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Once upon a time, in a land far from this one, there lived a good king and queen who ruled their kingdom of Loraine fairly. Though the country was small, it hosted a wealth of merchants and its people were prosperous. They loved their king and all rejoiced when the throne’s future was assured with the birth of a son.

All but one.

The jealous younger brother of the king desired the throne, and in secret, plotted to take over. In his ambition, he turned to the dark arts; honing his skills as a sorcerer, and for years he sowed support among the noble families.

One dark, dark moonless night, with hardly a whisper of warning, he and his people took the castle by force. Both the king and queen were assassinated, while the young prince, scarcely into his teens, barely escaped with his life. No one ever saw him again, and those who didn’t think him dead assumed that he had fled the kingdom in exile.

Only the prince and his uncle knew better.
--

It was three years after the coup that day that the sun rose over the forest, its gold light spilling on the tiny village of Chareen. The weather was chilly in the mornings, still so early in the season, but the sky was blue and the air fresh. It promised to be a fine day.

However, Kila hardly had time to appreciate that. Water sloshed to the brim of the bucket she was carrying as she scurried back inside her cabin, splashing both water and apologies about in equal quantities.

“Sorry! The tea will be ready soon, I promise. So sorry, just a few moments…” Hurriedly she poured the liquid into the waiting kettle, spilling some on the fire as well. A cloud of steam bloomed and she coughed, waving her hand in front of her face. Chin in one hand, her brother watched from the table with a rather wry expression.

“Wouldn’t it have been better if you had put the water on before you started breakfast?” he asked, holding back a smirk.

“I was really and I forgot!” she said while wiping up water with a rag.

“Really busy running around, anyway,” he added on.

“Well Ian, maybe you should have woken me up earlier,” Kila huffed, spooning potato hash onto their plates.

“I did,” was the withering reply. “You ignored me and went back to sleep.”

Kila scowled and chose not to reply. Just then, their father strode into the kitchen and stole a piece of the hash off of a plate.

“Wow Kila, it’s delicious. You outdid yourself again,” he said with a smile and she handed him a plate. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Da!” she beamed, shooting a smirk at her brother. Ian muttered something under his breath and reluctantly shoved some of the hash into his mouth. “Will you teach today?” she asked eagerly.

“Yes, we still have some time before spring planting. Before long though, I’ll be going into the city.”

Kila’s face fell, and she turned her attention to the kettle to hide it. Her father was a teacher, and he taught the local children until the planting season began. Then he would travel to the city for months at a time to teach the children of rich families. The money was good, but she would miss him terribly, particularly because it meant living alone with her bossy older brother.

“And you Ian? What will you do today?” his father asked.

“I have to work. Oswin hired me to help him repair his old barn today; I’ll be there until evening.”

His father nodded. “Wonderful. What about your plans Kila?”

Kila bit her lip. “Um… the mushrooms have begun to sprout after all that rain. I thought I’d go pick some in the forest.”

“No you won’t.” Ian said without hesitation. Kila shim an exasperated look.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission, brother. I wasn’t even talking to you.”

“I don’t care. You’re not going. It’s not safe.” His voice absolutely authoritative.

“You took me there all of the time when we were little!”

“A few things have happened in the kingdom since then,” Ian pointed out. “Thieves are starting to hide out there in the woods; I heard it from the other men. You are not going.”

“But I want to! It’s going to be a nice day out, and I don’t want to spend it doing chores inside of the house.” She stuck her lip out in a pout.

Ian looked away. “Da, tell her that she’s not going into the forest.”

“Da, you tell my brother that he can’t tell me what to do!” she said in response.

They both looked at him expectantly. Their father sighed, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “Kila, I think that the water’s begun to boil.”

“Oh no!” She ran over to the water and pulled it off of the burner.

“But in any case,” he continued. “Ian is right Kila. The forest is not very safe these days. I’d feel better if you didn’t go in there.”

“Thank you,” Ian muttered.

“But it can’t do any harm to go looking for mushrooms near the edge. I’m sure if she stays close to the village she’ll be fine,” their father added thoughtfully.

Ian’s head shot up and he looked at his father rather irritated. Kila let out an excited squeal.

“Thank you, Da! I really will stay close and I’ll make sure to be careful,” she gushed.

“I know you will,” he said with a smile.

She couldn’t resist shooting a smug look at Ian when she poured his tea, and he growled unhappily. But as long as their father was home, his word was final. She dreaded his departure to the city.

--

Their father took his leave shortly after breakfast to spend the day in the village schoolhouse. Ian stomped off down the road in the other direction, throwing a few more ‘be careful’s’ over his shoulder before he finally left her in peace. Kila finished her chores with as much speed as she could. She cleaned up the dishes from breakfast and then went out to scatter feed among the hens. Then finally, with a light grip on her basket, she stepped outside into the sunshine. The spring breeze was warm on her face, and with a tuneless song on her lips, she skipped off into the woods.

