They chased her.
Dark shadows danced menacingly through the eerie mist of the woods. Through the trees, they were both illuminated and distorted by the harsh, erratic glow of the firelight behind. Like a flippant whip, it flickered over her skin, making her a momentary beacon to her enemies. Breath quickening as the throttled cries behind her grew louder, she picked up her pace, thick puffs of fog circling her like a veil. As her toes crunched bare against the earth, she wondered how she'd got here. But one thing was clear: they wanted her.
The stench of ash clung heavily to her clothes. With each movement or swish of wind past her neck, the smell rose up to her nose and with it the residues of a subdued memory. A soft cry escaped her lips as her foot tore blind against an object beneath. Collapsing to the ground, she inspected her sole. Her blood seemed to glimmer under hazy cast of the moon, as it trickled slowly, turning cool against the night air. From where she sat, the torches seemed to move away from her, taking with them a fury of red, orange and fulvous. The relief that seared through her was quickly dilapidated, when something like a warning hissed in the rear of her mind, they will be back.
Tentatively, the girl ascended. Her eyes seemed to bypass the sudden spark that appeared as her injured foot re-connected with the earth. It was the crumple of paper in her pocket that became apparent to her. She didn't need to read the name on the note. The delicate flake of snow that fell onto her outstretched palm was enough reminder. "Alexander", the breeze sighed with her. With hair the colour of silver light (contrasting his obvious youth), and eyes, the bluest orbs she'd ever seen, he'd looked almost celestial. Too bad looks could be deceiving.
The snow on her hand remained unchanging as she waited for it to melt. She believed her love for Alex had been that way once. At least until his tongue slipped, pouring out the secrets he'd promised to keep hidden. Narrowing her eyes at the memory, she willed the flake to melt, but instead it crumbled into nothingness. Even the abilities that had cursed her had now forsaken her.
In the closing distance, shouts rose high above the crackle of burning wood as she neared the perimeter of the forest. Before her, a fire rose several feet above a trail of charred houses, gyrating tauntingly like a mass of malevolent spirits. Black smoke spewed from it, curling upwards as more white flakes cascaded down. It was then that it dawned on her that it had not been snow that fell before, but the ash of her beloved town. Unknowingly, she had protected herself from suffocation and deluded herself into thinking what'd really been smoke was fog.
The hunters gathered around her, torches in hand, and she lowered her defences, allowing the fumes to sting her eyes and choke her lungs. People feared what they didn't understand. They backed her closer to the fire and, raising her arms, she willed the blaze to envelop them in a scorching embrace. She glared into each of their horrified faces as the heat increased. They had done this to the town and now they would pay, for 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'.
***
Author's note:
Hey there,
Thanks for reading this short narrative. I wrote it for writing competition (unfortunately I didn't win) but I thought I'd post it on here anyway since it's the most recent piece I've written and actually taken the time edit thoroughly.
Yours faithfully,
Fuzzy1999 :-)
