How could I know what I wanted when I’d never been given the opportunity to choose?
I used to think I had a clear sense of who I was, something I understood to my very core. But I was wrong. I didn’t know myself at all. Not what I wanted. Not what I needed. The confidence I carried for so long was just a front, easily shattered the moment I questioned it. It was never real, just something I held onto because I had nothing else.
“Kill me,” I whispered to the forest.
As if in answer, the yellow eyes opened again. This time, I didn’t flinch. I looked straight at them. I’d like to think Istill had some strength in me, some trace of resolve, but more likely, my stare was empty. Just tired.
The yellow eyes drifted closer, though shadows still clung tightly to them. I could make out a figure, tall, hard to define, like it didn’t want to be seen. My thoughts were slipping, my body heavier with each breath, drawn toward the quiet pull of sleep. Of nothing. But I kept watching, even as the shape began to step forward.
It wasn’t a monster. It wasn’t a beast or creature.
But it stalked me like I was prey.
The folk of Falhurst once called me a devil, but they were wrong. I knew now what a devil truly was, because it stood before me.
The thing radiated pure malevolence. The air around it was thick with something vile, something ancient and vengeful. If I hadn’t already collapsed, I would have fallen to my knees beneath the weight of it.
Torhiel was the land of devils and one of them had found me.
I driftedin and out of consciousness, barely tethered to the world around me. But I felt strong hands carrying me from below. My arms hung limp, swinging with each step, and my head lolled in rhythm. Yet, strangely, the searing pain in my shoulder had dulled to nothing.
Maybe the god of death had taken pity on me, I thought.Maybe he was carrying me to his kingdom to let me rest.
That was wishful thinking.
I didn’t feel dead, whatever that was supposed to feel like.
The thought made me giggle deliriously. The arms around me paused at that sound, just for a moment, then carried on. My eyes fluttered open and closed in lazy intervals, catching only flashes of my surroundings. I felt the cool whisper of wind in the air around us. I heard the steady crunch of footsteps against earth, slow and willful.There was no sound of breath, yet I could feel the rise and fall of something against me, like lungs drawing air.
As time passed, still no light touched our path.
The hypnotic rhythm of movement lulled me into another brief, fragile sleep, but I jolted awake as I was being set down. My eyes shot open, though I still saw nothing but black.
The relief from the earlier pain vanished in an instant. It came back in pieces, sharp and scattered, like shards of glass sinking into my flesh. I cried out, a hoarse sound tore from my throat as my body met the hard ground. Frantically, I reached, grasping for the arms that had held me, the ones that had made the pain bearable.
But they were gone.
And in their absence, the fever surged, and the cold returned with teeth.
It felt like ages when the arms finally returned to me, but they no longer offered the gentle touch they once had. They moved with intent, positioning me roughly, turning me onto my side and exposing my left shoulder. I screamed violently, pain flashing stars across my vision, but the arms didn’t falter. They held me down, tearing at my tunic until the fabric gave way and my shoulder was bare. I shrieked and thrashed, trying to wrench my arm away, but I was too weak, too spent.
I was no match for the devil that had caught me.
The air filled with the sharp aroma of myrrh, garlic, sage, mint, and honey. The strong hands pinned me in place. My arms were useless as strange fingers found the wound and packed it with a poultice of the crushed herbs. I let out a harrowing scream that echoed through the forest. The pain was so deep, so severe, I feared my throat might tear to shreds from the sound of it. Then something sticky and sweet was shoved into my mouth, coating my tongue and teeth. I gagged, choking on the taste.
I felt powerless, and something inside me stirred at that. Hot and angry. The rage bubbled up fast, pushing against the pain. I thrashedagain, not with strength, but with wrath, the dark part of me rising with the agony.
Just when I reached my breaking point, the touch from the devil changed.
The hands returned to their gentle manner, as if satisfied by my outburst. Like they were proud of what had come with it. Fingers brushed along my cheek, tucking stray locks of hair behind my ear. I didn’t know if it was real or imagined at first, but then I heard it. A low, soothing hum of a song.
The tune was unfamiliar, sung in a tongue I didn’t understand, but it filled my ears and offered a strange comfort. It didn’t try to silence my wrath, but acknowledged it, allowing it to exist without letting it consume me as it always had.
And for the first time, the wrath didn’t rise against me, it rose within me.
35
The first thingI saw when I opened my eyes was the leafy canopy overhead. In the weave of leaves and limbs, a silver gleam hung in the air. My senses returned slowly, though something about them changed from before. I focused on a branch above, noticing each vein winding its own way. No two were the same. It made me smile.
