#thegreatwall

there are legends throughout europe and so on and so forth that tell of magic, magic that has been long forgotten by the men of this age, only left deep within the trunks of the forest's trees, and the leaves that grow on the walls of ancient buildings. spirits will still whisper of the women who were able to wield this magic, they say if you are willing to listen in the calmness of a silent forest, they will tell you the stories of these women, warriors of an ancient tribe of druids and healers. but man became jealous of the power these women wielded, for they were unable to wield it themselves; and thus, they sought to destroy it. thousands taken from their homes and burned, simply for the crime of being connected to nature and the spirits that surrounded them. years passed and men were certain that they had wiped every trace of these women from their country. what they did not know, however, was that deep in the forest, they had left one family behind.  this family, a man, and woman, her belly swollen with the promise of a little girl, knew of the danger; she knew to hide her gifts from the world, for the safety of both her love and her child, in the hopes that by doing so they would remain safe from those who would seek to strike them down.  in an effort to hide, they traveled further into the woods, where they know they could not be found and built their cottage their, living off of the land until their daughter was born, a young girl who quickly grew into a young woman.  this same young woman who buried her father, taken by an ancient disease for which his lover and daughter, despite possessing the very same gift, could not find him a cure.  it was another seven summers before it was her mothers turn to return to the earth, only a week before the autumn equinox. returning her mothers body to the earth and in turn, letting her soul become apart of the forest was not saddening for this young woman, now twenty three summers of age, returning her mother to the earth was treated as a celebration, for now, she was reunited with her love, buried in the same spot under a large willow tree at the center of their forest, forever staying by each other's side, just as the gods intended.  at both the beginning and end of every season, their daughter, possibly the last of her kind in all of norway, visits that same willow tree and sits, sharing a meal with her parents; she believed that when she sat and ate with them, they truly were beside her.  -- pero tovar was raised on tales of this magic, these women in stories who could manipulate nature and talk to spirits. these were stories that, as a child, his mother would whisper to him in order to be lulled to sleep. in his youth, he always believed that there was truth to the stories; yet as he grew and had to bury his mother, his sister and his father, the stories eventually faded into distant memories. the last time those stories ever crossed his mind was as he was looking back on the shores of spain as the boat he was traveling on sailed away. years had passed since then, pero had grown from being that teenage boy to a man. becoming a traveling mercenary was not hard in this age, and the scars the littered his tanned and aged face was proof of his success in his line of work. he had never been to norway before, this was the first time a job had called for him to be in such a place. he did not like the temperature, it was almost always cold and damp each day as there was little to no sun. as soon as he had entered the small village to meet with the man who was in need of his services, people seemed to be intimidated by him. as soon as they laid their eyes upon his armor and weapons, his tan skin and the large scar staining the left side of his face, they would quickly avert their eyes and scurry on their way much faster than they originally had. pero did not dislike these reactions, if anything, he relied upon them to maintain a reputation as a terrifying mercenary that could be hired for even the vilest of jobs.  these villagers seemed just as odd to pero as he did to them, most of them pale with light colored hair, all wearing thick furs and coats to protect themselves from the harsh cold that almost always seemed to linger no matter the time of day. no matter how many years he had known of europeans, they always still seemed such an odd bunch to the spaniard.  his job in the village was simple, venture into the thick forests and hunt down a small group of bandits who had been plaguing one of the trading routes for months now; their presence had made it harder to transport food to the village while also making it near impossible for them to transport their goods to sell at the larger market a days travel away. the leader of the village was willing to pay a hefty sum of coin in exchange for snuffing out their problem, coin that pero would happily accept.   the day that he left the village with a small bag of supplies given to him in preparation, pero did not expect the forests to be so eerie. though he was no longer a child that was scared of the dark and shadows he'd used to imagine on the walls, he could admit that he felt eyes watching him as soon as he crossed the barrier that led into the forever winding and twisting woods.  all he could do was shake the thoughts and remind himself that he was here to hunt down bandits, receive his coin and be on his way. in no less than a week he would be back on a ship and going to his next job.  this was the like that pero had accepted years ago, when he first left his home in spain and everything he ever remembered of his parents and sister. on the ship he'd told himself that this was the life he was choosing to live and he quickly accepted that.  it had been another few hours of walking before the sun had started to go down and pero knew that he would need to set up a camp; he had been warned by his employer that it was best to sleep throughout the night, for things changed in the forest at night and it was best not to be awake to witness them. while he did not believe his employers superstition, he thought it was best to get a decent amount of rest for the inevitable fight he may come across tomorrow when the sun rose.  as he set up his camp, consisting of only a small fire and a tarp he could sleep on; pero's mind could not be ripped from the lingering memory of his employers warning and the things he was talking about. what did he mean by things that he best not witness? what things lingered in his forest that caused it to be in his best interest to not see them? these were the only things pero was able to think of as he ate a small part of the rations he had been given, and still when he laid down on his back on the tarp, staring up at the night sky peeking through the thick trees, it was still all he could think of. even when he fell asleep he was still thinking of such things, the things he assured himself were just old wise tales from a superstitious group of europeans who didn't know any better, that was what it was, there was no danger.  -- when he finally awoke, it was light and yet still grey and glum. his fire had been reduced to glowing cinders throughout the night, smoke still lingering from the ashes.  it took pero little time to stomp out the evidence of a fire and pack up his glorified excuse for a camp before he was off again, hiking throughout the thick wood that was already beginning to look the same.  not many hours had passed by the time pero finally caught sight of the camp that the bandits had set up, he had seen the smoke emitting from their fire and could hear the booming laughter coming from the men. approaching slowly and quietly, pero hid behind a large bush from a distance and watched the men, counting that there were eight all together. this was a problem, because his employer had told him that there would be only five for him to take on. either they had recruited more men in the time since he'd arrived, or his employer was attempting to cheat him out of a deal. his experience with past employers made him lean towards the latter. a matter that could be sorted once he returned to the village to collect his coin, plus extra for the unexpected added men.  it was only after three more hours of staking the men out and watching their moving habits that he decided he would attack once it grew dark and it was harder for them to spot him. in little time he'd already committed the layout of their camp to memory and kept track of who would be sent to keep watch. it would be best to attack when what appeared to be the youngest kept watch, no older than twenty summers it seemed, still young and rambunctious, not taking his won duty of keeping as seriously as he should due to over confidence. pero could not help but be reminded of himself when he was that age, cocky and adventurous. too cocky for his own good, the main he reason he wore the scar on his face to prove it. as he watched the bandit camp, his eyes could not help but drift to the side, looking further out into the highly dense forest, a soft fog seeming to linger and contrast with the grey skies. for a brief moment, pero could have sworn he saw a figure standing in the distance, any features except their outline hidden from the fog; though he was able to make out that they were wearing a coat made of fur and had a set of long flowing hair that reached their hips. a woman. in the middle of the forest, watching a bandit camp just as he was.  his brows furrowed at the sight, however, as soon as he blinked, the figure was gone from his view, only more fog lingering in the place they once stood.  part of pero hoped that the forest was not beginning to seep into his mind, causing him to imagine figures of women that were no there. figures that some men would mistake for the woeful spirits of the forest. not pero, he was above such superstitions and instead, quickly shook the thought from his mind and turned his head back to the camp, continuing to stalk his prey in silence, watching and waiting for his moment to strike.  -- this was not how things were have supposed to have gone. he was supposed to have killed those men easily, gone back to the village with evidence of his triumph, collect his coin and be on his way to the next village.  he was not supposed to have been injured while doing so, stabbed in the stomach with a hidden dagger that he had not seen and fallen down a steep and muddy hill, left with nothing but a single sword on his back and a bleeding wound he had done a cruel job of patching up with cloth from his own clothes once he had come to.  he was unsure how long he had been unconcious for; certainly enough for it now to be morning. his attack had only resulted in killing five of the men before he was stabbed by one of the remaining three; the youngest one, he was the one that had stabbed him. pero almost wanted to let out a bitter chuckle at the irony of such a thing if it would not have resulted in him clutching a tree doubled over in pain from the stab wound in his stomach.  every step that he took resulted in a hot, searing pain erupting in his chest. this pain caused him to let out cruel hisses among heavy panting. he used his anger as not being able to recognize the blade before it pierced him as motivation to push on, as well as reminding himself that he had experienced worse than this in his life, worse that he had continued to persevere and live through. this was simply another scar to add to the collection already covering his body. a map of his battles and triumphs.  as the hours wore on and on, pero felt the exhaustion beginning to caress him. his head was becoming lighter, his eyes were becoming heavier and his legs became weaker and more shaky with every step he took.  the smell was what hit him first. the smell of a wood fire. that was what prompted him to raise his head and look at the tops of the trees, spotting the sight of smoke only meters ahead. the line of smoke in the sky was all he could see, the tops of the tress were so thick that they obscured any sight of the source, only giving him the direction in which he needed to go.  as he traversed on further, pero began to contemplate what he would do should the source of the smoke prove to be a danger to him rather than a help. he was took weak to fight and was only growing more exhausted with every step. though he did have his sword on his back, he would not be able to defend himself. the more he began to think about what he would do, the less aware he was of the fact that he was closely approaching a break in the thick forest. almost a perfect circle of treeline, and within this circle laid a cottage made of dark wood, no doubt built from the very trees surrounding it. by the entrance stood a lantern, with a flame standing oddly still despite the breeze lingering throughout the forest. however, the moment pero stepped into the circle of treeline and onto the mossy grounds of the cottage, the breeze that had been blowing around him stopped almost instantly, leaving him in a dull silence filled only by the sounds of movement within the cottage.  too exhausted to care any longer about who lied within, pero limped towards the entrance, no longer caring to hide his grunts and hisses of pain. it was only when he finally reached the door that he succumbed to his weakness. his hand only just reaching up to lay flatly on the door before he collapsed and landed on his side.  his eyes had begun to grow too heavy to keep open, and as his blinks became slowly and heavier, he was only just able to make out the sight of the door opening and only just felt the feeling of being dragged inside by his arms as he finally fell victim to his tired state and became unconcious once more.