Joyce stumbled home from school, it was Friday. But Joyce was angry. The buses had broken down and whoever had a hone within five miles of school had a walkback to home. Jayna Emeril, Joyce's best friend walked by her side, mahogany hair swinging about. Joyce's beautiful black mane was now a plastic blond. She was suffering from a bad dye job that was accidental a few weeks ago. She was at a sleep over and they decided to highlight their hair blonde. Violet mixed the dye and Joyce's friend Hope had deftly applied the dye.
But something went wrong.
Joyce's hair had been too fragile. And she panicked as hair fell consistently. She quickly washed the dye off but was shocked. Her dye job was horrific. A layer thinner, Joyce's hair was a milky blonde her black roots stretching out a few inches. She had almost cried. But she kept it, daring anyone to say anything. Twelve years old Joyce was barely in middle school but had big dreams. She believed in magic and real magic, mind you. Every twig was a possible magic wand and invisible water flowed everytime she flicked a finger. She could bend air as well as fire. Jayna usually wanted to play the cunning enchantress and Joyce played the unlikely underdog. She loved everything from Shadowhunters to She Wolves.
Jayna flicked her phone out and groaned.
"Already five minutes late"
"Ugh we have such a load"
Joyce shifted her forest green backpack uncomfortably around and Jayna adjusted the strap of her magenta one. But suddenly Joyce felt funny. Like her stomach was taut and someone was strumming it. She paused and the feeling was now vibrating her whole rib cage. Jayna curiously looked over at her and began to speak but was cut off. The ground was unsteady and shook the girls. The dirt path rumbled but didn't hold. Joyce's feet were being swallowed by the grainy dirt and Jayna screamed. Grabbing Joyce's arm she strained with effort. But the terrain prevailed. The girls fell.
Fell into darkness.
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"Wakeupwakeupwakeup" a tinny female voice hushed their name.
Joyce's brownish greenish eyes flickered back to ON. Her bearings were blurry but she clasped Jayna's hand, looking for as much support as possible. Jayna's eyes flew open and Joyce breathed a sigh. At least her friend was okay. The tinny voice hardened.
"Why are you here. Callis said she'd send warriors. Not skimpy girls."
Joyce focused on the girl she had cappuccino colored hair and a bloodred cape accented with white fur. The girl straightned. Her chiseled face was unnaturally bruised. Like a princess gone wrong. Her killer eyes burned through Joyce but she was too curious to flinch.
"I am Red Redhood," the girl said. "Commander in training of Endervale's army, who are you? That's a direct order."
Jayna snickered. "Red Redhood!?" She took a moment to laugh. "Some serious redundancy skills." Red did not laugh. She picked Jayna up by the collar of her purple sweatshirt and whispered so quietly that Joyce had to strain to hear.
"I am the youngest of all living Endervale royalty to train my entire life to just be acquainted with the Endertale Author. Excuse my hostility," she spat. "I don't usually even look at regular mundane girls." And with that she dropped Jayna. Joyce narrowed her eyes and shoved Red.
"My name is Joyce Cambridge," Joyce hissed. "I don't care if you're a wannabe toughie. You don't push aside others because you're some spoiled royal brat!" She took a breath. "Nice name by the way. Real artistic naming for such a colorless person." Red's eyes glinted with malice. She looked amused rather than threatened.
"Look girl," she said disdainfully. "My boss said that she'd send reinforcements at the Trueblood Thicket. And here I am, just blessed with two worthless-" she stopped herself.
"Look at me," she muttered. " Wasting my priceless breath getting mad at stupid girls." Joyce crinkled her nose.
"Who exactly did you descend from, highness?" Joyce said sharply. Red smiled humorlessly.
"Glad that you address me by my royal placement," Red started menacingly. "I descend from a notorious hero that all of Endervale is indebted to. Veronica Redhood, wolf slayer,also known as my mother." She looked wistfully in the distance of Trueblood Thicket.
"She started killing when she was just nine years old, when she was going to visit her grandmother. And a wolf just popped out of the thicket. This thicket, in fact. She shooed him off with a flare of her silver knife. Silver is deadly to wolves. Or wolverines to be specific. Half man half wolf. Half monster. The wolf ran but didn't hide. He followed my mother. All the way to her Grandmothers house. He locked my mom out before she got there. Mimicking her gran's voice he slid a key somehow slick with blood under the door. 'Come in Nicky, Veronica? Nicky dear.' My mother slowly unlocked the door to see her gran's corpse. The wolf had murdered her, mouth red and fresh. My mother was fearless. She brandished her silver knife and cut it's throat. It died right there. This is the story of Veronica Redhood, now the commissioner of the army of Endervale. She's called Little Red Riding Hood in your stupid version but that is far from reality. The huntsman was never there. My mother was never that innocent or fragile. Her grandmother was murdered." Red's mouth twitched.
"I am her only present descendant," my siblings Silvera and Scarlet left to be assassins for another village. Infested with werewolves."
"And about my name," Red smiled. "It's short for Veronica Redhood Junior. Just thought Red would be more symbolic." Joyce and Jayna were bamboozled by the gory tale and the sudden introduction. And Jayna shook her head.
"What's Endervale?" She said quietly.
Red chuckled. "Got a little to friendly to you huh?" She said coldly. "You mundanes just stay where you are. Don't move or I will kill you. Kill you with the same silver arrows that slew a band of werewolves."
