A liquid trickled down her chin, but she couldn’t tell if it was sweat, blood, or a blend of both. She felt the sweat coating her body. It caused the hilt of her sword to slip in her grip, prompting her to hold on tighter. She squeezed her other hand, missing the shield that used to be there. Her body ached from the exertion she had put forth the last few minutes as she teetered on the edge of exhaustion. She wiped her eyes and confirmed that she had been hit, blood streaked down her sleeve and arm.
The creature shambled forward. She wondered if it could gauge the extent of the injuries she sustained. It was mindless, cursed, and stripped of its humanity. The husk was a mere shadow of its former self. She knew it was damaged, but it continued forward, either not caring about its cuts or deeper wounds or not feeling them. It advanced toward her, and she clutched her sword even tighter.
It was close enough for a pounce. This had caught her off guard in the past, but she was prepared. She counted a few more seconds and lowered herself. It leaped. She jumped. The blade plunged into its skull as her body was thrown to the side. The shambler had no time to react and fell, its skull split open by the force of the blade and hilt.
She laid there, looked up and prayed it wasn’t going to rise again.
There was a long silence. The wind rushed through the field and created a low hum through the chimes.
“Well, then what?” a young female voice blurted out.
“What do you mean ‘then what?’ That’s it,” a huskier voice answered. The creak of a rocking chair on a wooden deck followed the response.
“You can’t end a story like that. Did it get up? Were there more of them?”
“No, it was finished off and she survived.”
“That’s the end?” Her voice matched her disappointed face. “That story can’t be real.”
“It’s true. That was your great-great-great-grandmother. She was a true adventurer and fighter.”
“Then where are all the artifacts from these stories? Or did she get any medals or anything other than the few items you have locked away?”
“I’m sure they’re in a castle somewhere. She did her duty for those she served; her reward is all around you. This land, this farm, a few things we have to remember her by. She lived out the rest of her years here. The story was that she met a boy who was a merchant and fell in love. She and your great-great-great-grandfather settled here.”
The sound of wind rattling the chimes and the creak of wood on wood from the rocking chair filled the void as the teenage girl turned this new information over in her mind. More questions formed.
“How did our family go from being adventurers to farmers?” Curiosity laced through the question.
“I couldn’t tell you. All I know is farming. I don’t adventure as there are scarier tales I have yet to tell you.”
“I’m almost 14. You can tell me those stories, Dad.” she huffed at his response.
“I will, one day.”
It was silent again except for the wind sighing. Both father and daughter sat in their chairs. He continued to rock, lost in thought. She was sitting as forward as she could. A world of wonder and excitement danced in her mind. She imagined herself taking on these monsters and discovering a treasure of her own. She wouldn’t share. There would be a room or two in her castle that was dedicated to her many trophies. She smiled and sat back a little.
“I know that you have the spirit in you, Mesu. You are active, bright, and a thrill-seeker. As a baby, you would climb on anything you could. I feel you might be the one to escape this life. If you do, know that you will always have a home here.” He looked at Mesu, who was leaning back now. She smiled up at her father.
“I don’t think I’ll be leaving, Dad. Who’ll take care of everyone if I do go?” They smiled at each other before continuing to look out at the sunset.
———————–
“Let’s go, now!” Her mother was in her room and panicked. Mesu was slow to move and jostled awake by her parent. She came to the realization this was not a dream and stopped herself from falling out of her bed. Her mother grabbed her hand and started to run. Mesu struggled to regain her footing as they ran down the hall. Smoke filled every room they passed. An unusual warmth touched at Mesu’s skin. They reached the sitting room at the back of their home, and her mom stopped her.
“We’re all going to meet at your aunt’s house. You remember how to get there?” Her mother’s voice was shaky. Mesu nodded instinctively. “Good.” Her mother opened a curio cabinet and reached in. She handed her daughter a dagger. Mesu looked down as it sat in her hand. “Protection.” The word rang out in her mind. What exactly did that mean? She glanced at it again and realized it was one that she wasn’t allowed to touch. It was bone and metal fused together with a leather covering for the handle. Mesu had marveled at it in the past and did so again.
“Come on, let’s go.” Her mom grabbed her by the shirt and pulled until Mesu complied and followed. They moved back down the hall and over to the side door. Her mom peered out of the windows as her dad and older brother joined them. The smoke burned Mesu’s eyes and throat.
“You know where we are going. Your father and I are going to run out there first and we want you both to run through the hole we make. Don’t stop, just keep going to your aunt’s house.” She waited until both of the children nodded. “Good.”
Mesu grabbed the door as it was flung open and stood behind it as her mother and father rushed out. She heard loud chattering outside followed by chaos. Her brother squeezed her arm and ran out. Mesu followed. Her eyes had adjusted to the firelight, and she could make out shapes coming up fast. They made it past a scramble of figures, and Mesu kept running.
Her progress halted as a weight slammed into her from her right side. She could feel the wiry frame scramble on top of her as thin hands held her down. She struggled against it before one arm was freed. She remembered the knife and grabbed for it, jamming it forward into the shape. It let out a screech and scratched across her chest. She could feel the thin nails swipe on her skin as they scraped. A liquid hit her neck as the figure atop her went limp. She tossed it off her own body and turned herself over.
She crawled forward as she got her legs back underneath her. Mesu sprinted and got to the tree line. She stopped, going against her mother’s words, and hid behind a thick trunk. Looking back, she could see many slim figures pacing as three larger piles were silhouetted against the fire. Mesu wanted to go back. The adrenaline was flowing through her veins. Her eyes went wide as she took in the moment. The thought of the frame going limp on her caused her body to shake. Had she taken a life? Her hands loosened on the tree trunk.
It was a thing of legend, from a couple of stories she was told. A goblin. It almost felt human. She felt at her neck. The blood was sticky and chilled to the touch. It bled like her. At one time, it had been alive. She took a step back and bumped into another tree. She stepped to the side and backed up more. Mesu turned around and started toward the gathering point. It had a life before and was now dead because of her. What was it called, she wondered. It was a personal question she didn’t want to answer. She forced her feet to keep walking through the forest towards her aunt’s house.