Victoria Red

Joshua

David

Sylvia

Lord Cadeyrn

Solomon

Konstantin 

Athena

Matthew

Midnight Prologue

The forest was an unknown realm to man. Vast and magnificent, untamed and powerful; it was a testament that no creation of man could ever attain such beauty and majesty.

The forest was the symbol of the unknown and such intimidation brought fear within man’s heart. Fear of the unknown brought superstition, superstition brought along ignorance, and ignorance was accompanied along with hate.

There were tales of the many magnificent creatures that resided within the forest realm; however, there was only one creature that was spoken of with awe and fear.

Superstition and fear soared amongst man about these creatures that roamed the forest that they had slowly become the definition of danger and terror.

They were the ruling creatures of the forest realm. It was their howls that pierced the night and sent terror in the hearts of those who heard it. They preyed on those that they considered beneath them and killed for the sport of it.

It is in man’s heart to believe that they are the superior creation amongst nature. And it is in their disillusion to broaden their minds and experience something out of their comfort zone.

The fear and ignorance of the unknown had brought upon hate, and in the typical fashion of man they wage war with the forest realm and the creatures that ruled within it.

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Men knew never to venture in the forest at night and hunt the creature that resided in it. Everyone knew that the night belonged to them and the moon was their faithful consort who gave them power.

Yet, there were those who did not put faith in such notions and considered it falsehood. Lord Cadeyrn was a man of logic who looked upon the old tales as silly stories to make children behave.

Logically the only way to eliminate the filthy dogs were to use the darkness of night to shield them and the moon to guide them to the enemy. To use the enemy’s greatest asset as its weakness was the logical explanation. To finally prove that the night belong to them and the moon was nothing but a whore who served those who dominated.

The opportunity arose when his Nightstalker’s caught wind of some of the mongrels near the southern border of the forest. Being a man of schemes and dirty tactics he set forth a plan of attack at midnight.

They were known as the Nightstalker’s, for they stalked those who posed even the slightest threat to mans dominion.

Tales of their battles became nearly as outstanding as the tales that were told about the creatures of the forest.

Their reputation being the most formidable force to the creatures of the woodland was to be tested tonight, for although they might have won many battles against the creatures they had yet to fight at night.

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In the cover of night and the moon being their only light Lord Cadeyrn and his Nightstalker’s marched with eased through the forest. As night progressed, their trek lead them to what many would assume an empty cave; however, these men knew very well never to assume the impossible.

Standing before the cave with his sword held out Lord Cadeyrn yelled with a voice filled with wrath and abhorrence for the filthy beast to come forth from where it resided and to show themselves.

The snarling and chopping of, two great creatures, beautiful deadly fangs that could bring a death strake by one bite answered his challenged.

A battle had ensured between the men and the creatures that abruptly lasted for several minutes.

With the last of the creatures down in their own blood the shouting sound of victory howled towards the moon in mocking imitation of the slain creatures. Lord Cadeyrn was no fool, the battle had lasted to short, and he knew that the creatures that they had slain were simply low in status.

However, his curiosity had been perked during the battle whenever one of his men got so close to the cave it made the creatures become even more volatile. He couldn’t help but wonder what they were protecting within the cave.

With his sword drawn to his person and a few of his men he entered the den to find the source of protection. The den was everything that he expected of the beast; damp and bleakness was the mark of these creatures.

Moving within the den with caution for they knew what lay within these walls. It wasn’t until they came upon the object that caused such a fiery response from the fallen creatures that lay outside the den’s entrance.

There in the center laid one of them-a female in the form of a human. The expression on her face was fierce; however, the pain that mirrored her eyes tainted it. Sweat had clung to her body as if she was burning with some unknown fire.

Lord Cadeyrn was no fool by a sight, if she was human he would have never even dared to lay one finger on her head, but atlas she was no human-no she was a disgusting creature that could kill without blinking, murder without a thought.

Had she been in a shape to fight she would’ve put up a gruesome battle, something that he was sure would be the death of both he and his men. Atlas whatever had caused this fiend to become weak it was only fate for him to send her the deathblow before she could turn.

To his dismay and admiration (which was little when it came to these creatures) the bitch snarled at him in warning as she stood to her height. Her body hadn’t fully morphed only her fangs and claws had enlarged.

The battle didn’t last long and although the female had managed to claw down one of his men and leave an ugly scare on the right side of his face, she lost the battle.

Fatigue had took it’s toll on the female causing her to fall to her knees and give Cadeyrn the motivation to strike her down to her death.

