Feral Hearts

Prologue

Victoria's POV

I watched as my mother twisted her palms.

Murmurs rose and fell in the dining room while the men had been sitting for hours now.

"Sweetheart, take them the fresh pot of coffee," said mother.

I walked towards the edge of the dining room while feeling disgusted with the cloud of cigarette smoke hovering over the table.

I wish this scent would fade away, yet it's impossible knowing that it was held captive by the closed windows and drapes.

"Wolves are conquering everything," said my father, stopping abruptly when he saw me in the doorway.

"Would anyone like more coffee?" I asked, holding up the sterling pot.

Some men looked down, but others coughed.

"Young lass you're turning into a beautiful butterfly," said a friend of my fathers from the village.

"And I heard that you're talented."

"Indeed, she is!" father said. "She has a very unique style and she's exceptionally smart," he added with a wink making me blush uncontrollably.

"So, she takes after her mother then," joked one of the men and everyone laughed.

"Aye, tell me little girl," said the man who sat at the far end of the table before sipping on his coffee and staring back at me.

"What do you think of this king who hated witches and humans to death?"

"Well," interrupted by my father quickly.

"That's not really conversation for a young girl, now, is it?"

"It will be conversation for everyone, Victor, young and old," said the man who look depress and heartbroken.

"Besides," he said, smiling bitterly.

"It's not as if the king didn't announce it all throughout the villages? Knowing that we are hunted and killed, can we still consider letting are children die unaware." My father shifted in his chair.

"What do I think about the king?" I paused, avoiding eye contact with my father.

"I think King Luke and his son Lukas are bullies, I think we should show them that they shouldn't be allowed to come and take what they pleased and-"

"That's enough, princess. Leave the pot of coffee and join your mother in the kitchen."

"But it's true!" I pressed. "It's not right."

"Enough!" said my father.

So, without pressing the arguments, I returned to the kitchen, stopping short to eavesdrop.

"Don't encourage her, Clad. The girl is so headstrong, it scares me to death," father said.

"Well," the man replied, "now we see how she takes after her father, don't we? You've raised a real warrior."

My father was silent.

The gathering ended and the men left the house at alternating intervals, some through the front door and some through the back.

"Mother, look at the moon, it can mirror the same harrowing emotion that I have within me right now." I gripped the window while having different thoughts and some hopeful ideas.

I felt numb, yet I am trap within my own sorrow. I am denying the truth and acted like everything wasn't real.

"Father, can you see me right now? Can you see your princess crying? Maybe you'll laugh at me knowing that I am not strong and I wasn't even ready to see the moon like this," I murmured before staring at my hands.

My hands are now painted with pain, a dark red paint that I wasn't able to clean yet.

------

"She looks pretty," I said standing at the side

of my grandma's coffin and I felt my father's fingers tapping on my shoulder.

"Father, does she know I'm here?"

"She does," father said, putting his arms around me.

"She's watching from above." I looked up toward the moon and then back to my father.

"Remember when you have a firefly, and we let it flew? And remember during summer, when we flew the kite?" I nodded, because I remember that winter night. I tried to save this little firefly knowing that it was cold outside and it might die.

I also remember the joy I had when my father teleported both of us into the mountains and we played kite. Even though it takes too much of his energy when he is teleporting, he still won't think twice, knowing it can make me happy.

"The summer came and I yelled to you that it was time to let the firefly go. And the wind came and I yelled to you that it was time to let the kite flew. The string started unwinding, and the wooden spool spun through your hands, remember? The kite went higher and higher. I had forgotten to tie the string to the spool. Do you remember what happened?"

"The kite disappeared up into the sky," I replied.

"Exactly, that's what happens when people die. Their spirit flies up into the sky," my father said.

"Maybe Grandma found the kite and the firefly," I eagerly muttered, and he nodded.

"Maybe," he murmured before combing my hair with his fingers.

I bitterly laughed, "So you've found grandma as well with my kite and firefly, right?" I asked almost a whisper.

But I don't know why, but something crawls within my heart.

