The Crow and the Kelpie

Under the moon so pale a bright, against the void with stars at night. The wind blowing so easily still, the night bird gifting a peaceful trill. Weary, worn, aching feet, tramp along till he and his journey's end meet. Urning for rest, food and sleep, this lone traveler remembers his path to keep. To the inns and the bars of his oh sweet Scotland, from the path he walks through dirt, grass and sand. As he walked, pushing through a sleep spell, it was about to be made clear that not all was well.

This poor soul had been up at dawn and had walked till the sun was no longer visible. The moon was a bright one much to this man's delight, he knew it would have been a hassle trying to trudge through the forests and rugged pathways in complete darkness. The wind was blowing softly against his face and he welcomed it having been under the hot sun for hours on end. His canteen was empty and his tongue was dry and his whole body felt like a withered flower. But he persisted, he knew he was nearly at his journeys end and if he kept going he would be there relatively soon.

The thought of a warm meal and bed and swig of sweet ale made the feel of his aching bones, sweat soaked brow, and the churn in his stomach disappear. He looked up at the gleaming stars that he remembers counting in vain when he was a young lad and smiled as he sniffed the fresh night air. He was pulled from his serenity when he heard a faint sound of a 'clip clop' in a direction he could not discern.

After listening for a continuation of the strange noise he blew it off and went to relight the lantern he just now remembers holding. He takes out a flint chip and his knife and strikes the blade against the flint. When the humble fire is lit he shoves the flint back into his pocket and sheaths his blade, before putting that away as well.

When he lifts up his lantern, almost falling backward at what he saw. There, standing not one hundred feet away was the barely visible form of a horse. It was a beautiful beast dark, graceful as it inched its way towards this man. The man smiled at the horse and walked towards it as well, holding out his hand. The horse trotted up to him and brayed quietly. The man petted the damp black fur on the horse's neck. The creature was intrancing with it's shimmery coat and flowing mane, it's eyes seemed to offer the relief his aching body needed. The man pondered mounting the black wonder he saw before him and using it to ride the rest of the way to his destination.

The more he thought the more the idea seemed to work it's way into his mind with the sweet whisper of ease. Eventually the man consented and mounted the beautiful animal, but once he did this he felt suddenly uneasy about the air around him and the being beneath him. The steed pawed at the ground with it's hooves and brayed something deep and guttural. The man went to let go of the horse's mane which he had grabbed into for support, to pet the beast gently on the neck once again but he found his hands unmoving. He could not release his grip no matter how hard he tried and as he was noticing this he felt the horse walking forward. He did not command the horse to do so and so he pulled against its mane to halt it but the only response he received was the feeling of the beast picking up it's pace. The man hadn't an idea on what he had done in mounting this creature.

O>~<O>~<O

A crow glided over head of the black steed and the confused and scared man atop it. It cawed and continued it's flight to it’s own destination. The bird flew above the grass that bended and swayed in the smooth wind under the moon. The crow flapped its wings gracefully to ease its landing, perching on a small stone wall that was at the top of the steeple, where a steel bell hung.

This bird has a job, a message to bring and make sure it is delivered. It caws and warbles repeatedly, drawing out a few men every now and then to see what all the awful ruckus was at the ghastly time of night. Everytime this would happen the bird would just pause its song of secret doom and warning and stare at them till they left to go back and continue their slumber. Then, once again, the crow would resume it’s awful tune.

The bird stopped when it saw a dark cloud forming high above the town, spreading out like spilled ink on white paper. The crow cocked its head to the side as it looked up at the darkening sky and knew his mistress had heard his call of readiness. She had come to deliver the wrath upon the town that had housed the men that disturbed tombs and graves of the souls that she once guided into the next life.

The crow took to the sky and flew back to its counterpart. As the crow started its flight away from the town it heard the faint screams and shouts behind it, it paid no mind.

O>~<O>~<O

The black horse was a black blur as it sped through fields and farms, dead set on a mission. The man on its back tried to pull his grip from the beast's mane but to no avail, the horse only seemed to stride faster. He screamed and continued to struggle to get off not caring if he fell but all efforts failed and no prayer was answered.

The horse bolted into a thicket of mossy trees and bushes and thorns that tore at his skin leaving small scrapes all over his body. The air seemed to become more thick and moist as they bolted through the forest. When he was finally able to see through the thick mass of leaves and branches, he realized that they were in a more marsh-like area, the smell was putrid and the look of the place was fitting for the smell.

The horse skillfully weaved around trees and little puddles and over small hills, all the while the man was more horrified by the beast's intentions, he knew this could not be an ordinary steed. The horse leapt over a surprisingly big log in their path, the man jolting on top of the horse uncomfortably.

The horse picked up speed, heading towards the midst of the swamp they were riding through. The man can see in front of them and he feels a sense of dread in his stomach that is rightfully there. The horse gets closer and closer, then, with one single, dooming leap the horse launches into the air and then down into the water.

The man’s screams were cut off by the impact and he’s holding his breath. He can’t let go still, he can’t get out, can’t get away. The horse's eyes glow an eerie red that is the only thing that is seen through the murky, dark water. He can’t breathe, he needs air, his lungs are burning, his head is getting fuzzy and black spots are dancing in his eyes. He has to breathe, and so he tries out the instinct in his mind and his lungs fill with water and it’s only a few seconds of pain and incredibly gut wrenching stress until it’s over.

The crow had been flying overhead watching this. When the horse disappeared into the water the crow took a perch on a branch that was connected to a tree that overlooked the water in which the horse had plunged into. It watched with its beady emerald green eyes as something emerged from the water.

It first saw a head poking up out of the swamp water but it wasn’t the head of a horse… It was the head of a human. As the being walked towards the crow out of the water more features were visible. The human was tall and lanky with long, wet, curly bangs hanging down in front of his face and over one eye. Both eyes burned a threatening red and he wore no smile on his pale face. His black pants and thin white long sleeved shirt were soaking wet, drops of water dripped to the ground as he walked. When he was completely above the water he continued to walk towards shore, walking on top of the water like he weighed nothing.

Then the human spoke in an echoey yet raspy voice. “Did the mistress claim her justice?” The crow cawed and nodded and received a nod in return. Then, without another word the human walked into the swamp, disappearing into the trees.