Honey Badger

01

"Such a shame."

        My ears rung at the sound of the only sentence people could muster when I passed by. Yes, what a shame. My blue eyes kept on the ground, irritation flustering my cheeks as I pushed through the crowd of people. Dark brown mud tracked on the ends of my white, tattered gown, desperately clawing to my knees.
        It's been two years since my mother's passing. They excused her death as just another tax of this world, but payed closer mind to Sir Gallow's tragic demise. When they found us, I was a frail 8 year old girl with trauma pooling at her eyes. They wouldn't even entertain the thought of me killing him. Who would?
        No, they all thought Mother and him had a grim fight. A battle of strength, where the two of them lost. I also happened to set it up that way. Dragging Mother's body from the crumpled wall, to beside him. Trying to pose it in a way that looked like Mother fought til the very end, that she took his life along with his.
        They called her a siren.
        A woman who spoke soft promises into his ear and led him to his death. They thought he saw her clearly at the end. That he snapped out of it and fought back. Alas, I knew the truth. He never saw her for what she was, even on his deathbed. He didn't even muster an apology, didn't even look like he regretted it.
        But, I'm alive.
        I'm alive and pushing my way through this hell they call a life. Begging for scraps from merchants and other passerby's. Hoping to at least see a crumb, or even an apple core. Anything would do.
        Shortly after Mother's death, I started to see the world she tried so hard to protect me from. The world she sacrificed her own flesh for. It's awful. The smell of horse shit and sweat. The shady eyes of someone looking for a pocket that's just a little bit full. I can't bother thinking of how to survive another winter month, but the chilly mornings are an eery reminder that it's approaching.
        A body abruptly crashed into mine, spiking me out of my wandering thoughts. My small frame crumpling to the floor, a painful reality check to my frail self. Anger set a storm in my gaze as I glare upwards to the culprit.
        A flame.
        My breath hitched, my frustrations melting away in an instant. The woman who towered before me was not from here. Her fiery red locks viciously being swept by the oncoming winds, her green eyes alike to a serpent's. Her jade colored cloak was neatly buttoned at her chest, the hem a striking gold of many swirled designs. A sable dress hugging her slimmed figure, made of beautiful silk spun by the best merchants.
        She was noble.
        And I had met her gaze without a single thought.
        "I apologize," I immediately dipped my head down, my voice sounding meeker than a mouse.
        "Ah," the woman jutted out a short laugh, "the fault is all mine." My gaze kept to the ground, my body bent over in a groveling way.
        "Tsk," a new voice sounded. My blue orbs momentarily flick to the other figure beside her, out of the corner of my eye I can address he's a guard.
        "Rise, child," the woman sounds again, "let me get a good look at you." I do as I'm told, shakily finding my grounding and standing as tall as my 12 year old body could. I wanted to appear grown, respectable. My line of sight, however, was everywhere but her eyes.
        "Lady Vira," the guard started again, "don't waste your time with this.. peasant." I could practically hear the disgust as he pushed forth the label, his eyes burning a hole in my head. She went quiet a moment, her head tilted to give him a once-over, before returning to me.
        "What's your name, girl?" She sounded light, airy.
Dangerous. A small voice sounded in my head.
        "Akira." I sounded sure of myself, confident. My eyes found themselves at the frame of her face. She was beautiful, an angel, even. I could feel my ears turn hot, my legs feeling as if they'd give out on me. By this time, the market had calmed, the citizens clearing away from us. They knew nobles were trouble.
        "Akira.." she tested the name out, "where are your parents? I can't imagine a young girl like you running around unattended." My eyebrow twitched. The first irritation was the topic of my parents. The second, she thought I was weak.
        "Father left long ago," I start, my gaze beginning to molt with anger, "My mother is dead." She stared at me in silence for a few moments, as if sizing me up.
        "I like that look in your eyes," she flaunted a smile, "can you keep that fire?" The question caught me off guard. Keep my fire? No one has said that to me.
"You're full of red." My mother's soft voice rung out in the walls of my mind.
        "It kept me alive," I exhaled, "it is a part of me." I probably just seemed to be a boasting child. A young girl with too many fantasies swirling in her head. But to me, this is my reality. I was born with more red than most.
        "Do you have a home?" Her question floated in the air a moment, as I was too bewildered to grasp it.
       "The streets are my home." I reply, images of my past home rumbling through my brain like a caged tiger.
        "Would you like to come with me, Akira?" She squinted down at me, as if trying to guess my answer. I stood there for a moment, not fully understanding.
        "Come with you? To where?" I furrowed my brows. What was this noble offering me?
        "My home, of course. And possibly yours too." She offered a soft smile, the softest I've seen in a while. It was calming, almost like a warm fire in the winter.
        "Lady Vira, you can't be serious-." The guard began to offer a protest, but with the wave of Lady Vira's hand, it was over in a second.
        "Why would you offer me that?" My voice was nothing but a whisper, my eyes finding my bare toes once again.
        "Come with me," she placed a soft hand on my head, "and I'll show you." I swallowed the lump in my throat. Is this real? Could I go with her? It was a small glimmer of hope for my greedy hands.
        "Yes," I balled my fists at my sides, "please, take me with you." Lady Vira's expression turned triumphant, withdrawing her delicate hand from my knotted blonde hair.
        "Then come," she turned, lifting the hood of her cloak to her head, "let's leave this place, Akira." She began to walk forward, away from me. Anxiety clung in my chest at the idea of her leaving me behind, so my feet began to storm forward. Towards her. Towards home.