Part 47 "The Hand"

PART 47: THE HAND

Transcripts made & edited by jack

CWs: Corpses/corpse desecration, discussions of imprisonment, discussions of hanging, eye trauma, sounds of gore, coughing/hacking noises, illness, body mutilation

(BEGIN Part 47.)

 

(Metal continuously creaking at a distance. Footsteps on gravel.)

 

JOHN: Stop. (A pause.) Stop. Stop! (The footsteps stop.)

 

ARTHUR: What is it?

 

JOHN: I’m not sure. It’s obscured by the fog. 

 

ARTHUR: And you’re sure we’re still on the road?

 

JOHN: Yes. We’ve been on it since leaving the woods. Even though the fog is thick, I’ve managed to see that much.

 

ARTHUR: Feels like we’ve been walking through fog for… hours.

 

YORICK (brightly): Six hours and twenty two minutes, to be exact! (Arthur sighs.)

 

JOHN (sarcastically): Thank you, Yorick.

 

ARTHUR: We’d be moving quicker if it weren’t for this damn fog. (Metal creaking.) There it is again. 

 

JOHN: Straight ahead. Slowly. (Footsteps.) Here, here! (Metal creaking grows louder.) There’s… it’s… a cage. 

 

ARTHUR: A cage? (A slow piano melody begins.)

 

JOHN: A metal cage, maybe. Thirty feet above us. Hanging from a wooden post, bound around the body… of a dead man. 

 

ARTHUR: A gibbet. Jesus.

 

JOHN: A what?

 

ARTHUR: A gibbet. A form of… punishment, I-I…

 

JOHN: Were they put in there… alive? Or dead?

 

ARTHUR: I-I don’t know. It depends. 

 

JOHN: On what?

 

ARTHUR: What this man did. 

 

YORICK: A crime, no doubt. (Arthur and John huff.)

 

ARTHUR: Perhaps Castle Kerringford is nearby. (Footsteps.)

 

JOHN: If this fog lifted, we’d have a much better idea of where we are. (Arthur coughs.) Are you alright?

 

ARTHUR: Yes, yes. I’m just… feeling a little… off. 

 

JOHN: Take a moment.

 

ARTHUR: I-It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just the air around here, it feels… colder, sicker, in a way. I…

 

JOHN: Just… rest. We haven’t stopped at all today.

 

ARTHUR: No, I-I’m…

 

JOHN (insistent): Take a moment.

 

ARTHUR (sighing): Alright. (He grunts and sits.) 

 

JOHN: There. You’re still recovering from your wounds.

 

ARTHUR: Yes. I suppose. I feel… light-headed, a little bit.

 

YORICK: You are an apostle of Horig, now, Master! (Arthur sighs.) You carry him with you. You carry his… sickness.

 

ARTHUR: Look, I told you, I’m not an apostle, and I’m not sick.

 

JOHN: You told us yourself, Yorick! You’ve heard nothing of Horig or its origins.

 

YORICK: I am merely reflecting on what you’ve told me, and –

 

JOHN: So you’ve looked through no eyes. You haven’t seen anything in this world, or the Dark World, to support this. 

 

YORICK: No. This is merely what I sense.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, you think I’m sick. We know.

 

JOHN: Leave it be, Yorick. If Arthur says he’s fine, he’s fine.

 

ARTHUR (annoyed): Yes, I’m fine! Physically, at least.

 

JOHN: Physically?

 

ARTHUR: I-I just mean…

 

JOHN: What?

 

ARTHUR (weary): I-I-I don’t know. I just… (He sighs. A slow melody begins.) I’ve… faced a lot of demons in the past few months. A lot of… indescribable horrors.  Beings of such immense power, such… (He sighs.) Presence, I-I guess. I-I feel like I’ve taken a lot of hits. 

 

JOHN: Of course. We both have. What does this have to do with… Horig?

 

ARTHUR: I-I just… (Unhappily.) I folded, John. So quickly. 

 

JOHN: You had no other choice.

 

ARTHUR: I-I know, but… I was ready to… to follow him. To follow Horig. T-To become his… apostle. Willingly. 

 

JOHN: Were you, though?

 

ARTHUR: What do you mean?

 

JOHN: Did you have any intention of fulfilling his request? To follow his will?

 

ARTHUR: I-I don’t… I-I don’t know.

 

JOHN: Bullshit. You said what you said because you had to, not because you wanted to.

 

ARTHUR: I tried… to resist, I –

 

JOHN: And couldn’t! Neither of us could. When you danced around those… mushrooms, you were under some sort of… (He exhales.) You were influenced. You had no way of resisting.

 

ARTHUR: But once he was in my mind, I… gave in, I-I…

 

JOHN: Fought to survive! The only way you could. So what if you bent the knee to live another day? So what if you… 

 

YORICK: Sold your soul?

 

(Arthur sighs.)

 

JOHN (frustrated): No. Not that. 

 

ARTHUR: But not entirely untrue, either. With Larson, it was so… easy to fight against him. Against his… ideologies, because… in the end, he was just a man. But what can one do in the face of such… overwhelming odds? W-We can say all we want, but… in the eyes of Horig… I gave in. I offered myself to it. To survive. You know, what does that say about me? (‘Faroe’s Lullaby’ begins.)

 

JOHN: I don’t know. But… one moment of weakness doesn’t… have to redefine your entire journey. Would you have done anything different? Should you have? Where would we be if… if you had stuck to your guns, if you had spit in the eye of a god who had total and complete control over you?

 

ARTHUR: We’d be…

 

JOHN: Dead! (Arthur sighs.) I don’t have an answer that will make you feel better, Arthur. That’s not possible. And… I think… based on what you’ve taught me… that’s not a reflection of… what we are as humans. Sometimes we go against what we stand for, to survive. Sometimes we’re hypocrites. 

