Old War Dog

So, this was death.

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Ricard could honestly say he was rather underwhelmed. Maybe it had been too much to expect great golden gates or fiery brimstone but was it too much to ask that he at least be somewhere that wasn't exactly like the world he had just departed.

Well, not exactly like his world. While the grand villa in front of him and the fortified town around it was certainly his home, there was not a single soul in sight. There were no people, no birds, no horses. The normal sounds of a roaring river that flowed under the town from the three wells were gone. The sky was a blank grey with no clouds and no sun or moon. Everything besides the buildings was just... gone.

Ricard scowled. This was his eternal punishment? He shook his head. No, he had lived his life in such a contradictory fashion he had most likely not been judged by god yet. So this was purgatory then, the place where it would be decided whether he would be able to pass on to heaven or be sent to hell.

Still, it was not what he had expected.

He journeyed through the streets of the town lazily, not exactly sure what he was meant to do to prove his worth to god. Nothing in particular seemed to stick out from the still environment. For what felt like ages he walked and found nothing. Eventually he began moving for the Villa itself in case the answers he sought were there.

It was a grand building, one that would make most lords green with envy. Finely carved stone bricks and masterful woodwork made the large building comparable to even a palace. Red and black banners with the symbol of a silver moon and black paw print were billowing in a nonexistent wind above the Villa's red tiled roof. A well maintained garden surrounded the villa with many exotic flowers and trees with a single large willow dominating the back courtyard.

For a moment Ricard paused as he ascended the final set of stairs that raised the villa from the rest of the town. It almost seemed like the Villa was more magnificent than he remembered, even though had always been exceptionally proud of the beauty he had commissioned with the earnings of decades of warfare. Perhaps the Villa itself was his test.

He shook his head. It was probably just his mind playing tricks on him, there was nothing else that seemed off about it.

He pushed through the finely carved wooden double doors with little trouble, though he remembered having trouble the last time he had been here. He did not dwell too long on that thought though since his joints weren't aching either. Clearly death had removed the more ill effects of his age.

Such thoughts were irrelevant though as he walked into the marble tiled and pillared foyer. He needed to discover what test god had in store for him and go about passing it.

Ricard looked about. There were two floors to the Villa. On the first were three rooms and up a mahogany stair case were two more. Still unsure of where and what he was supposed to do, he simply moved for the closest room on his left. It was filled many suits of armor as well as fancy dress uniforms gifted to him along one wall while dozens of racks of standard, exotic, and other such well made weapons lined the wall opposite them. Directly across from the door way were three more banners identical to those outside, one significantly larger than the two that flanked it. In the center of the room was a large sculpture of a pack of wolves perched on and around a pile of boulders, heads held high in a soundless howl.

Again, nothing seemed too out of place.

Next he went to the adjacent room, a much smaller one in comparison to the war gallery next to it. In it was a single table with a map of his homeland on it while on the walls were more detailed maps of other nations. Dominating one wall was a complete map of the world.

Nothing again.

The large art gallery across the foyer held dozens of fine paintings, sculptures, and tapestries he had either bought or been gifted for his services over the years.

Still nothing.

The second floor of the Villa was no different, either. His bedroom, its attached office and the guest room on the other side of the Villa were carpeted with four poster beds, several bookshelves filled to the brim with tomes, scrolls, and the like, as well as vanities, dressers, desks and so on.

Nothing.

Ricard scratched at his mustache as he contemplated what that meant. Perhaps the odd feeling outside Villa hadn't been due to his memory being faulty and had actually meant something. But what? He hadn't gotten the same feeling while he was inside the Villa so the Villa itself couldn't be the test god had prepared for him unless there was a specific area of the Villa he hadn't explored yet. Which was unlikely since he knew every nook and cranny of his own home.

Deciding that it would prove fruitful to go back outside, he exited into the courtyard. Again he got that strange feeling when he looked at his home. And then he slowly pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

There was now a third floor jutting out of middle of the roof.

A few moments later and a bit more thorough searching, Ricard discovered a small passage behind the vanity in his room with a ladder in it.

