Shadow Walker

Started: 1998ish

Ended: Who knows?

That's really, really sad. With that time frame in mind, beware that it may be a month to several until I bother adding new chapters.

God bless the public school system! (Translation: I'm 100% athiest! Please excuse spelling and grammatical errors)

I do not own Nintendo or have any affiliation with them blah blah blah copyrighted characters used without permission blah blah blah may be unsuitable for children (I mean, c'mon, after all the country is named after beer). If your mommy and daddy find out that you've added a few more words into your daily vocabulary that aren't exactly…er, age appropriate, it ain't my fault, I gave you fair warning. Comments are welcome, send 'em to A_R_S@prodigy.net if ya don't mind (or just add a handy little review.

Happy reading and don't try too hard.

***

This is how I was betrayed by destiny.

Rain splattered the cobblestone drives of Verendez, a crowded metropolis almost completely consisting of town houses, apartments, stables and a large market at the very core. The people were soaked to the bone by this down pore that robbed the steamy, mid-spring afternoon of its sunlight. As I walked through the Village Square, I saw a great deal of things, hardly any of them good. The homeless and their children lined the walls, squatting in filth in their mismatching rags. The pleaded in vain for a few coins when ever the rare soldier, knight or anyone well-to-do passed; who paid no more attention then they would a fly that zipped past their ear. The children cried out because of the sharp pangs of hunger while a mother tried to soothe them, even though they were racked with pain as well. The only ones that seemed to fair well were the prostitutes that stood in the doorways to some of the inns. There were a few stands opened, they sold spoiled meat and stale bread at prices that were no less then murderous. It was like this in almost every city of Guinness. One must wonder how the country had managed to survive through seventeen years of depression.

I was dressed in a simple felt, black tunic and gray leggings, both torn, heavily patched, several sizes too large and soaked all the way though. Over them, I wore a black, travel- worn coat that ended at the tops of my tattered boots and had a hood that kept my face shadowed. I also had a leather shoulder bag, in which I kept everything I owned, which wasn't much. For I was just as poor as anyone else and--because the abbey had stopped handing out meager portions of food --equally famished. But whereas most would just starve to death, I had other ways of surviving.

I immediately saw my target: a sleepy merchant not paying enough attention to his potato bread. The man scanned the crowd for potential customers. This as the sort of thing I thrived on.

As I walked by, I slid one of the loaves up my baggy sleeve in one liquid, flawless movement. I continued to walk on down the street, thinking myself victorious, but the clerk must have done a quick inventory check…

"Guards! A thief!" He yelled. Immediately, A few of the weary "royal" guards looked up from their rain drenched posts. They were stationed all around the village square, surrounding it and blocking all of the entrances. But I was all too familiar with the thievery trade, I knew how to deal with this situation: Run!

I dodged between two slow-looking guards and ran flat-out down the drive, darting in and out of the crowds, trying to lose them. No such luck, they were like a team of disciplined hunting dogs. Some of the beggars cheered as I flew past.

But from out of nowhere, another guard stepped right in my path and grabbed me roughly by the arm.

"And where do you think you're going?" he sneered. But I wasn't exactly helpless ether. I drew the knife from my belt and stabbed him in the thigh, severing an artery. He screamed and recoiled, releasing me from his grasp. I recovered my speed and was quickly on my way, the buildings thinning out into the fields of the serfs. But still they pursued! Not for long. I headed into the woods and hid behind a tree. I heard the guards halt at once.

"Whoa, we're not actually going to go in to the Black Forest, are we?" Asked one, sounding concerned.

"No, no…there would be no point in that, it's getting late. Besides, he won't be coming out alive anyway." Remarked another, obviously not giving a damn whether the job got done or not. "Let's go to the tavern and kick back a few."

"Aye."

"Sounds good."

"Whatever."

I listened to them slosh up back to the town until their trampling footsteps died away. I collapsed against the tree, breathing hard. All of this over bread! If I had been caught, I would have been hung or had wild dogs sent up against me in public at a fair, for entertainment, not something to be looked forward to.

I looked around me. Unlike my fellow countrymen, I had no fear of the Black Forest; I actually found it almost enchanting. I liked the way that the silvery mist drifted around the gnarled, dark trees. The whole place seemed mysterious and forbidding. At least the rain was filtered through the leaves and blocked most of the rain. There were myths of demons and dragons living deep within the forest, but myths were all that they were. There were packs of wolfos, but they had moved on years before when livestock around the area became scarce. As far as I knew, there was nothing to even remotely fear in the Black Forest.

