The Final Days of Springborough: Day 2

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Chapter 41: EPILOGUE

Death was hard for her to get used to. She knew that hers was unlike others, that she had a certain amount of freedom more than most, and that he granted her the powers that others that experienced after life could only crave. But, having everything one could want also meant dealing with things others didn’t have to. To be dead was to not have any barriers, any walls, keeping her out from anywhere. When she thought of a place, she found herself in that place in a moment. So, for the first bit of time in death, she found herself transporting in all different areas, and it was only when she was dizzy did she stop, did she reassess, and realize that the thoughts that she focused on had to be singular.

Anyone living could think of multiple things at once, and when she was alive her thoughts were scattered everywhere. They were with multiple different people at once. Now that she was dead, if she thought about Prince Thomas, she was there with him, right by his side as he walked toward the castle, his sword sheathed and spent from a long day chopping away at skeletons. When she thought about the shores of Quakenfalls, she found herself standing there on that rock, looking at the waters and the approaching ships, the ships carrying the corpses of Baku, the decaying bodies that tied sails, turned helms, controlled the rest of the crew on the boat.

When she thought of the Ex-Queen, she was taken to Springborough’s Great Hall, where the Queen sat in her old throne and looked upon the room. Queen Grace looked so majestic in the chair, her arms resting by her side, her posture perfect and her head acting as a stand of a non-existent crown. No, Queen Grace gave that crown up, but she still carried herself as if it was there.

In front of her, the Queen’s grand daughter stood in the middle of the Great Hall, her eyes clouded over with a red mist, her mind not in Springborough. The Warlock had taken her somewhere to show her something. The Warlock had a plan, and he was the only one Leila couldn’t follow. She had deemed herself the most powerful Witch in Springborough, but the Warlock was the most powerful man she had ever come across.

And even the Warlock was scared of the Man in the Hood.

“Leila,” Queen Grace said, noticing the Witch had appeared at her side to watch Kyrstin. “He killed you, too?”

“No, your highness,” Leila responded, respecting the lady even in death. “My death was not a part of the plan.”

The Queen’s smile died as quickly as it appeared, fading into memory. She looked down her nose at the Princess, and sighed. She felt so powerless. Not even the throne made her feel any more powerful.

“Tell me something, Leila, as the world sinks into chaos…”

Leila turned from Kyrstin and looked at the Queen, trying her best to not think of anything else going on in the world, trying her best to remain in the moment. The Queen mentioned chaos, and the witch focused on the Great Hall. She focused on the throne, on the Queen’s face. Anything else, any other thought, would take her away, and she wanted to be here, in the most quiet place in all of Springborough for just one moment longer.

“I can answer every question but one, my Queen,” the Witch said.

“In this plan,” the Queen said, and gestured, as if she was so sick of hearing about plans, but her question was to betray her apathy. For she did care about the plan, she believed in it. Because, it seemed to all be true. It all seem to be prophesied. “In this plan,” she continued, struggling to get the question out,“do my grandchildren survive?”

Leila the Witch knew she shouldn’t be surprised, because it wasn’t the first time the Queen guessed right.

And without an answer, her whole perspective changed, and Leila wished she could be anywhere else in the world.

Only, she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.

And so the two women, transparent in spirit but cloaked with emotion, watched as the Princess came back from wherever she had been.

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