#grandmere

The village ladies would all scold Rosabella for beating the boys in the village, and for not acting like the proper young lady she was becoming. The village chief’s wife, who unfortunately gave birth to Gregory, marched with her group of fellow mothers, to Grandmère’s cottage to compile a list of grievances about the girl. Grandmère promptly shoved them off her land with a broom. And when that didn’t work, the old woman proceeded to grab her crossbow. The ladies never returned. Not even when the hem of Rose’ skirt was a few inches too short, or when she laughed far too loudly, or when she beat up Gregory for simply being annoying. 

Cassandra stayed true to her word and kept Rosabella’s secret. But with each passing day she watched her father leave for a hunt, her desire to become a hunter only grew. She wanted to prove to her father that she could be strong enough. That she could be like him, she wasn’t going to be like the others. She shared her wants with Rosabella and Grandmère, asking them how to go about it. Grandmère suggested to just learn as much as she could from books and put it into practice in secret, and once Cassandra was ready, Grandmère would offer her support. And a good slap if there should be the need. 

And so, Rosabella took Cassandra into the forest. When on her nightly outings as a wolf, Rosabella came across many perfect spots for her to practice her archery. They would often sneak to and from the forest. Having many close calls when the hunters made a sudden decision to go for a small hunt. 

The villagers grew more and more tired and outraged whenever the morning after Wolf’s Time was filled with the remains of a slaughter pig. And it only grew worse when people began to be attacked in broad daylight. Yet no one was able to catch so much a glimpse of the wolf. Only the dark brown fur left behind. In desperation, the village chief called for the help of a shaman from a neighboring village across the mountain pass.

The Chief had called for a village meeting the day the Shaman arrived. The Chief had every lined up in a circle in the center of their small village. Rosabella stood beside Cassandra, both watching in confusion as the Shaman waved a bowl of burning incense gently as he walked. How was burning incense going to solve anything?  

The Shaman was an old man with fair skin, blue eyes and dressed in what Rose thought was the most hideous set of robes.

“Do you really think he can stop the wolf?” Rosabella whispered under her breath as she looked at Cassandra with amusement. 

“With a little smoke? No way.” Cassandra whispered back under her breath.

The girls giggle, Erinna shushes them quietly. Shaking her head. The village chief walked towards Rosabella.

The Chief was a bulky man with long brown hair that was pulled back in a small strip of leather. He had green eyes with a dark tanned skin from being under the sun. A dark blue sash strapped across his chest, over his brown vest. He looked troubled.

“Where is your Grandmère?”

With a sigh, Rosabella answered. “Grandmère said she was too old to stand in the sun all day. And that a shaman will solve nothing.”

The Chief only frowns. “I thought I told you to drag her by her wrinkly old skin if you had too.”

“To which she promptly told me to tell you, ‘Come get me yourself if it’s so bloody important.’”  

The mothers gasped in shock and shook their heads in disdain. The Shaman stopped his incense waving to glare at Rose as well. Rosabella looked down to her hands, it was always like this. The Chief merely scoffed before he walked away. Rosabella sighed in relief. The Shaman carried on with his incense, he walked slowly. Rose’s nose twitched, the smell grew strong as he got closer. 

When the Shaman was right in front of Rose, he paused. His head turning to look at her closer. Studying the red streaks of hair, the pale skin and large blue eyes. His eyes narrowed for what seemed like eternity for Rose. She could hear the women whispering amongst themselves, some nodding their heads. Some even looked smug. As if they were not surprised the Shaman stopped at her. That everything they ever scrutinized about her, the way she looked, the way she acted and spoke, was proof enough about how strange she was. 

“You.” Was the verdict. One simple word and her blood turned ice. 

“Me?” Rosabella asked, her head snapped up, her eyes wide.

The Shaman didn’t bother to answer her, only to turn to the rest of the villagers. 

“I know why the wolf has plagued your village!” He shouted. “She has the mark of the wolf!” He pointed to Rosabella. 

Rose starred in fear and shock. How? “What?!” But the Shaman ignored her and carried on with his proclamation. 

“Her hair is stained with the blood of the wolf’s victims! She was born to be the sacrifice! To pay for the wolf’s crimes! Build an altar and offer the child to the wolf! Then will your village finally be free of the wolf! The Bride of the Wolf will free you from this curse!” 

The villager’s gasp and one woman even says “I knew it! She’s the cause of all this!”

Quickly, two men grabbed onto Rosabella’s arms. Rose couldn’t move, she was frozen in terror. Her mouth agape, her eyes wide in fear.  

“No! You’re lying!” Cassandra cries out desperately, eyes wide with tears threatening to fall. “Let her go!”

