Chapter 2: Women of Chaos

Wrenley

Her heart thundered loudly in her chest. This was real. She walked through the door into a fairy tale. It no longer mattered that this wasn’t her fairy tale because she was here now. She no longer existed in the Outside.

And there was no way out.

Wrenley stared at the place where the door should have been. Where it vanished from the bottom left corner to the top right, as if it were being erased. Leaving nothing behind as if it had never existed.

Slowly, she turned back around but everywhere she looked, it was the same scene. Blood. Everywhere.

She swallowed and looked down at her clothes. At least they looked appropriate for the woods. She hadn’t had to change much about them since so much of Snow White had been in the woods, too. But then, that story had been erasing itself page by page. This one was fully intact, but out of control with toxicity. Did that count as intact?

“Okay,” she murmured, patting her shoulders where the straps of her backpack were. She’d put a whole lot of time and effort into this one article. There were the straps that went over her shoulders but also one at her waist to help with the load and one across the top of her chest, holding the straps together.

But the best feature was what she’d spent a pretty penny for in knowledge from a couple of the older Fixers - those who had been there a really long time and still hadn’t moved on yet. Those who seemed to just gather information. She paid for the symbols to be sewn in, ones that would lighten her load to almost nothing regardless of what she put in it, and make it nearly vanish from sight on her back.

She’d had many reasonable justifications for paying so much. First, if she was primarily going to be traipsing through the forest, she’d likely have to defend herself at some point. That would be easiest to do without something of great weight and bulk hindering her. But she didn’t want to drop it and risk that it might be taken. Or get ruined. Or she’d be run off while she tried to defend herself and lose it.

At least that money had worked out for this fairy tale, too.

The only thing she’d added in weapons to this one was a crossbow and a quiver of arrows that continuously restocked. The knife on her thigh and sword slung across her back were from Snow White preparation. But bears… without the use of a firearm, she needed to be able to defend herself at a greater distance from something a great deal bigger than her. Since ‘advancements’ weren’t allowed into the story, she’d done a lot of research and a crossbow had been approved by the Operators.

Once she made sure she had everything in order that she’d wanted, Wrenley looked back up to the trees around her and made a slow, steady circle to study the forest. There was nothing distinguishing one way from another. Furthermore, she couldn’t determine where the blood had come from.

Was it the site of a massacre? If so, there were no body parts that she could find.

Or was the forest itself bleeding? It was a story, so it could do that, right?

Since standing there wasn’t getting her anywhere, Wrenley chose a direction at random and started carefully picking her way through the trees. She was careful not to touch anything and keep her feet from the bloody puddles as much as she could.

It wasn’t long before she stumbled across a path. Again, she couldn’t see how one way looked more promising than the other, so she went left since that had been the general direction she was headed. The path wasn’t as blood sodden, but it was still bloody. And it went on forever.

She’d been so bored with it all that the path ending at the same time the blood did took her by surprise. When she looked back, she found that the blood had been thinning for a while. But… why would the path just end? What was she supposed to do now?

“There should be a cabin in the woods,” she said to herself. A cabin would be great. And if it was filled with bears? Well, they were the main characters in the story, anyway.

Since she’d already walked in this direction for as long as she had, Wrenley continued on regardless of the lack of path. She still considered herself in the forest, but it wasn’t nearly as dense anymore.

As the sun was setting, the trees around her started to thin further. As dusk fell upon the woods, she finally spotted something that promised signs of life. There was smoke in the distance.

There was no question that she was going towards it. Finding someone living was mandatory. Anyone at this point. And she was willing to bet whoever lived in this story had an idea of what broke it.

But as she approached and their chatter met her ears, Wrenley slowed. There was a chance they were hostile. One of the advanced courses she’d taken at DeadEnd was learning how to move stealthily so that she could observe and survive. It seemed wise if she was entering a fairy tale that took place within a forest.

There had been that huntsman to consider. And one couldn’t forget the wicked queen.

And now, there were bears to think about. Because, really, it didn’t matter if Goldilocks’ actions had been the moral of the story. The fact of the matter was, bears were dangerous.

When the group came into view, she found that it was mostly women gathered around a campfire. There were three tents set up and the aroma of the meat they were grilling made her stomach roll. She hadn’t noticed she was hungry until the hunger pains kicked in.

They were dressed in furs and leather by the looks of it. Tall boots that reached their knees with straps and fur lining. Their bottoms were more like spanks made of suede, but they had various furs, leathers, or decorated pieces of fabric wrapped around their backsides and hips. The front had a bright colored cloth tucked in, hanging in front like one might a towel. They were mostly reds and blues, but there was a purple and a silver one, too.

