The snow-covered mountain peaks were passing under him when
his sharp ears heard the sounds destroying the wonderful,
usual silence of the grey and white mountain-landscape. He
flew an elegant half circle, he beat his wings to increase
speed and flew over the snow-covered passes towards the
sounds. Abruptly the white and grey spots of rock vanished
into a deep valley. A valley filled with people, two huge
armies, who fought against each other. He heard the clashing
of iron swords on shields or other swords and the screams of
the wounded and dying. His sharp eyes let him see the
shattered bodies of the dead, lying on the ground with their
cruel, bloody wounds and their empty, wide open eyes... He
gave a cry, a bright, clear cry that was filled with anger
and grief. Why did humans do that? Why did they destroy his
world? The dead bodies and the blood would pollute the
valley's ground for a long time, maybe it would never heal
to be the same again...
While he flew over the battlefield he saw a warrior. He was
big and had long, black hair that surrounded his every
movement like a dark cloud. In his hands he held a huge
sword, shimmering in the cold winter sun and he just cut a
man in half. His hands and wrists were covered with blood
and he wore black clothes and armour. His feet were hidden
by boots made of leather and fur, maybe bear fur. He looked
strong and noble and he heard his cry and looked up into the
sky. Their eyes met and he could see that his eyes were
dark. The dark sharp eyes of a man, who knew that he didn't
belong and yet was here. He knew that he had a better place
to be and that he longed to be there. With another sharp cry
he flew another circle over the battlefield and away.  


Alanon slayed the man in front of him and looked up into the
sky, when he heard the eagle's cry. The huge bird sailed in
the sky high above him and seemed to watch him with sharp
eyes. He had seen eagles before, but none as big as this
majestic one. Huge wings spread to full size, while his head
turned to hold his gaze. With another cry the eagle turned
away and Alanon turned to face the fierce battle around him.
He smelled sweat and blood mixed to a strange odor that made
him sick to the stomach, when he thought about the smell of
the lovely hill-flowers back home. Yes, he hated being here,
but the land was young, and he was fighting for it like
everyone. He knew that if necessary he was ready to die for
the cause, for his King, for his Lord. He thought about the
legends that old general had told him, when he had come to
his house. The legends about the prophecy that the true king
of the land would rise again after a war and that the time
had now come. The time, when all men in the young kingdom
had to fight for him, spreading the new king's influence,
making the kingdom grow. He believed in what the general had
said, trusted the man he called his Lord more then anyone
else. Yes, if necessary he would die to make the prophecy
come true... His sword clashed against the one of an enemy
soldier with an iron sound. He looked into the young man's
eyes, when his attack made him stumble backwards. The other
was smaller than he was, about a foot smaller, and much less
muscled. He was still half a boy, lying at his feet now, the
sword ready to defend himself. Alanon turned around, cut off
another soldier's head who attacked him from behind, then
turned again to face the boy on the wet, muddy ground. His
blue eyes were filled with terror when Alanon raised his
sword. He let it fall down an inch away from the trembling
boy's head and bend down to look into his terrified eyes,
slowly filling with unbidden tears.
"Go home, boy. Don't make your mother cry over your death!"
He turned away and fought on. Fought on, because he knew
that the enemies wouldn't let him go, like he had let the
boy some minutes ago. He had to fight to get back home. Home
to her, to his reason to live, to fight another day! Back to
his love. To his Lilith! His sword slayed another man and he
hated it, this necessity of it. Blood flew through the air,
covering him, getting into his eyes, his nose, his mouth.
Suddenly the rest of the enemy-army fled. He saw some of his
men, who held up their swords and shouted wild war-cries
after the enemies. He had to join them, though the taste of
blood in his mouth and the scent of victory, the happiness
he felt about that, scarred his soul for life. This man was
not him!


He joined some other men, who walked over the battlefield to
look for wounded friends and to rob the bodies of the dead
enemies. He needed all the money he could get to send it
home, home to her, who waited for him. He smiled when he
thought about Lilith. Her long black hair, flying in the
wind, when they walked up the hills they loved so much. Her
laugh, light and like a beautiful melody to listen to and
her eyes, the deep brown eyes he loved so much... He bend
down to take up a small bag of coins he found on a dead
man's body. He looked inside and found that it was not much,
but enough. He closed it again and rolled the body from
another. He heard a low, painful sigh and looked into a pair
of frightened blue eyes.
"Didn't I tell you to go home, boy?" he asked when he
recognized the boy, lying on the ground. He just looked up
in fear and finally dared to ask.
"W... will you kill me now, Sir?" Alanon looked at the muddy
boy who lay to his feet, too afraid to move.
"How old are you." he finally asked and the boy looked away.

"F... fourteen, Sir." he answered.
"Why do you go to war? War's no good for a boy of your age."

