{"id":1094,"date":"2025-03-26T21:35:00","date_gmt":"2025-03-27T04:35:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/roses-wildflowers-pure-classicpress.local\/?post_type=stories&p=1094"},"modified":"2026-07-11T16:47:54","modified_gmt":"2026-07-11T23:47:54","slug":"old-willums-final-tale","status":"publish","type":"stories","link":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/","title":{"rendered":"Old Willum\u2019s Final Tale"},"content":{"rendered":"
\r\n\r\n \r\n
\r\n\r\n
\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\r\n\r\n \r\n
\r\n
\r\n
\"Illustration

Copyright Seren Derreth. All rights reserved<\/p><\/div>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

\r\n
\r\n

Old Willum looked down at the figure in the shadows, and knew he had run out of time. He\u2019d had a good life, he supposed; seventy-six years was astonishing in a place like this. He had his neighbours to thank for that \u2013 the generosity in this strange little town was remarkable.<\/span><\/p>\n

And how had he repaid them?<\/span><\/p>\n

Staring over the ledge, he had a sudden impulse to step off it and tumble down the mountain. His body was already falling apart, and he imagined it would be over quite quickly. And at this stage it didn\u2019t make much of a difference.But he owed them more than that.<\/span><\/p>\n

A ghost blazed overhead as he turned away and started to hobble back towards his little hut. To his old eyes, it was little more than a rush of brightness, but he remembered what they looked like \u2013 featureless figures being pulled by the chest towards Goulcrest Mountain, like they had fish-hooks lodged in their ribs. Sometimes they screamed. Everyone had seen them; he didn\u2019t know anyone who hadn\u2019t had a grandparent, or a sibling, or a child die, and stayed up to watch the ghost leave. It was one of those things you just had to do, like looking after the deceased’s pets, or keeping an eye on any widows. It would be wrong to just leave them alone.<\/span><\/p>\n

He stumbled over a loose rock and tore the old skin of his palms against the ground. He stayed down for a few seconds, waiting for his insides to catch up with his outsides, and then slowly dragged himself back up.<\/span><\/p>\n

Another two ghosts flashed past. They were everywhere here. Of course, they would be. Willum had seen a lot of the world, and he knew that there was far more he hadn\u2019t seen. He thought about every town, every village, every magnificent port city. How many people died out there every day? The souls of a whole world, all dragged to this mountain in a brilliant light show, where Kol, god of death, received them all. Soon his soul would be one of them. Would he be aware of it, as he was yanked into the great god\u2019s maw?<\/span><\/p>\n

Actually, Kol <\/span>didn\u2019t<\/span><\/i> eat the ghosts. Willum had learned that when he first arrived here, over a decade ago. Instead, it spread its enormous wings \u2013 wings that covered a good half of the mountain as it slept in the day \u2013 and gathered the ghosts in. At dawn, it curled those wings in again, and by the next night the ghosts would be gone.<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum reached his hut \u2013 a sturdy little thing put together by Lewin Fogg, the local stonemason. It sat comfortably near the centre of the village, nestled between Lewin\u2019s own home, and the communal kitchen full of big bread ovens, across from the mountain stream they all collected water from. One advantage of living this close to a god of death was knowing that your stream was always safe to drink from. No animals would live this near to Kol; only humans were that crazy.<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum stared blankly at the smooth, slightly soot-stained stone of his door for a few seconds, then turned sideways and knocked on Lewin\u2019s door instead.<\/span><\/p>\n

