Diaries of a Cursed Kingdom

Whispers In the Woods Extract from Vivika Widow’s ‘The Grip’

Diaries of a Cursed Kingdom

Dearest Brother,

Since boyhood I have enjoyed taking the horses and hounds into Mendelov woods. The bounty of animals to hunt there is wide and varied. It is a tradition passed to me by my father that the meat and fur we find there be shared amongst the people as much as possible. The nights can be long and cold so Navaria appreciates the warmth.

Today was different though. There were scarcely any animals to be found save one rabbit which the hounds slaughtered for their own supper. There was a fire in the distance. Some celebration of sorts seemed to be happening in the nearby village of Milliard. Singing and chanting filled the air. I had just about given up hope of ever finding a deer or elk. The noise had most likely scared them off. I was preparing to turn away when I stumbled across a clearance. My bow was prepared. My straining arms had all but fired a shot. I was startled. Before me was the most beautiful woman my eyes had ever beheld. She was seated upon a white horse. Her long black locks were so dark they almost shone blue in the fading light. Her skin was as white as the freshly fallen snow.

“Aren’t you frightened?” she asked me. Why, in all my heart and soul, would I be frightened by a ghostly mirage that was so fair? That was when she did the strangest thing. She threw to me a trinket, a macabre symbol. I held the skull of a cat in my hands. It will help aid success in your hunts,” she explained. Her voice trailed from her lips like fine silk threads.

Her name was Francesca of Vorelia. Vorelia is a village far from here and had never entered my travels. I would scour the known map to find her again. I know nothing of this woman and yet I know I will have none other as my queen. I can’t erase her presence from my mind, nor her voice from my ears. I can’t explain it. We have met only once and yet I will offer her everything I have.

King Roman Von Garr

My Dearest,

It has been done my darling. I have left it all behind. The last sight I had of my kin was of them burning, begging for the pain to be ended. Still pleading with me to stay with them. It was disgusting.

Oldonio still claimed be me to as his love until I removed his heart from his chest. The blood was still warm as I devoured it. Great was my fury that they tried to stop me and greater was my horror at what the love of Roman has made me see.

Contessa, the eternal child, was the last to speak. A curse she warned me of. That was laughable. Her power could never match mine for I was Queen of our people and only an immense power could hold them in check – a power only I amongst us held. She quipped about a plague that would follow me to Navaria and infect all those who crossed my path. My husband would be driven insane as images of my deeds flooded his fragile mind. Any children produced from the marriage would suffer from cradle until they begged for death. Contessa doesn’t frighten me. She is forever in the form of a child because of the power I possess over her.

Vorelia was reduced to ashes in my wake. The evil of its people banished. Annabella followed me. My first reaction was to kill her too. She stared at me with those pitiful grey eyes of hers. I’m not one to hold sympathy but she had been loyal to me my entire life. She is the one of my people who could rival me and yet she is too dim to realise.

It may have seemed strange to my new people if I arrived with nothing so I brought her with me, perhaps as a reminder of my former self. She was surprised by the changes in me. Her loyalty gave her cause to make changes of her own.

On our way to Navaria, I on horseback, she on foot beside me, we came across one of the strangest creatures known in my black circles. We were met by a Hangram. It was creeping to the water, gasping for whatever pity the world could spare it. They are fierce yet wretched creatures. It’s finger tips flame with the heat of redemption.

Annabelle and I knew the Hangram immediately but a ‘dweller’ may have been alarmed. Not many are seen by the dweller folk and fewer leave the unfortunate alive to tell the tale. It looked up at us from its contemplation over life and death. It approached. It recognised the blackness within me that had been calmed since meeting Roman but still burned in my chest. Of course the Hangram was drawn to the malevolence that Annabella still carried with her.

“You are evil, quite unlike any I have known and yet you have been allowed to roam this land unimpeded. Today is the day you answer for your crimes,” it said to us.

“I am sorry for all I have committed!” I said knowing the proper way to address a Hangram.

“I’m not,” Annabelle interjected.

The flames from the Hangram raged. It’s eyes began to glow. Annabella showed no fear. Truthfully she had little patience for such creatures and I merely wasn’t wishing for my path to be hindered.

“Francesca!” the Hangram raged. “There is a special place in Hell reserved for you.”

“If you are waiting on my repentance I will not give it to you,” I told it.

The Hangram closed in on us. “I don’t expect contrition from the likes of you.” it’s burned face contorted into an unsettling smile. “You will have to find comfort on a bed of blades if you do not appease your conscience.”

This particular Hangram was not to be fooled. It knew me, although in its form I couldn’t quite place the haggard frame. I had seen so many Hangram over the years. “Navaria will fair you well,” it said. “The King’s love will save you but only if you accept the punishment you deserve. Edn your life here and now, save the kingdom and the generations to follow. There is not a sin so great that a single act of selfless sacrifice can’t save you from,”

Before I could make my response Annabella had stepped forward. She threw dust at the Hangram’s feet. The Hangram emitted a high pitched, pained shriek. The form began change in a swirl of black and red energy. The colours cleared. The body of a little boy of nine years old lay where the Hangram had been. I remembered him. His name was Dale and he had come from the village of Caster, deep in Mendelov woods. My brother Julian loved to toy with Hangram. There were countless of them wandering the land because of him. The soul purpose of these creatures was to seek out sin and evil and vanquish it. The people Vorelia – my people – would absorb the energy left behind, strengthening our own macarbe magic. This was our way. When the Hangram had fulfilled its duty it would be disposed of. Formidable to the ‘dwellers’ but a mere pet – a blood hound in many ways – to us. To create a Hangram required the body of an innocent, someone who had led a pure life. This was often difficult to find in an adult so most of the time children served the purpose. Julian sought them out like an avid hunter. With his handsome face and bright, kindly eyes they flocked to him. Dale had been one such trusting soul.

Annabella removed a dagger from her boot. She meant to cut his throat while he lay asleep on the forest floor.

“No wait,” I stopped her. I had been thinking of what the Hangram had said. I left him. When he awoke from his slumber he would have enough provisions to keep him until he found a way back to his family. When I left Vorelia Julian had burned with all the others so Dale needn’t fear him any more.

So here I am in the arms of the King, in the beautiful land of Navaria. Contessa, her curse and all the others have been left behind. I will defy them, to be happy, to live.

Francesca