"I know, Sir... I know now..."
"Stay here till nightfall, then follow your army. Go home
boy. Don't make your mother cry." he said and moved on, over
unmoving, dead bodies whose blood was still warm from the
fight. He smelled the blood, that made the fresh, cool air
stink. He saw his breath moving upwards towards the pale sky
in a thin, yet clearly visible white cloud. It was a cold
day. The cold slowly crept up his body, and his feet were so
cold they hurt. Yet he moved on over the field in the slowly
growing dark, for he knew he had to find money. Money that
he could sent to Lilith, so that she could buy food while he
was at war. He sighed and sent another small white cloud up
into the sky.
"Found something?" he heard a man shouting over the still
field.
"Nothing of importance. These bastards don't have anything
valuable on them! You?" he shouted back to the man some
hundred yards away. .
"Yeah! Here's pretty much! Stay where you are!" the other
man laughed and waved at him to come. Alanon smiled too and
hid the little coin-bag in his own. The other man's name was
Melkenor and he was about Alanon's age. He had no one
waiting back in the inlands and was a real soldier. Hard
like stone, huge and well-muscled, with many scars covering
his powerful body.
"How can you settle down? You're still young, you should see
the world, join the army... I saw you fight, Alanon, you can
fight! You could become General easily" he had said some
nights ago in their tent.
"I don't want to be General. I want to live in peace with my
girl. She's my reason to live, my reason to fight on... I
love her, she's the only one for me and she's only for me."

"Love's a game for the weak to play." Melkenor had said and
Alanon had smiled.
"I love and love makes me many times stronger!" he had
answered, while the other one had shaken his head in
disbelieve. "You'll remember my words someday. When you'll
meet your girl!" Alanon had said and the other one had
laughed once more.
"Girls! I don't want a girl! Give me a good sword and some
heads to cut off and I'm happy!"
"We'll wait and see..." Alanon had answered and they had
fallen asleep.
Now they were looking for money and gold together, on a
field that once had been beautiful. He had seen it from the
high mountain pass, some days ago, before the battle had
started. The ground had been covered thickly with soft green
grass, tickling ones toes when you walked over it without
boots. There had been flowers, delicate little yellow
flowers, blooming through the icy cold of winter, which
spread a smell like the one the flowers in his own garden up
in the inland hills had spread. They had reminded him of
home every night when he lay on the hard ground, making him
dream of Lilith and their stone house he had built to keep
her waiting for him.
The small river winding through the valley had been clear,
with fresh, ice-cold water, flowing fast and merrily through
it's stony bed. They had drunk from the river for days. Now
the green grass was trampled and turned into mud from
ignorant men's heavy boots. The small yellow flowers had
disappeared under dead heavy, armoured bodies, staining the
once beautiful valley forever with their dark blood. He knew
he would never smell their perfume again.
The clean water of the river had become red with blood,
carrying it down to the towns and the sea. Now no one would
be able to drink from the polluted river. All the
inhabitants of the towns would soon know that a terrible
battle had been fought up here and that many men had died.
Alanon could feel his heart ache when he thought about all
the men he had slain to survive, he had slain for his land,
because of the legend he had been told. In which he believed
so much. He silently prayed God would someday forgive him
his sins and lead his kingdom to glory.
"What is it man?" he heard Melkenor ask and realized he had
been staring at nothing for some time.
"Nothing, man. Just thought about... Oh, God damn it! We are
victorious!" he cried out in false happiness. Some other men
nearby also cheered and Melkenor had pulled out his sword
and hacked on a slain enemy, cheering over their victory...


When they returned to the camp another soldier pulled at
Melkenor's arm and dragged him into a corner, between two
barrels. The night slowly crept into the camp and some men
were busy collecting dry wood for fires.
"Hey Melkenor! You know who's coming down?" The man's voice
was high from excitement. Melkenor shook his head.
"Tell me, man. Who is it?"
"The... the Lord himself is coming." Melkenor's mouth
dropped and his eyes began to shine.
"The Lord?"
"Yeah! The King is coming to fight with his soldiers!" the
man squeaked. Alanon looked at the two excited men and had
to admit that these were some news. The Lord himself was
coming to fight... he felt something like excitement
himself. How long had he fought for this man, without ever
seeing him, just because he had wanted him to? Over a year.
Yes, he had been fighting for over a year. He remembered
clearly the cold morning of last January, when he had sat
inside his cold tent writing this letter to her, to his
love.

"Another year, I will be gone, the war is leading us so far
apart, my dear. I wish I could be with you, walking over the
hills we love, but I need to fight down here, you know this,
it's my duty. Wait for my, my love. Wait for me, I will come
back to you, as soon as I can! I'm sure the legends will
come true, I'm sure the prophecy the general talked about
will come to pass soon. I love you, Lilith, my Lilith. Wait
for me, I'll be back as soon as possible."

