The world and the white light of the moon drifted further away from Voltus as he slowly plummeted to the lake bed, leaving a crimson trail in his wake. By this point he had lost consciousness, the frigid temperatures of the high atmosphere and the sudden collision onto the water's surface knocking him cold. As his body gently touched the gravelly lake bed, the trail of bubbles from his mouth ceased and he was just another shape at the bottom of the gloom, waiting to be eroded by time.

However fate had something else in store.

The horse's hooves clacked along the cobbled path, pulling an empty cart and a dishevelled woman, her hair was black and long and grew to the small of her black, and her face had the gaunt, white glow of a ghost. Marie had been robbed, returning from market with a cart of goods, assaulted by a band of highway men and forced to unload her meagre supplies into their cart. Though they let her keep the horse and trap, seeing no use in the rickety wood and flee-bitten stallion.

Marie was shaken, holding the reins in uneasy hands and guiding the horse and cart through the moonlit back roads. She took a turn that brought her close to the lake's edge, mere feet from the shore; she watched the water lap gently at the gravelly beach, backwards and forwards, trying to take her mind off of the traumatic event. As she watched the waves roll along the banks, a black shape washed to shore, slowly and unsurely being pushed up the stones until it stopped and the water could push no further. It was large and it glinted in the moon, looking at it closely in confusion and interest, she gasped, it was a body. Marie pulled back on the reins and the skinny pull horse whinnied to a stop, she clambered hastily down the side of the cart and staggered to the shore, tripping over her own feet and swearing.

She slipped on the slick pebbles of the beach and went tumbling into the water, her head submerging for a moment before she brought it back up, gasping. Marie, her dress and long hair plastered to her stick of a body, splashed and stumbled to the body and flipped it over. She was panicking, not knowing what to do, she gripped the shoulders of the man and gave him a shake, he did not respond; she brought her hands together to form a mallet and she brought it down on his chest, a bauble of water escaped his mouth. She did it agin and brought her ear to his chest, no breathing; she did it again and again several times, franticly trying to coax some life into the still military man, she brought her ear to his chest and sighed with relief, there was breath, faint breath.

She laughed mirthlessly, manically, at the sound of the shallow breaths, she thought all was well but when she brought her head from his chest, she almost wretched. Marie's small, child-like hands were crimson with the man's blood, then her eyes wondered to the jagged wound in his abdomen and she did wretch.

Wiping her mouth of her sick, she grabbed the military man by the his coat and began lugging him slowly up the beach, her eyes shifting around in fear that the killer might have still been around. By the time she pulled the soldier up to the road, she was panting, the exertion of dragging such a large man, breaking her back. Once she made it to the carriage, clutching the man to her chest and dragging him backwards, she looked up and groaned, "Baise moi." she groaned, 'how am I to get him up there?' she thought to herself.

After many attempts, she managed to get him up onto the cart, though not before bruising his face, by dropping him multiple times. Clambering up into her seat, she looked to her side and thought how strange this must have looked, she snapped the reins and the horse started, pulling the half dead prince and the drenched girl.

"Will he recover doctor?" she asked meekly, not being a woman of medicine. Marie had brought the man to her home and dragged him into a guest room, leaving him in the company of her cat, Kat, while she fetched the doctor from town. They had arrived at the house just before dawn and the doctor had worked in the room until the sun was well up. The doctor wiped his brow with a handkerchief and pocketed it.

" Si Dieu le veut, he should wake up today," replied the man of medicine, clasping his bag shut and hiding the bloodied rags and implements within it, "now regarding payment-" Marie cut him off with a groan, she was penniless, not having a husband to support her or a family to leech from, "I have taken that man's sword as payment."

"You can't just take his sword from him, Cest pas juste!" Cried Marie aloud, not understanding how he could just steal the blade from the unconscious man.

"Don't tell me what is just, Miss Corneille!" he snapped, glaring at her before softening his look, realizing he went too far, "I've helped you many times in the past and I have not taken payment because I knew you could not afford it, but when an opportunity arises, I will take what it my right." with that he nodded to her and turned around, heading towards the door and the watery autumn sunlight, Marie sighed and followed the doctor to the door, grabbing his sleeve before he could leave. The doctor turned around.

"Je suis désolé, Doctor, my words were too coarse" She looked to the ground, ashamed, her father would have thanked him, so would her mother, 'they would be ashamed' she thought. The doctor looked at her with mixed emotions, mostly pity and shook her hand off gently.

"Look after him, it appears that he's been through a lot."

"I will doctor, merci." As the doctor stepped put of the door, she creaked it shut behind her, slowly as if to emphasize the creek of dry wood and squeaky hinges. Her knees went weak for a moment as the weight of her situation dawned on her, she leaned on the door and slid down to a sitting position. She could see the man laying in the bed, comatose, he was bandaged all over, one rapped around his head, another around his torso, the rest were probably hidden under his blanket.

She laughed mirthlessly, "What do I do now?"

Arguably much worse then the first chapter...