There’s a legend about an evil man that haunted these towns. No one knows the name or the origin, all they know is that he came to bring hell on them. The first assaults happened almost a century ago. Nasty times, those were. He didn’t seem to age, decade after decade, the same vitality, the same dark and brutal energy as he slaughtered citizens of every town in the area.
Some people even talk about exceptional cases in which people were tortured or kidnapped, facing death in it’s most horrific and cruel form. Some say he was not a human. Maybe a beast, a demon, maybe the devil itself roaming through these places. People went away, giving up to fear, wishing for a happier life far away. Some of them maybe got what they wanted. Others are just missing, or missing pieces.
But today we sing. We sing now because it’s been more than a decade since we have last seen the horned helmet of the evil man. And it’s dreaded black horse. They say the horse has never changed, as if it was some kind of materialization of a nightmare. It’s said that had the eyes red as fresh blood. It could go as fast as it wanted to, silently as it had to.
I believe everyone in every town of the area celebrates these days, remembering that we have not seen the black knight for more than a decade. In some towns, they even made a whole week festival to comemorate. Everyone enjoys and as we laugh the fear disappears. Everyone but her.
She lived with an old woman that had taken care of her since she was a baby. One day the old woman simply came up with this baby, she claimed it was a very poor couple that abandoned the child at her door during the night. She could not leave the baby over there, so she decided to treat it as her own daughter, since she had never had one, until someone came to take the girl away. But in all these years, no one never came.
Since these things happened somewhat frequently at those times, no one raised the eyebrows as the old woman told this story, countless times. It actually happened to make people feel a little more comfortable about her. Some said she was a witch, or some kind of sorceress. Perhaps they were just envious of her wealth, not that she was actually one of the richest people around, but she had quite a good life with her possessions.
The townsfolk liked the girl, she was a common girl, despite being somewhat irritated when it came to celebrating the disappearance of the black knight. And, she was one of the most talented in combat among those at her young age. Sometimes she would go unstable and very angry when people started to mock the black knight, and that was quite hard to explain. But since that was one of the things that still had some shocking value at people, they could deal with her reaction.
Due to the wealth her ”mother” had, she would oftenly go out of town for something, sometimes special classes for rich people, sometimes fancy vacations, and no one would complain.
If only they knew...
The man watched the fight. A young girl, brandished her sword against a huge bearded man. Some could say it was a giant, the man had more than half a meter over the girl’s height, yet he seemed to be losing. She was swift, much more cunning than her old and clumsy foe. A few times it seemed like the giant had an advantage over her, almost taking half her arm out with a simple swing of his sharp blade. The loyal spectator frowned during these small times, like a teacher that look at a student making the same mistake test after test.
But the result was just as expected, on a quick move, the girl opened a big cut in the giant’s leg, big enough so it could take her attacker down with the pain and the loss of blood. After that his blood poured over the grass, coming right out of his head. She had jumped on his back as he bent down, holding his leg. The sword went straight to his skull.
She took the sword out and smiled to the spectator, running at his direction. He was sitting under a tree, table cloth covering the grass right at his side. Some food and beverages over the cloth.
- How was I, father?
She asks when she gets close enough, the man smiles at her, a sincere smile. He holds her, as he speaks seriously yet tenderly, proud of his daughter.
The black horned helmet at the other side of the table cloth, a dark horse running nearby...
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