Red - 1. Chapter 1 - Dama's Tale

Things had recently gone from bad to worse, although Dama couldn’t see how that was really possible. Sixty years ago the world as mankind knew it ended because of two separate events. The first was an unknown disease that began to kill humanity rapidly and second was a madness that spread throughout the world during the worst meteor shower the world had ever seen. The top of the food chain suddenly blew up and things people only thought existed in movies or horror novels were suddenly proven to be real. The days of mankind ruling the earth had ended.

The world Dama grew up in had been vastly different than that of her parents and grandparents. They occasionally talked about the big old cities where many lived, computers, cars, and something called a cell phone but these ideas and items were now long gone. Today if a hundred people lived in a town it was a major thing. Dama had grown up following something her father had called a roadway to the next town over where her grandmother had lived. She quickly became a part of the new town when she arrived. She hadn’t known that the move would be permanent or that the cape she was given would be part of her ordeal until she had questioned her grandmother that first night.

Dama’s grandmother had greeted her warmly and quickly removed her cape. It was snow white and her grandmother had cried when she saw it.

“Grandma Mara, why do you cry so?”

“You’re now an adult and no longer a child.”

“Mama said I would be an adult when I reached the other side.” Dama said it proudly as she watched her grandmother add another log to the fire. She gazed as her grandmother moved her chair closer to the warmth of the fireplace.

“Yes, she had to promise that you would be. I’m the one that must now tell you all the things our children can never be told.”

Dama sat patiently as Grandma Mara carefully settled down in her rocking chair. She saw that her grandmother had wrapped herself in an old blanket that was so very different from the ones her mother made. This one was blue with an odd horse on it. She wondered why the horse had a horn, but before she could comment, her grandmother began to speak.

“When the old world ended, people didn’t know how to live without power. So many people grew sick and died. In the first months alone millions, perhaps even billions, of people got very ill or went crazy. Many more would have died if “they” hadn’t stepped forward. They forced us apart. They found the best of mankind, those who had survived and split us up into new towns. They had the forethought to include teachers and farmers into each town. New jobs were created for humanity. People had to learn how to care for the earth again and how to grow their own food. There was no more excess. If it wasn’t for them, none of us humans would have survived.”

“Who are they? Why do you talk of them so?”

“They are the ones we use to think didn’t exist child, but they have always been there, watching us. They lived in the darkness, the deep woods of the world, and in our cities with us. They are the three races we never believed existed as the world became confident in science and forgot about the old ways. They are the vampires who drink human blood and they are the werewolves who hunt humanity. Both of these races will occasionally change humans into one of their ownkind as well. The final race is that of the Elven. They can be as beautiful and as cruel as either of the other two races. They look for mates or food depending on which race is hunting the human wearing their color cape. In order to survive we made an agreement with them. We would send our children on the eve of their eighteenth birthday to see a relative in another town. We were to tell our child nothing more than they were going to see family for some made up event. They would be given one of five cloaks. If they arrived at the town they were heading to, they would be welcomed with open arms and made part of that new town’s community. You’ve noticed we rarely travel to another village except for a special event like a wedding or the birth of a child. Even then we must be back in our own village by nightfall.”

Dama suddenly felt cold. She stared at the white cloak she had worn and realized it had been given to her as she had left the house and was given the directions here to her grandmother. What had that cloak meant?

“Grandmother, just what do the cloaks mean?”

“There are five different cloaks my child.”

“Yes, you said that,” Dama commented as she watched her grandmother rearrange the blankets she had wrapped around herself, trying to keep warm.

Grandma Mara slowly looked at her grand-daughter. Her pale green eyes seemed ancient and haunted. She gently sighed as her eyes locked on Dama, commanding her attention with her words as well as her eyes.

“The blue cloak means the child wearing it may only be hunted by those of the vampire clans. If the child is chosen by one of them, they may be taken as food or as a mate. It would be up to the vampire who captured them.”

