The Woods

Chapter 2 - Womanhood

Threads of white intertwined to make cloth. White; pure and virtuous.

Liquid, dark sanguine in colour, slides along the threads and strands invading the innocent serenity of the white maternal blank.

White and Red.

They fought over the strands. Red was strong, too strong for the innocence of white.

Scarlet lay peacefully on the hard wooden floor boards. The wood creaked as she awoke. Widening eyes stared at the bloody stain. Her white cloak ruined, stained with blood. She sat alert, sadden by the dramatic end of her childhood and the wreckage of her prized cloak. She cried. Tears rolled down her soft skin, picking up residue from the hard day. The stairs creaked, as Scarlets mother hastily pondered up them. No sooner than hearing the footsteps the heavy oak door opened revealing a tall, tight lipped woman.

"Scarlet are you alright? I heard a bang..." she projected as she fiddled with her apron and walked blissfully into the room. She was a haughty women, very proud. She looked down on Grecorgia with disdain, she hated the place, she thought it an incarceration to be brought here by her late husband. Scarlets father Laryn had died many years ago in the war, by which the kingdoms had divided. Scarlet shifted uneasily; hastily trying to hide the stain. But, it was too late. Her mother was vigil. She was thankful that Scarlet had bled. Finally she thought; fifteen was a late age to start, girls were know to start as young as ten. Scarlet stared, her dark brown eyes wide as she gazed frightened at her mother. Harsh, piercing blue eyes starred back at her, glazed and attentive. Salt water flooded into the dark chocolate. Continuously flowing; creating a wave at the pale rouge wall. The wave rose high and overcame the wall and poured into the air, creating small translucent balls. Scarlet's mother; Katlyn, watched as her daughter broke down into a crazed state of sadness. Depression hit Scarlet subconsciously, it crept up on her similar to the way a leopard hunts a gazelle.

"There's no need to cry" said Katlyn in a harsh but sincere voice. "These things happen, you need to get used to it; now you're older" she spoke softly, but her mind was on something else she was somewhere else in her thoughts. Coming back to the present scenario Katlyn continued.

"Now, give me your cloak I'll..I'll dye it red, red always suited you"

Outside the rain continued, it pattered on the small glass window heavily. The street remained flooded. Vesper quickly rummaged through her cupboards desperately trying to find something to block the wild water surging in through the doorway. Darkness hung over Grecorgia, the moon rose in the sky illuminating the rushing water.

* * *

Footsteps echoed through the ornate hall, hard heels hit the stone floor, the sound resonated through the musty air. The children stood, staring at each other; as the light shone through in beams, which seemed solid, due to the high amount of dust which circled around the rafters. Prince Casden and Princess Acele had been betrothed from birth, and now they met in the presence of lords and nobles from both kingdoms. The marriage had been used to solve the problems between the kingdoms of Tsarstia and Quarstitar. The simmering pot, which was the kingdoms, had been cooled by matching the oldest children from each family. Casden was deemed to be married to Acele at 15. The children stared at each other sympathetically; they knew that the pressure between the two kingdoms lay on their young shoulders.

8 years later. Princess Acele had died. However, the cause of death was a much disputed matter. The kingdom of Quarstitar had changed over the years, it became a dark, dismal place rife with crime, misery and suffering. The Queen Varsintia was merciless, she destroyed those whom lay in her way, the people called her the 'Saricious' which is garseanan for devil or killer. Acele was frightened of her mother, the abhorrent leader. Quaria was known as the city of red or the 'Ranian Solicy', due to the blood which ran through the sandy streets and stained the bricks a deep shade of incarnadine. The streams ran from the Karnasiav. Varsintia believed that executions should take place in front of the religious building to condemn those whom had sinned.