One of his children opened it \u2013 the middle one, Ivo. The boy grinned. \u201cDad! Old Willum\u2019s here! Can we go do stories?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A brief smile pushed through Willum\u2019s [gloom] as Ivo\u2019s sister Lina emerged, and little Tedric, the four year old, ran up to him. Years of watching after the village\u2019s children, telling them stories about the world beyond Goulcrest and keeping them out of trouble, meant that he knew most of them better than he knew their parents. The middle-aged man coming up behind them, with the impressive wrinkles on his forehead and the large nose, was an exception.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s after dark, Ivo.\u201d Lewin said, as he edged past his children to face Willum. \u201cDo you need something?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Suddenly incredibly conscious of the time, Willum backed up. \u201cNo. No, it can wait.\u201d he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lewin frowned, and took a step forward. \u201cSomething\u2019s wrong, isn\u2019t it?\u201d he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lina, Lewin\u2019s eldest, peeked out from behind him. \u201cHe\u2019s been sad lately,\u201d she said. \u201cHe\u2019s been telling sad stories and doing the sigh-thing. He always does that when he\u2019s sad.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDoes he?\u201d asked Ivo, and the two children started to whisper to each other.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lewin ignored them, staring into Willum\u2019s eyes with an incredibly disconcerting intensity. The silence stretched out between them, and Willum couldn\u2019t stop himself from filling it. \u201cI-I did something bad. A long time ago. And\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He trailed off, staring at Lewin pleadingly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now it\u2019s time for me to go,\u201d he finished.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lewin narrowed his eyes. \u201cGo how?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum didn\u2019t answer, but he could tell that Lewin knew what he had meant.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI see.\u201d The man said quietly.<\/span><\/p>\n

They stared at each other for a little longer, and then Lewin turned around to where Lina and Ivo were rapidly getting into one of those arguments that always spawns when small children are up too long after bedtime.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLina,\u201d he said, \u201cI want you to go get Audley and ask her to light the big fire, okay?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Lina looked from her father to Old Willum with worried eyes, than darted past him and disappeared into the dark.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about me?\u201d Ivo demanded.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lewin eyed him, then turned back to Willum. \u201cYou\u2019re\u2026 going away?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum nodded hesitantly, and Lewin looked back at his son. \u201cThen you can go by every house in the village, and tell everyone that Willum is leaving us, and we need to say goodbye.\u201d Ivo set off running, and Lewin called after him, \u201cTell them to meet us by the big fire!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum felt a flickering of panic, but he pushed it down. Lewin was right. He had to face them, and tell them what he\u2019d done. He nodded, and hobbled towards the centre of the village.<\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span><\/p>\n

The little village of Goulcrest didn\u2019t have a leader \u2013 they didn\u2019t need one. When everyone knows everyone, and they all look after each other, there\u2019s no need for the complicated systems of the big feudal cities. Still, there was a kind of hierarchy, based on who liked who most, and who was most useful to have around. Lewin, as the most skilled stoneworker in a mountain village which <\/span>really<\/span><\/i> needed not to be flammable, had a lot of respect. It wasn\u2019t just that he had built most of their homes; he had a calm way of just dealing with things and was always the sensible voice in a crisis.<\/span><\/p>\n

So when he sent his children to call everyone in for a night-time meeting by the big bonfire, the whole village turned out.<\/span><\/p>\n

Even as his insides were twisted up with nerves, the storyteller in Willum noted that the atmosphere was perfect. The screaming ghosts scoring bright lines across the sky, the giant fire casting flickering shadows across the worried faces of the villagers. Any other night he\u2019d have been telling them about the abandoned cities in the northern forests where the Siyala people once lived, or about the rebellion he\u2019d joined in Synti, where they\u2019d won against a terrible ruler despite being outnumbered one to one hundred. But tonight was different.<\/span><\/p>\n

He stared into the concerned eyes of the villagers he\u2019d lived with for over a decade, and his courage failed. \u201cI\u2026Uh\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStory!\u201d little Tedric burst out in that particularly angry voice used by small children who feel that the adults around them are fundamentally failing them.<\/span><\/p>\n

In a single beautiful moment, Willum realised that the boy was right. He was a story teller. He should tell his story. He took a deep breath, and slipped on the animated, grandfatherly cloak that always hid his emotions when he was storytelling.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve lived a long time,\u201d he said, his voice suddenly stronger, \u201cand I\u2019ve seen a lot of things, and heard a lot of stories. In the time I\u2019ve lived here, I\u2019ve told them all to you. All but one. My story.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut all of your stories have been about you.\u201d Lina pointed out, confused.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d Willum admitted, \u201cBut this one is different. This is the story of my life, and of why I came here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

