This is my submission for writing jam #2 entitled Bones of the old world. Microsoft word gives 2,999 words and wordcounter.net gives 2,996.
Prompt used was Bones.
**
“Can we talk?”
I shuddered as I felt the wind shift, as it always did when she appeared. No matter where, no matter when, if she chose to materialize so that I could see her, there was always a frigid wind that cut through to my bones.
I stopped in my tracks. It was twilight, and a few flickers of quickly dimming daylight remained, glowing like dying embers on the horizon. It was the solstice, and while many people would start merrymaking and celebrating the longest night of the year, I was bushwhacking along a forgotten game trail, the miniature ghost of a young woman hovering over my shoulder.
“Is this the right time for this?” I asked, pushing aside branches and stepping over a fallen log.
“I need to say I’m sorry,” she said.
“We’ve gone over this. You’ve apologized so many times; I’ve lost count.”
She floated directly in front of my face, forcing me to stop completely.
“If I hadn’t cursed you, you’d be home right now, celebrating the solstice with your family.”
“I have to press on,” I said, ignoring the comment. “You told me yourself, this has to be done tonight. We’ve made arrangements for the Duke’s cook to drug the mulled wine, and you said it was important that it had to be done on the solstice.”
“I know,” she nodded. “My connection to this world—to my remains—is the strongest on this night. But a few minutes here and now won’t make a difference.”
I thought about the small pouch of pulverized bone that I carried in a satchel around my neck. It was all that was left of her body. A quick image of the gruesome procedure to get her body to that state flashed in my mind.
“I’m not sure what else there is to say,” I slowly continued forward, brushing past her small floating figure. “We are here now, and the only way for either of us to rest is for you to receive your vengeance. Besides, if I stop moving now, I’ll never make it to the Duke’s manor before freezing to death.”
She floated to the front of my face again, however this time allowing me to keep moving through the bush by hovering backward as I continued along the game trail.
“Do not make jokes about freezing to death!” she warned. Her eyes flashed for a moment.
“You know I wouldn’t make a joke about that,” I snapped back.
I stopped. “I’m sorry; I know that’s a sensitive subject... for the both of us.”
**
The Young Duke was eager to prove himself a leader upon claiming his hereditary title following the death of his father. Even more so, he was eager to gain favor with the heads of the new religion, the followers of which had made certain arrangements to speed up his ascension to Dukedom.
To show his dedication to the new faith, the Duke first targeted the covens - those least prepared to fight back against the hammer of the new dogma falling on the land.
He took his men and swept through the land. His goal was to cleanse the land of “heresy” and make way for the monks of the new faith to move in.
She was a victim of one of the assaults. When the alarm was raised that the coven was under attack, she was instructed to gather the children and hide with them underneath a false floor that had been prepared for such an occasion. She had huddled with them, keeping them quiet as the horrific sound of slaughter and looting echoed through the air.
She stayed with them for hours, waiting for the sounds of the dying to fade. When she emerged from the hiding spot to see if it was safe, she found herself quickly surrounded by the Duke’s men.
They grabbed her, and the building was burned. She was tied behind the Duke’s horse and was made to walk as the screams of the youth echoed through the night.
“Merely the cries of rats,” the Duke sneered, and the building was engulfed in flame. “Those who do not follow the new light deserve to burn. Even their youth must be purged.”
“Put the blade to me,” she cried. “Let me join my people.”
“Oh, you will join them soon enough,” he gave a sickly smile. “But our faith demands sacrifice, and I think a pretty young thing like you will do wonderfully.”
Eventually, she found herself on the edge of a cliff, a river raging below. If the fall wouldn’t kill her, the raging icy depths certainly would.
A holy man of the new faith stepped forward, waving around some sort of symbolic fetish as he muttered in a strange tongue.
“Be glad,” the Duke said. “Your soul is being cleansed. You will face death with a sinless heart. After all, what good is a sacrifice that has been tainted by sin? Our deity will not accept anything less.”
“This is what your faith is?” she questioned, her back to the cliff’s edge. “Old men speaking gibberish? Pointless gestures and symbols? You killed people, you killed CHILDREN for this?”
“You dance under the moon,” the Duke retorted. “You tell old tales in an ancient language. You bind people to the land, to the past. You talk about having magic in your bones. Our way is the future.”
She scoffed. The trauma of the events was turning into a dark bitterness. She was angry—no, she was enraged at how unfair all this was.
The old man put away his symbols and ceased his gibbering.
“Now, jump,” the Duke said. “I can’t have the death of a cleansed soul on my conscience.”
“That’s your plan?” she spat. “A loophole so you don’t have to bloody your own hands? What kind of pathetic god would overlook such foolishness.”
