Legends: A Tale of Darkness and Terror

1. Grace

It was the time of the pre-rainy months. The weather was cloudy, and the sky was clouded with a thick grey mass that seemed to be devoid of water, though a drop of water would occasionally fall from them. The road, Burning Trail, was clean though it was between the two forests, Beggar's Bush. There was dirt all over the road, yet it was cleaner than the city. There were trees all around, left and right, on both sides of the road. There were tall trees of Egock, short and round trees of Bearberry with red, white, and green leaves. Grace felt a soothing coolness on her bare arms as the wind swept the leaf from the twigs into the damp soil, not mud, but the dirt that had been moistened by the gentle raindrops. The road through which they were passing was flat and straight, there was nothing but trees, patches, and soil that could not give justice to its name. But Grace's father, who is now old and is operating the wagon, told him that there was a battle. 

The Battle of the Roths. It happened thousands of years ago and everything was burned to ashes, it all happens right here in between these forests, of course, it was not called Beggars Bush then. Grace was looking passionately around her, waiting for the never-to-be-coming snow, when a bump disturbed her thinking power. One of the barrels from the wagon had fallen, and the other was seeping; the wine and sharb were slowly dissolving into the wood, and soon faded due to the wind. An incompatible and pleasant fragrance was born when the scent of water and rain were combined. The old man stopped the wagon, the two Te Ghorse stopped unwantedly. Grace stood from where she was sitting, her father jumped on the ground to look at the matter and to pick the barrel with the sound of leaf cracking and bees humming. 

Grace made her way to look at his father, the barrel was there, luckily the road was steady and flat and the barrel couldn't roll. Her father picked up the barrel with both his hands around it to push it up to the chest, it was heavy. Looking at her father struggling with a heavy wooden thing, she got down and helped him. The wagon was small, but with a lot of space for almost ten barrels. They both picked the barrel and put it gently on the wagon, his father climbed on the wagon to make space for his daughter to sit, while he was arranging and organizing the barrels, Grace looked inquisitively at the surroundings. Birds were chirping, winds were howling, drops were falling, and then. There was a sound, a hard and hurried sound of steps from the left side. It was coming from the Beggar's Bush. As the sound grew strong, her father looked and called for his daughter, "Grace! Come here. Stand right next to me and don't move." As the sound was now nearer they knew that it was not an animal.

Grace confusedly searched herself, there was no dagger or knife, she thought she had all the way, "Where is my knife father?" She asked with tension.

"How would I know? Shh!" He said and jumped from the wagon to quickly drive the wagon, "Sit and don't move." As the old man said these words a sudden quickness and sound of grass and wood and leaf came to their ears, there were two men, all in muddy clothes.

They were two, one tall and another huge. The taller one had no hair on his head and the beard was also somewhat half and incomplete, instead of the beard there was a thin layer of short white hair that covered his chin. He was dressed in a long, loose gown that reached his knees, as well as a thick brown cloth curled around his shoulders, and his trousers had holes through which the hairs on his thighs could be seen. Grace noticed his nose was red and runny, and his teeth were yellow and broken when he saw the man with the grim scowling smile. 

The second man was big and heavy in size, instead of too much hair on his head there was just a bunch, a pinch, which was lying on his forehead. His body was massive but his face was even bigger and ugly, totally red, full of stained spots, thin lips, and around the nose. His clothes were also loose and torn, out of which his stomach was coming out. He was trying hard to breathe, his breath was probably out from running. His clothes were all soaked in sweat and beer, his stomach shone through his thin tunic, and there were bear and blood stains as well.