A Cold Cowardly Death for Alfred Penult

A Short Story by Antepen

Alfred Penult looked at the old book in his hand, his palms wrinkled by the hands of time.

He walked over to the window and saw from the distance a glistening golden light against the
grey backdrop of the storm. He had always hated the Palace of Whisperers with its towers of
hubris mocking and reminding him. It was a sight that always brought despair and bitterness.

Lightning flashed through the sky, a branch of white ripping through the layers of grey. Then a
few hills over, he saw a silhouette. A few more flashes revealed the details of this trespasser; a
green cloak, aurous hair, a silvery arm that glowed with every flash. His mind screams one
name, Sophia Altair.

Alfred gulped. Another bolt of lightning and he saw his face, utter terror. Memories of the war,
the trials, and the executions ran through his mind. He was promised peace after the trial, that
he won’t be harmed and hunted down by them, that he’ll live a life of solitude. A single question
broke through the sea of others, “Why her?”

Not even Toria’s legendary heroes can match the power of the Illum, through their veins the
blood of the Elva’ti flows. What would an old rifleman like him do when facing one of Toria’s elite
thaumaturgists. Bullets can never pierce the skin of those who could lift entire mountains and
launch towers of water as if it was a mere spear.

The wind howled louder as if the air herself was celebrating her arrival. Altair’s cloak danced
through the wind like the banners of her ancestors, proud and fluttering. Her slow march brings
more fear and with it a new round of questions. “Why is she taking her time?” “Is she mocking
me?” “Do those ears delight in hearing my heart pound?”

Understanding the inevitability of it all, Alfred steps outside and when Sophia saw this, levitated
and flew in closer. In a few seconds she was a few steps in front of him. Her blue eyes glared with
the playfulness of a cat playing with its prey. He said, in a hushed shaking voice, "Do it quick
magic user!" Sophia through gritted teeth replies “Very well traitor.”

Alfred turned and looked back at his cottage, not willing to see what spell she’s creating . The
cerulean glow behind him tells him that she’s using ice magic.The cottage from its ashy facade
reflected the blue of a clear sky. He thinks to himself, “At least she’ll kill me quick.” Seconds
passed each one an eternity then Altair screamed “Face me coward! Will you die just like how
you lived!” Alfred answered “Why should I? Just do it!. End it, end the coward in front of you.”
Alfred suddenly felt his feet lift off the ground, he turned and saw the face of Sophia, her face wet
not by the rain but by tears. Her milk white cheeks turning into a rosey blush, her ears pointing
the edges of the horizon redden, and her blue eyes slowly turning into a purple shade. “Why did
you do it?” “Why did you betray them?” “Why did you kill him?” Her questions sharper than the
frost spike floating above her head.

Alfred studied Sophia's eyes and her metallic finger pointed at him. Eventually, he took a deep
breath. "He had promised me to bring her back. Clovis promised me that the necromancers can
bring Yulia back.” Sophia screamed “Clovis is a liar! How could you believe that vile that comes
from his mouth? Look where that brought you, a traitor to all of the royal guard and a murderer”

“I was desperate, I only joined the guard to find a way to bring her back. I lost her, the only
family I had left!” Alfred shouted back.

“Was my father not family? Was Aquild not family? Was Fenrae not family? Was Elra not
family?” Sophia replied, her eyes fully purple by now.

“Th-they a-all w-were b-b-but…” Alfred stammered as his tears started flowing like falls.

“But what? That they weren’t from the same kingdom as you? That their home is Av’leko? That
they wedded Elva’ti? That their children are halflings?”

Alfred whispered in quiet rage “That their kids were going to burn this continent down.”

And with that Sophia's hand formed a fist and the spike flew straight through Alfred’s chest. The
sheer force threw him a few meters back. Blood mixes with the rain flowing into the soil. In
heavy painful breath Alfred’s dying words were “Elra, Fenrae, Aquild, and Wevin would thank
me for what I had done in the afterlife. Clovis was right about you Illum.”

“Go to hell traitor!” with this Sophia summons a smaller spike the size of a nail and launches it
at his good eye. It pierced through his skull and finally extinguished the spark of life within him.

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