The Dawn of Darkness

Winnrey changed into her riding habit. It was myrtle green velvet with auburn leaf embroidery around edge, turned-back lapels of gold, and a skirt of auburn. The children were going out to exercise their horses. The note she had given Zeek lay on her bed. Someone had written a translation to the message. It now read; Kill King Richard and Queen Annabelle. After this, I will appoint you my official war wizard. Failure is not an option. It is punishable by death.

This meant her uncle was part of a plan to murder her parents. Winnrey called a meeting with her siblings. When they all assembled, she locked the door and windows and covered the vents.

“What is all of this secrecy for?” questioned Stephen.

“I have something important to tell you. It is a matter of life and death.”

“Okay, spit it out!” said Edward impatiently.

“Yesterday, when we brought up our uncle’s luggage, a note fell out of the suitcase I was carrying.”

“What did it say?!!” interrupted Nichole excitedly. “I mean, you should have put it back!”

“Someone ordered our uncle to kill Mom and Dad. A person wants to take over the Earth Realm! You don’t believe me, do you?” said Winnrey. The three siblings looked shocked at the timeliness of the news but looked at each other as if passing a message.

“We believe you,” they said calmly.

“What?!! You do?!!” asked Winnrey wildly, confused.

“You know our step-brother, Victor?” asked Nichole.

“Uh yeah...” said Winnrey thoroughly confused.

“He’s been trying to take over the realm with uncle many times,” stated Edward.

“AND he absolutely HATES mother,” finished Stephen.

“Okay, there is something else I have to tell you,” said Winnrey impatiently, “The prisoner, Zeek, and his pet, Ditto, are still here. They were the ones who found the box that Uncle George is looking for, but it exploded when they came near it. Some of the parts were embedded deeply in his skin. I think that since the box shards embedded into his skin it’s awakened the magic concealed in Zeek.” Silence.

“You like him, don’t you?” Edward taunted, breaking the silence. “I guess Mum’s gonna eat her words!”

“Nuh uh!” she denied.

“Winnrey likes an orphan, a stinking, dirty orphan!” sang Edward. Winnrey ran at him yelling.

“SHUT UP! EVERYONE!” yelled Nichole. Everyone stared at her in silence. Nichole never raised her voice like that.

“Okay,” said Stephen, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “We have to figure out a way to get rid of Uncle.”

“We could trap him with a spell.” suggested Edward. “I’ve been working on my magic.”

“I want to be the distraction!” said Winnrey excitedly.

“Come on! Mother and Father are going to wonder what we are doing in here. We should be exercising our horses right now.”

The wizard was getting desperate. He’ll get mad enough to kill them out in the open soon. I have to do something to stop him, Zeek thought. Finally, Winnrey relieved Zeek of his duty and told him the plan. He hung back in a corner to watch the action. Winnrey walked up to her uncle asked him if he could fit into her bag. Too proud and complacent to see the trick, he stupidly fell into her trap. Once he was small enough to fit, Winn sprung on him, stuffing him into the bag and pulling the drawstrings shut. Stephen distracted the royal couple by asking them the history of the palace and land. Winnrey tossed the sack into a jewelry box.

“Remember to say it in the Ancient Tongue.” Winnrey reminded.

“Obfirmo angustus,” Edward cast the spell with a terrible accent and a hilariously serious expression. The children held their breathe hoping the spell would work. A transparent green globe surrounded the box.

“How are we supposed to cover his disappearance?” asked Winnrey.

“I could forge his hand writing, so it looked like he left in a hurry,” suggested Nichole. They stared at her with their mouths open.

“Oh, come on! It’s not that hard to believe, is it?” she exclaimed exasperated. Nod. She sighed.

“Give me one of his letters that he’s written to you.”
Edward ran to get the letter and returned huffing and puffing, blowing his plump rosy cheeks. Taking a quick glance at the paper, she quickly wrote on another sheet of paper and signed.

“Wow, it does look like his hand writing!” said Edward disbelievingly.

“I’ll take this to our parents. You toss him and his stuff in the attic. No one goes up there anymore,” ordered Stephen.