The howl that came forth from the female sent chills through the heart of Cadeyrn and for one moment the feeling of utter regret was known to him for only a second.

The den was filled with an eerie silence for only a second until it was interrupted by the shrill cry of an infant.

The whiling was strong and as Cadeyrn stepped over the body of the fallen female creature he moved to where she had lain before the fight.

Gathered in the pelts of fur and red cloth laid a newly born infant screaming to answer its mother’s call.

His answer to why the female was fatigue, for she had just given birth to a baby. As well as why the two other mongrels fought so viciously, they were protecting the female and her pup.

Lord Cadeyrn like most men knew very little about these creatures; however, he did know that many had mates and the death of a mate could cause an already vicious creature even more savage.  A dreadful question came to their minds; where is her mate and when will he arrive?

There was no sympathy in his heart when he looked upon the child, for it was another one of those filthy damnations that roamed the forest.

He was going to end it before it could even begin. With his sword pointing at the child he moved it above his head readying himself for the deathblow…when a fiery howl shook his psyche.

It was a howl that caused his hair to rise up and a fear to make grown men tremble to their knees in submission.

That was the sound of the females mate coming to wreak vengeance against them.

Lord Cadeyrn looked towards the entranceway as the screams and yells of his men seemed nothing as an echo of terror.

His eyes turned once more to the baby that laid there in its ignorance of all the commotion that was surrounding it. With a quick head motion, Lord Cadeyrn sent his remaining beast out to face the wrath of a vengeful mate. Seconds later his head shot up at the immediate tortuous cry of his men. The sickening cracks of broken bones after the snarl of satisfaction echoed through the small cave.

In one quick decision and move, Lord Cadeyrn placed his sword back in its sheath and took hold of the baby that cry by the sudden movement rang.

Wrapped in the red cloth he held the child to his person with a crazed expression that was soaked in sedition as he exited out the cave.

The bloodied and broken bodies of his men lay at the feet of the great monster before him. It was nothing like the others they fought, this one was intimidating. It was as if his essence wrapped around Lord Cadeyrn demanding submission.

It’s fangs blood soaked fangs ready to bath in the blood of the last fool that dare to mess with his pack and mate.

Its roar and growls was a ballad to the silver moon above as if promising for more screams of destruction to follow the others.

This particular beast seemed to hold the air of authority as it appeared to almost glare down at the bodies of ignorance men.

It wasn’t until Lord Cadeyrn made his entrance catching the attention of the great creature before him.

The scent of its mate was strong with this one causing the creature to snarl something deadly at him, as if sending him a true promising him the same death note as was given to his fellow men.

Sharply the creature laid eyes upon what was wrapped in the sadistic humans arm that made all thoughts of attack stop instantly.

Lord Cadeyrn knew the battle had been won in his favor when he saw the fierce expression wean to that of pure loss. He would live this night, Lord Cadeyrn was sure of this.

He held the infant tight to his person causing it to cry, which had brought a snarl from the great creature. The smirk was made known even more to his enemy, because they both knew he held something important and that the little stunt he just did was in more ways confirmed his suspicion.

The great creature barked an order towards the other creatures that suddenly appeared behind it to stand down there was no battle to take place.

Lord Cadeyrn and the great creature looked to each other a bitter understanding had been known to each of them.

As long as he held that child in his possession the devils of the night will no longer bring fear in the hearts of man, because they held something way to dear to the creature. Something precious that could never be bought to harm, as long as that term was met a one sided treaty would always be in place. The great creature eyes rested on the bundle that was its pup it knew that he would retrieve it back one day…and when he did vengeance was truly his, but for now he would watched and wait for the day.

On that one night Lord Cadeyrn knew that history had been made, however, the cold vicious fury within the blue eyes of the mighty best spoke of a different story.

History was not made on that night…it was started.

The end of the beginning. 

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.

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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.

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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.  

She had always dream of leaving. Wanting to live in creation.

Experiencing the vibrancy of colors, the harmony of the spheres, and the gratification that was called life.

More importantly she wanted to be herself – the person that she envisions.

This place was no home to her.

She could not be herself.

She could not shake the disdainful stares that were always following: following and judging. She was always on the outside looking in.

This should have been the motivation for anyone to leave and strake some claim to their name. Had she been born a male her leaving this godforsaken village could be more than a dream. There were so many opportunities being born the right gender that she envied her friend David. Even though he stayed to help his aunts with his little sisters he still had options. Woman did not have options.

