Cinders' ashes

~ We continue with the dark fairytale of unlikely friends.

I

Upon exiting her underground prison, Cinders gapes at what is left of her once magnificent forest. Trees have been cleared. Campfires throw ghastly shadows in the night. As a whole section of the city's inhabitants have been reduced to seek shelter. In doing so, they have managed to carry the diseases from the city with them.

The once vibrant evergreens are pale shadows of their former selves. The natural plants, herbs and flowers have been dug up. Replaced by neat rows of vegetables that suited their taste better. Instead of living of the ground, they were changing it. Living on it, not from or with it.

Cinders senses the earth's resentment. It is hard, dry, and cracked. She hears its' silent roar, the heat accumulating underground, waiting to rip open. She does not blame the ground. She knows too well to which length it would go to rid itself of this toxicity. It needs to flourish.

She looks up at Red. Sees the distaste, mixed with a touch of lust, twisting the beautiful face. Distaste for the humans with no respect. That strange lust her friend has for destruction.

Once again, she wonders why this woman thrives on the edge of despair.

As if reading her thoughts, Red turns to Cinders and states in flat, emotionless tone: "The edge is where I live. It's neither easy nor pretty. It is just where I belong."

"But,.." Cinders wants to object. She needs her friend to see there is still some good in these so-called 'dregs of society'.

"I know Cinders, I know! " Kicking a rock out of her path she halts abruptly and sits down on a stump. "Listen kid, people are not born evil, but sometimes they are so damaged by the world…they just do not want to be healed. They blame everyone except themselves."

"So, you tell me? Are we not doing them a favour?"

"A favour?" Cinders asks incredulously.

"Indeed"

She wants to argue the point when she suddenly realizes that Red's eyes are filled with tears as black as tar, she notices too, the traces left which stained her friends' cheek. The chapped lips. The bruises on her delicate hands.

She realizes one other thing. The thought that has been gnawing at the edge of her brain for so long she had stopped paying it any attention.

Red is a professional. A profoundly disappointed player in a centuries' long game. A victim? No, never that. More of an unwilling accomplice. A queen bee without her tribe. Displeased and dispossessed. Therein lies her danger.

In Cinders' heart, another crack. Her smile crooked she tries a playful punch. It does not land, instead she is swept of her feet by a sudden blast of fiery blast of air.

II

"You should know better by now." Red admonishes her.

"Would I be correct in my deduction that you are not quite as smart as you think you are?" Red smiles lazily, like a cold-blooded reptile. Unmoved.

"Oh NO! Not you too!" Cinders moans, disgruntled. She has now been reminded so often of her naivete, her own lack of brilliance too often.

She poses the question:

"If I am so useless, why are you here? Why did you manipulate your friends to take pity on me?"

"What am I so stupid NOT to see?"

"Seriously?" Red gazes at her young friend. "You still don't see it, do you? Now that IS stupid, Cinders. That's a tragedy, that …"

"Whatever!" Cinders snaps.

"No, Cinders, not whatever, no sarcasm, it does not suit you."

"You talk to angels, and they listen. You whisper the song in your heart into the ears of your friends, and they listen. You are so strong. Too strong. Stop hiding in your cloak of innocence."

III.

"You have defeated death so many times. Ever since your father left you. Was stolen from you."

Cinders shudders. A flood of nightmares washes over her.

"Cinders, listen to me. You must remember. When you were only two years old, you dreamt of me and my friends. Remember? It was not the fever, and it was no dream! Death was hovering. I was there. My siblings too.

To this day I will never forget that battle of wills. And old 'Skully" will always be winking at you. He is patience personified, for you. Only for you. He's not easily impressed, yet here we are today. Or I should say: Here you are today!"

"It's your life kid, THIS life belongs to you! Now stop being a drama queen - I'm catching it. Besides, we have a lot of work to do."

Red launches herself forward. Reaches into her cloak, her hands searching.

"In my recent travels, I found so many tales akin to yours. Unlike yours, they were weak, trivial. Let's get home. I will reveal them all."

With those words, she pulls a feather from her hidden wings.

"With this quill, your mother wrote me a letter. You should read it. Privately. Just place this on a piece of cloth."

IV.

"I don't believe you, Red."

"All the letters my mother had written. All the dolls she made me. All the little dresses she had sewn. They all burnt in the fire. When they took me and burned down my house. Just before they burned her as a heretic!"

"Read it, my lady."

"Not everything that the fire touched was destroyed. Your mother knew the ether. She was no heretic. She was the lone guard of a portal between our different worlds."

Cinders could listen no more. "SHE WAS NEVER ALONE! She had me!"

"And you were a newborn."

Realizing the truth in Red's words. Cinders' recoils at the thought. The hidden truth that behind all the years when she had allowed others to make her decisions for her. The power she had left for anyone to steal. She feels nauseated by her own reckless behaviour.

"You know something Red?" she asks.

"A lot, actually, but no, I cannot see what you are thinking at the moment…Strange…"

Cinders laughs, the sound of a million shards of tiny, shiny bullets falling on a brick pavement.

She turns to Red,

"Time for a reckoning."

"Let it burn."

§Fin

Resigner 💜

Now all you beautiful people, it's nighttime. Please be responsible whilst playing. Don't forget to have some fun though. (If not for you, do it for me😉).

#justmoveforward

My heartfelt thanks to everyone who supports me and keeps me from getting lost. Keep sprinkling those breadcrumbs.

🪝Keep on reading… the story is evolving. What does the future hold? We shall see.