User blog:TheTragedyofE/The Legend of Eulalia

Wounds have I sixteen, is slit my byrnie,

dim grows my sight, I see no longer:

to my heart did hew, venom-hardened,

Angantýr’s sword slashing sharply. Shall fair ladies never learn that I,

from blows me shielding, backward turned me;

nor shall ever Ingibiorg taunt me,

in Sigtúna sitting,that from sword-blows I fled.

Unwilling nowise,from women’s converse,

from their sweet songs I with Soti fared,

''hastened to join the host to eastward,  went the last time forth from friends so dear.''

Led me the white-browed liege’s daughter

to the outmost end of Agnafit

Is borne out thus that back I would not

wend from this war: so the wise maid said.

From Ingibiorg—came ill-hap swiftly—

I fared forth, then,on fated day:

a lasting sorrow to the lady,this,

since not e’er after each other we’ll see.

To have and to hold I had five manors;

''on that land to live misliked me, though.  Now, robbed of life,I lie here,spent,''

by the sword wounded,on Sáms-isle’s shore.

(Hialmar's Death Song; Old Norse Poem)

Prologue
Although spring had already begun a few days ago, it had not yet set in, evidently shown by blanket of snow in some areas. Now that the cold, bitter winter had died down, the time of war had returned once more. Hares; young and old, registered to join the army.

The landscape was seemingly barren, to a naked eye. However, if one where to look closer, they would be able to spot out a ripple in the distance. The ripple was an army camp, set up by Southern Army Hares. The camp was next to a river, which was convenient, seeing that the company had marched quite a distance. Gathered around a campfire, some played cards and drank, others slept, while others wrote letter home. A rather gloomy atmosphere lingered in the camp; there would be war soon.

Camouflaged against barren white tents and snow, a cloaked figure floated through the camp, it's pace quick and rapid. No one seemed to notice the creature, nor the bundle it clung to in it's paws. The head swiveled around a few times, the beast worried about something. A few hares averted their eyes to the veiled figure, but their attention wasn't kept for long. It was most likely a lost hare wife, carrying some vittles home for supper.

Captain Balthor, however, had a keen eye, and immedietly was suspicious of the lonesome creature. Sipping some Nettle beer, he turned over to a soldier sitting close to him.

"Hey, Proctor!" He nudged the young hare, then pointing to the cloaked beast. "Y'know who's that?"

"N-no, Cap'n." Proctor answered slowly. "Looks awfully suspicious, don't it?"

Balthor nodded, as he began to rise up. "Your right, laddie. Best t'see what the blasted thing is, eh?"

The Captain strode up confidently to the Creature, sizing it up considerably. Looking straight at it, he directed his attention to the veiled figure in front of him.

"Wot's y'buisness here, eh, eh? Y'got anywhere to be?"

The creature took a step back, not expecting this type of attention at all.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm a bit lost, you see. Would you please tell me where the nearest village is? I'm looking for a place to say." It affirmed softly. Balthor raised an eyebrow, but decided to help the creature. It did look lost, and didn't look much like a spy, at least.

"Head south until y'spot a big ol' pine. Then, turn west, an' you'll stumble upon The West Forest Village. Peaceful, calm place, the West Forest Village is. Hares are nice an' friendly, vittles warm an' tasty. Should fill y'needs, I suppose."

The Veiled creature bowed down, showing it's gratitude. "Many Thanks, Sire. May Fate be kind." And with that, the creature began to move south, in hope of the West Forest Village.

~*~*~

Knock Knock!

"Sussana, would you please open the door f'me? I do so believe some beast is there, y'know."

An old, bone thin Hare Wife responded to the call, her face molded in scorn and annoyance. "Yewdore, Y'lazy, picked frog! Do I gotta do every flippin' thing for yeh, Wot!?" Rushing from the kitchen to the front door, Sussana carefully brushed her plain dress, before answering to the loud knocks. Slowly opening the door, she found no one standing there, that is, until she looked down.

The rich, warm eyes of a badger babe stared at her intently. It neither cried not yelled, instead, simply looking at the Hare wife. Sussana was in utter disbelief. What sort of creature would just simply leave a babe in front of another beast's doorstep?

Sussana quickly grabbed ahold of the babe, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Yewdore! Yewdore! Come here right this moment!" She yelled, as she ran over to the dormitory. The lank male hare came in, his whiskers twitching a bit. "Hell's teeth, Sussana! Can't ye lower ye voice a bit?"

Instead of giving back a smart reply, she motioned for her husband to sit next to her. Yewdore's eyes widened in amazement, when he saw the precious bundle.

"By Me Aunt's blue stripped pinny, Sussana! A Badger Babe? Wherever did you find it?"

"I found it in front of our door." Answered the Harewife, as she cradled the, now sleeping, badger babe. "I didn't see any adult with it, so I suppose it be an orphan. Poor dear, all alone. What should we do with it, Yewdore?"