Dama shook as the realization struck her that she could have easily been dead if she had worn that cloak.

“The green cloak is for the Elves. They rarely chose a human, but when they do the child is never seen again.”

“Do you know what happens to those chosen by the Elves, Grandma?”

“No one does, Dama. No one will ever know.”

Dama moved her own chair away from the table and closer to the fireplace. She may have felt warm when she arrived, but the truth she was being told chilled her to the bone.

“The brown cloak is for the children of the moon. They also hunt for mates or for food. If a werewolf attacks the child, the child will never be accepted into a town even if they manage to make it to one. Any blood that would have been shed would show against the very light brown and the child will either become a mate or dies.”

Terror pushed Dama to ask what she truly wanted to know.

“But, what of the white cloak? What does it mean?”

Grandma Mara looked at Dama and shook her head.

“The white mean all three races seek a mate and the child given it is found to be expectional for one reason or another. The child who wears it cannot be killed or harmed. However, the child might be claimed as a mate by anyone of the three races.”

“How is a child claimed?”

“Remember back to when you were being sent to me. Do you recall what your mother told you before you left?”

“It is the same words she has been telling me since I was a child. Don’t talk to strangers. Ignore anyone who calls you. Stay on the trail. Never leave it for any reason. I have known those old sayings since I could first walk.”

“We managed to get one single agreement from all three races, Dama. As long as a child never talked to anyone while crossing to the other village they would be safe. They could not wander from the path, for if they did, they would again be fair game. The cloak would mark them and those who hunted could look for their color, but they could never take a child unless they didn’t obey.”

“You mean that wasn’t just her usual warnings? We had always thought mother was just over protective.”

Dama sat feeling icy cold as the meaning of the cloaks sank in. She had felt that she was being followed as soon as the village had faded from sight. She had been told it would be a full day’s walk to reach her grandmother’s place. Leaving her home that morning before seven am, by noon she was feeling really weary after having walked in the hot sun. She had considered stopping more than once to pick flowers along the way, but her mother’s warning kept ringing in her ears, so she stayed on the path. She had heard someone crying in pain at one point and almost went to help them, but then she heard someone calling to her, “to come play little girl,” from the other side of the path. Dama resisted both. At one point, she had even thought she was dreaming when she caught sight of the beautiful woman in a forest green dress. The woman kept waving to her and calling her to come rest. If it hadn’t been for the chill in the night air and finally catching sight of the smoke drifting from the cook fires and fireplaces she might have followed. Instead, she increased her speed and made it safely to her grandmother’s home.

“What if I had stopped to talk and yet made it to the village?”

“You would have already broken the rules. They would have until midnight to claim you and anyone else who harbored you for whatever they desired. Your cloak would have marked you, but it would have left anyone else who harbored you in great danger. That is why when I greeted you outside the door, I asked you if you had met anyone along the path.”

Dama now knew the danger she could have put Grandma Mara in. Exhaustion soon overcame her and her grandmother covered her with a blanket and let her sleep.

Time passed and while she swore she would never fall in love or have children, eventually, she met a man that took her breath away. Ross was one of the village’s best farmers. He was tall, strong, and very good looking. His deep green eyes and long brown hair had many of the single females out to capture him. He was often approached by the strangers who came to trade with him in the town square. They inquired if he might like to marry one of them, but eventually he found himself attracted to the youthful and very attractive Dama and the two quickly married.

For a woman who said she never wanted to marry or have children, her promises to herself were not kept. Nine months after her marriage she gave birth to her son, Wabe. Wabe wasn’t an only child long, because, before his first birthday had arrived, his sister Mara was born. By Wabe’s fourth birthday his brother Nock joined his older brother and sister. Dama loved her children fiercely and protected them in every way she could find. She drilled into their heads the same rules her mother had given her growing up.

Time passed and on the day before Wabe’s eighteenth birthday a box arrived with a note.