Kila enjoyed her walks in the forest. No matter what her brother said, she felt that it was a wondrous place, and away from human, she could act however she pleased. Her nonsense song grew louder as she danced between the trees, laughing at how the squirrels ran away in alarm. She daringly unlaced her shirt collar when she became hot. She found the creek where she usually gathered mushrooms and began to scout. A few her and a few there, but she knew that upstream there were bound to be more. Still singing, she walked along the creek bed.

Kila was sixteen and had lived her entire life in the small confines of her village, carrying about each day the same as the one before. She breathed routine, and had no cause to think anything about this day would be different from the rest.

But the simple routine and carefree song died the moment that she saw the men. She stopped short in her skipping.

“Hello,” Kila said politely when the quiet had become awkward. They were staring and something in their eyes made her extremely nervous. “It’s a fine day, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed,” one of them drawled, while his gaze crawled down her body. Kila clutched her basket to her chest and averted her eyes, thoroughly uncomfortable. Her gaze fell upon a few canvas bags just behind his feet, coins spilled onto the grass underneath, and her brother’s words flew through her mind. “Thieves hiding in the forest.”

Maybe this was a bad idea, she thought. Kila took a step back, some insincere ‘excuse me’ forming on her tongue, but she was never given the chance to say it. In a single motion, the other thief bolted forward and closed an iron grip around her wrist, almost yanking her off of her feet. Her basket hit the ground and Kila shrieked. Panicking, she tried to pry his hand away, but her efforts were futile—he was much stronger than she was. He laughed, followed by the other one. Almost casually, he pulled her closer and cupped her breast in his other hand.

Too terrified to do anything else, she screamed as loud as she could. He laughed again, and there was a blur of movement to her left. Something large and brown slammed into her attacker, and his laughter turned into a scream more terrified than her own. Released, Kila stumbled back and fell on her bottom. Paralyzed by fright, she watched the thief hit the earth under the weight of an unexceptionally large wolf. Again the man screamed, hysterically, thrashing and kicking in desperation, but the snarling wolf was too heavy to fight off. Its teeth found the man’s throat and his scream died in a thick gurgle.

Stunned and horrified, his partner grabbed his sword and slashed at the wolf. Too quick for him, the wolf darted off of his prey and circled the man, keeping his distance when the sword swung around to follow. It snarled again and he thief shouted, waving the tip of the blade threateningly to keep it away. The creature continued to circle him, forcing the man to keep turning, but it still couldn’t get close. With a sudden burst of speed it dashed to the side and the thief swung wildly to follow. His weapon bit into the trunk of a tree with a solid thunk. He hardly had the time to realize what happened before he hit the ground and the wolf never gave him time to scream.

Kila still hadn’t moved, huddled on the grass and trembling. Some rational part of her mind knew that she should have run while the wolf was occupied with the thief, but she found herself frozen to the spot in fear. The wolf raised its head and looked at her, blood staining its muzzle.

Her lungs hurt from not breathing. Would death hurt? Would it be quick? Would they ever find her body? For an age she waited, her gaze helplessly locked with the wolf’s, expecting death to leap at any second.

It didn’t. After what seemed forever, the wolf leaped back into the underbrush and disappeared. Kila blinked at the unexpectedness of it, but still didn’t dare breath. Where did it go? She thought blankly. Was it circling around her, preparing to attack from behind? A breeze rustled the tree leaves and her skin prickled. Without moving, she tried to see everything around her. The forest was silent, and save the trickle of the creek, there was no movement.

Gone? She found that she was able to move a foot.

Still watching? She hesitantly twitched the other.

Get out.

Kila pushed herself off of the grass as slowly as a growing flower. Her muscles protested, but she hardly felt the pain, still focusing on breathing as little as possible. Her legs unfolded to a standing position and there was still no attack. She took a small step. No sound, no movement. Another step and then another. Nothing.

She knew that if she walked all the way back home as softly as she could, it would be okay. Clinging to that hope, Kila tiptoed back the way she had come, cringing every time her shoes made a scuffling noise in the dirt. She did well, the quiet forest relaxing her guard. She was going to make it; she was going to get out of there—

A burst of noise in the bushes scattered her thoughts and Kila lost her head completely, bolting along the path with the trees of the forest whisking past her. It just was a pair of squirrels chasing each other up a tree trunk. But she couldn’t stop running and she didn’t dare look back for fear of a giant wolf sprinting behind her.

The trees thinned and her cabin came into view, like a beckoning haven. Lungs burning, skirt flapping madly, Kila pounded to the door and slammed it shut behind her. Only then did she collapse to the floor in sobs, exhausted and terrified. And though there was no sign of any wolf through their tiny window, didn’t dare go outside again for the rest of the day.

--

The afternoon melted into evening, and Kila had decided that she wouldn’t tell her family what happened. Ian would throw a fit and tell her to never go near the forest again, and though the woods terrified her now, the last thing she wanted was for him to know that he’d been right. And it would make her father worry, which he did so much of that already. Resolved, she greeted her family upon their return with an elaborate, well-made stew and a house full of freshly washed linens. Mushrooms? Oh, couldn’t find any. She told them that she would spend the next day working in the garden, and both men seemed satisfied.

But that night when she slept, her dreams were haunted by bloodstained muzzles and sharp white teeth.