"We keep it, of course!" The Hare lept up with joy. "What other options do we have?"

Sussana smiled slightly, petting the babe as it yawned. "What shall we name it? I suppose it be a maid, so It ought to be a maid name." She paused for a bit. "I always liked the name Daisy."

Yewdore shook his head, obviously having a better idea than his unoriginal wife. "These are times of war, Sussana! Badgers are tough nuts; or so I read in a book. It'd be best we give this lassie a warlike name! Somethin' bold and strong, but feminine, in a way."

"And what sort of name would that be?"

"Hm..." Inquired Yewdore, stroking his chin, before he came up with an acceptable name for the badger babe.

"Eulalia. It means 'Victory', in the language of old."

Book 1: The Ascent
"The fettered beast was then transported to some suitably lonely and desolate place. The chain was tied to a boulder and a sword was placed in the wolf’s jaws to hold them open. As he howled wildly and ceaselessly, a foamy river called “Expectation” (Old Norse Ván) flowed from his drooling mouth. And there, in that sordid state, he remained – until Ragnarok."

(Received from [])

Chapter 1
Eight seasons have passed, since the arrival of the Badger Babe, known as Eulalia. Tranquility had been kept in the Western Forest Village for yet another eight seasons, and no beast seemed very interested in the war, aside from small talk and gossip. No male hare had to sign up for the army from the village, and no one intended from going. It was the middle of a pleasant autumn morning. The trees had been sporting their colors for quite a while now, and their branches where slumping under the weight of russet apples. Adults were working in the fields, elders were recalling their younger years, while Leverets were preparing for the upcoming Harvest Festival. However, among the stillness of the West Forest Village, a certain striped beast was pulling a large sack of flour behind her. A few Adults allowed themselves to smile at the silly sight, one even approaching the little Badger.

“Hello Little one. Do you need any help?”

“Um...Um...No thank you, sir.” Eulalia answered awkwardly. She quickly tried to escape the adult, suddenly becoming fascinated in the bag of flour. She lumbered on with her task, while Leverets pointed and laughed; not having care in the world. Eulalia Stuck her tongue out at them rebeliously, trying to make them stop, and then proceded to her task. As she travelled the long journey to her own Cottage, she overheard comments from nearby leverets, taking advantage of Eulalia’s strange appearance.

“Hehehe! My pop says that Striped dog issa Badger! Silly thing, ain’t it?” “Striped Dog, hahahohoha! Good name, Fran!” “Look’it ‘er! She’s so short and pudgy! She’d never win the upcoming race!” Although she tried hard to ignore them, the comments were biting away at her. However, she persevered, and ignored them. Seeing that the Badger didn’t respond, the one named Fran saw an opportunity. She whispered to the smaller hare next to her, making her voice audible to the Badger. “She doesn’t belong in the Village. She’s not even a Hare.”

Suddenly, Eulalia decided to take matters upon her own paw. She was upon them, her face red with fury. How dare they make fun of her, and poke at her strange appearance? She had as much right to live in the Village as they did. Furious, she poked the supposed ring-leader, Fran, ready to give them a smart lecture. “Shut your trap, missie! Unlike you, I’m actually trying to get some work done, While you and yore liddle gang be watching me from afar!”

Fran looked shocked, completely foreign to the fact that the striped dog could even speak back to her. Luckily, her little brother had taken the reigns, and had decided to talk back to the Badger in the same tone as she had spoken to his sister.. Although he was just as old as Eulalia, he was shorter than an average leveret, and he still insisted to speak in the common Dibbun speech. “Dun talk to my sissa like dat! Meanie-Head!” He then stuck his tongue out at Eulalia, trying to mimic her habits. “You’m be a bad un’! Imma gunna...Imma gunna hit’cha!”

Smack!

When the Leveret had been speaking, Eulalia had swiftly slapped in the cheek. A light red mark appeared where she hit him, and the Leveret was in pain. Biting his lip, he swelled his chest, trying to size up his opponent. “I challenge yah t’the festivil contests! Whoevah winz da most, issa better, an’ getsa Marmel’s Appa Pie! Dial?” He asked, extending his paw for a pawshake.

“Deal.” Answered Eulalia, shaking his paw Firmly.

~*~*~ “Eulalia, how could ya hit such a frail leveret such as Dolph! I thought I taught ya t’do the opposite thing, gel!” Upon hearing the news that her Foster Daughter hit a young babe, Sussana couldn't help but be ashamed. Didn’t she raise Eulalia to be kind, docile, the complete opposite of this type of behavior? And to think that She planned on beating Dolph in a race...Unthinkable!

“I’m very disappointed in you! Wot d’ya got to say for y’self?”

“They deserved it.” Eulalia mumbled under her breath. Frankly, she felt little to no guilt about challenging that little runt to a contest. It was him and his sisters who tormented her regularly, from spreading rumors, to blaming that she was the one who ate the big plum cake. In her mind, her actions were merely justice.

