Chapter 2

A flash of lightning distracts me from my search of shelter for the night. My steps falter, and I pause to listen for the thunder that follows in the wake of a strike. I hold myself immobile for at least a minute without hearing a distant rumble. Now more cautious, I continue forward another thirty paces before a second flash appears in the distance, just over the tree line. What the shit? My brows furrow and my lips turn down slightly at the corners.

I could go see what it is or I could keep looking for a place to rest. The safest option would be to move in the opposite direction and seek shelter. I have no idea what could be out here beyond the boundary line. It’s not safe to wander in the dark as it is.

There are two flashes this time. I’d be insane to let my curiosity cloud my judgment. Really insane. I’ll just turn around and move away from the weird lights.

Yet, even as I think it, my feet start walking the wrong direction. No, no, no. Turn around. This is stupid. Insane. No. My feet aren’t listening to me as they continue my potential death march to the eerie light show. This isn’t happening. Stop. Stop. STOP. It’s like I have no control over body. What in the Hellvian is going on?

My pace steadily increases with the frequency of the lights. It’s as if the two are in tandem with each other.

My heart is beating out of my chest. A small part of me wishes it would, just so I stop moving closer to the blinding lights. As I step over a fallen log, the lights instantly die away.

Before I can even wonder what happened,  a slight jolt crashes through my body and although not painful, it’s surprising in its strength. It is like the static electricity I feel when I touch my siblings after scuffing along a rug. I refocus on my surroundings and a particular quietness has crept into the space around me. Yet at the same time, I am assaulted by a new atmosphere that should have been perceptible before this moment. There is an unnatural stillness as if the air itself was too scared to move. There is no longer a breeze to push my hair away from my face. I can no longer hear the subtle sounds of the wilderness.

Instead, where there were once dense trees touching the tip of the night sky, there sits a small village, alight with torches and electricity in a clearing. There was no way I could have missed this during my walk, and with so much light, this place would even be visible from my village.

My instincts scream at me to flee as fast as my legs can carry me, but my body still refuses to heed my orders. My body at last stops, but instead of retreating to safety, I remain frozen. Some unseen force grips me like a vise. My insides are frozen from the terror that leaches into my bloodstream, like a steady spreading poison. I know the truth, but my mind refuses to comprehend it. No. This … this can’t … it isn’t … no. I don’t understand.

I shake myself free before I delve any further into that nightmare. I count my breaths, steadying myself while I dust the dirt and forest debris off my clothes. I steer my thoughts towards a more practical subject—survival. As long as I repeat my mantra, I’ll be fine.

The most important thing right now is finding food. The berries yesterday set me back, but I’ll try again. It’s been three days since I escaped and I haven’t had nearly enough food. I need to find a human village. I need a bow to hunt. I need food and water. I need to keep moving. Shakily, I rise to my feet and stumble forward. Looking to the sky, I realize  it’s only early morning. Thankfully I didn’t sleep too long; I can’t afford to waste the day.

****

I grind to halt in the early evening, listening closely for the sounds I thought I’d heard. I hold my breath and expel it, when the sound once again graces my ears. Too afraid to hope, I tiptoe in the direction the noise came from. When it steadily grows louder and more persistent, my heart soars. It’s the precious sound of life. Village bustle has never sounded so perfect. I rush forward, stumbling into a nearby tree, but that doesn’t stop hope from consuming me.

I did it. I made it.

My stomach growls loudly and I grimace. I have nothing to offer anyone in exchange for food.

First, I’ll head into town and ask around for help. If they are amicable, I may get lucky and receive some bread. I can offer to work for room and board if that doesn’t work. If that doesn’t go either, I’ll steal some supplies when it gets dark.

 I trudge forward more slowly than before. Soon enough the outskirts of the village are within sight. The smoke rising from the blacksmith floats towards the clouds. Not many villages have the resources to build a smithy and create weapons with iron, but the ones that do, make enough to trade with other villages on market day. That is how my village stocked up on metal weapons. However, all the wooden weapons—like bows—were made by someone in the village.

This village reminds me of home. My chest tightens painfully and tears tumble down my cheeks. The village is small, but the layout is similar to my own village. In the heart of the village is the plaza, where the meeting hall stands in near perfect condition. This is where the elders gather and the village holds their meetings.

The currently empty wooden stalls sit under the awning in the plaza. These stalls are used during market day where traders set up their wares for an entire week, four times a year. The homes are spread out in loose circles surrounding the plaza and hall, roughly fifteen in the first ring, and twenty behind them, with the dol trees trapping them in.

The homes lying further back hold the farmlands and pasture in order to maximize the usage of space. All the homes and structures are made almost entirely of wood and stone, each in varying states of upkeep. Those more well off, those with higher position, have the most pristine dwellings, and reside closest to the plaza and hall.

Without realizing it, I passed over the boundary line separating the village and the surrounding forest. In a daze, I take a step forward, and run right into someone. Startled, I stumble. I glance up to apologize when I’m shoved away. This time I go down hard.

I struggle to gain back my lost breath, stunned. Slightly discouraged, I push my matted hair from my face and tentatively move on.

At least the tears have stopped.

Not long after, I come across another villager scurrying along. This man looks to be in his late forties with aged skin and graying hair. His appearance and demure stance suggest he is relatively well off. There are no tears or stains in his clothes and he stands tall with shoulders back. I hesitantly move before him and whisper an uncertain hello. He looks down his nose at me, making me cringe and look away.

