Some men were known heroes, famed for their bravery and dashing looks. Others were vile creatures, cretins of the worst sort, parading around in dark shadows, ever willing to strike an easy target. Yet some were more different still, not fitting either description and living a life significantly less impactful. Lucan was thus.
A soldier of the Western army, hailing from the lands where pines grew thick beneath barren mountain tops and where kings quarreled with lords about every patch of dirt they held dominion over. Lucan was no commander, nor was he a captain or a knight. He was a soldier, a brute. Arrow fodder and spear-feed, a pair of legs to carry some scraps of armor, who might protect a man far more important than he. Though it seemed all a rather depressing way of living, Lucan rarely complained, for even though he was a soldier, one day not long ago he had been a farmer and he knew that that was much harder than the way he lived now. Long days he toiled in the fields, dragging along an ancient ox who'd much rather graze than work. Always it would rain when he had no need of it and it'd soak him to his bones until they too shook and shivered. Yet in the summers not a drop would fall and again Lucan would stand in his field cursing whoever's job it was to bring the rain.
Still, hard work made him the man he was today, tall and gruff, with iron muscles strengthening his shoulder, chest and arms. His long legs too showed the fruits of his labor, though his belly remained soft and full (without question the fault of his mothers cooking). His chestnut hair he kept trimmed just above his shoulders and ever since he joined the army he had been growing his first beard, which to his surprise came in much thicker and far more red than he'd imagined. He had been told he needed the beard by his commander; Cormac. "Yes, you're built like a bear and share not only its size but its strength too, still, that face of yours is far too friendly and your nature is sweet as a kitten... grow a beard Lucan."
Lucan took all the advice he received quickly to heart, especially when it came from such a well seasoned warrior as Cormac, who had fought many a battle and wore a scar to tell the tale of each. In that world Lucan was quite out of place and never was there time to catch ones breath. War raged on all throughout the land and Cormac's Battalion got sent to and fro, to bring the fight to the kings enemies. Though his mother had stashed him away from the war and its armies, always in search for able bodies to fight the fight, still they had found him working tirelessly on his farm. As his mothers frightened tears streamed down her face Lucan smiled at her gently and bid her farewell. It had all proved quite an adventure, as he had hoped.
* * *
"As far as I'm concerned, these treks we make are as much use to the king as a crown made of pig-shit to set on his shiny golden head." Without rest Conn complained, as only he could and stomped through the wet mud ahead of Lucan, who trailed not far behind. His back was bent and his shoulders sagged, Conn was not an impressive looking man and standing so close to Lucan's stature did him no favors.
"I don't know Connie, if they send us this way than surely there ought to be a good reason?" Lucan was merry this morning, as he was most mornings. He had been sent on a scouting expedition away from the camp along with his best friend, Conn. Together they were tasked to seek the location of a woodland witch, who was said to live in the forest they were struggling through. Why they had to look for this witch was not told to them and Conn was absolutely convinced the witch did not even exist. Magic was a ridiculous fantasy, thought up by men with nothing else useful to do. Lucan wasn't so sure, he had not met a witch yet, but his mother used to tell him a story about a witch and her fairy servants, all living in a hole in the ground where from they protected the land and its many creatures. It had been a good story, one of his favorites. Lucan was excited to meet the witch.
"Oh you hopeless bag of meat and muscles, if Cormac told you to retrieve a cloud from the sky you'd be jumping before he had chance to tell you which one. Thank the gods for your strength, your brains aren't worth shit." Connie could be rather short with him sometimes, but Lucan always forgave him, it was just the way he was. A lot of people were like he was, angry, annoyed, sometimes mean. Lucan never saw the use in it, he was happy to be happy.
For a few hours now they had been traveling through the thicket, spotting no sign of any life, besides some animal dropping in which Conn of course had stepped. "Perhaps we should head back? The night'll be on us before we know it and we'll never find our way back in the dark." Lucan wasn't a fan of the dark, though he wasn't planning on telling Conn that.
