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There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. Yet that will be the beginning.
“Charleson! Charleson, are you up yet?!”
A small figure groaned under a tangled mess of blankets at the sound of an elderly woman’s shrill voice. In response it halfheartedly moved it’s head under the pillow it was laying on to block the offending voice so it could fall back asleep. When all it could hear was the sound of it’s own breathing, the figure relaxed and attempted to fall back asleep.
The door to the room burst open with a loud bang as it impacted with the wall, causing the figure to fully awake from the intrusion. The blankets immediately pooled around the figure’s waist as it did so to reveal the bare form of a young boy with dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes that went from sleepy and relaxed to wide and alert. The elderly woman marched across the room and threw open the curtains on the window that faced the early morning sun, causing the boy to squint at the harsh daylight that suddenly assaulted his senses.
“I swear you’re as lazy as your namesake Charleson,” the elderly woman remarked as she walked over to the boy’s bed and poked him in the chest, “Sleeping in well past your due, and on today of all days!”
Having finished rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, Charleson swatted away the offending hand and finally looked upon the elderly woman. Gasping, he pulled some of the blankets tighter around his naked chest, “Nan! You’re not supposed to see me like this. It’s not proper!”
His Nan huffed indigently and walked back towards the bedroom door, “As if I've not see in you such a state since you were swaddling. There’d be no need for me to do so now if you had the ability to wake up on time. If this pattern holds true then I don’t imagine there’d be a warthog or wallflower who'd polish your escutcheon, let alone a woman of good breeding. Now if you don’t want to be any later then I suggest you make yourself presentable and make your way to the Knight’s grounds. Why they’d even consider someone like you is beyond me some days…” The woman’s voice trailed off as she went out into the hall, and her footsteps could be heard going down the stairs shortly thereafter.
As Charleson processed the important part of her rant, he suddenly remembered just what today was and leapt out of bed before pulling on the clothes he’d laid out the night before. He mentally berated himself as he did so for forgetting what today was, much like his Nan had. It had been a miracle that he’d finally gotten to sleep last night. He'd been so excited. Today was the day he’d follow in his father’s, and even grandfather’s footsteps after all.
Tightening his breeches, Charleson grabbed a pair of woolen socks and quickly ran out of his bedroom; his feet pounding loudly as he made his way down the wooden staircase to the first floor. He nimbly rounded the corner to see his Nan sitting at the dining table with a mug of tea and half a scone on her plate. The old woman scoffed before taking a sip of her drink, “Sounds like a rampaging bandersnatch when he comes down the stairs so violently. It’s a wonder they haven’t collapsed yet.”
“Oh mum, don’t be so hard on him,” a woman’s soothing voice from the cooking stove cut in, “He’s just excited to start training today is all, and I’m sure Charles won’t do it again anyway.” His mother turned from the stove to raise a reproachful eyebrow at him, and he ducked his head sheepishly.
“No mum, I won’t,” he promised. His mother smiled warmly as she walked over with a satchel in her hands that she knotted and passed to him.
“Now, since you’re running late, I’ve put a scone and an apple in with your lunch, but don’t eat them on the way if you’re thinking of running the entire length to the Knight’s grounds. It won’t do to have you sick up on your first day, now would it?” she remarked.
Charles nodded as he slung his satchel across his chest and beamed up at his mother, “I won’t mum, don’t worry.” She continued to smile before placing a kiss on his forehead and running a hand through his hair.
“I suppose a good combing would be too much to ask for now, so you’d better get on then and shuffle off before you really do have to run,” his mother sighed and Charles rolled his eyes before donning his boots by the door. He’d just turned the knob and opened the front door when his mother spoke up one more time, “Oh and Charles?” He turned his head to face her with a curious expression.
“Merry tenth birthday my dear,” she softly smiled at him. Charles returned it with a wide grin before he bounded out the door.
