The Red Beast's Story

Esk River - Vinlund - 8 Years Previous

Red was dying.

She was almost certain of that.

Whilst the cold of the river was enough that she could feel little to nothing anymore, the stripe of crimson that swirled out along the current in front of her was enough to show her she was hurt badly.

It was only the fallen tree she found herself entangled in that was keeping her above the water. She couldn't summon the strength to haul the rest of her human body, from the chest downward, out of the freezing stream. The Fragment rested her chin on her forearm, exhaling a shaky breath in a shower of mist.

Flakes of snow rested on the slicked wood around her.

She was trapped. She was hurt. Even her inner heat would only last so long.

The hounds.

This was their fault.

Her nails dug into the side of the trunk in an effort to pull herself up, renewed in some way by the twist of hatred somewhere deep in her gut.

The hounds.

The people who had been determined to lock her away in some forsaken hellhole forever for no other reason than EXISTING. People arrogant enough to feel that they had that kind of authority, that kind of power.
They'd deserved to suffer for what they did.
She was right to do it.

Not that it mattered now.
Now it was over.

A chill settled in the pit of her stomach as the thought crossed her mind.

She had spent so long shut away from everything, stewing in rage and hatred.
And upon finally, finally achieving freedom... she had wasted it all.

Never once lived out a day that wasn't dominated by a burning desire for retribution, vindication and vengeance.

With some difficulty, Red craned her neck upwards, staring at the grey sky.

If she could try again...what would she do?
What could she do?

A Fragment could never just...live their life.
Eventually what you were would always catch up with you.

With that thought, Red rested her head against the tree, and awaited the inevitable.





Vindolanda - Vinlund - Present Day

The deer hadn't been dead too long, though it had clearly not died too well. Its body was still steaming in the chill of the early morning as its hide was cut open. The neck was torn and head wrenched back, back legs twisted out as quite unnatural angles as if something huge had thrown its full weight upon it.

Not a great surprise to the person attempting to skin the animal.

The woman appeared somewhere in her thirties, squarish face framed by a mane of thick, ginger hair.
She was looking a little underdressed for the weather, lacking a coat or even long sleeves to keep the cold out.

It didn't appear to be bothering her however. The woman seemed more concerned with the fallen animal...
..and carefully slicing the scorched patches of fur and flesh from its body so as to make its death appear a mite less horribly unnatural.

All in a day's work for eight years as a Fragment in hiding. Red had gotten surprisingly good at keeping secrets.
Almost to the point that she didn't feel bitter about her mutilated body being thrown into a river like piece of refuse.

Almost.

Red gazed up at the peak to the south, Mount Koan, clouds swirling round the grey peaks.

Somewhere beyond there lay The Core, and the Hounds.

Red's features tightened momentarily, something glimmering fiercely behind her eyes. A small stripe of red slipped down her cheek from the corner of her eye.

"Mum!"

Her gaze snapped back immediately, and a hand reached up in a single deft movement to wipe the blood from her face.
Red angled her body round to look over the body of the stag and to the other end of the clearing, where a figure stood in the gap between the trees, shuffling from foot to foot.

A boy of about seven years old, wrapped in a winter coat a size or two too large for him. His hair was ginger and bloomed out in waves from under a colourful woollen hat.

Red approached the boy, towering over him at her full height.
"You aren't supposed to come out here."

The boy shuffled around more acutely, broken-off tree branch grasped in his hands.
"But..there's... I can see smoke...down in the valley. A fire."

Red frowned, before placing a hand on the child's shoulder.
"You did good telling me. Can you show me where?"

The young man nodded vigorously, a movement that caused the tassels on the hat to bound around wildly. He then turned and began to walk through the forest towards the river.

Red, the slayer of men, took one brief glance back at the shadow of the mountain, before following her son into the trees.

Red and her son would soon find their path blocked by a young man.

"Hey. It's you," he said, beaming.

At first glance, nothing stood out as particularly threatening about the man, other than the fact that he appeared so swiftly and stealthily that he seemed to materialize out of the mist. In fact, he seemed distinctly unthreatening in almost every way: Youthful. Skinny. Smiling countenance. Even his yellow scarf and the vertical sweep of his unkempt dark hair seemed cheerful. His simple, close-fitting clothing didn't show any obvious pockets in which to hide any weapons. Still, a closer inspection of the unnatural, acidic chartreuse of his glowing eyes lent a rather unsettling, manic quality to the otherwise happy picture of the Fragment known as Skip.