Rosabella shakes her head frantically, pulling against the men. “Please… I have done nothing wrong! I am not the wolf’s bride!” 

“Please! Leave her alone! She’s innocent!”

“Hush Cassandra.” Royce grips his daughter’s arm as Rosabella is dragged away. “Or he’ll say you’re the bride as well!” He frowned. 

“Better than letting her die!” Cassandra protests, pulling against her father’s grip.

“Cassandra don’t test me! This is not one of your stories where speaking up for someone will save them, it will only drag you down with them.” He only wraps his arms across her chest to stop her from running towards Rose. He only pitted the girl. She was strange yes, but she didn’t deserve this fate. 

“Papá please… I can’t lose her!” She pleads, losing the battle against her tears that streamed down her face. This couldn’t be happening, this wasn’t fair. Failing over and over to remove her father’s arms, she stops her protests and sobs as her friend grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

The villagers ignore their protests, they begin to follow the men taking Rosabella away to the barn.  

“Please! I didn’t do anything!” Rosabella pleaded. The men simply tossed to her to the ground, a sob escaped her lips. The men chained her wrists and legs. The Shaman left a bowl of incense in front of Rose. 

“Please… I’m innocent!” She sobbed, her eyes pleading with the Shaman.

“I know you are innocent, but only the blood of the innocent can pay for the crimes of the wolf. Think of your village, your sacrifice will free them from the curse.” The Shaman patted her head.  

Her shoulders fell. “My village…” 

The men joined the group outside of the barn as they watched. Some woman gave her a pitying look. The Shaman joined them. 

“We have three days to prepare an altar before Wolf’s Time. I suggest you not try anything.” The doors slammed shut.

Rosebella stayed there frozen for hours. With a deep breath, Rose slowly layed down to her side, curled up tightly. She sobbed silently for hours. Praying for anyone to stop this. To wake her up and tell her it was all a nightmare. But no one came. 

Cassandra had hardly moved from her bedroom, the door remained tightly shut. She couldn’t stop crying. It was as if her heart had split in two. And, a burning anger wanted to rise from deep inside her. The only time she truly left, sneaking out from her room whilst her father was out in the village, and her mother was busy in the living room. She hardly ate the food her mother offered, actively avoided running into her father, and could not find solace in her books like she used to. 

She lay down upon her bed, silently looking out the window. Watching the snowfall on the day that should’ve been happy for her friend, but in fact was the opposite. How horrible, she mused. The day of Rosabella’s birth was now the day of her death. 

A thought crosses Cassandra’s mind. Does Grandmère know? She sits up. What if Grandmère didn’t know and has been waiting for Rosabella to come home? Looking back out the window, she knew someone had to tell her. Better her than someone from the village… She looked towards her bedroom door, listening silently to her parents faint voices for a moment, then pushed herself off the bed. She grabs her satchel, putting it both on before putting on her long violet cloak over her dress. With a deep breath, she unlocks her door. 

“Cassandra!” Her mother gasps in surprise as she looks over to see her child descending down the stairs. Erinna had been in the midst of preparing lunch for her family, the ladle dropping to the floor in her shock. Erinna quickly took notice of her cloak. “Where are you going?” She asks, concern etched on her face. 

Cassandra pauses at the base of the stairs, clutching the strap of her satchel before looking to her mother. “Grandmeré’s.” She says softly. 

“Oh…” Erinna looked as if she wanted to say more, but she stopped herself. “... Don’t be out too late… I’m sure she’s not in the best of moods.” 

Cassandra only stares blankly at her mother before she walks out the door. The walk to the cottage was silent and full of dread. So lost in her thoughts, Cassandra didn’t notice that she was standing at the front door. Her eyes glazed over. She knocks on the door.

No one answers. 

Cassandra frowns. She knocks again. 

“Go away!” A familiar voice yells out. The sound of things crashing is clear. 

Cassandra takes a breath before she yells out, “Grandmère, it’s Cassandra…” There is no answer, only a loud clatter. 

With a sigh, she places a hand upon the door handle - finding it to be unlocked and opens the door, stepping inside. “Is everything alright?” Her eyes widened as she looked at the state of the dining table, there were weapons all over it. Daggers, a crossbow, pistols, bullets. “What are you-?”

“Think child! Where’s all your intelligence you so proudly show off! What does it look like I’m doing?! I’m going to break Rosabella out of her prison!” 

Grandmère was a thin, tall woman with a sharp pair of green eyes behind round  glasses. Her hair was stark white, her skin was pale, and her lips were in a firm line. She looked frail with her long bony fingers, but Cassandra knew better than to underestimate the strength of the older woman. She was dressed in a dark grey dress with a white shall, and black boots. Grandmère had aged well. 

