"So, do you want to come to bed?" Scarletra asked while pushing her papers into a neat stack.

　　Samuel looked at her confused before shaking his head and tapping his neck.

　　Scarletra blushed and reached up, pressing the button to reactivate her translator. It chimed, then spouted that it activated in a cold monotone. It was odd that she could hear it both speak her language in her ear and make the same statement in Galactic standard out loud. It was like the magical device was trying to talk over itself.

　　Samuel had asked her to shut it off several minutes ago so it was easier for him to coach her on the pronunciation of the letters of the Galactic Standard alphabet.

　　Scarletra was happy that Samuel had agreed to try and teach her Galactic standard. He was definitely correct in saying she needed to understand it if she wanted to learn more. That was made painfully clear when she peeked at one of the manuals stacked in the storage room. The entire book was filled with drawings similar to what he had made for her translator, with just as much, if not more, writing.

　　The galactic standard alphabet was odd. Why did there have to be so many different letters? At least they did not change pronunciation when combined. Samuel told her about his first language, English, and spoke it to her with the translator off so she could hear it—English was not just odd, it was downright appalling with how the letters flowed together to make words. While it was an incredibly smooth sound when compared to the Varintol language, which consisted of growls, barks, groans, and various other throaty noises, that still did not mean that she wanted to even attempt learning it. Learning one language at a time was difficult enough.

　　"I asked, do you want to go to bed with me?" Scarletra restated.

　　"No, I still have some work to do," Samuel said flatly, without hesitation.

　　"Are you sure? I know you are still grieving, but it would be nice to have a cuddle," Scarletra smiled, standing up from the sofa and putting the pages on one of the storage shelves in the main room.

　　Samuel sighed and muttered something quietly, too quietly for her to discern any meaning from it.

　　"Yeah-listen, I appreciate your understanding, but I still have to send out that report and fill out my supply requisition. Now that you are here. We are running out of food far faster than my employer had planned," Samuel said, pointing to the transmission room.

　　Scarletra had not thought that the GU was supplying him with food and other items, assuming he had to fend for himself after being dropped off. It made sense since they could travel amongst the stars and brought him from wherever Earth was so he could sit around and do nothing most of the time. She wondered if it was possible to visit Earth one day.

　　Samuel told her earlier about the extensive farms where he grew up. Scarletra could not believe there were endless kilometers of something called corn. Her tribe barely farmed at all; they did tend to some of the wild flora, but with how harsh the wilderness was, farming was almost impossible. She had heard tales of some tribes in the far south, where there was little to no snow for most of the year doing so, but had always thought those were just stories the men shared around the fire.

　　"I understand. I am going to the room I slept in last night," Scarletra said before starting to walk away.

　　She stopped just before entering the narrow bedroom hallway and looked back, hoping to see him following her. Though she did not get that, she did spot Samuel and smirked. He quickly turned his head away, wiping the slight smile on his lips. He did his best to look like he wasn`t just watching her ass while she left. It`s not exactly what she wanted, but it`s a start.

　　"Whenever you are done, you are more than welcome to join me," Scarletra purred, tantalizingly running her hand down her hips and over her rump, eliciting the cutest blush from Samuel.

　　"I will think about it," Samuel coughed into his hand, embarrassed that he had just been sneaking another peak despite knowing she knew he had done it before.

　　Scarletra nodded and then went to her bedroom. Once inside the room, Scarletra slipped out of her jumpsuit and folded it neatly before putting it down next to her old apparel and the toting gear with her pouches of supplies. She had moved them in here earlier while Samuel was occupied with getting them food and beer for dinner.

　　She ran her fingers over the jumpsuit`s fabric, trying to feel more of its soft texture. The red suit was still something she could not comprehend; that it had such intricate weaving and no seems to hold it together amazed her. If she had to try and sell something like this to one of the traders who bustled between tribes, she doubted any would even attempt to purchase it.

　　This was likely the most valuable thing she owned. Her rough knife and metal tools back at the cave could not compare. It was one of a kind and made out of what any Matriarch would say only she could wear.

　　Scarletra fluffed her fur up and brushed it out of habit. She knew there were no insects or stragglers that would nestle themselves in her fur in the outpost, but old habits die hard, and not doing so felt wrong.

　　Scarletra nestled into the bed, the frame creaking under her weight, electing not to use the blankets; the room and her fur were plenty warm as is. She shifted her attention to the window, watching the snow batter against it, sounding similar to hundreds of people walking amidst the snow-packed trees.

　　Scarletra`s idle mind lingered on the thought a bit too much and pushed her back to her past. Scarletra the warrior.

　　Scarletra the bloody.

　　—

　　That day had been frigid, far colder than the winter had been in a long time, not that she and the other raiders minded. She was only fifteen at the time. She and the raiding party were going to take advantage of the cold and a blizzard that was about to roll in and enlighten yet another diminutive tribe Mother had wished to see brought into the Ursana fold or kill them all—-she did not care which

　　Scarltra stood next to her mother atop a snow-covered boulder. The wind whipped violently around them. She was clad in the finest furs for the momentous occasion of her becoming a woman. Not that, at the time, Scarletra understood how horribly this day would be scarred into her soul.

