Down

He was alone.

Arthur stood from the cushioned area, knees shaking as his legs stretched. His throat was sore, having talked all night. Candles and lanterns were dying out through the hall. The moon bathed the room through the window, gracing only the silhouette of the pointed arches around the glass. The king strode the hall in a drunken haze, eyelids heavy and body sluggish, weighing down on itself with each step. Amid his intoxicated, near-delusional state, Arthur nearly lost his balance had it not been for scattered furniture and the castle walls to lean on.

"Scarlett…" he muttered, heavy eyes peeking towards the window. "Have I done what's right? Am I still the man you fell in love with? The man who could do no wrong?" His words were half-gargled as he spoke. "I hope you're smiling up there, just don't cry when you see the wedding…" Arthur nearly lost balance again, and without any clear knowledge of his surroundings was draped over another one of the hall's tables, drifting in and out of consciousness until finally, everything faded to black.

It was a stiff, cold, disturbing darkness overtaking his senses. He was aware of the shadows yet void of escape. Arthur's body templed from the cold, yet his mind still refused to unchain him from sleep. Everything seemed endless, lost, conflicting, or confining. He could see nothing yet still he felt the presence of nightmares, lurking in his subconscious, piercing him with stares through the shroud of black and then...moist. Peculiar wetness iced along his face, stinging him. Arthur's senses sparked and then ignited into a fierce blaze. The trap of his dreams sprung to life in a panic, cold hissing as it melted, sizzled, and spat across him. His head was ringing, voice screaming and shouting until finally, his reflexes took over, smacking the side of his head and clasping over his ear, finally wide awake, screaming.

Arthur fell to the floor, hitting his head against the cold stone in agonizing pain. As he opened his eyes he spied a figure retreating away, towards the light of the corridor at the hall's exit. "STOP!" he wailed. The king pulled himself to his feet, glancing at his hand for a moment stained dark vermillion as he began coughing sporadically. "STOP! SCOUNDREL! MONSTER!" Still, his head screaming, his ear blaze, and leaking blood as he cupped his hand over it. Each step made his body grow heavier until he could once again no longer stand, spitting and coughing as he collapsed. "D-DON'T LET HIM G-get away…" Arthur could feel himself growing weak, everything giving out on him. Breathing began short, rapid, worrisome. Every part of his body pulsed as if it might explode. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead and dripped down the side of his cheek.

"Snow...Ophelia...Huran…S-Scarlett..." he stopped moving as he realized what fate had decided for him. Yet still, Arthur refused to give in. "I'm sorry. Everyone… forgive me." His brain was processing too much at once, visions of what was to be celebrated without him, a happy future for the two children he'd left behind. Life's events played back, decades of laughs, debates, rage, and love being relived in seconds.

His first light

His first love

His first child

Rock and rubble - destruction he hailed as a celebration

Sands carried on the winds across a vast ocean of heat

His greatest loss

Another love, and another child...

Tears spilled as he clawed at the cold ground with what little strength he had left. "Snow…" he coughed, "...this is your home. Take care of it…"

When the rooster cawed the following morning, chaos reigned over Stone Roll.