1. Start
There was a cold wind blowing through the field. The wind kept Wilhelm cool as he worked hard at tilling his field. After a half days work he finally allowed himself a brief respite. He jammed the sharp end of his hoe into the ground and leaned on it. His eyes scanned the barren field before becoming fixed on the edge of the forest. The woods walled the east side of his field like a fence. Tall beautiful trees towering over the field cast a protective shadow over some of his plots. Using the sleeve of his heavy dark coat he wiped the sweat off his forehead. Even in the relatively cool weather hard work caused him to sweat profusely.
Wilhelm's mind wandered for several moments. His eyes then suddenly caught sight of something emerging from the woods. The figure was so far away that he could not discern what it was. It appeared to be small. Could it be an animal? He pulled the hoe from the ground and held it in both hands. Cautiously he began to walk in the direction of the figure. When he was about ten meters away he made out the figure to be that of a person. He walked closer and saw that it was a woman. No, it was a girl. It was a young girl, a child. She was dressed in a torn and battered white dress. Her disheveled hair was blonde under a layer of dirt and mud. Her grime filled face made it hard to recognize but when Wilhelm finally came close enough he instantly knew who she was. She was a child whom he had seen many times running and playing in town. Her name was Rebecca. Although he had never spoken to her, it seemed natural to him to see the young girl running and playing alive with energy. Now when he stared into her eyes they were empty. Wilhelm screamed.
The cool wind blew equally strong through the shutters of a nearby cottage. Nestled over a hill, the small cottage appeared quite welcoming from the outside. Flowers lined the walls and led into a small garden behind the cottage. Smoke rose up from the small chimney and the shutters were wide open. Sitting prominently atop a small hill behind the cottage was a crucifix-adorned gravestone. Inside the cottage were all the comforts a person could need. The first room entering the cottage was a small dining area. It was simply a large wood table coupled with simple wooden chairs. The walls were decorated with some paintings. An extravagant home, a portrait of a rather large family, and a portrait a beautiful woman with blonde hair were the subject of some of the paintings. Through the doorway on the right was the kitchen. Keeping with the rest of the cottage the kitchen was nothing out of the ordinary. Through the doorway at the end of the kitchen was something far out of the ordinary, especially for a small cottage right by the woods. The room at the back of the cottage was larger than any other room before hand. The walls of the room were lined with shelves filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books. In the center of the room was a desk covered in books and papers. Lying upon the desk face down in a book was a figure in a dark green cloak. Its hands were curled around a nearby candleholder whose candle had been long since extinguished. Adorning one of the cloaked figure's fingers was a single silver ring. The ring was not jeweled but had a small engraving of a skull. The skull seemed to subtly move as though it were not fastened to the rest of the ring. The movement of the skull seemed to stop for a moment and then suddenly an emerald mist began to rise up from the skull's engraved eye sockets. The mist slowly began to take shape until the mist had transformed into a clearly formed skull. The emerald tinted skull hovered above the cloaked figure and looked down at it.
"Working until exhaustion...then sleep...again." The skull spoke in a rough, raspy, and elder voice.
"Awaken child."
The figure began to stir, as it seemed to register the sound of the spectral skull. The figure's hand went toward its hood and pulled it back. Twice orphaned and driven through the pits and dungeons of this earth's most dangerous castle, the stunning young woman's face was weighed by wisdom and experience beyond her youthful appearance. Carrie ran her hand through her pitch-black hair and yawned loudly.
"You're no rooster, as always, Yorick."
"That is because in my previous life I was never one to begin with."
"No sense of humor either," Carrie whispered.
"I sense that we will soon no longer be alone."
Carrie rose up from her chair and stretched her arms and legs. When she finished, her attention returned to the heaps of books on her desk. She quickly perused several pages before closing the book on the top of the pile and returned it to its place on the bookshelf. Carrie looked at the floating spectral skull.
"I have an idea. Why don't you disappear back to where you belong before you frighten off any visitors we might be having. I'd wager they're from the town." She extended her hand out to Yorick and he quickly disappeared into the ring.
"Probably here to yell rude curses at me. Wanting to blame me for some cow that rolled over and died." Carrie mumbled to herself. She began to straighten out her cloak when she heard a knock on the door. She was naturally surprised. Townspeople normally did not knock. They were too afraid of her. Most believed her to be an evil witch. That was something that she did not take very personally. After all, she didn't give witches such a bad name. She had Actrise and others like her to blame for that. Nevertheless, a knock on the door was not something she was used to. Perhaps they had taken to throwing rocks at her door again. No, couldn't be, she cast a spell to put an end to that. Quickly she walked towards the front door and swung it open with the turn of a wrist. The man that stood on the other side was quite astounded when the door opened by itself. Carrie recognized the man. It was a rather poor farmer whose fields were only about a mile away. Wilhelm was his name if she remembered correctly. He seemed like a nice fellow. Carrie couldn't know for sure, she was never able to socialize much with the locals. They were always to busy succumbing to old superstitions about evil witches stealing children from their beds. That is why the first sentence out of Wilhelm's mouth surprised Carrie even more than the knock.
"We need your help."