 

ARTHUR: I won’t be his apostle either way.

 

JOHN: I know. 

 

ARTHUR: You’re right. Thank you. It’s – it feels very bitter on my tongue, to so easily fold when I’ve been so vitriolic to those who… may have been in the same situation. Maybe it’s a bit of my own medicine, eh?

 

JOHN: Maybe. 

 

ARTHUR: O-Or maybe life is just shades of gray and a principle in one minute is questionable in the next.

 

JOHN: I think you’ve proven time and time again, you know what is the right path forward. So thank you.

 

ARTHUR: Thank you?

 

JOHN: For keeping us alive, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: Oh. (Slow melody begins. Dismissive.) Look, I-I –

 

JOHN: I was fast asleep. And you did everything you could… to once again pull us out of the fire. And you did. 

 

ARTHUR: I mean.

 

JOHN: It may not have felt as grandiose as me defeating the witch, of course… 

 

ARTHUR (chuckling): Hey now. (John chuckles.)

 

JOHN: But it was, perhaps, even more impressive. You saved both our lives. 

 

ARTHUR: Thanks. (Moving on.) Anyway. I suppose we should continue on through the fog, and –

 

YORICK: Master! 

 

ARTHUR: Yorick?

 

YORICK: I… have a request. 

 

JOHN: What?

 

YORICK: One that you have… already agreed to. 

 

ARTHUR: Which is…?

 

YORICK: The hag’s hand. You agreed to… help me with it.

 

ARTHUR: Yes? (Realizing.) You want help with it? Now?

 

YORICK: I require something for it.

 

(An ominous note.)

 

JOHN: For it?

 

YORICK: Yes. Something the man above us will provide.

 

ARTHUR: The man… you want me to…

 

YORICK: Yes. I need you to climb up and retrieve something from his corpse.

 

JOHN (angry): Hold on! We agreed to aid you in altering it, not in… whatever this is!

 

YORICK: This is part of said aid.

 

ARTHUR: Yorick, it’s thirty feet up. I don’t even see how I –

 

JOHN: That’s irrelevant. That wasn’t part of the deal. This would be above and beyond to what we already agreed to.

 

YORICK: I do not see it that way.

 

ARTHUR: Yorick, look. I agreed to help, but –

 

YORICK: Then fulfill this part of my request.

 

JOHN: Arthur, where does it stop? If we agree to this, he’s only going to request more and more, pushing the envelope each time! We have to say no now. 

 

YORICK: If you deny this… I will consider this… you breaking your promise, Master. 

 

ARTHUR: Breaking? That’s not fair.

 

YORICK: It is. 

 

JOHN: Arthur, don’t give into him. He’s –

 

ARTHUR: Fine! (John sighs angrily.) Fine. 

 

YORICK: Excellent!

 

ARTHUR: Look, but I don’t agree that it would be breaking our deal if I denied it. I wasn’t there when John promised you anything, I –

 

YORICK: But you were there when you agreed to help me. (John huffs.) 

 

ARTHUR: Look, fine. We’ll… honor it. Okay? 

 

YORICK (brightly): Wonderful! 

 

ARTHUR: What exactly do you need from… the body?

 

YORICK: His… eye. 

 

ARTHUR: His eye? Surely… they’ve been eaten, or… rotted away, I-I-I mean… (Footsteps.) Does it even have…?

 

JOHN: I don’t know. I can barely see up to –

 

YORICK: It does.

 

JOHN: How do you know that?

 

ARTHUR (quietly): Right. Suppose you wouldn’t be asking if you didn’t.

 

YORICK: I require only one. It should be loose enough to pry with your fingers.

 

JOHN: Jesus.

 

ARTHUR: And this is all for the witch’s hand?

 

YORICK: Yes.  (Footsteps.)

 

ARTHUR: What are you making? 

 

YORICK: That is not part –

 

ARTHUR (demanding): Tell me! Look, we’ll help you make it. We agreed to that much. I’m not asking what it does, I’m not asking why you want it. I’m asking what it is. 

 

YORICK: It is called… a Hand of Malevolence. (An alternate version of ‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.)

 

ARTHUR: A Hand… of Malevolence. 

 

JOHN (warning): Arthur.  (Footsteps.)

 

ARTHUR: Yorick, I-I… I… (He sighs.)

 

YORICK: I have told you. (Arthur huffs.)

 

JOHN: We can’t seriously be aiding him! I always told you that the Vanguard was not to be trusted. This is…

 

ARTHUR: Yorick, tell me this. (John huffs.) Do you intend to use this… to do us harm? O-Or to… bring harm upon us?

 

(A short pause.)

 

YORICK: No. (Arthur sighs.)

 

JOHN: And you believe him.

 

ARTHUR: No, but at least I asked. (Metal creaking. Footsteps.) Fine, look. You said this was… thirty feet up?

 

JOHN: Yes.

 

ARTHUR: Well, this was my concern. I-I mean, h-how do we even… Yorick, I can’t climb that, I-I…

 

YORICK: I am in no rush. (John makes a frustrated noise.) 

 

ARTHUR: Fine, fine. We can… We can sort this out. (Optimistically.) We still have light. Right? (A slow melody begins.)

 

JOHN: Not for very much longer. (Arthur sighs. Footsteps.) But… we can do this. We’ve tackled harder issues. Look, the pole is wood. It’s hanging over the road, almost.

 

ARTHUR: The pole…?

 

JOHN: Well, it’s straight up, and then a long piece of wood at the top swings out.

 

ARTHUR: Right, like… a gallow. Okay. We don’t need to… preserve anything here.

 

JOHN (tentatively): Maybe we can… burn it down.

 

(A whimsical tune begins.) 

 

ARTHUR (abruptly spluttering): Sorry, burn it, yes, uh. Maybe. 