He looked at the two men who were smiling at each other
broadly.
"So the war will be over soon?" he said and the others
looked at him in surprise.
"Over?"
"Yes, why should the Lord come down here if the war's not
nearly won? Should he risk his life fighting at the front?"
The men stared at him.
"But... if the war's nearly over..."
"Yes! We'll be able to go home!" Alanon smiled at them, but
he saw the disappointment in their eyes. The two of them
were fighters, warriors, men who were born to serve their
Lord on the battlefields and die there. Alanon suddenly
realized that. They were soldiers, doing their work. What if
the war was over? Like Lilith for him, so the war was their
reason to live. They were men who had become used to kill
enemies. They wouldn't be satisfied with the
training-grounds in some keep or castle, for they had tasted
men's blood and would never forget the excitement of real
battle again... He had seen this wild flicker in Melkenor's
eyes when he had fought, and he could see that this other
man was of the same type. Huge, with broad shoulders and
hard muscles. He wouldn't be satisfied when peace finally
came, he wanted to kill.
"Home?" the other man asked and looked at him strangely.
"Yeah, he's the kind of guy, has a girl waiting at home and
all..." Melkenor told the other man and he nodded. Alanon
looked at them in surprise.
"You two are good soldiers, but believe me, peace is a
better solution. The legend will come true. Our king will
rise to be a great king and we will live in peace and
happiness in a huge kingdom." the two of them shook their
heads and walked off, happy about the Lord's coming and yet
unsure about what Alanon had told them about the end of the
war. Alanon walked back into his tent, he was exhausted from
the fights and fell into his bed without undressing. Some
seconds later he was asleep.

There's nothing but grey, wet mist around him. Seeping
through his clothes and boots, making him shiver. He stands
on a hill, a hill well known to him. He can feel the stony
ground under his feet and he sees the shapes of the huge
trees all around him. He knows this place well. He turns to
see the house in the valley below, but the mist covers the
valley completely, doesn't allow him to look at his home,
where she's waiting for him, waiting... A sudden happiness
strikes him. He's home! He'll stay here forever! He wants to
run down the hill to the house he has built to keep her
waiting, when the mist slowly lightens before him and he
sees a stone. A foreign stone, lit by one single sun beam,
standing upright in the ground. He suddenly realizes that he
stands in front of a grave. A huge pain fills his hole body,
seems to tear him apart, driving away all happiness he has
felt seconds before. Through upcoming, salty tears he can
see words on the stone and the pain increases, he knows,
it's a headstone on his grave, words carved in vain. The
pain forces him on hands and knees, he feels the fresh, wet
earth between his fingers and knows, all these wounds that
tear him apart now only heal when he's home. When Lilith
kisses them away, with her soft red lips...

Alanon sat up in the middle of the night, sweat plastering
his hair against his head and back, eyes widened, terror
within them. His breathing went hard and he felt very cold.
He slowly stood up and ran his hand through his hair. This
dream had been a nightmare. Melkenor came into the tent with
a lamp that filled the narrow place with a warm golden light
in an instant. He looked at Alanon standing in the tent,
sweating and worried.
"What is it?" he asked and only now Alanon seemed to realize
he had entered. He looked at him and the troubled look on
his face vanished, behind a mask.
"Nothing. I just... I had a nightmare." The huge black
haired man said and laid down on his bed again.
"A nightmare? What was it about?" Melkenor asked him and
Alanon shook his head, ran his hand through his hair again
and sighed.
"I... I saw my own grave. I felt like an inner pain was
tearing me apart... I think I need to go home... see Lilith
again..."
"Home? The Lord is coming, Alanon, you can't go home now."
"I know... but I feel, that if I don't go home soon,
something terrible will happen. When I dreamed... Now one
will remember my face or my name, when I die, Melkenor. I
will die if I stay here, I saw my grave in my dream.
Melkenor, I need to go to Lilith."
"To Lilith? The war's not won, you aren't allowed to go,
Alanon."
"I know, but I know that all these wounds only heal when I'm
home."
"What wounds?"
"The ones that will kill me. I need to go, Melkenor."
"You are a soldier, Alanon. You aren't allowed to go."
"I need to go, don't you understand?"
"I'm a soldier of his majesty, and his orders are clear. No
one leaves until the war is won! I can't let you go,
Alanon." Alanon nodded. Melkenor was a true soldier and
loyal to the crown like no other. He would follow every
order given, even if it was to kill his own mother, he would
do it without question. He wouldn't let him go, Alanon knew
this.
"How long till the Lord comes?"
"He'll arrive soon enough..."

Alanon lay awake for a long time. He knew he had to go,
leave the army. The dream had frightened him very much. He
simply knew something terrible would happen soon. Maybe
tomorrow... He sighed silently. Melkenor slept on the bed
next to him, but he never slept deeply and could be woken
easily. He turned around and tried to sleep, but sleep
wouldn't come. He had to do something... suddenly he heard a
soft noise just outside the tent. The cracking of a twig,
nothing more, but it was enough to alert him. He rose slowly
so that he didn't make a sound. When he stood he took up the
long dagger laying next to his bed and crept to the tent's
entrance. He could see a shadow moving along the lines of
tents in the gloomy darkness. Suddenly he saw steel flashing
in the in the cold light of the stars high above him. The
shadow passed Alanon's tent silently, without realizing he
was standing in the entrance. Without making a sound Alanon
stepped behind the figure, pulled out his dagger and placed
it on the figure's throat. The figure froze. Suddenly Alanon
realized how small it was.
"Didn't I tell you to go after your army?" he asked the boy.