And of why he shouldn\u2019t have added to himself.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve always travelled from place to place, and done foolish and crazy things to find out what would happen. I never had time for a wife, and I never had children\u2026\u201d He paused, glancing at some of the smaller faces peering out of his audience. \u201c\u2026of my own.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut I did try, once. Her name was Kari, and she loved adventure just as much as I did. I met her when I was working at her sister\u2019s tavern, in exchange for my board. It was the longest I\u2019d stayed in once place since leaving home-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut you\u2019re a storyteller!\u201d Ivo burst out indignantly, \u201cWhy were you working at a tavern?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou accumulate stories with age, Ivo. I didn\u2019t have any back then.\u201d He chuckled. \u201cAnd now they\u2019re all I have got left.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He\u2019d said it as a joke, with a twinkle in his eye, but under the cloak he could feel the truth of it. Seventy-six years, and all he had was a collection of stories, and a lifetime\u2019s worth of guilt.<\/span><\/p>\n

He turned, his eyes dancing across his crowd as he went on. \u201cI was already thirty, and she was a bit older. She had black hair but with two beautiful silver streaks down the sides.\u201d Willum gestured at one of the watching women, \u201cA bit like Missus Gibbs has.\u201d Missus Gibbs smiled, and Willum went on. \u201cShe\u2019d been stuck in that same place for a long time, and it was killing her. Bit by bit, second by second, she was fading away. I was the same. I was putting myself in danger all the time, travelling constantly, trying to find some kind of meaning. We got it from each other, and when I moved on, she came with me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe travelled together for months, exploring deep caves full of unseen horrors, and sailing to far away places where the air is like steam, and you can\u2019t see a foot in front of you, and you\u2019re so hot you could burn.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut it was back here in Azandia, not far from my own hometown, where we came to a strange little town.\u201d He looked up at the screaming ghosts and re-calibrated, \u201cWell, quite strange. It had grey buildings clustered together just as all of you are around the fire. Scared little building and scared people, too. And such strange people, as well. There were no children there, and adults looked as old and wizened as-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAs you?\u201d asked Ivo brightly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum widened his eyes and leaned forwards. \u201cEven older. They had heads like sultanas with eyes.\u201d He winked pointedly at the boy, then went on, \u201cWe tried to get them to tell us what they were so afraid of, but not one of them would say a word.\u201d Willum raised a finger. \u201c<\/span>Except<\/span><\/i> for one old woman.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018What is this place?\u2019 we asked her, \u2018Why is everyone so frightened?\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe lowered her wrinkly head, and pinned her pale eyes on the ground. \u2018Run away from here.\u2019 she whispered, in a rough old voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018No chance!\u2019 said Kari, \u2018and anyway, I want to explore that forest of yours.\u2019 Her eyes shone. \u2018There could be anything in there!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe old woman lurched forwards, and grabbed her arm, gnarly fingers digging into her skin. \u2018Don\u2019t!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cKari pulled herself away and stared at the woman. \u2018<\/span>Why?<\/span><\/i>\u2019 she asked, \u2018Why will none of you tell us what\u2019s going on here?\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut the old woman wouldn\u2019t answer. She just stared at us with big, pale eyes until we walked away. It gave us prickles down our necks, and we could still feel them as we walked into the forest.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat was silly.\u201d said Lina, \u201cShe said not to go in there, so why did you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum\u2019s stomach tightened. He\u2019d been thinking about it for decades, but it still hurt to hear it. Ivo answered for him, and he answered it perfectly. \u201cIt\u2019s obvious.\u201d he said, \u201cHe wanted to know <\/span>why<\/span><\/i> she said not to.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Lewin gave his son a look, and Ivo grinned back.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s quite right.\u201d said Willum, \u201cWe just had to find out.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe forest actually looked quite beautiful from the outside, orange and red as fire with its autumn leaves. We told each other that the townsfolk were silly and superstitious, and we laughed about their sullen eyes and the old woman\u2019s warning. We settled next to a tall tree at around noon to eat. Its bark was strangely grey, and I prodded it mistrustfully. And it prodded me right back with one of its branches!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum slowed for a second, wondering if he was going to lose his adult audience \u2013 he was so used to telling stories for children\u2026 But, no, they all seemed to be engaged.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo I said to Kari, \u2018This tree just hit me!\u2019\u201d – One of the listening children giggled \u2013 \u201cAnd she laughed at me. She had a really weird, snorty kind of laugh, and I loved to hear it. She got up, still laughing, and took the ribbon out of her hair. She wrapped it around the offending branch and tied it back, then sat down beside me. \u2018You,\u2019 she said, \u2018are a very odd person.\u2019\u201c\u2018Not compared to you.\u2019 I told her, and she laughed again. We-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWas something watching from the shadows?\u201d asked Lina.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d said Willum, honestly, \u201cBut we certainly didn\u2019t see it. I was so focused on Kari that a whole chorus of fairies could have danced past me and I wouldn\u2019t have noticed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe moved on again soon after that, and it started to get dark. Normally we liked the dark, but this time it was different. The shadows were stretching wrong, and the wind had picked up, and our breaths were suddenly making clouds. We leaned closer to each other, and I could feel that Kari had started shivering.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A particularly low flying ghost screamed past, and everybody ducked. For any other audience, Willum would have shouted as they straightened up, trying to scare them, but no-one could live in Goulcrest for more than a few years without becoming completely immune to jumpscares. Instead, he paced around the edge of the fire. He was feeling better now. Better than he had in years, actually. He didn\u2019t want to be telling this story, but in an odd sort of way he needed to. It was like it had been trapped inside him for years, clawing at his insides, and now it finally had a chance to get loose.<\/span><\/p>\n

