Scarlett's Curse

Once upon a time there was a girl who could not cry. Nor could she laugh or smile or frown or show any other emotion at all. She was just, numb. People say she is cursed, and maybe she is, for Death follows her wherever she goes, an ever-present shadow. Whoever is unfortunate enough to step into that shadow, seals their doom.

It started when she was just a child. Some say it started the day she was born. The sun had been shining and it was a beautiful, summer’s day; until the girl’s mother went into labor. Almost instantly, the sky darkened. At first the villagers had thought it just a passing summer storm, only it wasn’t. It was as though something evil had stolen the sun, swallowed it whole and left behind a black, empty void. Everything went deathly silent, still. Not even a leaf stirred. The villagers blamed it on the work of a malevolent sorcerer. Perhaps they were right, though, no one ever did find out. The darkness lasted a full twenty-four hours and when the light came again, the villagers begged the parents to get rid of the child, even offering to kill it for them. Horrified and afraid for their daughter’s safety, the couple bundled together what they could carry, wrapped up the child and fled into the forest.

She was named Scarlett and as she grew, it became apparent that she was not a normal child. Appearance wise, she was beautiful, if not strange with her dark red eyes. Wherever they went, those eyes would frighten all who looked upon them. She never spoke a word and her poor parents worried unceasingly for her. Despite her differences, they still loved and cherished their only daughter. All they wanted for her was happiness, yet they never once heard her laugh or saw her smile. She’d cried – when she’d been still able – and when she did, it stormed. Heavy clouds would blanket the sky and the thunder would bellow its contempt. Rain would pour in thick sheets and lightning would crack and sizzle in zigzagging slashes. Every village they came to shunned them, and things only got worse as Scarlett grew.

Her mother was the first to die. Scarlett was seven years old; and that was when she stopped crying. Her father, grief stricken, turned on the young girl. He took her far into the depths of the forest, and left her there. She watched him walk away with blank, lifeless eyes. For years, she wandered aimlessly, finding all sorts of towns and villages and as she did, the deaths became more frequent. Word of her existence spread and for the first time in history, the people were united against one enemy. An army was created to hunt her down and kill her on sight however, when they found her, Death caught them instead. Eventually, people realized it was better to just leave her alone. Watches were set on the walls to keep a look out for her, ordered to shoot if she came near. But Death didn’t want her. And so, Death took her to live a life of exile, to wait in the shadows for the random passing of strangers. They were few and far between, but woe to those who would cross her path.

One day, she stumbled across a place she had never been. If she could comprehend beauty, she would have been able to see it as such. The ground was hidden beneath a spread of soft, green grass. Drooping willow trees, resplendent in green coats, dotted the clearing and interspersed between were brightly coloured flowers. The sun shone down, making everything glow with a magical aura. A sense of wonder and mystery hung in the air, along with the perfumed scent of earth and the music from a crystal-clear stream, winding its way through the trees. But the beauty was lost on her. Death grew uneasy, feeling the benevolence seeping through its Reaper’s cloak. Scarlett sat down on a moss-covered rock, staring. The longer she sat there, something started to grow within her heart and soul. Slowly, something was awakening for the first time. She took a breath, a long inhale as though she had been starved of oxygen her entire life. Death gasped, feeling its hold loosen. Scarlett shook as body and mind came to terms with the new experience of feeling. Suddenly, fear gripped her. She became overwhelmed by a barrage of emotions she didn’t have names for. But she knew fear. She sucked in more air until, trembling, she fell.

Unconscious, she did not notice the approach of a magnificent creature. Death however, did. Standing before them was a stunning Pegasus in all its splendid glory of a pure, white coat that gleamed and shone like the moon. A white mane and tail cascaded in silky waves from head and rump, shining as though woven from stars. Even more impressive were the large, white, feathered wings sprouting from its back. Eyes of fire stared into the black abyss of Death’s hood.

“You are not welcome here,” the Pegasus said in a regal, commanding voice. The words crashed over Death like a powerful wave. “You will leave. Now.”

The last was spoken with such authority that Death cowered, hissing, “You brought her here on purpose.”

“Indeed. It is my duty to protect the innocent. You will leave and never return. Neither shall you hinder this girl again.”

Death howled, fighting to keep its grip but as the Pegasus moved closer, the Reaper grew weaker. Finally, Death could stand the assault no longer and fled. The Pegasus watched in noble satisfaction then shifted and, in a flash, a man stood in its place. He scooped Scarlett into muscular arms, holding her tightly against his sculpted torso. Scarlett’s eyes fluttered open. A strange sensation worked its way up her throat. Somehow, she knew it was her voice, sentient at last.

“Wh… Who are you?” she whispered hoarsely.

“I am Mishokee. You are free, Scarlett. Rest, for all is well.”

Scarlet stared in wonder up into this bewitching man’s blazing eyes. Slowly, cautiously, she reached out her hand and let her fingers caress his long, white hair.

“So soft,” she murmured.

Mishokee smiled gently at her. He had found a rose ensnared by thorns, a precious jewel encased in rough stone, trapped against her will. Now she was free to spread her wings and live. This woman was something precious and he was going to teach her how magical life could be; he was going to acquaint her with love.

Scarlet let her eyes slide shut once more; eyes that had once frightened people with their bloody hue but now, her closed lids concealed eyes the shade of liquid amber. She fell into a deep slumber, breathing steadily. For the first time, she was not swallowed by inky, black nothingness. Instead, she saw vivid colours, captivating images that moved so realistically. She saw eyes of fire and wings of white. For the first time, she dreamed.