Song of the Piper

::26:: Of What Once Was (Part 2)

Music is Soul Battles by Ryan Taubert. Play it!

Image is Erstürnach.

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The Fountain again. However, I immediately knew that something was wrong in the atmosphere, even as the colours hadn't fully form yet.

Tension—it was brewing in the air. Powerful, contained, ready to snap at any moment.

Then my vision cleared. An angry wind swirled around me, whipping my skirts about and threatening to topple me over. Dry leaves and broken twigs and other debris were caught up in a storm, and I threw my arms over my eyes to shield them. I dared to peek upwards: there was a deep, dark hole directly above the Fountain. Clouds were gathered around it, transforming the entire sky into a churning pit with the hole as its centre. The storm had no rain, and its territory ended where the Fountain's borders lay.

I returned my attention to the ground. Hans stood beside me. There was no trace of the innocent I'd seen before in his expression: it was raw, angry, primeval. stood like he was the conjurer of the storm, and his pupils were two black pools of hatred.

He looked terrifying.

I shrank back instinctively. His attention seemed to be focused upon a crowd on the opposite side. I squinted into the distance, making out two figures who stood at the forefront of the people. They were clothed in rich garments, and even as the storm raged around them, they stood tall, steadfast. With a start, I recognised one of the figures as Hans' mother.

"Hans, please! Stop this madness!" his mother screamed, her words almost drowning in the howling wind.

Hans, in response, raised something in his hand: a pipe. The same instrument that was rumoured to be the Pied Piper's weapon of choice when he swept by provinces and cast his spells.

Then there was his whole countenance: the self-absorbed way
Hans carried himself. Still traceable even though this event had taken place centuries before.

Hans was Lord Himmel.

I didn't have time to fully absorb the full implication of the sight as Hans screamed back: "You all betrayed me! You took her away! Murderous bastards, all of you!"

"Hans, you know I would never lay a finger upon Freya," yelled the figure beside Hans' mother. His voice was deep and commanding; the voice that one must always listen to. But something had snapped in Hans, and it was clear the crazed look in his eyes stemmed from grief.

"Lies! You thought you could hush the matter up, didn't you? Unfortunately, as it is, the evidence is not in your favour!" Hans' fury couldn't disguise the tears in his voice, and I suddenly felt nothing but pity for him.

"I may not agree with your choice of a wife, but I would never dare to resort to murder."

"Your magic was found on her body. Who else could it be?"

"I don't know, my son. Just listen to me: don't put Erstürnach at risk simply because of one person. If you want revenge, then I'm right here, and so be it." Hans' father sounded surprisingly cool.

Hans merely reared his head back and laughed and laughed and laughed, seeming more beast than human. "You had this coming, dear father. So you willingly admit that you killed Freya?"

There was a brief pause. Only now did I notice that standing behind Hans' parents were sorcerers. And not just regular sorcerers: their faces were fierce and unyielding, and they all were assuming intimidating stances, ready to spring into action at a word.