1. Rose

1

Rose

‘Danger hides in beauty and beauty in danger.'

Belva Plain

September 15 th , 2020

Everyone needed a secret.

Especially when you came from a small village like mine, where not much happened beyond the usual everyday activities. Secrets made things fun and interesting. Added a little flavor to life. They didn't have to be big or bad; just something that belonged only to you. Something that could add a little thrill to the mundanity.

My secret was this little berry-picking spot, twenty minutes away from the village center, by the southwestern boundary of our land. It was my own private little world. No one else ever came here. They were too scared of accidentally touching the electrified fence.

I wasn't afraid, because I trusted myself to be careful, and I knew the berries in this spot were the biggest and sweetest from anywhere on our land. There were so many different types too—wineberries, mulberries, blueberries, gooseberries, huckleberries, blackcap raspberries, and wild raisins. They all grew right here, bigger and prouder than the cultivated berries in our valley farmstead.

Perhaps they were enticed by the danger, wild things that they were. Perhaps we had that in common.

The silly thought made me smile as I picked another berry and dropped it in my basket. A chirping sound snapped my attention to the left, and I watched a bird hover close to the fence, wings fluttering like mad.

My smile dropped. "Hey!" I called out. I waved my free hand, trying to scare the bird away. "Shoo!"

Thankfully, it flew away before it touched the humming wire. I breathed a sigh of relief and returned to my berry-picking. The fence was a blessing and a curse. It kept us safe, but that safety came at the expense of innocent animals who inadvertently crossed our path.

To be honest, I still didn't understand much about electricity, but I knew how dangerous it could be in the wrong place or the wrong hands. In the case of Alderwood, the danger was a net benefit despite all the negatives. The fence was very effective at keeping outsiders out, which was why the elders had decided not to eschew that particular form of outside technology as they did with so many others.

I always found that odd when I was a child—the outside world had so many wonders and ever-evolving technologies, so why couldn't we have the same? But my father had explained it to me well enough. Sometimes, the outside world got something right, just like a broken clock is still correct twice a day. That was why we occasionally adopted some of their ways and tools. But overall, the world beyond our sacred land was a dark and dangerous place, just like the woods that surrounded us. It wasn't worth living in a world like that.

Besides, the outsiders needed us to stay here. They didn't even know it, but the work we did here in Alderwood was important. No, beyond important. It was sacrosanct. Without us, the whole world would fall to the Darkness. The people would be lost to plagues, famines, and uncontrollable madness from the chaos-bringers that would be released, and their cities and towns would lie in ruins.

It was too bad they could never know and appreciate the efforts we made to keep them safe. But things were better that way. If they knew the true depths of the evil that lurked beneath the surface, desperate to emerge, they'd be too scared to leave their houses and live their lives.

I knelt and returned my attention to the wineberry bush, softly singing an old Alderwood folk song. "Their flaming torches, high and bright, invited the very darkness they sought to fight. They chased the—"

Another sound snapped my gaze to the fence again. This time it was a scuffing sound. Footsteps.

I slowly rose to my feet, heart pounding. Occasionally, outsiders got lost in the woods and ended up at the fence. Sometimes they even came here on purpose, hoping to talk to a member of the Covenant. Occurrences like that were especially common at this boundary, as it was the closest one to the outsider town of Pinecrest Falls. Our other boundaries bordered on the wilderness, where outsiders rarely ventured.

Our warning signs about the electricity, along with our protection charms, were usually enough to ward off lost hikers. Unfortunately, the outsiders who wanted to talk to us were harder to get rid of. They usually weren't friendly, either. They knew they could never get in, but they wanted to take the time to stand outside and insult us anyway.

I knew why. They thought we were witches. Cultists. Madmen.

Of course, we were nothing of the sort, but I could understand where the belief stemmed from. We followed our own religious doctrine, as laid out by the Entity when he appeared to our founders, and our ways and rituals could certainly seem frightening to outsiders. Especially those who followed no religion of their own. But we were not witches. We did not worship the Darkness. Instead, we sought to contain it in order to protect the world.

We weren't a cult, either. Any member was free to leave the Covenant at any time, if they so chose. But why would anyone ever do that?

Our work was so vital, and our little corner of the world was a miniature paradise, where no one wanted for anything. Who would want to give that up? Certainly not me, and certainly none of the others. In fact, in all the years of our existence, no one had ever left. At least not permanently.

Sometimes, I felt a pang of longing to properly experience the outside world—I'd only ventured beyond the fence once during an urgent situation with my father—but in the end, I knew my place in the Alderwood community was far more important than my own fleeting dreams. The collective mattered far more than the individual. Any thoughts otherwise were selfish and impure.

Impurity was the worst quality a girl like me could possess. It could flip everything on its head, send our whole world crashing down.

A twig snapped somewhere near me, and the scuffing sounds continued, growing louder by the second. I kept my eyes on the woods beyond the fence, heart racing even faster as I waited for the stranger to reveal themselves.

A pale brown deer emerged from behind a tree, sniffing the air. I laughed, feeling silly. Of course. Deer were everywhere in these parts. This poor creature was probably hungry and hoping to inspect the bushes on the Alderwood side in search of food.

I scooped up a handful of wild raisins that I'd picked earlier. Then I stepped closer to the fence and tossed them through one of the gaps between the netted wire. They landed several feet away, in a safe place for the deer to eat.

It stared at me for a long moment, eyes big and soulful. Then it trotted over and quickly ate the raisins before turning tail and vanishing back into the woods. I smiled. Another animal saved from touching the fence. Praise you, Eternal Master.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, committing the deer's face to memory so I could paint it later. Then I opened my eyes and glanced up at the sky, lips twisting in contemplation. It wasn't dark yet, but the sun was sinking low. If I didn't leave soon, I'd wind up walking back to Alderwood in the dark.

Another half-hour would be fine, though. I needed more raisins to replace the ones I gave to the deer, and a few more raspberries couldn't hurt, either.

I stepped back over to the wild raisin shrub near the fence and carefully picked some more of the black, shriveled berries, my nose wrinkling as I worked. The leaves of the plant smelled awful at this time of the year, like sweaty feet, but the raisins were a delicious snack, and they were also one of the secret ingredients in the pies I made that everyone loved.

I glanced up at the sky again. The sun had sunk even lower, and the twilight hour would soon begin.

"Just a few more," I muttered to myself, plucking another raisin. I finally gathered enough and rose to my feet, tucking my basket under my arm.

One of the large bone charms that hung from sticks planted in front of the fence line jangled distantly. My pulse instantly picked back up. A deer couldn't brush against one of those charms as it passed. They weren't tall enough. Most bears weren't tall enough, either.

That meant…

I slowly turned and peered to the left, breaths coming fast and shallow. The shadows cast by the trees made it too dark to see anything properly, but I could hear footsteps crunching over dead leaves and sticks, drawing closer by the second. They were human footsteps this time, loud and heavy enough that they could only come from a large person clad in boots.

If it was the middle of the afternoon, I wouldn't be afraid. I would make the same assumption I made an hour earlier; that it was a wayward hiker. But not this late in the day. Even the outsiders knew to stay out of the wilderness at night.

Evil lurked the woods beyond the borders of our land, often taking the form of a man or woman. Everyone knew that.

The footsteps drew closer, sending a chill down my spine. I didn't wait for another second.

I turned and ran, the darkness closing in behind me.