A Change in the Weather

Chapter 75: Guilt

6 October, 2008 – 10:12 pm

Interlude part 3

‘Oh dear Fox.’ she said, shaking her head in mock sympathy. ‘Where is your friend and your talking gewgaw now, I wonder?’ She folded her arms.

Fox fought to choke back his tears. ‘I don’t need a sword to kill you, you murderous hag!’ he hissed. ‘I’ll kill you with my bare hands!’

‘Oh, you’ll have to be far more imaginative than that I’m afraid…’

She rolled her sleeves up and started to walk towards him. Gone was the feigned hobble and awkwardness of their last meeting. When she reached the nearside of the bridge, she stopped. Fox realised, too late, that the satchel lay on the drawbridge just out of reach over the threshold, and a panic washed over him. Without his sword or the bag he felt as good as dead.

‘Do you remember swearing the oath Fox?’ she asked, idly. ‘In the cottage?’ She raised an eyebrow and waited for his reply.

Fox shrugged. ‘I seem to recall something along those lines, yes, but I’d hardly call it swearing an oath…’

‘Oh you did Fox. That you did. You see, your desire to return home kept you on the straight path where others would have faltered, and when you finally found the stone, your purity of heart allowed you to take it. For the others, alas, did not have what you had. They tried to take the stone but, alas, died in the process.’

‘And what did you promise them in return, hmm? Your words as good as killed them, just as they very nearly killed me. And now I’m going to kill you.’

Bursting with anger, he started to run at her, but his face slammed into the dirt instead. He groaned in pain and tasted blood. He looked back at his feet - they remained rooted to the earth. No amount of effort could free them. He spat the bloody dust from his mouth, and frowned.

‘I think not.’ she snorted. ‘You may not know it, but the oath prevents you from running away or harming me. And, although I didn’t expect to find you here with a friend who the oath does not apply to, it matters little.’ She looked around at the buildings. ‘Because he’s as dead as this place now, too.’

Fox looked forlornly at the mass of fallen rubble beside him.

‘And what are you going to do with me?’ he asked, wiping the blood from his mouth.

But the words didn’t come out.

Instead, in their place came a pathetic whimpering sound. He tried to talk again, but it was just the same; nothing escaped his mouth but a sad moan. Instantly, he felt the bile rise within him, fearful as to what it meant.

‘Don’t worry Fox,’ she murmured, ‘I’m not going to kill you.’

She rooted around in the satchel and pulled out the stone, still partly wrapped in Fox’s torn shirt. She made a show of being careful so as not to touch it with her bare skin.

‘At least not just yet anyway.’ she added.

She held the stone up to the light, marvelling at it with an expression of wonder and joy. It was a rather plain-looking thing, with white veins of quartz running through it that occasionally twinkled when it caught the light.

‘Do you know what power this stone has?’ She placed the stone back in the satchel and threw it over her shoulder. ‘No? Well I’ll tell you. This stone has the power to split worlds, Fox. And half of it is mine… Even half of it is more than enough power to rule.’

She patted the stone. ‘I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I seem to recall that I promised that I would send you home, did I not?’

She looked at him with a patronising smile.

‘Well, I lied. I have no desire to visit your world any more than your desire to stay in mine.’

Inside, Fox was drowning in despair. He wanted more than anything to be anywhere but here, but his feet were firmly rooted to the spot.

‘Do you remember my sisters?’ she asked, gesturing to the wolves. They looked impatient and hungry. ‘My sisters would like to meet you Fox.’ she said. ‘Or eat you. I’m not certain which it was…’

Fox whimpered.

She started to cackle with laughter.

He looked with growing fear at the eight large wolves that had massed on the far side of the drawbridge. He was having trouble seeing though, his vision had become rather monochromatic, but he couldn’t say for certain why. Even now, he couldn’t actually remember what colours looked like.

And then he looked down at his paws, and his heart began to beat faster and faster…

* * * * *

Hillary had managed to keep the staff’s circle of protection alive just long enough to figure out his next step. It had done its job admirably - taking the brunt of the weight of the stone above it - but now he could feel the spell start to work lose and waiver; feel it start to collapse back in on itself.