He continued. \u201cI don\u2019t know how many of you have ever been somewhere and just <\/span>known<\/span><\/i> that you were in danger. Like the ancient animal part of you is screaming. That\u2019s what I felt then. A few seconds earlier I had been determined to brave anything, especially in front of Kari, but now I just wanted to get away. I started to run, as fast as I could. I thought Kari would follow me, but she didn\u2019t. She\u2019d frozen. I turned around and I screamed at her to follow me. To get out of there. But she wouldn\u2019t move.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDid you go back for her?\u201d Lewin asked. His lined face was full of concern, where everyone else was eager and curious. Willum loved him for that.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes. I ran back towards her. I was stumbling over roots and getting hit in the eyes by branches, but I was too frightened to care. I got to her just as <\/span>it<\/span><\/i> did.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He paused, waiting for someone to ask the question.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ivo obliged. \u201cWhat was <\/span>it?<\/span><\/i>\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum spread his old arms. \u201cA demon, or as close as. It was tall, like a human and it had ragged spiky wings, and a tail like a long chain with a scythe blade on the end. It had no hair, and massive teeth that couldn\u2019t fit in its mouth.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt leapt on Kari and bit her, and she started to scream and struggle. She stabbed it with her knife, but it just ignored the blade, and kept biting and scratching. I tried to stop it, and it hit me with its tail and knocked me back, cut a giant slice across my shoulder. I hit the back of my head and bit my tongue. Everything tasted of blood as I watched it kill Kari. She aged so fast, went grey, crumbled, and it got younger. Its skin got shiny, it grew hair on its head and feathers on its wings. Then it dropped what was left of Kari and turned on me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum ran a hand unconsciously over the old scar it had left on his shoulder as he went on. \u201cI ran as fast as I could, tripping and stumbling and pulling myself upright again. I ran back through the forest and into town where everyone seemed so old and I begged them to help me, but they wouldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDid they say \u2018told you so\u2019?\u201d asked Lina disapprovingly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThey didn\u2019t say anything.\u201d Willum answered distantly, \u201cThey just turned away.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI ran to the stable, mounted up and rode away. It couldn\u2019t ride, and-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI thought it had wings.\u201d said one of the adults, \u201cCouldn\u2019t it fly?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum shook his head. \u201cI don\u2019t think so. I think it just walks. But it never stops. I rode through the night and reached another village the next day. I slept for a few hours, then went on again. I was sure it was following me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWas it?\u201d asked Lewin.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes. For thirty years, every time I stopped somewhere for too long, it caught up with me. I always liked to move around, but after that I didn\u2019t have a choice. Eventually, I decided that there was one place it wouldn\u2019t dare follow me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He looked up at the bulky dark mass that was Kol,\u00a0 its dark body decorated with the little burning ghosts. \u201cIn the shadow of the god of death, I thought I would be safe.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHere?\u201d asked Tedric, his eyes big and wide as copper coins.<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum smiled down at him. \u201cYes, Teddy. There aren\u2019t that many mountains in the world with death gods on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Tedric frowned. \u201cHow many?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