 

JOHN: No?

 

ARTHUR: I-It’s a bit… drastic. But not… a bad idea. 

 

YORICK: There are no wrong answers in brainstorming. 

 

JOHN (furiously): Unless you are helping, shut your mouth!

 

ARTHUR: But you’re not wrong that we have nothing to… you know, preserve here, i-it can fall. What about the wood itself? (Footsteps. Pats on wood.) Is it rotting? Can I… push it over, maybe? How old does it look?

 

JOHN: It doesn’t seem that old. It isn’t exactly new, of course, but the wood still seems rather… firm. It would be very difficult and time consuming to try to cut the base.

 

ARTHUR: Okay. Okay. What about the cage itself? The iron bars around the man’s body? I mean, it’s creaking quite a bit.

 

JOHN: As I said, it’s difficult to see the top through the fog.

 

ARTHUR: It’s that thick, eh?

 

JOHN: Yes, but it is… moving, slowly. Like… murky water. In a moment, I might be able to see the top. The man himself is fairly… fresh. But I’m still surprised his eyes haven’t been eaten by the birds. His hair is dark… and his skin pale. His face is gaunt.

 

ARTHUR: Does it open, the cage?

 

JOHN: No, and as attached to the top… wait. I think… yes! I think a pin is loose on the top! 

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN: The cage is being held to the gallows by an iron pin, but it’s mostly pulled out! If we could… pull it out the rest of the way…

 

ARTHUR: Oh!

 

JOHN: I think the cage would fall!

 

(A whimsical tune begins.)

 

YORICK: Excellent hypothesis, my King!

 

JOHN: John!

 

YORICK: Right!

 

ARTHUR (overlapping): Yes, okay! But we still need to… would a rock do?

 

JOHN: If you hit it, I think so.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, I-I feel… (Pebbles shifting.)

 

JOHN: There are a few larger rocks by our… (The sound of stone.) Yes, yes, there, there!

 

ARTHUR (grunting in exertion): About this size?

 

JOHN: Yes, that could knock it out, but Arthur, it’s a tough hit.

 

ARTHUR: Well, look, until we think of anything more concrete, no sense in wasting time doing nothing.

 

JOHN: You’ll need more than a few to knock the pin loose.

 

ARTHUR: Right, right. (He grunts in exertion.)

 

JOHN: There, there. Okay. This isn’t going to be easy.

 

ARTHUR: I know, just look – I’ll throw, and you just tell me where to adjust. (He grunts. A distant ping.) 

 

JOHN (celebratory): Not bad, Arthur! You hit the cage! And near the top! Just a little higher. (Arthur grunts.)  Missed that time, but. (Arthur grunts. A distant ping.) You hit the pin!

 

ARTHUR: I did?

 

JOHN (thrilled): You hit the pin, Arthur!

 

ARTHUR: Excellent!

 

JOHN: It didn’t fall, but it moved, I saw it!

 

YORICK: Well done!

 

JOHN: The iron pin pivoted! One or two more good hits should bring it down. Get some more rocks!

 

ARTHUR: Right.  (Grunts of exertion, the sound of stones.) 

 

JOHN: Try again!

 

ARTHUR: I think I have the general locale, I just need to… hit it a few more times.

 

JOHN: Take your time, we can do this. (Arthur grunts. A distant ping.) Higher! 

 

ARTHUR: Damn. (Arthur grunts.)

 

JOHN: A miss. (Arthur exhales.) A little lower. (Arthur grunts.) No, still too high. (Arthur grunts.) Better! 

 

ARTHUR: It’s very difficult.

 

JOHN: I have no doubt.

 

ARTHUR: Let me get more. (The sound of stone. Feathers ruffling. John huffs.) Is that…? (A distant hoot.)

 

JOHN (displeased): Alexander.

 

ARTHUR: Alexander? That’s impossible. (Alexander screeches.) 

 

YORICK: The… owl. 

 

ARTHUR: Where have you been? We’re… so far away. 

 

JOHN: He’s sitting on top of the cage. (Footsteps.) How has this thing been following us since we first arrived?

 

ARTHUR (calling out): You’ll need to move, friend, I-I don’t want to hit you! (Sounds of gore, amidst metal creaking.)

 

JOHN: He’s biting the corpse! On its face… (In realization.) The eyes!

 

YORICK (determined): Stop him!

 

ARTHUR: Alexander, no!

 

JOHN: Throw a rock!

 

ARTHUR (unwilling): I’m not going to hit him!

JOHN: Then don’t hit Alexander! (Arthur sighs in aggravation.) Just hit the cage, scare him!

 

YORICK: Do not let them eat the eye! 

 

JOHN: Do it, Arthur! (Arthur grunts. A distant ping. Feathers ruffling.) There, there!

 

ARTHUR: Did I hit him?

 

JOHN: No, no. You just startled him. He’s fine.

 

ARTHUR: Oh, fuck.

 

JOHN: He’s flown away.

 

ARTHUR (downtrodden): I scared him away.

 

JOHN: Relax. (Arthur sighs.) It was eating the eyes. 

 

ARTHUR: Why? 

 

YORICK: Why indeed? 

 

ARTHUR: He followed us all the way here.

 

JOHN: Apparently. 

 

(A short pause.)

 

ARTHUR: I-I… Yorick, that owl… you don’t know any –

 

YORICK: The eyes, Master. We do not have long, and I believe your owl has eaten one of them.

 

JOHN (in horror): Jesus, he’s right.

 

ARTHUR: Fuck, okay. (Arthur grunts.)

 

JOHN: Miss.

 

ARTHUR: Damn. (Wryly.) You know, I was never much for athletics. (A slow melody begins. Arthur grunts.) 

 

JOHN: A little to the left.

 

ARTHUR: I was definitely more the… academic type. (Arthur grunts. A distant ping.)

