Tales after Dusk 04

He feels his hands shake as they snake around her throat, remembering every beating that witch gave him, every cruel word she spoke. He takes in a deep breath, fingers sliding against the cold emerald necklace.

Zeke rips his hands away, throwing the necklace across the room, searching Orane's eyes once more. Instantly, he sees the kindness return to them; she gasps for air, grabbing his shirt to keep herself upright. Frantically, she tries to speak, "Ryan."

"He is the witch," Zeke states, reaching down for his dagger.

"No, Ryan's advisor," Orane crumples to the ground, weak from the struggle.

Zeke drops down to his knees, pulling her into his arms, "It is all right now, everything will be fine."

"No, it won't," a familiar, evil voice says from the shadows. Slowly a woman steps forward, the elderly, seemingly frail form of Ryan's advisor. Her grey hair is down now, wildly framing her face, "You shouldn't go making promises you can't keep, Repugnant."

"Don't call me that," he says timidly. Though he wants to fight her, all those countless years of her abuse still affect him greatly.

"Oh, look at that," she says, head cocked to the side, "The little boy has cultivated some courage."

"It's over now, witch. You have no power left and you will not get any more." Orane's voice is horse but firm, unforgiving.

"You see now, that is where you are wrong. Yes, I might not have much left because what power I did have I used up on you. It's always the women that resist more, that fight against me. But you—you were like none other. You just about zapped me dry, struggling to get away, to take off that necklace. I was never able to find that journal of yours, but when this little boy came to your room at night," a wicked smile crosses her lips, "Well, let's just say, Repugnant, that at least I got my way with you. Too bad I had to do it with her body."

Zeke's fists clench tightly as he stands up, "That's enough!" He starts towards the witch so that he can incapacitate her until the rest of the men arrive. She flicks up her hand and though she barely has enough strength to restrain him, Zeke flinches, stopping in his tracks.

"Not so quickly, dear boy. You see, while it is always the women that resist with every fiber of their being, the men, oh, how they do give in." Using her foot, she nudges Ryan. He groans slightly, eyes opening as he starts to come to. "Some are more difficult than others, but some, like Prince Ryan here, well, they don't even need me to control them. They are willing to do my bidding with the mere promise of a prize." Her eyes flicker over to Orane before returning to Zeke, "Kill him," she commands.

Ryan quickly gets to his feet, starting towards Zeke with his knife out. They crash into each other, fists swinging as they dance about the room.

Orane, body weak from the time spent trying to resist the witch, crawls across the floor towards the dagger. The witch steps on the blade just as she reaches it.

Picking it up in one hand, she moves behind Orane's body, wrapping her arm around her throat while she holds the dagger to her heart. Together she twists their bodies around so that they can watch the fight.

"Can you see, my dear? I want to make sure that you are watching when Ryan kills your love."

"Why are you doing this?" Orane manages to choke out.

"With all of the research you have done on me, I would have thought you'd know by now. The potency of my power is derived from the strength of the people that I kill. I learned decades ago that strength didn't necessarily mean physical power, but something else. You see, the strongest ones, the ones that put up the biggest fight are always the ones who fight not for their own life, but for the life of their most beloved. The right married couple can give me enough power for more than a decade, but that kind of love is truly hard to find these days. Didn't ever occur to you that I let your men watch me, follow me to my home? I led you to that tower. I hurt him on purpose because I knew you would help him. I knew he would remind you of that silly little bird you had as a child, in fact I have been planning your meeting since the night I murdered your parents. You fell easily into my trap, like a fly in a web."

Ryan has Zeke pinned, trying to shove the dagger into his chest as Zeke fervently holds his hands at bay. Orane starts shaking.

"Please," she pleads, "please don't do this. Don't kill him—I will let you leave. You can walk away."

The witch grabs Orane by the hair, pulling her head down almost into her lap. She holds the dagger to her throat, "Now we both know that is a lie."

"Then take my life, but let him live," her shaking hand reaches towards the witch's; it joins hers around the dagger's handle. She inches the knife closer to her throat.

"No, you will watch him die first," she says angrily, pulling the dagger back.

The opening is all that Orane needs. Her free arm flies up to the dagger. She turns the blade and with all of her strength plunges it into the witch's chest.

There is a shocked look on her face, "No, no! What have you done?" she pants, blood seeping into the fabric of her dress.

Orane pushes herself away from the witch, watching in horror as her face begins to age rapidly. Her skin wrinkles to the point that it begins to crack.

"It can't be! No!" she screams. She tries to lunge forward towards Orane, but her arm breaks off and lands in a pile of dust. Slowly, the rest of her body crumbles right before Orane's eyes.

She sits, shocked for a moment before she turns around to Zeke as he still struggles with Ryan. She cannot see the knife. Ryan's body strains; he throws himself down hard on top of Zeke. Both of them stop moving.

Orane inhales sharply, her heart almost stopping. She scurries over to them on her hands and knees, using the last of her strength to heave Ryan off of Zeke. There is blood everywhere, the bloody dagger falls to the ground. Desperately, Orane paws at Zeke's chest, searching for the wound.

There is none.

He blinks slowly, sitting up as he turns to Ryan. The prince doesn't move anymore.

Orane wraps her arms around Zeke, tears rushing down her face as she pulls him closer, burying her face into his neck. He folds his arms around her body, holding her tightly, stroking her hair.

She pulls away slightly, staring deeply into his eyes, "Zeke, I lo—"

"Shhh," he stops her, pressing his lips to hers, "You can tell me later, now that we have all the time in the world."

...

The sun reflects off of the ram's golden fleece as he tentatively picks his way across the grass, towards a herd of plain, white sheep. He stops suddenly when a ewe turns her head towards him and lets out a low bahhhh. The rest of the herd looks over at the curious creature; slowly they walk over to him. They smell the air, almost afraid of the ram, but then the ewe inches forward. She touches his nose with hers, letting out another call before dropping her head down to the ground and chewing on the grass. As if the others respect her opinion, they begin carrying on like nothing has changed. Soon the golden ram joins them, happily eating his first mouthful of grass, freshly ripped from the ground.

Orane leans her head onto Zeke's shoulder. He inhales the sweet smell of her hair, glad that he isn't being poked by her crown. Though she looked beautiful today, dressed in all white, her hair a soft fiery glow of red under the sheer veil, he feels more at ease with her back in pants and a vest.

"Luther will keep an eye on him," Orane says, talking about the ram.

"I know," he says, kissing her forehead, "Now, shall we?"

A smile crosses her lips, "A promise is a promise," she says, "Even if that means I must sleep in a tent on my wedding night."