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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Victoria’s Dream


 


 


It called to her.


The small child was mesmerized. Her wide enchanting gray pools couldn’t tear away from it.


The forest.


It’s depth seem like a world of many possibilities- filled with such enthralling promises and secrets for only her. The dark tresses of the forest was embedded in her blood. Her pulse was its pulse-they were two beings within one. Kindred spirits-who spoke the same language, held the same thoughts, and understood each other.


She took one hesitant step towards it- slowly taking small steps as it enchanted her with its song.


“No!” she spoke breaking the spell that captured her thinking.


She was forbidden. Commanded never to enter the forest, but stay put within the safety of her village, for there were beast that lived within the forest that took great pleasure in gobbling little girls up.


She should fear such a creature; however, the monster sounded so alluring to her that she wanted to have the pleasure of meeting one face to face.


The forest once more called to her. Beckoning her like the warm embrace of a mother she never had.


“Come,” the voice was masculine-husky, yet gentle.


It spoke so softly and so sweetly that how could she refuse.


The hesitation and obedience had vanished- she took another step.


“Come,”


Another step was taken forth.


She was so close that she cold almost sees through the thick branches and fallen trees. The darkness had never been a hindrance of her. She could see just as good in the dark as she could in the light.


“Come,”


She took another step towards.


As she drew closer they appeared. They appeared just as they’ve always appeared. It was only when she drew closest to the forest did she see the eyes.


The wind would always blow, cooling her slightly warm skin. The hood of her red cloak would fall revealing her long silky jet-black hair.


Lips parted with wonder filled her eyes at the entrancing sight before her. She would see them the deep enchanting eyes that always stared back at her.


They consumed the small child with promises that she had yet to understand. Trying with all her little might to reveal truth within those eyes that she couldn’t unveil.


That’s what lured her-kept her feet moving.


The iris was the deepest emerald that held specks of gold that shined just as brightly in the sun. Glowing with an otherworld touched that fascinated her.


She saw freedom within those eyes. A freedom she was never allowed-a freedom that she most desired.


To run…


To feel…


To be wild…


To be herself…


To be free…


She wanted it-yearn for it; despite being a child she knew what she wanted.


Three more steps she’ll have it.


Taking the first step the voice seems to become louder.


“Come to me…”


She took the second step.


The eyes glowed as she drew close. She could almost see the figure of the one who held those bewitching eyes.


With her last step she reached out her small hand and…


“Victoria!”


Instantly she shot up from her bed at the sound of her grandmother’s voice.


Face drenched in sweat with her heart beating so fast that she thought that it burst from her chest. Using her cover to wipe away the sweat that showered her face as a soft sigh left her. Victoria had thought that she would grow accustomed to the dream after so many years, but her reaction remain the same.


The dream seems like a distant memory; however, she couldn’t remember if it was a memory of her childhood or a dream from it. For eighteen years she’s had that dream, and it’s always been the same. She never heard of a person having the same exact dream since childhood.


However, if it were a distant memory of her childhood she did not know, for when she tried to remember it would fade away. The only things remaining were those hauntingly emerald irises with its specks of gold and aching emptiness.


“Victoria, if your still in that bed you little lazy child…” she let the threat hang, but Victoria knew that her grandmother never gave an idol threat.


The only word that Victoria could describe her grandmother at times was…cruel. The woman seemed to absolute loath her.


Her entire life her grandmother had always treated her like a burden-something that she was given and never wanted.


As a child, Victoria was wild-she could admit to that herself, but though her behavior was less than pleasant the punishments were a bit…extreme. Especially when concerning the forest-most definitely when she tried to enter the forest.


Her mind had slowly drifted to the worst punishment her grandmother had ever given her. Her best and only friend David and her had actually taken the chance to step into the forest.


She was so close to shooting off into the majestic trees and run to her hearts content. Of course before she could one of the village watchmen stopped her.


He had sent David home with a warning, while grabbing hold of her red cloak and dragged her holding no sympathy for her screams as he took her to her grandmothers.


