How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 202 - R.I.P My Friend (1)
202: R.I.P My Friend (1)
202: R.I.P My Friend (1)
“I had a strange dream last night.”
“A strange dream?
What was it about?”
“…A dream where I died.”
At those words, Margaret closed her mouth, and the Queen gazed at the ceiling with weary eyes.
The Queen was now a 72-year-old woman.
“Since that dream, I’ve had a strange feeling.
As if I’m not…
really alive.”
“Don’t say such things.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.
It’s just…
I feel like I’m living far beyond the age I was supposed to live…”
“…”
“…Does that sound strange too?”
“…Yes.”
At Margaret’s response, Elizabeth, who was destined to die about two years ago, gives a bitter smile.
In her dream, she was laid in a lead coffin.
Horses draped in black velvet carried her coffin, and atop it stood a wax effigy recreating her appearance in life.
The crowd who saw the effigy wept more sorrowfully.
In the procession that followed, Raleigh led the royal guard, holding halberds upside down in mourning for her death.
He too shed tears.
And in some alleyways, someone couldn’t suppress their laughter and raised a toast.
Catholic followers and radical Puritans who were killed and oppressed during the Queen’s reign…
all those many people.
And when the Queen’s coffin was finally interred in Westminster Abbey.
Suddenly, a hand of flame stretched toward her coffin.
While no one saw it, the wax effigy placed on the coffin melted, and the lead coffin distorted.
Throughout the entire process of people sprinkling soil and laying flowers, the Queen’s body was engulfed in flames.
Her soul screamed, but no one heard.
Finally, Walter Raleigh approached her with flowers in hand.
And he too, with sad eyes, simply passed by her.
No one.
No one could save her.
And so she…
“…”
As the Queen’s hand began to tremble, Margaret, noticing the change, hastily grasped her hand.
The trembling soon stopped, and when Margaret tried to withdraw her hand, the Queen instead firmly gripped the saint’s hand. frёewebηovel.cѳm
“…Don’t let go.”
“…”
“I…
don’t want to die.”
“…”
“Seeing how reluctant I am to go to the Lord, I’ll probably go to hell.”
“No.
The Lord will surely be waiting for you.”
“Those words.”
The Queen looks at Margaret with a cold gaze.
“…Can you guarantee that?
In God’s name?”
“…”
“Don’t act too much like a real saint…”
As the Queen relaxed her grip, Margaret’s hand slipped free.
Even if she hadn’t relaxed her grip, Margaret could have easily withdrawn her hand.
“You’re making me…
hope unnecessarily…”
Now the Queen was old.
The strength in her hands was barely enough to hold onto anything.
“…”
She sighed and quietly looked out the window.
Roanoke Island was boring.
If asked whether she wanted to die here, it seemed the answer was no.
“Is there a ship over there?”
“What?”
“My limbs are aching.
I should go back to Chesapeake after a long time.”
“B-but, first we should get permission from N…
I mean, the Emperor…”
“I want to go.
We’ll talk about it later.”
“…”
“…Won’t you allow it?”
Though troubled, Margaret looked into the Queen’s eyes, deep with some emotion, and found she couldn’t refuse, so she bowed her head.
Because she was an elderly woman living close to death.
It would be fine to grant her request just this once.
That’s what Margaret thought.
Meanwhile, she wasn’t the only European person in Chesapeake awaiting death.
Europeans who crossed the sea to come here mostly weren’t older than their 20s to 40s.
Crossing the sea in an elderly body was something only someone as bold as Elizabeth could do.
Most were like that.
“Huh…
huh…
huk…”
“Dad?
Are you…
alright?”
“Eleanor…
huk, kuh…”
“Dad!
I’m sorry.
I shouldn’t have made you come out…”
“It’s…
alright, dear.
I was the one who said I wanted to come out.
I just got something stuck in my throat for a moment.
Just…
just…”
Except for one person.
“I’m…
fine, dear.
I’m fine.
Don’t worry.”
John White comforted his daughter and sat down briefly on a nearby rock.
Perhaps it was foolish to try to come all the way to Chesapeake with a body that could barely move.
“There’s nothing, to worry about…”
As he said this, John White looked up at the sky and unconsciously closed his eyes against the blazing sunlight.
Silence was approaching beyond his eyelids.
John White hurriedly opened his eyes without realizing it.
He was afraid of that silence.
Afraid of the approaching darkness.
Oh, my goodness, Lord.
How short is the time granted to humans?
“…”
White inadvertently dozed off while sitting due to fatigue.
His daughter and others moved him to a nearby lodging as he drifted between sleep and wakefulness.
Then Eleanor contacted all the other apostles.
To gather immediately on the shores of Chesapeake.
To the holy land where the cathedral was being built.
And so ships rose from various parts of the community’s territory and reached Chesapeake again.
People gathered.
And.
“It’s been a while…
So where will I be staying this time?
The lodging next to the cathedral, perhaps?”
“What?
Ah, probably so?
I’ll call for a carriage, so please wait.”
“…No.
Let’s not make a fuss.
Let’s just move, the two of us.”
The Queen also arrived at Chesapeake.
==
White opened his eyes, then closed them again.
He moved his body, then laid back down.
Days passed like the wind.
Each moment scattered quickly like grains of sand blown by that wind.
As he opened his eyes, recalling the sparse memories…
“Dad!”
“…Ah.”
“Are you awake?
How are you feeling?”
“…”
He realized.
My daughter, my Eleanor.
Looking around, he saw his granddaughter, the apostles, and many other connections.
They had all brought him to a room in a corner of the still-under-construction cathedral and were waiting.
Why am I here?
I said I wanted to come.
Although it was still just a building under construction, I wanted to see the sight of this place.
Why are the others here?
It’s because my daughter called them.
Then why did my daughter call them?
“…”
Because she thought I was going to die.
White gently raised his neck to look down at his body.
He saw a skeletal body splayed out carelessly like a haphazardly built hut.
He kept feeling his eyes closing.
With each blink, the clock on the wall showed time passing by 10 minutes, 30 minutes continuously.
It wasn’t far off.
“Ugh…
uuugh…”
I must be composed.
A true Christian should be composed in the face of approaching death.
“Uuugh…”
