Bones of the Old World

"Can we talk?"

I shuddered as I felt the wind shift, as it always did when she appeared. No matter where, no matter when, if she chose to materialize so that I could see her, there was always a frigid wind that cut through to my bones.

I stopped in my tracks. It was twilight, and a few flickers of quickly dimming daylight remained, glowing like dying embers on the horizon. It was the solstice, and while many people would start merrymaking and celebrating the longest night of the year, I was bushwhacking along a forgotten game trail, the miniature ghost of a young woman hovering over my shoulder.

"Is this the right time for this?" I asked, pushing aside branches and stepping over a fallen log.

"I need to say I'm sorry," she said.

"We've gone over this. You've apologized so many times; I've lost count."

She floated directly in front of my face, forcing me to stop completely.

"If I hadn't cursed you, you'd be home right now, celebrating the solstice with your family."

"I have to press on," I said, ignoring the comment. "You told me yourself, this has to be done tonight. We've made arrangements for the Duke's cook to drug the mulled wine, and you said it was important that it had to be done on the solstice."

"I know," she nodded. "My connection to this world—to my remains—is the strongest on this night. But a few minutes here and now won't make a difference."

I thought about the small pouch of pulverized bone that I carried in a satchel around my neck. It was all that was left of her body. A quick image of the gruesome procedure to get her body to that state flashed in my mind.

"I'm not sure what else there is to say," I slowly continued forward, brushing past her small floating figure. "We are here now, and the only way for either of us to rest is for you to receive your vengeance. Besides, if I stop moving now, I'll never make it to the Duke's manor before freezing to death."

She floated to the front of my face again, however this time allowing me to keep moving through the bush by hovering backward as I continued along the game trail.

"Do not make jokes about freezing to death!" she warned. Her eyes flashed for a moment.

"You know I wouldn't make a joke about that," I snapped back.

I stopped. "I'm sorry; I know that's a sensitive subject... for the both of us."

**

The Young Duke was eager to prove himself a leader upon claiming his hereditary title following the death of his father. Even more so, he was eager to gain favor with the heads of the new religion, the followers of which had made certain arrangements to speed up his ascension to Dukedom.

To show his dedication to the new faith, the Duke first targeted the covens - those least prepared to fight back against the hammer of the new dogma falling on the land.

He took his men and swept through the land. His goal was to cleanse the land of "heresy" and make way for the monks of the new faith to move in.

She was a victim of one of the assaults. When the alarm was raised that the coven was under attack, she was instructed to gather the children and hide with them underneath a false floor that had been prepared for such an occasion. She had huddled with them, keeping them quiet as the horrific sound of slaughter and looting echoed through the air.

She stayed with them for hours, waiting for the sounds of the dying to fade. When she emerged from the hiding spot to see if it was safe, she found herself quickly surrounded by the Duke's men.