The Day My Enemy Became My Ally

The next morning, Mia was ripped from her sleep by the rough grip of angry hands. The door to her cottage had been kicked open, splinters still hanging from the frame as furious villagers stormed in. Before she could even sit up, they dragged her from her bed.

"What—? What’s going on?!"

They didn’t answer. She stumbled as they pulled her outside, barefoot, her nightdress fluttering in the early morning wind. The sun had barely risen, casting a pale, gray light over the village as she was marched through the streets. Shouts echoed from every corner. People gathered like vultures. Then, they slammed her into the stone wall of the Atrium. Pain exploded in her head, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. Her knees buckled beneath her.

Through the haze, she heard a familiar voice. Her father.

"Stop! Don’t touch her! What are you doing to my daughter?"

He rushed into the square, pushing through the crowd, but several villagers tackled him to the ground before he could reach her.

"Take him away!"

"Papa!" Mia screamed. But they dragged him off in irons.

"He’ll be held until midday tomorrow," one of the guards muttered coldly.

She clenched her teeth, lifted her head, and yelled:

"May I know what in the devil is happening?!"

Her voice echoed across the square, but it barely rose above the noise.

A tall man stepped forward, face hardened like stone.

"Don't pretend to be innocent. You know exactly what happened last night."

Mia's breathing quickened. Her vision slowly sharpened.

Brave Ice Rose.

Her horse. Being dragged through the square by two men. The mare’s legs wobbled, her reins pulled tight, her silver mane tangled and dirty. Her hooves scraped against the stone, and her dark eyes darted around in confusion.

"No! Rose!" Mia cried. "Let her go! I don’t know what this is about, but you have no right to lay a hand on my horse without my permission!"

A sneer rose from the crowd.

"Oh? Just like you had permission to poison your comrades' horses?"

Mia’s eyes widened. "What are you talking about?!"

"You think we're just going to ignore your pathetic crime?" one of the villagers snarled, stepping closer. "Last night, every single horse in the village dropped dead, except yours. What a convenient little miracle, huh?"

The words hit Mia like a slap. Her throat tightened.

"What?!" she gasped. "That’s—That’s an absolute lie! I didn’t do anything!"

Then an old woman raised her pitchy voice.

"Everyone knows you're not interested in settling down. You refuse to marry. You refuse to even try to form a family like the rest of us. It's your duty as a woman, but you keep ignoring it."

Mia’s hands clenched against the ropes.

"What does that have to do with—"

"You never join the festivals. You never talk to us. You keep to yourself, always out in the fields with that cursed horse of yours. What kind of life is that?"

The crowd stirred. Whispers turned to muttering.

"You isolate yourself. You ride through the meadows alone, day and night, like the rules don’t apply to you. You keep breaking curfew, and we’re expected to look the other way, just because of who your father is."

A guard stepped forward.

"We’ve been watching you, Mia," he said. "Studying your behavior."

Mia 's eyes widened.

"Studying… me?"

"You speak to that horse like it understands every word, like it’s more than an animal. And the way you ride… it’s unnatural for a man. It’s as if the horse is bewitched by... like an enchanted puppet, and you its puppeteer."

"No one knows how you do it. No one sees how you train it. You disappear for hours, riding off where only God knows; and ever since you started, strange things have begun happening."

"The wolves—" another man intervened, his voice trembling slightly. "They’ve grown bolder. They come closer to the village now, as if they’re hunting you… or following your scent."

"Perhaps she was leading them all along… It wouldn’t be hard for her, especially as a Nightwatcher. That title gave her the perfect cover: all she had to do was play pretend, act the loyal guardian… while walking freely among the wolves…Think about it. She clearly shares some uncanny bond with her mount. If she can speak to a horse, why wouldn’t she know the tongue of wolves?"

"And now this new illness…"

The murmurs grew louder.

"She always wore those silver charms around her neck…"

"I saw her with herbs. She said they were for medicine, but maybe they were for curses."

"Perhaps she feeds her horse those herbs," someone muttered from the crowd, "so they can speak the same language."

"And look at her hair! As if God dyed it red on purpose, so we could put the pieces together! It’s a warning written across her head!"

"Red as blood, red as flame. No righteous soul is born with that color. It’s the color of betrayal… the color of fire, and death!"

