User blog:Long Patrol Girl/The Warrior.

Dedication
Dedicated to my two best friends, Drew and Lily.

Prologue - The Tomb
The darkness is a friend of no one, and some are more aware of this than others. He had always been one of those people; and as he walked down the poorly lit stairwell, with the overwhelming silence echoing throughout, he became very aware of that. His back ached in the black coldness, and he thought he would have to call for help. The older mouse was left alone though, and he got down alright. He slowly went around the large room and lit the other lanterns; it did little to make the room any brighter.

He glanced about the room slowly; it was truly huge, and it was beautifully made. Yet, no matter how skillfully made, a rat is a rat, a tomb is a tomb. This tomb was fresh, and a new grave is perhaps the only thing more unsettling that an old grave. But this was different: This was The Tomb. This was Martin the Warrior's tomb. And this was no ordinary mouse; this was Gonff.

He circled the stone sarcophagus of his friend and chuckled sadly, the sound echoing throughout.

"Oh Martin," he said quietly. "Martin, Martin, Martin. We had some good times, huh?" He sat down on a small stone bench that faced the effigy of his best friend. He sighed deeply, and continued: "I did just what you had asked of me. It was hard, though. I imagine it was for the good of them all, including myself, but, still...I...I.......I had to tell someone." He stroked a small, roughly hewn box he had been carrying. He opened it and checked to make sure their contents remained; indeed, the fresh barkcloth, perfumed with memories and vanilla, laid inside. He closed it once more, and heaved the statue away from him; it crashed backwards onto its hidden hinges and jerked to a stop. Inside it was empty, save for a delicate bundle of roses and some sweet-smelling salts. He replaced the lid and heard the air as it was leached from the hidden compartment, locking the items inside in a timeless vault.

"I had to write it out. I know they can't know but...Maybe someone will? I don't know, I don't know..." His voice broke and he collapsed on the stone floor, clutching the cold likeness that lay before him. "Martin!" he cried. "Why- why did-"

His words caught in his throat as he wept and wept. He heard some of the torches burn themselves out and stutter. The room was plunged once again into icy, apathetic darkness. It was cold, and he shook, as he mourned for all the darkness in his life in the gloom.