The Cerise Cloak

The direction he came from was filled with giant mushrooms and tiny fluttering fey intermingles with the black trimmed orange butterflies which twisted through the fragments of light. Trying to dry their dewy wings.

The morning fog held fast. Hanging low and covering everything like a hazy gray blanket.

As the man walked through it, it dampened his pants, making him pull the flaps of his red velvety cloak tighter around him to block against the moisture.

He wore the garment with the hood pulled up over his head. The hem just brushing the grass around his feet. It was long enough that it just fit his tall frame.

He was moving so early in the morning with great purpose. A set look in his brown eyes and intensity making his whiskered jaw tighten rhythmically.

The trees thinned and the grass was shorter, the mushroom less colorful as they parted the grass with their tan and white tops. Tiny purple flowers crept through the grass on wild vines. They crunched under his heavy boot as his feet found the path toward the small hut with the thatched roof. Leaning roughly to one side.

Two other men stepped to his flank. "Is this it?"

"This is her." The leader said. "She'll know where he is. And he doesn't get away this time."

"We're ready boss." The bigger of the two rolled his shoulders in preparation for battle.

"Stay out here. Out of sight. Let me know if anyone comes but don't make yourself obvious unless I tell you to be. If it's him. Let him come..."

"Yes boss." The tall, wiry one nodded.

When Seth, the leader looked back at them both the others lowered their heads in deference. Grunting in satisfaction, he headed in.

There was a woman's terrified scream as he threw open the door. But it was quickly stifled.

***

I felt a little guilty as I headed off toward Gram's with a basket full of homemade bread, I'd safely tucked away. I headed out today in my simple brown gown. A worn one of my mother's that she'd hemmed in for me. The sleeves of my white undershirt billowing around my arms. Keeping me cool enough to not be bothered by the spring heat trapped in the trees of the forest. Enclosing all the humidity in miserable pockets separated by cool expanses.

My only extravagance was the necklaces of thick beads which Gram had made me. Often offering me a new one and telling me they'd keep me safe on my walks into the woods. Even though they were red.

I was looking forward to the walk with my friend, Betty, today.

A refreshing break from my chores.

Betty decided to walk partway with me, as she often did. About halfway there she'd turn back. "Why do you bring these out here every week, Cerise?"

"The bread?"

She nodded.

"Because you know Gram hates coming into the village!" I gave her a look. Sensing we were going to have one of our frequent disputes over Gram.

Betty doesn't like her. I suspected it was because Gram had tried to save Betty's little brother but hadn't gotten there in time and her magic was rendered useless by the lack of time.

"She still has to, Cerise."

"But not as often." I countered.

"Your mother is still making them because of your dad?"

"Yes, if it wasn't for Gram, he'd have died of the palpitations. You know that."

"She creeps me out." Betty shuddered.

"You know how many people she's saved."

"I do. Still creepy."

"I love Gram." I defended. The sage old woman had taught me a lot about mixing potions and healing herbs.

"Most of the villagers do. That's why everyone calls her grandma."

It was true. She wasn't truly any of our family. He was the village healer so despite being a hermit who resided a ways, outside of Vesvera village, she was usually well-tended. Everyone's grandma because what she did with her herbs and potions was so important to us.

And grandma had no family, so we all served as her children.

She's saved so many of our loved ones.

She'd supposedly had a son once, but no one knew what'd happened to him. It was thought that the wolves that haunted these woods had gotten him.

That'd been before the hunter came.

***

We reached the midway point and Betty turned around and began to head back to the village. Leaving me alone to tread the darkest parts of the forest.

I was careful walking the dirt trek leading to Gram's house. We all knew of the wolves that filled the length of these woods. However, there were very few surrounding Vesvera because of the hunter. Only a few of the villagers had ever seen the protector of our section of the woods.

They called him Wrath. The biggest of the wolves out here had seemed to claim this as his territory.

He was the only one I was ever worried about coming across. However, it was said that generally one was safe from him as long as they weren't wearing crimson. It was well known that for some reason, the color seemed to trigger him, so I was careful never to wear it. Other than my pretty necklaces Gram gave me. Which I always ensured were safely tucked under the hem of my white undershirt.

Gram's tiny hut came into view.

I noticed everything was eerily quiet here. Undisturbed. It seemed like even the birds dared not peep. I noticed the butterflies that always haunted the path and tended to linger on Gram's roof were gone today.

Odd. I shook off the weird feeling and headed in the door.