The feathers gently shifted in the breeze coming through the window. Silence hung thickly around them as everyone fixed their eyes on Lord Barkis' corpse. They waited for any hint of movement, such as a twitch of an eyelid or thump of a finger–but the body remained still.
Barkis' soul had finally been stripped from him.
A wave of relief settled into Victor. Ever since he had learned of the existence of Lord Barkis and what he had done to Emily, Victor had felt a deep seated animosity and rage lying within him. Knowing that the man walked free, facing no consequences for his actions, had filled Victor with an insurmountable amount of disgust. Now that Barkis was truly gone, unable to hurt anyone else ever again, Victor was given a sense of justice and tranquility he hadn't realized how desperately he needed.
"Did he flinch?" Victoria asked, breaking the silence. She pointed towards his face.
"I saw that too," Julian confirmed. "Wait, there–under his eye."
Victor narrowed his eyes on the spot. Barkis didn't move, but his blue skin began to slowly peel off of his cheek. Victor stared in amazement as the peeling started to make a delicate flapping motion. It morphed and stretched into wings, detaching itself from Barkis' corpse and sprouting spindly legs. Fluttering away from the body, hundreds of other blue butterflies followed suit and drifted after the first. Every inch of skin and bone transformed itself into one of the beautiful creatures, soon developing into a swarm that danced out the window and up towards the sky.
After the last one had flown from the room–leaving no trace left of Barkis behind–the Hell Raven politely nodded at Victor and the rest. The bird then soared out of the room after the cluster of butterflies. The sun was now making its way up towards the clouds, casting beams of light that made their wings shimmer.
"Their souls were freed," Victor heard Pastor Galswells concede behind him.
"What?" Victor asked, turning towards him.
Pastor Galswells stood gazing out at the butterflies as they traveled into the distance and out of view.
"The ones that Lord Barkis killed," Pastor Galswells explained, bowing his head respectfully. "His demise finally set them free."
It hadn't occurred to Victor that Barkis may have harbored trapped souls within him. Just how many poor girls had been lying in wait, stuck in a state of purgatory because no one had ever found their bodies or even learned what had happened to them? Before, killing Barkis had felt like a bit of a selfish endeavor–not that Victor had particularly cared–but now he realized just how important his defeat had been to so many others.
There was still so much he didn't know about the procedures surrounding death. Where or how the souls got to the next stage of the afterlife, Victor didn't know–but watching the butterflies sail off into the breaking dawn was both beautiful and somber. He hoped that wherever they ended up that they were relieved from the pain they had gone through.
"May they rest in peace," Pastor Galswells said mournfully.
A shrill sound suddenly pierced through the quiet morning, drawing their attention to the heart of the town.
Barely audible, the group were just able to make out the sound of the Town Crier's bell.
"What's he saying?" Julian asked, rushing to the window.
Victoria cupped her ear and squinted her eyes shut to concentrate.
"He made note of all the gunshots," she relayed to them, shaking her head.
"Damn." Julian slammed the window shut and quickly closed the blinds. "People are going to start talking and trying to find the source."
Victoria looked around nervously, uncertain of what to do. She went over to the door to the office and bolted it shut.
"My husband has probably awoken by now and noticed I'm gone. Once he lets the others know I'm missing…," Victoria shuddered.
"Head back now," Julian said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Say you were feeling ill and needed some fresh air. I won't let anyone see me, I promise."
"No," Emily quavered, attempting to sit up and lean against Victor. "You two should escape". More blood dripped from her dress and created a small pool on the floor. "Everyone will be distracted by the gunshots. And you have a gun to defend yourselves."
Victor shook his head and attempted to tear off part of his suit to further prevent more blood from spilling from Emily's wound. The fabric held tight though, no matter how hard he tugged and pulled. While just hours before Victor had been thankful for the high quality suit his mother had bought for him, he now couldn't hate it more.
"Try not to move too much my love," Victor whispered to her, carefully placing his hands around her in order to stabilize her. The corset luckily provided enough structure to not cause much pulling or twisting of the wound, but he didn't want to take any risks.
"Here." Victoria bent down and removed her scarf. "Use this."
Victor stretched the fabric as much as he could and tied it around Emily's waist. The blood had now completely drenched the handkerchief. While it had aided in slowing down the bleeding, it hadn't stopped it. Sooner or later, she would lose too much.
Victor grabbed Barkis' gun and pointed it at Pastor Galswells. Never mind the fact that Victor had no idea how to use it.
The older man didn't even flinch.
