She lie stripped bare in tall grass. Dew drops surround strands of dark black hair and cold wind fondles her porcelain skin.
A bruised and bloody hand reaches out to touch the small white flowers that sway in front of her. Her nails come into her focus. The blood and dirt caked underneath causes her last meal of scraps of bread to rise in her throat. A burning enters as she tries to swallow it.
Her hands return to her own body, feeling the deep scratches, soon to be scars, underneath her fingertips. A tear escapes from her blue eyes as she lay her head back on the grass. The coldness of the forest floor chills the back of her neck causing the hairs to stand up on her arms.
A faint sound of hooves comes from the West and she remembers that black horse that led the stranger into her village. His appearance shielded in all grey. A warrior, she supposed, but not a noble one.
She sat up quickly, hugging her bare chest with her arms. Her eyes shifted searching for that black horse. Deep down she knew he wouldn’t come back. All was destroyed, and for all he knew she was, too.
Maybe she was destroyed. Only time would tell.
Her knees wobbled as she stood. Silently, she dusted herself off and ventured back to her home. Nothing remained for her to find.
Dust filled the air as her feet trudged though the ashes left behind. A glimmer caught her eye and she quickly turned towards it. As she walked closer, a familiar locket filled her vision. She stooped to pick it up and rolled it in her palms.
She snapped the locket open to see pictures of her siblings and herself. The corners of her lips turned up into a slight smile. Her heart warmed at the sight of them. She closed the locket once more and placed it around her neck. It shown bright against the rumble around her and the dirt that smeared her skin.
For all her days, that locket shown bright gold around her.