Content note: violence
He tapped his nails against the windowsill. Or were they claws now? More than likely. Snow was falling outside without a hint of wind to accompany the winter procession. It occurred to him that he didn’t enjoy its silence. He wished it was raining.
“My liege?” His retainer asked, standing at the doorway. They were in a guest room, of sorts. A tower at the far side of a much grander castle. The host had treated them with all of the usual decorum that one would extend to royalty, but Alric was not fond of them. Their teeth glinted when they spoke, oversized canines sometimes still faintly stained red. He prodded at his own with his tongue and might’ve stabbed it, but his nerves were too dead to be sure. Oh how the mighty had fallen. Standing in the guest room of a monster, not a scrap to his name, a disgrace to his family’s great dynasty.
“Lord Alric, forgive me, but-”
“No, forgive me,” he said as he sighed and turned to face her. “I am lost in thought. What was it you were asking?”
“Her lordship is inviting you to the council that she had mentioned. She expressed a desire to bring you… into the fold.”
“Did she now?” Alric asked dryly. He stepped away from the window and brushed some of the dust off of his tunic, speaking to Hildesinde without looking up.
“What do you think of this invitation, my dearest Hilda?”
“I… believe it may be worthwhile to attend?”
“Not a trap?”
“If they desired the two of us dead then they would’ve already made an attempt.”
“How do you suppose that?”
“We were separated, briefly, when being shown our quarters. If they wanted to kill us they would’ve had an easier time then.”
“So sure of yourself.”
Hildesinde bristled. “There… is a reason I was a commander, my lord. Security is—”
“You can cease the theatrics. I am no longer a lord of any kind.”
Hildesinde was a bit frustrated at this interruption, but decided to meet him where he was. “I believe you and I both disagree with that. Certainly Lady Engelin does. She treats you with much respect. It may be the case that this council will be a chance to talk to these… people about some rather pressing matters.”
“Her formalities will not fool me.”
“By which you mean…?”
“She is a monster, nothing more, and I will not have the wool pulled over my eyes.”
Hildesinde crossed the room to him.
“To say that is to call yourself a monster, and I will not permit such words to be spoken.”
“Yet you have no way of stopping them, as we have no way to deny them from killing us. We are at their whims.”
“I don’t think — their whims—” Her hand twitched. “My lord, we are not under threat here. They are showing us goodwill. There has yet to be any harm to us. I am not even certain that Lady Engelin is truly as bad as you think. There are shreds of humanity she clings to”
“Perhaps they think of us as mere playthings to toy with until they are bored,” the once-lord drawled, ignoring her. His tone could be politely described as miserable and self-pitying.
Hildesinde hesitated for a moment, though more out of frustration than anything. This was a pointless discussion. Alric had been dour since… the events of the last month, and she understood why. It did not stop her from being frustrated with his morose demeanor. Still, he was her liege, and she would hold firm to that loyalty. Unlike those traitors (the word stung even as she thought it) to the throne that had helped the usurper (she supposed), she still believed that the Alric she had known before would shine once more, sooner or later.
“If you are worried,” she said simply, “Then I promise that if there is a note of danger I will behead them before they can move against us.”
“Confident as ever.”
“One of us must be,” she replied, sharper than she intended.
Alric looked at her for the first time during this conversation. She was wearing the armor that their host had granted them, since hers had previously been damaged beyond repair. He could not look at her face under her helm as it was spiked and ornate. He was fairly sure she hadn’t removed it in days. He supposed they did not exactly need to, in their current state, but he’d at least made an effort to maintain a pretense of normalcy.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” His voice had the edge of one assured of their station, and though its sharp nature was directed at her, that reassured Hildesinde. She allowed herself to press the point, may his Lordship forgive her.
“You know quite well what I mean, Lord Alric. Since your return you have been but a shade of what you were.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are forgiven. I am aware your suffering is great, my lord. I am aware that this – “ she gestured to the entirety of his body, “- has been quite difficult for you.”
“Are you?” Alric interjected. “Do you know what this is like? To become… this? To be turned into such a reviled creature, to be cast out of my own world… I was to lift my people from their shackles, and now I am that which shackled them to begin with.”
Hildesinde reached up and pulled off her helm, revealing the face beneath. It was haggard, pale, her eyes a faint pupiless red framed by unkempt black hair. When she spoke, her teeth shone, her expression a sort of nebulous contempt.
“Quite. Aware. My liege. As you know, good and well. I stood by you when your sister wished you gone, are you so quick to forget? Has the month that has passed stolen your memory? Or perhaps you are already so lost to our affliction that our ties have been severed in your mind. Allow me to remind you. I stood by you then and stand with you now, but I take no pleasure in serving a wretch.”
“Is that what you think of me?”
“Perhaps it is now. Certainly it was not before.”
“And what do you think of yourself, then? A monster as well?”
“You are blind, sire. You cannot see this for what it is.”
“Ah, but you are as clearsighted as ever?”
“More so than you, though that’s hardly a challenge.”
“Then what, dear Hilda, do you think of our predicament? Are you so enamored with your own reflection that you cannot see the horror we have undergone?”
“To — to myself? You call me vain? I have done nothing but sacrifice for you. I killed for you for years, well before I ever had to turn my instruments against my comrades to save your life. You think I did so out of pettiness? Perhaps I had a score to settle with the man I had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with, is that it?”
