I stare down at my hands, scraped and bloody from my fall. I'm still clutching the emerald ring. Questions swirl through my head too fast for me to complete a thought. Why did she-? Who is-? What is he? What did I-? How did I-?
I take a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself, but my heart is still pounding. My legs and lungs scream and it takes me several moments to recover from my marathon. When my breaths are once again even, I take my pack off my back and drop it to the ground next to me. I need to take stock of everything. It's dark, so the sun has set. Where am I?I take a look around. I'm in the middle of the forest and I don't recognize my surroundings. There is no path in sight, other than the one I plowed as I ran. But even my trail of footprints in the snow and broken branches are hard to see. The evergreens surrounding me are thick, hardly allowing any moonlight to penetrate through to the ground. I'll need to make camp here. I know that if I try to find a road now, in this darkness, I will get more lost, or, more likely, fall down a hill and die.
I start a fire, and a sharp pang reminding me of my hunger stabs my belly. I retrieve my bread and cheese and scarf it down, forgetting to savor it. When every crumb is gone, I revisit the events of the day.
Something bizarre is happening, and I seem to be the focal point. I didn't have to negotiate, or even really ask, for anything at the market today. I got everything I wanted and then some. But what happened with the ring bothered me far more. Why on earth would that woman, and obvious thief and formidable saleswoman just give me the ring? I inspect it in my hand, looking for any sign that it's a forgery.
But the ring is even more beautiful and exquisite than I had originally thought. Its band is gold, and the emerald is clear and a brilliant green. Etched onto the outside of the band are intricate designs I can't make out in the dim moonlight and pitiful fire. It's obviously no fake. So why would she give it away? And why did she single me out? I furrowed my brow in frustration and thread the ring though the laces of my boot.
But as mystifying as the interaction with her was, that strange man baffles me even more. He seemed so out of place there, but no one seemed to notice him. I didn't notice him until I slammed into him. And the way he looked at me… My heart slams in my chest at the memory. He was so angry with me, and so forceful. Why did he care? Who was he? Maybe he was who she had stolen the ring from.
No. He would have taken it from me if that were true. So what didhe want?
I brush a hand over my arm where he had gripped me so hard and, as I expect, feel a tenderness there. I don't understand it. He acted like I was a threat or a criminal. But I'm not. I'm short and timid and certainly no danger to anyone, especially a man of his stature. My hand travels up my neck to jaw where he manhandled my face to feel the injury there as well, but as my hand touches the iron necklace adorning me I remember the burning. It felt like it was branding me. But I don't feel any sort of burn there now. I frown. I don't smell my necklace anymore either, just the smoke from the fire at my feet. The burning from the necklace, and smell of my scorched skin… I must have imagined it. Or it was a physical response from the terror that man sparked in me.
Full of questions without answers, I sigh and decide to sleep. There's nothing I can do about it now.
My eyes snap open at the sound of a thud, and I'm greeted with bright morning light. I blink my eyes as they try to adjust and hear another rustle to my left. Now on high alert, I scramble to my feet. A woman with her back to me is crouched on the ground, dumping the contents of my pack and sifting through them.
"What are you doing? That's mine! Stop!" I scream at the thief. She whips her head at me, flashing her crooked yellow teeth as she sneers at me. The familiarity of the teeth unearths her identity as the woman who begged me to take the ring and I briefly pause my protests. But when she ignores me and continues to rifle though my things, I charge forward. I grab her shoulder and struggle to pull her away from what's mine. I needthose things, for my survival, for my family.
But she snaps her jaw at me, like a caged animal being poked with a stick, not for a moment ceasing her intrusion. Desperate, I grab a fistful of her hair and yank her backwards. I throw her on her ass harder than I thought I was capable, and I squat next to her, picking up a rock and preparing to smack her in the head with it.
She hisses at me and spews with hatred, "I know what you are. But you don't scare me. No one steals from me, no matter how clever they think they are." She spits in my face and I blink with surprise.
