Elegia

[oncenoeda 116]

Spoiler

 

 

 

It was a cold day. Haddock had fallen behind from the group, delayed due to the need to squeeze the lemon. He was a ways off from the rendezvous point when he spotted the tracks. 

 

His heart sank as he saw the flecks of blood contrasting with the crisp white snow.

 

"Fark..." he whispered, lowering his form as he flitted from tree to tree, keeping an arrow nocked in his longbow. The young man took a deep breath before crossing a large, icy plain the frost bit deep into his flesh. His snowshoes and poncho allowed him more comfort than his companions who had passed before him it seemed, based on the tracks he spotted in the deep snow. It was then that he begun to see the corpses of dozens of ghouls littering the area before him, as well as several wounded live ones. The young man lifted his weapon and repeatedly loosed his arrows at the slow moving targets, hitting each one accurately in the head. He then continued his advance. 

 

Clang

 

Haddock paused, furrowing his brow as he strained his ears to hear through the gusts of wind that often swept through the valley he found himself in.

 

"Argh!"

 

Haddock gasped, kicking off his snowshoes and slinging his bow across his back before swiftly scaling the steep, crumbling hill before him. Gravel cascaded down into the snow with every step and grasp. Eventually, the young man reached the top. It was there he saw a horrifying sight. At least four black-clad figures littered the immediate area. It was hard to tell who was still alive, or who was a friend and who was a foe. Haddock lowered his form and crouch-ran behind some bushes. He pried the frosted plants apart and saw his master, Oan, locked in combat with two assailants. He did not appear to be faring well.

 

The young man panicked and ripped an arrow from the quiver at his hip and drew the string of his longbow back, nocking the broadhead in place and releasing his grip. The arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself in the arm of one of the assailants. Haddock ducked down and nocked another arrow. He rose to his full height again to aim over the bushes, his eyes were set on Oan's assailant when out of his peripheral vision he spotted a swiftly advancing black shrouded figure. A vague pointed shape was held infront of it, the metal end of it glinting in the light. Haddock turned and swiftly set loose the broadhead. 

 

The projectile pierced the shrouded figure's neck, leaving a hole through which Haddock could see the night sky. It groaned and slowed briefly, before surging forth once more like a terrible wind of horror and death. Haddock stared on with fear in his eye, his inaction allowed the being to close in and thrust its weapon at Haddock, but the nimble young man managed to throw himself aside, sending him careening over the edge of the steep hill he had scaled just before. 

 

Haddock slid down the steep edge, his legs ankle-deep in gravel and loose rocks as the debris showered down below him. He reached a ledge and turned on his heel, ripping an arrow from his quiver once more, the desperate, inaccurate movement causing several of the projectiles to fall out of the quiver and into the snow below. As he turned his head the shrouded being was already on him. He manage to loose one last arrow, the projectile tearing the fabric of his assailants hood and dissapearing over the ledge above. The metallic head of the Ashen's halberd darted forwards, the metal glinting once more in the moonlight before the tip of the spear ripped through Haddock's chainmail and poncho and smashing through his sternum.

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

Before he could mourn the loss of his last arrow the wind was knocked out of him and Haddock was thrown back by the force of the blow, falling backwards and into the thick snow that he had walked through before. A crimson tinge quickly appeared around the gap left in his chest and with it came at first dread, and anger. Haddock tore his trusty knife from his belt and prepared to fight until the last breath, but soon it bought an odd sense of calm and warmth despite his frigid surroundings. His vision became blurry and he looked upon the drifting, dark figure hovering infront of him. It lifted its halberd high in the air and Haddock's grip left the hand with which he clasped his knife so tightly. The sound of rushing wind filled Haddock's ears and he looked up at the sky, seeing a single crow fly past.

 

His lips parted, now parched for some reason. "God take me." he whispered, his voice weak and shaky. He closed his eye as the Ashen's metal sailed into him like a knife through warm butter. His chest burned with a deep, sickening pain as blood burst from his mouth and nostrils, his breath escaping the crimson tide through thick bubbles. As he choked on his own lifeblood, visions of his home village came to mind and like many men before him, his last words were: 

 

"I love you Ma."

 

He went limp and his vision darkened as the pain once again left him, instead being replaced with warmth and calmness.

 

Haddock Plissken, the son of buttermakers and the apprentice of Oan Frondson of Brevis lay dead in the snow, only a few meters from his mentor, his eye half open and glazed over as it stares at the sky for eternity. May he rest in peace.

[Sarcof 98]

Oan of Brevis continued fighting on nearby, before finally meeting his end. He ascended to the Seven Skies, alongside his young apprentice.