　　Below them were the other raiders, hundreds of them. All were adorned in the finest armor mother could acquire. Many wore hardened leathers from the south; the commanders wore metal bracers and chest pieces. Because this was her first battle and she was expected to lead the charge, she was not allowed to wear any armor, lest she shame her status as the future Ursana Matriarch.

　　 In each warrior`s hand were axes, spears, swords, or other weapons of war. Their faces were cold and distant, but their eyes burned with fire, eager to spill the enemy`s blood. A feeling they did not share.

　　 The crowd looked up at Mother and Scarletra, waiting for the ceremony to commence. They regrettably did not have to wait long. Mother was not known for her patience after all.

　　"Keep your eyes open, everyone. Today, we wipe the filthy Molun tribe off my planet," Mother shouted over the whipping wind. "Today is a glorious day for us all. My daughter has at long last become of age and shall be given a name and will lead us to another victory."Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author`s consent. Report any sightings.

　　The crowd of raiders shouted loudly, overpowering the storm. A mighty thunderous call, defying the Great Mother`s rule of the planet, if only for the moment.

　　"Now, my child, are you prepared?" Mother stated, turning to Scarletra.

　　Scarletra nodded, well aware that was not a question, even if it was worded as one. She looked down at her mother. Mother`s golden fur was bright, shining, and well-groomed. It glowed like fire. Her piercing red eyes were as commanding as every word from her lips. Unlike the rest of the warriors, she was not expected to fight. Being the matriarch earned her, and only her, that right, and as such, she wore the finest Nulian furs. They were jet black and gave her an imposing presence.

　　"Excellent," Mother sneered, reaching beneath her cloke and retrieving Scarletra`s gift. The only gift Mother had ever given her. "Hold out your hand, child."

　　Scarletra complied, knowing if she did not, the crowd of raiders would bludgeon her half to death, and then she would be forced to go through with the ceremony anyway.

　　Mother pulled out a small bundle of dried red moss. Hurots spirit. The herb was used only once in a warrior`s life and granted them the savagery of Hurot, the god of war. It was the signature of her clan`s warriors and blessed them with the blood rage from then on.

　　Mother held it up above her, showing it to the crowd. They screamed for blood, shouting Hurot`s name, praying the god of war hears them and blesses the holy ceremony. Mother then turned and looked up at her daughter, a vile, disgusting grin on her lips, her sharp fags glistening like daggers.

　　"My child, Hurot sees you, hears you, knows you, and shall guide your hand," she shouted over the crowd. "Hurot demands your name. She will call out to you in battle and grant you her strength, her power. Let her guide you, Scarletra! Scarletra born of blood. Born to spill the blood. The future matriarch of the Ursana!"

　　That was the first time Scarletra had heard her name. No longer was she "child of the Matriarch" or any other nickname she had picked up along the way. That name was the only thing she would be from then on.

　　Mother then placed the Hurot spirit in Scarletra`s outstretched palm. The crowd shouted her name in rhythm, matched with fists slamming against armor and beating hearts. Sounding akin to the loudest war drums before a battle.

　　Scarletra faced the crowd and paused, her heart stammering as nervousness overflowed from her. There was no going back. Eating this would change her forever. Grant her the rage and, hopefully, the will to fight. She had never wanted to fight and had already become accustomed to being forced to practice until she was bloody and beaten. The name was Mother`s way of ensuring her dear daughter would never forget those lessons.

　　She had no choice. A part of her painfully prayed this would change her, make the pain of training go away, and bring a claw to the throat of her hesitance. So, with a heavy hand, Scarltra held the unnaturally heavy bundle of herbs and began to declare herself to the god.

　　"I am Scarletra! Future Matriatch of the Ursana! Hurot, grant me your strength and power as I lead the charge!" She shouted at the top of her lungs before shoving the herb into her mouth and swallowing. Oh, how much she regrets that moment.

　　There was nothing for several seconds after the Hurot spirit entered her body. Then it began.

　　Fire coursed through her veins, causing her to drop to her knees and scream in agony. Her heart increased to a fever pitch, feeling like it would explode any beat. She clawed at the boulder, gouging it deeply. The white snow below her shifted to the darkest, most violent crimson she had ever seen. Her mind fogged as the world around her grew silent; the only thing in that forest making any noise was her.

　　Mother stepped back from her, letting her will be done.

　　Scarletra`s muscles pulsed and tightened beyond anything she had ever known possible. The gouges in the rock got deeper as Hurot`s strength fed her power and whispered violence in her ear. She crushed the crumbling boulder`s shards to dust in her palms as the holy power of Hurot became hers.

　　"I am Scarletra. Born of blood, Slayer of the Usrans foes. I am the blessed of Hurot," She roared, looking up at the crowd of eager, violent warriors. They parted for her, the target of her rage front and center.

　　The village of the Molun.