 

JOHN: Nice! Again, you’re practically there. 

 

ARTHUR: Didn’t really try to be the type to compete in any of the… (Arthur grunts.)

 

JOHN: To the left a little more.

 

ARTHUR: Games or anything. Truth be told, I was a bit envious. (Arthur grunts. A distant ping.)

 

JOHN: Envious? 

 

ARTHUR: I… the companionship, the camaraderie, you know, the general… (Arthur grunts.) Fraternity of it all. 

 

JOHN: You wanted to fit in.

 

ARTHUR (grimly): Don’t we all. 

 

JOHN: Huh. 

 

ARTHUR: Truth was, I don’t think I was any good. And I was far too self-conscious to let my struggling be perceived by anyone else. (Moving on.) Anyway. (Arthur grunts. A distant ping.)

 

JOHN: Again! Almost there.

 

ARTHUR (sarcastically): If they could see me now. (He chuckles. Arthur grunts. A distant ping, followed by a loud metal crash.)

 

JOHN (overjoyed): Arthur! You did it! (They both laugh in victory.) Well done!

 

ARTHUR: Hey, wouldn’t you know!

 

YORICK: Well done, Master!

 

ARTHUR: Thank you, Yorick. I was… (A distant, shrill screech. John makes noises of fear. Whispering.) What was that?

 

YORICK: Might I suggest… moving quickly?

 

JOHN: I agree with Yorick. Quickly! (Footsteps.) Here, here. Here! 

 

ARTHUR: How do I… open it?

 

JOHN: Don’t open it! Reach in.

 

ARTHUR: Where?

 

JOHN: Here, here! (Metal tapping.) Higher. There! Slowly, now.

 

ARTHUR: Okay.

 

JOHN: Be careful not to brush up against him with your skin! Just the gloves, please.

 

ARTHUR: I’m trying! I’m trying. (A distant, shrill screech.) There it is again!

 

YORICK: Quickly! 

 

JOHN: A little higher!

 

ARTHUR: Okay, okay.

 

JOHN: There! (Sounds of gore.) Slowly… slowly…

 

YORICK: Careful! Careful!

 

JOHN: There. 

 

ARTHUR: Okay, okay. (A shrill screech, closer.) Something in the mist. Something is coming.

 

JOHN: It’s closer, Arthur!

 

YORICK: It is drawn to our noise.

 

JOHN: We need to run. We need distance from this. Now! 

 

(Suspenseful music starts and abruptly stops.) 

 

YORICK: No, Master! Hide. Off the side of the road. Quickly!

 

(A shrill screech.)

 

ARTHUR: Fine. We hide.

 

JOHN (upset): Arthur!

 

ARTHUR: Where is…? 

 

YORICK: To your left! (John huffs. Rapid footsteps.)

 

JOHN: How would you – (A shrill screech.)

 

YORICK: Quickly!

 

JOHN: Here, here! We’re leaving the road – (Arthur breathes heavily.) But if we can’t get back –

 

YORICK: The ditch, Master! (Repetitive thuds. Arthur makes noises of pain.)

 

JOHN (barking): Arthur! (More thuds. Arthur groans in pain.) Arthur. (Concerned.) Arthur! Are you okay? 

 

ARTHUR (muffled): Fine, fine. (He spits. A shrill screech.)

 

YORICK: Now, Master! You are hidden in the fog. Removed from the road, and away from what stalks you.

 

ARTHUR: Okay.

 

JOHN: Just wait here until it passes. (Shrill screeches continue intermittently throughout.) It –

 

YORICK: No. It is time to make the Hand of Malevolence.

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN (furiously): Yorick! We’re not making your fucking Hand right now!

 

YORICK: You must!

 

ARTHUR (whispering): No!

 

YORICK: I have waited too long!

 

JOHN: Yorick, there is a creature out there, stalking us, drawn to the sound! What on Earth would possess us to –

 

YORICK (distorted): Build it! Now! 

 

JOHN: The Vanguard, Arthur! This isn’t Yorick. I told you when we first –

 

YORICK (distorted): Shut up. Arthur Lester, I have followed you since the fire that covered the lake. Since my previous Master was beheaded by her brother! You will create this artifact now. (John grunts.) Take the hag’s hand from the bag!

 

JOHN (at a loss): Arthur…

 

ARTHUR (quietly): What am I supposed to do, John? (Fabric shifts.)

 

YORICK: Yes. Yes! 

 

JOHN: It’s out. Now what?

 

YORICK: Close its fingers to a point around the hanged man’s eye.

 

JOHN: You can’t be serious. (Slight noises of gore.)

 

YORICK: Now, a raven’s candle sits in her palm.

 

ARTHUR: Raven?

 

JOHN (growing angrier): A raven’s candle, we don’t have –

 

YORICK: A black candle! Hurry!

 

JOHN: Why are you doing this? (Fabric shifts.) Why now?

 

YORICK: The candle! Place it beneath the eye, in her palm! So when it is lit, it blackens the murky white eye! 

 

ARTHUR: It won’t st…

 

YORICK: Hold it in place with melted wax! (Arthur exhales. The lighter flicks.)

 

JOHN: This is some… dark artifact from what? How did you – ?

 

YORICK: From the Dark World. 

 

JOHN (in horror): From the Dark World… Arthur, you must stop!

 

YORICK: Do not stop!

 

JOHN: We’re creating a Hand of Malevolence from the Dark World! This Vanguard is our servitor, not our friend! He works for something greater than us! Something… more sinister.

 

YORICK: It is in place. Light it!

 

JOHN: Arthur, don’t!

 

YORICK: You must! (Distorted.) Light it!

 

JOHN: No!

 

YORICK (distorted): Light it! Now!

 

ARTHUR: God damn it! (The lighter flicks. The shrill scream is abruptly cut off. All is silent.)