“You told me you wanted to join your people,” the Duke said, unaffected by her comment. “So, go ahead.”
“This will not end well for you,” she said. She spread her arms and fell backward, plunging into the raging water below.
**
I squat at the side of the river, washing my hands free of the blood from butchering my most recent kill.
It had been a harsh winter, and the village was running low on food. I and the other youths had been dispatched a few days ago, sent out to hunt once the snow had melted enough for us to travel. Game seemed to be getting scarcer every year.
Something drew my attention upriver. Something was floating towards me.
Once I realized I was looking at a person, I quickly dove into the river, angling to catch the body as it passed by.
Breathless from the effort, I slung the unfortunate individual onto the bank.
It was a woman, covered in cuts and bruises. She was very pale, but still breathing. Something told me that she wasn’t long for the world.
I quickly pulled her over to the fire and did my best to comfort her while she passed. She was ice-cold. I felt pity for the poor girl, but I had seen death come upon members of my village, and there was very little that I could do.
I was leaning over her to check her pulse when her eyes flickered open, locking on me. She grabbed my arm with an unnatural strength.
“I curse you. For all that is natural in this world, I curse you. You will never rest until justice has been done.”
Her grip relaxed, and I saw the last essence of her life drain from her eyes.
I shook my head. I wasn’t sure what had happened to that girl, but her last moments were those of rage and anger. I just hoped that in the next world, she could find peace.
I buried her next to the river and packed my horse, fully intent on returning to the village with my kill. I’d have an odd tale to tell for sure.
I began to ride towards home. It was late in the day, but I was sure I could make good time on horseback, perhaps even getting back before dark.
My mind drifted, and I thought of the warmth of my bedding.
And then found myself emerging back at the riverside, the freshly dug grave before me.
I had grown up in the surrounding forests. Getting lost or getting turned around could literally be a death sentence, and yet, here I was, back where I started with no sense of how that happened.
I felt a chill run down my spine. There was something unnatural going on, and the grave had something to do with it.
I decided to unpack my horse and camp at the riverside for the night. Maybe whatever was preventing my departure would ease up by morning. I unrolled my bedroll and checked over my bow and my current supply of arrows. Finally, sleep took me. I found myself floating in a void of nothingness. No sound, no light, just terrifying black.
Then a voice.
“I.... I’m sorry.”
A figure floated before me. It was the woman that I had pulled from the river. The edges of her figure seemed to be in flux, somehow being wicked away by something ethereal.
Unlike a typical dream, I felt very much awake and in control of myself.
“You’re that woman...” I said, unsure of how to proceed.
“I am, and I’ve done a horrible thing.”
“Horrible?”
“I’ve cursed you, I’ve bound you to my body.”
I had heard tales of curses. Always taking place in some old story in some ancient land. Now, I seemed to be part of one of those tales.
“Cursed? Is that why I can’t seem to leave this riverbank?”
The floating figure nodded, looking sad.
“Why? I tried to save you?”
“In that final moment, as death approached, I was confused, I was angry. I thought you were one of the ones that did that to me. I wanted vengeance and in those final moments, I unleashed all my hatred on you.”
I shook my head. “Who are you to curse me?”
“I was part of a coven,” she said. “I worship the old ways.”
“Can you release me? You know I did nothing to you.”
“I’m afraid that you are bound to my body. The magic of the old ways becomes embedded in our bones. It’s an... old spell to keep a murderer from fleeing should one of our coven fall.”
“I’m not a murderer though.”
“No, you’re not. I was so filled with anger; I wanted to strike out at someone... anyone. The only way to be free is for you to enact my vengeance.”
We talked through the night. She told me of the attack on the coven and the deeds of the Duke.
“It will be hard for me to do anything stuck on this riverbank with your body. Let alone help you get your vengeance - as deserved as I think it is.”
“You are a hunter, yes? You know how to butcher a creature? Break it down into meat and bone?”
“Yes, but...”
“My power, my essence.... it’s in my bones.”
I felt myself pale at those words; I had grim work ahead of me.
**
I snapped back to the present. I now stood at the rear wall of the Duke’s manor. I could hear the laughter of seasonal merriment drifting through the cold night air.
“The drug should be taking effect soon,” the ghost whispered to me. “The effects of their drink should be a little more pronounced, and they should be none the wiser.”
“I just hope the cook did the second thing he promised. If not, all this might be for naught.”
The cook had kept his promise. I found an open door to the manor’s cellar.
I soon found my way to the upper level of the manor.
The hallway was decorated with greenery and holly to mark the season. The fact that these people brought greenery indoors seemed strange to me. If you wanted to enjoy the woods, why not just go out and take a walk in it?