Dama,

The cloak is for your son, Wabe. He is to head back to your original village to see your mother. Remember you are to tell him nothing. We will know if you have. He is to leave no later than seven am.

A cold chill ran through Dama’s body. She was whisked back twenty years to the eve she had arrived at her grandmother’s door in her white cloak. Now a new cloak sat in a box for her son. She was horrified, but even she had to admit that there was no crime, no illness, and the traders brought things the village need since they had no blacksmith. Besides everyone knew what had happened to Gret when her husband died and she had not allowed her only son to put on his cloak and go on the trip. The following day the cabin she had been living in burned down and both Gret and her son vanished. Two days later, Gret’s body had been found looking as if wild dogs had ripped her apart.

The following morning Dama gave Wabe the box and reminded him of all the rules. She handed him the directions to his grandmother’s house. She kissed him on the cheek as he opened the box and slipped on his new green cloak. It was a perfect match for her son’s eyes.

She stood on her doorstep wishing desperately that she could call him back and keep him safe. However, she knew she had no choice and her two other children were still there with her. Ross had wept all night and headed out to the outer-most pasture to keep himself from going after his son. As evening came, Dama ran from her own home to her grandmother’s.

Dama found her asleep in front of the fire. She was now the ancient in the village and while Dama hated to wake her, she needed answers.

“Grandma Mara, please, wake up. I need to ask you something,” pleaded Dama as she gently shook the old woman.

Mara’s eyes flashed open. Her blue eyes held Dama’s own for a moment.

“Child, what is it that you need?”

“How will I know the fate of my child after he has been given a cloak?”

Mara sat down in her rocking chair and pulled her blankets tighter around her body. She felt a chill even in the heat of summer. Slowly, she gathered her thoughts and faced her granddaughter.

“You never asked what became of your own white cloak, Dama.”

Dama paused. She remembered looking at the garment she happily left lying on the table when she had gotten to her grandmother’s house, but after learning its significance, she never wanted to see it again.

“To be honest, until now I never thought about it.”

“A box was left at my house the same time your cloak arrived at your mother’s home. Mine simply said if you arrived I was to place your robe inside and put it outside the door that night. A strip of the cape would be removed and sent to your mother. Because she got the strip she would know you weren’t taken. If however you were chosen, she would have been sent back nothing because you would no longer have existed as you were.”

Dama shook as the realization of what she had just sent her son into, finally sank in.

The night was difficult as it passed so slowly. Dama and Ross took turns checking by the door. Finally unable to keep his eyes open, Ross passed out on the kitchen table. Their daughter Mara finally came wandering out after waking to the sound of her parents constandtly pacing the floor.

“Mom, what on earth has you and Dad so worked up?”

“Nothing,” Dama said trying to cover her anxiety. “Your father was expecting some supplies and he has been all worked up because they didn’t arrive. Go back to bed. We have a lot of work tomorrow and you still have some time to sleep before you go to your morning class as well.”

“Ugh. I don’t know why we all have to learn such stupid things, mother. I mean, do I really need to learn how to weave and which mushrooms in the forest aren’t poisonous? I mean the traders bring us most of the things we don’t make ourselves.”

“You are barely seventeen and it won’t be long till you want a husband of your own. Just realize if you become the woman of the house you are responsible for everything. If the traders don’t bring cloth for a year or more, then it is up to you to make your own.”

Sighing but realizing she wouldn’t win this fight, Mara headed back to bed. Shortly after sunrise Dama got up the courage to open the door. There was a box sitting on her doorstep. She opened it and inside was a long green strip of cloth. She clutched tightly in her hands and sobbed softly in relief.

If sending Wabe out into the forest had been hard, it was twice as hard when Mara’s turn arrived. Again, on the night before her ordeal a box arrived.

Ross,

This box is for your daughter, Mara. She will be sent to see your sister in the town to the west. She is to follow all rules and you are to tell your daughter nothing. We will know if you have. She is to be on the path no later than seven am.