"Yeah, Sir..." he answered in a whisper.
"Why are you here then?"
"H... how could I ever reach my army on foot? I need a
horse."
"And for a horse you creep into our camp. That's folly. Had
you woken any other man in this camp, he would have killed
you in an instant. You're still in the outskirts, boy, how
do you think you could reach the horses in the center of the
camp if you wake half the camp by now? I'll spare your life
for the last time now, run after your army and go home.
Don't make your mother cry." He slowly put the dagger away
and turned the frightened boy around.
"After the army, go now." He whispered and pushed the boy
down the line of tents. When the boy had disappeared in the
darkness he entered the tent again. He was about to lie down
when he saw that Melkenor was awake.
"You let an enemy escape" the man said coldly.
"What?"
"I heard every word, Alanon. You're a traitor to the Lord.
How could you let an enemy escape?" Melkenor sat up and
watched Alanon coldly.
"He was a boy, Melkenor. No more than a simple, frightened
boy. I spared his life, because I pitied him. He could have
been my son, Melkenor. He could have been your son, too."
"He chose to fight against us, Alanon. Had he stayed home,
and you would have spared him, when we marched into his
village, ok, but he chose to fight us. He has killed our men
and you let him go. You are a traitor, Alanon!" he stood up
and gripped the hilt of his sword.
"Would you have killed him? A boy?"
"He's an enemy! Yes, I would have killed him, Alanon, but
didn't you tell me you wanted to go home? Run, run home now,
Alanon. You're something like a friend to me, therefore I'll
promise to wait with the pursuit till dawn. You're a
traitor, Alanon and traitors are to be executed. If I find
you, you're going to die, Alanon." Melkenor lay down on his
bed again and turned around. Alanon looked at him in
disbelief. Yes, he had let the boy go, but a traitor? Should
he be a traitor for sparing a small boys life? He swallowed
hard. Melkenor believed so and this man would do what he had
told him. He would go after him - and kill him, if he
couldn't escape. He packed his things as fast as he could.
When he left the tent he saw the image of the headstone
before his eyes. The terrible thing he had feared, had
happened... The night cloaked him from unfriendly eyes as he
left the camp. He ran down the snowy pass into the valleys.
In about a week he would be home... if Melkenor didn't find
him earlier.