I imagine I look horrible. All the dirt and blood in my hair have it looking more brown than red-orange. My once clean clothes are now nothing more than rags soiled with gods knows what doing little to hide my protruding bones.  I don’t even want to think about what cakes my pale 5’4 frame.  I imagine my silver eyes look more grey and defeated, which is only emphasized by my spilt lip and bruised body. 

Gathering courage, I glance back up and say, louder than before, “I need help, please. Is there any food and water I could have?”

With a disgusted look, the man spits out, “You’re not welcome here. Leave before I have you thrown in the cells for trespassing.”

As he marches away, I call out to him in desperation. “Please, if I could get some food, I’ll leave. I’ll even work for the food. I’ll do anything. Please!” Nothing I say seems to reach him. Too soon, he’s gone from my sight and I’m left alone once again. Tears prickle my eyes but I refuse to let them fall.

Not knowing what else to do, I rush to find someone else. Finally, I discover an old woman sitting on her porch swing. She has a full head of gray and white hair. Her skin is wrinkled, and her clothes are worn. Her stern expression causes my steps to falter before I right myself. Now is not the time to hesitate. I need to eat before I fade away.

“Please, I need some food and water. Will you help me?” I manage to squeak out.

Instead of responding, the old woman swiftly moves into the house. I simply stare after her, my hope shattering and my heart breaking. I don’t understand why they shun me, and turn me away. They don’t bother to listen to what I have to say.

Without permission, tears begin to silently roll down my face. As I move to turn around, a rough hand on my shoulder pushes my knees to the ground. I cry out at the feel of my bones hitting the rocks that litter the ground. In seconds, my hands are tied painfully behind my back and before I can utter one confused word of protest, I’m dragged away, my arms wrenched back. Memories surge to the forefront of my mind.

He strolls across the grass towards me. For a brief moment of time, I forget about the horrible sight I have just seen. He is beautiful, otherworldly. Even from a distance I can tell He is tall and lean. As He nears,  the glow of ebony hair in the moonlight and a spark of light in His golden eyes draws my gaze.

Golden eyes? No, there’s no such thing. Yet, even as my mind rebels against the thought, the proof now towers over me. The unnatural color shocks me from my daze. The horrors I’d seen but moments before, now fresh in my mind once again. The terror in my veins grows as he smiles. For a creature with such beauty, a smile should enhance it, not stir awake every instinct I have to flee.

I hold my breath as His hand reaches to stroke my face. My body is still not mine to command, otherwise I would have flinched as His frozen skin made contact with mine.

“Well, what do we have here? A little bhria who seems to have lost her way. Seeing as you’ve come such a long way, I offer you my finest hospitality.” His voice is hypnotic and soothing as I stare up at Him in rapture. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. Unconcerned, I push it away until I focus all my attention on the magnificent creature before me. Why was I ever afraid? I’m drawn from my thoughts as His voice whispers over my skin.

“It’s been so long since we’ve had a guest arrive to our front door. Everyone will be so pleased.” He places His hand gently across my back and directs me forward.

Before I can dwell on the realization that I can move my body, His voice calls my attention once more.

“We have so many fun things planned for you, Little Bhria. We even have a room already picked out for you. It’s secluded to give you privacy, away from all the commotion. There’s even top-class entertainment available if you manage to stay that long. And who knows, perhaps you’ll last a little longer than others, wouldn’t that be something?”

That nagging feeling starts to swell and I falter. He notices and by the look on His face, I would say my hesitation pleases Him, although I have no idea why. I resist with more force this time as he tries to coax me further. My emotions are no longer locked down, and the overwhelming tide swipes me under.

The terror is overpowering. My mind can’t comprehend all that has happened. I don’t understand why I was enthralled by this thing. What is wrong with me? What is wrong with this place?

 I no longer stand by the edge of town. Instead, I am standing a few paces from the steps leading to the house. A handful of people have stepped outside to see their new ‘guest’ and now stare at me in wonder. The weight of the stares makes my skin crawl.

I glance up frightfully as He motions to someone behind me. Before I can blink, a hand on my shoulder shoves my knees forcefully to the ground. The jolt of my knees hitting the rocks, rips a cry from my lips. In no time, my hands are secured behind my back.

I swallow the scream threatening to rise.

“That willpower of yours is something. I think you’ll do well here indeed. I have high hopes that you’ll last a while; don’t let me down, Little Bhria.” He pats my head before glancing at the person gripping me. “Don’t hurt her. We need her whole… for now.”

The air thins and my breathing labors. Panic grips me as His words penetrate. This isn’t real, it’s just a bad dream. I watch Him through blurry eyes as He turns away. My arms are wrenched back, and my ass lands in the dirt. I whimper as I’m dragged away to the concrete prison.

My mind comes back to me and I’m free from the past for a moment.

Even to this day, I hate bhria’s. Those small, fragile, weak, flying creatures. To be compared to a docile and shy creature like that angers me. I slam the door to my thoughts before the poison leaches further. This time it’s different. These people are humans. These people are my kind. Once I explain everything, they will help me. They will release me, I just need to stay calm and think.

Too soon I’m tossed into a filthy cell underneath the town hall. As I land, the dust jumps to life and I hack and wheeze uncontrollably. Unable to catch my breath, I watch helplessly as the villagers take their leave, knowing I may have lost my only opportunity to speak to them in my own defense. Despair starts to creep its way into my heart.

After what feels like a lifetime, I’m able to at last breath. My eyes are bone dry and burn like I haven’t blinked in weeks. It’s as if I swallowed mouthfuls of sand and stones, the stinging in my throat beyond uncomfortable. My body aches from the fall and my arms are going numb. 

Dragging myself to the corner, I rest against the wall. I pull my knees up to rest my chin as my mind wanders.