The day you were born your life had already been set in stone by your elders: the boys taught to hunt, farm, and to fight skills of survival for whenever they wanted to leave. Girls were taught cleaning, manners, and medicinal skills to assist the men, but to never think of the world that surrounded them.

And the little options that she had were either joins the Ladies of the Scared Heart or marriage. That was not the life that Victoria wanted to live she didn’t want to be a nun and marriage…marriage never truly was ever an option for her especially in her village.

It never went unnoticed to her that by now she should have been married expecting her first youngling or betrothed. Her grandmother had not even bother to find her a suitor or ever spoke about marrying her granddaughter off.

The mothers of the village made sure that their sons didn’t dare as throw a glance or spoke one syllable to the outcast girl.

Victoria had only cosigned herself to a life of loneliness. Only able to live out the life she envisions in her imagination the only source of comfort.

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David Johansson was born with a happy constitute: despite losing both his parents to influenza at an early age of ten. There was nothing that could really upset him; he took the punches of life with quick jabs and swift dodging. He always had a story, a laugh, or kind words to express for anyone and everyone when near him.

Respectful and filled with such noble dignity that it was hard to see that he was a son of a simple farmer instead of a village head.

Taking on numerous jobs around Ludlow that he was nickname the “Hardest Working Man.” 

Such optimistic outlook and dignified air had easily gain the love and respect of the village. Where he was blessed with such a noble spirit he had also been blessed in looks. David was one of the handsomest boys in the village.

His face was round with plump lips that some of the girls in the village gossiped that they were made to kiss and be kiss by. His almond shaped eyes held an earthly hue—a soft brown like wet dirt that was always filled with merit.

His ebony hair held taints of brown and red that he kept cut low. His skin kissed by the sun so lovingly that he seemed so misplaced in the gray paleness that was Ludlow.

He towered over all the men in the village with the build that was made for battle. He was the source of admiration and desire from the whole female population. Victoria was not naïve to her friend’s good looks.

And it had given her great pleasure when he did not waste a glance at the other girls in the village. He was too good for any of those mean spirited girls that lived in Ludlow.  She still remembers the day when their friendship begun.

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Children weren’t born with the feeling of hate.

They come into this world knowing nothing except curiosity. It is through the guidance of adults that children learn and grow.

Those that are born to honest parents learn the beauty and kindness that is the world and life. The unfortunate ones, who are born to those of dishonesty, learn the ignorance and devastation of the world they made their own.

The children that were born to the parents of Ludlow were no exception to this rule. Especially, when they noticed how their parents took it upon themselves for them to never get any near the strange girl who wore a red cloak.

Naturally, when a child is told not to do something it awakens their curiosity to do the total opposite. Than again this childish trait seems to carry onto adulthood.

Childish games—always labeled innocent fun in its most simplistic definition was cruelty. Victoria had been the target of all those childish games from piggy backing (jumping on her back and making sure her face fills in the mud) to red ball (throwing rotten apples or tomatoes at her). There were many more; however, the worst was when they formed a circle around her and sang Victoria’s Song.

 Who is the freak that lives in the village?

Victoria Red Victoria Red

Who has no parents that left her so?

Victoria Red Victoria Red

Who is the freak that lives in the village?

Victoria Red Victor Red

Who is the freak that’s hated so?

Victoria Red Victoria Red

This was the song they were singing on that faithful day.

Mud was caked upon her face and tangled in her hair when Andrew Mitchel and his friends had piggy backed her earlier. She didn’t cry, because it would make the whole situation worst. Holding herself tight, protecting herself from the impact of the rotten fruit that was thrown her way.

That horrid song begun to slip from their lips as they ran around her like the villains they truly were.

She prayed to the Father to quicken their taunts she did not want to explain to her grandmother why she was in such a dishevel mess.

“Leave her alone!” the voice ripped through the song and laughter of her tormentors.

Victoria kept her eyes closed hoping against hope that this wasn’t her imagination running wild.

That someone with some sort of soul noticed the injustice that she was facing.

“What’s it too you Johansson!” yelled Andrew Mitchel the ringleader.

“Leave her alone! You know she can’t fight back so leave her be!”

“You’re protecting this freak! Your aunt had to tell you to stay away from her just like my parents!”

“Yet here you are bothering her despite what your parents said. Now leave her alone!”

“Or do--” Andrew didn’t finish his statement for his face connected to David’s fist causing blood to spill from his nose.

Victoria had by then took her time to see the altercation and she was shock. Never once had she seen anyone stood up to Andrew Mitchel let alone punch him.