Taking the bread from my sleeve, I found that now it was slightly damp. I didn't care; I was hungry enough to eat the leather off my boots. I ripped off a hunk with my teeth and chewed it noisily. It tasted sweet and warm, not stale and hard which was what I was accustomed to. I would have eaten it all but stopped half way. I was never sure when my next meal was going to be so sometimes I hoarded food. Regretfully, I stowed away what remained in my bag.

Suddenly, there was a loud clank of metal behind me, I nearly wet myself. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with a large--no, huge iron monster. I took a few steps back in surprise and feared for my life. But that all changed when I realized what it was. It was not a monster at all, but a horse clad in heavy armor of polished steel, no rider. It was a black stallion; the armor suggested that he belonged to a knight or someone of similar status. The horse simply looked at me, as if to ask what the problem was. Its eyes were strange, a sort of cobalt blue color, and they seemed to see right into my soul. I stood there for a minute, wondering what to do. I would have probably been rewarded if I had returned him to his master.

I cautiously came back to the horse's saddle; there was a sword strapped to the side. I untied the shoulder strap and held the sword in its scabbard. I marveled at the lightness of the broad sword. Without even thinking about it, I drew the sword out, dropping the scabbard to the grass. It was a beautiful thing, it seemed to be unused, no rust or stains.

There was an odd round disk of what seemed to be onyx with a bluish flaw in it where the hilt met the blade. The swirls of blue seemed to form a symbol that I had never seen before; it appeared to be some sort of rune.

I admired it for a few seconds then took it by the handle and made a clumsy swipe through the air. There was no way I was going to give this thing back or even sell it, it gave me a feeling of power when I wheedled it. Somehow, I felt more confident when the steel rested in the palm of my hand. I really didn't have a use for a sword; I didn't know how to use it and had no desire to do so before. I guess I will now…

I replaced the fine piece of steel in its scabbard and then returned my attention back to the horse. I fiddled with a few straps, messed around with a few buckles and with a bit of effort, soon the crupper (hind piece) slipped off with another clank. Next was the flank plate that was under the saddle then the breastplate, the neckpiece and the headpiece. I realized soon that the horse was as beautiful as the sword. His flanks were glossy and the legs were slender and clean. The horse had a distinctive and refined head. This stallion was not the typical war-horse but a finely made animal built for speed and endurance rather then to be rode into battle. I was no expert, but I knew this breed was not from around the area. I stepped to the head and held out my hand. The five-year-old lowered his head and stretched his nose forward in response. The large, intelligent blue eyes seemed to signal acceptance as I touched his face. More at ease, I stroked the velvet-like skin of his nose.

"You're more of a baby then a monster, aren't you?" I said, chuckling to myself. The stallion nicked. I reached back down to my shoulder bag and fished out the potato bread. I held it out for him, which he ate greedily. I looked him over a bit more carefully; there were small cuts on his shoulders, belly, neck, hindquarters and legs. Whip marks, someone had been abusing him, some of the cuts were still fresh and looked as if they had dried recently. "And I thought I had it rough," I muttered.

I was faced with a tough decision. I certainly couldn't return him to his master, who would surely beat him again. But I couldn't keep him for myself. Sure, I knew how to ride bareback and take care of a horse (I had worked in a stable for a year before the owner decided to fire me. Bastard.), but keeping him meant money, something I didn't have. He dropped to the ground and rolled on his back, happy to be free of his heavy armor, saddle and bridal. I wondered how long he had been wandering around in the forest. I decided to leave him and hope he'd find his way to someone that knew how to properly handle a horse, and had the money to keep him. I strapped the scabbard to my belt and started to walk away, beginning my search for an ideal place to spend the night. The stallion got up and started to follow me, like an overgrown dog. I turned around.

"Go on! Go away. Find someone else, someone who can take care of you!" I said loudly, my voice projecting off the trees. The horse looked at me as if to say he would do no such thing. I threw up my hands. "All right, fine. You can stay with me for now but in the morning I'm finding you an owner."

I walked over to a tree and sat down against it. I wrapped my arms around myself and drew my knees up to my chest. Damn it's cold! I shivered as the hair on my arms rose up. But the horse found a solution. He lay down beside me, offering me his flank. Reluctantly, I leaned against it. He was warm soft and had a nice aroma to him. I soon found myself curled up with his head resting on my back and drifting off to sleep as the sun's light faded completely.