Most of them had something like a sports bra on the top and something hanging from their shoulders. Again, furs or suede or such. Many had medallions around their necks, marks on their skin that stood out against the fading sun and firelight. There were also lengths of leather straps wrapped around wrists and forearms and biceps.

They had different markings on their faces, paint that clearly meant something in the design. Some even sported claws hanging on the cord with their medallions and feathers from their hair.

And all had a very long sword sheathed close by, be they sitting or standing.

They talked merrily, laughing and discussing something she couldn’t quite make out.

There were only five of them, two of which were men. Their dressings weren’t all that different except that they wore pants without the furs around their waists. And their hair was shorter.

Chancing hostility, Wrenley stepped out from within the shrubbery she’d positioned herself within and into the firelight.

They saw her immediately and paused, many hands going to their blades.

“Hello,” Wrenley said. “I’m looking for some help.”

“What kind of help?” one of the girls said.

She wasn’t old. Not more than thirty and only by way of maturity in her facial features. She had a body that women of the Outside would kill for. Fit and lean but shapely. And now that she’d gotten closer, though they dressed alike, she could see that their basic features were all vastly different. As if they were a melting pot of cultures.

“I’m looking for the nearest town,” Wrenley said. Civilization seemed like a good enough start.

“That would be Bear Tower Heights but I’m not sure you want to go there,” the girl said.

“It’s run by tyrants,” one of the men said.

“Most of the villages are,” another girl said.

That sounded just lovely. Wrenley sighed. “Maybe you can help me, instead?”

“With what?” the first girl asked.

“I’m trying to find someone who can tell me what happened to make the forest bloody. And hoping that someone knows how I can fix it.”

The group exchanged looks. Either they knew or they weren’t sure what to make of her. Maybe the forest had always been bloody.

“Have a seat,” the first girl said. “My name is Berra.”

“I’m Wrenley,” she returned.

Berra nodded before gesturing with her head to the man next to her and then along around the fire. “Wilder, Elliot, Elita, and Honey.”

Wilder and Honey were the men. Wrenley smiled. Before anyone could speak further, one of the tent flaps opened and two more joined them. Another man and woman.

The woman had golden blonde locks and these incredibly beautiful blue eyes. She was dressed just like the others, as was the man. The man had long, long hair. Longer than she’d ever seen on anyone. It was tied back with lengths of leather until it got to the end where it was curled up like a lasso and hung from his belt at his left hip.

“Where did you come from?” the girl asked, pausing at the edge of the group.

“The Outside,” Wrenley said.

It was clear they didn’t know what to make of this. She was willing to guess they had no idea it meant outside the story. Something told her not to elaborate much more on it. So, when she followed it up, she told them a half truth. “Outside the bloody forest.” Okay, that was the whole truth, even if she meant it in a different way than they’d understand it to mean.

“Are you a rejected?” the new girl asked.

It was a fifty-fifty chance they’d wanted her to be. On a whim, she nodded. They were all so different in features that it seemed likely that perhaps their common underlayer was rejection. Not that she had any idea what that meant.

But it had been the right answer. The group accepted it without question and visibly relaxed. Their hands falling away from their weapons.

“I thought so,” the new girl said. “You have that look about you.”

“What look is that?” Wrenley asked.

“Forlorn. Miserable. Irritated. Like you’d been wronged, and you don’t have the power to convince anyone to see differently. Most of all angry. And yet, resigned because you know you cannot change anything.”

Well, this girl just pegged her exactly how she was feeling!

“Yea,” Wrenley said quietly. “Exactly all that. I’m a little surprised you nailed it so precisely.”

“We’ve all been there,” she said, taking a seat. The man took one next to her. “That’s what brings us together. That’s what spurns our mission. I’m Aurelia. This is Zel.” She indicated the man next to her.

“Wrenley,” she said, nodding. “They were telling me that the nearest town is filled with tyrants.”

Aurelia snorted. “It’s filled with demons, cruel and heartless,” she said. “Bears.”

Not sure which part, if any, she was supposed to take literally, Wrenley nodded. Were they demons or bears? Could they be both? Or was this a figure of speech.

“Meat is ready,” the man, Wilder, said. For the next several minutes, the little camp came together to break up the meat and divvy out food. There was bread and broth to go with the meet, as well as some root vegetables that had been within the coals cooking that Wrenley hadn’t seen. There were also canteens of water that they shared around.

When they all sat back to eat, one of the women, Elita, told Wrenley the story of the bears.

“Many generations ago, the skies looked down upon this peaceful wild land and thought it should be filled with life. It granted the many spirits likeness of themselves. The beaver and fish, the birds and deer. And the apex predator, the bears.”

“The spirits had such different sides to them, that they didn’t just make one type but many. And in this land, the bear spirit made five races. The beautiful giant pandas of the Indigo. The sleepy, but brutish Kodiaks of the Kodiac. No, not very cleverly named, that one. The silly, happy sloths of Denali. The smaller white kermode’s of Creek. And the mighty, protective grizzlies of Aspen.”