Lilith was sitting at the desk in the main room of the stone
house Alanon had built for her. The room was comfortable,
with some chairs and a big fireplace. On the walls hung some
carpets she had made. Some showed pictures of the landscape
around the house, the green hills covered with many coloured
flowers in spring time, or the river that passed their
house, with the white-covered mountain peaks in the
background. Others just showed different patterns. The
carpets added to the room's cosiness. In another corner
stood a shelf with two books Alanon had bought and some
other things. One was a volume of legends, written down by
an minstrel long ago. Some monk had copied the minstrel's
book and Alanon had bought it though it had been expensive.
He loved legends, she knew. A legend had driven him into
this mad war, a glorious one, one of the army-generals had
told him, when he passed by their house this night nearly
one and a half years ago. She remembered it clearly. It had
been late summer, the leaves had turned golden already and
Alanon and she had sat on the bench before the front door.
There still was this hard round ledge in it's back, the
ledge that had struck in their back all the time. Alanon had
wanted to repair the bank, the next morning, but he never
got to do it. She remembered the old man riding towards them
on his huge black horse. He had been old, yes, but he still
looked strong, maybe even stronger than Alanon, and his blue
eyes still flickered lively from under his helm. He had
jumped off his horse's back and had come towards them. He
had looked like a warrior, with his long sword at his side,
the hilt's leather worn, from long use. Alanon had asked him
to sit and the man had told them about the legend, the
prophecy that would soon come to pass.
"A king, THE king will rise again, after a war, it is said.
The one and only king will rise to unknown glory, his
kingdom will spread and wealth will be present for
uncountable generations to come. The prophecy of old will
soon come to pass, young lad, for the Wise-Men have seen it
in the stars. A war will start and after that our king will
rule as the one and only king over many lands." She
remembered the look in Alanon's eyes, the burning wish to be
part in this prophecy. The general had stayed with them that
night, telling Alanon about the prophecy and legend of old.
She hadn't believed a single word, but Alanon, with his love
for stories had believed the man, and now... Lilith sighed.
Yes, now he was gone. Gone to fight a bloody war, only
because an old man had told him their Lord would become
king... She sighed and took up a sheet of paper, lying in
front of her. Slowly she read Alanon's newest letter again,
loving every word, burning it into her mind, never to forget
it. He loved her, wanted to be with her, but he had his
duties and beliefs, too. She was convinced he would return
to her, after he had realized that the man had lied. That
there was no legend of old and no prophecy, but till that
day she had to wait. Wait patiently for him to return. She
took up a sheet of paper, yellow at the edges from lying in
the sun too long, and a pen. She covered it with the deep
blue ink from the little round bottle standing to her left,
and began to write her answer. She wrote how much she wished
he would be here, how much she wanted to hold him in her
arms again and how much she loved him... She finished the
letter and was about to seal it, when someone knocked on the
door. She sighed deeply, stood up and walked over the
creaking, uneven wood floor to the front door. It was a cold
night and she was all alone in the stone house.
"Who's out there?" she asked through the closed door.
"His Highness, Lord of the Kingdom. Open woman" a harsh
voice came from outside and Lilith opened the door quickly,
lowering herself to the ground before the man outside.
"Your highness." she said humbly. The man walked past her
into the main room, where he sat down on one of the more
comfortable chairs.
"Stand up, woman." he said and she obeyed, looking out
through the open door. There were many men outside on the
backs of their horses. All of them soldiers. Her heart beat
faster. Soldiers? Was the war over? Would Alanon be with
them? No, their armour was too shiny and new to be coming
from the rough fights at the front.
She turned to face the Lord, who sat in Alanons favourite
chair before the bright, crackling fire and watched her
approach. He was neither beautiful nor ugly though Lilith
found him unattractive with his broad lips and watery blue
eyes. He wore rich clothes made from red, smooth looking
cloth and black tight leather boots. He was the exact
opposite to Alanon, wearing his blond well-tended hair short
and being smaller and not so well muscled. Nevertheless he
was an imposing figure. His eyes had the self-confident look
of one who knew what he was worth and his face had a nice
shape, with a straight nose and soft skin.
"And you are?" he asked with a deep voice, that surprised
Lilith.
"I'm Lilith, your Grace, Lady of the house."
"Where's your husband?"
"At the front, serving his Grace in the war." The man seemed
satisfied with the answer.
"We're staying here tonight, Lilith." Lilith nodded and had
to think about how much food she had left. She really hoped
to have enough at hand for all those men.
"Of course, your Grace." she curtseyed and with his leave
turned to the kitchen to look what food and drink she had
left. The kitchen was a room next to the main room,
separated with a blue curtain made of rough cotton. It had
two cupboards, a table and a fireplace, where Lilith baked
bread or cooked the rice-soups Alanon liked so much. At the
walls hung kitchen-knives, a soup ladle and other utensils
needed for cooking. Lilith found a bottle of good wine in
one of the cupboards that she could serve his Grace without
embarrassment. It was Alanon's favourite wine, the last
bottle left... She would have to buy a new one, before he
returned. She opened it and returned into the main-room with
the only two glasses they possessed. She put them in front
of the Lord and his general, who had entered and now sat
next to the royal, and poured wine into the glasses.
"Bring us something to eat as well, Lilith, We're hungry
after a day's ride." She nodded and returned into the
kitchen. She hurried to wash some apples, the last left from
last shopping and to get bread. She would have to bake
tonight so that the men could have fresh one tomorrow
morning. She fetched butter, a little pot of marmalade and
sausages. Then she returned into the main room, fetching
plates on her way in. She saw that no man had come in and
was happy about it. If another general would have asked for
a glass of wine, she would have to tell him that she
possessed no other glass and that would be so embarrassing
for her. She put food and plates on a small wooden table
next to the Lord and wanted to return into the kitchen to
start to cook, when she heard that the men were talking
about the war. She put down the food slowly, listening about
what they were talking.
"... I think we can smash them with a last effort." The
general said. "They are weakened and retreating, if we
manage to encircle them in one of the mountain-passes, I
think we should have no problem in destroying all of them."

"That's good news. I would like this war to end this summer
at the latest. I'm tired of war. It's no more fun thinking
about new tactics, when the enemies are retreating and there
are no real battles anymore. There is no glory to win if you
chase the last enemy survivors." He took a sip from his
glass and Lilith felt his gaze on her back, as she returned
into the kitchen. The war would be over soon. Alanon would
return. She felt a smile on her face. Alanon would return! A
deep happiness filled her and she felt like dancing and
singing. They would be together soon. United once again. She
looked out of the window and up the dark road he would
return on. He would walk into view through this narrow cleft
between the hills. She imagined the day. A warm summer
evening, when the sun shone warmly from a deep blue sky. She
nearly could feel the sunbeams prickle on her skin, for she
would work in the garden next to the house. She could smell
the sweet smell of the roses blooming along the fence in
deep red and delicate rose and the green of the grass would
be the greenest ever seen. She could nearly hear his
footfalls, when he came up the road. Tall, well muscled,
like the last time she had seen him. His long, black hair
would fly in the upcoming warm summer wind, carrying the
smell of wild herbs and berries, mixed with the perfume of
wild flowers and the garden's roses. The birds would sing
their most beautiful song and she would run up the hill to
meet him, seeing him throw his shield away and run to meet
her with this huge smile of his...
"Lilith?" a voice cut through the perfect picture,
shattering it into a million little pieces that vanished
before they hit the ground. She could have cried out, but
she didn't, just turned around to face the man.
"Your Grace?"
"I wondered if you had another bottle of this wine."
"I'm sorry, your Highness, it was the last one." The nodded
and turned.
"No Problem." Lilith was alone again, sitting in an empty
dark kitchen, that was lit only by the dying fire. She
slowly wiped away upcoming tears, feeling lonely and alone.

