Darkness

-A Legend Fanfic-

*Written by Gale*

A/N Please Read - Now we're finally getting moving. This is where our canon characters from the beginning start to show up again. For the record, no, I don't like writing Blix. Writing in verse is a pain in the ass. So if his dialogue sounds stupid, it's his fault for having such a crappy gimmick, not mine. Once more, no beta. So don't mind the mistakes.

II - The Task At Hand

Lidene did not sleep the rest of the night through; although, as the first bits of dawn crept under the door, and each aching muscle in her body screamed from many hours knelt at the side of her grandmother's cold, still form, it became clear to her that she should have. Part of her clung in sorrow to her dearest and only friend, but the other part, the one that heeded grandmother Medefey's warning not to grieve too long, had been afraid she would sleep past dawn and miss her chance to leave for the valley. Her blue eyes were heavy with a combination of stupor and lonely tears. The walls of her throat itched from too much time spent with sobs shaking within them.

Craving water, and hoping it might wash her exhaustion away with the tears and everything else, she finally let go of her grandmother's worn and lifeless hand and strode sluggishly to the door. Its already awkward and stubborn shape put up more of a fight this morning, as being both tired and pained sapped most of her strength away. Her ever-fretting and nitpicking logic reminded her that if she were really so enervated, then she really had no hope of moving the body. Determined to ignore that for the moment, however, she shook the troubling thought away and, once out of doors, utilized the luxuries of the stream that ran along the east side of the hut.

The water was still crisp with the early morning, just the thing Lidene needed to wake herself up. Hours of sweat and lamentation dripped away from her face in cold, comforting droplets of moisture, enough that when she stopped herself, had washed herself clean and taken her fill to drink, she almost felt as though Medefey had not passed in the night at all, that she was merely resting, and would wake when the sun drew closer to its zenith in the sky. Again, almost.

After composing herself yet again, Lidene returned to the hut, dressed, and set to straightening and wrapping her grandmother's body in the blanket she'd been sleeping under. It was no small nor simple task, as it would not be for anyone preparing the corpse of a loved one for burial.

Before shrouding Medefey's face, however, Lidene answered a nostalgic, dutiful whim of hers and struck out once again, this time to pick a few flowers growing close by. Each she came to and took, she knelt beforehand and whispered a word of thanks. On any other day, the sentiment would have come out empty and neutral, merely a ritual Lidene had known so long that she could go through the motions of it then give it hardly a thought afterwards. However, since the flowers served a more symbolic task that day, she stopped for the first time, remembered that these voiceless creatures were giving up their beauty for Medefey's, and in turn she truly felt grateful when she spoke to them. She'd been lucky to find any, after all, with the fall coming on.

Finding the few she could to be worthy of her cause, she settled herself to the task of stringing them into her grandmother's hair, drawing off the few dead blooms that still remained in her tangled tresses. She attempted to hum their old lullaby, like she had so many times before when fixing her hair, but the need to hear her guardian and teacher's voice mingle with hers was, like many things this morning, too much for her, and she had to silence herself.

She very well might have broken down again had a familiar, dreadful and impatient noise not shaken her out of it and brought her mindset back to the task at hand. Pleased to feel any other emotion save sorrow, even if it was irritation, Lidene rose once more and went seeking the din's source, and surely enough, as though he had come into existence there, the bane of her existence, Lysander, her father's old horse, paced about near the garden. The common need to shout at him in order to discourage him from their greens rose up in her, but soon died down when she noted that he was not foraging for food so much as watching and waiting for her. The cart she'd been directed toward the night before lay near him, beset on all sides by wild grass and weeds after so many years of neglect.

It was not above Lidene's thinking to imagine that Lysander knew what had transpired in the last day. Old, grumpy and unmanageable as he might have been, he had never been stupid in her eyes.

Lysander was as close to a wild horse as one could get. Technically, yes, he was her father's horse. However, since her father had been up to her family's own tastes, the animal had never been tethered and had been ridden only when his keeper was still alive, and only with his permission. None of the wise-women in their family line had believed in breaking animals to do chores that any human being could do on their own; traveling was one of those chores. The only other time Lidene had seen Lysander put to work was, of course, on journeys such as the one coming up -- to carry a body to the valley. Lidene knew the old stallion knew he would be taking on a similar charge today.

Of course, she did not allow that to overshadow the fact that he'd taken it upon himself to disappear for a few days, like he tended to now and again when the weather gave way to the chilly autumn.

"So you decide to come back now!" she scolded, feeling no dread when raising her voice. There was a whole garden between them, so she had little to fear. "Useless bag of bones, what good are you?"

Lysander whickered and trotted a ring about the cart.

"Yes, yes, I know!" Lidene found herself snapping as she gathered her skirt up and stomped over to him. "Sure you're not too old for the job?" she teased.