For all that Charles was running late this morning, it was still quite early for the majority of the inhabitants of the Checkerboard Kingdom to be up and about yet. That made it easy for him to navigate the cleared streets at a sedate pace like he’d promised his mother he would. He’d finished his scone first thing and was now hopping from red brick square to red brick square as he thought about the day that lay ahead of him.
At ten years old, he was finally able to join the young squires’ guild and apprentice to become a Knight of the realm; serving the White Queen and Red King of their glorious kingdom. Being the child of a second generation knight gave him an automatic placement on the acceptance list, but not a guaranteed spot as a full squire. He’d have to do that on his own, but he had every confidence that he’d make it and make his family proud. He’d already seen with his mind’s eye, so how could it not come to pass?
Tossing the apple core into the little river that ran through the western side, Charles crossed the ravine bridge and quickened his pace a touch as he traversed the last few yards to the Knight’s grounds. They were a large collection of buildings on the edge of the city that contained the Knight’s barracks, horse stables, armory, and training space. The morning sun caused the ivory stone of the buildings to glow warmly, and Charles couldn’t hold in his grin of excitement as he approached the front guards.
The place was already a bustle of activity and two men in pieces of red armor were chatting with each other as they blocked the entrance. They waved to some people in recognition when they passed into the opening of the rook shaped building, while occasionally glancing around the area.
“I heard Blagden found another Other Worlder around the eastern edge of Tulgey this morning wandering around,” remarked the one of the left as Charles approached, “Don’t know why the Queen doesn’t just block the holes up. It’s a bother playing child watcher half the time. I get enough of that with my own young ones at home.”
The guard on the right chuckled and shook his head, “Ah, I feel you there, but you know it wouldn’t do a lick of good. King tried that over a century ago and they just shifted to a new place. Did your knight teach you nothing as a squire? Not sure you’re cut out to be a red if you’ve got holes in your learning.”
Curious as to what they were talking about, and not wanting to be rude and interrupt, Charles stood there and listened. The first man rolled his eyes and gave the smiling man a light shove, “I know my history, you blathering fopdoodle, but that was the Queen’s father, the Widowed White King. Mayhap our Bishops have divined something new since then. We can’t go bothering the Queen to unlock the Glass every time one shows up. It’s not logical.”
The man on the right was about to reply when he noticed Charles standing there and instead turned to look at him properly. After giving him a look over, the man smiled, “Don’t believe I’ve seen you around the grounds before lad, and it’s my business to know who comes and goes. You here apply for an apprenticeship then?”
“Yes Sir!” Charles smiled, “Though I’ve already applied. I’m hoping to get chosen today.”
“That so?” The man continued to smile pleasantly as he pulled a scroll from his side pouch, “What’s your name then son?”
“Charles Eustace Fotheringale Malvois, the third”
The guard made a humming noise as he scanned the scroll. “Would that be Charleson Malvois and not just Charles?” he asked.
“Umm, yes. Mum said my name's just Charles, but Nan is always calling me Charleson so I suppose so,” Charles replied. The guard nodded as he made a mark on the scroll before rolling it up and waving him through.
“Best get back there then Charles. You’ll see a group of potentials just past the court gates. Wait there and the Knights with openings will come and do their choosing until lunch. If you’re not picked by then, you’ll have to go home and hope for better luck next year,” he stated. Charles waved his thanks and sprinted off to join the other hopefuls with little mind to the hint to not get his hopes up. He knew he’d be chosen.
Everything was not going fine.
Charles had been waiting calmly amongst twenty or so of his peers. Most either stood around -like him- or sparred with wooden swords that had been left on the training grounds. A show of skill that Charles had grown exhausted by hours ago. The day started slowly with one or two Knights coming by and selecting someone from the group seemingly at random, but not one of them would stay behind and answer any questions. The only exceptions were the White Knights who even then merely stated that 'only squires could gain knowledge from a Knight'. It didn’t matter that they were already potentials. They still had to be chosen first.
