Quoth the Raven

[heartbeaker]

A H H H . . .

What foolish human has awakened me? Still, you may be of further use.

A heart! Bring me a heart - and perhaps I will not devour yours.

Comments

[knightoftheswan]

[The Knight is true to the reputation he earned in Heinrich's kingdom. Every crow that dares challenge him is met with brutal and lethal force. Each strike brings him back to that awful night, each blow another attempt to hold back the cruel dawn.

In this moment, he is not Sir Lohengrin, Prince Siegfried's Knight.

He is the Knight of the Swan, Lady Elsa's Champion.]

[heartbeaker]

[With every crow the Knight struck down, another emerges to take its place. The fight is fierce. The flock circles him even as they are cut over and over, and crows rise from the ground, hoping to take hold of his feet.]

[knightoftheswan]

[He wants them to keep coming. He wants them to never stop. He wants to keep fighting and never leave this moment, lest he be parted from his Elsa again. The very idea of stopping leaves his left hand itching right where his wedding band sits.

The Knight of the Swan is completely ruthless as he shoves his foot into a crow's face, propelling himself forward and further into the fray.]

[heartbeaker]

[The crows cry out as they are rendered to pieces and left to disappear. The numbers are sparser now, though still strong. Five crows flank each other as they rush at him like an arrow.

(Oh my, what's this? says someone, somewhere. Will a Knight who has lost so much also lose what he has left?)]

Fight, my crows, until his strength is stolen.

[knightoftheswan]

[Somehow in the midst of combat, the Knight begins to laugh.]

Yes! Take my strength! Accept my vengeance! And if you should win, know that you only succeed in reuniting me with my Elsa!

[heartbeaker]

[In the face of his fearless declaration, the Raven roars. A heavy claw comes crashing out from the darkness, aiming straight for the Knight.]

[knightoftheswan]

[And Lohengrin merely stands before him with a smile.]

[heartbeaker]

[The Raven strikes. His claw tears through the Knight.]

[knightoftheswan]

[Naught remains but stillness.

But then there's the quiet sound of a tenor.]

The sweet song dies away; we are alone,
alone for the first time since we saw each other.
Now we can be remote from the world,
no listener near our hearts' avowals.
Elsa, my wife! Sweetest, purest bride!
Confide to me now whether you are happy!

[It looks like there's a spirit going to meet his wife.]

(Bravo! A wonderful tragedy this has been!)

[heartbeaker]

[Life flees and the spirit flies, as do the crows as they cry. The deed done, the Raven moves on, and what is left of the stage that had been set goes dark.]