"You have to wed us," Victor demanded. "If Emily dies like this, she won't get to be free like the others."
He didn't know if the threat would even work. The Pastor was particularly stubborn in his ways and Victor wouldn't doubt that the man would rather die than participate in something that he believed to be sinful. But they were out of options and Victor was grasping at straws.
"Victoria and Julian could borrow your family's carriage, couldn't they, darling?" Emily asked Victor. "People wouldn't expect that it would be them."
Victor leaned down to cup her face with his hand. Even in the face of permanent death, she still was always thinking of others.
He couldn't lose her again. He wouldn't.
Looking over to the limp body of Dearil lying on the floor, Victor felt a wave of dread fill him. Even if they finally wed and he drank the wine…how would Emily get back? They had never thought of a circumstance in which the bird would die. Without Dearil, was the spell ruined? Was Emily now unable to return to the Land of the Dead?
"Emily," Victor pleaded. "What if you are unable to get back without Dearil? How are you and my father supposed to switch back with one another?"
"Oh Victor, you are acting like I'm going to die any second." She smiled at him sweetly, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek. "I'm doing alright for now. If they can use your family's carriage, they can leave and escape. We promised to help them."
Victor sighed. He knew she was right about Victoria and Julian, but it was hard to think about anyone else beside her at the moment. It was simultaneously exasperating and admiring how caring of others she could be in such a situation.
Quickly regarding the other couple, Victor told them to take the carriage and flee.
"Are you sure?" Victoria fretted, taking Emily's hand in hers. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"
"Once Victor drinks the wine, he can go downstairs and inform the Elders. They would be able to perform the spell to switch us back," Emily assured, holding her wound and wincing slightly. "It's not like I haven't been through this before." She gave a halfhearted giggle.
Victoria bit her lip, peering up at Victor for his thoughts.
Without Dearil, going down to the Elders was the best chance that they had. They could no doubt have some way to bring Emily back. After all, the two withering skeletons had never warned them about the risk of Dearil dying. If it had been such a critical component, he was sure the Elder's would have mentioned it. For all they knew, once Victor drank the wine, everything would turn out the way it was supposed to be. Dearil might not have needed to assist Emily back at all.
Victor wanted to leave nothing to chance, however.
"Emily's right. The sooner I drink the wine, the better. If you two stick around and wait, you might not have another chance to get out together."
Victoria regarded Julian wordlessly. Julian looked from her to Victor before eventually closing his eyes and exhaling heavily.
"Alright. If you two really think you'll be fine."
Victoria got up and hastily returned to Julian's side.
"Thank you, Victor." Julian bowed in gratitude. "I know a friend who lives a few hours from town that we can stay with. We'll have the carriage returned to you by dusk."
"I wish you both well." Victoria smiled, pulling up the hood of her cloak. "You two deserve it. I hope one day we are better able to properly thank you."
After retrieving her musket, the two hurried off into the morning mist. Victor prayed that the two made it this time. For everything Victoria had gone through over the last few weeks, she had earned her own happy ending.
Victor brought his attention back to the matter at hand. He raised the gun to point it at Pastor Galswells once more. He was surprised to see that Galswells hadn't moved a foot. Why was he just standing there? Did he not take Victor seriously?
"I don't wish to bring any harm upon you like this, but I will do whatever is necessary to protect her," Victor warned.
The Pastor held up a hand to quiet Victor.
"Threats won't be necessary," Pastor Galswells said, hobbling over to the desk and picking up the bottle of wine. He poured the liquid into the goblet before settling the bottle back down on the desk.
"I'll do it," he said, turning to face Victor.
Victor's eyes narrowed in suspicion. How had Pastor Galswells agreed so easily when just moments before, he had been willing to do almost anything to prevent them from getting married? Was it some sort of trick?
"...Just like that?" Victor questioned.
"When I first saw the dead coming down upon my church, speaking about your sacrifice of dying to wed a corpse, I thought it must surely be the devils doing," Pastor Galswells explained. "I figured you surely must have been possessed by some sort of demon or evil spirit." He took the candles and the goblet from the desk and placed them on the floor beside the couple. "I thought you were consumed by a necrophilic lust. Anyone who heard your absurd ramblings thought nothing less."
Victor focused on the Pastor's hand as he smoothly ignited one of the candles. Victor didn't understand. What was he saying?