　　The small village`s fire burned brightly in the valley below, barely visible through the growing storm. Just seeing the flickering flames hurt and insulted Scarletra`s vision. How dare they exist. How dare they think they can set foot in the land that belonged to Mother.

　　 Without even thinking of it, Scarletra rushed forth and down the valley`s slopes, leaving her sword behind. She only needed her claws and jaws to rip these animals apart, just as Hurot willed. She created a small avalanche in her wake and crushed trees, boulders, and any poor creature not fast enough to escape her uncontrollable blood lust.

　　Though she did not know it then, the tribe tried to follow her closely like any other attack. But she moved faster than any of Hurot`s blessed had ever done. She was a walking calamity, a disaster waiting to happen—no, a premonition of the end, released upon Baritin`s surface. A living weapon ready to be pointed at the enemies of the Ursana, just as Mother intended her to be.

　　Scarletra reached the village, her hunger for death growing. A pair of guards stood between her and the soon-to-be victims. But she approached so fast they had not noticed her presence until the massive wall of teeth and claws was upon them.

　　The young Varintol male standing guard nearest to her stood no chance. As naturally as breathing, Scarletra grabbed his face and crushed it like fruit. Blood, bone, and brain squelched through her fingers, feeding her fury. His body spasmed as his soul drifted to the icy abyss.

　　She swapped quickly to the second watchman, an older-looking woman with horror filling her eyes. Her fur was similar in its brownish shade to the corpse scarletra tossed at her feat; likely, they were related. But such thoughts were beyond anything Scarletra was capable of while Hutor screamed in her ear.

　　 The woman desperately clawed at a horn attached to her belt while trying to retreat. She was no threat, but in Scarletra`s rage, that did not matter. She was the enemy, and Scarletra the reaper.

　　Scarletra was on her before the woman had managed a yelp in panic. Hurot guided her to the correct solution, grabbing the woman`s shoulders and sinking her claws deep into flesh and bone. Before the woman screamed in agony, Scarletra clamped down on the woman`s head with her jaw.

　　 It took less than a second for scarletra to turn the guard`s brain and blood to delectable ichor that flowed down her gullet. A mind-altering ecstasy filled her. More potent than any drug, more warm and welcoming than a summer`s day.

　　Tasting the blissful flowing blood of war was when the fog of war set in.

　　Scarletra arched her back and roared, announcing to the world the birth of the monster she became. And giving herself to Hurot`s fury, allowing the god to guide her blessed through war.

　　Scarletra did not think, did not question. She simply fought like a beast possessed.

　　According to the other raiders, by the time they reached the village. Scarletra had already slaughtered the vast majority of them. The only ones left were those she simply had not sniffed out yet.

　　By the time Scarletra had regained her sensibilities the following morning, she lay in the snow of the village. To her horror, she was surrounded by the victims of what she had done. Men, women, children, even her own clan mates. They were torn to shreds, limbs scattered, throats ripped out, guts stinging from cold corpses. Any armor or fight they may have had was nothing to her. She tore through mail, shield, and bone alike.

　　The snow was sopped with cold, congealed blood, as was she. Scarletra looked out amidst the carnage she had wrought and shuddered. She had not registered the spear shoved through her gut or the uncountable slashes and stab wounds oozing her life onto the ground.

　　Scarletra sniffled and started to cry. She reached over and, in child-like desperation, begged for forgiveness from one of the bodies of the slaughtered. The disemboweled woman`s eyes were blank, but her face contorted in fear. Scarltra cradled the corpse in her arms, unable to process everything that she had done.

　　Scarletra shook her limp corpse, praying to the great mother the woman`s dull orange eyes would move, or she would whimper, announcing some small flame of life left inside her.

　　But no matter what she did, how hard she prayed or cried, the body`s eyes remained vapid, staring back at her, judging her soul.

　　She never wanted to kill anyone. A woman just like this was someone she could befriend and spend time with, just like scarletra tried with everyone.

　　Why would she want to hurt them?

　　 As she wailed in pain, Scarletra heard her Mother`s roar, proud and booming, echo through the grim battlefield. She looked up at the hills. Through tear-filled eyes, she saw Mother standing amidst the swaying snow-capped trees, arms crossed, a viscous approving smile on her face.

　　From that moment, Scarletra the Bloody was truly born.

　　Scarltra was ripped from her horrible memories, hearing the sound of Samuel`s door shut down the hall. Thank the Great Mother thing he did not come in with her. She did not want him to notice that she had tossed herself into what might as well have been the worst memory she had.

　　Scarletra whipped the tears from her eyes and tried to sleep, but her mind was heavy with a horrible, looming thought. What if the outpost was next? What if her tribe found her and decided here was where they would target?

　　She shuddered, imagining her old tribe outside, preparing to besiege the outpost, baying for hers and Samuel`s blood. The calm trees and soft winds twisted by the war cries of the Ursana.

　　Thankfully, that could not happen. It had been years since they lost track of her. Scarletra did not even know if they were still looking for her. Hopefully, she was just a faded memory to them.