"We can't come back too soon, Cormac will have our heads. No, we'll hike on for another hour or so and then follow the river down south back to camp. Besides, I think I see a clearing up ahead." Conn spoke true, as the two of them pushed through the brush a clearing in the trees suddenly appeared. Quickly Conn hid behind a tall oak and signaled for Lucan to do the same. Clumsily Lucan ran to a tree besides Conn, which seemed tall enough to hide him, but no matter which way he turned, Lucan's shoulders always poked out. Conn shook his head angrily, motioning him to stay quiet. Carefully Conn poked out his head and looked from behind his oak at the clearing in the forest. T'was a big circle of bright green grass, with daisies growing in abundance. There were no signs of felled trees and no recollection of anybody scavenging for wood so deep into this particular forest. Lucan could not hold his curiosity back any longer and stuck his head out from behind his tree. The place he saw seemed to glitter like no other patch of the forest did, as if the sun had decided to shine on it specifically. It looked warm and welcoming, the perfect place to lay down one's head and rest for a while.
Without any further hesitation Lucan bounded towards the grass, a smile bright on his face and made his way right to the middle of the clearing. He could hear Conn's cursing and saw his eyes shooting daggers into his direction. Lucan was about to waive him over to him, as he was certain there was no danger to be found. Yet before he could think to move a muscle, the world around him suddenly went dark, as if all the light in the world ceased to exist. After that Lucan was not sure what happened, nor how long it took him to wake up again.
* * *
His dream was nothing like any other dream he'd ever had, nor could Lucan make any sense of it. It did not even feel like a dream, instead it seemed as if he wasn't even asleep at all. His eyelids felt so very heavy that he felt forced to keep them closed, yet the darkness that now prevailed sent cold shivers down his spine. For a moment he attempted to move his body, but that too felt heavy, as if a mountain lay on top of his chest. Whilst straining and grunting Lucan tried to muscle the weight off of him and move his body, yet all his attempts proved fruitless. Still, he did not feel altogether unpleasant, besides the dark of course. His body was warm, a comforting warmth and a soft breeze flowed freely through his chestnut hair. When he stopped trying to move Lucan began to feel how very comfortable he truly was and with a deep breath he started to enjoy the calmness around him.
"Oh how long it has been since a traveler happened upon my home, but tell me tall stranger, what be your business in my forest?" The voice came in sudden echos and seemed to flow into his ears as rivers disappear into caves. It was a smooth voice, a woman's voice and completely unlike the ragged old screech his mother used to use when speaking as the witch in her stories. For from the moment Lucan heard the voice speaking to him, he knew that it belonged to the woodland witch. "My, my, what a handsome stranger you are..." The voice kept creeping closer, until Lucan could hear her breath fog his mind.
Though his eyes remained closed he managed to part his lips and so attempted to answer the Witch's question. "I-I'm Lucan, I'm a soldier of the Western Army, my commander sent me to look for the woodland witch. I suppose that is you." After he had spoken Lucan silently cursed himself and his lack of proper formalities, though he had no clue how to properly address a witch of the woods.
"A soldier aye? Come to beg for my favor? Or are you here to burn my home and banish me into the abyss, all so you and yours can build another one of your great, grey fortresses?" Her voice ringed in his ears, with a sudden angry edge to it. The witch crept ever closer, Lucan listened to her footsteps approaching him.
"Me? I would not dare, oh great witch of the woods, I am simply a set of legs sent to prove your existence, besides that I have not been commanded to burn nor banish, simply to see if you are real and the stories true." With a thump Lucan felt the Witch jump him and land on top of him, her legs straddling his stomach, her hands pressed into his shoulders. There was no hope for pushing her off of him, as his limbs still refused to move even an inch. Fear struck him now fully, where before he had been rather curious about the whole affair.
With his eyes closed Lucan felt the Witch's face mere inches from his own, the tip of her nose grazed his ever so slightly. Again she spoke, her voice now no more than a whisper; "Well, real I am, Lucan of the Western Army, but how do you presume to prove it to your fellow men..?" This he had not yet thought of, though Lucan had never been much of a thinking man.
"Perhaps I could take you with me to meet my commander? Cormac is a gruff sort of man, but knows his manners and all. I'm not sure what he wants from you, but surely it'd be a good idea to go and ask, right? And after I'll bring you back home myself, It was a long walk but I'll carry you if I must, feeling you sit on me now I can tell you're light as a feather. It'd be no trouble, honest."