 

JOHN: What? What’s happened? 

 

ARTHUR: I don’t know. (The lighter flicks. Whispering.) Where’s… why is it so quiet… where are we? 

 

JOHN: Where we were. At the side of the road, but. I-It’s quiet. 

 

ARTHUR: Deathly quiet.

 

JOHN: I don’t hear the creature.

 

ARTHUR: Yorick?

 

YORICK: Master?

 

JOHN: What did you do?

 

YORICK: I did nothing. You… lit the Hand of Malevolence. An extremely rare and powerful artifact, which… I give to you. (A slow melody begins.)

 

ARTHUR: What? 

 

YORICK: You may talk at a normal volume now, Master. She cannot hear you. 

 

JOHN (confused): She?

 

YORICK: The creature in the mists. 

 

ARTHUR: Mother Darkness?

 

YORICK: No. 

 

JOHN: Yorick, start explaining.

 

YORICK: Of course, John. First, I will admit that my… motivations are often not to go beyond what is asked of me. However. In this case, I made an… exception.

 

ARTHUR: An exception to what?

 

YORICK: To my duties. As Vanguard, I serve the interests of my Master in obtaining information asked of me. I do not offer it freely and I do not aid beyond that. 

 

ARTHUR (reasoning): Until now.

 

JOHN: What is this all about? What’s going on?

 

YORICK: The Hand of Malevolence, like its antithesis, offers an ability to its owner. While a Hand of Glory may give light only to its holder, this Hand, while lit, suppresses any and all magical effects from those around us and offers a small radius of… silence.

 

ARTHUR: What…? Magical effects? 

 

JOHN: So no one can hear us. The creature…

 

YORICK: As I said. That is no mere creature. (John hums.) 

 

ARTHUR: Explain yourself, I… I-I mean, t-thank you. I think. 

 

YORICK: You are welcome.

 

JOHN: Yes.

 

ARTHUR: But what are you talking about? What is that creature, you said – you said you didn’t know, y-you said –

 

YORICK: You have been watched since you first arrived here.

 

JOHN: Kayne?

 

YORICK: No.

 

ARTHUR (sighing): Alexander. 

 

YORICK: Correct. 

 

JOHN: That fucking owl.

 

YORICK: It is no mere owl. 

 

ARTHUR: What is it?

 

YORICK: I do not know, exactly. She is not Mother Darkness, nor is she of this place or time. She comes… from where you did. 

 

ARTHUR (shocked): What? How?

 

JOHN: But it’s not Kayne. 

 

YORICK: No.

 

ARTHUR: Surely it’s some agent of Kayne’s, then. Some… being that’s working with him?

 

YORICK: Quite the opposite, I believe.

 

JOHN: The opposite? It wants to help?

 

YORICK: No.

 

ARTHUR: H-H-Hold on, how do you know this?

 

YORICK: I have taken it upon myself to conduct my own… research.

 

JOHN: Like you did when we asked you questions as the Vanguard, looking through the Dark World and ours. 

 

YORICK: In a way, yes. She arrived shortly before you did, anticipating your arrival. She has the ability to change her shape, her appearance, her… form.

 

JOHN: Alexander tried to stop you from gaining the eye! She’s… 

 

ARTHUR: Smart.

 

YORICK: Extremely.

 

ARTHUR: But what does she want? Why stick to the shadows? 

 

YORICK: Her motivations are unclear. She is following you, watching over, waiting for something.

 

ARTHUR: Waiting?

 

YORICK: I do not know.

 

JOHN: So she… let Arthur die. She wasn’t there when the witch… carved him open. She didn’t… stop it. 

 

YORICK: No.

 

ARTHUR: She’s not protecting me.

 

JOHN: Is she here for me?

 

YORICK: I do not know why she is here. Perhaps she will make her presence known. What is clear is that she intends to follow at a distance and maintain an eye on… you, so to speak.

 

ARTHUR: She’s… dangerous, then?

 

YORICK: Extremely. I believe she is close in power to Nyarlathotep, or Kayne, as he has come to call this version of himself.

 

ARTHUR: Jesus.

 

YORICK: Though she is in a weakened state. Perhaps part of why she sticks to the shadows.

 

ARTHUR: But she didn’t want us to find out? She wanted to keep up the ruse.

 

JOHN: The candle is burning low, Arthur.

 

YORICK: This Hand can be re-used, and should be, but –

 

ARTHUR: We have only two more candles. 

 

YORICK: It will be difficult to find more. 

 

ARTHUR: Well, we were lucky.

 

YORICK: Very. 

 

ARTHUR: Why make this? Why help us in this way? Sure, I’m your Master, but John had to convince you to stay on our side with the hag, so –

 

YORICK: The candle is nearly done.

 

ARTHUR: Okay. (Stressed.) Ah – Jesus. Look, h-how do we stop her?

 

YORICK: I do not recommend you stopping her. She is motivated to remain with you. She would not be easily stopped. Perhaps… impossible to. 

 

ARTHUR: Okay. Well –

 

YORICK: One final thing, Master. She is weakened because… she has only recently become whole again.

 

ARTHUR: Alright. How?

 

JOHN (suddenly): Wait.

 

YORICK: She has recently become whole again… thanks to you.

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN (realizing): Silver eyes…

 

YORICK: The farm. (Unintelligible whispers rise in the background.)

 

ARTHUR: Scratch?

 

YORICK: Yes. (Eerie music plays.) She is the entity that you released from the home in New York. The fractured soul without her memory that called itself… Scratch.

 

ARTHUR (whispering): No.

 

JOHN (whispering): Fuck.

 

YORICK: At the farm, she became reunited and is whole once more. And now… follows you.

 

JOHN: The candle, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: She’s followed us… all the way here.

 

JOHN: Arriving before us.

