A Knight's Passing

Beyond the glass of the gothic window, the sky was gray. Drops of rain clutched like fingers to its surface, remnants of the storm that had shaken the castle only hours ago. The cold still remained, chilling even the woman in the chair who sat clutching an infant to her breast. 

She whispered to him, running her hands across his head and rocking him back and forth in her arms. He looked just like his father. The proud cheekbones would one day stand out as he smiled wide, and the eyes would one day shine with love for a maiden-just as those of Matthias had once enchanted her.  

She shivered in her chair, gazing once again out of her tower window. She sighed. She remembered sitting here at this very window, his handkerchief clutched tight, as she waited for her husband to come home. The east road had been empty that day.  

The weather had been just like this, too; the horses had brayed in the stables and the squires fencing in the yard below had dropped their swords and bolted for the safety of their quarters, as if all were fleeing some great beast. She remembered its roar, and the rain drumming out its dirges as she cried. 

She remembered the consoling words of her maids, the hugs and hands taking hers. Hollow inside, she had only felt them like a passing glance, like faces in a fog. 

Out of habit, Alice moved to the window to look out over the hills of the countryside. She looked first to the north, beyond the mighty gates of her castle. Then she looked to the east, where the mighty waves rolled and broke against the rocks of The Ancient's Pass. She looked to the west, over the endless hills. Her heart cried out for what her mind knew would never come. 

Her baby began to cry, and she held him tightly, desperately to her body. She stroked his raven black hair once more and kissed his brow, all with such love and tenderness that even the darkest of hearts could be moved. His cries faltered eventually, and his eyes closed. Pure, innocent sleep overtook him, and she sighed again.  

"Oh, my dear son...how strong you will become...where will that strength take you, I wonder?" As if in answer, the church bells tolled from far below, and she heard the soft whisper of the evening prayers. She breathed in their peace. Her faith was strong, and she must move on. 

How strong had it been the day Matthias had been taken by the Knights of Chaos? Strong enough to prevent her from taking her life, strong enough to remind her of her duty, certainly, but not strong enough to keep her from damning every foul soul that had taken him from her. 

She got up and walked to the far side of her chamber, to her mirror. Peering in, Alice remarked to herself how pale she had become, sitting up here day after day. Before all of what had happened had changed her, she'd been as dark skinned and healthy as any young girl should've been. 

She then looked to the painting on the wall, which held an image of the two that were once three. Gazing up at her husband's proud form, she sadly wondered what was left of it these days. 

Nightmares plagued her every night about it, his leering skull peering into the darkness of her mind. My love, you let me die... it always seemed to say. Alice also dreamed every night of the day she would send an army to crush the Citadel and send all inside to hell, resplendent in an armor of victory and vengeance. 

Dillon would be her right arm, she knew, strong and valiant in spirit, as strong as his father. She looked down at him adoringly. Though he was sleeping, she took him in her hands and kissed his brow, joy radiating from her. His eyes blinked open in confusion, and she laughed lovingly, a soft smile upon her lips. 

At her happy face, he tugged on the sleeve of her black dress insistently, which matched her hair as well as his. He seemed to be asking what was so funny. His dark violet eyes stared into hers and she knew, above all else, one thing. 

Dillon would be her salvation.