The sun was almost at the midday peak, which would signal lunch break and the end of the selection period. Over a dozen Knights must have passed through here since then and not one had even looked his way. A few hopefuls that had shown up later than Charles had been picked already so he knew it wasn’t because he’d been a tad late. His fears rose with the sun’s ascent and as he sat -cross-legged on the grass with his head in hand- he pondered the possibility of a false vision. Surely that couldn’t be the case. Even Nan had always said his dream visions were the only reliable things about him and the only reason why she let him take afternoon naps as he got older. What if he didn’t get picked and had to wait a whole year? Charles winced. Nan would surely chew his ear off if that happened.
He was so focused on his thoughts that it took him a moment to register a shadow was now darkening the spot of grass he was glaring at, and he blinked a few times to clear his vision. Charles looked up to see a white haired man with a trimmed goatee and sharp blue eyes looking down on him in amusement.
“Do these trials bore you so young lad?” the man asked.
Charles stood up quickly to face him properly and sucked in a breath as he did so as the man was outfitted in gleaming white armor. “Err no, no sir,” Charles replied as he attempted not to fidget, slightly mortified to have been caught sulking here of all places. He knew better!
“I should hope not,” the rumbling baritone lightly commented, “Tell me lad, what is your name?”
“Charles sir, umm Charleson Malvois the third.”
The Knight nodded, “Yes, I thought you might be. You look just as you ought to, but one can never be too careful you know. I may not be a Red, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a keen mind.” He gave Charles a once over before nodding once more and began to walk away, “Well, come along then young Charleson. Let us meet your fellow squires.”
Charles gaped openly at the Knight before him, “You…you mean you’re picking me? Really?”
Amusement clearly showed on the man’s face as turned to look back at Charles, “Would you prefer I picked someone else?” Shaking his head, Charles quickly jogged to catch up to him.
Not wanting to press his luck by bothering the Knight with questions so soon, Charles held his tongue and followed along silently as the man led him down several corridors and up a flight of stairs to a room that held two youths. One was a boy of about fifteen or so with longish dark brown hair pulled back against the nape of his neck and a lean body frame. The other was a girl only a year or two older than him with short hair a few shades lighter than the boy. Both were pulling items out of trunks in the room and laying them out on the floor when he walked in, and only to stopped once they heard the Knight clear his throat.
“Guinevere, Isaac. I’d like you to meet the final addition to our little family, Charleson. Charleson, these two are your fellow squires under my command. Isaac has been with me the longest and should be respected for the knowledge he holds, but none of you are above the other and should not treat any of your fellows as if you are.” They all answered with a chorus of ‘yes sirs’ and the Knight smiled pleasantly when they did before looking down at Charles again. “You know I do not believe I have given you my own name, how remiss of me. I am Gullworth Blagden, Second White Knight under command of her majesty the White Queen.”
The group spent lunch getting to know one another as each squire gave a brief history of their life and why they wished to become a knight. Guinevere -call me Gwen Charlie, I hate my name- was a third generation knight in training like him and her mother was still an active Red Knight with her own pair of squires. She would be unable to train with her mother due to the rules of the order, but she had been guaranteed as a potential like Charles. She was a generally pleasant young girl and Charles would only admit to himself that he thought her smile was quite lovely as well since it brought a twinkle to her blue eyes. His guess on her age was close as she confessed that she’d just turned twelve this month past.
Isaac, who asked to be called Pike when Sir Blagden wasn’t around, was very serious about his apprenticeship. He was an orphan and therefore felt he had more to prove to his peers -even though Sir Blagden assured him that was not the case. Sparring that afternoon against the young man proved to Charles that he was certainly strong enough. Pike did admit to enjoying working on inventing in his free time with Sir Blagden as well, and that Charles was welcome to join them if he liked.