 

YORICK: You are her… (The music and whispers stop.) Favorite. 

 

ARTHUR (harried): So… w-wait, s-s-so what do we – what do we do?

 

JOHN: What do you mean?

 

ARTHUR: D-Do we play along, still?

 

JOHN: She knows we lit this, right?

 

YORICK: She may.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, but… do we pretend it was something else, maybe bluff? Continue to keep her as a friend, a-as an owl?

 

JOHN: Or?

 

ARTHUR: Or confront her. Come out of this a-and confront what she is. Tell her… that we won’t be accompanied by her anymore, that we won’t play this game.

 

YORICK: She can most certainly understand John as well. If you are to play along, you cannot speak about her unless your words are magically suppressed, like now.

 

ARTHUR: Damn it.

 

JOHN: In other words, we both have to lie.

 

YORICK: Correct.

 

ARTHUR: Look, confronting her now doesn’t benefit us in any way. Whereas lying…

 

JOHN: Successfully.

 

ARTHUR: Right, well. It could cause her to reveal more of herself, you know, perhaps show her interacting with us in a different way – (Arthur breaks into a coughing fit.)

 

JOHN (concerned): Arthur… (Arthur groans.) How?

 

ARTHUR: Well, I-I-I just mean… she tried to eat the eyes before we could get them. You know, we thought it was just an owl being strange, but –

 

JOHN: Well, now we know it was to prevent us from creating this hand, from suppressing her magic!

 

ARTHUR: Exactly. Being aware of what she, as the owl, may be steering us towards… or away from… could be helpful.

 

JOHN: Right.

 

YORICK: A wise call, Master.

 

JOHN: Besides. If she can turn into an owl, who’s to say that… if we expose her, she won’t just come back as something we don’t notice? An insect or a fly?

 

ARTHUR: Right. We have the advantage, now. No reason to lose it. And she can’t… she can’t see us either, right?

 

YORICK: Not magically, no. (Arthur grunts.) 

 

JOHN: Alright. Agreed. The candle is nearly done. (Distant thunder.) It’s darker outside, too. We don’t have much daylight left.

 

ARTHUR: Okay. Well, is there anything else? I mean, quickly we need to discuss behind this veil of silence?

 

JOHN: I… I suppose… I should say… (‘Noel’s Theme’ begins.) Thank you, Yorick. I’m… sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry I… made it difficult for you to… I may have been… projecting my feelings about the Dark World. About myself, frankly, onto you. From the moment we found you… I’ve been hesitant to acknowledge you as… anything more than a mistake. And I realize… perhaps I was wrong.

 

YORICK: I understand. You are not wrong, however. I serve you now, Master. That may not always be the case. My actions and deeds… are defined by who I serve.

 

ARTHUR: Look, that’s okay. For now… thank you, again. From me as well. Obviously, we… can’t let on that you told us anything.

 

YORICK: Of course. I am fine with that.

 

JOHN: Good, because I’ll be right back to telling you to shut up when the veil drops. (A whimsical tune begins.) Purely for appearances.

 

ARTHUR: Alright. Well, i-if we need to speak again… if we need to, any of us, you know, say… say the phrase… ‘In the fell clutch of circumstance’.

 

JOHN: Oh?

 

ARTHUR: It’s unique enough that it won’t come up, and hopefully won’t feel too odd being slotted into conversation. But who knows when we’ll be alone again.

 

JOHN: Alright.

 

ARTHUR: Okay. I’ll blow out the candle.

 

JOHN (abruptly): A-Arthur?

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN: She… I don’t know what she is. But something feels different about this. Dangerous. Moreso than Kayne. Moreso than ever before. Something big is happening here between her, the Blackstone, Kayne… like… like this is it. 

 

ARTHUR: This is it? (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.) 

 

JOHN: We are heading into something. Some… confrontation. Between who or what yet, I don’t know, but. I don’t think… it’s just… our lives on the line anymore. Or those we love. I feel like… everything… may be lost. Whatever’s coming… it’s big. 

 

ARTHUR: I feel it, too. I let Horig shake me. I was caught off guard, and… influenced in some way. And I let that weakness seep into me. I know that… cult is dead, now. Malam saw to that. But I still folded. To survive, yes, but… (He sighs.) I’m not gonna let that happen again. Whatever happens… whatever we’ll face… we’ll stare it down. Together. Alright. I’m sorry for this, Yorick.

 

YORICK: What?

 

(Arthur blows out the flame. A crack of thunder, falling rain.) 

 

ARTHUR (angrily): I don’t care what you say, you miserable, rotted skull! I’m not going to light this!

 

JOHN (growling): I knew you were lying! Arthur, we cannot trust this thing!

 

YORICK: Master, I –

 

ARTHUR: Enough. (John growls.) I will destroy this Hand next chance I get, and you will never see this sick trinket brought to life. Do you understand me?

 

YORICK (purposefully): Yes. 

 

ARTHUR: Now. You will help us when we see fit, a-and that is it. Now, this… creature… 

 

JOHN: W-Well, it… it seems to have… passed us by. 

 

ARTHUR: It seems to have. Thank God. 

 

JOHN: Arthur, it’s nightfall. (Thunderclap.) The rain is coming down.

 

ARTHUR: We need to find the road and follow it to the castle.

 

JOHN: Straight ahead. That’s where we came from. (Footsteps. Arthur’s grunt of exertion.) The fog is lifting. Slowly. Here, here! The road! 

 

ARTHUR: Alright. Let’s keep going. The direction we’re heading, a-and put all this horrible… nonsense behind us, Yorick.

 

JOHN: Hopefully the creature won’t return.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, hopefully. Let’s go. 

 

JOHN: The moon is bright behind the stormclouds, enough to show the fog passing on our left. 

 

ARTHUR: What do you see?

