makesthings: (mirror)
When your family walks in Death, talking to the Dead becomes more fraught. Sameth hasn't forgotten what happened last time around this time of year, but he's tired. The costume pinches and he ends up falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

This time, there's no friendly field or cricket uniforms. There is just a hooded figure saying, "I might have got the wrong one, but I'll find you, Prince Sameth."

He turns to face the necromancer, who's name he doesn't know, that he just knows as the Enemy and tries to will himself to talk as his hands tremble.

Instead the necromancer turns and disappears.

And he's left all alone and scared.

This is what he's meant to do and he can't.
makesthings: (swift river of Death)
He was walking on the hill at Bain again though he didn't feel as cold,

"Hello, Sam."

When he turned there was Harry but whole yet he felt dead, "What are you doing here?"

"Been a while since you batted any wickets."

Harry smiled though it didn't quite reach his eyes, "We kept fighting."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but how are you here? Did he get to you?"

"No, guess we should have believed you more when you answered our questions."

"You didn't need to know before. I never thought things would happen like that."

"You fought him, chose the path that honor takes."

"I lost and you died."

"Went down swinging."

There's a shift in the air, colder and from the North and they both look towards where the Wall would be,

"Time for me to go. Remember take the path that honor takes."

"Harry?"

He wakes up with his burns hurting again and stares at the fire for a while before he can fall back to sleep. Its hard to imagine Harry or any of the boys from Somersby wanting anything to do with him, now Harry won't be able to keep playing cricket or leaping over things. Nightmares are easier than this guilt which he earned by failing so horribly.

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Sameth, Wallmaker and Prince of the Old Kingdom

July 2015

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