In the outskirts of the village and beyond the meadows, poured down a small stream which directed people down the rocky road which ends in the southern graveyard. Every men, women and children of the village are accustomed to this road, it's coarseness doesn't hurts them no longer anymore. One can still find traces of footsteps left by the black death at every door. It is now to die in the house or to die in journey to the capital.
Look at the girl, clearly malnourished yet dressed well on the occasion of her father's funeral this morning. Those are the garments borrowed from her aunt who lives three houses apart. Her father was buried beside the graveyards of her two mothers and her siblings who perished within a year of the plague.
In the funeral she stood apart aloof from the ceremony, running her thin fingers on the rugged bark of Yew tree wondering if this century old behemoth is satiated with all the fresh lives it's root has suckle upon. Yet as she followed the roots they extended far beyond the lands, it's seeds hatched into the ever extending nameless graves.
When the old pastor arrived he called out for her. Lucidly she dragged her naked feet and she stood in front of him where upon he hugged her, trying his best to comfort the heart of the teenager.
Yet she never reciprocate, silently stood there.
No tears came out from those darkened eyes... Upon release she poked them, rubbed them hard as she could to squeezed out a drop but it was famine everywhere, even in the blue sky.
At noon she returned home, a ghost house the biggest one around here. All pompous outside but the innards were all scrapped until cobweb and dust was all that is left. The prizes were all spent away in gambling and in alcohol right after the elder women died.
Day end after she and her sisters nursed men, the abuse grew with each hours pass bye. The smallest were first to die followed them their sisters. The eldest men pined away soon after.
The breaking point of her father came after the loose of his son, where upon he crawled into his bed…. no sunlight, no food nothing but to wait in patience.
Sometimes he would throw tantrums when she came to clean him up
"If only one of my sons were alive."…."Why are you still alive?" He mumbled all day.
Now there was nothing, just silence and darkness, the plague has extended even to the birds and the crickets of the fields.
The girl sat on the stairs looking at one trophy still left in the ceiling, it was a tiger's head, said to have killed around a thousand….. A man-eating beast is more deadlier than any three-faced ape, Werewolf or Gryphon. All the youngster of the time this beast was alive were torn apart by it's claws. It was said to have finally been slain by her father thus giving him the title of beast slayer. She still remember the time when her father wished his son's too take after him.
"what will become of me?" She said to herself. The girl realized that the house will no longer be her's, in-fact all the trophies, the titles, the lands and even the cattle will soon be her uncle's property by the law.
As soon as she got up to head outside the problem came knocking itself. Outside waited her uncle and a fat old man.
"Oh! The daughter of my poor brother, it seems you have been grieving all day but worry not I've brought Mr.Dylak here, who has taken great interest and wants to share your unfortunate fate." said her uncle.
The girl looked at Mr.Dylak, he looked older than her own father, and more overweight than the pigs in the backyard. He steeped forward with his fat thumb running on his chin. He observed her like a cattle hanged up for sale.
"Bit scrawny but she will do." snorted Mr.Dylak.
"What's it all about uncle?" She was genuinely astonished.
"It's about your marriage, you are already of age and it seems Mr.Dylak here is willing to take you."
"Isn't he married to three women already?"
"A wealthy man needs more in this circumstance, he is willing to give us a plot of land in exchange."
".…."
"Now, hurry up and get dressed, we will be waiting for the church; Be there within an hour"
--
From her childhood she had nothing of her own, either it was of her sibling or it was of her mother. Even now looking at the wardrobe there was not a single thread to her name. They were always borrowed, every trivialest of matter be it. Now that the individual properties were buried along with the owners, she looked at the blank wall, color of her borrowed dress got darker. Finally under the bed she found a coat and a pant her father used to wear on ceremonies, gifted to him by the Great Valka Family residing in Astongard the capital of Angleland.
It was afternoon, as the wind blows in the deserted land there was a bizarre figure in coat, a pant and an insignia of a royal and a long hat to cover the long white hairs, the dog's escaped at the first sight, while the woman hide their suffocating child under their arms. When the church was on sight the girl, in a fancy getup resembling a war general went to the garden. Most of her childhood was spent here, loitering and collecting ornaments made of flower but they wilt away under the weather. As the autumn continues the barren garden replicates the look of the graveyard just with the plague loitering closer than ever.
"You always liked them. Didn't you?" Said the pastor, had a somber look, sadness in the eyes. "Heard you'll be married of to that old pig Dylak."