This had caused everyone to clear out, Andrew being carried by his friends, with the threats of telling his father in the background.

Victoria looked at the boy who was two years older then her. His nostrils were flared with his fist tightening as he looked towards the crowd.

When the last of the village children had cleared from view he had turned towards the bewilder girl mudded with puffy eyes.

His parents had always told him not to associate with the girl; however, they also said never to join the children in taunting the girl. The Father had not wished favor on her in this life, and so he shouldn’t make it worst by taunting her like those brats. He had watched quietly in the past how the children taunted the little girl in the red cloak when their parents weren’t around to see. This wasn’t the first time he had seen her cover in mud and rotten fruit. Nor, him hearing the song that the children sang—too his surprise he heard the very parents sing the song with such merriment than their children.

He never acted until now.

His parents were with the Father and his children and like so many in the same position before him he had to grow up faster than the other children. He had to take care of and protect his baby sister’s. His childish ignorance was growing into maturity of the real world.

That meant his perception of everything was growing as well. He had seen the girl around the village; she stayed to herself, silent, always helping her grandmother out, she was an orphan just like him—alone.

As he came up the winding road with the logs for Mr. MacArthur he had saw the crowd of children and heard their songs. He wasn’t going to act—but…the look of absolute defeat shined bright in the little girl’s eyes. Along with a deep sadness that seem so endless.

He thought about his sisters being in her position alone and unprotected. A cloud formed within him filled with disgust and repress anger.

Not at the crowd of children…but…himself.

Silence.

He had been silent to this scene so many times—feeling sympathy towards the girl when he should have acted; after all he would have wanted someone to act for his sisters. That was all the motivation that he needed to drop the wood in his hand and to march towards the crowd.

David turned around towards the dishevel girl. The fire within him silence as he looked at her as though she was of his own blood.

He held his hand out towards her.

She looked at it—confusion so clear across her face; never once anyone ever wanted her to touch them.

“I won’t harm you…” his eyes warm and trusting conveying his message he spoke. What she did not know that her taking hold of his hand sealed a friendship between the two.

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Outside of Ludlow laid a meadow—filled with the glory and beauty that only the Father could grace and show his love despite being over looked by the undeserving, which is man.  Despite its beauty the villagers never visited the meadow, for it offer no protection by those creatures if they so happen to attack. Due to their fear and ignorance, and the false sense of self-preservation the villagers left the meadow alone in its simplicity and beauty. The exception came in the forms of both David and Victoria, who had claimed this piece of paradise for their own. The meadow became a safe haven; away from the troubles of life and the poison that was Ludlow.

“Edger! Edger! Edger?”

“Repeating his name won’t change that his part of the Nightstalker’s,” biting her bottom lip trying to steady herself from the laughter that wanted to spill, while trying not to cut herself with the knife she was using to carve the wood.

“But it’s Edger Mathews! The same person who would run at the very sight of his own shadow!”

The chuckle slipped from her lips nodding her head to her friend’s assertion.

“I find this unfair!” he said dejectedly.

The knifed stilled. A deep sigh had come forth. Victoria regretted brining up this subject to David’s attention. However, knowing how the village spread information David would had found out—and it would have been a never-ending on his part about Edger Mathews joining the Nightstalker’s.

The Nightstalker’s.

She did not see the glory and pride of joining such a group. The very mention of their name brought this unknowing disgust within her. They were ruthless to the very people they sworn to protect. The many times they had station in Ludlow, their actions had been deplorable in actions and words.

Victoria saw them as the thieves and murders; however, everyone in the village including David were under the illusion of grandeur of morality and justice. It was a topic that David and her constantly disagreed on.

David wanted to be a Nightstalker, for they were the men that boys aspired to be. Victoria knew it was simply blind worshipped. Her friend was not a man of war despite his build. He was a man of the land. His hands were made for life—not death.

Due to his circumstances he could not join, and Victoria thanked the father everyday. That noble light that shine brightly within her friend should not be tarnished by such a vile group.

David noticed his friends silence quickly deciding to leave the subject alone.

He did not want to disrupt their time together by arguing.

“Are you making another toy for the villages brats?” he smiled teasingly.

The tension that was once on her face disappeared instantly to have a brilliant smile in it’s stead.

“David!”

“They’re brats and you’re an angel for even making these lovely figurines for them,” he said seating himself beside her.

“I wouldn’t say an angel,” she whispered.

The slight shiver that took over her as his fingers took hold of her chin titling her head in his direction unnerved her.

