Chapter 1

Rakia

It was long past the tavern’s hours by the time I reached it, my limbs trembling with hunger and exhaustion. The pain in my stomach had long since overridden any hesitation I once had about stealing. Whatever morality I had clung to, whatever pride had kept me upright through the past few days—it had all crumbled under the weight of that gnawing emptiness in my belly. I pushed the tavern door open, surprised it hadn’t been locked, and stepped inside.

The air was thick with the lingering ghosts of warmth and food. Though the fires were cold now, I could still smell the echoes of life from earlier in the evening—the yeasty comfort of baked bread, the smoky, savory scent of roasting meat, and a hint of ale soaked into the old floorboards. My stomach growled, a sharp, twisting reminder of why I was here.

Scanning the dim interior, I spotted a small wooden pail near the end of the counter. Leftovers. Probably destined for the swill bucket come morning. I staggered toward it like a drunkard chasing his last drink. Inside, there were a few hardened pieces of bread, clearly stale, and tucked beside them, a box holding cured meat—thin, salty, precious strips, preserved and pungent.

My hands moved before I could think. I shoved the meat and bread into my mouth, chewing through the dry crusts like a starving animal. The bread scraped my throat raw, but I didn’t care. I devoured it, bite after bite, every last crumb. Half the meat vanished into my mouth before I could even register what I was doing. Only when my stomach began to ache from the sudden weight did I stop. For once, in many days, I felt full. Sated, even. It was almost enough to make me cry.

I slid down against the side of the counter, my back pressed to the cool wood, heart finally slowing as the food settled in me like stones. The silence of the tavern was a strange kind of peace. I closed my eyes—not to sleep, but just to rest, just for a moment. Just to remember what it felt like not to be running.

A loud clang shattered the stillness.

My eyes flew open.

Peeking over the edge of the counter, I spotted a figure approaching from the back hallway, holding a kerosene lamp. The flame was low, flickering softly, just enough to catch the faint gleam of something on my wrist—my bracelet.

Damn it.

I instinctively yanked my hand to my chest and froze.

“Who’s there?!” the man shouted, his voice booming in the silence. “I know someone’s here—show yourself!”

I bolted.

Still crouching, I launched myself around the counter, nearly crashing into him in my haste. The lamp swung wildly, casting long, frantic shadows against the walls.

“GET HER!” he roared behind me, his boots thundering against the floorboards as he gave chase. “Stop! If you don’t stop, I’ll have to kill you!!”

His threat jolted something deep in me, adrenaline surging anew. I darted out the front door into the dark alley, breath heaving, the cool air burning my lungs.

Ahead, a wall blocked my path. To the left was a passage leading into the town square, too exposed. To the right, more alleyway—but it looked like a dead end. Still, I needed to throw him off. I could hear the ragged panting of his breath, the creak of his lamp, his boots slamming on the stone.

I turned right.

The alley narrowed around me, pressing in like the throat of some enormous beast. I forced my legs to move faster. Behind me, the lamplight danced closer. I could hear him snarling something under his breath. 

Something slammed against the wall near my head. A rock. The bastard was throwing rocks at me! Another flew by, catching my cheek and slicing a line of fire across it. I cried out but didn’t stop.

Ahead, barely visible, was a gate.

Please, I begged silently. Let it open. Let it be enough.

I rammed into it with my shoulder, the hinges groaning. The gate gave just enough. I slipped through, scraping my side against the wood. I could hear the innkeeper behind me, yelling curses, but I didn’t look back.

Beyond the gate was a rough path, barely more than flattened weeds leading into the woods. I ran along it until the light from the tavern was gone, until the night swallowed his voice and I was alone again.

I kept walking.

The farther I went, the stranger the forest became. The trees loomed like sentries, twisted into unnatural shapes, their branches reaching down like skeletal hands. Each step felt heavier, the quiet pressing in thickly. The rocks beneath my feet groaned, or maybe that was just my mind playing tricks. The moonlight, once my guide, was gone, buried beneath thick layers of leaves.

I had no idea how long I wandered. My legs trembled, my feet throbbed, the cut on my face pulsed, and my mind began to unravel. I saw eyes in the shadows. Shapes moved just beyond my vision. My breathing came in ragged gasps.

“I am Rakia,” I whispered, over and over. “I am strong. Even if I am lost, I will find my way. I will get out.”

It became a rhythm. A pulse. My heartbeat in words.

I didn’t notice the light at first, just a subtle change in the air. A soft glow filtered through the trees ahead, falling on a lone trunk. As I approached, I saw jagged slashes etched deep into the bark, raw and violent.

I reached out, touching one with my fingertip. The bark was rough and dry, but the cut felt… recent. A chill ran down my spine. Something had happened here. Something dark.

And as long as my hand rested on the tree, I could feel it watching me.

I pulled my hand away, and the sensation faded. My curiosity gnawed at me. What had done this? Why here? Was it warning me, or was I already too deep in its grip?

My head throbbed. My feet were stinging from running barefoot through broken ground—I must’ve stepped on something in my escape.

Then I heard it.

Water.

A stream.

I stumbled toward the sound, nearly weeping with relief. The silver glint of moonlight shimmered on the water’s surface. I dropped to my knees and drank greedily, the coolness soothing my parched throat and settling my churning stomach. I washed my hands, then stripped off my outer layer and scrubbed it as best I could in the stream.

I spread the clothes out on the grass to dry and sank back against a tree. I was exhausted—truly exhausted. My bones ached, my eyes were heavy, and I couldn’t walk another step if I tried.

I had found no cave, no shelter. Just a quiet patch of forest with cold water and strange silence.

But it was enough—for now.

I lay down on the earth, staring up at the stars barely visible through the canopy, and as the quiet crept in around me, the world slowly faded to black.