Dama was scared. This time the note had been addressed to her husband.

“I won’t do it, Dama. I can’t send my little girl to see Lissa. I refuse to let her go out there while those … those monsters are around our only daughter!”

“We don’t have a choice here. Mara has to go tomorrow. She has to go because we still have to worry about Nock. He is still so young, Ross. We can’t allow what happened to Gret to happen to us. We have to protect Nock.”

Ross was beside himself. He knew he would be unable to see his daughter off. By five in the morning, he marched himself out to the fields and kept working himself hard till the sun was set to go down.

Again, Dama was left to see one of her children off on these horrible missions alone. Vague images of how her mother had looked on the day she left now haunted Dama’s memory as she prepared her daughter.

“I can’t believe I am getting to leave this town even if it for a day or so. I didn’t know Aunt Lissa was going to need help preparing for her wedding.”

“Yes dear, she is. Now I have a new traveling cloak for you. Remember, as you go to follow the directions written on that paper. Also, don’t talk to strangers,” began Dama.

“Don’t leave the path for any reason,” grumbled Mara. “Mom, you have been giving us all the same information for years. I know what I am doing.”

Dama kissed her daughter’s cheek.

“Just be careful,” Dama said as she handed her daughter the box containing the cloak.

Mara opened it and pulled a snow white robe out. Dama almost fainted when she spotted it.

“Oh, Mom isn’t it gorgeous. Aunt Lissa really knows how to pick out a gift.”

Dama could only nod and pass her a basket full of food, cakes, and a large flask of water.

Mara smiled and waved and ran off down the path at one minute to seven in the morning. Dama could barely stand as she watched the final spot of white vanish into the darkness of the surrounding forest. She hadn’t realized how long she stood clutching the doorframe till Nock spoke.

“Are you alright Mom?”

The sound snapped her out of her misery. She couldn’t let Nock know what was wrong.

“Yes, dear. I was just seeing your sister off. What would you like for breakfast? I know you have class today.”

“Oh, nothing special is needed. I’ll just grab some fruit. You look like you need a rest.”

Dama shook it off as she saw her son moving around cleaning things up. Her youngest was so different from his siblings. Wabe had taken after his father. He was tall and strong and the girls were already paying attention to him before he had to undergo his ordeal. The only things Wabe had really enjoyed were farming and hunting.

Dama’s daughter was more a mix of Ross and herself. She had Ross’s height but Dama’s fine features, blue eyes, and natural curves. Mara wasn’t the slightest bit interested in house work or farming. She was out to have fun and see just how many boys she could interest. If it hadn’t been for the fact everyone knew children were never left alone until after they became adults, Mara would never have left a virgin.

Nock wasn’t like either of his siblings. He looked more like his mother with fine features, dark black hair, blue eyes, and a small stature. He never had a problem keeping house, learning to sew, cook, or farm. He couldn’t do the massive tilling that Wabe had been able to do, but he focused more on a smaller area and seemed to be able to produce miracles within that section he made his own. There was also a lack of flirting with the girls of the town that Wabe had seemed to excel at.

Dama momentarily forgot about Mara while she went about trying to help Nock clean up.

It was after dusk before Ross dragged himself in the door. He had exhausted himself in the fields all day and only came home when it became too dark to see. Dama, Ross, and Nock sat down to a meal of soup and fresh baked bread before Nock was sent to bed. Ross was too tired this time to do as he had when Wabe went and he collapsed as soon as Nock had gone into his bedroom.

Dama spent the night in front of the fire place awaiting the morning.

At dawn the next day there was a box on her door step. With great trepidation she opened it to find a long white strip inside. Her heart soared as she carefully placed the white strip in a box with the green strip she had received from Wabe’s ordeal. She cried tears of joy realizing both of her children had managed to pass through their ordeals unscathed.

