The dirt in my mouth was salty and bitter, I puckered my lips and spat it out, only earning myself a mouthful more from a nearby foot.
"For crimes against your people and unnatural acts towards them, you will pay," I bit back a loud cry and felt a panic build up in me. I felt two hands grab my shoulders and yank me up from the ground, jerking my head around on my neck. They swung my small being around like a rag doll, the crowd of people blurring before my eyes, outlined by the red of the flames lighting the scene. Finally I stopped moving and I found my father's form and what I saw clawed at my heart like a great beast trying to escape. His normally cheerful, rich brown eyes were screaming and their pain trickled out the sides in tears. Next to him my mother was held limp in the arms of two alien men, her head hung low and her blonde hair swinging. But she was conscious, I could tell by the quaking of her shoulders as she sobbed.
"Please," my father's voice came out broken and shaking. "Don't make her watch, she is just a child." But his pleas fell to deaf ears and I squirmed trying to escape and turn away but a hand grabbed my hair and set my head pointing at them.
"Survived by one daughter, she will witness the consequences of your actions and then live in exile in the outskirts of the forests. Because of you." The great voice thundered and I felt a cry well up inside as they pulled my parents backwards. Ropes appeared from the dark pockets amongst the crowd and now there was new flame lighting the people but this one started at my parents feet.
"Jayana, I am so sorry," my father breathed and instead of struggling, defeat overwhelmed him and he rested heavily against his restraints.
"Jayana, we love you, don't forget that," my mother's voice caressed my ears and for a moment I closed my eyes and pretended that we were home and she was tucking me into bed, whispering those sweet words into my ear. Her deep blue eyes smiling down on me and my father watching protectively over her shoulder. But then her shrieking started and I made the mistake of opening my eyes, only to be consumed by the horror before me. The image of my parents burning paralyzed me, I couldn't look away, my mouth opened and a shrill scream reverberated from me.
I sat bolt upright in my small bed, a cry shaking my slight frame, their picture, alight with the flames was engraved into my mind. Haunting me.
The best way I found to keep them off my mind was work. It was a lesson that took a little to learn but I learned it soon enough. At first when I was banished when I was just a young girl, I huddled against a tree, day and night and cried. I cried until there was nothing left to feel inside, until my tears dried and my broken heart stopped bleeding and drowning me in misery. Only when I was thoroughly numb and my insides clawed at me with hunger and thirst, did I stumble away from the tree.
Lucky for me, before my grandfather had passes, I spent many weeks in the woods, learning the ways of nature and how to get it to work for you. His skills revealed their true importance then, coming fresh to my mind after I drug myself to the creek trickling not too far away. Its cool clear water woke my memories and they took over, I busied myself with survival and my heart allowed me peace during the day but the nights, that was always its moment to remind me what I so desperately worked to forget.
As I grew, my home did too, the rough little lean-to slowly got larger and sturdier, able to withstand rough winds and the heavy winter snows. My garden flourished and the area I scouted and hunted expanded. Although, I wasn't often bothered, the people of the town knew of me of course and they went out of their way to avoid me, knowing that was what they were supposed to do. There were still strangers that wandered through every once and a blue moon. Once they even kept me from my home for a few nights when I was too young yet to fend for myself against other humans, it was after that when I decided I needed some sort of protection.
So I took my little knowledge of witchcraft and I used it to my advantage. I placed signs and "curses" around my home, to keep the curious wanderers at bay, I put enough that it was obvious where it wasn't safe to tread. And that worked for the majority of the time.
Twelve years later now, I was older and wiser, mostly in the facts of survival and avoiding people. I still had plenty of work to do to in these late winter days while I so eagerly awaited spring. I had reached the last of my harvest last fall, my winter crops had struggled through the harshest winter I had seen yet. I was so ready to begin planting for my summer harvest, ready for new flavors in my meals.
Lucky for me I wasn't completely alone, I did have Hiral, she kept the days from getting too lonely. She sat before me now as I hung my winter herbs in my homey hut, she stretched across the whole doorway, her soft brown eyes watching my every move. She also helped to keep unwanted visitors at bay and was a great companion when I hunted. Her steel grey sides heaved with a giant sigh and she picked up her head to look at me, almost like she knew I was thinking about her.
