Perhaps it was freedom itself that choked her. Ever since she was a child she had been haunted by a weighted dread of the ancestors before her. A past that has been all but shuttered from her that now follows her arround with every waking moment.
Sc...
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The winter moon hung in the air, her pale face, letting off a soft glow that overlooked an overgrown pasture.
Its borders were thick with barren trees, their limbs reaching towards the sky in a sobering manner.
It would be a day of reckoning for all of mankind, the day that evil would overthrow the balance in the world and place its mark that would last forever.
The cold wind caressed the still skin of the pile of bodies that were waiting for mother earth's caressing eternal hold. It was here that a man proclaimed that his neighbor had been a witch. And it was here that she felt the pain of the wicked hands that chose her judgment.
Her body now lay amongst the rest, skin marred by their knives and flesh missing from their fires. Little could hide her unnatural beauty, or the terrifying look on her face that caused even the most wicked-hearted to quake in her stare.
She had not been the first in the series of attacks in the surrounding small towns. The first had been of a girl who was only 13 summers old. Beautiful red hair that glimmered in the sun, violet eyes that made every breath catch in your throat.
Such was they way of the wicked to find a way to crush those of things with beauty. Never in a million years could you have asked her who had told of her behaviour. Never would she have guessed that it would end up being her would be betrothed.
It happened as some would assume, a jealous man who saw the way his friends and the surrounding men looked at her. It was him who accused her of placing a spell on the townsfolk, and of the crops outside her house dying in such peculiar ways.
It was he who rallied up his linemen and dragged her up upon a hill overlooking the town. The night was filled with her frightened calls to the gods above as the cruel and wicked set aflame the bound orphan.
And so she burned, her cries slowly growing smaller until her burned husk remained. Under the Bloodmoon her twin sister watched the procession, the likeliness to her sister's looks so identical she feared to step closer.
It was she who had burned the crops when her newfound powers overwhelmed her. And in return, her sister payed the price. She stood at the edge of the forest line as the man walked up to her sister's body and whispered the very words that set fire to her veins. A curse was unintentionally whispered by the passing priest that carried on the wind under that blood moon until it settled upon her.
A curse, and a promise of redemption.
It wasnt but weeks later that the same girl stood in an overgrown pasture full of still bodies, looking down upon a face that was recognizable. The face of a mother she never knew she had. The face of a witch accused of evil deeds.
Centuries of a bloodline being cleansed until there was only one left. One who was now cursed to pass on a gene to someone in her bloodline that would endanger their every living minute.
It was a peculiar curse, if not well thought. Its intentions was for the person to feel the weight of every person that died a horrible fate for carrying a gene that proclaimed them as witches. They were cursed to walk around every day with a weight on their shoulders, a weight of dread and solitude as they were unable to comprehend how people were drawn but propelled to betray them.
Spirits that told of a hidden past that even at that time was obscured by those who wished that the past stayed dead as those they had murdered.
Red hair, the same color of spilled blood. A crimson color that could be seen for miles. Pale skin the color of fallen snow, unmarred by time or pain. Violet eyes, surreal and lusterous as if they contained a star in each orb. All this, all of this beauty would be considered a blessing to some. To bear a child with such a blessing would be unimaginable. But to bear a child whose beauty would be used against them would be even more treacherous.
Perhaps that was why those beautiful twins had been abandoned at a front door of a healer. Maybe the mother had forseen of a future more dreadful that the one that had been enacted.
Either way, the future of the remaining twin would be filled with darkness until she too bore her own babe, and felt the fear that her own mother had. A fear that her child would be slaughtered like her sister. Or worse, used for wrongdoing.
A future that the young girl hoped that she could avoid at all costs, even if it meant asking the gods for a favor.
A favor that would hopefully buy her bloodline time until the right child could be born to break the curse.
Or be resorted to the same fate as those before.
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