Part V, Chapter 12: Of Silent Disbelief

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Marco woke up next to his avian wife, and yawned, twitching his ear. It was still hard to adjust back after Ophelia's departure, but things were getting to this new kind of normal. He was thus all prepared to have the usual breakfast, but he realized he slept in a bit. Strange, since there were usually people up and around by now to wake him!

He stirred, leaving Lætitia to rest a little longer, and, after getting dressed, decided to investigate. He looked around, and blinked a bit. Cameron's room was empty, as expected at this time. He didn't hear him around, however, and he wasn't awakened by the dog earlier, like he typically was.

The wolf went into the halls, and wandered around for a while. No sign of the collie, no sign of the King. Were they out somewhere again? He asked a guard this question, but the guard had no answer, remaining silent, with a grim expression, as if he were keeping some sort of awful secret.

Now concerned, he went outside, and walked around the castle, before noticing something unusual at the wide square of presentation. On the risen stage was a black heap, what looked like burnt-up wood and ashes. There must have been some bonfire, he so assumed, as he walked up to it. Someone was nearby, looking at the pile.

"Sir, what are you doing?" Marco asked, walking closer.

"Paying my respects," the fairly plump mouse said, "to one of the finest of the kingdom. One of your trade, it seems," the mouse then said, recognizing the kingdom's royal ensemble-leader.

"Aa musician, how tragic," Marco then asked. "This must have been an execution by fire. I was unaware. Was it last night?"

"Yes," the rodent nodded, his bare tail hung low. "My brother saw it. It was sad. His deeds as well as his work are so treasured here. How we will never know what more he could sing, and what deed he could do! For he was a knight, as well, you know!"

Marco felt like he had gotten punched in the gut with the realization brought upon him by those last few words. It simply could not have been the case, though. It would have been too mortifying to be true. "A knight, as well?" he repeated in such disbelief.

"So he was," the rodent nodded. "You didn't hear? You must have known him! Felix himself lit the flame!"

"That CAN'T be true!" the wolf grasped his head. Compelled to, he suddenly dug his hands, and his arms, into the pile. "No. No, no. Please, God, no—"

The passerby looked confusedly on, but recognizing that this must have been a close friend, did not interfere with this discovery, the likes of which they all already knew of, all too well.

Marco suddenly gasped, and, in his lifted paws, brushed off and beheld what he most feared, feeling his own heart drop into his chest. He found the ring. Ophelia's ring. Cameron's ring. It was most certainly his. He took it, then held and hid his face with his dirty hands, choking on his own throat.

The mouse, realizing the situation, quickly left. Marco mourned a while, lost in confusion as to how this could have happened, and in horror at the fact that this wasn't his worst nightmare.

Kneeling now in ash and soot, Marco again yelped... as he dug out a skull, precisely the size of a collie's.

"NO...!" he finally heaved, the tears emerging from his eyes and down his cheeks, as soon and hurried as a river bursting out from a demolished dam. "NO! DAMN IT ALL! DAMN YOU, DAMN THE LOT OF YOU!" he suddenly turned to the crowd, unable to divert his anger anywhere else.

He cursed and shouted in anguish, as onlookers knowingly and confusedly let him. This wasn't for long, as the wolf, in the middle of the square, fainted, overcome with this anguish.

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