Little Red

From her room, she watches the forest filled mountains and ravines surrounding Duvencrune in a rusty yellow color. Autumn is here and her heart calls for adventure, like the leaves waltzing with the wind, she too wants to be free.

‘Come down, sweetheart.’ Calls her father, waiting in front of his shop.

Thinking she has to stand in front of the shop to gather customers with her pretty face, she descends the creaky wooden steps of her house, with resignation taking hold of her heart.

‘Yes, Papa?’ Her eyes are attracted by the mysterious blue light coming from atop the table. Between vegetables and fruits, covered by a thin white cloth, is a basket and the promise of adventure.

She watches her father unfold the thin white cloth, revealing a basket filled with fruits, vegetables and medicine. ‘This year we have been blessed by the fairies, these are the finest products of our farm.’ Says her father with a smile on his face. ‘Take the basket and deliver it to you grandma, Norma Leight, in the Northern Wheat Plantation.’

As the girl touches the basket, the blue light ignites in her hand and at once she feels the magic of the fairies hugging her like a mother hugs her child.

‘I must warn you, the magic within the basket is powerful and will attract the Kagtums, be wary of them, especially the one with the Ash-Halfmoon-Kagtunak, that everyone dreams to have yet few have the chance to get.’ The girl folds her hands and nods as her father smiles and entrust her with the most important quest of the year.

‘Love you, sweetheart.’ Calls her mother from inside the shop, still busy cleaning the dust.

‘Love you too.’ She waves her hand until she sees her parents no more and her feet take her on an autumn adventure.

She’s in front of a junction, a big puddle of water reflects her puzzled face and the sky above. She is lost with only the song of rusty leaves to tell her the way. Her heart pummels with the excitement of what might lay ahead, of what path to choose, left or right?

She closes her eyes, brings out her flute and lets her feet guide her while the air vibrates with her song. Musical notes and rusty leaves waltz with the wind, the birds form an orchestra above her head and the pigs and cows stare mesmerized at the little girl dressed in red as she walks, with eyes closed, into the unknown.

When the birds sing no more and a strong gust of wind billows her dress, she opens her eyes to find herself in the middle of a forest. Golden leaves fall around her, the basket, held firmly by the belt of her dress, is glowing against the rising darkness.

There is no one around, no matter how loud she cries. Again and again, she wipes her tears with the back of her hands only to find more tears coming down, she feels like she is failing her father and her grandma and maybe the wolves will eat her in the autumn forest.

The sound of a cracking twig, the rustle of leaves and the howls of wolves carried by wind from afar, bring fear into her heart. She feels a presence watching her from the shadows, waiting for the darkness to swallow the last rays of light.

As the night draws closer and the last rays of light pierce the canopy of falling golden leaves, the girl reaches for her flute, with shaking hands and trembling lips, she sings against the eyes that watch her from the rising darkness.

Drawn by her song, the spirit of water, air, earth and fire, gather around the little girl encircling her in light and love. The spirits clap their tiny hands, laughing and singing along while guiding the little girl to the edge of the forest, away from the dangers lurking in the darkness.

‘Thank you.’ The spirits wave at the little girl, and one by one they vanish from her sight, leaving the little girl all alone... again.

The little girl feels the change in the air, sees the bones of animals, discarded at the edge of the road and despite all the warnings, she pushes forward for her grandma.

‘I can do this...’ She tells herself as the wind blows the grass around her and golden leaves are blown into the ravines never to be seen again.

When she ends up before two wooden statues adorned with the skulls of animals, she knows she is the den of the Kagtums, the wolves, the ones who want the magic in her basket. She touches the basket, worrying for the worst.

She walks away from the statues, watching from over her shoulder how a glowing red flame boils inside one of the statues and the way the wind blows through the wings attached to the statues that look ready to take flight any moment.

Through uneven stone stairs, she descends hoping to find the way out before the wolves find her. Careful where she steps on the slippery and steep stairs, she looks around for any danger, seeing only dragon heads, carved out of stone, attached on the slope next to the stairs.

Thinking that nothing bad is to befall her, she steps with hurry only to be met with a growl and two mismatched eyes, one purple, the other orange, of the Kagtum, standing before her.

‘Give us the magic.’ Shouts the wolf, spit dribbling down its long mouth and wind blowing his fur.

The girl takes a step back. ‘It’s for my grandma.’ She says and as the wolf opens its mouth, the girl dodges below the massive wolf. The air whizzes as the wolf’s sharp teeth bite into nothing.

The wolf is quick on its feet, its hungry eyes pierce the little girl and the basket dangling against her dress.

Reaching for her flute, the girl starts to sing a shaky song as more wolves come alarmed by the noise and music that charms the spirits.

‘That won’t save you.’ Says the wolf, leaning on its hind legs, ready to tear apart the little girl.

Musical notes float in the air and light entangles the girl, spirits dance and the wolf’s eyes turn heavy with sleep. Without warning, the huge wolf lands with a thud on the ground, next to the little girl, who frightened and protected by the spirits, makes her way out of the wolves’ den.

The road was long and arduous but eventually the little girl reached her destination and beside the moving carts filled with hay and the noise of chickens and moo of cows, she sees her grandma holding pen and paper, never falling in her duties.

‘Grandma.’ Shouts the little girl rushing to hug her grandma.

‘Sweetheart, did you come to see me?’

The girl finds refuge in the arms of her grandma and the familiar scent of roses and tulips. ‘I thought you’re sick.’ The girl reaches for the basket but her grandma has eyes only for the little girl’s face, not sparing a second to kiss her beloved niece.

I hope you did not spam R for this story :P

Awesome! I really enjoyed your writing, and take on Little Red Riding Hood in the world of Black Desert! The screenshots fit perfectly with the story too! :D