Yes, he was ancient, but huge in comparison to most common breeds of horses. The cart had been child's play for him when he was young and spirited. Lidene doubted he would have too much trouble even now, and an indignant sputter from him was all she needed in order to know he felt the same way.

Her expression softened as she fished a rope out of the cart and began securing him. Lysander shifted and sidled warily, and she could hardly blame him. She was doing the same thing, for entirely different reasons, of course. "You know you're all I have anymore, you old mule," she murmured, finishing a final knot before coming up in front of him. "And I promise I won't make you do this ever again, but you're going to have to cooperate with me for once in your life." Without really thinking about it, she reached out and patted his muzzle, only realizing what she'd done when Lysander shook his head at her.

Hesitantly, Lidene wandered back and gave him a short pat on the backside to get him going. She strode along at his side, guiding him back around to the front of the hut, and left him to retrieve her grandmother. A sad smile and a kiss on the forehead were her last gifts to the old woman before she covered her face and carried (translation: dragged) her still form out to the cart.

It was mid-morning by the time she'd settled the body properly and gathered some simple supplies to take on the trip. All of these were things she carried herself, not wishing to burden Lysander any further by placing them on the cart. The lot of them were not particularly heavy, which therefore told her that if she had no trouble, then there was no reason she should not carry them herself.

Once noon came and went, the terrain gradually became less familiar and certainly less welcoming. They pressed on, Lysander with the cart and complaining very little, Lidene with her sack of supplies, walking alongside him. In truth, she'd left her home with every intent in not stopping until they reached their destination. However, real life hardly ever worked like that, and her better judgment eventually took over and convinced her to stop for lunch. Any further without a break and she felt sure Lysander would have been the one to halt, and he was more than grateful to stop for a drink and a graze.

Lidene took pity on him and un-harnessed him from the cart for the time being so he could relax his muscles. Quite honestly, she had a few of her own to relax, too, after such a long walk. She settled down on the edge of the cart and treated herself to the loaf of bread she'd packed for lunch.

Having a spare moment to reflect allowed her to take a better look at her surroundings, something she felt she probably should do before returning to the hut, considering it'd been a decade since she last left her home. Grandmother came and went once or twice to see to the needs of needful folk in villages and farms, but usually, she'd left Lidene at home to watch things.

The hill rose up on one side of the path they were fallowing, dotted with trees, ancient and young, and shrubs of all kinds. The forest itself was bathed in a red-orange glow from the changing leaves strung all about, and the sounds of animals were not so rampant and noticeable as they might have been earlier in the year. Lidene had never seen the deep forest during this season, and if anything, it was a nice distraction from her current and gloomy mission. Her grandmother had once told her that the seasons changed when mythical creatures called unicorns passed out of the region. Their presence within miles brought about light and prosperity, so whether one saw them or not, there was at least some proof of their existence. Seeing them, of course, would bring on a blessed life to the owner of those eyes. Medefey had told her that was why they were saved during the sudden winter so many years ago. The old woman claimed to have seen them many times grazing in the field with Lysander. Lidene could not remember ever seeing such creatures. Being as divine as they were, she thought she should have. But grandmother explained to her that she had been very small at the time, just a toddler, so her only chances of recalling would be in dreams.

I wish I could be at home, having such beautiful dreams, now, she thought.

That in mind, leaving the hut empty was probably the only thing that made Lidene want to turn back, take grandmother home and bury her on the land there. At least, then, the place would not have been unprotected and open to the whims of strangers and thieves. It wasn't as though there were many things within her home that would be worth stealing to anyone but people like her and her grandmother, but that did not mean damage could not be done.

Lidene shook her head; filling it with worries and would-have, should-have, could-have's was the last thing she needed to do, after all.

I must stop trying to discourage myself, she thought.

Lysander whinnied and kicked at the air.

Lidene rose from her spot, startled at first, then just annoyed. "All right!" she barked, "I'm moving! No need to get so anxious!" She packed away what was left of her bread and hurried over to re-secure the horse to the cart. Ever the difficult creature, Lysander snorted and danced just out reach of the cart. Lidene stopped reaching for him and had to resist stamping one of her feet in anger. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded. "We've still got somewhere to be, Lysander!"

All the firmness dropped out of her voice and expression when he reared and nearly caught her in the face with one of his massive hooves, and she jumped back a few feet, white-faced, to avoid him when he came down. That removed him from her line of vision going directly from the cart, and the movement of a dark figure there made her pause. Her already rapidly beating heart all but stopped.

Whatever it was, that stood on two feet but looked little like a human, was poking and pulling at her grandmother's shroud and swaddling.

Her fear of the horse-gone-insane was quickly replaced by an impulse to protect her cargo. Whether or not the look of dread left her face, she knew not. All she would recall later in a blur of memories was grabbing up a stone and hurling it at her assailant.

The small but effective rock connected squarely in the center of its chest, and with a yelp, it toppled backwards.