There was a knock at the door. Everyone ran to their tasks, as their parents had a servant answer the door. Stephen placed the note on the table and hid behind the stairs. His siblings came running down to his hiding place to listen. Who could have been knocking at this time? Dinner was about to be served.

“Hello Father, Annabelle.” He said as he took off his helmet. The children groaned inwardly. It was Victor.

“Welcome, we’re just about to have the evening meal.” The King said grudgingly.

“Great! I haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Why don’t you stay and rest for a day or two,” offered Queen Annabelle, not having a reason to hold a grudge against him, “We have extra bedrooms.”

“Oh, no!” whispered the children. They knew what he wanted. At least two or three princes, kings, or just men of all sorts came for the same reason every year. At dinner, the children ate in a dark silence and asked to be excused early. As soon as they left, Victor told the royal couple his wish. It was the same one as last year. He had asked it the year before that and... You get the idea. Since Nichole or Stephen is heir to the throne, they were fraternal twins, he could not marry Nichole. Nichole did not appeal to him anyways.

“Father, I still would like to ask Winnrey’s hand in marriage.”

“Why do you ask us? She is old enough to make her own choice now,” said the Queen Annabelle.

“Propose to her and if she says no then that’s that. Don’t do anything rash. Her temper is the same as last year,” laughed King Richard. Last year Winnrey had pushed him out a window. Too bad he didn’t break anything.
Victor went upstairs to Winnrey’s room and knocked. Not knowing it was Victor, she opened the door. He kneeled before her, holding out a box with a beautifully crafted diamond ring. She laughed.

“What is so funny?” he asked.

“I’ll never marry you!” she said, “Not for all the riches in the world. You are the most horrible man I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll marry you somehow! It’s not like there’s someone else good enough!” he hissed.

“There will be someone for me!” she said defiantly. He stormed out the room spewing curse after curse.

“Wow, that guy is a lot meaner than I thought. And now you’ve made an enemy of him.” exclaimed Zeek as he materialized. Victor was still close enough to here the voice. It sounded like a boy’s voice, about fifteen years. Victor crept back to the door and put his ear against the wood.

“It’s not like he is Prince Charming!” she retorted.

“What are you going to do about him?” he asked.

“I don’t have a single idea, Zeek, not one.” She worried.

“You could run away like you always do or...” Zeek suggested.

“With you?” she asked surprised, interrupting Zeek mid-sentence.

Victor’s angry shout drowned out Zeek’s answer to her question. “Um... no I was just suggesting a way out.” Victor ran in and grabbed Zeek. Winnrey screamed. He dragged Zeek out into the hall and down the stairs to the feet of the King and Queen.

“What! That’s the prisoner that escaped,” exclaimed the king.

“He was trying to take her hostage,” lied Victor.

“MMMM!!!” Victor had covered the pale boy’s mouth so he could not protest. Zeek bit his hand and spit on Victor’s shoes.

“I did no such thing!” he said roughly.

“You have no say in this matter. We have the word of a royal gentleman. Peasants like you are hanged!” the Queen judged rashly. Winnrey ran down crying. She chased after the guards taking him away, beating her small fists at them, lovely hair flying like a flag.
They tied his hands to a horse and one of the guards rode him to the city prison. Zeek’s body dragged behind in the mud. The horse was galloping too fast for him to keep up. Once again, Zeek was in jail. This time, he wasn’t in trouble for stealing. The cell stank with the odor of rotting flesh. Mold and grime slimed the walls. Ditto slithered through the bars, huffing and puffing.

“What am I gonna do now? It seems I’m always gonna end up in jail now. I can’t escape my sentence forever.”

“You can if they think you’re dead,” said the albino crocodile mysteriously.

Two burly men carried a heavy wooden coffin between them through the rain and mud. The rain was lightening up.

“Why are we letting’ dirty crim’nals rot in our coffins? It’s a waste of good oak!”

“King’s orders. Besides, crim’nals are people too, I think. Wouldn’t you want a decent place for your dead body if you were a crim’nal?”

“Yeah, I guess.”