Chapter Text
After finishing a fruitless hunt, Arthur decides to camp there and, in the morning, he will try again. The animals seem to disappear when he intends to hunt; if he were doing some work for Dutch or looking for a fugitive, there would be packs of them. The horse neighs and stomps furiously on the ground. Arthur draws his pistol, listening to the noises around him. Everything is silent, a deadly silence.
In the distance, Arthur sees something white moving. Since the moon is bright, he soon realizes that it is a group of women, strange women dressed as brides. The air gets cold, they get closer and closer. He looks at the campfire, diverting his attention from that group of ghostly women. It is not that he is afraid of ghosts or believes in them, but to avoid confronting things from the beyond, he prefers to pretend to be blind.
It gets even colder, so much so that Arthur's jaw cracks. The group of women stops on the other side of the campfire, he keeps his eyes fixed on the fire.
"Are you Arthur Morgan?" a plaintive voice asks.
"Who wants to know?" Arthur asks, rubbing his hands together.
"A helpless woman in need of help."
Arthur looks away from the fire, looking at the woman who is speaking. Her face is pale, even a little bluish; from what Arthur can see, she was a great beauty before she died. Her dress is impeccable, except for the red stain right at her heart. The other women are a few steps behind, their faces covered by veils, all standing still, staring at Arthur.
"How can this sniper be of any use?" He decides to remain modest, since none of his weapons are capable of killing someone who is already dead.
"One of our graves has been desecrated. An engagement ring, stolen."
"Do you want me to get it back?"
"Yes." The woman takes her own engagement ring off her finger, walks around the fire, and hands the ring to Arthur: "I'll show you the way."
"Right. And where should I deliver the stolen ring?"
"You'll know the way."
"What do you mean..." Before Arthur can say anything else, they've all disappeared. He gets up and quickly breaks camp. Mounting his horse, he sets off aimlessly.
Hours pass and, at dawn, Arthur sees another group of women, but this time they're alive and are going to wash their clothes in the river. They're talking and laughing. When they notice Arthur, they go silent and look at him suspiciously. He doesn't care about their appearance and starts looking at each of their hands. He gets off his horse and approaches them. The women huddle together like a flock of frightened chicks.
"Be careful, I'm the police chief's wife!" says one of them. Arthur looks at her without arguing, but finds it unlikely that a small village like that would have a police chief.
"I'm just looking for one thing."
"And what would that be?" Another question.
Arthur thinks for a moment. If he says it was sent by ghosts, the women will think he’s crazy and start a scene. He clears his throat and makes up an excuse: “My late cousin’s ring was stolen. I was told the thief came here.”
“There’s no—”
“I knew it!” A young woman covered in freckles interrupts the older woman. She steps out of the group and looks at Arthur. “I apologize.” She takes a plain ring off her finger and places it in Arthur’s hand. “I knew he lied to me. He doesn’t even have enough money to buy a pair of socks. I was stupid to believe he bought that ring the right way.” She bows to Arthur. “I apologize, sir, for putting on something that belonged to your late relative.”
Arthur is surprised at how easily he retrieved the engagement ring. Normally, he has to use good old-fashioned gun persuasion. “Well, girls, I appreciate your cooperation. Have a good day.” He takes off his hat to greet them and gets back on his horse. Returns to the place where he saw the brides. The sun is at its highest point in the sky, they probably only appeared at dusk. But he is in no hurry, he sets up the tent and lights a fire. Two sparrows and a can of beans make a good lunch, although not the best.
Right after lunch, Arthur takes out his journal and draws Raven, his shire mare grazing. Hosea told him to sell her some time ago, but her appearance and beauty enchanted him, so he decided to keep her. On the next page, he draws the leader of the group of ghost brides and writes below: "We should fear the living and not the dead. But the dead can be really scary."
Time passes slowly, Arthur walks around the surroundings, brushes Raven, cleans his weapons, sees a fox on top of a rock, birds flying, some butterflies. Enjoying nature, life seems simple - even beautiful. But reality is very different from this moment of peace.
Arthur lies down, his hands behind his head, staring up at the stars, thinking about how insignificant he is compared to the grandeur of the sky. He means nothing, his actions mean nothing, and yet they mean everything. The world is not divided between good and evil, but between those who have power and those who are afraid.
“Are you afraid, Arthur Morgan?” The voice comes out of nowhere, startling him.
Arthur sits up quickly. The woman in front of him is a stark contrast to the one from the night before. Her hair is loose, her skin is rosy, her red dress with a bodice adorned with black floral details and rubies, her voice that sounded so melodious and seductive. This way, she seems even more dangerous, somehow, more voracious.
Finding his pockets and standing up, he takes out the two rings and hands them to the woman.
“Good job.” The woman places both on her fingers. “Are you afraid, Arthur Morgan?” she asks again.
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
"Of death," Arthur answers, without thinking much, half hypnotized by the woman.
"You shouldn't be afraid of death. There is no difficulty in dying, unlike life, which presents countless difficulties." The woman holds Arthur's face.
He looks into those lifeless eyes: "I don't want to die, I want to live without fear."
"What do you want from life?"
"I want to have a prosperous life."
"Prosperous?" She looks at Arthur with malice: "Very well. May you receive the blessing of prosperity." She lets go of Arthur's face, takes one of the rubies from the dress and hands it to him: "Your payment."