"I wish you would be here." She whispered to herself and
walked over to one of the cupboards. She took out everything
she needed and began to make the dough for the bread,
whishing the men would leave soon. That night Lilith had
enough to do, showing the general and the Lord their beds.
There was only one in the house, but she made a comfortable
mattress of the carpets on the walls. She was kept busy with
tending the soldier's horses and serving the soldiers and
the Lord, bringing them food and drink. It wasn't till late
at night, when a million silver shining stars covered the
clear winter sky that she could go into the kitchen and bake
bread for the following day. This would be a long night, a
very long night...
It was late at night, nearly morning and Lilith just took
the last bread out off the fire. She took a knife from the
wall and began to scrape the ashes off the warm loaf.
Suddenly she heard the curtain being pulled aside and looked
up in the gloom of the kitchen and saw a man standing in the
door.
"Lilith?" he asked whispering. She recognized his voice and
stood up, leaving the knife on the table.
"Your Highness?" she asked. He entered, pulling the curtain
shut behind him. He came forward till he stood in front of
her. She could smell he was drunk, and remembering the
bottles of wine he had ordered and which now lay in the main
room around his chair, she knew why. He gripped her arm
tightly and she nearly cried out.
"You're a real beauty, Lilith." He said and bent forward to
kiss her lips. She backed away.
"No." she said, but he came after her.
"What? Do you refuse me, your Lord a kiss?" he asked, his
voice a mix of amusement and anger.
"I'm for Alanon, and only for Alanon." Lilith said and he
gripped her harder.
"I don't mind if you're willing or not, bitch. I'm your Lord
and you'll do as I command." Now the anger was clearly heard
out of his voice and his watery blue eyes flashed with both
lust and anger. He gripped her hard and pulled her with
astonishing strength to the kitchen table. He kissed her
lips, then her face and her neck. All the time he held her
tight, not allowing her to back away again. Then, he pushed
her onto the table, Lilith landed hard against its edge and
fell to the ground. Tears of pain and fear came into her
eyes and she felt for her back. What she felt astonished and
frightened her. She could feel steel, sharp cold steal,
leading to an handle made of wood, worn smooth from long
using. She pulled out the point of the knife that had
stabbed her back and nearly cried out. The Lord was on the
ground in front off her. His hands were on her legs,
caressing her skin. She kicked at him and jumped to her
feet. She hit him in the face with her fist and he fell
backwards.
"No!" she said hard, she felt blood dripping out of the
wound on her back, sucking through the simple cloth her
dress was made of. She felt she was breathing hard, with all
force she ordered herself to ignore the pulsating pain in
her back. The Lord came to his feet again and looked into
her eyes. He was drunk, yes, but not completely. She saw
this flicker in his eyes that told her he knew exactly what
he was doing. He came forward and she slashed with her
knife.
"No! I won't be raped by you! I'm for him and only for him."
she said coldly and held her knife out in defence.
"You want to stab me?"
"If I need to" she said and was suddenly aware of the
kitchen's coldness despite the fire burning low in its
center. She felt the cool night's breeze coming through the
window, blowing the cloth curtains in front of it. It
caressed her skin with sudden coldness that made her shiver.
It carried the smell of winter, ice covered mountain tops
and frozen rivers, cold and clear. She sucked it in and it
gave her strength. Suddenly the Lord jumped forward with
unexpected quickness, his hands ready to grip her again. She
closed her eyes, half expecting to feel his hands around her
wrists or arms, when, without thinking, she slashed at the
man's hands. His painful cry made her open her eyes and then
she saw him, holding his left hand. She saw blood dripping
to the ground and then she saw them lying there, two of his
fingers! She backed away to the window, when the Lord began
to scream. Soon the officers were standing in the dark
kitchen. They saw him standing in the middle of the room,
holding his hand, while blood fell onto the ground in
streams. Then they saw Lilith standing at the window, the
bloody knife still in her hands.
"Kill her! Kill this fucking bitch!" the Lord cried and ran
out of the kitchen. Lilith looked at the men in shock and
when she saw that they drew their swords ready to follow the
Lord's order she jumped out of the window. The glass
shattered around her, as she landed hard on the frozen
ground. The men were right behind here. As fast as she could
she jumped to her feet and ran towards the woods covering
the hills she knew so well.
"Alanon!" she cried in her head. "Alanon, where are you?"