She takes my momentary confusion as an opportunity to launch herself at me, knocking the rock out of my hand. She pushes me onto my back and place knees on my arms, effectively pinning me in place. I struggle and thrash as she grabs my hair, holding my head still, while she draws a knife with her other hand. She presses the tip of the blade against my throat, instantly halting my fight. She leans close to me ear and her hot breath caresses my face as she whispers, "I know what you are. And I also know how to make you bleed."
I stifle a whimper and I feel tears spill over, running down the side of my face as she digs the knife in, nicking my throat. My words sound pathetic and desperate as I plead, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I yield! You can have it back. You can have it!" She digs it in deeper and a sob escapes my lips as I scream with terror, "Please! Mercy! I'm sorry! I'll give it back!"
But she only smiles at me and says, "I'm not stupid enough to fall for your little tricks. I'll take the ring off your dead body."
And with the stinging pain of the blade slowly cutting across my throat, a glass-shattering scream, tears from my core, carrying with it everything I am and everything I have. The tightness in my chest uncoils and expands as a warmth that quickly becomes and unbearable flame spreads through me. My whole body is fire and I don't even feel the pain in my throat as it consumes me.
The woman's eyes widen at me with horror, and just as am about to die from this pain alone, it bursts away from me. The last thing I see before the blinding, brilliant flash of light sears my eyes is the woman mouth half open in a scream that never comes. As I fade, an overwhelming sense of relief floods through my every nerve and sleep takes me.
The ground pulls away from me, and firm pressure underneath the back of my knees and neck sparks discomfort. I let out a deep groan, but I'm too tired to open my eyes, or even care that the ground abandoned me. I feel frozen, and without feeling in my hands and feet, my joints unresponsive and stiff. I shiver, and wince. Everything hurts. But then I'm pressed against an incredible warmth, and the scent of pine join it on a journey through my senses. I want to nuzzle the heat, desperate for the comfort it brings, but pain once again shoots through every inch of my body and I groan again. My skin, my throat, my eyes all feel incredibly raw. My mouth feels like sand paper and I taste ash.
Suddenly I'm thrust upwards, the warmth accompanying me. The wind scratches at my face, and it morphs the raw into burning. As I force my eyes open, I struggle to make out the object blocking out the sun. My eyes focus, and take in the strong, shaved jaw, and beautiful green eyes. Thosegreen eyes.
Bile rises and I panic. He's come back to kill me.I push my hands against his chest, and struggle against his hold on me, but I'm weak, and his iron grip won't give. I try to talk, to beg him to let me go, but my lungs, throat, and tongue refuse to cooperate.
He chuckles, the noise deep and gravelly, and says, "You're a suicide risk. Noted."
What?I try to speak again, but my speech made no appearance. Left with no other options, I rake my nails against his cheek, even the small act of lifting my arm as difficult as living a boulder. My jagged nails actually manage to break the skin, barely. He growls at me, but doesn't let go as he snarls, "Do you wantto die?" Then he shifts so he's above me, and I feel the pull of gravity yanking at my side, beckoning me towards the ground. The ground that is getting further and further away. I scream, but it sounds more like a rasp which falters when I actually lookat the ground.
It's completely barren, its only features being the occasional rise and fall of hills, the reddish-brown color of the dirt and mounds of ash. The entire earth is charred, spanning at least ten miles out in every direction. The tip of the mountain, still capped with snow and the occasional tree, is the only thing left untouched. I scan the landscape once more when it hits me.
Braken has been leveled. And the damage stretches far. Too far. I look in the direction of my family's cottage, looking for the village as a land mark but… it just isn't there.
Another raspy scream breaks through me and I thrash in his arms with strength I don't have, tears pouring from my eyes, sobs ripping me apart.
I hear a hint of compassion in his voice for the first time as he says softly, "That's enough." He tilts his head close to my face and I see the sorrow and pity in his eyes before he presses his lips to my forehead and sleep claims me yet again.