Death Is Equal To All

Epilogue

England, 1350

Epilogue

A man sits in a plain-looking living space, staring at a glass of some-sort of alcohol substance. The room is simply furnished with a wooden table, two chairs, and a cabinet anchored to a nearby wooden wall. The walls are closed rather tightly around the man so, if he pleased, he could stretch out one of his arms and open one of the cabinet's drawers.

He grasps the glass' handle, and chugs down the remaining substance. He reaches over to the cabinet beside him, pulls a jar labeled 'beer' out, and pours some of the liquid into his glass. The man sighs. The door to the house then opens right as he does so.

"Father" The young boy who had opened the door questions. The boy has black, short, messy hair and is wearing a simple attire that most boys wear at his age. He is ten. He walks over to his father's slumped figured and asks the question again.

"Leave me alone, brat!" He yells and slaps the child. "Go make yourself useful and get us some money." He waves his hand dismissively and drunkly falls his face back onto the table.

If I were king, my father wouldn't have to drink his sorrows away.

————two years later————

"Hey son, another round over here!" A man hiccups and swings his glass of beer around. A boy rushes over to the table with a tray of beers in both hands, and carefully sets it down on the table. In a matter of seconds after the tray is set on the table, the glasses are grabbed. One man had grabbed two, with causes a argument to transpire between the two men. Beer is sloshed onto the floor and before they know it, one of the two men throws his fist into the other one's jaw. The boy grabs the tray, and walks back behind the bar to refill their empty glasses.

"Now, now, sirs. There's no need to fight over this." A female waitress says and attempts to stop the two brutes. However, this comes to no avail and one of them punches her in the face.

"Get outta here lady! This is between two men!" One shouts at her while continuing to fight the man in front of him. She whimpers and falls to the floor.

The boy walks over and hands the woman a washcloth and mutters to press it to her face. He sets the tray of freshly refilled beers onto the table. "It's on the house." He says to the two men. They pause for a moment, before grabbing one each, and sitting back down. Everything returns to normal.

"Thank you." She says and the boy offers a hand to help her back up, at which she complies to.

He walks back behind the bar and scourges his pockets to pull out a couple of coins. He hands it to the manager. "For the beers." The manager mutters under his breath and grabs the money.

If I were king, no one would get injured.

—————————————

Another shaky breath escapes the woman's lips as she struggles to keep her eyes open. "Hang in there, dear, please." A man beside her pleads. She looks over at her husband fondly and smiles.

"Where's my son?" She asks in a raspy voice. The man signals to a woman in the room to get him. The woman opens a flap to the tent and signals for someone to bring him in. Another woman holding a child who is barely two months old, rushes over to the dying woman, and sits next to her. The mother stretches her arm out and gingerly strokes the child's cheek.

"It's sad to think that he won't remember me." She says and forms a sad smile on her lips.

A few tears escape her husband's eyes and he says, "Don't say that. You will live through this!"