"I remember you. People said you were gone," babbled Skip, strolling closer, his heels scuffing earth, dry leaves, and pebbles with each light, careless step--a gait quite unlike the silent one that had all but magicked him into the center of their path. "I heard some highwaymen had been getting dead around here under somewhat strange circumstances. Thought I might find any one of our mutual friends in the area, and then..." He pointed to a stand of trees to his left. Scorch marks scarred several of the trunks. "Careful. It's a good thing it's me that found you and not a hunter, you know?"

Of course, 'good' was a matter for debate. As any Fragment knew, another Fragment could be bad company as well as a Hound, especially if that Fragment had consumed others of his kind in the past...which Skip had definitely done around the time the Rock burst open.

He suddenly looked down at the boy as though noticing him for the first time. "What's the little guy for?" he asked pleasantly. Skip liked some humans, though he rarely had much use for tiny humans. He crouched forward, resting his hands on his knees. He tilted his head, addressing the child directly. "I like your hat."

Tick-tock. The clock went on and on, in the rather large manor. It's hand's were making the empty throne room almost boom, as was the silence. Ah, the silence how he longed to break it it was beginning to crush him. Sure Uroboro's had done enough socialising over the couple day's but he never really felt satisfied. Perhaps it was the need to get out and cause havoc, he's fragment blood taking control. He hadn't done such a thing for 8 long year's, too start now would be a shame. That single thought was holding him back from taking action.

It was a rather quite morning in the lord's castle, as explained. Uroboro's himself was preparing to set out for a gathering of noblemen. Human noblemen. It was like being a butterfly amongst moth's, of the same standing but one is just so much more dazzling. To say he did have some pride of his fragment flesh would be a understatement, he would be flaunting it if it didn't mean him getting decapitated by the hound's. Nonetheless, he would compliment himself in his own time. Uroboro's began to wash his signature silky white hair which had looked as if it was blessed from the heavens itself, before walking out of the room and into his chambers.

Uroboro's placed his hands on his wolf like door nob, a sort of mock to the hound before he gripped it rather tightly but gently shoving the door open. He walked over to the bells, which were enshrouded by the crimson light flashing through the curtains from the windows. The man gave it a mere tap, before servants were rushing to his aid. As if some child, they began to dress him appropriately for the occasion dolling him up as if some king.

Some time later Uroboro's had begun to set off to his destination, on horseback of course. It was the most elegant way of travelling and no one could take that thought away from him. Uroboro's had called some servants to accompany him, before they began setting off on route to Mount Koan. Along the way there he had saw something that had catch his attention rather finely, a fiery red haired woman who had seemed to be a giantess.

He stared at her intensely eyes with her for a moment, his unnatural shade of blue glistening like a hawk's before he turned his head away. If it weren't for the child accompanying her he would've mistaken her for a fragment. The boy himself had looked quite similar to the woman, though he couldn't tell much from the distance he was away. He had spotted another man seemingly greeting them a man of smaller stature, ''What a odd place to gather, i must say.'' He whispered to himself as he frowned. Uroboro's shook his head, clearing his mind. He would be at his destination soon enough.

“Red?”

The boy was quiet in his appearance, slipping into view not long after Skip emerged. He stepped over a cluster of brambles and undergrowth, joining the circle of activity with the same surety as if he had been welcomed into it- which, in a way, he had. Cait Sidhe, a creature bound by whim, had been invited along on the expedition here. It would stand to say that he would be invited to see the results of the search as well.

Like his companion, the Cait, Gale, appeared harmless. His stature alone gave the impression that the boy couldn’t have hurt someone if he tried- small in both height and build. Lollipop stems and caramel wrappers peeked from the lining of his coat, and his face was soft with youth. His was a form that asked protection instead of caution. However, like Skip, his eyes were a much different story; the pupils too thin, the irises too large and off colored. They held an odd hunger.

The hints of teeth when he spoke, sharp and needle-pointed, only reinforced it.

“Is that you, Red?” Gale asked again. He had grown closer, settling himself beside Skip- out of arm’s reach from the much larger Fragment, but close enough for him to get a good look at her. The boy had to crane his neck a ways back in order to do so, however, which gave an almost comical quality to the situation. “We had thought that it was one of us, but I would have never guessed that it was you behind all of this. What a pleasant surprise.” He spoke warmly, amiably, as if speaking to an old friend. “How have you been? Well?”

As Skip went on in his chattering, Gale’s eyes abruptly slid from Red to the child, studying him curiously. Taking in the bundle of jackets, the hat, the hair tucked sloppily beneath it. Gale smiled- a smile that was all lips- and, taking a few steps forward, produced a sweet from his pocket and offered it to the boy.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Gale. Want a butterscotch?”