I shook my head and made my way to the Duke’s bedroom, slipping inside.
A fire crackled, shadows danced across the wall.
"Better hide," the ghost said. "Once he goes to bed, we will act."
I slipped inside the walk-in closet and waited.
Finally, I heard the door open.
"And I have your assurances, sir, that you will let our clergy occupy the outlying villages once the spring comes?" One voice said.
As soon as the second voice spoke, the ghost stiffened. It was a voice she had heard before.
"Followers of our faith seem to be more obedient, and I’m more than happy to let them have whatever they need. Much better than those unfaithful savages that follow the old ways."
"Then I wish you a happy evening, Sir Duke.”
"Get ready," the ghost said.
I tensed, grabbing the special arrow from my quiver.
I heard the Duke move about the bedroom. After a time, things fell silent.
“Now,” the ghost said.
I silently opened the closet door. The fire, now much lower, cracked and popped, still emanating a dull and dying light. I could see a figure lying in the bed.
I recalled every lesson I learned as a hunter about moving silently, stealthily. I crept towards the bed.
Wordless, I plunged the arrow into where the ghost had instructed me. Before we had departed for the manor, she had been very specific about where the wound must be made. Between the ribs, the arrow slid.
The Duke bolted upright, breaking the shaft of the arrow, looking first to the wound in shock and then to me. He let forth an extremely loud wail.
I heard boots stomping up the hallway. A retinue of guards burst through the door, catching me standing over the now very injured Duke.
Even through the stupor of the wine and the drug, the guards could clearly see the assassination attempt. Before I could even think, I was grabbed and roughly carried out of the room. Shouts for the Duke’s doctor echoed down the hall.
I had failed.
**
I wasn’t sure what was colder, traversing the forest at night, or the cell I now found myself in.
I was bewildered. Beaten and thrown into a cell, I didn’t have time to process, or even think. I felt myself slipping away, drifting into an unwanted sleep.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed. The room spun, and I was sure I fell into the darkness at least a few times.
Finally, things snapped into place and I had a coherent thought. Daylight was creeping into the cell. The solstice had passed. The longest night was over.
I heard somebody stomping down the hallway. Somebody wearing a set of heavy keys was approaching.
“Leave me,” I heard the Duke’s voice say.
“But Sir...” somebody protested.
“You gave him an outright beating last night. He’s in no condition to hurt me.”
“But your wound, sir.”
“Bah, the Doctor looked at it. Barely a scratch.”
I shook my head. Barely a scratch? But I plunged the arrow straight between his ribs?
The door opened, and the Duke stepped inside. His eyes narrowed.
“Well, look at you..” he smirked. “My men certainly did a number on you.”
I tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak.
The Duke grinned, looking at my expression.
“A villager, not much older than a boy, and you thought you could take me out...”
I wanted to strike him, but my will had been sapped.
“And it worked.”
My cracked and bloody lips parted, a confused “Wha?” escaped from my lips.
The Duke’s figure glowed bright blue for a moment. The form shifted, becoming shorter and softer. Hair lengthened, and a familiar feminine form now stood across from me.
The woman from the river. She stood in front of me, more alive than I had ever seen her.
I stood with my mouth agape.
“Miss me?” she grinned.
“I’m not sure what I’m looking at..” I managed to spit out.
“You did it. The arrow that I made you forge months ago with bits of my bone sprinkled into the iron, it did the trick.”
“The power is in the bones,” she said, as if that explained everything. “Once my essence of made contact with the Duke’s heart... I was able to take control.”
“You are... the Duke?” I asked.
“When I wish to be. I can now assume his form whenever I wish.”
“And what happened... to him?”
“Oh.. He's long gone. If there’s any truth to his deity, I guess he’s with him now.”
“So, I’m free?”
She looked around the cell. “Uhh, not quite. You made an attempt on the Duke’s life after all.”
“What’s going to happen to me then?”
“Oh, the Duke will have a change of heart and pardon you in a couple of weeks, specifically when the new year is rung in. He’ll make a declaration that he will be returning to the old ways of his father.
She turned, looking to the lightening sky of the morning after the solstice.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she said. “You gave me my vengeance, and for that, I am grateful. I’ll give you any reward you wish once enough time has passed.”
I nodded, still in pain from my treatment by the guards.
She smiled sadly, looking over my wounds. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that; I’ll send the Duke’s doctor, claiming I want you in top shape for a trial.”
“In the meantime, look forward to the new year. I’m sure it will be a good one.”
She shifted her form back to that of the Duke’s, turning to leave.
“I can feel it in my bones.”