An elderly Duchess once told Mikahl, that Willa the Witch had turned Duke Ramsis into a suckling pig, just for being rude. Mikahl didn’t believe much of what he heard, but Duke Ramsis sure did resemble an old hog the last time he had seen him back at Lakeside Castle.
If the Queen of Highwander really was an old witch, Mikahl thought that she sure lived well. Even surrounded by ruin, the palace was spectacular; far nicer than the thatched roof huts the witches in the stories preferred. Still, he was nervous. Lord Gregory had explained that Queen Willa wasn’t all that different from King Balton. It was only rumor, distance, fear, and a few embellishing generations of exaggeration that had turned her into something so exotic and sinister. But the Lion Lord had added that most fables, no matter how absurd, contained a bit of truth to them. Mikahl had no idea what or who to expect. He had been on the edge of death the last time he came into the palace. He only hoped that he would find Hyden Hawk and the Great Wolves amongst the living.
The congregation of worn, and weary, yet obviously noble born folk, were gathered at the castle’s entry steps. Talon soared by Mikahl, and made a proud, screeching caw. What was that? Mikahl squinted to make sure he was seeing correctly. A bearded dwarf with breasts? He wasn’t sure what the hairy thing beside her was. The only distinguishing feature, besides the hair and short stature he could discern, was a bulbous red hunk of flesh that might have been a nose poking through the tangle.
There was also a big man, who stood out, in his well worn red plated armor. Mikahl immediately recognized him as one of the Red Wolf King of Wildermont’s Elite Guard, but then true recognition struck him. It was King Jarrek himself.
Mikahl had stabled his horse once when he had come to Lakeside Castle for Prince Glendar’s Coming of Age gala. The lady soldier from the forest, where Grrr had sacrificed himself, was wearing a crown. Mikahl felt himself begin to tremble, and was glad he was sitting on a horse, for his legs would have surely betrayed his nervousness.
The General brought the procession to a halt before the gathering. A steward ran out, and took the reins of the horse the General had provided Mikahl. As much as he didn’t want to, he was going to have to dismount.
From somewhere behind the main group, a staff rang out on the stone, in a sharp triplet of resounding thumps. “Crack! Crack! Crack!” Then, an announcer stepped forward, and shouted out his introduction.
“I present Pavreal’s true heir, Mikahl Collum, the Slayer of Demons, and Dark Wizards, the Wielder of Errion Spightre, the Blessed High King, come to unite the realm again.”
The only thing more shocking to Mikahl than the sight of King Jarrek, and the crowned woman, whom he could only assume was Queen Willa the Witch, all bowing to him, was the appearance of the little fluttering blue pixie, who was hovering in midair, just over Queen Willa’s head.
His state of disbelief only intensified, when Talon shrieked fiercely, and swooped down out of the sky towards them. The little blue pixie panicked, and darted into the cleavage of Queen Willa’s gown. A moment later, Talon landed gracefully atop the Choska’s corpse, and a cheer erupted from all around them.
Mikahl smiled, and searched for Hyden Hawk, while brandishing Ironspike in the air for the people that were spilling forth from the castle. He wished that he could find some real joy in the moment. Perhaps if Vaegon, or Loudin, or Lord Gregory were here beside him, he might.
A thick tear welled up in his eye, and rolled down his cheek. He needed to find Hyden, if only to remind himself that everything he cared about, hadn’t been lost while defeating Pael’s evil. The fact that he still hadn’t seen his friend, caused the lump in his throat to swell to the size of a fist.
The memory of Vaegon’s torn body came to him, and threatened to overwhelm him. Luckily, the not so wicked Willa the Witch Queen saw the emotions playing out on his face. With Starkle the Pixie dangling by his wings from her hand, she hooked her arm into Mikahl’s, and led him into the castle, and away from the crowd.
Somewhere, out off of the Seaward coast, the insubstantial spirit of the wizard Pael, found its familiar, Inkling, still bound to Glendar’s submerged body. Starfish, crabs, and dozens of other mollusks, along with a few suckerfish, were cleaning the flesh from Glendar’s bones. Soon, only a skeleton would remain; a skeleton that was cursed to live on, hundreds of leagues down, at the bottom of the ocean.
The pecking order of the three entities, which inhabited Glendar’s skeletal host, was quickly established. Glendar, ever weak-willed, and foolish, was pushed to the side, while Pael and his familiar, wrestled for control of the skeleton’s motor functions. Ironically, Inkling won the battle, and once the sea floor scavengers were shaken off, he started off in the direction that he hoped was north.