Well...my first Redwall fanfic. The prologue doesn't take place in Redwall, and the whole thing doesn't center around Isabella, but the fire is important. ;) R&R puh-leaaaze. :D
A scream shattered the once still night air. As if on cue a dark cloud was tossed in front of the white half moon, blocking its light from the world. Then, silence again. Out of nowhere, the night was ablaze with fire – orange and red flames licked at the sky, blotting out any stars that weren't already covered by clouds with smoke. More screams came, and shouts that were unintelligible in the roar of the flames.
Sitting in a corner with her knees to her chest and her arms over her head, a small mousemaid sobbed softly. Her cries were abruptly choked off as she started coughing from the thick smoke that filled the cottage. Other nearby houses were on fire as well, filled with smoke and the terrified screams of mice as they burned alongside the squirrels leaping from trees and into the fire as the forest burned.
"Isabella!" The mousemaid heard her name through the raging inferno and looked up, tears streaking her cheeks. "Isabella!" called the voice and she recognized it as her brother.
Isabella called, "T-Torran?" and stood, looking around. "Torran!?" Her voice was stronger the second time and a strong paw grabbed her shoulder, pulling her around the edge of the wall and out the door. She stumbled out of the house, her face slamming into the ash-covered ground. Pain shot through her but she was pulled roughly to her paws by another mouse, only a few seasons older than her.
"Come on!" he called, a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. He took her paw and pulled her along, explaining, "The storm started the fire, I think. It started close to our house – I'm glad you stayed in one place, or I would have never found you." His voice was muffled by the cloth.
She tripped over roots, too confused to comprehend what he was saying. Isabella asked anxiously, "Mama? Papa? Sanya?" Torran only tightened his grip on her wrist as they left the fire far behind. When they finally stopped, the rain had begun to fall heavily, as heavily as before the storm. Strong gusts of wind blew billows of smoke to them, like waves of a storming sea.
Torran collapsed, coughing as he fell to the ground. "Torran!" she gasped, getting to her knees beside her older brother. He was coughing and as she studied him in the dim, hazy twilight, she saw horrible burns on his feet, side and face. She turned her eyes away from the sickening sight.
He gasped between coughs, "Isabella…get far…from here…abbey…far…" Then, his voice faded and he fell completely limp.
"T-Torran?" she asked, scared and weak. He'd breathed in smoke, been badly burned, and run a long distance with those burns. She gulped and stood, wrapping her charred cloak tightly around her. Her own feet were burned, though not too badly, and she began walking.
To where, she knew not. Her brother had said to get far from there, so she would do that. Night fell into day, and day into days, and days into a season. She rested when she needed it, but mostly, she walked. On the edge of starvation and with her burns infected, she walked. Tears coursed down her cheeks, giving away her obvious pain.
It was twilight. The purply gray sky was cloudy, much like the night the fire began. A clap of thunder rang in her ears and her first reaction was to scream, memories flashing through her eyes. Silver-blue lightning streaked the sky, shattering it in to a thousand pieces from which the rain came, pouring down and drenching her.
Wind whistled through the trees, snapping branched. A loud groan shivered the air, accompanied by a creak. Sobbing, she fell to her knees. Then, pain exploded in the back of her head, followed by darkness and nothing.
--
When she awoke, soft light seeped into her eyelids from a window, announcing a bright morning. Bandages were around her feet and head, and she couldn't feel the pain. A large, black-and-white-striped face was gazing down at her with warm brown eyes. "Good morning little one," it greeted.
"So she is awake?" another voice came to her, sounding curious and friendly. An old mouse made his way into view, a pair of spectacles on his face. "Now if she could just tell us her name…" he continued, but was silenced with a look from the badger.
"H-How long have I been a-asleep?" she asked, nestling deeper into the blankets.
The badger answered, "Three nights have passed since we found you, unconscious after a storm. You have Skipper Corim to thank for that. I am Mother Reeca, and this is Abbot Warvold." She motioned to the old mouse with a huge paw.
"I'm…I'm…" she began, then trailed off. Who was she? A memory replayed itself in her mind, a name…something like, "Belle?" It was more of a question than anything, and she could tell that both Reeca and Warvold could tell.
"Well, Belle," the badger began, but Warvold interrupted with a chuckle.
"That rhymed," he explained, then fell quiet again as she gave him another look before continuing.
"Well then, young Belle, we invite you to join our home, Redwall Abbey. It is understandable if you wish not to, but we would greatly enjoy your staying here," Reeca finished with no more interruptions.
Words echoed in her head. Abbey…far… Who had said them? She said, firmly though still weakly, "Yes, I shall join…I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, anyway," she added, trying to wriggle her bandaged toes.
Warvold chuckled again. "There were three 'any's in that sentence, little Belle. Now then, why don't we get some breakfast up here, I'm starved."
You? Starved? she couldn't help but think as she noticed his large belly. Belle sat up then leaned back against some pillows, brow furrowed in thought. I'm sure there was more of it then just 'belle'. But what else? A delicious smell drifted into her nose and she closed her eyes, smling. A tray was set in her lap, complete with a bowl of wonderful smelling soup and a soft loaf of bread smothered in light butter.
"So where do you come from?" the abbot asked, eyeing the loaf of bread as she began sipping the hot soup.
Belle smiled a little and broke of a piece of the loaf, handing it to him, before answering, "I…I don't know. All I remember is a storm, then screams, then…a fire."
Reeca arched an eyebrow, watching the young mousemaid. She seemed honest and kind, but she couldn't remember? The badger didn't trust others very easily and prompted, "Are you sure?"
But Belle's brown eyes had grown foggy and distant, with memories that were just out of her reach. Her eyes grew wide and fearful, and she shivered a little. "It's all that I remember…though I feel like I should remember more," she answered softly, then fell silent as she sipped on the soup.
Warvold's brown eyes watched her, obviously curious. Whatever had happened to the mouse to give her the burns she had it must have been huge. And to lose a memory like that…She must have been knocked out by something, maybe the fallen tree, then lost her memory. She could barely even remember her own name!
Belle closed her eyes and was swiftly asleep, though it was a light sleep, with flames dancing behind her eyelids and the silhouettes of different creatures. A scream rang in her head but still, she slept, unable to pull herself from the hazy nightmare unfolding just beyond reach of her memory.
Well? What do you think? Constructive criticism greatly appreciated!