Enchantments and Other things

Chapter 3. - Legion is the name.

Legion in his youth was known to be many things. His charisma showed no bounds. His wit and wry humor inspired many poems and legends. His looks, although meager and modest to most, was unforgettable and easy on the eyes.

In short, Legion was a walking legend.

Legion came from a very prolific city. He was a son of nobleman, and he was in his own rights, very famous. Although, he was indeed stranger than his heritage, aside from his coloring and looks, his parents were his exact opposite. Yet miraculously, he was blessed by the guardians with patience enough for his whole family. Heck, probably even his whole dreary town!

Yet as he trudged quietly on the clearing on his way to the city of Duwo. His pace was more than his leisurely stride. He needed to get to the city, fast!

"Travel northwest, they said. You'd be there in four moons, they said. It would be a shortcut, they said! Bah!" He grumbled to himself. His stomach did the same. "That would be the last time I ever listen to potion addle-numbed trolls."

He had been travelling for three moons nonstop, yet according to the last town he just passed, the city was another four moons away.

His stomach made another sound. He ignored it. He just ate eight hours ago! He couldn't possibly be hungry again? He needed to save the little food he had and stretched it till morning. By then, he can stop and look for more food. Maybe there were berries or a fruit tree nearby?

But then, if you wasted time looking for food, you'd take longer to get to Duwo. You know what that means, yes? A small voice in his head murmured. He tried not thinking of the answer. It would be best to save the remaining food you have until we get to Duwo! By then, you can have your fill and you could save Adelaide in the process.

His mind swirled. His stomach grumbled. He was reaching his limit and yet he wanted to push forward and get to where he needed to be. He continued walking. He made a vow that Adelaide came first before anything else! The little evil voice in his head was right.

He realized his head was lulling downward to the road. Probably due to exhaustion and hunger? Maybe his posture was off again? Maybe both? Bah! He was going mad. He lifted his head to look up at the road ahead and suddenly he froze.

A few feet away was a red cloaked figure brandishing what looks to be a knife. He paused and stared. Any abled body would run the opposite direction or at least hide. Yet he was not like any other abled body.

He was Legion, son of a nobleman, a bona fide idiot.

He soon took notice of shaking hands and before he could utter anything else, the hands swooped down and purged the eerie shadow laying beneath the cloaked figure.

There were no sounds.

Which was odd since Lior had imagined that there would have been a lot of –stabby sounds when murder was about. And screaming. Lots and lots of screaming.

Yet as the cloaked figure stood from the shadow it maliciously slaughtered, it made no sound. Each move it made, although seemed uncertain or nervous, was precise and graceful. Even the shadow thing didn't move nor flinch during the, err, act. Although if it did move then that would definitely make him soil his last pair of undergarments.

"'Lo!" He suddenly heard himself bellow. He did not know what urged him to suddenly speak. He was supposed to stay quiet and let the fellow do what he was doing. He had no intention to be noticed, specially, if the maniac might need a new recipient.

He wanted to run yet he didn't have the energy to do so.

"Fine weather we have tonight, ain't it?" He was dead. "Fine enough to murder." He was better off dead. He puffed up his chest. He once read somewhere that chickens would puff out their chest to ward off predators. Maybe if he pretended to be a murderer too, the cloaked figure would think of him as an ally and he would be left unscathed!

Brilliant! He thought proudly, he gave the cloaked figure a look that conveyed as if he was in on nefarious deeds too.

"Might I say, I was also on the hunt to, erm, find myself a victim too... errr tonight—to loot and, uhm, kill with my, uhh," He rummaged through his belongings only to realize he had no weapons. He had nothing but a sack with perishables and another set of clothing. None of which could protect him from the assailant if his plan backfired. He rummaged through his things and presented what he could.

"Is that an orange?" The cloaked figure asked stunned.

"Uhm, uh, yes! A poisonous orange! Ready to, uhm, poison, anyone who, uhm, gets hit with it." He was getting too tongue tied. The assailant was a woman! He was still wrapping his mind with the sudden realization. It was better off if he knew nothing! "It has a 100 percent death rate. Very, uhm, it's a rare find in the, uhm, in the murder markets!"

She remained still as he ridiculously extended his arm towards her... gripping the orange.

"What have ye plundered tonight, milady?" The woman was not speaking at this point. He wished he did the same thing. He couldn't. It seemed that he wanted to keep giving her reasons to make him quiet like her previous victim.

Speaking of the poor bastard, Legion noticed that the victim started to stir. The suddenness made him stupider and he did the first thing he shouldn't have done.

He threw the orange at it.

"Bloody hell!" The woman exclaimed outraged. "Why'd you do that?" She quickly turned to look at the befallen victim.

Legion was at a loss for words. What was he doing? Did he want to aid this woman in her dastardly deeds to avoid meeting his demise? Or was he just an idiot?

The woman who was facing the victim now started whispering to it. As much as he would love to hear what she was saying. It suddenly dawned on him.

What if she was not a murderer but the complete opposite. What if she was a passerby, who had a golden heart, and was helping someone in need... in the middle of the night... in the woods... with a knife.

Yes. That is absolutely logical.

Suddenly, the fruit he had discarded earlier, came flying back to him. Towards his face—exactly on his left eye.

"Please be rid of your poisonous fruit before it hurts someone else." The woman said wryly. She did not look at him when she threw back the fruit, hence, her aim was immaculate. She was still busy caring for the victim on the ground.

The sting of the hit burned. Possibly because some of the juice of the fruit also tinged his eye. He yelped in pain, "Poisoned!". The woman suddenly turned and looked at him and, in that moment, while his eye stung from the hit and the pulp, the moon started to shine directly at his audience.

Instead of getting a good glimpse of the woman, he instead focused the attention to her first victim. Which turned out to be... a wolf!

In his shock, he fell on his back. His other eye feeling its own sting as he closed both eyes.

He started flailing. He did have a flair for the dramatics.