When it came time for Sir Blagden to talk about himself, Charles continued to raise him on a pedestal as he found out that his teacher was part of the council for the White Queen. Second only in color ranking to Sir Richardson, and third in general ranking behind Lady Sepia. He’d been in service to the kingdom for over fifty years and had trained over a dozen squires to full knighthood.
They had a brief spar after lunch so Sir Blagden could assess the two newest recruits’ strengths and weaknesses before detailing their training schedule and official positions. Pike, as his oldest squire, was his official squire-at-arms and was tasked with making sure the knight’s steed was outfitted properly before battle and that everyone had their gear on physical training days. Gwen was his lore and supplies mistress. She was to make sure Pike did not miss any healing or practical items when setting the horse, and if required during battle, she was to get messages to the knights under Sir Blagden’s formation. Finally, Charles was given the job of readying Sir Blagden’s weapons and armor before battle; which included the honor of carrying the great white lance onto the battlefield. Nan had actually been quite pleased to hear that part, while his mother was worried about the possibility of such a thing occurring and the safety of her only child.
Though his mother had tried to hide it for months, Charles knew that war with the Queen of Hearts was coming. Not only did merchants talk about it in the streets daily, but Sir Blagden had started drilling them on practices of the Card Suit army almost daily.
The next few months were rough on the newly aged ten year old. Mornings came early and after a quick breakfast with his mother and Nan, he would sprint off to the training fields and have weapons practice and physical training with his fellow squires and Sir Blagden until midday. After a shower and lunch, they would have history and strategy lessons for as long as Sir Blagden wished to keep them.
If the day ended early, Charles would then spend time learning about medicine and plants from Gwen or joining Pike with his inventing. His first completed project was a modification of Sir Blagden’s mouse traps into a beehive design after the knight had commented on how the creatures always seemed drawn to the shape. He’d brought one back many years ago after meeting the young heroine Alice in the woods and noted it then. This of course sparked a story request of what that adventure had been like almost a decade ago. A story that would see many retellings whenever any of the squires could see that their knight was feeling down as it never failed to bring a smile to his face.
The only changes to this schedule would occur when Sir Blagden would be called to the Royal chambers for council or as time went on, war meetings.
Approximately ten months after Charles’ birthday
“Our intelligence reports all agree, your highness. The Queen of Hearts seems to be planning to launch a full-on attack at the Playing Field in a week's time,” Lady Sepia stated as she pointed to the figurines placed on the map upon the King’s desk. “It is as we’ve feared. She will stop at nothing it seems.”
The Red King of the Checkerboard Kingdom sighed gravely as he surveyed the figurines before him. His wife's- his four lead Knights and advisors were in his study just off the throne room to debate the possibility of war that lay before them. He furrowed his brow in thought, “How many Knights at the ready do we have Richardson?”
“A dozen squads my lord,” the Knight immediately replied, “some five thousand men in all if you include the newly christened ones.”
“And the Queen’s forces?”
Sepia exchanged a look with Blagden, who nodded once, before replying, “At least ten thousand strong if our information holds true. We also possess a cult of mage users, but recent reports say the Queen of Hearts has perfected her aerial machines.”
The King frowned, “So the flamingos…”
“Are fully operational, yes sire,” Sepia finished and the King’s shoulder’s tensed.
“Do we have anything to combat them effectively?”
The four Knights exchanged grave looks before a blonde man, the Second Red Knight Sir Dearg, spoke up, “Nay my king. We have the catapults and a few cannons, but nothing that matches the agility of the magically mechanical abominations she has created.”
His shoulder’s slumping in defeat; the King collapsed into the chair behind him and ran a hand wearily over his face once before pulling it back to stare at the ring on his finger. If only his dear wife, the former White Queen, was still here to give her clear guidance. She had made keeping their state of check with the Card Kingdom look so effortless. Her recent death had left him with a responsability he neither desired nor was groomed to handle.
