The Tale of the Darkstalker

Roaring across the waters hands that grabbed at the hull, the pinewood water steed sped through the mist towards its destiny.

At the head of the mighty vessel was a man. Larger than life, he was. Braver than any valiant knight for miles, the man wore a beard and cloak fit for a king. His coat of mail and shining armor glistened in the light of Heavens lantern. He was a warrior, a prince, and he did not sail alone.

A woman, taller than most and stronger still, also clad in armor and mail, sailed beside him proudly, dark locks flowing in the oceans great breath.

The two ran the ship and its crew, sailing together with honor and valor. They sailed for ten days and ten nights, searching for the creature that would lead them to glory. The fearsome Darkstalker.      

On the tenth night, they came to the edge. Where the ocean met the sky. The crew let the weight fall and hold their steed steady upon the black void of reflected stars. They waited, watching the ocean fall over the edge and into nothingness until their patience wore thin. They wanted a battle this night. 

The woman, with a huff of determination, took her bow from her back and notched an arrow. Blessed by Merlin himself, the arrow would hit its target no matter what or where it was. Exhaling, she released the arrow and observed as it sliced through the air and into the nothing. 

Silence took over the decks like a chilling autumn breeze. 

A breeze with a promise of winter.    

Not one soul spoke. Not one soul breathed for what felt like an eternity until at last, a shrieking roar devoured the silence. 

Men fell to the decks, ears bleeding. The man in armor rushed to the rail along with the woman, sword and bow drawn. They prayed to their God and watched as the stars beyond the edge began to move to form a large beast. Larger than anything the man or woman had seen in their lives.     

Black as the night sky, the stars seemed to outline its shape, making it childsplay for the pair as they attacked the star beast. The terrible Darkstalker. 

The battle was legendary. They would tell the tale for generations. It lasted two days, it did, and on the third day, with a final blow from the man's mighty sword, the beast was defeated. Wounds glowing like distant galaxies, it went down like a fallen star. Its blood poured from its body like liquid sunlight. Magical in its properties, its blood could heal and strengthen anything. Even a village ill with plague.

The crew went out on smaller water steeds and gathered the blood from the beast in bottles and barrels before returning back to their leaders.

Victorious, they pulled the weight up and began the journey home. Back across the waters hands, pulling them steadily over its black mass of a body.