Bree walked slowly, her legs did not want to obey her orders to keep going, and she decided to give them a short break. She rested her tired body against a sturdy tree and looked over her wounds. She peered down at her arm; the blood had dried leaving a brown color over it. Her dress had torn during the slashing, and what remained of it was still turning the color red from the gashes in her knees. The blood continued to drip down her legs all the way to her bare feet. She, feeling guilt ridden, closed her eyes and allowed her mind to falter.
He would not be this way if it weren't for her. He was kind and smart; he was too smart. He realized what her mother had been trying to do, and he decided he wanted to change it. He spent time learning and experimenting on people, and he succeeded in finding a way to stop her mother. He took what Bree's mother held dearest; he took her powers.
She wondered how her story had come to these events.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hollow beyond the borders deep in Silu was cold and shaded by the night that never ended. Fog circled her as she ran through the dreary forest. She was not sure why she had to escape it, but she knew that she had to leave. Whispers started sneering at her shortly after she started picking up her pace from normal to brisk.
Bree.
The voice was soft and delicate; it had echoed around and seeped its way into every aspect of her body. The sound was feminine and warm, but it struck terror through her body. She kept at her quick pace as she tried to navigate the all too familiar but never visited forest. She went past the trees and noticed how they were crooked and covered in prolonged pieces of bark. The bark bent its way upward reaching for a sky that she could not see. The sharp angles of the trees she had to navigate resembled those of a spine contorted and stretched apart. No matter how far she thought she got, the vaporous mist followed close behind.
Come to me, sweetheart.
The whispers swarmed in a formless barricade of fog, and it pillowed into her body. It trapped and clung to her bones that created a crushing sensation. It was hard for her to breathe as the smog tried to consume her. It pulled her down, and she felt the dirt and debris cling to her stinging skin and hair. She dug her burning hands into the earth to hoist herself up, and she could feel the tepid liquid dripping down to her fingertips. She quickly regained her balance, and she started running from the ever persistent mist. Because of her fall, she was less dexterous than before. Her turns were not as precise, and this caused her shoulders and arms to scrape along the trees. She ran through the pain because the fog never stopped following her through the forgotten forest.
Why are you running?
The voice that was once airy and light turned into one of a predator. It sounded as if the voice was slithering up her back. It twisted its way into the depths of her mind. The mist itself nipped at her skin. She tried to escape from its grasp, but it just tightened its hold and dragged her to the ground a second time. She scrambled to grab at anything to get off the mud, and she latched onto a tree root that poked through the ground. Her hold did not last for long because the root took on life and it lifted out of the ground. Branches of the nearby trees unraveled, and both the roots and tree limbs wove their way around her legs. They held her in one spot; the more she struggled to rip them off the tighter they became.
The fog caught up up to her in seconds and hovered in front of her. It didn't yet consume her, but it instead engulfed back into itself. She gasped as the smoke took on the shape of deathly white hands with needle thin fingers. The hands advanced upon her, and she screamed when they connected with her skin. The fingers purposely dug themselves into her arms and legs. They broke the surface and went deep enough to wrap themselves around her bones. She screamed out further in agony as crimson blood spewed out of her new wounds. The hands that held her bones applied heavy amounts of pressure until she felt the bones start to shatter. Bone ground on bone, and she threw her head back trying to escape the pain. Different branches took the opportunity to wind their way around her chest and neck cutting off her vocal cords. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to scream to no avail.
When other hands connected with her exposed skin, they felt slick and chilled. This sensation was overwhelming and started to feel like someone was pressing hot coals to her body. The hands dug again into her flesh, and they ripped downward. They shredded her skin into thin stripes; the skin dangled loosely from her bones leaving the blood to pool out. Her blood was the only color in this forever dark forest. She could not find an end to the pain. A spare hand caressed her cheek softly once; it came back a second time and gouged its way through her blood-soaked skin. It pushed and pushed until it broke its way completely through; she could feel the tips lightly with her tongue. The hand suddenly clenched its fingers, and then ripped back the way it came. It severed the skin from her face with a spark-popping sound.
She tried once more to call out for help, but when her mouth opened a hand slithered in. It worked its way down her throat making it impossible to breathe and stifle her sputtering. She tried to heave for air, and her body rocked trying to free itself. Her vision began to fade, and she was met with a comforting darkness in place of the monstrous one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Light. A bright, pure substance that was needed to keep all things alive. Light fluttered kind hearts, and it healed all scars. Light fueled flowers to bloom, and the dawn to rise.
Bree woke to the light and walked directly over to the open windows. The curtains fluttered softly in the new morning breeze. She folded her arms, allowed her eyes to adjust, and took in the view. It was the end of Medowtin, but the flowers were still in perfect bloom. Rows on rows of pinks and reds lined her gardens, and they kept going until the start of the Silu forest. The bright light of day faded to dark at the Silu forest. The Silu forest was part of Silen, and Silen is known as "the land of eternal darkness." No one was allowed to enter Silen; no one ever made it out alive.