“Go To the dormitory! You will not come out until you learn better!” She paused a bit, before adding, “And no scones f’you!”

As the badger trudged into the the dormitory, she felt that her foster mother was being more ignorant than usual. Had it not come to her mind, that it was the hares that were doing to wrong? “Why do I always have to be the one in trouble?” She called out, only for silence to respond.

In the distance, she could hear her foster father object to his wife’s reasoning. “Now now, Sussana. No need to get hasty, y’know. Calm down and make some tucker. ‘lalia only did so to mind that rascal Dolph.”

“I’ll mind you if you don’t shut y’trap!” Was Sussana’s reply.

Although she was melancholy on the situation, Eulalia chose not to procrastinate; she did have a deal to win the events at the festival, didn’t she? Even Sussana couldn’t stop that. With that, Eulalia began running around in circles; a very strenuous form of exercise, in the little Badger’s mind.

~*~*~

Evening had just begun to form in the West Forest Village. Eulalia had been training the whole time; lifting chairs, lifting books, running around some more, throwing supplies at a target, and some more. All in all, she was tired. Hopping into her designated cot, she began imagining what would happen when she won. That little Dolph would be bawling his eyes out, his sister perfectly humiliated. On the other hand, Sussana and Yewdore would be cheering loudly, and Eulalia’s head would be crowned in a circlet of roses and daisies. But the best part would be Old Marmel’s pie. Old Marmel was an ancient female rabbit; the oldest thing in the village. She was bone thin, with a film over her eyes, and almost no teeth left in her gums. Contrary to her ghastly appearance, she made the most delicious apple pie one would ever taste. Eulalia licked lips at the thought.

Bam!

Surprised by the sudden knock on the front door, Eulalia scrambled up from her cot, over to the keyhole in the dormitory door. Widening her eye, she took a look to see what the knock on the front door was about.

Sussana Quickly made her way to the front door, brushing any dirt off her dress, as always. She then proceeded to open the door, only to gasp in horror. Eulalia’s vision was blocked, so she didn’t know what her foster mother saw. Sussana cried, “Yewdore! Come here this instant!”

It was a hare, the thing that Sussana dragged into the cottage. Eulalia herself gasped at his horrid appearance. He was sickly thin and malnourished, evident in his hollow cheeks and reed-thing hind legs. He was missing an entire ear; the thing having been ripped off his scalp. Area’s where bandaged poorly, some falling off to reveal open, unkept wounds. His Right leg was heavily bandaged.

Yewdore joined his wife in short time, helping her carry the dying soldier to a nearby mattress. When he was finally set down, the young soldier managed to give a nod of a head, wincing almost immediately.

“Ughh...Th..Thanks. I can...I can die easy know…” He said hoarsely. Sussana bit a lip, as Yewdore inspected his uniform closely, speaking to the soldier in a soft, gentle tone.

“You come from the 18th Regiment of the South Army, Son? My Cousin, Balthor. You know him.”

“Ol’...Bal...thor? S-sorry. Dead. Head was...blown off…”

“....I see.”

Sussana hurried over to the soldier’s aid, washing his wounds, and feeding him bits and pieces. The Soldier nodded in gratitude. “Thanks...Thanks Marm. M’names...Proc...proctor…Four...Fourteenth Regiment..."

She nodded, signalling to be silent. While she was attending to his wounds, the bandages on his right leg fell off. Sussana winced, as did Eulalia, who had to stuff her paw in her mouth, to prevent a scream. The thing was cut to the bone, yellow and red mixing to make a putrid color. “Best...not to waste...waste...food…” Proctor Croaked, "On a dying....heap...no?" Sussana began trembling, grief overcoming the old harewife. So this was the true face of war... Yewdore silently went to the side, Sussana joining him when she finished cleaning Proctor up. The two were silent, allowing the soldier to pass away peacefully. However, Proctor refused to die so soon. He had much more to say. “The King...The King! N...North King! C...Came! Kill! He...He killed...killed everyone...I...I was lucky….I made it out….Everyone’s...Everyone’s dead…” Sussana stifled a sob, Yewdore holding her paw. Just as Proctor was about to pass, he managed to whisper a small piece of information. He felt that he owed these two elders; they gave him a nice place to die. A warning; it was the best he could do. “The King’s...Eyes….Red as….Red as Blood...his eyes….”

He then allowed his vision to blur. He coughed, exhaled, and died. Yewdore shook his head, murmuring, "War ain't glorious, as y'can see by this Proctor lad. I only wish all those bucks who left where still here. That King ain't one to mess with."

Sussana nodded, clenching her paws into a fist. "Blood an' fur, may the North King be cast away to Hellgates!"

This was the last thing Eulalia heard. She rolled up into a ball, her back against a wall. She couldn't get that soldier out of her head. His last words...Eyes like blood...What could it mean? She shivered. "I'm glad Papa isn't in th'war." She mumbled, before drifting off to sleep.