Jeremiah
1:5 - "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations."
29:11 - "For I know the plans I have for you." declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Quick Disclaimer: I do not--repeat: do NOT--own any of these characters and locations. They belong to their respective owners. This story still has the sci-fi elements of the original works, buy with a mix of fantasy steampunk thrown in. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
Rated M. Just because this is a more Christian-based story doesn't mean there isn't gonna be mature content throughout. I want this to be as authentic to real life as possible. Also, There's going to be a brief scene of attempted suicide in this chapter. For those of you who are trigger by such a thing, I'm sincerely sorry for putting you the pain. You've been warned.
Without further ado, may the Lord bless you for all of your days.
Do not fear; I will help you.
Those were the words running through Z's mind as he sat on his parents' nest. Feeling the soft furs where his father used to sleep entangled with his mother. It had been a couple of hours since the funeral, but Z still believed it was all just a lucid nightmare. One of which he was having a hard time waking up from.
His father wasn't dead. The body they buried six-feet deep wasn't his father. He'd be coming home from another successful hunt and telling tales of glory to Z and his brother like he always did. He had to.
No matter how many times Z tried to convince himself of these lies, the truth constantly reminded him of the sudden change. He was the head of the den now, at only twelve years old. He had to be the provider, to make sure his family stayed together. He had to help lead the pack in their darkest hour.
It was overwhelming enough to make him scream. Z didn't even know who was taking it the hardest; his mother, brother, or himself.
A sniffle disrupted his train of thought and he swivelled his gaze to his mom and little brother beside him. He wondered how long they had been sitting there without him noticing. Perhaps they just arrived in that moment.
Z slowly wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder, letting him lean into his comforting embrace as Mom did the same. He pitied his younger sibling. Ran was only seven and he'd just now experienced the grief that comes with losing a loved one. Mom, on the other hand, had lost many people from her youth, so she was more calm about the situation before them.
As Ran wept, Mom began singing a lullaby her mother had taught her when she was young.
Close your eyes, my love.
Fall asleep.
Drift away, my love.
Dream sweet dreams.
God will be right here,
By your side.
While the moon,
Begins to rise.
And the stars,
Light up the night.
Z refused to cry; did not want his family to see how hurt he was in the moment. Even as memories of their dad singing alongside Mom brought more sorrow to his aching heart. Only when everyone was tucked in for the night—with both boys sleeping next to their mother—did he let the tears fall.
They came in the middle of the night. Explosions that rattled the entire area out of its slumber. Everyone screamed and dashed out as fast as their legs could carry them. The younger pups wailed in fright as they were carried out by their parents. Z was the last one out of the den as it became engulfed in flames, hauling a startled Ran and Mom onto his back.
It was pure chaos all around them. Witches and warlocks swooped in from everywhere, hurling bolts of lightning from their gnarly wands in an effort to, not harm the packs, but corale them.
Z let his family slide off his back to give them a better chance at outrunning the assailants. They bolted northward, where the rest of the pack was heading.
They trampled through thick bushes and spooked many a nocturnal animal in their stampede. And with each attacker that chased them, he or she would get caught in the tall spruces as Z and his family dodged every last one. There were even a select few who fought back against their enemies.
They eventually made it to a deep ravine that spanned in either direction. All they had to do was jump across. Of course, he probably shouldn't have spoken too soon, for a witch in a white coat aimed her wand straight at his mother and little brother.
Just before the spell could hit them, Z shoved his family out of the way. A net materialized out of thin air and ensnared him. He tumbled to the edge of the ravine; barely a hair's length between them. He feared that he was going to fall into the raging rapids below with how close he was, until he was pulled back by the long rope connected to the net. The witch holding him re-aimed her wand at his family, but she missed when another male sprinted forward and snatched them away from the oncoming trap. He lept across the ravine safely, with Ran and Mom protesting profusely.
The other sorcerors stopped abruptly. Almost out of fear towards the ravine.
Z sighed in relief. They had been smart in choosing their home, for it was next to the border that wasn't kind to these wicked attackers.
One by one, the assailants took to the sky on their old broomsticks.
He felt the gravity shift beneath him as he became airborne. From what he could see on his side of things, Z was the only one captured.
The pack, Ran and Mom stayed at the edge, wailing and calling out to him. All he could do was howl back in sorrow.
They were little more than black dots on the horizon as they got farther and farther away. In that moment, tears slid down Z's cheeks as he sent out a heartfelt prayer to the God of their songs and hymns to keep them safe. Fearing that, wherever these hunters were taking him, he wouldn't make it out alive.