She nodded.
"So? Why dress up like a man? Where is your weeding dress woman?"
"Don't know" She said, "Buried with my family I guess. Searched every corner of the old house and found tis."
The pastor scratched his gray hairs, there was a faint smile "the way I see it, its just from one slavery to another?"
The girl didn't reply.
"Well Come inside its getting colder, I got things to convey to you." the pastor lead her to his quarters. From his cupboard he took out two small glasses and a bottle of rum. "Have some, this old stuff will give you clarity."
"I am underage." She replied. This was the first time someone had offered her a drink.
Ignoring her he poured until a quarter of the glass was filled and said, "When I was your knee high I used to get onto all kind of stuff searched every tavern or corners of the barn and even ventured into the great forest. Its was never to get high or something. It was always curiosity, wanting to discover something was always my passion. If it weren't for my older sister I would've been an adventurer by now." He took a sip, eyes looking, wrinkles in his mouth disappeared hiding up a fading smile, the potential future lost forever. He chugged another one and earnestly looked straight at the girl's eyes, carefully he engraved words into his tongue to articulate something profound
"I've seen you since your childhood, is the four walls of someone else house too cozy for you?"
She didn't reply, holding the cup tightly all she could think was to avoid eye contact.
"Become a servant of the god then."
The girl eyes wandered around the church wall which outlasted several civilization and the faith erected by a thousand hands. She thought of becoming a nun wasn't bad after all. But the wind and the garden remind her of the graveyard all the nameless placard and all the insignificant life lost in the name of faith. She wanted something significant and unique that only belongs to her.
"I don't want to stay here any longer, I want to see what's beyond forest." She whispered.
The pastor smiled, he got up and from his drawer he produced a letter.
"Say little miss, Can you use magic?"
"A little bit of water magic."
"Then how about you enroll in the Angolob Magic institution in the capital. My sister's son works there I will write an introduction letter to him for you."
The girl's eyes sparkled, for the first time in her life there was life in those eyes.
"Don't worry I will cover your fees."
"Father, Why would you go this far for someone like me?"
"The poor chap, who I call nephew, Well his father died by the jaws of the gnarly beast which your father famously slew" he said in a soft voice, there was regret,"I always wanted to avenge the man I once called brother. But was too coward to take up the arms, even now I feel nauseatic at the sight of that beast's head. I think this is how I will repay the debt.
The girl opened her mouth to say something but there was a banging in the door.
"Father are you there." the voice was of her uncle.
"Seems like they have come, now what will you do?"
The old man sank into his armchair.
The girl looked at he letter and then took a deep break.
"I will be answering them." she said with a renewed vigor. As a first step of her courage she raised her glass and chugged it all in at once. The liquid burned her throat, spread to her lungs and then her stomach, she could feel each drop traveling down. The roughness of the drink cracked her voice, she was on her knees coughing vigorously. The faint gurgle was all broken.
The pastor did nothing, he sat and watched, his hands hiding his smile.
After a minute, she got up the dullness vanished. Her blood was running high and her breathe deepened. She would go on to open the door and face her uncle.
"Why are you dressed like that?" her uncle was flabbergasted.
"Has your family never taught you to dress up girl." Added the fat man from behind.
The intoxication although made her unstable, gave something she missed- courage to speak out for herself, words that never came out of her mouth, "I don't owe you anything." said in a low but audible tone.
"Have you gone mad?" screamed her uncle." Who will take care a wench like you? Did your father never taught you how to respect adult's wish?"
"This bratty girl" shouted Dylak." Just because you are daughter of a hero doesn't mean you can just turn down my generous offer. If you want to make a good name of Mr Megrek you should join my harem."
The girl glared at him, his own legacy had crushed her all the time, all her life she was the daughter of Megrek but never called for her truest self.
"i've a name." She mumbled.
"What are you saying? Speak loudly Megrek's daughter."
The cloud growled up, the echo shook the branches which bash against each other to scratch out even a little fluid, Maluk Leohard who lived under his brother shadow stepped back for a moment as the shadow of the girl fell on his flesh. His blood was cold, and so was his Dylak's. The clouds rushed to their heir, to witness the first step of the coming heiress.
"My name is Erekviya Leohard daughter of Megrek Leohard and I no longer choose to be toiled by you all to be enclosed by four walls. My destination is mine own to choose."
Thus began Erekviya's journey of finding her own legacy.