He really had no idea what to expect at the top of the ladder but even still he was surprised to find a great white expanse going on for what seemed to be eternity. He was even more surprised by hundreds, no, thousands of floating images that moved. When he realized the moving pictures were depicting different parts of his life through his eyes, he was simply shocked. What was this place? How was this possible?

He quickly regained his composure, however. This was god's work, surely. Ricard was sure that this feat was far from difficult for the great lord.

Something in the distance caught his attention.

Curious, he started for it. From afar it appeared to be a black horse but even from where he was he could tell it was too small. As he grew closer, the figure became more and more clear and he equally grew more and more tense. It was certainly horse shaped, though it looked like its brow would barely reach his collar bones, but that was where the similarities ended. Its head was not proportioned correctly, its eyes were nearly as big as its head, and its mane and tail looked like they were made from some bluish membrane. Even more disturbing were the insect like wings attached to a green carapace-like structure on its back, a gnarled horn on its brow and the fact that its mane, tail, wings, and legs looked to be riddled with holes near their ends.

Ricard had no idea what this creature was but he kept a hand on his longsword's grip just in case.

Eventually the creature seemed to notice his approach and turned away from the moving image, memories he reminded himself, and smiled. The fangs poking out from behind its lips did not dissuade his concerns. Ricard wasn't entirely surprised when it spoke. "Ah, so we finally meet, Ricard Lupus," it said in a regal, feminine voice that echoed slightly.

"Are you god?" he asked seriously, despite how ridiculous he thought he sounded. This was not how he, nor any one of faith probably, envisioned the divine creator. He reasoned, however, that god should not need to conform to mortal expectations. And if the creature said no then maybe he had found what he had been searching for.

The creature blinked in bewilderment before bursting into laughter. Ricard waited patiently for it to stop, already assuming that meant no. He was not offended by the outburst though, it had been a normally silly question for any sane person. That left the question then, who and what was this creature?

The creature regained its composure quickly and wiped away a single tear with its hoof. Ricard idly noted its flexibility and the strange material that made up its skin. It was no exoskeleton like he had seen on bugs and it wasn't scaled like a reptile yet it certainly look more durable that the skin of a mammal. The creature's voice broke him from his thoughts. "No, Sir Lupus-" now that was a title he hadn't heard for a while, "-I am not your god. Nor am I a god of any sort."

That gave Ricard pause. The way this creature had worded that made it sound as if there was more than one.

"Yes, Sir Lupus, there are far more gods than the one you know." He raised an eyebrow, wondering how she had known what he was thinking. She smirked, and again Ricard's thoughts were distracted by how strange this creature was. How could it have such human facial expressions with a muzzle? "Your emotions flared."

"Pardon?" he asked, this creature bewildering him more and more with each moment.

It opened its mouth to speak before pausing, apparently contemplating her response. After a moment, she spoke, "I'd rather not go into the specifics, considering where you're from, so I shall just say that I, as well as my people, can read, or better yet sense, emotions." Ricard nodded. That was simple enough to understand and the question of how could always be saved for later.

"Might I ask who and what you are then?"

The creature suddenly seemed much bigger, despite her having to look up at him, and he felt something hadn't felt in decades. Awe. "I am Queen Chrysalis, Monarch of the Changeling nation and people." She bowed he head slightly, enough to show respect but not more than someone of her position should. "A pleasure."

There was a small part of Ricard's mind that questioned the legitimacy of her claim that was quickly silenced by his instinct. The only other person to have held such an air about them was the now deceased king he had served so long ago. Even if she wasn't what she claimed, which he found unlikely, anyone who held themselves as she did commanded the utmost respect. As such, he let his right leg slide back as he gave a deep bow with his left hand on his stomach in submission and his right arm loosely stretched out to his side, the palm of his hand out and open in peace. "To you as well, your majesty," he returned, voice layered in reverence

When he stood, he saw Chrysalis sporting a rather satisfied smile. "You know, were it not for the fact that I had been perusing your memories for sometime now, I would have assumed you were mocking me."