When she was finally brought back home her grandmother was furious. Continuing to drag her into the house at the release of the watchman hold.


She could still remember the watchman laughing at her sobbing form. His facial expression was something that she could never forget as he spat and mummed “Little beast” before turning to leave.


Once inside the house her grandmother pushed her into the kitchen. Standing motionless, while watching the small oats that was used to make morning creamed wheat being poured on the floor in front of her.


When she had stopped, Victoria knew that she had to kneel in the puddle of wheat. She could remember the small pebbles digging into her knees as her full body weight pushed her down.


Her grandmother commanding her to stay in such a position while chanting “I will never enter the forest,” fifty times ending her punishment.


Safe to say before she was finished her knees were bloody and her tears seemed endless.


It was a cruel lesson learned that day, one that she would never forget.


Victoria Red could never enter the forest.


“I swear child all these years and you’ve learned nothing,” she heard her grandmother murmuring as she opened the door to her room, “Are you ready yet?”


Her hair had been pulled into a low knot grabbing her red cloak she stood before her grandmother who inspected her.


“Yes, grandmother.”


“Took you long enough. Come child, we have much to do today. The winds are getting much chillier a sure sign of winter,” her grandmother Sylvia muttered as she turned on her heel and headed downstairs.


Victoria followed ignoring most of what she said.


.


.


Ludlow was the image of what she thought purgatory would be. A village filled with lost souls; who have no recollection as to why they ended here nor have the drive to figure out why.


Everything was gray. From the gray stonewalls of the buildings to gray cobble stone roads. Even the people tended to dress in melancholy colors and have sour looks upon their face as though they sucked on lemons their whole entire life.


Victoria had always felt out of place within the village as though she never truly belonged there. The villagers didn’t make it any better by not hiding their dislike for her.


If anything they tried to avoid her like the plague casting dubious looks towards her whenever she was in the vicinity.


The scarlet cloak her grandmother insisted she wore made it no better. It was like her own mark for some unknown sin she had committed against everyone.


Her displeasure of entering the village was a bitter pill she had to swallow. For she was the only help her grandmother had for the store.


As they made their way through the village like everyday she kept her head down and eyes lower walking beside her grandmother. The villagers greeted her grandmother with the warmth and respect that was due to her, while giving her one cold syllable of greeting towards her.


She nodded her head and didn’t speak one word for, as her grandmother would always tell her, “Young ladies are meant to be seen not to be heard.”


Ever now and then someone would stop her grandmother to speak with her in conversation. During time such as these Victoria allowed her mind to wonder. She had no care about their conversation, for it always tended to surround about the store or asking about a certain item.


Time such as these she would allow herself to take in the sweet scent of the air. She could take in the sweet taste of pastries that Mrs. Davidson was taking out her oven to put on display. The salty musk of fish that was sold no few blocks from Jeffery’s fish market along with the scent of blood and the wild tang of meat from Adams butcher.


Of course such scents were always invaded by the scent of the people that walk passed. She could smell so much more then the average scent of musk and artificial perfumes.


 It was hard for her to explain, but she could smell something that was slightly off about a person in their scent as though she could smell the physical change within their bodies.


One day so many years back she had spoken about such wonder (for that was what she thought about her heighten sense) to her grandmother. She had spoken so vividly and animated about all the scents that seem to explode around her. That she had failed to notice how her grandmother had became pale as her eyes reveled mix feeling about what the young girl was telling her.


The stinging pain had adjourned her tale as she looked at her grandmother with shock and misunderstanding.


She could still hear the firm words that her grandmother had said to her that day


“I don’t ever want to hear speak of such again. Never speak a word of this to anyone.”


However, she had told her friend David who instead of looked at her with terror and hostility her had bombard her with questions with expressions that were filled with curiosity and admiration.


Of course her friend had kept her secret and he-besides her grandmother were the only ones who knew about her wonder.


Of course there were other wonders that she did not reveal fearing that her grandmother wouldn’t take lightly to any more discoveries of her granddaughter.


Although, she was in awe and curious about such wonderful abilities it just redefine the feeling that she didn’t belong.


