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1829:

Edmond Dantes opened his eyes slowly to the feel of soft sheets and the slow rocking that was part and parcel of travel by boat. His eyes confirmed this. The sight of a shadowed cabin filled his vision.

He could have sworn he was dead, drowned in the stormy seas around the Chateau d'If, but it seemed he was still alive… barely, but still alive. But with the knowledge of one who has teetered on the edge of death for years, he knew that he would be dead in a few hours. Sighing hurt, but he did it nonetheless.

"That is a strange reaction from a lucky man such as yourself."

The voice seemed to come from nowhere. Blinking in surprise, Dantes was even more surprised when a person appeared after one of the shutterings of his eye.

Tall and imposing, he was dressed in the black evening clothes of a gentleman. A handsome, hawk-like face stared down at him with eyes that had an eerie, piercing quality to them. Taking a nearby stool, the man sat by his bedside. On the man's hand, a ring adorned with a strange jewel changed colors in the dim lamplight with hypnotic frequency.

"A lucky man, to have escaped the Chateau d'If—"

"Monsieur—"

"Hush, young man. I am aware that Chateau d'If is not exactly the prison for deserving fellows. And France, whether under a republic or a monarchy, has this tendency to wrongfully imprison people. I know of this Valjean fellow who can probably tell the same story as you. You will not be returning to that hellhole."

The man's smile reassured Dantes. He could only smile back ruefully.

"I think I will not be returning in any case, monsieur," Dantes said with regret in his voice.

"Yes, I think so too. Haidee told me that you were weakening and have but a few hours left. That is why I am here."

His incomprehension must have been evident as the man smiled.

"You are puzzled, my friend? Well, I would be puzzled, too, if I were in your place. But trust me, I am here to render you a service. People who are in need of my services have this tendency to find me. You could say the river of Fate always manages to drive them to me."

"So, the Devil has come for Edmond Dantes at last, it seems. Another misfortune piled upon my mountain of ill-luck," Dantes responded in jest, feeling put upon by arrogant man before him.

The man laughed. It was a laugh that made Dantes' soul tremble with its inherent power. Maybe this was the Devil after all. "No, Edmond Dantes. I am not the Devil, but I do have power in this world of the flesh. Enough to do a service to one such as you, without asking for his soul."

The dark man said this with such utter sincerity that Dantes could believe him. The man's eyes shone with the power of the will behind them and he knew he still had a chance for vengeance.

"Tell me your story then, Edmond Dantes. Better, tell us both. My sister and I will seek to assist you."

Edmond Dantes was so preoccupied with his host that he had noticed the entrance of the woman wearing an elegant black and white dress. Black hair that had strange greenish highlights framed a beautiful, exotic face. Reddish eyes peered down at him with the same power that the stranger before him had.

So there, in that dark cabin in a ship that he did not know, Edmond Dantes told his tale of injustice and his wish for vengeance to an audience of two.

As he finished his tale, Dantes felt a constriction in his chest. His time had come. Pleading eyes gazed up to the blazing eyes that were by his bedside. Their owner knew what Dantes wished for, and the dying man almost felt pity for Danglars and compatriots, a feeling he quickly squashed. He tried to speak.

"Your… name, monsieur… I would… know your—"

"I have had many and will have many more. But for this moment, I am the Count of Monte Cristo."

"The Count… of Monte Cristo," Dante breathed.

"Yes, and for you I will be the angel of vengeance. Know, Edmond Dantes, that in this uncaring world there are still men who believe in justice, that righteous men will be avenged and evil will suffer punishment. This I swear by the King I once served and the Queen who is to come. The Count of Monte Cristo will bring your vengeance."

"I thank… you. But two last… favors, monsieur." Speaking hurt, but he managed to say more.

"Anything, Edmond Dantes."

"Monsieur Morell… see him and… do right by him."

"That will be done."

"And… take my name. Be… Edmond Dantes and… bring vengeance in… my name." It was getting cold. So cold.

"I promise. In your name, Edmond Dantes, in your name."

"Then… God bless you, monsieur."

With that, his final sight that of the blazing eyes of his host, Edmond Dantes closed his eyes and commended himself to the light.

Author's notes: Another vignette, another epoch. The terrible siblings are messing around with the French again. ^_^

Anyway, this was inspired by Jean Marc L'officier's French Wold Newton article that Edmond Dantes could not be the Count of Monte Cristo from his website "Cool French Comics". Google it for more French coolness.

BTW, to those familiar with the novel, I have made the modification that Dantes knew most of the story behind his imprisonment. That is explained via the simple expedient of fourteen years of concentration on the problem, and the proposition that meditating on a problem for that long would inevitably solve it.

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Last revision: May 21, 2007