My new position at work will hopefully give me more free time. The last two years have not been the best for hobbies. A lot of readers have been asking about supporting me, and I've never really cared as I do this for fun. If you want to tip me a cup of coffee or something, the details are in my bio.
I'd like to thank Lastman416 for the edits like always.
--
August was accustomed to beatings, but it didn't mean he was eager to experience them. He was the smallest of the children in his village. The older, larger boys, three brothers each a year apart, targeted him because they could. There was hardly a day August didn't cross their paths. August attended his education in the city of Wurzburg, but his home was a small village to the south along the Mains River. Their village had a small school, but August's father had enough money to enroll him in the city, which required over an hour walk both ways each day. The other boys resented him for that.
The three sons of Hans, the village drunk, were rather horrid children. Their mother had died some years ago from an unknown illness. Hans fell to alcohol and lost any control or discipline over his sons. At first the boys would pickpocket and steal to merely survive as their father wasn't providing for them. Now they did it merely because they found joy and fulfillment in the endeavor. They assaulted the elderly or anyone unable to defend themselves. Families had learned to keep a closer eye on their young girls after the middle son took a maiden into a dark corner and committed an act she was too frightened to speak of.
Each day August would keep his eyes and ears alert to their presence. Sometimes they jumped out of the bushes and tackled him to the ground. Once they even leaped from a tree with branches stretching over the path. Sometimes he saw them first and ran. Most times they caught him and took turns pounding him in the dirt. Today was a day he saw them first, and so he ran.
When the first boy nearly caught him, August turned and threw his books at him. The hard spine connected flush with the boy's nose, giving August precious seconds. He leapt over a bush and took off toward the river. The other boys were in pursuit and pushed him as the bank of the river started, causing August to tumble down the hill. Feet from the river, August tripped as he tried to put his feet beneath him. He was grabbed by his shirt and flung to his back. The first boy jumped on him, allowing the other two to catch up and pin him to the ground.
"Throw him in the river!" the first boy shouted, his nose bloodied from the book.
August squirmed to free himself, but the three boys picked him up and carried him to the water's edge. He pleaded and cried as they began to swing him, counting down from three.
"Three...two...one." They released and dropped him into the water, and laughed as August splashed and struggled to find the edge to stop himself from flowing downstream.
As they laughed one of the boys spotted a girl sitting against a tree reading a book. She wore a green dress and had long flowing black hair that shimmered even in the shade. The boy nudged his brother who turned and saw the girl as well.
"What are you doing out here? All alone?" the first boy said as he started to walk over to her. The girl ignored him and turned the page of the book. "I'm talking to you."
"I'm not talking to you though," the girl replied. The boy cackled and snatched the book from her hands. The girl sighed and looked up at him. "Can you even read?"
"Can you? Wasn't aware they let girls learn."
"Who is they?" the girl asked. The boy laughed and tilted the book toward his face, but it was no longer in his hand. He looked toward his feet, wondering how he dropped it, and looked back at the girl who was reading again.
"How did..." the boy started, before grabbing the book and throwing it into the water. "Girls have no need for books." The girl stood up, flexing her bare toes into the grass. "You think she's bled yet?"
"Old enough to bleed, old enough to breed," another replied and lifted her dress to have a peek. "Who wants to go first?"
The girl slapped his hand from her dress and was backhanded across the face in return.
"Know your place girl. Hold her down, I'm going first."
The boy grabbed her shoulders to force her to the ground. The girl however didn't budge. He grunted as he struggled to push her, his feed sliding backwards across the grass.
"Let her go!" August shouted. One boy laughed as he turned to face him and was greeted with a tree branch against the side of his head. Another boy tried to punch August but a sudden gust of wind took him off balance, making him wobble backwards. August tackled him to the ground and started to punch wildly against his face.
The last boy continued to struggle before the girl stepped to the side, causing him to slip and fall face first into the trunk of the tree. All three boys now blooded, swore vengeance as they fled from August and the girl.
"I could have handled that myself," the girl said and picked up the book before sitting down. "Thank you though. Some men still know their role."
August was confused by many things. Firstly, he could have sworn that the book was thrown into the river. Second, his role?
"Men protect women. That's your role."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm trying to read."
August wished the girl well once more before departing.
The next day he found the girl at the same spot, reading a different book.
"Hello again," August said, leaning over from the side of the trunk.
"Still reading."
The next day he returned.
"My name is August. What's yours?"
"Still reading," the girl replied, turning the page of her new book.
Each day August walked home from school and each day he visited the strange girl who read under a tree by the river.
"Will you tell me your name?" August asked.
The girl lowered the book, annoyed and impressed in equal measure at his tenacity. She looked at the river before turning to him.
"Rivia," she replied.
Each day August visited Rivia, and she said she was reading. Rivia would hear his feet approaching and would sigh in anticipation of his arrival. Each day she would say more words than she had the day prior. Until one day he didn't come. Rivia looked at the position of the sun, and knew he was late. Later than he normally was. She lowered her book, leaning around the tree and only saw the wind blowing on the grass and trees. It irritated her that she had allowed this boy to draw her attention in such a way.
Rivia left the book by the tree and walked to the path she knew he would take to arrive. She didn't see anyone approaching and sat down in the grass on the edge of the path. After an hour she was thoroughly annoyed at his tardiness and made her way down the path. She found him just on the other side of the bend.
August was unconscious, bruised and bloody. Rivia went to her knees next to his face and placed her hand next to his lips. She felt his labored breath, so knew he was alive. The loose dirt around him suggested it was a struggle. As usual, August didn't take his beating willingly and had attempted to fight back. His own knuckles were cut open and bruised. A fresh wound was behind his head, and she tugged a piece of bark from the gash. The boys had struck him with a tree branch.
Rivia drew a circle in the dirt, then a five-pointed star. She sketched symbols on the points. The mother. Water. The horned god. She held her hand over August who was slowly lifted before drifting over the circle and carefully lowered to the Earth. Her hand remained over the pentagram which began to glow. His wounds began to heal as she walked toward his village.
August snapped awake after dark, gasping for air, swinging upwards, the last action he remembered doing before everything went black. No one was with him, and he looked around wondering what had happened. He questioned his own memory, wondering if he had truly been attacked that day. He rose to his feet, and started to walk to his village, the wind blowing the dirt away and hiding the pentagram forever.
August saw black smoke billowing over red and orange light when his village was close. Fire. He started to run. The village had gathered around one home that was entirely engulfed in flame. Villagers were digging trenches around it and running buckets of water to both put out the flame and saturate the neighboring buildings to prevent spread.
"Was anyone inside?" August overhead someone say.
"Yes. Hans and his three boys."
August spent that night watching the flames dance over the charred bodies of his tormentors. As he sat and watched, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. The girl was standing at the corner of a building. Even from a distance he could see the fire's reflection in her eyes which turned to face him. They locked eyes and he started to approach her. For only a moment someone stepped between them, and when they walked past the girl was gone.
August ran down the street, narrowly avoiding several passersby, and arrived at the corner where he saw her. He looked around the other side of the building and saw the flash of her dress and black hair flowing with the wind before disappearing around the next corner. He ran again, only this time didn't see her on the other side. He stepped backwards in confusion, thinking for a moment he only imagined seeing her. When he turned around, she was behind him.
August leaned back in shock but didn't jump or vocalize his surprise.
"Rivia," he finally managed to say.
"August," she replied.
"What happened?" he asked. "I wasn't here when it started."