Frustratingly, he had no idea if he’d managed to push Fox out of the way either. For all he knew his friend was entombed under the stone with him, except without the protection of a spell. As he looked down, Kaliburn lay there in the dust, and with his free hand he reached down and grabbed it.

He had little time to spare, so he started to call up the spell. Judging by the tinkle of debris and the ominous grinding sound above him, one attempt was all he was going to get, so he needed to work quickly.

When he finished mouthing the ancient words, he gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes up and waited.

And then it happened; the rubble that had buried him scattered outwards like an explosion, showering debris all around once more. In a moment he was free, and could feel the sun and the wind once more.

He stayed crouched for a moment though, holding his staff upright as the last vestiges of magic drained from it, forking into the sky like lightning. For a second the envelope of the spell of protection was visible as a silvery translucent bubble before it collapsed into the staff once more.

He opened his eyes and stood up. The witch was still there. She looked surprised. Good. As soon as Kaliburn saw her, the sword started to hum with bright anger once more, eager to finish the business with the witch that had been started a thousand years before.

But there was no sign of his friend.

‘Fox!’ bellowed Hillary, suddenly very concerned. ‘Fox!’

But there was no reply, and when he couldn’t find him, his gaze fell on the witch.

‘Where is Fox?’ he demanded. ‘What have you done with him?’

‘I’m surprised you managed to escape.’ she shouted. ‘At last, someone who knows the ancient arts.’

‘Where is he?’ he asked, ignoring her.

‘Oh I wouldn’t worry about him.’ she replied, making a sign in front of herself with her fingers. ‘I release him from his obligation.’

He looked. Wolves were everywhere. Mostly though they were still at the landward side of the drawbridge.

All except one it seemed.

‘Watch out for wolves though Hillary.’ she warned. ‘I hear they’re quite fierce around here.’

The lone wolf made a sad whining sound, and then bared its teeth as if it was trying to say something. For a second it didn’t look threatening at all, but Hillary didn’t want to take a chance.

And then it ran towards him. Its eyes were wide open as its great tongue lolled about.

Hillary grunted and swung Kaliburn around in an effort to defend himself. But as it jumped up it managed to impale itself on the sword, and with a terrible howl it collapsed to the ground in agony.

‘Kill it.’ urged Kaliburn. ‘Finish the beast off.’

As Hillary raised the sword to deliver the death blow, the wolf scrambled and staggered around in its own blood for a moment before it slipped over the precipice with a sad yelp, and tumbled into the churning waves below.

Hillary turned his attention back to the witch.

‘Is the best you can do?’ he said. ‘Send any more wolves at me, and they’ll meet the same fate,’ he warned.

Inside, something didn’t feel right though. That was too easy, he thought.

Cordelia stood there and applauded him with a slow clap.

‘My, how it gets better.’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Your friend.’

‘What about him?’

‘You just killed him.’

Horrified, Hillary peered over the abyss into the angry sea.

‘How clever of you.’ she beamed.

‘B-but I didn’t know…’ he muttered, looking at his hands. ‘Oh sweet gods no.’

The bloodied sword slipped from his grasp onto the cobbles and instantly he knew that the old woman spoke the truth.

‘I’ll leave you to wallow in your guilt.’ she said with a wave of her hand.

The witch turned her back on him and wandered off. Her wolf sisters followed, and in a blink of the eye they had disappeared without a trace into the wood.

After a while, he picked the sword up and weighed it in his bloodied hands.

‘Kill the witch you fool!’ said the sword angrily. ‘Kill her now before she escapes!’

Hillary wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked out across the sea of storms to the lighthouse of Ulfric in the distance.

‘I’m sorry Fox.’ he sobbed. ‘I really am…’

Drowning in regret, he took a deep breath and hurled the sword with all his might out across the abyss. For a second it flew gracefully like a bird towards the setting sun, before gravity took it and sent it down and down, faster and faster, glinting all the way as it fell, until it eventually disappeared below the waves.

Posted in A Change In The Weather |