The Rider

He appeared at night riding a beast made of shadow. Clad in coal coloured armour, a cape billowed behind him; its ends frayed ever so slightly, upon his head a black helmet sat covered in spikes, it blocked the face behind the mask. The only sign of life was the red-orange glow coming from the slits for the wearers eyes. Wherever the rider went, mist seemed to follow, reaching out and engulfing everything it passed.

His present in the city of Kota was a mystery to all. Was he summoned? Or was he there on dark business of his own. Some say he could sense souls that contained great power or wisdom; he would seek them out and take them to wherever a creature of such evil dwelled. Perhaps such a soul dwelled in the city now.

As he rode towards the castle he found the town surrounding it to be deserted. The townsfolk had been wary since late afternoon; an unsettling feeling had blown through like the wind. Without a good reason they had found themselves calling young ones in early, securing the locks on the doors and windows, those who had swords kept them close, those without brought in shovels and pitchforks.

House after house the rider past but no one tried to stop him; the brave watched him pass peeking out from behind their closed blinds. The hooves of his beast echoed in the silence that surrounded Kota like a bubble.

When he reached the castle wall, the rider paused for a moment. He waited, but still no one came, not even a guard. Instead he was greeted by a magnificent tree that grew in the center of the road just outside the great doors. Planted by Kota's founders the tree had seen many seasons past. Its silver as starlight branches casted a moonlight glow, lighting up the thick bush of dark sky blue and sea green leaves that covered the tree.

Facing the doors, the rider lifted his left arm; a force like five hundred strong hammers hit the wall. It shook. Stones cracked. Pieces broke off and crash to the ground.

Before the rider could strike again, a soft thud was heard behind him. The rider turned and saw that standing under the tree, illuminated by its glow, stood a young girl. She was the daughter of one of the royal guards and a personal friend of Kota's princes. She pulled out her sword, silently challenging the rider.

The rider turned, accepting the challenge. He pulled out his own sword, its hilt was studded in purple gems, the long blade was like a bow; the spine was lined with jagged points, the edge smooth and curved slightly, while the center was left empty; at the tip, the two halves came together running towards the point. It made the girl's ordinary sword look even more undistinguished. Nevertheless, the girl raised her sword, waiting for the rider to strike.

As he turned and readied to charge, the rider's beast snorted as if to laugh at the girl. Rushing forward, the rider swung his sword, aimed for the girls head.

Their swords connected with a loud clank; sparks flew as the mettle scraped together. Whether it was luck or fate, the girl blocked his attack. But this was not practising with her father or fooling around with the princess; the riders blow broke her wrist; her sword fell to the ground. He circled, preparing to charge again; his beast scratched at the ground in anticipation. The rider raised his sword as he charged, but still the girl did not move.

This time, his sword found its mark. The mighty blade pierced her heart and ran all the way through sticking into the tree behind her. She was pinned, her feet dangling a few inches off the ground. The rider pulled his sword back and the girl fell.

A great gust of wind like a blast wave blew through the town. A thunder like clash could be heard for miles. The rider and his beast disappeared, no trace was left of them.

When the gates of the castle finally opened, the princes emerged, but all that was left of her dearest friend was her sword that lay by the tree. Picking it up, the princess walked towards the tree. It's once perfect bark now split where the rider blade had cut through. Suddenly blackness started to spread out from the wound. Up the tree it ran, snuffing out its beautiful glow and robbing all its leaves of colour.

The rider was never seen in Kota again, or any of its neighboring towns. For a while, some believed that by standing up to him, the rider had been destroyed, but he was spotted time to time in other realms of the land.

The princess kept the sword, passing down the memory of her childhood friend. For the townsfolk, the only evidence of the night the rider came was the tree that forever stood, seemingly dead, outside the castle walls. No blade could cut it down; no fire could burn it. Some believe that the tree absorbed the rider's evil power. Other think the tree will live again when she who defied him was born once more; a sign that the rider would return. To all the townsfolk of Kota, the tree stood as a reminder of what happened that night, insuring that legend never passed into tail.