Ravehaven
The air was filled with the aroma of spice and wild honey.
Eliora was shaping sweet buns in the pastry shop like she had done this a thousand times.
She was glowing, and no matter how hard she tried to hide it, the shimmer of her skin, the delicate line of her jaw, and the brightness in her eyes all attracted attention.
She didn't notice the scarf slipping until her mother did.
"Eliora," Maya snapped. "Your scarf."
Startled, she blinked before pulling the cloth back and hiding the lower half of her face once more.
"I forgot." She mumbled.
"That's what I'm afraid of." Maya said in a tight voice. "You forget things too quickly. It ends when a beast spots you after just one moment of exposure. Do you not understand?"
Eliora's fingers became still in the dough. "Mama."
Her mother's eyes were stern. "In this world, your face is a curse rather than a gift. We could all be killed by a beauty like yours."
As he wrapped fresh bread loaves behind the counter, her father, Jonas, softly said, "Maya. She's not flaunting herself, she is working."
"That's all it takes," Maya snapped. "One of them passes by, one glance through that window, and we lose her. You've heard the stories."
Jonas let out a sigh, "None of us will be saved by fear. Allow her breathe."
Maya didn't respond. She turned away, muttering something they couldn't hear under her breath.
Jonas exhaled and looked at his daughter. "Your mother worries because she loves you. Don't take it to heart."
Eliora managed a small smile. "I know, Papa."
The bell above the door jingled. Old Henrik shuffled in, wrapped in his patched cloak. His nose twitched at the scent. "By the saints, it smells heavenly in here."
Eliora laughed softly and lifted a small bag from the counter. "Here. The honey twists you like. They're warm."
He started fishing for coins, but she shook her head. "Don't. You helped patch the shop roof last spring."
"That was months ago." Henrik said with a frown on his face.
"Then I'm late saying thank you."
His eyes softened. "You are too kind for your own good, Eliora."
When he left, Maya exhaled. "You can't keep giving things away."
"It was one bag," Eliora said. "He's old, and he helped us."
"That's not the point. Kindness draws notice. Kindness won't save you if trouble comes." Maya countered.
Eliora only whispered, "Maybe it'll save someone else."
Jonas hid a smile as he muttered, "That's my girl."
By noon, the little shop was filled with customers, children, farmers, traders, and women with their shawls drawn tight because of the cold. Laughter filled the room. It almost felt safe.
Then the door opened again and two women entered, their faces pale as they whispered to eachother.
"Maya," one said, clutching her cloak. "You've heard about Westmere?"
Maya stilled the knife in her hand. "No. What happened?"
The woman's eyes darted towards Eliora, then back. "They're gone. The beasts burned the whole village this morning."
Eliora gasped. "What? Why?"
"They say Westmere refused the tribute," the second woman said. "The King's soldiers came down at dawn. Fire was everywhere and they took whoever survived to serve in the capital."
Jonas frowned. "That can't be right. Their chief was loyal."
"Loyalty means nothing anymore," the first woman whispered. "Especially with the King the way he is."
Eliora looked up. "What do you mean?"
The women hesitated, then leaned in.
"You've heard the rumors, haven't you? The Beast King is changing. Growing worse."
Maya swallowed. "Worse? That's bad."
"They say the curse is eating at him faster. That he's losing himself." The woman shivered. "If he doesn't find his mate soon, he'll go feral."
Jonas scoffed. "Old stories."
"Not anymore," the woman insisted. "There were sightings last full moon, storms breaking out of nowhere, ground splitting in the mountains. The seers said it's because the King's control is slipping."
"And when he loses control...everyone suffers." the other whispered.
Eliora listened quietly but the moment the King was mentioned, a strange shiver went down her spine.
Her fingers stopped as she was kneading. She frowned, feeling her chest tightening oddly.
Her mother noticed. "El? Are you alright?"
Eliora blinked the sensation away and forced a smile. "Yes, just dizzy. I think I have worked up myself."
But the feeling didn't fade completely.
The women continued. "There's talk about our own chief too, he's been saying we should lower the tributes."
Jonas frowned. "Lower? They already take so little from us. It's the only mercy they've ever given."
"Exactly," the woman said. "And he calls it humiliation, says we should stand tall again. Foolishness."
Maya snorted. "Foolish doesn't cover it. If the beasts find out, they'll do to us what they did to Westmere or worse."
The women nodded grimly. "We should pray he keeps his mouth shut."
When they left, the shop fell quiet again, but the silence wasn't peaceful, it was thick with dread.
Eliora finally spoke. "Do you think they'll come here?"
"Not if the chief keeps his head down," Maya said.
"And if he doesn't?" Eliora asked.
"Then we pray."
Jonas added softly, "And you stay hidden."
Maya reached for a basket. "Here, take this to Mrs. Vera's. Six berry tarts. Deliver it and come straight back."
Jonas frowned. "She can go later."
"It's better while there's light," Maya insisted.
Eliora tied her cloak and pulled her veil tight. "I'll be careful."
"Keep your face covered," Maya pleaded. "Promise me."
"I promise." She replied with a sigh.
The streets of Ravehaven were quiet as it was already late. The town looked peaceful.
Eliora walked quickly, holding her basket close. She passed familiar faces. At a corner, she saw old Mrs. Branna struggling with a bucket.
"Let me help you," She said at once.
"Bless you, dear," Branna breathed with relief.
Once the bucket was carried inside, the old woman touched Eliora's arm. "Kindness is rare now."
"Maybe that's why we shouldn't lose it," Eliora replied.
Branna smiled faintly. "Then may your heart stay protected."
Eliora completed her delivery and headed back. On her way, she heard a faint thunder at first, then the ground trembled.
Hooves of horses.
Eliora turned and saw dozens of riders, cloaked in black, pouring into the village.
Beasts.
People starting to scream. "Run!" someone shouted. "They're here!"
Arrows struck doorposts. Fire started burning.
"No." Eliora whispered.
She ran, dropping her basket. She ran past crying children, past the baker's square, with her heart racing wildly. She turned to her street and froze.
Flames devoured the pastry shop. The roof crackled, collapsing in bursts of sparks.
"Mama!" she screamed. "Papa!"
She tried to run but a big clawed hand seized her arm.
"Stop," a deep voice ordered. A beast soldier with cold grey eyes and an expression like stone.
"Let me go!" she gasped. "My parents, please!"
"Orders are to gather the living."
Another soldier approached, larger with silver streaks in his fur. "Leave her. The house is gone."
"They could still be-" She whimpered.
"Dead," he cut her off. "Move."
The rough hands turned her towards the burning square and her veil slipped.
Her red curls spilled out, looking bright under the moonlight.
The soldier's grip faltered. "By the saints…"
Another murmured, "She's human?"
"Yes, but look at her." the silver one said.
"Red hair," one whispered. "Rare for humans."
"Rare for anyone," the other said.
They stared, not with lust alone but unease.
Her beauty didn't just tempt them, it unnerved them. Her blue eyes, full of fear caught the firelight and for a heartbeat, not one of them moved.
"Cover her," one muttered. "Before the captain sees."
"Why?" Eliora whispered.
The soldier's jaw clenched. "Because you exist, girl. That's enough."
They yanked her scarf back on and forced her to where the other captives were.
Smoke filled the air and flames were still burning behind her.
The last thing she saw of Ravehaven was the sky burning red and she knew then that nothing would ever be the same again.