Selma waited for the children to settle, then smoothed the blanket and met three pairs of waiting eyes. Each were a different height and color, but all shared the same anticipation.
“Once,” she began, and drew out the word until the littles twitched with anticipation. “Once, there was a woman grievously harmed.”
“Wha’ happ’ned?” Elisee lisped.
“Never you mind,” Jared retorted. He jabbed her with a pointy elbow, for all that she was bigger. “Let Grandma Selma tell the story.”
“It does, however, matter.” She drew a deep breath. “But for the present, it’s enough. You are young, and once every few generations is enough to learn before the time comes. Suffice to say, for now. Grievous harm was done, not just to her body, but to her soul.”
She held a finger to her lips – suddenly, dramatically – as questions clamored in their eyes. “To her soul,” she repeated. “The worst loss in this world is innocence, and that day it shattered.”
“Vigilance,” she continued. “Rare would it be that she would trust again, and always a piece held back.”
“Did she seek revenge?” Jenna had been quiet until now – mostly – but her question cut through the night with clarity.
“Not revenge,” Selma answered solemnly. “Dark fire had burnt out the core of her heart. Instead she sought cold retribution.”
Jared scrunched his face. “I thought that was like…the law.”
Selma’s lips curved, but there was no mirth behind the reminder that the child was well on his way to an academic career. “Oh, but this was a different sort of retribution, my good child. This woman lived in the shadows, spending years steering the visible leaders. And once the system was weaponized against them and they had nothing left…”
“Yes?” prompted Elsee. “She killed them?”
“No.” Rising, she smoothed her skirts. Time enough for the real story, the full story of how their little kingdom had come to be. “She let them live, which was worse.”
She walked away from the puzzled children. Shadows slipped across her face as blood had once run down her cheeks.
It was only after she carefully shut the door to the children’s dormitory that she let the memory flicker into life. She let laughter bubble, eyes unfocused, still gleeful after forty years.
***
Thanks to TA Leederman for the prompt: Dark fire had burnt out the core of her heart.
Mine went to AC Young: Fog shrouded the town each Halloween, concealing…
Don’t forget to see what else the Odd Prompts crew came up with this week, over at More Odds Than Ends!
