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oh, miss believer

my pretty sleeper

As one story begins, typically another story is ending. One light is born and another extinguished, and such is the way of life. At least, that’s how you were taught. You were taught the fundamentals, but chose to ignore them in favor of the real stories. The word of mouth history of your people. Your mother would let you curl in her lap as she recounted the tale at night before bed, a long story about a people who thrived where others would have failed.

your twisted mind

is like snow on the road

The people of Salem had decided to stay, to settle the rough land. But not everyone was welcomed with open arms to the new settlements. There was unrest within the small encampments at first, a restlessness that began to brew between the settlers and the caravaners who had traveled so long and found new land. The caravaners, in order to avoid further problems, decided to take their familiars and their belongings and leave the camp to travel the newfound land. While many would call them “gypsies” the caravaners would grow to resent this term, and would prefer the less offensive term “roamers” that were later adopted by civilization as it expanded and grew.[break][break]

Generations of children were born and thrived on the harsh environment, and because the roamers were an open people they accepted those from growing cities who wished to join them. Though the more time wore on their numbers began to fade and soon as civilization boomed around them, they felt that they were a dying race. So they vanished into the sand dunes and people didn’t see them except for the occasional glance for years after, and soon their memory was mere story.[break][break]

In reality the roamers with their quiet hard working familiars and their red cloaks had retreated to their own makeshift towns, filled with tents and campfires, in order to bring peace and prosperity to their community. Internal struggle had brought much hardship to their people and they prayed to their deities for protection, and their prayers were answered in the form of a far off oasis miles and miles away from the nearest town. They lived there for years while the world around them changed and formed into something new, something raw, something dangerous. They avoided the hardships of the modern man and lived simply, thriving.

your shaking shoulders

prove that it’s colder

The caravaners liked to refer to themselves as the "red cloaks" considering they wore a series of lightweight red cloaks that covered their entire bodies to protect themselves from the sun and heat. They were a playful people who stayed as far from society as possible believing they were cursed due to the rumors on the wind about the wars they waged. But they got curious, and curiosity had become their vice. They started to venture out three children each year upon their eighteenth summer to travel to civilization to trade with, lovely glass items that their generations of fire and light elementals had helped create. Their business suddenly boomed and years were spent with their society prospering and more children running off to join in the trade business, regaining their reputation as caravaners. [break][break]

Then tragedy struck. [break][break]

Amidst the travel monsters attacked one of the caravans, and a young man was killed. Suddenly unease and unrest dispersed among the red cloaks, and they stopped all travel immediately. They hoarded their remaining wealth carefully and regressed back into their solitary ways.

inside your head

than the winter of dead

For a long time, you were a walking enigma. You were born the last and only girl of nine, eight older brothers to back you up. It was a merciless household. You were born and raised as a red cloak in a society that did not have modern amenities. You bathed in a tub and lived on a predominantly vegetarian diet. You were born sickly, not sickly enough to be too concerned but often falling ill as a child. You had a weak immune system that proved the "a little dirt never killed anyone" theory wrong, considering you were falling ill more often than not. Still, you were a bright and happy child if not a bit snarky and you were beloved by the community who watched over you like one large extended family. Your mother was constantly worried sick about you, but your father assured her that you were going to be alright, grow into a strong independent young woman one day. [break][break]

You always believed in it. You were tough, you could do anything you put your mind to. But what you wanted more than anything was to travel, was to go outside the boundaries of the small community they had built for themselves out of tents and campfires, and to explore the desert and its mysteries. You wanted to develop your magic, and visit modern society and it's wonders that you’d heard from your older brothers whispering stories in your ears before bed. You wanted this and more, but the community elders had strictly forbidden the travel of any youngsters from the camp anymore after the "great incident" several years before your birth. [break][break]

They couldn't afford to lose anyone else.[break][break]

Between the sun rashes and the flu, the colds and the walking pneumonia you were easily victim to, you were a strong girl. Stronger than most of the community members around you, most would agree. You had a fire within you that wasn't easy to extinguish and you wouldn't allow anyone to bring you down, which is why on the summer of your sixteenth birthday you snuck out of the camp and went on a little adventure with one of your older brothers.

i will tell you, that i love you

but the muffs on your ears, will cater your fears

You found nothing but trouble in the desert that night, and was found by a search party in the morning. You nearly caught your death but even worse you were attacked by a traveling horde of monsters while all alone, and it took you over a year to fully recover. With a nasty scar lining down the center of your spine you were not punished, for the punishment of humiliation and illness was enough on your now fragile ego to hopefully keep you in line. [break][break]

This wouldn't stop you. [break][break]

Unfortunately, this would only make you want to leave more. Had you been more prepared you wouldn't have been attacked, and you knew that now. The spring of your eighteenth birthday you begged the elders to reinstate the old rules, the old routes that had allowed them to travel to modern civilization. They hesitated because of what happened, but the spark within you would not be contained. They relented, and suddenly....you were free.[break][break]

You were free.