From the moment he arrived at the palace, he had endured many harsh lessons, some of which involved reminding the populace of the witches' might. All so he can prove to be a loyal member of the guard, as his 'instructors' often told him. If he was being honest, Z always had this underlying urge to go on a rampage every time he heard that phrase.
At the same time, he continued to wonder where his pack was and whether or not they were safe. He missed everyone. His mom. his brother, who would no doubt be eleven by now. His aunts, uncles, cousins. Even the few members they've adopted over the years. The good and bad times they shared, the comradery, and the undying love for one another.
Z shook the memories out of his head without drawing too much attention. He needed to stay focused on his task, even though he wasn't required to do much at the moment aside from standing sentinel near the head table of the dining hall, whilst the party-goers watched the magician perform his best tricks. Only Z couldn't see the illusions the man was creating.
The court had dressed in their finest—albeit bizarre—ensembles for the occasion. It was the sixteenth birthday of one of the young courtisans, and yet the parlor tricks were more centered around the royal family rather than the birthday girl herself.
Z had become quite familiar with the unusual young lady that is Scarlet Benoit ever since their first meeting. She never hung out with kids her age and preferred to spend her time either in the royal menagerie or her private chambers. And, in a few exceptional cases where she needed protection, was always alone.
Scarlet was dressed in head-to-toe white, with a few red curls peeking out from underneath the sheer veil atop her head. From the way she remained still during the show, Z almost believed she was dead. Thankfully, he can see her fidgeting from the corner of his eye. He also kept a close vigil on the crown princess, Channary, whose vixen's smile not once left her glamoured face even as she glanced Scarlet's way.
Things stayed relatively calm, in spite of the constant oohs and aahs of the audience, until a shriek echoed throughout the hall followed by the sound of a chair crashing to the marble floor.
Z's alertness landed on Scarlet, who currently laid on the floor in shock. Unfortunately, everyone else didn't share the same concern. They were too busy laughing their socks off at the poor girl's frightened display. Her family was of no help either. They did nothing but hurl snide comments about her disturbing the show or insulted her with cruel nicknames.
Worst of all, the princess openly mocked her with false sympathy.
Z cautiously knelt down, placing one arm at the small of Scarlet's back and holding out the other for her to take. Even though nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, whatever had spooked the princess must have been terrifying.
Without a second thought, Z escorted her out of the dining hall. The audience's cackles echoing down the corridor.
His blood boiled as they made their way to the duchess' private chambers. This often happened when Scarlet was bullied by the court and their twisted games. Why it happens, he had no clue whatsoever. Perhaps it's because of his sense of loyalty to her alone, since he is technically her personal guard. Or maybe he's developing a case of Stockholm Syndrome. Either way, he wasn't one to sit on the sidelines and watch Scarlet be tormented.
Z opened the door to her chambers, allowing her passage inside. She slipped her gloves and veil off her person without even bothering to order him out.
He stopped in the doorway, wishing he could say something to cheer her up. Encourage her to push through the trials life constantly flung at her. But any ideas he'd concocted were quickly dashed as he spotted something shiny in her grip. A glinting metal blade with a translucent handle.
His heart skipped as he checked his belt, only to find that his dagger was not in its holster.
Z rushed to Scarlet's aid just as she was about to plunge the blade in between her breasts. Keeping her hands at bay until he wrenched it free. He locked her against his body to prevent her from making another attempt.
Naturally, she kicked and screamed, demanding him to let her go to no avail. He was almost a rock compared to her. After a minute or more of struggling, the princess slumped to her knees and dissolved into a sobbing, hysterical mess. This allowed him to get a better look at her.
It was truly a sight he would not soon forget.
A massive scar took up the left half of her face, continuing along her upper ribs all the way to her left arm. The pinky was little more than a stub and the scarred tissue had a series of ridges and grooves. Her left eye was permanently sealed shut. Great clumps of fiery red curls were missing where the scars reached to the back of her head and the corner of her mouth was pulled into a fixed frown.
He realized to his dismay that they were burns. Very, very old burns that never properly healed.
His mind was in a daze as he rummaged through any possible explanation for her disfigurements. Or more accurately; who was responsible for committing such an heinous act—on a sweet, innocent girl—in the first place. Then he remembered what the princess said earlier. Her venomous words repeating in his head over and over again like a broken record.
'Is Wittle Miss Duchess still afwaid of a measly flame?'