“Perhaps,” Alric answered, but his heart was not in it. He had begun avoiding her gaze. Hildesinde forced herself to continue. Much though she would like to return to her typical, steadfast nature, she could not allow this to continue. For this entire month, Alric had been nothing more than a despondent child. She was reminded of their teenage years. Alric was like this then. Sulking, bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders but unwilling or unable to hold it up. Now he was much the same, but more than that, he was a fool lost to his own grief. And grief of what? She felt real rage at that moment. What had he lost? His kingdom remained in fair hands; his sister would serve their people well. He was alive, impossibly alive. Here he was, drowning in his own mind, while she had to drag him along behind her. She deserved time to grieve and he had refused to grant it to her, making himself a burden. What was she to do? Not carry it? She had, because unlike Alric, she was strong enough to do so, but she would not shoulder this in silence for a moment longer.
“So that you know, I did not have any such grudge with the man I called a brother-in-arms. He was named Kerst. The first man I killed, that is. We had shared a drink mere days prior. He had listened to my grief at your passing for weeks. We fought side by side, time and time again, and in your name at that, but I split his skull for the slightest hope of your safety.”
Alric said nothing.
“Hans and I had always had a rivalry. We were determined to outdo one another in your service. He was the only one who wanted to stand by your side as badly as I did. Perhaps he had more selfish motives, but I saw him hesitate when he could have struck you, before I was able to return to your side. My axe was stuck. If he had not hesitated, I would not have had the time to throw the second. I truly hope he survived that blow. I fear he did not.”
Alric once again said nothing.
“The third was the last I could make out the face of, before everything started happening. I did not know his name. I had spoken to him only a few times. He was a boy. A boy, Alric. Little more than a child, drawn in to serve after the death of his ruler. I slaughtered him, and all the rest that came after. I killed myself to save you, and what was it for? So that you might sulk here in this tower? That you might answer each of my questions with some inane contradiction? Were it not for me you would’ve lain down and died at the foot of your sister’s throne. I gave you your second chance at life, not the parasite that bit you. Every day I watch you squander my gift. I sacrificed everything at a moment’s notice, and make no mistake, Alric. I would do it again. For all of the revulsion and horror at what I have done, I know in my unbeating heart that saving you was correct. The least you could do is prove me right.”
Alric said nothing, returning to the window. There was red in the snow now. He was certain that meant a human had been caught traipsing around the perimeter of the castle. It must’ve been a lazy one that grabbed them, though — normally they tried to prevent so much of their blood from spilling into the snow. He wondered if it might be on offer tonight. In spite of himself, he was hungry.
“I am… sorry. That you have suffered so much on my behalf.”
“I do not want your apology. I want you to change.”
“It is just that our prospects seem so bleak. How could we ever hope to change the fates as we are?”
“… earlier, I said I saw things more clearly than you did. Allow me an explanation. This is my gift to you, my liege. I offer you this unlife as a time through which we can be more than monsters. You seem to see it as merely a curse, but the curse would have been if you had truly died that day. If you had remained dead and buried, that would have been far worse than any of what has transpired since. We are beyond mortal now. Greater strength, greater speed — and already we have a chance to speak to those who were once solely our enemies, who would’ve regarded us as cattle. They will listen to us now. We are their equals. You were always a deft negotiator, and your skills will do much good if only you allow them. Please, Alric.” Her voice broke a touch at the end. She held it together. She was not aware of how much this had been weighing on her. Alric had been a light in her life since they were very young. So full of hope and drive. To see him in such a sorry, shattered state of repair was infuriating. A waste, and one she would not accept laying down.
Alric began drumming his nails on the windowsill.
“Do you believe all of that, Hilda?”
“Of course, my liege.” She paused. “Of course, Alric. I will not give up on you here.”
There was a beat of silence. Alric watched the snow fall.
“Hildesinde.”
“Yes?”
“Your words would’ve had you thrown out of the fiefdom, particularly under my father’s reign. Which is to say,” he turned, offering a sharp smile “I truly wish that you allowed yourself to speak like that more often.”
She hadn’t dreamed that he would respond so candidly. He would have to change his behavior for it to mean much, but it was a start. Whether it was mere pretense or if she’d moved him, she did not care at that moment. He knew what would get to her. She sneered, concealing her relief beneath an acrid tone.
“Hardly the place of a soldier to speak to their lordship in such a way.”
Alric waved a hand dismissively. “Then you are knighted.”
“House Thurn does not keep knights.”
“Alric von Thurn rules no such house.”
“Then by what authority do you knight me?”
“By… my authority as the Lord of the Crowning Order.”
“Crowning… Order?”
“Crowning, as in the final triumph. But also invoking royal authority.”
“Perhaps you should reconsider the name.”
“Have you a better one?”
“The Splinter of Thurn.”
“Hah! As if to suggest that we are an offshoot?”
“… arguably, though it also invokes the splinters under your nails, following the coffin. I thought it was excellent.”
“We shall consult Lady Engelin, eh?” Alric asked wryly, putting on his surcoat.
“As you wish, my liege.” She said, donning her helm again — though she was not quick enough to hide the smile on her face.