The Ash Tree - A Witcher FanFiction

{01}

My eyes burst open, startled by the bump on the road.

Moving. I'm moving.

I heard the rattling of the wooden carriage as it went down the road, the horse neighed.

I coughed, wheezed, my body ached.

The driver, an old man, turned to look at me a moment. Sweat trickled down his face.

"Ah, you're awake dear. We'll be home in a bit, dontcha worry."

Home?

Then I remembered.

My heart started pounding.

Heat filled my eyes.

So I took deep breaths.

I stared at the trees around us, the sun shining through their leaves. 

I was sweating too.

Then I heard talking.

People talking.

 Survivors? I hoped.

The carriage stopped, the driver stepped down and pulled me from the back.

Grain and grass were stuck in my messy, dark hair.

I tried pulling it out, silver-white streaks in my locks, not there before.

Where am I?

Passersby stared at me in awe. They looked at my bloodied, ashen mess of a self, eyes agape.

They muttered.

"Poor dear, caught up in that fire."

"Where are her parents?"

"It's been smoking a couple of days now."

A woman approached us, ushering the old man over to her home. They muttered some words to each other, though I couldn't remember what.

I was set down on a bed, small, but more comfortable than the one at home.

Home.

"Leave us," the woman said, wiping me with a wet cloth.

I eyed the room half-awake, herbs hung from the ceiling, bottles of powders everywhere.

I crow watched from the window.

"What's your name dearie?"

I replied weakly, "it's Mira...Mirabel. But mother called me Honeysuckle."

The woman smiled, "well Mira, don't worry, you're safe. We'll get you cleaned up, and something to eat."

I smiled weakly, "thank you."

"Did your mother tell you about this?" She asked, eying the dried blood between my legs.

"She said I wasn't dying," I replied.

"Oh, of course not," she chuckled, "every girl goes through this at a certain age. It's a time when they grow."

"Grow?"

"Yes, you're a woman now. Maelo found you on the side of the road, said you must have been there a couple of days. That's why there's no more blood coming out, it'll come again next month though. We call it a cycle, Mira. It's a time of regrowth, rejuvenation."

She wiped my face with a wet cloth, rubbing away the blood, dried tears, and ash.

"Horrible they are, those Nilfgaardians. Needless violence I say. Burning that poor village, the innocent..."