In the days when the stones still carried the names of the dead, the men of the village took up axes and prayer and went to the ruins where the evil had begun to breath. They went in pairs, then in threes, then one at a time. Each departure announced as the one that would set things right but none returned. Until at last a woman came limping out beneath a torn sky, her cloak in rags and her eyes fixed on something far behind her. “They are there!she shouted, “but not as they were!In the shattered halls the missing walked again... gaunt, bewildered, wearing the faces of our husbands and our brothers like ill fitting masks. And when they bit, a strange blight took hold, not killing outright but stealing of their soul leaving only hunger and confusion. The messenger showed the bite on her arm and waited for the village to cast her out. Yet day after day passed and she did not change. The elders fell quiet and the taverns passed stories around of the great evil upon them like a riddle.

Upon hearing it, Victoria rose, as if the answer had been sitting in her bones all along. “If the curse can be resisted by a womanshe said “then it can end by a woman.She bound her hair, tightened her leathers, and took up her axe and blade. The old steel that had outlived three owners and still held an honest edge.

She did not boast, nor did she go to shame the fallen, she went to give peace to what had been stolen.

And if the village spoke of her womanhood as a shield, Victoria spoke of it as something simpler... a vow. She would walk into the ruin where the men had failed and she would bring them rest in mercy and by courage when no one else will step forward.

NOTES:----------
NO AI, but edits done in Google Snapseed, Affinity Photoi

This was posted to DAZ3D.com in February of this year. Many images, made it to the Daz Gallery but not here.