"Never. I've only ever known one person who held himself as you do and I held him in very high regard."

Chrysalis tilted her head slightly in thought. "Ah yes, King Charles Gresley the Fifth. If your memories of him are even half true I can completely understand." There was a lull in the conversation before Chrysalis again spoke, "As pleasant as this meeting has been, I am not here for idle chatter."

Ricard nodded. It was time he learned what he had to do to pass on from this world.

"First of all, I am going to assume you think yourself dead." Ricard nodded. "In which case I have to tell you that you are very much alive." Ricard held up a hand, interrupting the changeling to her slight irritation.

"But I felt deaths embrace," he stated in a confused tone.

Chrysalis nodded. "Yes, your last conscious memory was of you dying soon after your final battle. And then you mysteriously appeared in the medical wards of my castle with little fanfare or clue to where you came from, covered in all manner of wounds but still clinging to life."

Ricard was silent as he digested this news. He was extremely skeptical of Chrysalis' words but his instinct told him that she was indeed telling the truth. His instinct had never failed him before when reason fled him and as he was talking to what appeared to be an equine-like insect that could sense emotions, reason was well and truly fleeing. So he accepted her words.

"If I am not dead then," he began, "and this is not the Purgatory I thought it to be, what is this world?"

"This," Chrysalis said dramatically as she gestured to the expanse around them, "is your mind. To be more precise, the manifestation of who you are."

"My mind..." he nearly deadpanned, still skeptical yet still running on instinct. If he stretched his belief just enough, he could understand. His Villa and the surrounding town had been designed mostly by him so, if Chrysalis was to be believed, everything from the walls to the garden around the Villa represented something about him. Perhaps even the completely empty streets too, he thought with slight amusement. "So then how are you here?" he asked.

"I am performing what is called a delve," she began. "It is the process by which a delver, like myself, links their own mind with a subject, in this case you, with magic to allow them to explore the mind and memories of the subject." The mention of magic didn't faze Ricard. By now he had resigned himself to learning many strange things that would make the scholars of his world either green with envy or foam at the mouth. "To avoid any future confusion, there was no spell involved as spells are too rigid for the diversity of every individual mind. The entire process involves the manipulation of magic in its purest state." That seemed interesting to know. He'd have to bring up the subject at a later date.

"And you found it necessary to examine my mind to ensure that I wasn't a threat before I regained consciousness."

"Precisely. Though I had to wait some time before I could perform the process safely for you were extremely injured when you arrived," she explained somewhat uncomfortably.

"And I'm going to guess that delving while I was near death is dangerous?" Ricard asked unnecessarily. From the way she was shifting, that was exactly it.

"Extremely so. Should the subject die during the process, the delver would experience extreme magical feedback from the unexpected break in the connection between minds that would cause the delver to become brain dead from the trauma."

There was a pregnant pause between the two while Ricard thought on the implications of the conversation. For one, the Queen was apparently risking her own life to ensure he wasn't a threat to her people, a foolish move that he couldn't help but respect. Two, he had apparently been in another world long enough for him to have recovered enough from his injuries to not be constantly at risk of dying. "I take it that my improved health is due to your people caring for me?" he asked, to which he received a nod. And three, he was now indebted to Chrysalis.

"So what now?" he asked.

Chrysalis was silent as she stared at him, examining everything from the obvious effects of age to his attire and weapons as well as all the memories she had gone through. With a firm nod, she came to a decision. "As you are no threat to me or mine, and you have no place to go or stay, I would offer you a place to stay amongst us."

And now Ricard felt doubly indebted to her. He had been nurtured back to health and now Chrysalis was offering him a new home without hesitation. He needed to figure a way to repay such kindness, even if it had been born of necessity at first. "I am humbled by your generosity, your majesty. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome," she said with a smile. "Now, since my business here is done, I believe its time to end this session."

Ricard nodded in agreement. Slowly, Chrysalis faded from view and with her so too did the world around Ricard. As darkness engulfed him, Ricard quickly wondered if everything that had just transpired was real or whether he had well and truly gone mad.