"But even I can admit that calling a poor soul such a her an evil spirit is erroneous. I think I can see now that you truly do belong down there," Pastor Galswells sighed. "It's still quite unnatural. Seeing you two together though…it is undeniable that you love each other. There seems to be an exception in this particular case. Or rather, I'm making an exception. Pray be that the Lord does not later look upon me in disappointment for this decision."
Victor's eyes widened in shock. His initial reaction was to not believe what he was hearing, but he knew the Pastor was never one to lie, no matter how harsh the truth was. Though Pastor Galswells face seemed not exactly sure of the choice he had just made, Victor could see that he had genuinely gained some sort of compassion for them.
"Th-thank you," Victor stuttered, for the first time not feeling so uncomfortable about meeting the pastor's eyes.
"You better get your vows right this time, Master Van Dort," Pastor Galswells looked down at him.
Victor held onto Emily tightly, gripping her hand.
"Of course," Victor replied, nodding his head towards the older man in appreciation. He glanced down at Emily. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," she choked, her eyes brimming with tears as she grinned up at him. "I'm ready."
Pastor Galswells silently nodded and gestured towards Victor. Clutching the ribbon around his neck, Victor tore away the vial and handed it to Emily.
"With this hand," Victor recited, raising his free hand. "I will lift your sorrows." He picked up the goblet. "Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine."
Emily squeezed his hand and then laced her fingers into his.
"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows," she trembled. "Your cup will never empty." Uncorking the small vial of poison, she poured it into Victor's cup. "For I will be your wine."
Victor raised the goblet to his lips. Just as the cold metal rim grazed his tongue, he felt Emily's hand wrap over his, pulling the cup down. He raised an eyebrow in confusion.
Her sparkling eyes bore into his. "Are you sure?" she whispered.
Bringing a hand over to stroke her hair, he gave her a reassuring smile.
"More sure than anything," he whispered back.
He didn't need to prepare himself for the act. Not an ounce of fear or doubt lied within him as he raised his cup once more. A mixture of sweet and sour, the poisonous wine flowed swiftly into his body.
While they had opted for a mixture of poison and regular wine rather than the full bottle of Wine of Ages like before, Victor knew his time was soon coming to an end.
He set down the goblet and picked up one of the candles.
"With this candle, I will light your way in darkness."
The wick of the candle joined the flame of the other, sparking its own small light. He set the lit candle back into its holder as he felt the poison sink down into his chest and wrap around his heart. Gripping his chest as the pain settled in, he gleamed at Emily and took her hand into his once more.
"With this ring, I ask you to be mine," he finished, guiding the ring onto her finger.
They would finally be united forever. Despite the burning sensation overtaking his entire body, he had never felt more in harmony.
He collapsed onto the floor beside Emily, no longer able to keep himself upright. The room spun around him, just as it had the first time Emily had kissed him and taken him down to the Land of the Dead.
As the darkness seeped into his vision, the last thing he heard was Emily say the final lines to their vows.
"With this ring." She slid his wedding band over his finger. "I ask you to be mine."
She leaned over him, softly pressing her lips to his.
Then everything went black.
A patch of glistening snow slowly melted into the dirt, pooling water around a sprouting bluebell flower. The snow had ceased to fall for a few days now, signaling the beginning of Spring.
Pastor Galswells stared at the unmarked grave. He had decided on burying the Van Dort boy in an older part of the graveyard. Almost no one visited the graveyard aside from when a funeral took place or the rare times when an individual wanted to bring flowers to a loved ones grave. This part of the graveyard especially had never seen any visitors for many years now.
Despite knowing that the likelihood of anyone stumbling upon the grave was highly unlikely, the Pastor had decided not to engrave a stone with the Van Dort name. It was possibly overly precautious, but the Van Dort family had suffered from enough negative talk already. He felt guilty that many of the dramatics had stemmed from himself. It was the least that he could do.
He knew from the moment he'd spoken to William after his return back to town that he had not been away on work business. The magic and spells of the Land of the Dead were not well known amongst the living, but the Pastor knew instantly that William must have been swept back into the land down under somehow. He had heard from the Town Crier that William had been seen suddenly standing in front of his home wearing only his sleep garments. William had appeared confused before dashing into his home.
This information luckily hadn't been interesting enough to warrant an announcement for the whole town to hear. Pastor Galswells had only learned of it later that night. From the moment Victor had drank the poison and Victoria had fled with her lover, Pastor Galswells had been left alone to not only deal with an injured Pastor Louis, but also Victor's body. He was fortunate that the corpse bride had been taken back to the land down under in a sweeping of golden dust and black birds that had somehow appeared in the room.