Has Channary been tormenting Scarlet, with the memory of the unseen event throughout the years? Had the evil princess given her the scars?
His heart immediately broke in two as he tightened the hug, stroking her head gently as he would a kitten. Scarlet had been abused for her whole life. And all he did was stand around, being nothing more than a wall decoration, when he should have spoken up against this injustice.
No sooner had he thought of it did he remember one tiny problem. Z was merely a squire, so what did he know about politics or how a witch's family life is supposed to be?
Nothing, is what the monarchs or any one of their minions would say. He didn't care, however, and was already imagining how he would plead his case to the unforgiving monsters. He'd state every one of his points with tact and infuriated passion. He'd reveal the dark secrets they no doubt kept air-tight. He'd make them apologize to Scarlet for all the harm they've caused her in the past. He'd force them to grovel at her feet, giving her the love she so rightly—
That was when he realized, as his rage fizzled out as fast as it came, the reason for the odd emotions springing up whenever he was around the young duchess. Why his anger flared up when the court brought down her self-esteem so easily as they would tear a piece of paper. He loved Scarlet. Always had. And more than likely, always will.
But the question is, does she love him back?
He got his answer when he kissed her tenderly on her soft and rosey lips; she didn't pull away.
Z knew this was the most wreckless thing he's ever done. But what choice does he have? He can't let Scarlet continue to suffer at the court's hands. Not without her risking another attempt to leave this world so young. That's why it's imperative he get her as far away from Panem as possible.
Their plan was simple: escape from Cantral without drawing too much attention. Then, cross the border marked by the ravine.
The young couple were already at the outskirts of the city by the time the sun set beyond the horizon. Scarlet had come up with a lie about needing to find a boutique to buy a new gown for the princess' coronation that evening, claiming she didn't want to be seen in any of her older outfits for such a monumental event. And as her personal guard, Z had no choice but to follow her. No one else.
They stopped at the front gate to the north. A ginormous wooden barrier barred their path, with soldiers stationed at the booths connected to the metal wall surrounding the metropolis.
Luckily, their cloaks were dark and far enough over their faces to leave them unrecognizable. But will the guards still discover them if they slip up? Will they inquire about the tall boy escorting a short girl to freedom?
Surprisingly, no. They blended in with a caravan—also going in the same direction—so well, the guards didn't suspect anything was out of the ordinary.
The gate doors crawled open. The crack was only big enough for them to walk through.
The caravan pressed forward onto the road to freedom. Z and Scarlet shared a gleeful smile as they went. The gate closed with a thud behind them.
As soon as they were far enough away from the accursed city, they split off from the travelers and made their way to the mountains.
Winter had come faster than the previous seasons had gone. They stayed on the move until they crossed the very same ravine where Z was taken from his pack as a kid. The last time he saw his family.
In that time, the youngsters shared many a heartfelt moment, from funny stories to sad memories. They had gotten to know each other so well, they eventually decided to start a pack of their own. Which goes about as well as one would think when it comes to two teens going through with their desire, despite not having any premeditative knowledge on how to deliver a baby in the middle of nowhere. Lucky, they didn't need to worry about frostbite, because werewolves have impressive adaptibility to the environments they're in.
Scarlet moaned with all the misery of a mother-to-be, both hands clutching Z's biceps. Her round belly squeezing with each push.
They'd been going through the labouring process for hours. The stars and full moon shining overhead. He didn't think a girl could go through as much pain as Scarlet was, but he surmised this was typical birthing behaviour after witnessing his own mom give birth to his little brother. Add in the personal trauma she sustained from her youth as well as how they had no other things to keep her comfy, and one would get a very vocal, very scared teen mom.
To be fair, neither of them could have foreseen the events of her delivery. And since he's the only person she had for company, that made delivering this baby without any complications all the more difficult. So, he dared himself not to leave her. This was, after all, meant to be an intimate moment between the parents and their soon-to-be-born child. He knew that for a fact.
Things were relatively quiet for a minute or two, until a noise startled them both. The only sound for miles besides Scarlet's shallow breathing...and the snapping of twigs.
Z hovered over his ailing wife in rigidness. A growl escaping his bared fangs.
A figure stepped out from the underbrush, holding a spear in both hands. He was merely a boy, with the features of a lycanthrope growing into adolescence. His once shaggy brown hair now styled by what could be assumed as gel.
Both males stared at each other in shock. Jaws hanging wide open, no doubt wondering how the other got so big.
Of course, Ran wasn't alone. Dozens of familiar faces crept out of the shadows with equally surprised looks. Including his long-lost mother.
