The Red Horse Of War

1 The Man In Red

 "Once a long, long time ago...

There was once a girl who was born the day the first war started. Her name was Ira Bellum, and this is the story of how she died.

She was born in a small city on an island that is now long lost to time, millenniums before the first recorded day, but as the many millenniums passed she grew to forget the people, a first places she used to know, no matter how hard tried to she couldn't remember it all, only some parts.

When Ira Bellum was born, she had hair that mirrored the three crows that sat on the window sill the day she was born, Her eyes were so dark brown they were almost black like the tall sturdy trees that surrounded the village she was born in, and amber skin that was shockingly pale for where she was born, she looked nothing like her older siblings or anyone else in the entire village. Since the day she was born she was always considered an outsider, by her family, peers, and neighbors, simply because of how differently she looked, everyone thought her mother had laid with another man because of how different she looked, even her siblings and father were believing the rumors. She aged alongside the war and grew to love it.

Her earliest memory was a few days before her third birthday. The day her father, if you could call him that, left not being able to bear the thought of raising his wife's daughter completely refusing to say Ira was his, no matter how much his wife promised that Ira was his but he wouldn't listen, and so he left, but not before he pushed the almost three year old onto the ground. He left his four children and his wife, the last words that any of them heard from him were as he walked out the door and yelled. "I'M NOT RAISING THAT, THAT;" He paused for a minute to catch his breath and think of the right words. "THAT THING! WHY DON'T YOU GET HER REAL FATHER TO RAISE IT?!" After that day her siblings and mother grew to resent Ira Bellum, blaming her for their father and husband leaving. And that night became the one and only memory Ira Bellum has of her father if you could even call him that anymore.

She had never known what it was like to have a family that loved her, one that did not hate her, and yelled at her all the time. A few months after her seventh birthday the war ended, she cried and whilst her eyes were full of tears she ran across the bridge over the river and sat by a tree till the sun fell, full of woe and sorrow, too busy crying to see the lone crow flying above looking over at her. As she was sitting at the base of the tree she heard a voice. "Hello child, what's with the sorrow? Everyone cheers with glee, all but you. Why child?" a voice questions. The rough and ragged voice strangely calms her slightly. She jumped in surprise and looked up and as she did so, she saw a person dressed in red armor.

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