He did not know how the Queen of Hearts had found out about the Looking Glass and the tuning stone their Bishops had developed alongside it, but oh how she had plotted the conquering of this kingdom ever since. It had been developed out of necessity centuries ago by the Queens of old to return those that fell down the Rabbit Holes that connected Wonderland to the Other World so that they may return home. For much like the creature they were named for, the pathways that connected the two worlds were numerous and yet elusive to find again once one wandered far away. An occurrence which only got worse once the Widowed White King had attempted to seal the Rabbit Holes many a decade ago.
Before the Stone had been created, many Other Worlders that found themselves often went mad by the things they called ‘witchcraft’ or illogical, and rather than continuing to lock them away or dispatch them, a former Queen had decreed her Bishops to devise a way to return them to their world, this land of many names, and it was considered one of the Wonders of the Checkerboard Kingdom. Requiring nothing more than a bite of dreamfruit and a simple suggestion that this was all a dream before sending the wayward visitors on their merry way and the state of the people improved for it. With visitors appearing less and less frequently and with minimal fuss until the young heroine Alice appeared.
There had long been tension between the Checkerboard and Card Kingdoms as the Cards envied the land and deep history found in the Checkered Lands. Often leading to bouts of war as one would push for power against the other. The last of these periods was broken by the appearance of a young Other Worlder named Alice appearing from a Rabbit Hole in the Card Kingdoms. When news of her arrival reached his wife’s ears she had been worried they would not find the girl in time to return her to the Other World for most Other Worlders who ventured or appeared in the Card Lands were never seen again. Especially since the Queen of Hearts took over and reduced all the other suit lands to mere stations in her Kingdom.
The Goddesses seemed to favor this young girl though as his wife had eventually discovered this Alice was not only well, but had managed to bring anarchy to the Queen of Heart’s Kingdom and brought down the whole house of cards she’d built along with it. Their knights were finally able to find Alice and escort her through their Kingdom so they could return her home via the Looking Glass. For a short time after, peace was known among their people. Something sinister must have been brewing with the Queen of Hearts however as she swiftly rebuilt her power over these past five or so years and with it, a desire to capture any Other Worlders she could find that bordered on madness.
Red King Arthur sighed as pulled himself out of such memories and trivialities; they would not help him here. Knowing there was only one course of action he could take, the King steeled himself before speaking to his Knights and advisors. “We shall meet her on the Playing Field with everything we have then. Prepare our forces and pray to the Goddesses that we may yet see another time of peace once this is done. Lady Sepia, I want to know-”
Charles swallowed nervously as he stood beside his fellow squires next to Sir Blagden and behind the main force of the Knights. To his right he could just make out the profile of the Red King and it was his presence alone that was keeping him from physically shaking in fear. Stretched before him on the far side of the Playing Field he could see the entirety of the Queen of Hearts’ Suit army. A dash of pink would fly across it occasionally as well, though he could not make out what it was. His palms were sweating and a glance to his left revealed that Gwen seemed to be faring as poorly as he was, which did lend him some comfort to know he was not alone in his fear.
The reality of his position as a squire and future Knight came forth in this one moment as he felt the tension of violence out on the field. Knowing for a certainty that there would be those who would not come home from this. That people would die today and that he could not prevent it. His dreams had been very dark of late as well and often he did not remember them when he woke. Nan was even terribly worried for him and that spoke volumes in and of itself.
Charles was broken from his musings by Sir Blagden’s voice and a pull on the Great Lance that he still held. He let it go and focused on what his knight was saying.
“-to stay on the field you understand. I want the three of you to go, gather your family if you can, or hide among Tulgey Woods as I have taught you, but this is not your place. That is not to say I do not believe you are brave, so much as it is my fondest wish for you not to see these horrors. Not yet.” Sir Blagden looked sadly down upon them then and Charles felt his heart in his throat at the feeling of compassion in those eyes. It wiped his fears away and he suddenly didn’t want to leave his Knight’s side now. Not this man who’d become both mentor and father to him in almost a year’s time.