Once he had been left to himself, he managed to squeeze Victor's body into one of the cabinets in the office. It felt overwhelmingly wrong to do so, but it had been the only solution that he could think of at the time. Pastor Louis' condition had been a more pressing matter at the moment. No one would enter Mr. Van Dort's office, so long as Pastor Galswells was able to escape without anyone seeing him.
By good chance, due to the office being on the edge of town, he had been able to haul a semi-conscious Pastor Louis out onto the street. He could see some people approaching from the distance, curious to the source of the gunshots. From the street, he had made his cry for help.
His lie wasn't particularly believable. Though, the claim that the Pastor had been shot by a stray bullet coming from the woods was better than no explanation. Even if Pastor Galswells hadn't been in anyone's favor over the past couple of days, they still wouldn't jump to suspect that he had shot anyone.
It was also quite obvious from his age and occupation that he would be clueless when it came to operating a gun.
The injured pastor had quickly been whisked away to the town's doctor. Lord Barkis had apparently been a pretty lousy shot for the most part, having not hit a critical area. With some bed rest and patching up, Pastor Louis was recovering just fine.
The body of Victor was a more difficult problem. Once he had made sure that the other pastor would be just fine, Pastor Galswells had then needed assistance in moving Victor. It had only seemed right to consult William. He deserved to see and bury his own son.
When Pastor Galswells had approached him, William had been understandably on guard and suspicious. After he had informed William of Victor's body, however, all defenses had disappeared.
"Show me," William had said, gesturing with his cane.
Even with the extra hands, it had still been a struggle for the two older men to move the body. Victor was surprisingly heavier than he appeared, especially due to the dead weight.
They had to wait until the sun went down in order to take Victor from the office. It would have raised too many questions from both William's employees and any onlookers if they had taken action during the day. It had ended up being better that way anyhow, as it gave William time to mourn his son. William had spent hours staring at Victor and holding his hand, making Pastor Galswells realize that the two must not have had a chance to say a proper goodbye to one another.
The Pastor didn't attempt to say any comforting words to William. It had never been particularly in his nature to, but that was mostly because he knew it wasn't his place to. While William may have been cordial with him for the moment, Pastor Galswells knew that didn't mean he forgave him for the way he had behaved toward the Van Dorts.
Once the sun had set and the last of the workers had left, William called for the Van Dorts carriage. The poor driver appeared exhausted, having spent the whole day driving Victoria and Julian for hours.
Once they had placed Victor into an inconspicuous transportation package, they hauled him into the back of the carriage. Pastor Galswells was surprised that the carriage driver never asked any questions or even spared them a glance, but maybe it came with the territory of working for the wealthy. Or maybe he was just too tired to care.
Traveling just out of town and out of sight, they had struggled immensely with dragging the body through the forest and over to the graveyard even with the help of a cart. The wheels didn't fare well in the moist dirt, but eventually they'd settled upon a spot that William was satisfied with. If one stood in just the right place, a tangled old oak tree could be seen creeping up in the background behind the freshly dug grave.
That had been the last time he had spoken to William. Once Victor had been buried, William had left without saying a word. The next day Pastor Galswells had returned to place a simple cross grave marker and had found flowers planted upon the grave. Their type and arrangement made it apparent that they had been picked by Mrs. Van Dort. William must have told her the truth about everything and brought her to visit.
As for the cover story, the town had been informed that Victor had wed his fiancee and moved away from town. For obvious reasons, it had been wise to avoid the fact that Victor had actually died. The town hadn't paid any attention towards the Van Dorts in recent days. The spectacle of drama surrounding the Everglots had been all anyone wanted to talk about. Victoria's family had sent out multiple search parties for her and the kitchen boy but had come up empty. From what he had heard, they frankly had no idea of her whereabouts.
A few days later, when he had visited Pastor Louis, who had remained on bed rest, he had told Pastor Galswells in private that he had received a letter from Miss Victoria. Her and Julian were well, keeping themselves in hiding. They had requested Pastor Louis' help in uniting them when the time was right.
When it came to why the Pastor himself continued to keep returning to the grave, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it helped him process everything that had happened over the last month. Maybe it was an underlying feeling of guilt for the way he had perceived and treated Victor and his dead lover. Whatever the reason, he found himself unable to move on from the event. The forest and the graveyard harbored an unwavering attraction for him.
He gave the newly painted cross one last look. Before turning to head back to his church, Pastor Galswells said a prayer for the boy. He hoped whatever the afterlife held for Victor Van Dort, that he was now finally at peace.