bring her back. Nothing he could do to be with her again.


They buried her body in a small tomb in that city. Still dressed in her clothes from that day, her body was hidden away in that place; away from those who would violate her remains by stealing what possessions were left buried with her. As the door closed, one final tear ran down his cheek, and in that moment, he said his last goodbyes.


Jaheira was dead.

Link to comment


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

This topic is now closed to further replies.
  • Create New...