“But Sir,” Pike spoke up, “Surely it is our duty-”
“It is your duty to do as I command, Isaac,” the White Knight bit out and Charles flinched at the harshness of his words. The sudden change in demeanor was jarring to the other squires as well as they seemed to share a similar look of shock. “Take Charleson and Gwen away now Isaac, and I wish only to see your backs as you retreat to safety. That is an order.”
Charles looked at Pike to see what he would do and the young man scowled, but nodded sharply before gathering up Gwen and himself and turning them away from the Playing Field. It was almost everything he could do to restrain himself from running ahead and away from the bloodshed he knew would lay behind him as he heard the horns of battle sound and the rush of thousands of men running to meet the call.
Distantly, Charlie could still make out the booms of cannon fire and a sharp tang of sword on sword as he huddled in the hide away burrow Sir Blagden had shown them during their survival training. He’d wanted to run home and grab his mum and Nan, make sure they got safe, but Pike had pulled them all under the tree root opening and was now staring out to where he knew the battle was occurring. Occasionally mumbling things like ‘I could help’ and ‘I’m not weak’, but he’d been quiet for some time and it was the quiet that filled him with more dread than his mumblings. Surely he wouldn’t disobey their Knight’s command?
His answer came moments later as Pike stood up and made to crawl out of the hidden burrow. “Pike, no,” Gwen whispered fiercely, “You must stay! Sir Blagden bade it so!”
“Well he could be dead and dying now for all we know,” Pike shot back in his own heated whisper, “So what do those words mean any more? You two can stay if you like. There are water skins and provisions to last you a day, maybe two if you want to hide out and do nothing, but not me. I’m going out there and I’m going to fight.”
Charles stayed where he was and watched fearfully as Pike’s form slowly vanished into blackness. Turning his head to Gwen, he could see a look of indecision on her face like the one Pike had been warring with since they'd hid. He knew what was coming and it tore at his heart when she looked sadly back at him before moving toward the exit tunnel. “I’m sorry Charlie,” she begged, “I just- he’s- we’re family, all of us and…I have to bring him back.”
In a heartbeat she was gone, and Charles was left all alone. Torn between his fear of the battle that was echoing around him and the desire to save his friends and family. Fear won out in the end as he huddled into the deepest corner of his hole and cried by the fading candle light.
“So this is all the glorious Checkerboard Kingdom has to defend itself? Hardly a surprise without their Queen I suppose.”
A woman in an extravagant red and black dress slowly strode into the Checkered throne room with a self satisfied grin on her face. Her footsteps echoed as she walked up to face the King. A Spade keeping him on the throne with a sword to his throat. The Red King glared venomously at her as she slowly approached, only to have it shift to confusion.
“You are not the Queen of Hearts,” he stated and the woman in red laughed sharply as she came to a stop before him.
Her youthful face could not have been more than twenty five years of age. Though as he stared at her longer…
“Well, you’re only half wrong,” the young woman stated as she idly inspected her nails, “Mother didn’t have the power to bring the Card Kingdoms back under foot after that silly little girl left. She’d not been quite right in the head these past few years, so I figured I should be the good daughter and disconnect her from her problems entirely. She couldn’t offer the people what I can anyway now that I’ve got this.” The Queen flashed her hand to show the Red King the stone of Wonderland resting on her finger and he gritted his teeth.
“Now then,” she smiled triumphantly, “Why don’t you be a good little king and tell me where that marvelous Looking Glass of yours is hidden?”
“You’ll have to search the whole Kingdom if you wish to find,” he ground out.
The Queen of Hearts smiled turned sharp as delighted madness filled her eyes and she trailed one manicured fingernail along his jaw, “Oh…you can believe that I will tear this Kingdom -and your people- apart to find it. Such a shame. You could have saved them all if only you had cooperated.” A look of horror passed across his face as he realized what she had planned, but before he could object, the Queen spun away from him.
