The Flower that Bloomed in Winter

A Past Worth Remembering

There was once happiness in this place, where children would sing songs in the meadow and weave faerie houses out of grass and twigs. There was once song in the willow trees, with birds that would flap their wings with fervor, and sorceresses that would below their working songs. Smoke would rise from the brittle mud chimneys and the seasonal smells would permeate the air. In the winter you would smell ginger and cranberry, in the summers lemon and mint. Now, however, the only scent that billowed on the breeze was ashes that dusted everything in a fine snow. 

Her memories were painted in red. 

Her village was dying, crumbling beneath the boots of knights who were just carrying out orders. Gone were the bird songs and spells, replaced by the bellowing screams of a mage whose belly had been opened by a sword. 

She was only ten when a hand rattled at the silver knob, which had a chair propped beneath it. Her mother was with her, huddled in the corner, grasping their wands. "Cassia," she whispered, the lilt of her accent making the s in her name slither like a snake. "Cassia listen to me. You will take these and you will-"

A thud interrupted her, the door flying open, the chair that had been holding it in place splintered. Three men carried a tree stump between them, their faces obscured by masks. Cassia was all but ten years old when she was grabbed by the hair, long and purple, and forced to kneel in front of men whose armor was polished so brightly, it could have shone like the moon. 

The shine, however, was poisoned by the flecks of her village's demise. "Please," Cassia's Mother begged. She was on her knees, her hands clasped in front of her. "Please, spare my daughter." The knight threw Cassia aside, the child running towards her mother, only to be stopped by the second knight. "We are merely following orders." 

"No!" Cassia screamed, reaching forward in the same moment the sword of the third knight plunged into her mother's chest. Again and again, until her mother could no longer breathe. Her chest was a cavern, the place where a heart had once beat with lifeblood now empty and still. 

"What should we do with the child?" The third knight grumbled. Cassia could not breathe, she could not think. "You have your orders, kill her too." The first knight growled. "These creatures should not be allowed to live." 

Cassia bit the hand that moved towards her, reaching for her Mother's wand. A sword sliced at her fingers, Cassia's bitter scream stinging the wind. "What a tricky little child you are. How about we play a game since you like them so much?" The second knight asked, the red tuft on his helmet identifying him as their leader. 

"I will count to ten and you can run, run as fast and as far away from here as you can and maybe, if I cannot find you, we will not kill you."

"Please sir-"

"One." Cassia rose to her feet, stumbling. "Two," his voice followed her outside, haunting her as she fled. "Three!" He called, Cassia jumping between the bushes, running towards the woods. "Four!"

The sword came from nowhere, striking her down. Cassia screamed, her blood painting the grass. Her mouth tasted like metal, her left lung having been sliced open. "You loose."

"That-" Cassia coughed, "that is not fair." Her blood was sticky and warm beneath her. Her pretty white dress, woven from spider silk by her Mother, was drenched. "I had six seconds left."

"I cheated." Cassia closed her eyes, the sword hovering over her throat. Her scream was cut off when it plunged into her neck, freeing her head from her shoulders.