Forly tilts his head to the side and jolts, at the same time the knife at the king's neck scrapes, releasing a thin layer of blood, almost imperceptible in appearance but agonizing in pain for Deormmund.
And in that same instant, Forly froze. She approached with slow, delicate steps, like someone who knows exactly what needs to be done.
She stopped, exhaled, and ordered the soldiers at the ends of the balcony to calm down. She gracefully walked to Forly's ear and breathed her words.
A sweet, melancholic voice, with sugary notes of feminine lightness. A woman. A queen. A love...
"Eleanor Shellstrop... a good name, don't you think? Forlose?"
Forly's heart inadvertently sped up, and his head felt as if it were being hammered near the nape of his neck. How did she know his name is Forlose?
And she continued, speaking in a cold manner that sent shivers down Forly's spine.
"Forgive me about Cook..."
"What?" Forly's voice was so sluggish, slow, and inoperative, as if it came without any will; merely on a whim of despair.
She smiled. "Wait! Oh my God, you didn't know... how can you be so si-l-ly? Then I imagine you don't know about Alfred either? I'll tell you everything, don't worry!"
A tear ran down Forly's right eye. His mind was empty from so much information. It all made sense now.
"But don't feel special, Forlose. I had to find a way to have my father killed... you weren't the only one who lost. Oh yes! The letter was my work too... the sponsorship was meant for me. But I changed your destiny because I studied that a sponsorship sent to the wrong person could... let's say it would inhibit the common system that everyone receives, and thus, abstract the primary objective. So, I spread it through old-fashioned word-of-mouth until the king was... well. Deceived? Perhaps that's a euphemism, I admit."
She paused and let out a small giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. The king had passed out from blood loss, and Forly's hands were covered in the red liquid from the king's neck.
"Wait a moment."
And she turned to the crowd with her arms outstretched. The people fell silent for an instant.
"My people! As queen... yes! As queen, and I have witnesses who can prove I have become one and could take the throne today. These two men you see here, in battle, are born enemies, and a danger to the kingdom we live in. Your king ruled through lies, and the young man who tried to kill him was so tormented that he nested in madness; although, none of his acts are justifiable, when he killed my father! It's true! HE KILLED A SHELLSTROP! And your king! This man promised me a part in the reign in exchange for doing wicked things for him! He deceived a young woman, so innocent of his intentions! HE! HE took advantage of me being a woman of the people!"
"LET US JUDGE AS WE CAN, AND IF DEATH SERVES WELL, GOOD PEOPLE, LET IT COME! LET THE PEOPLE DECIDE! SHALL I BE YOUR QUEEN? SHALL THE WICKED BE PUT AGAINST THE WALL OF JUSTICE?"
And she turned her back.
Three people had spoken that day. And unlike what many people think, it did not confuse them; in fact, as Eleanor had well planned, it would be an addition, further increasing the public's distrust. And she would be just the poor victim with clean, washed hands, because everyone did something, although in fact, she had barely touched anyone.
Manipulation is deadly, coming from fiery tongues, from perverse minds that desire power at any cost.
The crowd stirred again, and was even more divided; and Eleanor would take advantage of this to utter her last words—speaking softly and aside to Forlose.
But first, she raised her hand low so the command would go unnoticed, and an arrow struck Forly's shoulder from the left side; from the right side, came one that struck his chest.
He finished stabbing the king, and Deormmund plummeted below, further increasing the screaming and chaos down below.
Forly fell to the ground; and the queen crouched.
"Listen, it was nothing personal, dear. I just want to get rid of Earth, and my manipulative family. You will have peace in death."
"There will be no death, you bitch!" blood ran from his mouth as he spat. "The Phantom Valley."
"You won't survive there. Now die quickly, so that I can fulfill the objective I was given once and for all."
Forly tried to pronounce words, but only spat more blood. A fog covered his mind, and his vision blurred with each passing second.
The queen gave him a kiss on the cheek and went inside as some people threw food up there, fighting amongst themselves.
Forly saw the sky darken, his body weaken, his vision fade to black, and his breath leave his lungs without returning.
Ice seemed to run down his throat, and tears streamed down his temples. Death was knocking at the door...
And finally, it took him.
***
Everything went dark. The world vanished. The voices fell silent. Nothing else was left; nothing tormented him. It was him, and the darkness.
He could not cry, could not move, only be the natural spectator of the unfolding cataclysmic events before him; because the black had gained color, the body could now be seen, Forlose was real, alive.
Colors bloomed around him like watercolor paints being mixed. The black turned into a multitude of dazzling hues. The nothingness became the universe and filled his vision with red, pink, and blue nebulas, and so many colors that Forly had never even seen on that dying Earth.
He flowed through eons of time, and as if time itself were running alongside him, everything accelerated. He traveled through what seemed to be the cosmos, where with each second, everything blurred more and more; and faster, faster!
A fog enveloped him, growing from the sides.
It grew, even as he seemed to travel even faster. His vision became obsolete, and all he could see was a pure white fog, gurgling violently like a tornado in every direction he looked. His eyes burned intensely, and he could feel as if he would lose the skin from his body at such speed.
Slowly, it seemed a black ground was forming at his feet.
The wind subsided.
He gently felt himself landing on the ground.
The fog dissipated.
And finally, a few seconds later, like a whisper, he landed gracefully on the ground; the fog was gone, revealing a frozen world, permeated by snow in every corner, where it seemed to snow without end.