Alanon watched the street from behind a thick bush. He was
nearly home. A bit more than a day's march and he would be
home, home with Lilith. He had spent the last week off all
roads in the wilderness. It had been hard to find safe paths
down the mountains and sometimes he had heard footsteps not
far behind him that showed that Melkenor was following him,
or at least he thought so. After leaving the mountains
behind he had to travel through the even more unfriendly
woods. Through grey trees, with no leaves and thick
undergrowth, the thorns of which tore at his pants and
boots. The nights he had spent in the freezing cold under
some thorny bush or up in the branches of a tree. He hadn't
dared to lit a fire to keep him warm, for the shine would
have shown Melkenor where he was and he knew that if the two
of them would meet again, only one would survive this
meeting.
Alanon listened carefully and looked around; it was still
early in the morning and the shadows were long, keeping the
darkness under the trees a little longer. This darkness
which was the only cover Alanon had. He hurried forward
through the rough woods until, around midday, he heard many
horses coming down the road. He climbed up a tree quickly,
hiding between the branches and looked down onto the road.
First he saw nothing, for a soft grey mist covered the
ground, but then he saw many riders in shiny armour, covered
only slightly with a thin layer of ashes, riding towards
him. He saw the Lord's banner flying high above the men and
he knew that he saw the approaching of his Lord, his King.
The one whose legends had driven him to war, whom he served,
for whom he would die. He looked down and saw the man riding
in the front. He wore no helm and his short, blond hair flew
as he rode. His face was pale and his eyes were flashing
with deep anger. He saw that he held his horse's reins with
only one hand, his right. His left hand was thickly bandaged
and he saw that he had only three fingers left. Seeing the
Lord looking so disagreeable made him sad, he had thought
the man would look more likeable. He didn't look like a
noble, great king, predestined to rule over a great kingdom,
to fight heroically for the glory of his kingdom, but like
some kind of arrogant, grumpy baron, who would run away at
the first sight of danger. The company rode by without
seeing him and Alanon climbed down the tree. The mist
increased and he was happy about it, for it gave him more
cover and it made his footfalls less audible, too. That
night he rested between the branches of an other tree. He
was nearly home, but exhausted from the days walk. Tomorrow
morning he would be with Lilith again. It didn't matter if
he would see her this night or tomorrow morning. Maybe it
would be even better to arrive fresh and not deadly tired.
He tried to lay as comfortable as possible and soon fell
asleep.

He's in front of the headstone again. The grey mist slowly
disappears and leaves a cold sun shining down on him, her
beams without the tiniest bit of warmth. He feels a great
emptiness inside that mixes up with the deep pain. The grave
in front of him is so fresh, he can smell the fresh, spicy
earth between his fingers. He tries to wipe away the tears
that slowly run down his cheeks in wet, salty streams but he
isn't able to take his hands off the earth. Suddenly he
hears the footfalls on the stony ground and a cruel voice
from behind him. "Everything ends... Everything dies... now
you know the legends only lived in his lies." He tries to
turn around, to face the man, but he isn't able to do it.
The headstone, a blurred image in front of his eyes, forces
him to look at it. But the only thing he really is aware of
are the tears running down his cheeks, leaving cold paths
behind. He feels them dripping on the ground and mix with
the fresh earth. Everything ends...everything dies...