The family slowly got back into a routine after Mara had moved in with her Aunt Lissa. It was late the following spring when Grandma Mara passed away. She had lived into her nineties. She had been a wonderful source of knowledge of the old world, but that final link was now gone. The next oldest in the village was barely sixty. Dama mourned the passing of her grandmother for many months.

It seemed as though it was barely a click of the clock and Nock was about to turn eighteen. Dama had spent the whole week before crying uncontrollably and making vast quantities of Nock’s favorite foods. The box arrived as it always did with a note attached.

Dama,

The box is for your son, Nock. He is to be sent to see your son, Wabe. He is to be on the path no later than seven in the morning. He is to be told nothing else. We will be watching and will know if you have stepped beyond the bounds.

Dama was amazed how each one was worded differently but could still strike such terror in her heart. Ross hadn’t even stayed home last night. He had taken a large jug of apple wine and gone off to spend the night getting drunk with the tanner who had just lost his only daughter the week before. There had been no strip for her and no family was ever willing to talk about what color cape their child was sent.

Dama had fallen asleep and was scared when Nock touched her shoulder.

“Morning, Mom. I expect the box is mine. Who am I being sent to see?”

Dama looked at Nock in fear.

“How did you know the box was for you?”

“Mom, I’ve seen a white box after Wabe was sent to see grandma and another when Mara was sent to see Aunt Lissa. New white box, so it has to be for me.”

Dama was surprised that her son had paid such close attention. She was afraid what else he might have figured out.

“Well give me a moment,” Dama said as she spotted the time. “I’ll pack you a basket of food and drink for your travel and for your brother. He keeps saying he misses my cooking.”

“I already did, Mom. I didn’t want to wake you, since I figured you needed your sleep. Every time one of us goes off you get all weird and don’t sleep.”

Dama smiled at her son. This was going to be harder for her than she thought.

“Well your brother,” she paused trying not to cry. “Your brother sent you a traveling cloak. Wear it so you can stay warm. Remember to stay on the path while you travel. Don’t leave it for anything. Don’t talk to strangers. Ignore everyone till you are safe at your brother’s house.”

“Oh, he has his own place now?”

“No, he is still living with your Grandma Erin.”

Nock laughed as he looked at his mother.

“So, I’m really off to Grandma’s house. Well, maybe I will stay there for a while. I don’t always fit in here,” Nock said sadly.

Dama could only nod.

Nock opened the box and found a beautiful red hooded cape inside.

“Oh, Mom this is really pretty. I’ve never seen a cape this color before.”

Dama’s face drained of all color when she saw the red cape. Grandma Mara had told her long ago there were five capes, but she had only ever explained four of them. She was petrified of what this cape could mean. Dama would have to go to the new village elder to find out what could be in store for her child.

Nock leaned in and kissed his mother goodbye. Even in the fall, the bright red cape stood out and Dama was able to keep sight of her son longer than any of her other children. Once he finally vanished from sight, she ran through the village to the home of the new elder, Micca, where she banged on his door until he finally opened up.

“Dama, what on earth is wrong? I haven’t even had my coffee yet!”

“Please, you have to tell me. What is the meaning of the red cape?”

Micca looked around and quickly ushered her into the house.

“Why are you asking about the capes now? Didn’t your grandmother explain all this to you when you arrived after your ordeal?”

“We got through four of them. She explained the green, brown, and blue to me. I never worried about the red one because I had been wearing white and once she explained it I sort of passed out.”

“The red one is very rare. As far as I know it has only been used three times since the agreement was begun.”

“Please. You have to tell me. Nock received a red cloak.”

Micca looked shocked and that pushed Dama nearly over the edge. She grabbed Micca by the shirt and shook him.

“Tell me already!”

“It signifies a free for all. All three races are free to go after him. It means that some desire mates, others are hungry, but all of them are free to take him for whatever they desire. It all comes down to whether or not your son follows the rules, Dama. For your sake I hope he does.”

Dama collapsed on the floor and was later carried home by Ross who had to have the whole situation explained to him once he woke up from his drunken stupor.