Manga series: Record of Fallen Vampire
Prompt: #29 village
Timeline: pre-manga
Pairing: none
Words count: (approx.) 1202
Warning: an OC but she just an observer, she's of no consequence
The flowers listed are fictional, except the blue-bells.
Rating: K+ - T
Childern frolicked happily in the sunlight, enjoying summer holiday to the fullest. They skipped stones on the small lake, played catch, the girls jumped rope, or played house, boys chased after a leather soccerball, and some older boys swam in the warm water. Smaller children of every age built castles or dug tunnels in a sandy area, or simply drew pictures with sticks only to wipe them away and start again, while their grand-mothers chatted a bit farther under the shade of the trees.
A couple of girls decided to pick flowers so they could decorate their 'castle'. One of the girls went deeper into the forest then the rest, she knew a good spot where lots of little white and yellow flowers grew, they were like small stars and they would be just perfect. On the way she picked other flowers she found: sad blue-bells, creamy angel-tears and purple weeping-belladonnas. Soon, she found what she was looking for and she left the forest trail to gather the most beautiful ones into her apron.
As she was humming a small song, she heard foot-steps and the bushes rustled on the path she just left, there was someone crossing the forest straight towards the village. She straightened and turned towards the noise, when a figure appeared among the trees.
The person looked like a white knight from a fairytale, he wore a flowing white cape, gleaming armour and a helmet. His clothes were accented with red patterns and he carried a staff shaped like a cross, the charms on it jingled softly as he walked. He noticed the gapping girl and turned to her, only his mouth could be seen from his face, the rest was shielded by the helmet.
"Good afternoon, little daughter. Are you lost?" the voice was soft and kind.
The girl shook her head quickly. "No, I was just picking some good flowers, Sir."
"I see. Then can you tell me if I am on the right path to Loch Village?"
"Yes, it's just beyond the trees, Sir. I can show you if you want to."
"I thank your kindness, I'm sure you parents are already worried about you."
The girl blushed sligthly, it was true that she didn't tell her grand-mother about her little excursion. She picked up some of the flowers that fell when she stood, then she stepped on the path and turned to the knight.
"It's that way," she pointed.
As the girl and the knigth neared the clearing, they heard a call from up ahead.
"Christine!" the voice sounded worried.
"I'm here, Granny!" the girl called back.
A wrinkled old face appeared at the edge of the trees, the forehead creased with worry.
"Christine, don't do this to me! You almost gave me heart attack, where have you been…" her old voice trailed off as she caught sight of the white figure following her grand-child.
"Good afternoon," the knight greeted. "Am I in Loch Village?"
"Yes, it's just ahead, sir."
"I met your grand-child in the forest and she was kind enough to show me the way… also I was afraid that someone was looking for her." He added, "I need to speak to the village headman."
"Of course, sir. I'll show you where you can find him right away." The old lady examined Christine closely and tutted as she saw some grass staines. "Come on Crissy, let's go home, you gave me enough fright for today."
"But the flowers will die…" Christine whined.
"You can give them to your mother. She'll be happy, and you can pick new ones tomorrow Just tell me before you go off." She assured as they walked towards the village, then she addressed the white knight who followed silently. "By the way, what's your name, sir? And why did you come to this out of way place."
"My name is Infinite Cross Saberhagen," the knight didn't pause when he heard the sharp intake of breath. "And I came because of the Moonlight of Corrosion Incident."
"O-of course, Lord Saberhagen." They picked up pace as they hurried on.
Christine didn't understand why her grand-mother's grasp tightened suddenly, and later she didn't understand why they went straight to the village headman. There she had to stay outside while the knight spoke to the leader. Soon the news about the mysterious guest spread. The children were herded home and later all of the adults gathered in a meeting. Christine was taken home by her mother and quickly tucked into bed. But all the excitement didn't let Christine rest, she listened as her parents discussed something about a monument, danger and a man. She didn't remember when she fell asleep.
By the next afternoon only a strange cross shaped monument was left to remind people of the white knight.
Time passed. Christine grew up, as did all the other children, she married and with time she became a mother and a grand-mother herself. The village also grew until it became a small town, people were born, died, they came and went. Christine always lived near the monument and one day, when her old bones troubled her during night she got up to sit next to the front window with a cup of tea.
She could see the cross clearly from her spot and remembered that summer day long ago. She learned the legend of why it was put up, but it was only legend at best. Although, she always thought that a lover searching the world, wanting to free his love from a curse was romantic, she never really believed it to be true.
She squinted when out of nowhere a man appeared near the cross, the man turned towards the street as if waiting for something. He was dressed in all black and carried a sword, the swordman perked up when a shadow matiralized in the night. It was another man, in a flowing black cape, it reminded Christine of the knight she met 70 years ago. They seemed to speak for a while, the swordman gesturing wildly, then fast as lightning he struck. The man in the cape fought back easily, some sort of energy crackled around his arm as he parried. The fight was over as fast as it started, when a big ball of power struck the swordman and completely obliterated him.
Christine grasped the window-sill, watching with batted breath, she had half the mind to blame the tea… she must have made it too strong.
The black-caped man walked up to the monument and summoned a giant scythe in his arm, then slashed at the stone, which crumbled with a sound like thunder in a flash of light. The figure's shoulders sagged as if in disappointment, he walked off steadily, disappearing into the night as silently as he came.
Christine sat back into her chair heavily and suddenly felt very old.
In the morning the remains of the monument were still there, as a testament to what happened. Christine was sad that the cross was destroyed, and she was angry when the town decided not to rebuild it again, but she never told anyone what she saw.
Legends always have a grain of truth in them.
A/N:
I use Sir and sir, because for Christine a 'knight' is much more important, like a fairytale come ture.
I like Saberhagen a lot, and I know she's not a he.