His older brother prodded him. \u201cOnly one, stupid.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Tedric pulled a face.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo, you arrived here.\u201d Lewin prompted, pulling his son onto his lap.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes. I climbed the mountain in the middle of a night like this one and stumbled into the village.\u201d He looked around at the watching faces, bright with the reflection of the fire. \u201cAnd you took me in. Never even asked questions. About me, at least.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou were the first visitor we\u2019d had in years.\u201d Lewin mentioned.<\/span><\/p>\n

Willum looked up again at the ominous figure of Kol looming over their little village, and decided not to comment. \u201cYes. I couldn\u2019t work well at that point. I was already getting old, and I didn\u2019t have children to look after me. All I had was sixty years of stories-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cReally cool stories!\u201d Ivo corrected, and Willum smiled slightly.\u201cI\u2019m glad you think so. But it\u2019s not a particularly useful skill.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

One of the village\u2019s farmers, a large woman with huge brows, snorted. \u201cNot useful? I think you\u2019ll find having these little mites -\u201d she ruffled her daughter\u2019s hair \u201c- accounted for when we\u2019re working is extremely useful.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

There was a chorus of agreement from the rest of the crowd, but it only made Willum feel worse. \u201cYou don\u2019t understand.\u201d he tried, \u201cIt\u2019s here. And once it takes me, it will go after you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He looked pointedly at little Tedric, who was flopped in his father\u2019s arms.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHah.\u201d said the farmer, nodding towards Kol, \u201cI don\u2019t think He would like that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Of course, Willum mentally sighed, these people viewed Kol as their protector. Why would they fear some strange, unnamed beast when they had the god of death on their side? Willum didn\u2019t share their faith. His story over, he felt old again, and incredibly tired.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy now?\u201d Lewin asked abruptly, \u201cYou\u2019ve been here for years. Why would it risk Goulcrest now?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBecause it\u2019s desperate.\u201d Willum answered, \u201cIt\u2019s been decades since it ate Kari, and it\u2019s withered again. It\u2019s after me, and it will take me. I\u2019m hoping that if I go down from the mountain, I can lead it away from you before it gets me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou can barely walk.\u201d pointed out one of the village\u2019s teens, \u201cIt\u2019ll kill you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s an evil thing.\u201d Willum said quietly, \u201cAnd I brought it to your doorstep. I have to try.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He braced himself for an argument, but everyone had gone still. They were standing, staring up at the mountain. Willum turned slowly, expecting to see the demon behind him. Instead, reaching down with an enormous clawed hand, was Kol. The god moved like a glacier, painfully slowly, and Willum was frozen with awe. Once, the old man\u00a0 had seen a volcano erupt. He\u2019d been a long way away, but he\u2019d still been floored by the sheer power of it. This, he imagined, was what it must have felt like to be <\/span>on<\/span><\/i> the mountain at the time.<\/span><\/p>\n