“It’s going to be a busy day, so Victoria I’m going to need you to be sharp today and not have your head stuck in the clouds,” Sylvia sharp command as they enter the store.


“Yes grandmother,” tugging off her cloak as she moved to help her grandmother get out of hers.


“Go over inventory, afterwards have Mrs. Jacobson’s order ready-knowing that witch would call the dogs of hell if anything isn’t to her liking.”


Victoria nodded her head as she took her grandmothers cloak.


“Afterwards clean the shop, I want my face to reflect on the floors and windows that shine brighter then diamonds.”


“Yes, grandmother,” she said going about her duties.


.


.


.


Midafternoon Victoria had counted and restock inventory in the backroom, afterwards she had check on Mrs. Jacobson’s order and wrapped the parcel with care. Handling it to her grandmother in the front she went about cleaning the front of the store.


When she had finished cleaning the front she had moved to the back of the store.


There she was allowed to wonder in her thoughts with the ease of knowing that her grandmother wouldn’t interrupt.


Her mind had lingered once again on her dream and those mystifying eyes. There was something about those eyes that felt so familiar to her spirit.


She shook her head at such foolishness. After all who could have such bewitching eyes like the one in her dream. Only someone with an overly active imagination like hers could imagine such.


Living in a village like Ludlow and being the social outcast one needed an overly active imagination just to get by from the nothingness of this life.


Setting one of the jars that she was cleaning back to its original place she went to grab another jar when the she could hear her grandmother talking to one of the customer.


Victoria usually dismissed her grandmother’s conversations with the customers for they were always dull and insignificant; however, this conversation caught her interest.


“I hear that your youngest has join the Nightstalker’s Lydia,”


“Yes, his father and I are very proud of him,” the voice belonging to Lydia Matthews, the wife of the chief watchmen.


Lydia Matthews had always reminded Victoria of the hags in the fairy tales she used to read as a child. She was a short woman with squinty black eyes that reminded her of coal. With a hooked nose that was the running joke amongst everyone in the village. Although all that could be looked aside; however, the nasty scrawl that seems to be itched on her features made her a very undesirable woman.


The news that her youngest Edger would be joining the Nightstalker’s had honestly caught her attention. For unlike his two oldest brothers Edger was lanky in frame and had no courage whatsoever to even join such a prestigious force.


This was news that she had to tell David the next time she saw him. David was determining to join the Nightstalker’s; however, he was needed at home with his aunt to take care of his three younger sisters.


The fact that Edger had joined the Nightstalker’s before him would annoy and amuse her friend deeply.


She listen more to their conversation wondering what else she could learn.


“I would’ve thought that he would join his father and brothers for the watchman.”


Victoria couldn’t help but chuckle quietly for she knew her grandmother doubted the boy like herself.


“I would have loved for him to join; however, my brother who served under the honorable Lord Cadeyrn gave him a commission for a spot in one of the lower levels of the stalkers.”


There was something about that name of Lord Cadeyrn that brought an unwelcoming shiver through her body.


She did not like it the sickening feeling that it brought within her at the mere mention of his name.


Even the very image of the man brought such distaste within her spirit. It was a feeling that took over her nearly all the time she passed the image of the famed Lord whose image seem to be painted everywhere in the village. He was the saint that protected this village and many others that cross the western boarder. While his Nightstalker’s were treated as martyr that spilled their blood from the evil ones that lay within the forest.


Discontinuing her thoughts she listen intently at the conversation that was being held in the next room.


“Hopefully this war will be over before his training is over,” spoke her grandmother.


“Sylvia! You and I both know this war will never truly be over until those disgusting beast are no more.”


Mrs. Matthew’s continued on, “We’ve only experience this much peace in years due to that little beast that resides here.”


“Once again god be with Edger and your family Lydia. Allow me to go retreat your package.”



Victoria had quickly moved from where she was eavesdropping and quickly back to the shelf cleaning the jars. As she went about her duty she couldn’t help but feel her curiosity sparked with a tang of familiarity at the words of Mrs. Matthew’s. Especially the statement little beast.  












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.