I opened my eyes and groaned as I tried to stand, but someone pushed me back, and I passed out.
…
I opened my eyes again and saw a few people talking inside the cell. I closed my eyes and fell asleep again.
…
When I opened my eyes, there was only one person in the cell. I sat up and stared at him as he packed up the things he used to redress my injuries.
"How long have I been out?" I asked, but it came out differently. My throat was too sore for anything to sound right.
"You passed out after what happened. It's been two days," he said, standing up to leave.
"I…" I croaked, trying to stand. "I should apologize to them. I ruined everything. Almost dying has made me realize that I shouldn't just die; I should die with a purpose," I said with dreamy eyes.
"I'll call the master," he said, looking at me with skepticism.
The moment he left, I tried the door and saw it was locked. I sat back down and waited for them.
I didn't want to wake up, but since I did, I'm done staying here.
I grabbed the scalpel that was on the tray nearby and positioned myself as I was before, acting like I was still half awake.
The creepy man walked in with some guards. He stared at me intently, probably expecting me to make a move or do something crazy.
"I…" I started, panting as if I were out of breath. "I don't want to die, but… if I do, then I shouldn't just die, right?" I asked him.
"That's right, your majesty," he said.
"You won't attack Garhian, right?" I asked.
"If they agree to follow our teachings," he replied.
"That's… good," I said, then fell to the floor as if I had fainted. It hurt, but I wasn't going to faint like that.
"Tend to her; don't let your guard down," I heard the creepy man say.
The more it hurt, the more memories flooded my mind, each one a piercing reminder of everything I had endured. It was torturous, as if each wave of pain was tied to a moment in my past, pulling me down into the depths of my own despair. I could vividly recall the first time I set foot in Erries—the vibrant streets, the laughter of children playing, the aroma of fresh bread wafting through the air. It had felt like a dream, a place of promise and adventure. But that dream had quickly turned into a nightmare.
Callum's arrival was etched in my memory as well. His presence had brought a strange mix of hope and trepidation. He was supposed to be my ally, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that he carried secrets that could shatter everything I thought I knew. Each glance he cast in my direction felt like a hidden message, a reminder of the fragile trust that hung between us. The more I remembered, the more I felt trapped in a web of my own making, and the pain in my body mirrored the turmoil in my mind.
As the throbbing in my stomach intensified, I realized I was alone in this cell. Only one person remained behind; the rest had left with the door ajar, a gesture that seemed both careless and oddly freeing. I sighed internally, feeling the weight of my situation pressing down on me.
Slowly, I moved my hand toward the scalpel resting on the tray beside me, the cool metal gleaming under the dim light. Grabbing it firmly, I felt a surge of determination replace the haze of pain. This was my chance. I couldn't remain a victim in this twisted game. I stood up, bracing myself against the wall as a wave of dizziness washed over me.
Stepping away from the physician, I felt a newfound sense of purpose coursing through me. Each step was a declaration of my intent, a silent promise that I would not let my circumstances dictate my fate any longer. I was more than just a prisoner; I was a survivor, and I would fight for my freedom.
"Stay back," I said, pointing it at him.
"Your majesty," he said quietly.
I stepped backward until I reached the door, then shut it behind me and walked outside. There were two guards there. They came to restrain me, but I was not going to go down easily. They couldn't hurt me, but I could hurt them.
I stabbed one of them in the hand and hit the other in his most vulnerable spot. I ran as fast as I could, leaping through the corridors, retracing the same route I had taken last time. I finally reached the door, but instead of going through it, I searched for another exit. The tower was like a maze; I was going around in circles. When I finally found another door, it led to a kitchen.
The people inside just stared at me in confusion. I leapt inside, hoping they wouldn't recognize me, but I couldn't have been more wrong.
My body moved on its own as I kept throwing things at people until I reached the exit. I jumped out through a gate at the back and kept moving. In front of me lay a forest, but I would choose wild animals over those people any day.
Run, just keep running. Get away from here. Run, I kept telling myself, though I could barely keep my eyes open.
…
I opened my eyes and found myself on the floor in the middle of nowhere. I could hear howls, but I didn't have the luxury to be scared. I had to keep moving; I had to keep running; I had to get away.
…
I opened my eyes again and saw the blurry light of a fire. I sat up slowly and looked around. There was a fireplace not too far from where I was lying.
"Where am I?" I asked myself as I tried to stand up. It hurt all over; the injury in my stomach must have opened when I was running.
The bandages were new; someone must have tended to me, but the place didn't look like the tower.
A man walked in and rushed to my side. He helped me settle into a chair.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Who… Where am I?" I stammered.
"I found you passed out in the forest this morning," he replied. "Why were you there?" he asked.
"I…" I couldn't tell him; what if he was one of them? "I don't know," I said, holding my head.
"It's fine; get some rest. Your wound is really deep," he said.