With a scream Alanon woke up. He felt cold and sick to his
stomach. Without thinking he jumped off the tree, broke
through the bushes onto the road. Safety wasn't important
anymore. The only thing that counted now was speed.
"Everything ends... Everything dies..."  he heard the cruel
voice ringing in his head. Dawn drew near as he ran up the
long and winding road. He saw the river and trees by the
hills they lived on, recognizing every familiarity, filling
him with happiness. Yes, he was home, but there was
something dark and dreadful chewing on the back of his mind.
A feeling that something was extremely wrong that something
terrible had happened... Suddenly he saw it, and with a cry
ran forward. A thin dark column of smoke rising up into the
sky. He ran around the narrow bit between the two hills and
stopped, thunderstruck. He let his shield fall down and took
a step backward.
"No..." he said unbelieving as he looked down on his home.
He had returned. Yes, he had returned - to find the ruins of
his life. He walked down the road towards what had been his
house. A blackened pile of stones and ashes. He felt a deep
emptiness as he walked into what had once been the main
room. Nothing was left, the chairs were burned like the
carpets Lilith had made. He walked into what had been their
bedroom and sat down on the ashes. They were barely warm,
but for him the heat was hotter than fire. He stood up and
walked around on the ashes that once had been his house. He
entered the kitchen and saw a blackened knife laying on the
ground. Lilith's kitchen-knife. He took it up and as he bent
to do it, he saw something else lying near by. A signet ring
on the ashes. He took it up and wiped away the thin black
layer. He clearly saw the Lord's sign on the ring, let it
fall down as if it had burned him. He knew his Lord betrayed
him, his reason to live was taken away... he looked at the
blackened knife and suddenly a unimaginable fear tore his
heart apart.
"Lilith!" he screamed and ran out of what had been the
kitchen. He looked around and then he saw this figure lying
near the edge of the woods. His breathing stopped for a
second and he walked towards the figure, lying on the
ground. An arrow in its back. First he walked, then he
walked faster and finally he ran towards the woman laying
face downwards on the dew sprinkled grass. He knelt down
next to her and turned her around. With a painful scream he
took her into his arms as if he didn't want to let her go.
Shaken in agony he felt tears running down his cheeks.
"Lilith, Lilith!" he cried and cradled her in his arms.
"Lilith, wake up. Wake up, my love." He whispered into her
ear, but Lilith did not answer. She looked at him through
wide open, dead eyes. Her black hair hanging in her face. He
put it back lovingly, kissed her cold lips, ran his
trembling hand over her cheek.
"No, Lilith, wake up. Please, dear, wake up." He whispered
in agony, but Lilith didn't say anything, just lay in his
arms. Alanon trembled hard and cried like he had never cried
before. The only one who had ever loved him was lying dead
in his arms now. When his tears had ceased and dried, he
felt nothing, a black emptiness filling his mind and heart.
The morning had passed and the sun had risen high into the
sky. The wind carried the smell of coming spring, but Alanon
didn't realize it. He sat on the ground with the dead Lilith
in her arms and starred into nothingness. Around noon he
stood up, took Lilith into his arms and carried her up the
hills they loved for the last time. A warm sun was shining
down on him as he sat down on the plateau circled with
trees. They had sat here often in the summer, watching the
sun rise or fall. He remembered their first kiss, taking
place on this very plateau and wanted to cry, but couldn't.
The emptiness inside filled him completely. He looked down
on Lilith's face, the terrified open eyes... He ran his hand
over her cheek, and looked at her. She wore the simple
cotton dress he had bought her just before he had gone to
war. He ran his hand through her long black hair, brought it
into order. He swallowed hard, when he closed her eyes,
kissed her good-bye. She was the only one who'd ever loved
him. He looked down into her now peaceful looking face,
watched her slender body and licked his lips with a dry
tongue.
"I'm crushed inside, darling, my life. It... it shall end
here." He bent down and kissed her lips again. Shocked about
how cold they were. Then he saw it, the stone lying not far
away. The headstone he had seen in his dreams. He walked
over and took it up. Yes, this was the headstone he had
seen...
He looked back to Lilith, lying on the ground, peacefully,
as if she was sleeping and placed it behind her head.
"Headstone on your grave, words carved in vain...", he
whispered and felt tears and anger swelling up inside him.
"Everything ends... everything dies... now you know the
legends only lived in his lies."
"I left you waiting for me, Lilith and now... now I'm back
and you're gone... now the Darkness..." he swallowed hard
and felt all the anger and agony coming up. He took her into
his arms again, her head fell back, her arms dangling down
and that made him even angrier. She was dead, God damn it.
She was dead!
"Now the Darkness covers me!" he screamed in agony. His
shout echoed in the hills, he heard it repeated again and
again and again. What should he do now? Lilith was dead, his
reason to live was taken away forever. He didn't know and
just kept on screaming, for if he kept silent he would turn
mad for sure. Everything he had believed in, everything he
loved was gone. He was alone, without somebody to love at
his side, without a home, without something to believe in.
He refused to believe still, the Lord would become a great
noble king. The man for whom he would have given his life,
had destroyed it. He kept on shouting, listening to the
echoes in the hills and the cracking inside, when his heart
shattered into million little pieces...


He flew over the hills of the inland. These humans had
destroyed the peace of his mountains and he couldn't stand
the smell of blood and death anymore. Suddenly a scream tore
the silence apart. He saw a man standing on a plateau,
holding a beautiful woman in his arms. He flew above them
and recognized him at once. This was the soldier he had seen
fighting in the valley a week or so ago. Yes, there was no
doubt, he was the noble warrior, who had a better place to
be in. He saw the house, burned to ashes, down in the valley
and knew that now this man had nothing left. Suddenly he saw
a movement between the trees at the edge of the plateau. The
noble man screamed on in agony and didn't seem to notice
this other man, taking up his bow, an arrow placed on the
string. The man in the trees let the arrow fly and suddenly
there was silence. He saw the noble man stumble back, the
arrow sticking deep inside his chest. He looked at the man
between the trees as he fell back, the woman still holding
tightly in his arms, as if never to let her go again. He saw
him landing on the fresh spicy smelling earth, holding the
woman tightly, when he closed his eyes. Then he saw him...
smile