There was a cold wind blowing through the field. The wind kept Wilhelm cool as he worked hard at tilling his field. After a half days work he finally allowed himself a brief respite. He jammed the sharp end of his hoe into the ground and leaned on it. His eyes scanned the barren field before becoming fixed on the edge of the forest. The woods walled the east side of his field like a fence. Tall beautiful trees towering over the field cast a protective shadow over some of his plots. Using the sleeve of his heavy dark coat he wiped the sweat off his forehead. Even in the relatively cool weather hard work caused him to sweat profusely.
Wilhelm's mind wandered for several moments. His eyes then suddenly caught sight of something emerging from the woods. The figure was so far away that he could not discern what it was. It appeared to be small. Could it be an animal? He pulled the hoe from the ground and held it in both hands. Cautiously he began to walk in the direction of the figure. When he was about ten meters away he made out the figure to be that of a person. He walked closer and saw that it was a woman. No, it was a girl. It was a young girl, a child. She was dressed in a torn and battered white dress. Her disheveled hair was blonde under a layer of dirt and mud. Her grime filled face made it hard to recognize but when Wilhelm finally came close enough he instantly knew who she was. She was a child whom he had seen many times running and playing in town. Her name was Rebecca. Although he had never spoken to her, it seemed natural to him to see the young girl running and playing alive with energy. Now when he stared into her eyes they were empty. Wilhelm screamed.
The cool wind blew equally strong through the shutters of a nearby cottage. Nestled over a hill, the small cottage appeared quite welcoming from the outside. Flowers lined the walls and led into a small garden behind the cottage. Smoke rose up from the small chimney and the shutters were wide open. Sitting prominently atop a small hill behind the cottage was a crucifix-adorned gravestone. Inside the cottage were all the comforts a person could need. The first room entering the cottage was a small dining area. It was simply a large wood table coupled with simple wooden chairs. The walls were decorated with some paintings. An extravagant home, a portrait of a rather large family, and a portrait a beautiful woman with blonde hair were the subject of some of the paintings. Through the doorway on the right was the kitchen. Keeping with the rest of the cottage the kitchen was nothing out of the ordinary. Through the doorway at the end of the kitchen was something far out of the ordinary, especially for a small cottage right by the woods. The room at the back of the cottage was larger than any other room before hand. The walls of the room were lined with shelves filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books. In the center of the room was a desk covered in books and papers. Lying upon the desk face down in a book was a figure in a dark green cloak. Its hands were curled around a nearby candleholder whose candle had been long since extinguished. Adorning one of the cloaked figure's fingers was a single silver ring. The ring was not jeweled but had a small engraving of a skull. The skull seemed to subtly move as though it were not fastened to the rest of the ring. The movement of the skull seemed to stop for a moment and then suddenly an emerald mist began to rise up from the skull's engraved eye sockets. The mist slowly began to take shape until the mist had transformed into a clearly formed skull. The emerald tinted skull hovered above the cloaked figure and looked down at it.
"Working until exhaustion...then sleep...again." The skull spoke in a rough, raspy, and elder voice.
"Awaken child."
The figure began to stir, as it seemed to register the sound of the spectral skull. The figure's hand went toward its hood and pulled it back. Twice orphaned and driven through the pits and dungeons of this earth's most dangerous castle, the stunning young woman's face was weighed by wisdom and experience beyond her youthful appearance. Carrie ran her hand through her pitch-black hair and yawned loudly.
"You're no rooster, as always, Yorick."
"That is because in my previous life I was never one to begin with."
"No sense of humor either," Carrie whispered.
"I sense that we will soon no longer be alone."
Carrie rose up from her chair and stretched her arms and legs. When she finished, her attention returned to the heaps of books on her desk. She quickly perused several pages before closing the book on the top of the pile and returned it to its place on the bookshelf. Carrie looked at the floating spectral skull.
"I have an idea. Why don't you disappear back to where you belong before you frighten off any visitors we might be having. I'd wager they're from the town." She extended her hand out to Yorick and he quickly disappeared into the ring.
"Probably here to yell rude curses at me. Wanting to blame me for some cow that rolled over and died." Carrie mumbled to herself. She began to straighten out her cloak when she heard a knock on the door. She was naturally surprised. Townspeople normally did not knock. They were too afraid of her. Most believed her to be an evil witch. That was something that she did not take very personally. After all, she didn't give witches such a bad name. She had Actrise and others like her to blame for that. Nevertheless, a knock on the door was not something she was used to. Perhaps they had taken to throwing rocks at her door again. No, couldn't be, she cast a spell to put an end to that. Quickly she walked towards the front door and swung it open with the turn of a wrist. The man that stood on the other side was quite astounded when the door opened by itself. Carrie recognized the man. It was a rather poor farmer whose fields were only about a mile away. Wilhelm was his name if she remembered correctly. He seemed like a nice fellow. Carrie couldn't know for sure, she was never able to socialize much with the locals. They were always to busy succumbing to old superstitions about evil witches stealing children from their beds. That is why the first sentence out of Wilhelm's mouth surprised Carrie even more than the knock.
"We need your help."