“Off with his head.”
He didn’t know exactly how long it had been, but Charles was fairly sure it had been two days at the very least as he’d finished off the last of the rations and water when he’d woken up. The sounds of battle had long since faded away last night but he couldn’t bring himself to leave this safe haven. Not when he wasn’t sure it was over.
Gwen and Pike had never come back. A part of him had already accepted that they never would come back either, but even coming to terms with that fact wasn’t enough to pull him out of this protective shell.
It was only as his stomach rumbled loudly and demanded sustenance that he dared brave the outside world.
His eyes squinted in the harsh sunlight that filtered through the trees as he stood up slowly to look around him, having gotten used to the soft glow of candlelight over the past few days. The woods still seemed much as they had been when Pike had stashed him away but then the small differences started to catch his eye.
A seam of torn grass. A sharp line carved into a tree right at head height. Patches of dark brown and red splattered about.
Without realizing it, his feet had begun walking the path back to the Playing Field and the signs of battle became increasingly common. Charles froze when he saw the first dead body just inside the edge of the forest near the Field. The figure wore red armor and was laying face down in the grass. Still. Lifeless. His heartbeat sped up and he could feel his breath coming in quick gasps so he closed his eyes and dried to calm down with counting breaths. It took several tries but once he was almost normal again, he barely opened his eyes and tried to avoid looking down as he stepped around the body -he shuddered just thinking that word- and continued to walk out to stand atop the hill he’d last stood upon with his Knight and fellow squires. The sight took his breath away.
Everywhere he looked were blood and bodies. Sometimes just body parts, and the majority of them were in the armor of a knight of the Checkerboard Kingdom. Hundreds upon thousands of dead men and women. Charles was just keeping himself together at the shock and sight of it all when a wind swept up the field and a new reality of war assaulted his senses.
The smell of death.
Blood, bowels, and metal suddenly filled his nose and taste buds. It took just a few breaths before Charles collapsed onto all fours and emptied what little there was in his stomach; dry heaving painfully for a few minutes afterwards as he tried to reject this new sensation when he had nothing left to bring up.
He rolled over and cried as he felt his world crashing around him again and the guilt swept up once more. Could he have prevented this? What if he went after Gwen and helped Pike and Sir Blagden? Maybe…maybe it would have helped; maybe he could have saved-
Charles sprang up at that thought. Drawing on unknown wells of strength, he broke into a run and felt like he was flying through the abnormally quiet Tugley Woods. Branches caught his arms and a root tripped him up occasionally but nothing would stop him now. Maybe one thing would have been saved in all this death. Just this one. Please Goddesses, just this one…
It seemed to take an age before he reached the east gate into the City and he tried not to let his heart lose that ray of hope as he continued to see no signs of life anywhere. His feet pounded the familiar path back to his home. Down alleyways and taking every shortcut he’d ever invented until he came to a halt in front of his door. Charles closed his eyes and held the stitch in his side as he attempted to catch his breath as he leaned against the face of his home. Once his heart had slowed enough that he was breathing mostly normally again, he pushed open the door.
There was no one there.
He searched the whole house but he couldn’t find a trace of his Nan or his Mum. There looked to be signs of a struggle in his mum’s room, but no trace of blood or bodies anywhere.
Charles cried himself to sleep on his Nan’s bed that night.
It took almost a week before he could leave the city. A week before he could accept that he was the only survivor. And in that week, his grief and guilt slowly gave root to new feelings.
Numbness…anger…and vengeance.
Almost two months had passed by the time he buried the last body. It seemed fitting that it was his former Knight, Sir Blagden. Charles made a promise to him as he buried his father mentor that he would avenge them. He would train and study, and watch the signs until the time was right and he could help take down the Queen of Hearts. That he would bring them peace in the afterlife and that he would not run again.
It was with this new found bitterness that he saw today was his eleventh birthday as well.
What a merry birthday indeed.