Night fell over the land of Greensward, covering the land in peaceful blanket of darkness. But to one creature at least, the darkness was anything but peaceful.
In castle Floret, Ta'ara Ivariso shivered under her blankets, even though the night was warm. The squirrel lived in terror of the darkness.
Nine seasons back, the land had been thrown into turmoil by a longtailed weasel named Irruse in his attempt to usurp the throne. Irruse had once been the king's chief adviser, but by the time the royal family had realized that he was a traitor, it was too late. Irruse, and the king and queen were all killed in the war.
Now, the only surviving members of the family were two of the children (who were now adults), Tomri, who became king, and his younger sister, Ta'ara. At first everything seemed as if it would go back to normal, but, three seasons ago, Ta'ara had begun to have horrible dreams, nightmares, about things too terrible to describe. Some might have considered her to be paranoid, but the things Ta'ara saw- She knew they were real.
Ta'ara sat up. Her bright, blue eyes searched every corner of the room. Her mouth quivered. She could feel it. A presence, the presence of something dreaded.
Suddenly, out of the darkness, from no particular direction, came a voice. "Ta'ara....." It hissed. The squirrel pulled out the long dagger which she kept under her pillow. "Ta'ara, Ta'ara, "TA'ARA!" The voice chanted.
Ta'ara screamed.
Her light turned on.
"Ta'ar! Are you all right?" Tomri raced to the side of her bed.
"He's here, Tommie! He's here! He's coming to get me!" Ta'ara shrieked.
"Who? Who's coming to get you?"
"Him! The longtail! Irruse!"
"What?" Tomri looked puzzled. "Ta'ar, I thought Irruse was dead."
"He was, I saw him die, but..." Her voice trailed off.
"Ta'ar," Tomri's voice was gentle, like a voice used to comfort a little child. "I think you were just having a bad dream."
"It's not a dream-" Ta'ara began, but she stopped. It was no use arguing.
"If you don't mind, sis, I'm going back to bed." Tomri turned and left the room."
Ta'ara kept the light on all night.
"Ta'ara..." The voice hissed the next night.
"What do you want?" Asked Ta'ara, loudly.
A dim figure appeared from the curtains that covered the door to her balcony. It pointed a long, bony paw at the squirrel. "You." It whispered.
Ta'ara's scream woke the entire castle. Tomri came running from down the hall, but he was stopped halfway by a ball of reddish fur that came hurtling towards him and knocked him over.
"He's here! He's coming to get me! He said so!!!" Ta'ara was hysterical.
"Ta'ar!" Said her brother, getting up, "Look, you can't go on like this! You're keeping everyone awake!"
Ta'ara whimpered.
Tomri softened. "Allright, what if I stay in your room tonight, would that make you feel better?"
Ta'ara bit her lip and nodded.
Two hours later, with Tomri dozing off in a large chair in the corner of her room, Ta'ara heard the voice again. This time, she gripped the dagger tightly and stood on the edge of the bed. "Come out where I can see you!"
She called quietly, but firmly.
The figure stepped out from the curtains again, and Ta'ara faltered. The specter pointed at her and was about to speak, but it was interrupted.
"NO!" The dagger flew across the room and embedded itself in the thing's chest. It slumped to the floor.
Tomri was awake now. "Ta'ar! What is it?"
"See! He's there! I think- I think he's dead."
Tomri looked. "Who? I don't see anything."
"You don't-" Ta'ara gulped, then moaned. "Oh no...."
The next night, Tomri heard noise coming from downstairs. When he reached the second floor landing on the great staircase, he saw a bizarre sight.
Ta'ara was standing on the rail swinging a short sword, but not as if she were playing around. When she swung, sparks flew, as if it had made contact against another blade. But Tomri could see no other blade.
The young king watched from above in horrified fascination. His sister was no amateur with a blade. He could see through the darkness the look of grim determination on his sister's face. This was truly a question of life or death.
Suddenly, the fight ended. Half of Ta'ara's blade vanished, and she tugged on it, at the same time putting her footpaw against something and pushing hard. The blade came free, and, for a moment, Tomri thought he heard the sound of a body thudding down the stairs, but he shrugged off that thought.
Ta'ara stood on the landing, gasping for breath. She once again seemed small and terrified. Tomri came down to the landing, and his sister hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you." She whispered. "Thank you."
The next night Ta'ara awoke from the first sound sleep she had had in months to a familiar, terrifying hiss: "Ta'ara....I'm coming for you!"
Epilogue
The dreamer awoke with a start. Her pulse pounding in her ears. Outside the window, she could hear the sounds of birds. Morning. She got out of bed and climbed down the ladder to the floor. She went to the mirror and began to comb her hair, and as she looked at her reflection, she thought she saw something dart around the corner behind her. She turned and went into the kitchen. On the marker board on the fridge was a smudge of ink- in the shape of a weasel.
The End