The stony limb dug into the ground in front of him, and a head like a mountain of its own looked down at him from incredibly high. He stumbled forwards on shaking legs, grabbing at the craggy fingers with his hands, the injuries from his earlier fall wailing at him. He leant against it, feeling suddenly incredibly frail as he fought to drag himself onto it.<\/span><\/p>\n

He felt a touch on his shoulder and turned to see Lewin. Eyes averted from his beloved god, the stonemason held his arm and helped him clamber up. \u201cGoodbye.\u201d he whispered, and Willum\u2019s old heart nearly stopped.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kol lifted him higher and higher, and the air grew painfully thin. Collapsed on its stony palm and wheezing, Willum stared into an eye like a cliff-face, and trembled. The colossal head slowly, slowly bent forward in a nod, and the other great hand came up. One clawed finger reached forwards and touched Willum on the face. Ice surged into his skull, and he screamed, black blotches spilling over his vision.<\/span><\/p>\n

He lurched in and out of consciousness as Kol lowered him again, and tipped him out on the rugged ground.<\/span><\/p>\n

As the world swam back into place, he gripped the cold, craggy ground beneath him with bloodied hands, and dragged himself a little way forwards. He was on a small ledge, and he dragged his head out over it and looked down. His eyes were blurry, but he thought he could just see a dark figure down there, huge shapes over its shoulders. He took a hold on the edge, and his sinewy muscles screamed as he forced himself over it, and fell forwards.<\/span><\/p>\n

There was a rush of cold air, and then he hit the mountainside hard, a loose rock jabbing into his stomach. He rolled a little way down, bruising his old body still more, and then finally came up facing the sky. He stared at the ghosts blazing by above him \u2013 little flashes of light. His body ached, and his head thumped, and his blood was full of spikes, but those lights were beautiful. Would he burn that brightly? Had Kari? Or would their souls be destroyed by the thing that hunted him? The thing that, even now, he could hear approaching. The teen had been right; he couldn\u2019t lead it away. He could barely move.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m ready.\u201d he croaked, as a shadow blocked out the searing lights, \u201cI\u2019m not a-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Claws dug into his weathered skin, and he gasped, his last words lost. He felt his body starting to dry out, his skin cracking. It hurt less than he would have thought; the ice in his blood seemed to be leaving him and he shut his eyes, waiting for it to end.<\/span><\/p>\n

But something was wrong. The creature dropped him, and he opened his eyes again, dimly seeing it above him, screeching and thrashing. It fell beside him, its ragged wings shattering against the hard ground. Its long tail scythed around, and then it fell still. A fountain of fire erupted out of it, and Willum could just pick out individual shapes in the blaze. Was Kari there?<\/span><\/p>\n

He managed a last smile, and then closed his eyes again. Perhaps he would join her, and they would fly to Kol together.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

\r\n
\r\n

\"heart<\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

\r\n\r\n
\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\r\n\r\n \r\n
\r\n
\r\n

Eleanor Cooke is a neurodivergent eighteen-year-old, who loves writing, sewing, and her two cats. She also adores, but does not read, poetry.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

