"Sasha? Could you please take some coin and purchase more red dye from the next village over," asked Viola, pulling a needle though a blue cloth. "We are dangerously close to running out and we need some to finish our latest order."

"Can Christine come with me? I don't want to go alone," said the beautiful young girl, twirling a curly lock of silvery blonde hair between her fingers.

"Christine needs to help me here in the shop. We need to finish these skirts by tomorrow or we won't be paid," Viola said very seriously.

"Alright then," Sasha replied, sadness creeping into her voice. She grabbed a lilac cloak from her closet and headed out the door. Pulling her hood up against the early autumn chill, Sasha set off down the dirt trail to the next village. When she had gotten out of sight of he village. She began to sing to distract her from her loneliness.

XxXxXxXxXx

As Claude walked down the path, a swagger in his step, he heard a lovely voice, pure and high. As the soprano's song soared, coming nearer, Claude swiftly ran behind a bush, completely concealed.

"E'en so Lord Jesus, quickly come, and night shall be no more," sang the voice. "They'll need no light, nor lamp, nor sun, for Christ shall be their all."

The girl finished as she came around the corner, and Claude could not help but grin. She was childishly beautiful with silvery blonde hair and cute lips. Her round, doll like face was all too irresistible for Claude as he watched her pass, red dress twirling and purple cloak snapping in the breeze, which was picking up as the day drew to a close. It looked like there'd be a storm soon.

Claude retreated from the cover of the bush as the girl passed, making not a sound as he followed her for a ways. Trying not to be overtly creepy, Claude leaned against a tree and cleared his throat, catching the girl's attention.

XxXxXxXxXx

Sasha jumped a little at the noise and spun on her heels.

"Hello," said a man leaning against a tree. He had a pleasant, sultry and youthful voice.

Sasha couldn't help but feel a little trepidation, but also a little excitement. The man, although he couldn't have been that old, was very pleasing to her eyes. He had dark ruddy hair and pale skin. He could have been a prince, with an elegant face and sleek form. His open shirt revealed his sculpted musculature.

"He-hello," Sasha managed. She could feel a flush creeping into her cheeks, but she attempted to force it away. "Who are you?" she asked, though she knew it sounded a little blunt.

"Different people have different names for me. Not all of them are very polite, mind you," he said with a lopsided smile. "You can call me Claude."

"Why are you following me?" Sasha asked, though she didn't know for sure whether he was or not.

"I'm not. Just happened to be hunting in the woods when I heard you singing," the young thief lied. "You have a very sweet voice."

"Th-thanks," stuttered Sasha. She knew she must sound a mess, stumbling and skipping words, but she couldn't help it. As the air grew increasingly colder, she pulled her cloak tightly around her.

"I should really be going. If I'm not home by dark, my sisters will be worried sick," she said, glancing at the sky.

"What's that you have in your basket?" Claude asked, indicating the small woven basket which Sasha clutched in her left hand.

"Dye. It's for my sister," Sasha said, trying not to give too much information. She didn't know the man; he could be an unsavory individual.

"Would you like an escort? Back to your family?" Claude asked. The girl was very pretty and he wanted to get to know her. At the very least he wanted to become acquainted with the valuables of her household.

"Your too kind, but I think I should be able to make it the rest of the way home," Sasha said, now a little more than just worried. Would he let her leave?

"Very well," Claude said, doing his best to look hurt. "Safe travels, miss-"

"Sasha. My name is Sasha."

"Well then, be safe, miss Sasha. I hope we meet again," Claude said with an arrogant grin, still leaning with a shoulder braced against the tree.

"I should hope not," Sasha muttered as she walked away, back to the safety of her village.

Yet through the trees, in the darkening sky, she could see trails of blotchy blackness; smoke. A faint orange glow rose shone through the woods, and the wails of women and children could be heard. Fire.

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