The Fiery Betrayal

Under the light of the moon that poked through the bare trees, she ran. Branches whipped her face, which she barely felt. Her cheeks were numb from the cold and wet from the mixture of tears and blood. Yet, she ran, because behind her, she could hear the shouts of angry villagers and the barks of excited canines.

They'd accused her of being a witch. They'd attacked her in her home. Murdered her husband for trying to defend her. Murdered her children. Then torched her house, with her and the bodies inside. Despite her injuries, she'd escaped. And now, they chased her through the forest, intent on finishing what they'd started.

Her foot caught a tree root, and sent her flying. She tumbled down a short unexpected hill. Towards the bottom, her right arm hit a tree trunk. The crunch of the bone breaking was louder in her ears than that of the leaves and sticks she landed on.

She panted as she rolled to her knees. Pain shot through her entire body when she tried to move her arm. She whimpered, to stifle the scream. A bark rang out through the trees, still distant, but much closer than she liked. She forced herself up, though the movement made bile rise up in her throat. Covered in mud, blood, sweat, and tears, with leaves sticking to her clothes, she limped onward. She knew they were going to catch her, she just needed to make it to...

She stumbled through a break in the trees. Into a large roughly-circular clearing with a frozen pond. She stopped once more, nearly mesmerized. The way the moonlight hit the ice gave the area an almost majestic appeal. Another bark, much closer, snapped her back to reality. Too close.

The pond wasn't big by any means, but if she made it across the center, she could get another lead. Or.... She glanced back, before cautiously tapping her numb toes on the ice. She stepped out, putting both feed flat. A calm washed over her, a surge of power zapped up her spine. She knew exactly what she was going to do. So she continued forward, quickly.

She was roughly halfway when the first dog broke through the brush behind her. She didn't look, but knew it had stopped on the shore. The shouting mob and rest of the pack joined, slinging jeers and taunts meant to scare her, that only made her angrier. The noise died down, one man whistling to silence the others and the dogs.

"Come on back here, witch!" one shouted. "You won't get away. We'll catch you by daybreak!"

"We promise to make it quick!" another chimed in.

"And painful!" added another, causing the whole group to rumble with laughter.

She frowned, but stopped and turned. There were roughly 30 men, and ten dogs. Despite the pain in her arm, the panic and fear she'd felt just moments before was gone. Replaced with calmness, confidence. Power. The air around her hummed faintly, feeling almost electrically charged.

She kept her broken arm, hugged to her body, but lowered the other, spreading out her fingers. The men kept shouting, taunting, but she was focused on her thoughts. Her husband's sobs. The screams of her child. The roar of the flames. All of it echoed in her mind. Her rage bubbled up. Initially, she'd only planned on defending herself. Now? She wanted revenge.

"We could always just break the ice, let her drown." someone suggested.

She smiled. The surface ice cracked, spread, racing towards the shore. A murmur rippled through the men as their fear spiked. She could smell it. They were realizing just how right they were when they called her "witch".

"You. Murdered. My. Children. MY CHILDREN." she said calmly, though somehow, her words echoed off the trees. The men stepped back collectively. The dogs whimpered, pulling against those that held them. "You WILL face retribution."

The ice shattered, all except for the circle around her feet. The wind picked up, whipping her hair and the flames of the torches. The men were frozen in place, by fear, mostly, but also the thin layer of ice that crept up the bank, up their feet and legs. The dogs took advantage of the sudden slack and took off back into the trees.

She twitched her hand, barely, and the ice formed spikes, pointed at the men. She narrowed her eyes, looking at each one. Her rage reached it's limit and poured out. They'd been friends with her husband. She'd helped their wives through childbirth. They'd betrayed her, her family. They'd killed her innocent children.

She felt the ice creep up her arms, her legs. She mentally pushed it to encase her aching heart, to stifle the pain she felt. She scowled, and with the snap of her fingers, the ice spikes shots across the pond. The men let out bloodcurdling screams, that were abruptly cut short, as they were simultaneously impaled. The ice spread from the inside out, turning them into statues.

She threw her head back, letting out a wail of anguish that scared nearby birds out of their trees. She felt the ice around her heart tighten. With a thought, the ice under her feet moved toward the bank. She stepped off, walking between the ice statues, a smile playing at her lips. She turned to look at the pond, letting out a sigh. The men melted, the water running back into the pond itself. Before her eyes, it froze over once more, as if nothing had happened. With another, sinister grin, she started the way she had come. Toward the village. Vengeance still at the forefront of her mind.