“Getting a shaman, ha! As if a shaman will solve their problems! I told them, you need to use silver to kill that monster, but did they listen to me? No! It’s not as if I’ve hunted those blasted wolves for nearly sixty years of my life. What could I know?” The old woman grumbles out. 

Cassandra watches the old woman she’s come to know carefully, observing the weapons all over the dining table once again. She walks closer to the table, her eyes shining with newfound hope. “Let me help.”

Grandmère scoffed, she grabbed a pistol to clean as she eyed Cassandra. “How can a child help me? Have you ever broken someone out of their prison?” She raises a thin grey brow. 

Cassandra’s eyes narrow slightly. “No, I haven’t. But I can learn!”

Grandmère lowers the pistol as she looks over the child. “Even if I did accept your help, you’re far too young! You’ll be fumbling about more than you actually helping me!”

“Too young? I’m not a little girl anymore.” She says with a scoff. “And you’re too old to be sneaking about at night. What if you trip over a pebble, then where would you be? On the ground because you can’t get up.”  

Grandmère glares at the little girl. “You’re too noisy.” 

“And you're too skinny.” 

The old woman and child glare at each in silence for a long moment before Cassandra breaks into a smile. “Just trust me!” 

Grandmère’s eyes narrowed her eyes, she sighs. She looks back to her weapons. 

“Where did you get all this stuff?”

“I’m a hunter, dear. It’s mine, from my youth.” She answers as she cleans another dagger.

Cassandra gasps in surprise, “You were a hunter?!”

“Not just any old hunter girl, I hunted monsters. Monsters like that wolf.” 

Cassandra’s eyes widened even more if it was possible. She had so many questions, and she was about to ask before she noticed a large leather bag on the floor by Grandmère’s feet. Her shoulders slumped. It was as if the pain from Rosabella’s situation resurfaced inside her. She was going to be alone, wasn’t she? She’d never see them again… 

 “You’re leaving, aren’t you…”

“Well we can’t very well stay here now can we? This would be the very first place they’d search. I have to take Rosabella someplace safe.” 

Cassandra understood. She didn’t like it, not at all, but she understood and oh how she wished she didn’t. A thought comes to mind. “If you hunt monsters like these wolves… then how come you didn’t kill Rose? Isn’t she one of them?”

The old woman finally stopped. Slowly lowering the dagger. “She’s not one of them.”  

Cassandra frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s different, she can change at will without pain. The others can shift when the moon is full. And when they shift they always howl from pain.” Her hand reached for another pistol.

“But why would you risk it?” Cassandra placed her hand on the pistol. 

“Move the hand girly.” 

“I will, once you answer.” She says, her gaze unwavering.

Grandmère glared, after a long moment she looked away. With a sigh, the old woman spoke at last. “... The life of a hunter… is a life you live alone… everyone I knew died from some monster… I was the only one left.” The old woman paused. Her breathing slowed. “I was lonely… and I had stumbled upon this village by mere chance. But they thought I was strange so they sent me away to live in this old cottage. But oh did they come crying to me whenever someone fell ill.” She tsked, “But when the Chief brought Rosebella in that tiny blanket, I fell in love. I learned quickly what she was, and she was different. I had never seen hair like heirs before. Nor had I seen a wolf pup with such blue eyes.” She finally looked back to Cassandra. “It was a chance to have someone, and I took it. Fate brought her to me, it was a risk I knew how to deal with… if Rose was the same as those monsters.” She pulled the pistol from under Cassandra’s hand. “And she wasn’t.”  

Cassandra grew quiet as she listened to the old woman’s tale. She could imagine it clearly, like she was there herself. In a way, she understood. Thoughts ran through her mind slowly as she listened to the old woman’s explanation, and she watched Grandmère pull the pistol from under her hand. Looking back down to the leather bag at the floor, a thought comes to mind. Albeit it was incredibly reckless, and she doubts Grandmeré will accept, but it’s the only one she had. “Take me with you, please.”

Grandmère froze, she stared at Cassandra. “And what about your parents? They would know I took you with me.”  

“I don’t care. Rose is my best friend, and she's the only one who has ever understood me.” She says with a shake of her head. I’m strange too. “And I can’t go pretending that everything is alright, in this small minded village, if she’s not here.”

“If you come with us, you’ll probably never see your parents again.” She tilts her head, looking her over. “Are you really willing to never see them again?” 

“I know, and I’ll miss them.” She admits, keeping her gaze locked onto the old woman. “But that won’t change my mind.”

The old woman stared at the girl for a long time, searching for something. Cassandra did her best to not look away. Grandmère’s gaze was intense, as if it was piercing in her very soul. She relaxed her gaze when she seemed to have found what she was looking for. She continues her task of cleaning her weapons.

