The Dragon looked around. He was standing in a vast plain, which seemed to stretch out infinitely in all directions. Turning his gaze upwards, the Dragon saw that the sky above was the darkest black he had ever seen, with no moon or stars and yet, somehow, his surroundings were perfectly visible as though it was the middle of the day.
What was this place? The Dragon wondered and how had he come to be here? The Last thing he remembered he was at a feast, and then...
"Thekros."
Upon hearing his name, the dragon turned around. Standing In front of him was a figure wearing a white cloak and a hood which obscured its features. The Figure's sudden appearance had startled the dragon, at first, but it only took a moment for his surprise to turn into anger: How dare this individual sneak up on him like that? Not to mention using his name without any honorifics? The Dragon gave the figure a look, the kind that made his servants back home cover in fear.
"I am Prince Thekros" he said, in a voice that could give a penguin frostbite. "Soon to be King, Thekros. Fail to address me properly and you'll regret it and remove that hood. How dare you cover your head when addressing one of your betters?"
Angrily, Thekros reached out to pull the hood down, only for his arm to pass through the figure, as if it wasn't even there.
"G-Ghost!" The Second Prince of Vinoli exclaimed,staggering backwards, his eyes wide with fright.
"No, Prince Thekros" said the figure and for a moment, Thekros thought he could detect a hint of amusement in its voice. "I am no restless spirit and neither are you for that matter. Although, your guess is not completely off the mark."
Thekros stared at the figure, then he looked down at his hands. He could see right through them.
"I..I'm dead" he said and his voice, as he made this observation, was small.
"How did I die?" He asked, raising his head and looking at the figure. As soon as he had asked this question, memories of his death came rushing back. He remembered the quick and painful way in which his life had ended and he knew at once who had orchestrated his demise:
"You bitch!" He screamed, falling to his knees and smashing the ground with transparent fists, as tears of self-pity streamed down his face, as he cursed his killer in every foul word he could remember, which was quite a lot.
Then, all of a sudden an idea came into his brain. No, she had not won yet! There had to be a way out of this and if it meant he had to debase himself in order to find it, so be it. Still on his knees, he crawled over to the figure, took hold off its robe and kissed it.
"Please" he begged. "Let me return to the land of the living! I'll do everything you want!"
The Figure remained silent, showing no indication that it had heard the Prince's words. Then, it spoke.
"Rise," it said. "It is time for us to go."
Realizing that pleading had no effect and threatening probably wouldn't either, Thekros rose, dried his tears and began to, reluctantly, follow the mysterious being. Soon they came to beach, where hundreds of other souls were waiting, each accompanied by a hooded guide of their own.
Thekros gazed out over the dark waters. He could see land, shrouded in mist, in the far distance. Was that where he was going? But how? There was no ship in sight. Was he and the others perhaps supposed swim across?
"It is here" his guide observed. Thekros looked up and saw that a huge ship had somehow appeared close to the beach. No crew could be seen, but a gangplank was lowered down and the dead began to climb aboard.
"Go ahead" the figure said. "Climb aboard."
Thekros was about to set foot on the gangplank, when he hesitated. He thought about all the people he had sent this way in the past, whether indirectly or by his own hand. People like his half-brother, Argeron. Would they be waiting for him on the other side? It was not a pleasant thought to consider.
Then, there was the matter of eternal punishment, which seemed to be a part of almost every religion. When he was alive, Thekros had been openly dismissive of such talk. Of course, it had been easy to scoff when you were alive and well; sitting at a brothel with a girl on one arm and a boy on the other and a newly opened bottle in front of you, certain that you'd still live for many centuries yet to come.
Thekros turned around and looked at the figure.
"Could I not stay here?" He asked. "Or go back to the plain?"
The Figure did not reply, but merely shook its head.
Thekros was about to ask why, but then the souls behind him, who had grown anxious to get aboard, pushed him onto the crowded deck of the ship. The Gangplank was hauled in, a wind filled the sails and the seemingly crew-less vessel began its voyage into eternity.
Standing by the rail, Thekros saw that the shore was still close enough for a good swimmer to swim back there. He had almost made up his mind to risk it, when a voice cried out:
"I can't take this! I can't face what may wait for me over there! I'm going back!"
The Voice belonged to a toad, whom Thekros recognized as a fellow countryman. In life, he had been involved in various highly profitable, but less than ethical moneymaking schemes. He had met his fate at the end of a dagger, wielded by one of the people he had ruined.
Another soul, that of a dog, tried to reason with the toad, telling him not to be a fool. He,however, would would have none of it and pushed the canine aside. The Toad then climbed up on the railing and flung himself into the air.
If those aboard had still been alive, they would have held their breaths. Instead, they simply watched in amazement, as the toad's soul, rather than landing in the water, remained in the air. At first, the toad was as surprised as everybody else. Then, he began to swim through the air, making his way back towards the beach, laughing triumphantly.
Emboldened by this, others, whose conscience weighed heavily on their minds and who had not had time nor cared to repent their wrongdoings in life, soon joined him. Thekros considered doing the same, but something made him hesitate. Though he could not say why, something told him that it was best to remain on the ship. He soon realized how right he had been, as the toad and his followers, soon began to drop out of the sky, down towards the waters below.
The Moment one of them came into contact with the sea, they sank like a rock. Everyone waited to see if any of them would resurface, but no such thing happened. With a shudder, Thekros moved as far away from the railing as he could. Whatever awaited him at the end of this journey, he doubted that it could be worse than being forever trapped in that ink-black darkness on whose surface they were currently sailing.
Turning around, Thekros decided to take a closer look at his fellow passengers. Perhaps there was someone among them he knew? An old acquaintance or supporter, maybe? That's when the Prince noticed him. Of course, he would be here. He had eaten of the same poisoned cake, after all.
What is going through your head at the moment, Father? Thekros asked himself, as he looked at King Sharan. Have you realized who killed you? That must have been quite a shock. I bet you thought if one of your children would be the cause of your death, it would be me, am I right? You were wrong, there were others whose undoing I coveted but never yours. Sure, I wanted your throne, the throne that was rightfully mine, but I was perfectly willing to wait until after you were entombed, before I took it. Apparently, your perfect daughter did not feel the same way.
While thinking these thoughts, a cruel smirk began to distort Thekros' features. Then, King Sharan raised his head and looked right at him and the look on his father's face was so full of sadness that for a brief moment, an emotion Thekros had not felt in centuries stirred inside him. Troubled by this, the dragon quickly turned his head away and closed his eyes.
Soon afterwards, the ship arrived at its destination and all the souls began to disembark into the fog.