I am suppressing my screams, yet my heart was already broken and screaming from within.

I can feel my head throbbing but it chanted words, persuading me to do what my heart's desire.

Vengeance!

That's what I need, for hatred to embrace my whole being.

-------

"Hold still!" I complained.

"I had an itch," said my father, grinning from ear to ear.

"You did not, you're just trying to make this difficult," I teased, trying to capture his bright blue eyes.

"I'm testing you. Real painters must be able to capture the moment," he said.

"But if you don't hold still, your eyes will be crooked," I said, shading the side of his face with a light shade of gray.

"They're crooked anyway," he said, crossing his eyes, which made me laugh.

Then he wiggled his eyebrows so I rolled my eyes.

But we both halted when we heard footsteps approaching.

"Elder!" My father moved his eyes towards the new visitor with his stoic eyes.

"Why are you here Josiah?" he asked.

"E-Elder the King's warriors are approaching-"

"Then get ready and chant for barriers," my father replied, not letting the man finish his words.

But my forehead knotted when the man is still anxious.

"E-Elder the barrier was taken down," my eyes grew wide and my father looked worried and shocked.

"What? How can that happened-"

"The king and his warriors are not alone," he murmured in a low tone then my father balled his fist.

"Who is with them?" My father asked but I can sense that he already knew.

"O-Our own comrades Elder," he said before bowing his head and I can even hear him sobbed.

"B-But father I thought the king hated our kind but why-" He tapped my shoulders not letting me finish my sentence before smiling bitterly.

His eyes lost their shine and I felt heartbroken just seeing him like that.

"They are blinded by his promises and after this battle if we fail. Then they are the next prey. The king only uses them to outnumber our tribe, promising other witches that he will spare them, but in the end. He ought to eliminate our kind not sparing young or old and women or men," he said with his voice laced with pain and exhaustion.

"Mother don't you think your hands are cold?" I questioned my mother who had her eyes wide open staring at the abyss.

Her mouth hangs open and seeing her like this made my heart twist in pain.

"If only I can go with you in the sky." I held her hands before kissing them.

I don't care about the red paint that made me looked a total mess.

I just want to feel her, to feel them.

"I am sorry mother; you don't need to worry about me now. So, p-please close your eyes. I can protect myself now. There won't be beast that would hurt me," I whispered kissing her forehead and using my palm to help her close her eyes.

Then my eyes darted towards my father who had his eyes closed.

I moved towards him and smile.

"Your eyes aren't crook; I will always paint your memory within me. And I promise you father, that I would use their blood to paint you a portrait." I gripped his tattered clothes.

Promising and chanting my promises.

"Father, I won't let them eliminate our tribe. So, don't worry anymore. Now, I will let you go, I'll finally let the string of my pain and emotion unwinding. But I won't forget your smile, your jokes, your teachings and your love. Father you watch me from where you are now. Watch how I'll make them remember our tribe."

His cold hands are unmoving, I wish I could feel him clutching on my hands.

I wish I could still feel warmth from his kisses.

I wish for my father to open his eyes.

I wish my mother would come and hug me from behind.

And I wish to hear them laugh and tease each other.

Yet, I am left with their bodies covered with mud and thick red paint with its metallic smell.

"Ignis," I coldly said.

Watching how little fires appeared eating the things that comes on its way.

They're skin are warm again yet, their hearts are still frozen and cold. No pulse and just pale body.

Please say hi to grandma for me.

Goodbye father, I won't be able to see you smile again and might not be able to hear your jokes but my heart will remember. I'll remember how you became a great father to me," I said as my tears made its appearance known.

"Mother, I would probably miss your cooking, and it's a shame that I wasn't able to ask you to teach me. And maybe I'll miss your scolding as well with your loud mouth."

The fire dance around, and slowly it approached my mother, seeing her slowly eaten by flame made my eyes shed more tears.

Mother...

I'm sorry...

If you didn't insist saving me, I won't be able to see you like this. I might as well join you in peace.

But you pushed me towards life, making me face different questions.

How can I live now?

How can I survive?

Why me?