Berry Red

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I am now thirteen, having grown up with the forest clan, who came to take me from Cirrus, all those years ago. I have lived in their village, in the forest of Enja ever since. My best friend, Jay, and I played in the woods, almost every day, until a year ago, when Jay had to start work, leaving me alone at home, to do my chores.

Sometimes, in the evenings, we go out, berry picking. Back in forest school, we learnt which ones were poisonous, and which ones we could eat. We always take two baskets, one each, and we always manage to fill them. The house in which I lived, all alone, but for a servant girl, was where we kept the berries, and I would make them into succulent pies, or sweet jams, and keep them all ready for when I had visitors, which was often, as I didn’t enjoy being alone.

I still had nightmares about that day, ten years earlier, when I had lost Cirrus, my protector. He still haunted my sleeping hours, where he would wander through my dreams, sometimes sad, and others jubiliant.

As much as I loved the forest clan, who had looked after me for all my childhood, I was never one of them. The forest clan were all dark haired, with green eyes, and tanned skin. As for me, I was pale as a lily flower, with forget-me-not blue eyes, and auburn hair. I had never known anyone like me. My name was different too, for the forest people were named for the birds of their dwelling, or the plants and trees of the undergrowth. I was told I was named for a beautiful flower, yet such a flower grew not in the forest, but elsewhere, beyond the edge of the dark forest, and out in the open, bleak light.

I had never ventured that far before. Never, until now…

Jay and I got up early that morning, as he had a day off, and we had planned to go berry picking, and to bring a picnic with us, to eat in one of the glades within the forest.

It so happened that this was the day of the re-election of the clan chief, something which had not happened for twelve years, since before I had been a part of the clan, and there were people travelling from the other five clans to watch over the proceedings, and to meet the heads of ours.

So, as we travelled through the woods, we were oblivious to the fact that we were walking along the paths of those of the other clans of our kingdom. There were six clans in total. The first, the Mountain Clan, lived up in the Cera Mountains of the west. I knew nothing of their appearance, but I knew each clan’s was different. The second was the Ocean Clan, who came from the beaches of the Serra Ocean that was in the south of the kingdom. The third, the River Clan, from the River Oden, which ran through the centre of our land, and the fourth, the Marsh Clan, of the marshes in the East. The fifth was the Tundra Clan, who came from the icy wasteland of the deep north, known as the Claribelle Icelands, and the final was my own clan, the forest clan of the Enja.

I knew little of the other clans, as we rarely all met. I had learnt in my history lessons, back in school, that there had been a war between the Forest, River and Ocean clans and the Marsh, Tundra and Mountain clans. The war had begun twelve years ago, and ended not long before the Forest clan’s final battle with Cirrus. The king of our kingdom had been killed at the end of the war, and his only daughter was lost not long after. In the end, the kingdom was left in tatters, the clans never meeting without a court to go to.

The end of the war symbolized the end of our kingdom as it had once been. No longer was there a unity between the tribes, or a ruler. The clans kept to themselves, and we lost any joint identity we had. Now the country’s tribes dwell separately, as entirely different entities.

So, as we set out, we didn’t realise that we would be meeting the other clanspeople before that evening. We walked for a bit, filling up two big baskets with berries, and sitting down in a glade, as we planned, to eat our picnic. However, halfway through, we were interrupted by the sound of a man, walking up behind us. We turned quickly, pulling out our hunting bows, and pointing them into the trees.

Rose RedOn viuen les histories. Descobreix ara