Bree focused her attention back onto the flowers, her flowers. She commissioned them to be planted, and she spends most of her time there. She was deep in thought when a voice called to her.
"Good Morning."
She spun on her toes; she didn't remember why but it sent shivers down her spine.
"Is everything alright?" The voice asked.
Bree took a deep breath as she recognized the face to the voice. The voice belonged to her servant, Claire. She regained her posture and calmed her expression, "good morning, Claire, I am perfectly fine."
Claire bent her body in half in a bow, "Apologies, Your Majesty. Shall I draw you a bath?"
"Do so," Bree flicked her hand and turned and waited for Claire to leave the room.
~~~
Bree met Claire two moon cycles ago. Bree was riding with her father and brother to their Crescentual home. They traveled to this home for Crescentual. It was a smaller home than the palace, and they took few servants. Their Crescentual home was sturdy and it was in an area that experienced the light for all hours. There was also a smaller village for the towns people to migrate to in order to keep away from the cold.
On the road to their home Bree saw a pair of men beating a woman. In their land, peasant woman were looked down upon. Women were regarded with praise when in power for being strong, but they were hated on as peasants for being useless. Men could do whatever they wanted to the woman as long as the leading household male gave permission. Bree, who was a woman in royal power, did not like how men treated all women. She made her face emotionless, and her voice certain when she called for the carriage to hault. The carriage master helped her down as she personally went over to where the lady was being beaten. Bree held her head high and peered at the two men in silence until they ceased their actions and looked at her. Immediately they dropped onto one knee and held their vision steady with her shoes. The woman went into a bow when the men stopped. "You, woman, what is your name?" Bree said it loud enough for other people in the trail behind her carriage could hear.
"My name is Claire," She responded softly, did not come out of her stance.
"Who are these two men?" Bree asked. The men started to respond be she silenced them, "Was I talking to you?" There was silence. "Claire, who are these men?"
"They are friends of my father, Your Highness."
Bree looked at the two figures. Bree decided then that she wanted the woman to be her servant. Not because she was beaten by a man, but because the men had to get permission from Claire's father. Bree thought her father would be the same way if he had the chance. She knew that her father, a man with a horrible temper, was watching her now. Bree took pleasure she would never dare show on the outside in ignoring his discouraged stare, "Claire, you may rise."
Claire stood upward, but her head remained lowered.
"What is your roll in town?" Bree asked. She wanted to know what skills Claire possessed.
"I am an artist, Your Highness."
Bree thought about her decision for a minute, then she spoke, "Come with me." She turned to leave but before she took one step she spoke again, "if I ever see you two men again, it will be your last day."
Bree then continued walking at a brisk pace back to her carriage. She seen her father and brother's reactions because of the open top of the carriage. The carriage master helped her back in, and she said to Claire, "Come and sit here beside me. Your items will be fetched at a later time."
The carriage master reluctantly helped Claire up, and she responded, "I am grateful for your deed, Your Majesty."
Bree wished she could explain, but had to reply with a simple, "yes." Both Claire and Bree sat in silence for what remained of the ride.
Bree was finally able to get a good look at Claire while she was sitting next to her. She had pale blue colored hair, which was put up in a delicately styled bun, that accented her brown eyes; under her eyes Bree saw a bruise beginning to form. Bree clenched her fists but otherwise remained in perfect posture. Claire had on clothes with an assortment of tan colors, most peasants wore similar outfits. Many people stitched their own clothing because they could not afford anything better. Bree, as well as the rest of the royals, was wearing a light grey gown to celebrate the Crescentual time. Unlike Claire's hair, Bree's was a shade of light pink, the color similar to a rose, and it was kept down. Bree spent a long time trying to think of what Claire was like, and she used that as an excuse to avoid her father's piercing stare.
Later that night, after they had reached the home, Bree spoke with Claire alone. She told Claire that she would like to have her as her personal servant, and Claire quickly accepted. Claire has been faithful to Bree ever since that day.
~~~
"Your bath has been drawn. I will retrieve your outfit and come back when you are finished, Your Majesty." Claire moved with a quick pace and was in and out of Bree's presence before she could have responded.
Bree took her bath and thought about what her schedule was for that day. Her father had requested to see her for a meeting before she attended her normal studious activities. Bree quietly got out of the water and rang the bell for Claire to return to her room. Claire was back within minutes with a dress one hand and papers in the other. Claire assisted Bree put on the dress behind the changing courtin as Bree read the parchment. The paper was a notice from her father that explained he had moved the meeting time, and that she was not to be late. She asked Claire what time it was, and Bree was indeed running late.
She quickly slipped on the purple dress, shoes, and she had almost left her crown before Claire gently placed it on her head. With the familiar weight resting on top her hair, Bree rushed out of her chambers. She did not notice the guard that followed at the same pace as her as she walked toward the council room.
©2016