──────────────⋆˖☽ 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 ☾˖⋆─────────────

The voice was not my own. It was ancient, a rasp of stone on stone that vibrated through my bones, seeming to rise from the very earth beneath me. Do not do this. You will sunder what little remains.

A phantom fire erupted through my veins. It was a heat without flame, a memory of cinder and ash that clung to my soul. My eyes flew open. I choked on a gasp, the air catching in my throat as my heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A violent tremor seized my limbs, a humiliating reminder of my own powerlessness.

Another night. Another pyre in my sleep.

I dragged myself into a sitting position, the glacial air of the tent a shock against my sweat-slicked skin. Outside, the wind howled a mournful dirge through the forest, making the canvas walls shudder. Which was worse? The haunting stillness of being awake in a dead world, or the fiery torment of my dreams?

“A curse on all humanity,” I rasped, the words a familiar and bitter on my tongue.

The cold was a better master than the fire. I let it steel me as I moved, each action a deliberate ritual against the chaos within. Pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and boots laced tight enough to bite. Finally, a heavy cloak to ward off the wind that forever smelled of damp earth and decay. My bow was a familiar weight, a solid, dependable limb against my own trembling ones. I slung it over my shoulder, the quiver of arrows a comforting pressure at my back.

With a steady hand, I unlaced the tent flap. The world outside was a study in shades of gray. A fierce gale tore through the ancient forest, forcing the gnarled trees into a violent, swaying dance under a starless, oppressive sky.

Then I saw him. Sierus was a slash of darkness against the muted landscape, perched on a moss-covered stump. His head was bowed, cradled in his hands. The wind whipped his inky hair across his face, a stark contrast to the unnatural stillness around him. An inky, fog-like miasma coiled at his feet, climbing up his entire body, a living shadow that seemed to siphon the color from the very moss he sat upon.

He looked up as if sensing my gaze, and his eyes found mine. They were a deep, thoughtful brown, creased at the corners by the ghost of a smile.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice a low rumble nearly stolen by the wind.

I gave a curt nod, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, Sierus.”

A faint blush rose on his cheeks, a startling splash of color in the gloom. He ignored my warning, pulling a cloth sack from his belt. As I settled onto a nearby fallen log, he began to untie the knot with fumbling fingers.

“I know it’s not much,” he murmured, folding back the cloth to reveal a small, dense loaf of bread. A phantom of the same dark miasma clung to the crust. “My mother pulled it from the oven an hour ago.”

I fixed him with a tired stare. “Does she know you brought her baking to me?”

He flinched, his gaze darting away. “She knows I was coming to check the snares.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sierus,” I said, my voice flat. “No one from Caelfall has sought me out willingly since the Elders cast me out. Not for twelve years. Not for my—”

“Alanah!” he snapped, his voice sharp with a surprising heat. “Don’t. You are not what they call you. I know what you really do out here.”

My gaze dropped to the forest floor. A small worm, pale and struggling, wriggled from the damp earth. Its slow, blind progress was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. My own path stretched out before me, just as bleak. Stonehollow first, for fletching and heads. Then reset the traps along the eastern ridge. And the creatures… they need to be culled before the next cursed moon.

“Alanah?” Sierus’s soft voice cut through my planning. I looked up. “Last night. How bad was it?”

“Fine,” I clipped out. A dull ache from my ribs protested the lie. A gift from a shrieker I’d sent back to the dust. “I saw a dragon, though.”

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Here? So close?”

“There was a fire near Stonehollow. That’s where I’m headed.” I glanced eastward, and his gaze followed mine across the blighted landscape.

“There’s no smoke,” he observed quietly.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” A pit of cold dread opened in my stomach. A fire that vanishes is a fire that was consumed. “I’ll find out.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “When will you go?”

“Soon. Now.”

He fiddled with the cloth sack in his hands. “Can I ask you something?”

I tilted my head. “You’re already here. You might as well.”

His gaze met mine for a fleeting, vulnerable second. “Why? Why protect them? Caelfall… they hate you. Why do you do it?”

The question hung in the air, simple and impossible. “It has to be done.”

“But you bleed for them,” he pressed, his voice laced with a frustration that mirrored my own. “And they spit on your name.”

“How they treat me doesn’t matter,” I said, the words tasting like iron. “This town cared for my mother before she passed. They took me in. That’s a debt. It’s the only thing they left me to repay.”

He simply nodded, his gaze turning toward the distant shadow of Stonehollow. “Do you think we’ll see more of them? Is the curse worsening?”

A harsh, bitter laugh tore from my throat. “Worse? Sierus, they’ve already poisoned the soil so nothing pure will grow. They haunt our sleep with fire and whispers. They twisted the very sky and gave us a moon that drives the beasts mad. What is left for them to take?”

The rage I kept banked like a coal began to glow. Let them come. Let me face one. I wanted to see its scales blacken and its blood steam on the dead earth. I wanted to watch them burn the way they have made us burn, generation after generation.

Sierus seemed to sense the shift in me. “It’s been centuries,” he said, his voice soft, pulling me back from the edge. “No one alive remembers it differently. Have you ever wondered if the sun is even real? Or if the old stories are true—about skies painted pink and orange?”

I glanced up at the oppressive ceiling of bruised-purple clouds. It was a suffocating blanket that had smothered the world for longer than anyone could count.

“Maybe it’s just a story,” he murmured, a profound sadness in his voice. He was still staring at the gray expanse. “I try to imagine it, sometimes. The clouds on fire, but with light instead of heat.”

A small, humorless smile touched my lips. “I’m not sure I believe in light anymore.”

His eyes left the sky and found mine. “You should try, Alanah,” he said gently. “You deserve a little hope.”

Hope is a luxury for people who live within walls, I thought.

“One day, I hope I get to see you—” he began, but his words were cut short.

“Sierus! Get back here, boy!” The shout was sharp and angry, carried on the wind from the direction of the town.

Sierus shot to his feet, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “My mother.” He stepped closer, rolling his eyes in a poor attempt at nonchalance. “She’ll have me grinding flour for a week.” He held out the cloth sack. I took it, its meager warmth a stark contrast to the cold in my gut.

“Next time,” he said, a promise and a farewell in one word. With a final, hesitant glance, he turned and jogged back toward the town gates, a fleeting figure swallowed by the gloom.

I watched him go, shaking my head. He’s going to get caught one day, and they won’t be kind.

My gaze fell to the sack in my lap. A wisp of the inky miasma was already seeping through the fabric. Do others see this? Or is it just me? The question was a familiar torment, followed by the cold dread of its unanswered echo. I was too afraid to ask, too afraid of being confirmed as not just an outcast, but a monster.

I shoved the fear down. Thank you, Sierus, I thought, a silent admission I would never speak aloud. But I need arrows more than I need bread.

Clutching the sack, I rose to my feet. A sudden gust of wind whipped my cloak around me, the thin cloth of the sack flapping like a frantic, broken wing. It was time. Stonehollow was waiting. Hopefully.

──────────────────◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯──────────────────

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻! 𝓘’𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝔀.

𝓘𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂, 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓾𝓹𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼. 𝓘𝓽 𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓵𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓵𝔂 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭!