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Abigail Of The Woods was a harsh creature. She toiled, hunting beasts bigger than herself,and rarely interacted with people. She only came in the local town to sell furs and buy needed supplies before vanishing back to her cabin. Abigail was a hermit, no better words described her.
Yet there was something different about Abigail. When she walked in a room, people took notice of the shadow of a girl with a hard stare that made even the toughest men squirm. Abigail was no ordinary hermit, she walked out of the mountains, carrying bear pelts three times her own size. The baker’s wife claimed she saw Abigail walking with wolves when she made her way to town. “That one is blessed by the gods. Don’t cross her,” The locals whispered as she dragged her wares in town. This rang the bell of truth when Abigail slayed the Wayward Beast and won herself a wife.
Without meaning to, she made herself a legend, a goddess among men. But all goddess have to start somewhere and Abigail’s started start in a country called Allesey, far from the mountains she grew her fame.
Before she was known for her skill, Abigail was known for her beauty. Hair darker than a sinner’s soul and eyes carved from onyx, her skin was fine parchment if not for the freckles that covered it. Her poor parents rejoiced, knowing their daughter would marry well, a prince with any luck. Instead of being doomed to poverty, their daughter would wear silk dresses with soft dogs sitting at her feet, a tarnished crown atop her head. Her fate tied to neglant husbands, children she never know, and the titters of treacherous ladies and drinking lords, if you asked Abigail.
If there was anyone to blame for her spirit, then blame the brothers. Before being blessed with a crown jewel, their parents had a gaggle of boys, four to be exact. These boys saw the greed in their parents eyes as their sister grew. None of their brothers were keen on the idea of their sister being married off to better the rest of them. It just seemed too cruel.
It was her brothers that taught Abigail how to handle herself in the woods, teaching her secrets passed down by their forefathers, ones they taught their sons but not daughters. Even after they’d grown, all four lingered, keeping protective eyes on their sister. Most men stayed away from Abigail but princes were another matter. You couldn’t say no to princes.
Prince Asher was like most princes, charming and handsome. Abigail didn’t say a word as her parents eat out of the palm of the prince, their eyes green with greed. She watched as they sold her to a man who wanted her, as if she was a horse on the auction block. Her stomach was rolling, her knees shaking. Matthew, the third son, had a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her. It didn’t.
The weeks leading up to the wedding was a blur of dress fittings, gossip, and the plans for the family to move into one of the King’s estates. People chatted on where the couple might honeymoon or how long until Abigail gave her husband an heir. All the chitter chatter made her skin crawl, her hands trembling as she was dolled up for the big day. The maids just placed the veil on her head when a messenger came in, saying that Noah, the fourth brother, wanted to see his sister - alone. Abigail was glad to leave the stuffy room with maids trying to cover up how pale she was and how terrified she was as if she was going to the gallows and not the altar.
Noah was waiting, his hands gripping the reins of their fathers wagon, the back full of fresh hay. The door shut quietly with no more of a soft click. She stared at him and he stared back, their dark eyes reflecting each other. “Get in,” he told her as Abigail stepped passed the threshold. “Unless you
want
to marry him?”
Abigail gave her brother a hard look, her eyes alight with fire. “I love no man,”
“Not even your brothers?”
“You don’t count,” She climbed into the back of the wagon and covered herself in hay until she vanished completely. Once he was sure no one had seen, he hitched the reigns and the horses slowly started pulling them away from the house. Under the hay, the loveless bride squeezed her onyx eyes shut. She prayed, the first time in many weeks, to the forest gods that they might go unnoticed and the chain around her legs might finally loosen enough for her to slip free.
She was unsure of how long or how far they travelled but when Noah signaled it was safe, the stars were glittering in the sky above. She admired them as she twirled around, shaking the hay from her dress. “Abigail,” called Declan, the first son. She turned to see all four brothers gathered around a fire, waiting, their faces were in the shadows, the fire dancing across their faces. If they were not her brothers, Abigail might have thought them demons. He pressed a bundle of clothes in her hand. “Change.”
She stepped into the woods, changed into the simple clothes she wore when they went hunting and came back carrying her wedding gown and veil in hand. “Do you want to keep it-” The second brother, Ronan, began but never finished as Abigail tossed the dress in the fire and watched it burn. “Guess that’s a no, then…” The siblings settled by the fire. Noah passed out some food and they ate in silence. When that was done, they prepared their sister.
“They will look for you,” Matthew warned as he helped strap her bags to the horse, bags full of food, weapons, and everything she’d need to survive.
“I know,”
Ronan handed her bow, “They will hunt you far,”
“I know,” She might never see her brothers again. Never enter Allesey, unless she had a death wish. Her brothers would have to scatter to the winds, as who else would save their sister in her hour of need?
“Be safe,” said Declan as she mounted the horse, ready at last to journey long and far to escape this marriage.
“Be brave,” said Ronan, handing her a cherished knife. It went in her boot, tucked close where she could grab it.
“Be happy,” Matthew said, looking at her with hopeful eyes.
“Stay alive,” Noah said as she tugged at the reins and urged the horse into a gallop. She didn’t mean to but she turned slightly, watching the four brothers who loved her more than anyone. They grew smaller until finally they were blurs. Then Abigail turned her head and rode as if Hell opened its gates behind her.
Abigail’s home was all fields and rolling hills, she left all of this behind. With time, she made her way across the border of Allesey. After two years of travelling, Abigail found a place where she could truly disappear, where the whispers of the runaway bride of Prince Asher would never touch her. The Stagcress Mountains was a two years journey from Allesey. She settled in town first before going deep in the woods and building herself a cabin. There she stayed for most of her days, unnoticed until the men of Stagcress Mountains decided that
finally
something must be done about the Wayward Beast.