In Which Severin Is Robbed of His Sanctuary

September 25, 1167

If he wasn't dead or dying, then he was stark, raving mad.

At first, he'd thought he was seeing things--there was still the possibility that he was. A glimpse of blue amongst the green and brown of the forest, a bright copper red that shone even without the light of the sun; it might have been foolish to even think to look, but...

As their eyes met, she'd turned around and retreated into the forest, her gait like that of teasing girl who ran with the intention of being caught. He'd followed. He hadn't known what else to do; whether she'd known it or not, he'd spent his whole life following her lead, even now that she was gone.

Only, somehow, she was here again. It was impossible, Severin was painfully aware, but he was as sure of the sight of her as he was of the sight of any tree around the clearing. He must have been mad. "...Alina?"

He didn't like to think that he had forgotten her radiance, but she was even more breathtaking than he remembered. She was celestial; she was divine. "Princess? Is that really you?"

She didn't say anything--she merely smiled, a slight blush further lighting her already glowing face.

He headed toward her with tentative steps, afraid that each would be the one to make her disappear; she never did. Surely no apparition felt so fine as the sleeve of her velvet dress, and no ghost had the same cinnamon scent that overwhelmed him every time he opened her drawers. She must have been as real as anything else in the clearing. What other explanation could there have been for such full sensory detail? "How is this possible?"

She remained silent as he ran his hand down the side of her rosy face, his fingers through her thick red curls. Neither her flesh nor her hair felt any different... but why wouldn't she say anything? He needed to hear her voice. She felt like her, smelled like her, but her voice would be that last bit of confirmation he needed. He needed to know--for sure--that it was really her. "Why won't you say anything?"

She flashed him a knowing smile, then brushed her hand along his arm to meet his own, gesturing for him to take the other one. Who was he to deny such a request?

He reached for her free hand interlocked his fingers with hers. The formerly cool touch of his wedding bang was warmed beneath her skin, rendered light and empowering as it had been before her death--no longer the heavy reminder it had become. If nothing else, at least he had a moment of sanctuary; if nothing else, the pieces of his world were no longer so scattered. But... "Say something? Please?"

Her lips curled into an odd sort of grin, one he had never seen on her before. Was he dreaming, perhaps? He felt very much awake. "Alina?"

She broke free of his grasp, a white light engulfing her as she stretched her arms in front of her. What sort of devilry was this? By what sadistic power was he being taunted so? "Alina, what--?"

"I must say, even I never expected it to be this easy!"

Though it came from her mouth, it was not Alina's voice. It wasn't even a woman's--it didn't even sound human. He couldn't put a face to it.

And yet, he recognized it. "You!"

"Me," the creature confirmed, shedding Alina's form and revealing himself for... well, whatever he was, exactly. "You know, I really thought you were smarter than that, your lordship--then again, I suppose a broken heart does make fools of the best of us, does it not?"

His words had been spoken with a bard's clarity, but they were little more than muffled noise to Severin's ears. How dare this monster violate Alina's image? What sort of twisted joke was this?

"What are you playing at?" Severin demanded, rage he never knew he had rushing to fill the aching void in his core. "Coming to me as my dead wife? Is this the sort of sick prank that strikes you as being funny?"

Deian laughed, a cold, sharp cackle that pierced through Severin's body and began to rush throughout his veins, chilling every inch of him; if there had been any life in the clearing besides the two of them, surely it was no longer. "Admittedly, yes... but at the heart of it all, I just wanted to talk to you and I knew that would be the best way to get you to follow me. Besides, let's be honest here; is there anyone in the world who hasn't wondered what it would be like to have such a body? To think, all your wife had to do to see herself naked was take a bath."

Severin's left hand curled into a tight fist. Though his sword was equipped for his right, it was not naturally the hand he favored. Years of his father smacking a ruler across his knuckles every time he caught him writing with his left had forced him to adjust, but not to the point where he now fought more strongly with his right--and Deian didn't know this. Deian would see Severin's belt and assume that he was right-handed. If he drew with his left, the creature would be caught off-guard. "Don't talk about her that way, you vile excuse for a sack of bones! What the hell do you want from me?"

That eerie laugh returned, its iciness threefold. "I just wanted to give you a friendly reminder of what will be upon you and your people shortly; I trust you haven't forgotten?"

He hadn't. None of them had--not that they had any more of an idea of what to do than they had the last time. "Why else do you think I would have brought my sword on a leisurely ride?"

The creature shook his head. "Oh, Severin, I don't think anything you do these days is 'leisurely'; I daresay you brought that sword with the idea that you might slip from your horse and impale yourself on it. Not that it would have done you any good, of course--you did end up in Hell when I sent you to your afterlife, didn't you? At least your friend had the sense to consult one of your priests; perhaps you can ask him to say hello to your wife for you if you don't get on that soon. Care to share with me what you did, exactly? I must say, I don't think I'm quite so frightening as a priest."

Severin raised his fist, quickly rethinking his strategy. He'd draw with his right, and fight with it for a while--let Deian think he had the upper hand for the first few blows. Then, when he wasn't expecting it, he'd switch. "I don't believe that's any of your business."

Deian smiled that same sadistic grin that had looked so out of place on Alina's flawless face. "Did I touch a nerve? Oh, I'm so sorry! Anyway, now that you've been reminded about your kingdom's imminent doom, why don't you go and run along home to your wife? Oh, that's right," he added as an afterthought, Severin's hand hovering towards his sword with each oily syllable, "she's dead."

That was it. Prepared to lunge, he reached for the hilt of his sword, wanting nothing more than to see this demon in a thousand pieces--but before he could grasp it, he was on the ground, blown off his feet by some unpredictable force.

"Not so fast," Deian scolded in a mock-patronizing tone as the white shockwaves dissipated. "Did you really think I didn't know that you weren't above violence? I must admit, I'm a little disappointed--after all, I do believe that deep down, you realize that we're more alike than you care to admit."

Severin struggled to pull himself to his feet, but found that all movement had forsaken him. It took all the strength he had to mouth the word 'Liar'.

That hideous smile never leaving his face, Deian made his way towards him and gazed downward, suddenly reminiscent of a vulture circling a carcass. "Oh, I think you know very well just what it is I'm talking about, Severin. Anyway, I did promise I'd kill you last, and now that such a courtesy seems torturous to you, I believe I shall keep my word. Meanwhile, I don't doubt you'll black out for a few minutes; fortunately, my shock waves startled your poor horse, and he's run off, soon to encounter a couple of hunters. They'll calm him, then follow his trail and find you here, and a few hours from now, you'll be waking at your mother's house, your little sister begging you to drink some tea. Rest well--and if you want to avoid any more unnecessary deaths, then you'll get your people back to your native Dovia, and quickly. Have a nice life, Severin... that is to say, whatever might be left of it."

And with a final sneer, he vanished, another flash of light where he was standing seconds before. The rest of the world began to disappear after him. Shapes... shadows... dark.

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