She was more gaunt than the last time he saw her, and maybe it was his imagination, but he could've sworn there were bags under her coal black eyes. It wasn't enough to deter him, because he now knew how much all those nights of howling to the sky finally paid off.
Mom and Ran grappled him into a hug, being careful not to knock into Scarlet. Tears fell from their cheeks like waterfalls.
The young couple smiled through their own waterworks.
Z introduced every member of the pack to her, starting with his mom and little brother—the latter of whom had his hair ruffled—and ending at his youngest cousin, who was the equivalent of a kindergartener. Understandably, the pack was uncomfortable about standing in close proximity to his mate, especially since she still carried the scent of a sorceress.
Except, surprisingly, for his mother.
She crouched down in front of Scarlet, inspecting her temperature and how far along she was in her delivery. Then she helped Z in situating himself behind her back atop a makeshift nest of blankets and pillows—all of which belonged to the reluctant pack. Two females dumped medical supplies right next to them before backing away quickly. And Ran stayed close by, albeit a little nervously.
Mom immediately got to work with the supplies. Within a few minutes of waiting, she dunked a cloth in a bowl filled to the brim with melted snow—and a mix of herbal powders—and dabbed it tenderly across Scarlet's forehead. The much needed coolness gave the poor girl the strength to carry on through her labouring.
As she got into her fifth set of pushes, Scarlet cried out in agony, bracing herself against her husband.
Z gently caressed her abdomen, kissing her scarred jaw in loving affection. He caught just a faint whiff of their child, and he can already tell that it was a girl.
Z smiled as he whispered reassuring words to Scarlet, telling her not to give up and that their daughter was almost here.
With one final push, the baby girl shot out like a bullet into Scarlet's and Mom's awaiting hands. Ambiotic fluid spewing everywhere. In the blink of an eye, the two women drew the squealing, water-coated infant onto Scarlet's deflated belly while her arms wrapped protectively over her. The umbilical cord trailing behind her.
Mom grabbed Z's disgarded cloak—with some prehensive direction on his part—and draped it over his naked wife and child. The former of the two shedding tears at the accomplishment she no doubt never expected to happen in such a way. Even he couldn't help letting his eyes leak a bit at the sight before him.
Their little girl was perfect, even if she was missing a leg. Her mop of dark hair went askew as Z lightly rubbed it with the cloak. She had a very scrunched face that only now was turning pink. Although, the most magical moment came when she opened her eyes. The pupils were still black, but Z could tell they'd turn a nice chocolate brown like her mother's once she's older.
He pressed his forehead into Scarlet's temple, and she leaned into him in response. He peeked an eye open to his mom and little brother, the latter of whom finally bolstered up the courage to take a gander at his first-time niece. He even let her grip his finger.
The tension dissolving into a state of ease as everyone around them congratulated the two on successfully bringing a new life into the world. But Scarlet was the one who truly earned it the most.
While the placenta was taken care of and both girls got a proper cleaning and dressing, everyone set to work on creating a shelter around the couple and their baby. Each grabbed the largest pine branch they could find and placed them all in a teepee formation. Tying it off at the top with nothing more than a strip of leather. One of the males even tacted a fur pelt over the entrance of the makeshift structure.
Z assisted Scarlet in finding a comfortable resting position, while Mom and Ran claimed sleeping spots at their feet.
At last, all was still; the pack settled down for the night. However, they chose to stay outside, whether it be for the nightwatch or just the simple pleasure of sleeping under the stars. It didn't matter to Z, now that he had his entire family right beside him.
As he pondered about it some more, he realized how all of this shouldn't have been possible.
For one thing, Z was an alpha destined to a life of duty for his people. To keep them far from the influences of others. And Scarlet was a witch-turned-she-wolf with an unfortunate backstory. She was destined to a life of luxury and fame, despite the previous harshness of the court. And yet, here they both were; out in the wild with a bundle of new life in their hands, and a happy ending neither of them expected.
The amount of joy surging through Z upon reuniting with his family, as well as him and Scarlet meeting their daughter for the first time caused him to sing his mother's lullaby without thinking, even as the baby in question suckled on his wife's breast. Both teens praised the Lord for helping them find one another in the middle of life's storms. And for aiding in their escape from terrible fates.
Close your eyes, my love.
Fall asleep.
Drift away, my love.
Dream sweet dreams.
God will be right here,
By your side.
While the moon
Begins to rise.
And the stars
Light up the night.