"What girl?" I crooked to her and she tilted her head to the side as I let my arms fall to my sides, the last of the Rosemary hung from my ceiling, along with small amounts of parsley and mint. I remembered when I found Hiral, like it were only yesterday, it was surprising then to realize that it had in fact been six years.
I had been fishing in the stream, my dress drying in the sun on the bank and the warm summer breeze tickled my skin around my shift. I had a fish in my sights, it just needed to move a few more inches closer then there was no way it could escape. I felt myself lean forward in anticipation but suddenly a shadow in the water caught my eyes. What I saw when I looked up made me completely forget about the fish.
A dark bag slid slowly along, bobbing gently with the current, it seemed harmless enough and my curiosity was peeked. Forgetting the fish I hiked my skirts up and trudged further into the chillingly cold water, shivering as I felt it splash up against my thighs. I cut off the mysterious bundle and was surprised at the weight of it, I knew it would be heavy since it was soaked with water but I hadn't expected it to be that much. I wobbled back to the shore, the smoothed riverbed rocks began to dig into my feet as I hurried, a sudden sense of urgency coming over me. I gently settled the bag in the lush green grass and undid the string that bound it, my heart pounding in my ears.
I felt my breath catch in my throat at limp little forms that sat in the bottom of the sack, tiny furry bodies, lifeless and wet. Stuff in this sack and thrown the creek, the pups stood no chance of survival and I felt my heart tear. I knew this is what people did, they called it a kindness to the animals they couldn't take care of or didn't want but I had a hard time believing that as I looked down at their tiny bodies. Barely old enough to witness much of this world, they were already gone, and it was a stone in my heart. I was just about to close up the bag again when a small movement caught my eye, did one of those bodies really move? Did one just whimper? Could it be that a pup survived?
The pathetic whine came again and I faced the opening of the bag toward the light and it was captured by two sweet brown eyes. I quickly reached in, scooping the little one from its brush with death. I found a slim grey dog in my arms, her fur was wet and matted down but other than that she seemed okay. Just tired, she was limp in my embrace, content to breathe and soak up the sun's warm rays. I set her down in the grass and double checked the bag, just wanting to make sure I hadn't missed any, but there were none more, before hurrying into my hut. I came out with rags and proceeded to rub life into her little form and then offered her just a tiny bit of my leftover venison. She greedily scarfed it down, her brown eyes shining from the attention, she begged for more but I didn't want to overdo it, she was pretty malnourished, much like meself. I knew from experience when food was scarce it was bad to gobble down whatever I could find, it always ended up making me sick. I imagined it must be the same way with animals.
She grew up well, smart and strong, eager and loyal. A good friend and partner in this lonely world. Her and Wren. Wren was a small fawn colored mare that found her way to my camp a couple years ago. She had been young and very frightened, a Roman's saddle hung a lopsided on her back and bloody scratches covered her body. It had taken me many hours to allow her to trust me enough to remove her gear and clean her wounds. Now she ran with a nearby herd. They kept her safe and looked after her better than I could, but I always knew that if I ever needed her I only had to call. Whenever her family was in the area she would wander to my hut and I would find some treat for her. It was an interesting relationship but she never forgot me, nor did she lose trust in me. I could leap onto her back at any moment and have faith that she wouldn't take a wrong step.
The last time I had seen my little mare she has started growing heavy with a foal. I figured it wouldn't be but a handful more months until she would drop it and I would be there. I would keep watch and be vigilant when the time came closer. The stallion that looked after her herd was a proud and noble horse, he was well bred and always produced fine foals. Her baby would be nothing less than perfect and I couldn't help but want it for my own. But I wouldn't separate them until she weaned the foal herself, I would just be there as it grew up with her. I had watched many of the wild mares and their foals in the past, it was so interesting and I learned so much just by observing them. I had no doubts in my plan and I grew more excited to execute it each day.