THE WRAITH QUEEN
Compendium 2020 – Story 11
By Andrew Hawnt
To
the eyes of the living, all was silent.
It
had always been thus. The mundane existence of the warm, breathing
masses was a quiet prison. It blinded them to so much that went on
around them, right under their runny noses. Their offices, their
coffee machines, their self-important hierarchy, all of them designed
over many centuries to maintain their ignorance.
The
city breathed and moved and argued and wept. At its edge sat the
silence of Grey Manor.
It
had continued to stand through the ages, through wars and fires and
plagues and all manner of horrors. Always there was a building on
that site. For years at a time, it would stand derelict and forgotten as if hidden by a heavy fog. It was as though the space it inhabited
was spared the rigours of the world.
Just
how Ember liked it.
The
heavy iron gates stood chained and awkwardly lopsided. Leaves piled
high against them, sending flurries into the air every time the wind
rose. The grounds were devoid of life.
And
yet, it was far from empty.
“Gathered,”
Ember cried from the upstairs balcony. “We will have order here.”
The
dense crowd of ghosts that filled the grounds writhed and melded in
waves of celestial grey. It slowed at the sound of the voice. A form
lifted from the masses, taking a more defined shape. That of Grenvile
Stein.
“Ember,”
his booming tones carried across the undulating sea of ghosts. “These
fine houses have crossed the world to join you here for this rite.
Are you prepared for the trials?”
Ember
rose up higher from the balcony, her luxurious gown ebbing away into
nothing at the edges. The darkness of the grand hall was visible
through her ethereal form. “High Archon Stein, I face these trials
with relish. Let them begin.”
Stein
turned to the crowds below him. He stretched out a hand and wisps of
his essence formed a sabre. “Brethren, Baroness Ember Grey of Grey
Manor wishes to assert her rule over us all, including me, your
faithful and fair Archon. What say you, spirits of the great houses?
What say you of this claim to power over us?”
Roars
of derision and violent intent erupted from the throng and countless
spirits leapt into the air, ghostly weapons taking shape in long-dead
hands. Archon Stein hurled himself at Ember, his sabre ready to
strike her undead form.
“Let
us show her that I am, and will always be your sovereign!”
Otherworldly
blades met as they converged on her. Battle raged as though they
faced an army, not a lone woman with one sword in her fist, yet as
each wave of ghosts came, she fought them back again and again.
They
had distracted her well. Archon Stein let his blade vanish into the
air as he closed in behind Ember. The assault focused her efforts in
front of her, and so the Baroness never saw the Archon peel back the
sleeve of his robe, revealing the glove and cursed vambrace that held
so much horror for the undead.
He
balled his fist and plunged it into Ember's core, her undead energies
suddenly corrupted by the Archon's foul magic. Her sword vanished and
she writhed against the grip he had on the ethereal heart, poisoning
her energies with the dark of an eternal sleep she had avoided for so
very long. Her scream was that of tortured banshees, and the Archon's
soldiers pulled back, surrounding their lord and his prey as the
ancient leader of the great ghost houses set about destroying the
pretender to his throne.
Stein
roared with victory as he felt Ember flickering into nothingness
against the onslaught of his cursed hand.
“Watch,
brethren! See another challenger fall! Soon every house will carry
the mark of Stein! Watch as she dies the second death!”
Archon
Stein's bellow became a scream. Ember hadn't vanished. She had forced
her energies into one spot – the wound her nemesis had caused,
sealing it, severing the cursed hand and sending the infernal
vambrace away in shards of ether. He spun away in the air, trailing
wisps of death from his ruined arm.
Ember
turned, to him, her sabre reigniting in her hand, and laughed. As she
did, the foul darkness of his corrupted extremity escaped her like
rancid smoke. She raised her blade, pointing it at him.
“You
come here expecting to put on a show for this pathetic flock? Ghosts
you have gathered from dark corners around the world? How does it
feel to be bested by such a slip of a girl, great Archon?”
“Destroy
her,” Stein screamed at his army. “Lay waste to this sorry house!
Possess the living and make them burn it! Erase it from existence!
She cannot stop us all alone!”
Stein's
forces converged on Ember again, but she just hung there in the air,
grinning.
“I
am not alone, ghosts of the great houses. I have never been alone at
Grey Manor. This space is the heart of this realm. This space is
alive with energies that echo all the way back to before time had a
name. There are many spirits here. A great many.”
Archon
Stein reared up in the air, his arm seeping darkness from its ragged
end. “Kill her, again and again, let her know the meaning of an
eternal death!”
His
words trailed away as Grey Manor itself groaned. Shuttered windows
heaved with force from within, eventually bursting from the enormous
pressure behind them. The manor vomited a thrashing wave of ghosts,
many of them not of human origin, their endless number rampaging
forth from the deepest chasms of the Earth in defence of their queen.
Their protector for so long. A storm of raging psychic energy
exploded forth, consuming Archon Stein and the forces he had amassed
in a cacophonous cleansing.
Amidst
it all, Ember laughed the cold laugh of the dead.
Cars
passed by. Pedestrians mumbled into their phones. Depressed office
workers went about their lives. A homeless man counted change.
Someone walked their lonely way home, worrying about the future.
Yet
behind the silence of Grey Manor, a new queen took her throne.
©
Andrew Hawnt 2020
About
Compendium 2020:
Compendium
2020 is a project from author Andrew Hawnt and consists of 52 weekly
stories encompassing science fiction, fantasy and horror. They are a
mix of short stories and flash fiction, 100% original and written
throughout 2020. Why is he doing this? To keep the words flowing. To
keep the ideas coming. To dance in worlds that are his and his alone.
To prove that he can.
About
Andrew Hawnt:
You
can find Andrew on Facebook at facebook.com/andrewhawntauthor and on
Twitter and Instagram as @andrewhawnt. Formerly a musician and DJ,
Andrew is known for his books, comic book writing, music journalism
and more, including fiction in Doctor Who Adventures, the Judge Dredd
Megazine and others. Look out for his film work soon.
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