Senna
By, Hitokiri Shinzui
Once, there was a young girl named Senna. Senna was a normal girl, poor, and without the status to gain a last name. She lived with her father, alone and isolated in the mountains. Senna was a curious girl by nature. She would sit in a fir tree and sing with the birds, or play in ice cold streams without a care for her appearance.
Her father would laugh, and tell her,"Senna, you must leave this land. Become a Lady, get married, and make your father a grandfather." Her father wanted her to leave the mountains, and go to the warm lands where the Senna plant for which he named her grew.
Senna did not care about clothes, jewels, or other frivolities. She certainly did not care for marriage, or children of her own. Even so, it was Senna's dream to leave the farm and travel on her own to places unknown. To the warmer lands down south, or maybe to the sea.
So, when Senna turned fourteen, she bid her father goodbye, and left. She had told him that she was off to become a bride, and to find her fortune. She had lied.
She travelled for many days, and soon the days turned to weeks. She learned that living alone, with no roof over her head, and not a soul to speak her worries to was very tiring. She found that searching for her own food in the woods was far more difficult than she had imagined. Even so, Senna began to love the wilderness. She began to enjoy the thrill of the hunt, and she began to find comfort in the darkness that the forest gave her.
All of her new loves were forgotten, when she at last reached a large town on the edge of the trees. Excitement coursed through her at the sight of so many people, and all she wanted to do was rush forward and meet them all. She was so happy that she didn't think of her appearance as she rushed forward to ask a girl the name of the town.
Her excitement faded when she saw the look of terror and disgust that the girl gave her, before she ran away into the crowd, leaving her question unanswered. Senna raised her head to look around her, and was horrified to see the people of the town skirting around her as if she had some kind of disease. Senna felt her dreams shatter, and she fled back into the forest with all of her speed.
Senna fell to her knees at the edge of a stream, sobbing. She had forgotten about the wonders of the forest in her own sorrow at being rejected by society. Rubbing her eyes, she looked down at her reflection. She saw a pale, dirt smudged face framed by a thorny tangle of blood red hair. Her brown eyes were red from crying. She looked down at herself, seeing her once-blue dress, now dirty and tattered. And yet, Senna could see nothing wrong with her appearance.
She knew that she didn't look a thing like the beautiful girls in the town, with their golden hair and expensive dresses, but Senna had never wanted frivolity anyway.
In a surge of defiance, Senna unclasped the hunting knife that she had stolen from her father, from her forearm and cut her hair away at her shoulders. Letting her hair fall to the ground around her, Senna then cut her dress above her knees, and fixed the sleeves to make a rough tunic. She used the extra material to hide her feminine body, and she wove herself leggings with grass and fabric.
Senna looked at her reflection once, then with new confidence, she approached the town again as a man.
High above, in the realm known as Olympus, the goddess of love, Aphrodite looked down upon Senna with distaste. Never before had she seen a woman lose herself in the battle against marriage, and never had one seemed so against love as Senna was.
"This," she said in her ringing voice, "is a maiden straying from the true path." In a moment of rare annoyance, Aphrodite did what most gods refrained from doing, and she mumbled a curse.
A maiden's time of youth is near,
Forgotten love would be her fear,
A lover's touch, heart's final cast,
The girl's first blood will be her last.
Aphrodite smiled slightly as she watched her curse fly down to earth to land upon the mortal who had betrayed her cause. For one without love was the goddess' enemy.
Unbeknownst to her, the goddess Artemis had seen Aphrodite place the curse upon Senna. Artemis was enraged that Aphrodite would dare to try to kill she who was following the Goddess of the Hunt's ways. Artemis had always favoured those who denied attachment to men.
"You will regret this, Aphrodite. You have tampered with the Hunt for far too long."
Artemis sent for the titan Epimetheus, and had him create an animal for her, a bird. Epimetheus was thrilled at the chance to create again, but he had already given all of the greatest gifts of beauty to the other animals. So, instead of giving the bird a brilliant colour, he satisfied himself with instead giving it a pretty cry, and soft white feathers.
Artemis thanked him, and sent the bird to find Senna, to watch over her, to protect her from Aphrodite's curse.
Back on Earth, Senna was just leaving the Inn that she had spent the night in. Senna was pleasantly surprised with the way people treated her now that she looked like a man. At the same time, though, she was furious. She would look around, and all that she would see was woman walking with men, being held close and protected. Senna was sure that if she was to be taken for a woman in men's clothing, she would be disgraced like no other. Even so, Senna was fine with that, if it meant that she could be free from any attachment.
She wandered throughout the town, a look of undisguised awe on her face. It really was different from the mountains. The air was warmer, and she felt the need to tie back her shoulder length hair. She bought an apple with her meagre savings, and ate as she walked. She passed many boys her own age and younger wrestling in the streets. She felt no desire to join them, though she watched them happily for a while.
She had just turned away from the fight when she walked straight into a body larger than hers. She fell backwards and hit the ground hard. Blinking back tears, she rose her head to yell at the man just as a hand entered her vision. She met his gaze, and felt her cheeks heat up against her will.
The man, though only a year or two older than her, was the most amazing thing that she had ever seen. Not just because of his fair hair and laughing expression, but because of the fact that he had stopped to help her, even thinking that she was a man.
Senna accepted the hand shakily, and introduced herself to the man, who called himself Creta. Creta apologized to her again, then continued on his way.
Senna knew at once that she had broken her vow, but she remained calm.
It was a pity. Had she shown the admiration and joy on her face, then maybe Aphrodite would have seen it, and maybe her curse would not have began to take hold.
Senna, against her better wishes, had begun to see more of Creta. They only spoke of current things, like news and people, never of themselves. Even so, Senna slowly got to see the type of man that Creta was. And through that, she began to fall in love.
When Senna told Creta of her true gender, and threw away her costume, he was not angry. He was shocked, but then he smiled, and said nothing. The days continued. Senna had never been happier.
But it was not to last.
Senna returned to her room at the Inn one night to find a note tacked to her bed post. 'I'm sorry,' was all that it said, but Senna knew Creta's handwriting like she knew her own, and it took her only a few hours of searching to track him down.
Senna arrived upon him in the midst of a brawl. At first, she thought that nothing was wrong, until she saw a flash of silver in the hands of one of the fighters. In a wave of pure panic, Senna jumped in between the two just as Creta's assailant thrust his knife forward.
Senna did not scream as the knife cut through her chest, but Creta did. In a moment of savage anger, Creta pulled the knife from Senna's flesh and hurled it at the other man, killing him instantly.
Up in a tree, a white birl sang mournfully, having arrived at the scene just seconds ago. It flew down from it's branch to land beside the man and the dying girl. Creta had Senna puled tightly to his chest, but it was no use. Senna took one last look at her love, and died smiling.
The white bird, overcome with the sorrow the man was feeling, hopped gingerly into the cooling pool of Senna's blood. Once it's feathers were doused in red, it flew off again, giving one last mourning cry to the man down below.
In respect for Senna and her ways, the goddesses made peace for a time, and named the now red bird a Cardinal, in accordance to Senna's brilliant red hair, and the first blood that she had spilled.
And that is why, to this day, all cardinals are red.