 

JOHN: To the left of the road is a river, and beyond that, the edge of a forest. 

 

ARTHUR: Of course.

 

JOHN: But it’s been… clear cut.

 

ARTHUR: Clear cut?

 

JOHN: Yes. For as far as the moonlight allows me to see, the trees have been cut and removed.

 

ARTHUR: Someone is building something.

 

JOHN: Ahead, the fog parts as well. I can see the road, which stretches out before us, but it bends up ahead and turns to cross the river. 

 

ARTHUR: To the left?

 

JOHN: Yes. 

 

ARTHUR: Yorick, Prince Warin, who you… were. Who I’m pretending to be. Of Aravel, correct? 

 

YORICK: Correct!

 

ARTHUR: Where is Aravel, I-I don’t recognize the name?

 

YORICK: It is a region of this land.

 

ARTHUR (confused): Is it? I-I didn’t… I mean, I don’t know my history very well…

 

YORICK: Prince was named in title after receiving the land from King Louis –

 

ARTHUR (more confused): What do you mean, ‘in title’? Is he royalty, o-or –

 

YORICK: No. Aravel is feudal land, but his family being loyal to the King of England, Louis the Eighth, was gifted it and –

 

ARTHUR: Louis the Eighth? Well, h-hold on. I’ve never heard of… t-that doesn’t sound right.

 

YORICK: It is.

 

ARTHUR: King Louis? A-And prince in title only? W – Did something happen?

 

YORICK: I do not understand.

 

JOHN: You mean, in this timeline?

 

ARTHUR (sighing): I guess, but Yorick only knows what Warin knew… I mean, I-I can’t… when did this King’s reign start?

 

YORICK: Nearly forty years ago.

 

ARTHUR (flabbergasted): Jesus! I-I would’ve recalled that, that – that’s –

 

YORICK: He took the crown, after the murder of King John. 

 

ARTHUR: Murder!? 

 

YORICK: Yes. Land barons under King John’s rule murdered the King and his family! Thankfully, our salvation came from our true King’s home in France. He has united our great country together and –

 

ARTHUR: What? I…

 

JOHN: Is that not what happened in our timeline?

 

ARTHUR: No! No, no. I-I mean… it sounds like… France has invaded England. (Thunderclap.) Successfully! Over forty years ago.

 

JOHN: So things are different.

 

ARTHUR: To say the least. That would explain why Warin is prince, not royalty. Perhaps… customs of France have become commonplace here.

 

JOHN (awed): Arthur…

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN: The fog to our right has parted, finally. I see it.

 

ARTHUR (whispering): What?

 

(A slow melody begins.) 

 

JOHN: The castle. Just as it was through the Glass of Leng, sitting atop a hill in darkness, lit by flashes of lightning. Castle Kerringford. 

 

ARTHUR: How far?

 

JOHN: Not far at all. The road passes right by its gates. 

 

ARTHUR: Yorick, I need to know everything about this prince.

 

YORICK: What would you like to know?

 

ARTHUR: Everything.

 

YORICK: I know far too much! You will need to be… more… specific!

 

ARTHUR: More specific, well… uh, if this is a different timeline, h-how – how would the politics differ?

 

YORICK: That question is not about the prince.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, yes, I know, but. Still, you know, d-d-did he know about – (Arthur breaks into a coughing fit.) 

 

YORICK: I do not understand.

 

JOHN (confused): What are you asking, Arthur?

 

ARTHUR: What I know if this era –

 

YORICK: You just said, you do not know your history very well.

 

ARTHUR (coughing): I-I know, I know, I know, but. I-I-I-I mean. (Flustered.) I don’t, but look. This isn’t our timeline, so… knowing how the politics differ, o-or maybe… what they are could help us.

 

JOHN: With what?

 

ARTHUR: With understanding this time and place, so… we could better fit in?

 

JOHN (kindly): Alright, right.

 

YORICK: I understand. However. Without knowing how politics are in your timeline, I have no way of knowing how they differ. And –

 

ARTHUR: Okay, then. What…  (At a loss.)

 

JOHN: We know there’s a king, and that ‘prince’ is in title only, not part of a monarchy.

 

ARTHUR: Right, and – is the French influence everywhere? How much of the culture is… is different, i-is it influenced by –

 

YORICK: I do not know.

 

ARTHUR: God damn it. (He coughs severely.)

 

JOHN: A-Arthur! Take it easy.

 

ARTHUR: I know, I know. I’m sorry. (Breathless.) I’m having a tough time thinking clearly.

 

JOHN: Yorick has no gauge in which to –

 

ARTHUR (irritated): I know, I know. I know.  (He sighs.)

 

JOHN: We want to know about Warin, Arthur. How he acts, what he does. What people know about him. He’s the one you’re pretending to be. (Arthur coughs.) If you don’t know what they might –

 

ARTHUR (insistent): I know. I, I’m having a tough time concentrating. 

 

JOHN (whispering): Fuck. (Normally.) Well, then maybe we should wait. Camp out in the woods, rest up.

 

ARTHUR: No, no. I’m fine. And if I am sick –

 

YORICK: You are. 

 

ARTHUR: I need to press on. While I can. 

 

JOHN: Fine.

 

ARTHUR (moving on): Look, look. I got caught in this notion of trying to understand the bigger picture, the bigger world here, what kinds of things are different. Etiquette and the like –

 

YORICK: Etiquette! About how the prince would behave?

 

ARTHUR: Yes. Yes, I think. That-That sort of –

 

YORICK: The other members in attendance would be waiting for him to arrive. Others may have arrived earlier and more recently. You being delayed would mean you are most assuredly the last. They will show you to your room. A gift is customary.

 

ARTHUR: A gift?

 

JOHN: Fuck.

 

YORICK: Yes.

 

ARTHUR: W-What was the prince going to give as a gift?