“Go home. Pack one bag. Go to your bed in your day clothes. When your parents are asleep, sneak out.” She says nothing more. Cassandra hugged her. 

“BUT DON’T BE SMILING AND OBVIOUS ABOUT IT!” Cassandra only giggled. “So, what’s the plan?” 

After spending the day with the old woman, Cassandra did just as she was told. She went back home. She packed one bag. She got into her bed in her day clothes. She allowed her parents to tuck her into bed. And when her parents were asleep, she rose from her bed. 

“Goodbye Mamá, Papá… I love you…” She turns to the window, opening it, a cold breeze filling her room, but she ignores her urge to shiver as she sits on the edge of the window. Reaching behind her bed, she grabs the packed bag and throws the strap over her shoulder. She looks back into her room that she’s known all her life. “I’m sorry.”

She closes the window behind her before jumping down to the snow, landing with a soft oof. 

A sigh filled her ears. “You couldn’t have chosen the door? Like a normal person?” Grandmère scowled. 

Cassandra merely rolled her eyes, “If by normal you mean a girl who looks at boys all day? Or dreams about boys? Then no. I’m not normal.” 

With a scoff from the old woman, the pair went off to the barn.

Rosebella slept. And when she didn’t sleep she only stared at the walls of the barn. She didn’t know if it was day or night, only that she was alone and cold. And hungry. 

It was for the village. Her thoughts would remind her the reason for her suffering. It’s for the best. She couldn’t disagree. They never never liked her anyway. But, did she really have to die? Clearly she must. The shaman said so. But... I don’t want to die. 

Now that wasn’t really her choice now was it? Rosabella pulled on her chains, she was exhausted and weak from the lack of food. You’d think a sacrifice would be treated better. Well… at least they didn’t chain her to a tree. Her eyes hurt from crying, she closed her eyes, it hurt to think. She just wanted to sleep. 

When Rosabella awoke, she was being carried into the village bath house. Her head rolled, her eyes stung from the sunlight, she hadn’t seen the sun in days. The woman who carried her stripped her of her dress and proceeded to wash her body clean. The bath water smelled of rose petals. She tried to pull herself free but the women only shushed her, and carried on. 

Once the bath was finished, they dried her up and dressed in a simple red dress with a hood. It didn’t fit her well. They didn’t even have the courtesy to make her a dress that fit? Rosabella found herself unable to care. They brushed and braided her hair, painted red paint to her lips and took her outside. 

There the villagers were waiting. An altar was built in the center of the village, she  swallowed thickly. 

“Please… don’t do this…” They all ignored her. 

She was set upon the altar, and chained up once more. Her eyes searched the crowd, but she saw neither Cassandra or Grandmère. Good. She didn’t want them to see her. To see her as a sacrificial lamb. 

The Shaman did his prayer that Rosabella didn’t bother to listen too. It was just a formality in her opinion. A nice way to send someone to their death. Afterwards, the Shaman sent everyone off to their homes when the sun began to set. 

Well, it won’t be long now. She closed her eyes. 

The next time she opened her eyes, it was deep into the night, she saw a figure looming over her. “... Cassandra?” 

Cassandra smiles. “Hello Rose!” She whispered. She looked to another figure, who was pulling on the chains.

Rosabella gasps, she sits up. “Grandmère… What are you both doing here?!”  

“Hush! We’re breaking you free, what else does it look like?” She says in a low voice. Grandmère turned her attention back to picking the locks. The chains fall to the altar. 

“But!”

“I don’t want to hear a word about you being a sacrifice! It’s looney that’s what it is.” She grumbles. Rosabella stared in wonder.

“We better hurry.” She says as she pulls Rosabella up, quickly taking her hand and guiding her away. 

“I’m not letting those fools murder my grandchild.”

The old woman leads the two girls through the woods, past her cottage. On the edge of the forest a dirt path comes to view with an open carriage with a horse waiting for them. Grandmère lifts the girls into the carriage She groans a bit picking up the girls before she climbs in. Once they settle she reaches into her satchel and pulls out a beautiful bright red embroidered cloak and hands it to Rosabella. 

“I was saving this for your 16th birthday, but now you’ll just have to grow into it.” The old woman smiles gently as she cups her granddaughter’s cheek.”

Rosabella stared at the beautiful cloak. Gently stroking it before putting it on, she smiles. “It's wonderful, Grandmère, thank you.” 

The old woman smiles before she looks at Cassandra. “Are you still sure?” 

Cassandra nods with a smile of her own, “There’s no turning back.”

The old woman nods before she reaches into her dress pocket, pulling out a piece of parchment and handing it to the driver. “Go to the city. No stops.”