Prologue
A scream rang through the air…
More joined in the chorus, adding to the horrible chaos that ensued…
Flames rose and danced, licking at the sky with their fiery tongues. Sobs and yelling echoed through the smoky air, adding to the cacophony.
The flames rose yet higher, greedily consuming the wooden buildings. Various livestock ran down the dusty road, lowing in pain as they were engulfed in flame. People evacuated the village. One woman in particular though, ran in the opposite direction.
She frantically called a name, "Anya? Anya! Where are you?" She yelled into the burning clutch of houses. Only the crackling of burning wood and other various materials answered her. Wind whipped her hair around her face, tears rolled down her sooty cheeks. She plunged deeper into the burning village. "Anya!" She called.
A plaintiff squeal met the woman's pleas. She looked slightly relieved and ran in the direction of a house…Her house, which was almost half burned to the ground. She pushed her way through a fire eaten door, coming into a room that was filled with little wooden dolls and colorful fabrics, merely food for the fire. A figure sat in the middle of the room, small enough to be a child. Tears spilled off of her face and onto the ground, reflecting firelight. "Mother…Why?" She sobbed into her hands. The woman frowned, not entirely understanding her daughter's question, until the girl looked up.
Ebony black hair, streaked with ivory white and dusty ash hung around her face, partially in an intricate braid. Black wolf-like ears protruded off the top of her head, now laid flat against her hair. But those were her normal features, what startled the woman the most were the child's eyes. They glowed, blood red, with black slits for pupils. Not a speck of white was visible in them.
The woman stifled a scream at the sight of those eyes. The raven-haired child got up and ran to her mother, burying her face in the soot-stained fabric of her dress. "Why mother?" She asked quietly, voice muffled by the dress. "I-I don't…" The mother stuttered, but the little girl interrupted her. "I did this mother, the fires are my fault."She stopped to sniffle. "I fell asleep and a big white wolf came to me in my dreams, and he said he was my father…Then he touched me and I woke up, but I couldn't control myself. I made everything set on fire…" She said, words distorted by her sobs.
The woman tutted like a mother hen, "No Anya. It was all that good for nothing father of yours." She said, kneeling and hugging the child, sympathy heavy in her voice. The girl shook her head, black hair flying all over like the smoke that rose around them. "Let's leave, or we may not be alive to see the sun rise in the morning." The woman said, gently lifting the girl up into her arms.
The child continued to sob into the black veil of her mother's hair as the woman walked out of the burning village. She followed the route they were to take if a fire ever threatened the village, to go to a safe place and rebuild their home. She was sure the villagers would still accept her child, despite what she had done.