The Beginning of the End

Yes, I am quite aware this is an epilogue but I'm experimenting. I think having this book start with the ending will be very beneficial to my plot layout and twists. ENJOY!

           The King let out an earth shattering cry as he galloped towards the burning church. His steward chased after- shouting for him to stop, that the rescue was futile, but the King couldn’t hear him over his own screams of anguish. A figure looked down at them from the steeple. It was a young man surrounded by a hellish aura of flames. It was his nephew. The young man lifted his hand in farewell before returning to the heart of the inferno. The men and women of the village who had been fighting to douse the fire stopped and stared in disbelief at his retreating back.  It was over. The heir to the throne had chosen death.

                The elder Rosaline who had been tending to the injured gently placed her bloodied rags on the grass. Slowly she rose from her knees- her body frail with age trembled as she lifted her hands to the night sky. She whispered to the heavens, she whispered to the trees but above all else whispered to the voices who whispered back. The voices were those of the villagers who joined her in prayer. Her words grew louder as the men stomped the ground in unison creating a definite rhythm. The children bowed their heads and swayed with the wind as ashes rained down on them. The women sang softly- a tune that the prince had adored very much, the song of a devoted lover. The song his beloved would never be able to sing.

                “What are they doing? Why have they stopped extinguishing the damn flames!” demanded the King to his steward.

                The steward who had known the prince very well leaned breathlessly against the King’s horse. Absentmindedly he stroked the white mane of the royal mare.

                “They are singing my King,” said the steward, “they wish for the prince to die as a lover- not as casualty of the crown.”

                The King lowered himself from his horse and walked weakly towards the villagers. His guard scattered around him in an effort to protect him, but he waved them away. He stood next to the elder Rosaline and placed a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know what it was that they were singing, but he would sing silently from his heart. He too would send his nephew off as a man in love rather than a King to be.

"I’ll wait by the orchard where the apple blossoms grow

The sweet, sweet smell of the apple blossom grove

The sea will bring you home, the sea will bring you home

We’ll dance all night where the apple blossoms grow."

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Anubis]

Really interesting start... or end.
I'm intrigued that you'd put the epilogue first, it'll be cool to see where you go with this :)