A little boy, no older than four, wandered onto an old stone bridge one day while playing with his parents. He walked about with his toy sword in hand, slashing it through the air this way and that way. He came upon an old tower about halfway down the bridge. The walls were crumbling and the spot where a door once stood was barren and open. It seemed quite inviting for a curious little boy. So, he made his way through the opening. The tower was small and confining, but to this boy, it was a palace for adventure. He swung his toy sword around, battling “enemies” and climbing amongst the fallen stones.

“My, my. You’ve got quite the arm there, little one.”

“What does that mean?” He looked around, trying to find the lady who had spoken.

“It means you are strong, my dear. Quite strong indeed.”

“Thank you! I’ve been practicing really good.”

“Oh, yes. I can tell.”

“Where are you? I can’t see you.” he pouted, his shoulders slouching and his sword hanging low.

“Ah, well, that’s a long story.”

“I have to go home soon. But I wanna hear it! Please?”

“I suppose I could make it short and sweet…”

“Yay! I’ll sit on this rock and listen real good. Promise.”

The lady laughed from somewhere still unseen. The sound was sweet and resonated off the broken stones. 

“You see, a long time ago there was a fight between two kings. Each man wanted the other one’s castle for themselves…”

“That’s mean of them. Can’t they share?”

“Hush, little one. I’ve only just begun.”

“Sorry!”

“One of the kings, a big man full of greed and hate, declared war on the other king. This king, a man they called Ógurlegrar-”

“What does oh-goo-lar mean?”

“Ógurlegrar, my dear. It means that he was a fearsome man. He scared his enemies just by looking at them.”

“Oh! That’s a nice name then. Was he a nice man?”

“No, sadly he was not. So, Ógurlegrar and the other king sent their soldiers out to fight. I was among those soldiers. One of the most fearless among the men I commanded. But, you see, I was cursed. A funny-looking witch got very angry with me when I was a young girl. She cursed me to never be able to break a promise, no matter how I tried.”

“That sounds bad. What happened next?”

“It was bad, but I managed to deal with it. Then, in the heat of the battle, when our side was losing against Ógurlegrar’s men, I yelled to a messenger boy to tell this to the king: ‘Let the king know that I swear to hold this bridge until reinforcements can come to help!’”

“Did they ever come to help?”

“No, they did not. We lost against Ógurlegrar’s soldiers before the message reached my king. So, many of my soldiers retreated and ran home. I was left with a few brave men, but we were all slain by enemy swords. For the past 469 years, I have been bound to this bridge, sworn to stay until someone comes and releases me. And that, is my story.”

“So you’re a ghost lady! That’s so cool.”

“Sure, we’ll call it ‘cool’”

“Well, if you need help fighting, then I can help you! I’m good with a sword, you told me that. Would that help you?”

The lady thought about it for a moment before speaking again.

“I don’t see why you can’t try…”

“Yay! I’ll fight really good and fast!”

“Okay, little one...Watch out! There’s a ghost enemy behind you!”

The little boy jumped and spun around, swinging his sword at the ‘ghost’. He fought many more enemies as the lady called out where they were. He laughed and ran around, swinging his sword and yelling at the ‘ghosts’. 

Finally, he sat down on the same stone as before, exhausted and smiling.

“You fought quite bravely, little one. I think you have helped me very much.”

She inhaled deeply, still as unseen to the boy as before, and exhaled slowly.

“You have released me from my promise. You were just the right reinforcements for me.”

The wind ruffled his hair in the tower, a gesture of the ghost lady, and he heard one last whisper before her soul finally rested, her last promise finally fulfilled.

“Thank you, my brave little soldier.”

He smiled and walked back through the doorway he had used to enter. Emerging onto the bridge once more, the little boy saw his parents looking around frantically.

“Jonas? Jonas! Where are you?!” His mother called out, worried out of her mind.

“I’m over here, mommy!”

His mom and dad came running to him, his dad picking him up and spinning him around before setting him back down.

“We were so worried, buddy. What were you doing over here?”

“I made a new ghost friend and fought soldiers for her so she could fill her promise to the king. She said I fought very bravely and then she left.”

“A ghost lady, huh? Did she have a name?”

“I didn’t ask her.” Jonas frowned.

“Oh, well that’s okay, sweetie. Now, how about we go get some lunch, yeah?”

“Yes! Mommy, can I have a real sword for my birthday?”

“Um, daddy and I will talk about it.”

And so they began their walk home, the little boy, no older than four, wandering away from the old stone bridge.