In a world where tradition binds and love defies, Rose, a spirited young woman, disguises herself as a man to join the Wolf King's army. Driven by a desperate need to find her lost brother, she embarks on a dangerous journey & facing treacherous foe...
The market square buzzed with the vibrant energy of merchants and villagers. The air was filled with the mingling scents of fresh bread, herbs, and the occasional whiff of incense from a traveling vendor. Among the throngs, a family stood together, examining the wares laid out on a wooden stall.
"Look, Rose!" her father, Lupo, called out with a warm smile, holding up a beautifully crafted doll. It had delicate features and wore a tiny dress made of blue silk, adorned with silver threads that glimmered in the sunlight. "Isn't she lovely? Just like you."
Rose, a bright-eyed ten-year-old with an unruly mop of dark hair, looked at the doll. She forced a smile, trying to match her father's enthusiasm, but her eyes wandered to the other side of the stall. There, her younger brother, Alex, clutched a small wooden sword, swishing it through the air with glee.
"Look, Father! I'm a warrior!" Alex exclaimed, pretending to battle an invisible foe.
Rose's eyes sparkled with envy. "Father, can I have a sword too?" she asked, her voice hopeful.
Her mother, Lyria, interjected before Lupo could respond. "No, Rose," she said sternly. "It's not proper for a girl to play with swords. Dolls are for girls. Swords are for boys."
Rose's shoulders slumped, and she looked down at the doll in her hands. It felt wrong, like it didn't belong to her. She glanced back up at her father, her eyes pleading. "But Mother, I don't want a doll. I want to be a warrior like Alex."
Lyria's face hardened, and she crossed her arms. "Enough, Rose. You must learn to behave like a proper young lady. It is not womanly to play with swords."
A silence settled between them, the bustling market fading into the background. Rose felt a knot tighten in her chest. She looked to her father, her last hope. "Father, am I wrong for wanting to play with swords?"
Lupo knelt down to her level, his eyes gentle and wise. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice soft but firm. "Rose, the Moon Goddess blessed every werewolf with power," he began, his gaze steady on hers. "She did not bless us differently because we are male or female. What matters is what we make of that power. Each of us has the freedom to choose our own path."
Rose's eyes widened, and a small smile crept onto her face. "So, I can be a warrior if I want to?"
Lupo nodded. "Yes, my dear. You can be anything you wish. The sword, the doll-they are just symbols. What matters is the strength in here," he said, placing a hand over her heart. "And the courage to follow your own path."
Lyria frowned but said nothing. She glanced away, her expression conflicted. Rose, however, felt a surge of determination. She looked at the doll one last time, then set it gently back on the stall. She reached over and picked up a small wooden sword, identical to the one Alex held.
"I'll take this, please," she said, her voice steady and confident.
Lupo smiled and nodded, handing a few coins to the merchant. As they walked away from the stall, Rose couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom, the weight of the sword in her hand a comforting reminder of her newfound resolve.
As the family left the market square, Rose glanced up at the sky, where the first sliver of the moon was beginning to show. The Moon Goddess watched over them all, and Rose knew that, no matter what path she chose, she would make her own destiny.
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---------------------- Author's note:
My dear reader,
This is my first completed story. Please vote and support me to write more.
Do you have a childhood memory that you are very fond of?