\r\n
\r\n\r\n \r\n
\r\n
\r\n

\"Eleanor<\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n ","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"inline_featured_image":false},"class_list":["post-1094","stories","type-stories","status-publish","hentry","fx-builder-entry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nOld Willum\u2019s Final Tale - Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"noindex, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Old Willum\u2019s Final Tale\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Even as his insides were twisted up with nerves, the storyteller in Willum noted that the atmosphere was perfect. The screaming ghosts scoring bright lines across the sky, the giant fire casting flickering shadows across the worried faces of the villagers. Any other night he\u2019d have been telling them about the abandoned cities in the northern forests where the Siyala people once lived, or about the rebellion he\u2019d joined in Synti, where they\u2019d won against a terrible ruler despite being outnumbered one to one hundred. But tonight was different.\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/coreopsisjournal\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2026-07-11T23:47:54+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/FINALimage0-scaled.jpeg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"2560\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"1978\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"19 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/stories\\\/old-willums-final-tale\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/stories\\\/old-willums-final-tale\\\/\",\"name\":\"Old Willum\u2019s Final Tale - Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/stories\\\/old-willums-final-tale\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/stories\\\/old-willums-final-tale\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/tnf.ola.mybluehost.me\\\/website_7ac3e820\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2025\\\/03\\\/FINALimage0-1024x791.jpeg\",\"datePublished\":\"2025-03-27T04:35:00+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2026-07-11T23:47:54+00:00\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/stories\\\/old-willums-final-tale\\\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/stories\\\/old-willums-final-tale\\\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/stories\\\/old-willums-final-tale\\\/#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/tnf.ola.mybluehost.me\\\/website_7ac3e820\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2025\\\/03\\\/FINALimage0-1024x791.jpeg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/tnf.ola.mybluehost.me\\\/website_7ac3e820\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2025\\\/03\\\/FINALimage0-1024x791.jpeg\"},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/stories\\\/old-willums-final-tale\\\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"Old Willum\u2019s Final Tale\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/\",\"name\":\"Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025\",\"description\":\"\",\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/#organization\"},\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Organization\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/#organization\",\"name\":\"Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/\",\"logo\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/logo\\\/image\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2025\\\/02\\\/image-e1742539386414.png\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2025\\\/02\\\/image-e1742539386414.png\",\"width\":300,\"height\":159,\"caption\":\"Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/societyforritualarts.com\\\/rw\\\/2025-spring\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/logo\\\/image\\\/\"},\"sameAs\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/www.facebook.com\\\/coreopsisjournal\",\"https:\\\/\\\/www.instagram.com\\\/coreopsisjournal\\\/\"]}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Old Willum\u2019s Final Tale - Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025","robots":{"index":"noindex","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"Old Willum\u2019s Final Tale","og_description":"Even as his insides were twisted up with nerves, the storyteller in Willum noted that the atmosphere was perfect. The screaming ghosts scoring bright lines across the sky, the giant fire casting flickering shadows across the worried faces of the villagers. Any other night he\u2019d have been telling them about the abandoned cities in the northern forests where the Siyala people once lived, or about the rebellion he\u2019d joined in Synti, where they\u2019d won against a terrible ruler despite being outnumbered one to one hundred. But tonight was different.","og_url":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/","og_site_name":"Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025","article_publisher":"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/coreopsisjournal","article_modified_time":"2026-07-11T23:47:54+00:00","og_image":[{"width":2560,"height":1978,"url":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/FINALimage0-scaled.jpeg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Est. reading time":"19 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/","url":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/","name":"Old Willum\u2019s Final Tale - Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/tnf.ola.mybluehost.me\/website_7ac3e820\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/FINALimage0-1024x791.jpeg","datePublished":"2025-03-27T04:35:00+00:00","dateModified":"2026-07-11T23:47:54+00:00","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/tnf.ola.mybluehost.me\/website_7ac3e820\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/FINALimage0-1024x791.jpeg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/tnf.ola.mybluehost.me\/website_7ac3e820\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/FINALimage0-1024x791.jpeg"},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/stories\/old-willums-final-tale\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"Old Willum\u2019s Final Tale"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/#website","url":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/","name":"Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025","description":"","publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/#organization"},"potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Organization","@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/#organization","name":"Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025","url":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/","logo":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/02\/image-e1742539386414.png","contentUrl":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/02\/image-e1742539386414.png","width":300,"height":159,"caption":"Roses & Wildflowers Spring 2025"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/"},"sameAs":["https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/coreopsisjournal","https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/coreopsisjournal\/"]}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/stories\/1094","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/stories"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/stories"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/societyforritualarts.com\/rw\/2025-spring\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1094"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}