A Land of Legends

The Wandering Dagger

The Kingdom of @Fantasy and @YAFantasy.

***

There's a reason why my parents warned me never to go out after dusk.

It isn't because the air is so frosty with the strange magic riding the wind from the south that I shiver. It isn't because the shadows come alive, writhing over my boots as I move through the night. Nor is it because the wolves howl their hunger, setting the little hairs on the back of my neck on end.

Legend speaks of something more dangerous—a dagger that roams the kingdom under the cover of darkness, seeking a youth to wield it for a painful price.

Why darkness? I asked once.

So it can sneak up on unsuspecting girls and force them to yield to its will, my mother said.

Why a youth?

The dagger was forged by a boy who had known countless terrors in his life, my grandmother told me and my sisters one evening. Before he died at the hands of his tormentors, he cursed it to ensure that the youth would never again be powerless.

What of the terrible price?

Nobody alive knows what it is, only that whoever the dagger claims is never heard from again.

It was then that my father entered the kitchen to berate my grandmother for filling our heads with fairy tales, then shoved a wooden pail into my hands for us to busy our idle hands collecting grapes to make wine.

As mesmerising as the tale was, when the sun was high in the sky and the kingdom was alive with chatter, my sisters and I scoffed at the idea that it was more than a story. Now that I am alone after the sun has retired to bed and the land has fallen into a sleeping silence around me, the legend sounds like it can be something more.

"Ca..."

Hearing a whisper, I stop dead in front of our gate. I convince myself that it is nothing, just rustling leaves or the wind's breath.

I shouldn't be thinking about fairy tales after dark. The type told in Scydelle aren't to lull children into a sweet sleep, only to scare them into obedience.

I knew nothing else for sixteen years, but today is different. Romina, the baker's daughter, invited me to her birthday gathering this evening. It was after dusk, but she assured me we'd be safe indoors. I wasn't entirely at ease with the idea, but I couldn't refuse. Nobody refused Romina.

I told myself I was going because Romina always has the freshest bread and finest olives to offer her guests, but that wasn't the only reason. I wanted the chance to belong among the girls who had laughed at me once for having teeth too big for my mouth.

The gathering went better than I expected. The girls had giggled with me instead of about me. We chatted until we fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, I awoke in the same room as them with the realisation that I was in enemy territory.