Lidene knelt and dragged a knife out of one of her boots -- really the only dangerous weapon she possessed -- and talked after it. "G-Get away from there!" she bellowed, hoping that she sounded frightening enough.

It whimpered and scrambled back away from her, reaching into its clothing -- its armor; now that she was close enough she could see it was wearing armor -- for its own defense, most likely. "Do not hurt me!" it squeaked, holding up its other hand in something resembling a surrender gesture.

She scowled and opened her mouth to speak, distracted yet again by Lysander's cry. What started in a turn suddenly screeched to a halt, and she froze at the feeling of a blade, much larger than the one she carried, touching her throat. She heard her new attacker long before she saw him.

"Brave mortal you must be to come alone this way," he said, voice sounding like bits of rusted metal grinding together. A firm hand on her shoulder turned her, and Lidene's jaw dropped at the sight of a face so misshapen and decrepit that had she not watched it speak immediately after, she would have mistaken it for much older a corpse than the one her cart sported. He could not have been, in any way, human, so her next impression was that he must have been one of those creatures her grandmother had told her stories about. A Goblin. "Brave Mortal -- or a stupid one, I should say."

His words confirmed it, triggering a memory of one particular tale of such a being who spoke in verse, using its silky diction to coax a more foolish young miller boy into giving away his mother's horse for a few buttons and shiny rocks.

Both of them secure in the fact that she was not moving so long as his dagger remained at her neck, he snatched her parcel from her and cocked his head in the direction of the cart.

To the creature she'd left whining on the ground, "Anything interesting, Sprig?"

"Nooo, Blix," it hedged, still a bit of a tremble in its voice. "Old meat. Not very fresh at all." It poked at the wrapped corpse with its own blade, now, willing a choked "Stop it!" from Lidene.

Lysander still sounded as distressed as ever, and Lidene could roll her eyes in his direction and barely see him. Three more of the goblins had appeared and surrounded him. One was swinging a heavy, dingy looking rope, probably in the hopes of getting it about the stallion's neck.

"Leave him alone!" she cried.

Her own terror notwithstanding, Lidene wondered who she should feel sorry for in that picture: Lysander, or the poor wretch that got close enough to try and lasso him.

A harder bearing of the dagger brought her attention back to the goblin nearest her, now known as Blix, and she felt a gloved hand relieve her of her knife. A quick fling, and it was sent to meet with the stream, not likely to be seen again.

"Save your breath and don't trouble yourself, Lady," he drawled. "If we were going to kill you or the beast, we would have done it already." He drew the length of his dagger threateningly along her skin before removing it, obviously as aware as she was that running away was not an option.

Frightened tears stung her eyes as she backed away from him, casting a look behind her to make sure she was not retreating into any of his companions. "W-What do you w-want from me, then?"

"Nothing," he said slimily, a brown, toothy grin stretching across his face. "Tis the Baron that demands it, little Mortal."

"The Baron?" she echoed.

"Yes, the Baron!" squealed one of the Goblins nearest to a now subdued Lysander.

"Who is the Baron?"

As he sheathed his dagger, Blix quirked a wrinkled brow at her, for whatever reason surprised by her ignorance, but neither troubled nor amused at the prospect. "Yes, the Baron. You trespass in his lands," he sneered, once again shooting a hand out, this time to catch her arm, "and you face him. Your fate lies in his hands." He shoved her up the path, past the cart, and she nearly toppled into the first Goblin she'd seen, Sprig. "Bring the horse," he called back to the others.

The piggish Goblin that'd spoken before whooped and echoed his order. "If it can't work, it'll make a decent ration or two," he added grossly, and upon hearing that, Lidene felt her stomach twist in a sickly manner.

"Get moving!" Blix snapped, jostling her again.

She obeyed, if only to avoid being touched by him again, but she instinctually cast her gaze back toward the cart, "Where are you -- I can't just leave the --"

"You're going to, Missy, if you know what's good for you," he hissed, grasping her by the back of the neck and propelling her onward.

Sprig seemed to be in the same mindset, although probably for other reasons. "But -- But Blix! What about the --"

"Leave it. It's no good to us."

"No!" Lidene wailed, finding the strength to wrench out of his hold long enough to round and push back to where her grandmother's body lay.

Her captor's reflexes, while not quick enough to stop her from freeing herself in the first place, were certainly astute enough to catch her another time. He hooked an arm about her waist as she ran past, yanked her back toward him, and once again she felt cold steel at her defenseless throat. "Do that again, and you'll go to the Baron in pieces, friend," he ground into her ear. She closed her eyes in revulsion upon feeling his lips brush against her skin. He snarled, seemingly not enjoying the experience all that much either, for suddenly she was at arm's length again. "Now move!"

Lidene stumbled, vision blurred with tears again, but strode on out of fear of her own life. She cast one last regretful glance at the cart, which was falling behind the lot of them, even the struggling Lysander.

Grandmother…forgive me.

TO BE CONTINUED…