A Lion's Heart (Hiatus)

Never Again

Allegra always dreaded the nights when the moon turned red, bathing the village in a foreboding crimson glow. These were the nights when the School Master came, cloaked in shadow, to take two more children from their homes. As the dreaded evening approached, Allegra's anxiety deepened. This wasn't just another tale spun by the villagers; it was a living nightmare she had experienced first-hand. She knew all too well the devastating reality of these nights, and the helplessness they brought. Perhaps that was why, when Phoebe, the baker's daughter, whispered her feelings in a secluded alley between Butterby's Bakery and Taylor's Tailors, Allegra reacted so coldly.

The alley was dimly lit by the flickering light of a lone lantern, casting long shadows on the cobblestone ground. Phoebe, a plump girl with rosy cheeks and flour-dusted hair, hesitated for a moment before speaking. Her voice trembled as she confessed her love, her eyes shining with hope. She had baked a special batch of honey cakes for Allegra, wrapped neatly in a brown paper bag, that she had given the woman upon her arrival as sweet symbol of her affection.

"Love? You must be foolish if you think someone like me can feel such emotions," Allegra retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. Her scarred face twisted into a sneer, the jagged scar on her upper left lip contorting her expression grotesquely. It was a reminder of a past she could never escape, a constant symbol of the danger and pain that lurked in her world. She reached out, her hand gentle at first as she caressed Phoebe's cheek. The softness of Phoebe's skin contrasted sharply with Allegra's rough, calloused hands.

Allegra's fingers trailed down to Phoebe's neck, and suddenly, her grip tightened. She felt the pulse beneath her fingers quicken, a palpable sign of Phoebe's fear. It gave her a perverse sense of power, a fleeting feeling of control in a life otherwise dictated by forces beyond her command. "It's time to stop this nonsense," she continued, her voice cold and detached. "You should stop stringing along that dairy farmer boy, and settle down. He may not make your heart flutter, but he'll give you the child you've always wanted. It may not be a fairy tale ending, but it's the closest you'll get here. You'll never find it with me."

She released her grip, stepping back as Phoebe stood trembling, tears welling in her eyes. Allegra's heart ached at the sight, but she hardened herself against it. She couldn't afford to let her emotions get the better of her. "Besides, can you imagine walking through town holding a witch's hand? You'd be shunned and ridiculed. It's better this way," Allegra said, her voice softening slightly, a hint of regret slipping through. She turned away, unwilling to witness the full extent of the hurt she had caused. The pain in Phoebe's eyes was too much to bear, a reflection of the deep wounds Allegra carried within herself.

As she walked away, Allegra glanced at the bag of honey cakes Phoebe had given her. She considered tossing them into the trash, but her resolve faltered. The gesture was too sincere, too filled with love and care to discard so easily. She clutched the bag tightly, the aroma of the sweet treats wafting up to her. They were a bittersweet reminder of what she had just done, a decision she felt was necessary, yet deeply painful.

Allegra sighed heavily, her breath misting in the cool night air as she looked up at the blood-red sky. The colour seemed to seep into everything, a harbinger of doom that hung over the village like a curse. She had to get moving; there was no time to dwell on her own feelings. Her little sister, Agatha, needed her protection tonight. With renewed determination, she made her way through the forest path, her steps quick and sure. The path was familiar, lined with gnarled trees and thick underbrush, the scent of damp earth and pine filling the air. She knew every twist and turn, every hidden root that could trip her up, a familiarity born of countless nights spent wandering these woods.

As Allegra approached the edge of the forest, she could hear the village men mustering, their voices tense and fearful. They were armed with whatever weapons they could find—swords, bows and arrows, axes, and pitchforks. They formed a ragged line, their torches casting a flickering light that barely penetrated the darkness. They were preparing for the School Master's arrival, a futile effort to protect their children from his grasp. Allegra scoffed at their naivety. She knew better than anyone that no amount of preparation could stop the School Master. He was a force of nature, inevitable and unstoppable. The scars on her body were proof of that. And yet, even knowing so, it wouldn't stop her from trying to save her own sister from such a fate.