The Monarch: Days of Dusk

Chapter 7. The Singing Ruins

Anton

Cold.

I was shivering. Crossing the river Avant was even more treacherous than I thought.

With soaking wet clothes I ran with as much strength as I could muster. Checking every now and then that the jewel was in my pocket. The ring was feeling a little warm, eerily so.

The sky was a overcast, a light breeze was flowing, making me shiver harder. I had taken off my clothes and squeezed out all the water that I could from them. Then I wore them back on. They were still cold and uncomfortable but I really couldn’t go around in a forest naked. Parts of them were drying off anyway.

After some time, I reached the edge of the forest. The dark, ancients trees seeming sinister. “Do not let it all go in vain”, grandma’s last words echoed in my head.

I won’t, I promise.

As I was about to enter the forest, I looked above. The clouds were all starting to dissipate and I could see the stars at some places. Even though the moon was covered a little, it’s light still radiated through them, as if to dissipate them with long pale fingers

I was now in the forest. Gazing forward, I felt a certain fear.

I have to do this.

I entered the forest. It was dark inside, the trees looming over, blocking what little light managed to enter. Still, I moved on. For hours I walked.

As I moved closer to the centre of the forest though, I began to hear faint whisperings. I also sensed someone or…something moving past me every now and then, like a sudden gust of wind that came and went in a moment.

“Darkness is playing tricks on you.” I said aloud, trying to soothe my already frantic mind.

Then I felt a boulder. I saw it closely, long and slender it was. It was falling over others like itself.

I knew that this forest was ancient and that this supposedly had ruins from a long lost culture. Presumably older than the first kingdom. Common wisdom said they were of the fair folk.

But common wisdom also said that banshees cry to bring death and headless horsemen roam around looking for their heads….

Still, I felt a really profound sense of amazement knowing that they were so very ancient. I wondered about the people that built them.

Running my hand over them, the smooth stone was cracked in places but still fairly intact. My fingers sensed intricate carvings at the top.

“So these are the ruins….” I said to myself.

I kept walking. Over time however, it seemed that new voices started whispering along with the original faint ones.

Or you are losing your mind in the middle of a dark forest.

On and on I went. The ruins appeared more and more now and anticipation grew in my heart. What did Grandma wanted me to find here?

Then suddenly the forest ended and I stepped into a clearing, a glade.

The moon shone above, bright and below it, in the middle of the glade, stood a ruin with long pillars strewn here and there. The whisperings had now coalesced into a melody whose words I did not understand. It was sung in a woman’s voice, so sweet and sad that even though I could not understand a single word of it, my eyes still teared up. It was giving me goosebumps all over.

I walked up to the ruin. The smooth white pillars standing the test of time.

In the middle, was a white stone block upon which rested a broken stateau. It was a woman’s stateau as a head lay against the block. The broken stateau would have been quite a sight to behold in its time. Now it was just a remnent of a bygone age.

I bent down and peered closely at the face. It’s left eye was glistening but the right eye was not. I touched the left eye and instantly knew what I had to do.

The Jewel.

I carefully took out the jewel from my pocket and inserted it into the space. Just as the stone set inside, the singing reached a crescendo, tones pitching high. I covered my ears but to no affect. The singing seemed to be coming from inside my head.

For a moment, my head felt like it would explode. Then all of a sudden, everything went bright. Nothing was visible, no sound either. I couldn’t feel anything but the ground beneath my feet. Then I started to see again, flickering shadows, people screaming. Slowly the flickering visions coalesced and I could see clearly.

I was in a stone chamber. Before me, lay a beautiful woman, blood pooled around her.

She was wearing white robes in an unknown fashion. The flowing robes were lined with gold. She had gold rings, golden arm rings across her bare arms. Her hair was also golden and her skin so pale it seemed almost faintly luminescent. Long golden lashes and an unnaturally beautiful face with piercing blue eyes, shining like sapphires.

The only thing that broke my heart other than her beauty was the fact that she had a dagger buried in her stomach. She looked like a broken bird, unable to fly again.

She raised her sad eyes. Someone came towards her, not noticing me and stood in front of her. Dark clothes and a bloody sword in hand. It was a slender girl, with short dark hair and purple eyes and with the same pallor however it looked much colder on her. Her face was furious.

I felt dread for the woman in white. The bloody sword sending chills down my spine.

Then the woman in black knelt down, taking the golden woman’s hand.

I was there but not exactly there. I deduced it must be some sort of a vision, a glimpse into the past. I thought.

The golden woman said something but I didn’t understand it. Then she pulled back her hand and it fell down, lifeless. The dark robed woman choked a sob as she closed her eyes, her face contorted in pain and agony. Then she opened it and as the tears fell, she opened her hand and peered at it. It was gemstone. Like the one that I had and the more I looked at it, the more I got convinced it was the exact same one. The world shifted again, violently. I screamed as I fell back on the ground. Everything went dark. I kept blinking my eyes but to no effect. Then slowly colours emerged amd shapes took form and the world opened up to me again.

My world. My time.

I looked at the dilapidated stateau in front of me. That vision could not have been real.

What was that? Who were those people?

The singing became mellow and then stopped. The last note still hung in the air for a while, a sad twinge. The moon still shone bright, shining light upon the ruins below, ruins that sing their own tales.