The flutter in her stomach always came over her whenever he touched her or stare at her with the feeling that he was portraying now.

“You are an angel…one of the most precious being to walk amongst us lowly beings.” His voice was hush yet there was no teasing in his tone. He was serious in his statement.

He could never recall the time or hour when he realized that he was truly in love with Victoria. He knew the moment when he saved her from the disgusting antics of his peers that he wanted to protect her. As the years pass between them that protection became friendship and somehow in the middle of the passages in the book of life it turned into love.

He had stopped seeing her as that little girl who loved climbing trees, who didn’t cry when she got a scratch, but saw it as a badge of honor, and hated the notion that weakness was associated with being a female.

David had started the see her as the beautiful grown lady that she was becoming in front of his eyes.

She was graceful in her manner that it seemed as though the air manipulated her movements. Her voice was soft like the sound of wind chimes that it was always peaceful when she spoke. Her eyes held the contradicting trait of youth, but filled with the wisdom that came along with age. Victoria was slow to anger, but bold in speech and insight.

She was everything good and wonderful the personification of life in his eyes.

He loved her…yet…they could not be together.

 Her grandmother wouldn’t allow it.

Sylvia did not understand their friendship in the beginning—correction she still didn’t along with his aunt.

Sylvia and his aunt had both tried and still discourage their friendship.

 He knew without a doubt if he was to ask for Victoria’s hand; Sylvia would make sure that he was never in her company again.

When it comes to his Aunt Lydia that was a different story.

Somewhere within him knew that his aunt knew his true feelings about Victoria. She made sure that his interactions with her were at a minimal in the hopes of dissolving whatever attraction he felt.

If the Father permitted Sylvia to have mercy and allow him to marry her granddaughter; his aunt would make sure that he never was in contact with his sisters again.

That thought alone was what kept him from proclaiming himself to her. His sisters needed him the meager wages of his aunt was nothing for them to survive on. Caught in the bitter waves of his musing he had unknowingly caught the attention of Victoria.

The warm caress against his skin brought him back to the reality and the person he was next to. Those warm gray pools that could hook one’s soul and bind it to her submission. The glow from her complexion acknowledge that she was the child of earth and of the sun.

“David, are you with me?” her voice teasing him. Although he knew her statement meant something else deep within him it was as though she had said the words he yearned to hear fall from her lips.

Silently answering back, “always.”

“Sorry,” a sheepish grin that displayed all the boyish charm she adored.

A laughter came forth from those petals like lips that brought warmth and serenity within him. She tugged his right earlobe softly; something she’s done since they were children whenever his mind wonder.

A chuckle came forth; the happiness of being in her presence came forth from his lips and he adore these minutes of peace of being in her company. He might never experience the joy of being with her, but here in this meadow he could imagine she was truly his just for these few minutes.

Victoria was the first to recover, “I believe we should be heading back…you have work to do for Old Man Armstrong and grandmamma will be very cross if I come late due to foolish interactions with that boy.”

“Sylvia still consider me that boy?” he smiled as he stood from the ground holding his hand out for her.

“It wouldn’t be in her nature to call you anything else,” taking hold of his hand as he pulled her up.

In those short moments being so close to him. Victoria’s heart seems to beat at a rapid pace, the flutter within her became wild, and her senses became intoxicated by his smell. Musk and sand-wood mixed with perfection. She loved it.

Looking up to those orbs that caught her fancy and made her feel safe ever since that faithful day so long ago in her childhood.

They stared—caught in the enchantment of each other. One move could seal their lips with the thought that everybody be damned. This thought passed through both of them—the notion to kiss was so sweet and tempting…

Something took over her—a chill shot through her tugging at her senses. Warning her that someone was watching and that they were displease.  She turned her heads in the direction of the thick forest that surrounded the forest. Her eyes searched through the darkness to find the source of her discomfort, yet there was nothing there.

“David, let us leave I am not feeling so well,” she wanted to quiet this uneasy feeling and the quickest would be leaving the meadow.

David quickly came to himself taking notice of her discomfort and constant vigilance of the shadows in the wood.

He came to learn whenever Victoria was uneasy it came with a purpose. Pulling his axe close to his person and securing his arm around her incase of protection they made their way towards the village.

His vigilance of the pair steadfast even as he removed himself from the shadows that he hided himself. Emerald glare kept solely on the female…his sworn one. The time of bloom was quickly coming upon her in the next moon cycle—it was the time to claim her back to Selena’s children.