The crowd murmured in agreement, growing louder, more vicious.

Mia’s shoulders shook. Her voice, when it came, cracked under the weight of panic and defiance.

"No… No, you’re all wrong!" she cried, shaking her head. "I’m not… I know I keep to myself, I know I should’ve tried harder to be part of this village. I’m not perfect. But this… this story you’re spinning… it’s all lies. Lies to fit the twisted narrative someone crafted! I swear I didn’t poison the horses. I would never do something so cruel. Someone else did it, and now they’re hiding behind my reputation!

She took a breath, trembling, eyes wide.

"You don’t want the truth. You want a villain for the cause of all the misery that is happening now. I… I… was…. just convenient. I am a victim! I…"

"It’s enough! We have heard enough from the lips of a witch."

The word stopped the world cold.

Someone finally said it.

"A victim! Ha! Said the witch."

And then the mob erupted.

"Burn her!"

"We should’ve known!"

“Silence!” the preacher’s voice thundered as he finally stepped forward. For a fleeting moment, Mia's heart dared to hope… But when he spoke, his words shattered her world like glass.

“It is decided. At dawn tomorrow, Mia Hansen shall burn, right here, before the eyes of the righteous. She will burn in flames as red as her wicked hair… just as God intended. Let this be an example for everyone to know what is the destiny of a witch! We ought to be proud! We’ve hunted many wolves in these woods… but tomorrow, we cast down our greatest prey: a wolf in lamb’s clothing.”

A wolf in a lamb’s skin…!

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

When Mia finally opened her eyes, night had already fallen. The first thing she noticed was the cold snow piled in her lap.However, she didn’t feel the chill. After being stoned for so long, her body had grown numb—she barely felt anything anymore. In fact, her limbs felt strangely light, as if she were ready for an angel to descend and carry her gently into the afterlife. The only weight she still bore was the heaviness in her chest. Every time she thought of her father and Brave Ice Rose, tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. She could feel the salt on her tongue, mixing with the metallic tang of blood from her wounds.

Her last meal.

It was just before dawn, and the village lay still, everyone still asleep. More tears streamed silently down her face, fueled by a fragile hope that perhaps, if God were watching in that quiet moment, He would see her as the innocent soul she truly was. But something rough and moisty on her cheek interrupted her quiet meditation.

“What in the—”

A wolf stood right in front of her.

Mia would have screamed, if she still had any strength left in her lungs. But that had been spent hours ago. Besides, the sight before her froze her in place.

The wolf was enormous, easily twice the size of any she had ever seen. Its fur was a deep, vivid red, bright enough to be seen even in the dark. And its eyes... enormous and golden-yellow. Mia found herself caught in them, staring too long, trying to understand how it was possible for Mother Nature to create such beauty. The longer she looked, the more it felt like falling into a bottomless well, where she arrived in a new world. That wolf certainly didn't live in the woods. Her institution, somehow, sensed it.

So long caught in a trance, Mia hadn’t even noticed when the ropes around her wrists and ankles came loose. Somehow, the wolf had freed her. Then it stepped forward and gently nudged her with its wet nose. Its ears were laid flat, in submission. Like a dog trapped in the body of a beast.

“Why...?” Mia whispered, barely audible.

The creature lowered itself to the ground, silently inviting her to climb onto its back. She hesitated. It was madness. But...

The sun was rising. Any minute now, the villagers would awaken. They’d drag her to the pyre. They’d light the flames.

The wolf tapped its paw against the earth, impatient.

“Perhaps I’ve gone mad,” Mia muttered. “But I’m going with you.” She looked up at the sky. “If I stay here, I will die anyway... So take me. Please. There’s nothing left to lose… Please... get me out of this hell.”

She wrapped her arms around the wolf’s thick neck like a lost child clinging to a mother. The beast stood still and silent. It didn’t growl and didn’t flinch. Mia buried her face in its fur and whispered:
“I hate my life so much… I hate the rules. I hate the cold. I hate the people…I hate the world. So, so, so… much…”

And just like a saint answering a prayer, the wolf moved.

It carried her away into the woods.

As they rode deeper into the trees, Mia noticed something strange: no matter how far they ran, the moon kept following them.

With that quiet realization, she let her exhaustion take over...

...and fell asleep on the wolf’s back.