 

YORICK: Livestock. But the prince did not know if our host had the ability to house said livestock. He decided on gold.

 

ARTHUR (eagerly): Great, great! W-Where, where is it? (He hacks and spits.)

 

YORICK: I do not know. Lost in the accident. Perhaps in the witch’s lair.

 

JOHN: Will they be expecting a gift?

 

YORICK: Certainly.

 

ARTHUR: Alright, well. A ring, a ring, in the bag! We have…

 

JOHN: From the Order. (Fabric shifting. A slow melody begins.)

 

ARTHUR: Yes. Where…?

 

JOHN: There, there.

 

ARTHUR: Is it gold?

 

JOHN: It looks like it could be.

 

ARTHUR: It’ll have to do.

 

JOHN: Arthur. We’re nearly at the castle. (A gentle melody begins.) It stands against the dark sky, menacing, imposing, as if… leaning over the grounds beneath it. The peaks tower high above the barren lands. Black roofs stab at the sky like fangs. The castle is walled by dark gray stone, and the gates, directly on this path, are tall, black wood. Almost as if they were… burnt.

 

ARTHUR: Okay. Look, we’ll have a room, a gift for the host… a-and… (He coughs again, with noises of pain.) 

 

JOHN: Arthur…

 

YORICK: And?

 

JOHN: Yorick, what could anyone there know about the prince? That’s the important –

 

ARTHUR: Hold, hold on. (John sighs.) What, what etiquette – what do we refer to the host as?

 

YORICK: The letter stated, amongst other things, the host is Lord Everard.

 

JOHN (indignant): The letter?

 

YORICK: So, ‘Lord’ would be fitting.

 

ARTHUR: Lord Everard? (He coughs severely.)

 

JOHN: You said the host was not known!

 

YORICK: Correct! Lord Everard was not a familiar name to the prince. (John grunts in frustration.) The letter detailed a number of things that caused the prince to question who this lord was.

 

JOHN: Arthur – (Arthur starts coughing and wheezing.) Arthur, we need to know… (Arthur continues.) Arthur, stop. Stop! For a moment. You’re just outside the gates. Listen. I don’t think you’re thinking straight.

 

ARTHUR: I, I just… I’m trying, I’m trying, I just –

 

JOHN: No, you’re not. Not the way you taught me. There are pieces here you’re missing. Look, the letter would at least be worthwhile to know, or anything about Warin! How he’s received, how he would approach… I think you’re… mixed up, and forgetting pieces. You need to pretend to be Warin. Yes, etiquette, the world is interesting, but – (Arthur coughs. Insistently. A gentle melody begins.) Arthur, lean on me. Please, let me help. 

 

ARTHUR (fragile): You’re right, you’re right. I can’t… (Stronger.) Yorick, answer John. All his questions, they’re – they’re important. (He huffs.) I-I’m just… I’m used to taking the lead, alright? I’m sorry. 

 

JOHN: It’s alright. 

 

ARTHUR: Please. Yorick, a-answer John, a-a-and when you – (A great metal groaning and clicking.) 

 

JOHN: Arthur! The gates are opening.

 

ARTHUR: To the castle?

 

JOHN: Yes. 

 

YORICK: Castle… Kerringford. 

 

ARTHUR: No more, Yorick. Silent from here on out. John.

 

JOHN: Right. (The metal clicking continues.) The gates are opening, slow... and menacing, like the jaw of some colossal beast of the past. (A final metal thud.) A figure stands within the castle walls. He’s lit by the torch he carries. He’s walking towards us. (Arthur coughs.) Here we go. 

 

ARTHUR (rasping): Greetings! 

 

JOHN: He’s approaching. (Footsteps.)

 

ARTHUR: Greetings.

 

JOHN: He’s just before us, he’s…

 

ARTHUR: I hope…

 

JOHN (in horror): His mouth.

 

ARTHUR: I hope that…

 

JOHN: It’s sewn shut. (Fabric pulling.)

 

ARTHUR: I…

 

JOHN: His face is pale, his eyes dark. He’s wearing a helmet and chainmail, but… he doesn’t look frightened or in pain. The stitches on his mouth are old and faded. Pieces of the skin around his mouth look… fused together. With time. 

 

ARTHUR: I am here, on the request –

 

JOHN: He’s turned around. I believe he wants us to follow. 

 

ARTHUR: Right. (Footsteps.)

 

JOHN (amidst a dark melody): We’re crossing the bridge, entering the inner courtyard. It’s pitch-black beyond the walls, and the courtyard is… scarcely lit. (A metal thud and clicking in the distance.) A few scattered torches on the far walls and the one this man holds seem to be the only light. It looks… deserted. The courtyard itself is an odd mix of what looks to be forgotten wood, debris, and… some carriages that seem to be out of place against the more ramshackle inner workings of this castle. Perhaps it’s not fair to say it looks deserted. Castle Kerringford looks… ill-kept, maybe.

 

ARTHUR (whispering): What about guards?

 

JOHN: Only the one leading us. I see no others. But I doubt this castle has a need to defend. (Arthur coughs.) We’ve reached the far end of the courtyard. A set of stone steps lead up to a large set of double doors. They look as though… they were once red, but.

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN: They… They seem familiar, almost. Like the ones that led into the city, within the Dreamlands. Where we first met Kayne. 

 

ARTHUR: Kayne?

 

JOHN: The man has stopped. I think he heard you, though his face does not betray his true thoughts. 

 

ARTHUR: Lead me inside. 

 

JOHN: He continues to the doors. Stop, stop! Here. He’s… opening the doors. (A wooden creak.) There it is, Arthur. The castle lay before us. He stands to the door and gestures inside. (Seriously.) This is it, Arthur. Good luck. (A wooden creak, followed by footsteps.)

 

(A final click.)

 

(END Part 47.)