“The bears ruled the lands, keeping the deer and fish populations from exploding while not overpopulating the lands themselves since their gestations were long and trying. The sky enjoyed looking down over the busy land, crawling with beautiful animals and vegetation.”

“But as the sky aged and turned sleepy, the animals changed. And the bears became demons. No longer keeping to old tradition and turning anyone away who isn’t exactly what they want. Choice wasn’t an option at one point because the sky knew best. But the bears, they no longer worshiped the sky and challenged its providence. They became cruel and heartless, shunning anyone on a whim and turning them out of their own clans.”

“The only thing worse was their cruelty was their savagery. It wasn’t enough to turn their own away when not to their liking, but they became tyrants over other species. Over those they turned away. Leaving bloody bodies wherever they roamed. And this is the world we live in, now.”

Wrenley had listened raptly as she meticulously ate through her meal with slow, measured bites so she could listen carefully. By the end of the story, she had to wonder if it was the bears that broke the story somehow. And yet, she didn’t hear mention of Goldilocks anywhere.

“We’re the result of such rejections,” Honey said.

“My rejection was a little…. Different,” Wrenley admitted. “So, I appreciate you telling me the story of yours.”

“You’re not from the bear clans,” Aurelia said. “I could see that right away. You don’t have the furs that tell of your bloodline and depict which clan you’re from.”

Wrenley shook her head. “No, I’m not. As I said, I’m from Outside the clans. But I can relate to your story all the same. I think on some level, a rejection is a rejection, even if it happens in a different way.”

The group nodded and she could see how thoroughly they agreed with her words. They felt it, felt the truth in them. Felt it resonate with their own situations as she did theirs.

“Zel’s story is a little different, too. He’s not from the clans either,” Aurelia said.

Zel shook his head. “I’m not from here at all. My mother wanted me to disappear from life,” he said, his voice deep and rich. Wrenley was sure he had a beautiful singing voice. “Keep me hidden and never see another soul. I ran as far as I could to escape her reach. I’m not technically rejected but I’m as resentful and angry as the Women of Chaos.”

Wrenley looked around at them. Women of Chaos. Is that what they call themselves?

“You said you had a mission,” Wrenley said. “What is it?”

“To rid this story of the cruel bears who turned us away,” Aurelia said, her voice hard. “They don’t get to pick and choose who’s as good as them. A bear is a bear and they have forsaken the sky’s blessings.”

Wrenley nodded. This should certainly be interesting. A group of girls with swords against five clans of bears?

She was sure she was missing some key details here to make this all make sense. But for now, she at least had a group of people who knew the land, the towns, and how to survive in this place.

“You can stay with us a while,” Aurelia said. “See if you think our mission is one you’d like to join.”

“Our tent only has two,” Elita said. “You can join Honey and I.”

“Thank you,” Wrenley said, smiling at her. “I’d like that.”

They finished dinner and cleaned up, putting the fire out before crawling into the tents. For a while, Wrenley laid in silence as she considered their story and all she’d learned from her short time with them. She wasn’t really sure what to make of the rejected. Surely, they were rejected for a reason. Not just because someone didn’t like them.

“The anger wears away after a while,” Honey said, his voice quiet. “Sometimes, connecting with the right people help to get you back into a better place. And yet, those feelings, they never truly leave you. You cannot get beyond the hurt, even when it’s gone.”

Wrenley turned her head to face his direction, but it was dark enough in the tent that she couldn’t make out anything. She didn’t need to because she understood that feeling. Last night… well, the last night she was at DeadEnd, she’d be absolutely furious with the whole thing. Pissed. Wanting to scream and cry because she felt so helpless in her wronged situation.

But Dylan seemed to know just what she needed to calm everything in her down. She knew that hadn’t been his intent. But his voice, his touch, his conversation and caring and admissions of his own trials, they’d seemed to soothe all the anger in her.

It was still there, as Honey had said. Still boiling just beyond reach, but not a rolling boil anymore. More of a simmering boil. Still angry that she was in the wrong fairy tale. Still pissed that the Operators had made her change and only given her four months to prepare when she’d been training for the previous for a decade.

But not ready to jump out of her skin in fury anymore.

“I kind of want it to go away completely,” Wrenley admitted. “So, I can accept my lot and move on.”

They both released huffs of humorless laughter.

“Maybe someday, if we ever find somewhere else to fully belong to,” Elita said. “But for now, the camaraderie of Chaos is enough to soothe some of the fires. Getting vengeance helps a little. To make those who have hurt you so bad pay for what they’d done.”

That’s where Wrenley wasn’t sure she agreed.

And she really missed her many pillows and blankets.