Message

Experimenting for 'what if's for my next novel. Obviously it won't be as badly written as this, if it does happen.

A messenger arrived at the front steps of the palace. "I have a message," said the man, "for someone called Visere. I was told he could be found here." He held out a scroll.

The king looked at it suspiciously, but nodded. "Call Visere," he nodded to a servant. The servant turned tail and disappeared, to be followed a second later by a handsome man in his twenties, a politely curious smile on his face.

"There was a message for me, your highness?" said Visere. His voice was controlled, and pleasant. He caught sight of the messenger. "Is that him?"

"Yes."

The scroll was quickly passed over, and the messenger left. Visere, after a moment's hesitation, also turned around and went back the way he came, through marble corridors and up a staircase before reaching his own room. He locked the door then sat on the bed, carefully unfurling the letter.

To Visere, Sorcerer of  ____,

We are sorry to inform you of the deaths of your mother Acacia and your sister Myssie. They were found dead inside their home on the 20th of August. Please accept our sincerest apologies.

Yours,
[insertlongandfancynamehere]

Visere stared at the letter, stunned, after he had finished. He sat there, eyes staring, completely immobile. Then he read it again. And again. Then he stood up and, hands shaking, ripped the letter into tiny little pieces. He let them fall to the floor, and took several deep breaths, closed his eyes, and screamed. With a thud, his knees hit the floor. His head was tilted up towards the sky, his eyes were scrunched closed, and his scream echoed throughout the palace. It was one long sound: horrible, piteous, and filled with anguish.

His hands hit the floor too, and dry, wracked sobs shook through his body. He dugs his nails into his palm so hard that they began to draw blood.

The door of his room was suddenly thrown open, a girl standing there in the doorway. "Is everything alright? I heard a scream--"

"NO!" he roared, suddenly on his feet again. The girl was jerked back, hit the corridor wall, and crumpled. She didn't get up.

"No..." Visere whispered. "Nothing's alright. Nothing. NOTHING!"

He ran. Out of his room, out of the corridor, pushing past stunned people then into the sun, then he kept running, stumbling down the stairs into the courtyard. There was a horse - he swung into its saddle and began to ride. His hands were bleeding, and so was his lip, from the effort of keeping the tears from leaking out. They did so anyway as he rode towards the horizon, only gaining speed and never losing it.

He screamed again, then let go of the horse's reins and made a furious motion with his hands. Everything fifty feet from him rippled as if it had been struck by a wind, then collapsed into a junk heap.

By now, people have begun chasing after him. They began calling his name, straining their horses for extra speed. They yelled at him to come back, to tell them what was wrong.

Visere heard their voices and, amidst his tears, smiled mockingly. It was a painful and icy smile, and only flickered for a moment before a spasm of pain crossed his face. "Come back?" he breathed. "Come back? I'm not going back, you pathetic ragdolls. You're never going to see me ever again."