Idelle awoke to the next morning’s bell with nerves buzzing, despite herself. She thought about stopping by the cafeteria, but she still wasn’t hungry and the thought of forcing herself to eat again left her feeling sick. Instead, she grabbed her pack and went down to the courtyard. It was mostly empty, the normal exercises suspended and the group she would be traveling with not yet gathering.

Despite that, a few diligent people were training on their own. Idelle glanced around. She had a while still. Ugh.

Impulsively, she laid her pack down and strode to the edge of the courtyard before breaking into a run. She started slowly, barely more than a jog, but sped up faster and faster as she lapped the court as if her pounding heart could force away her anxieties. In a way it did, by the time she blurred to a stop she was breathing too hard to think straight, her chest aching from the exertion.

She ignored the looks a few of the soldiers sent her way as she flopped down by her pack, gasping. Let them stare. She’d be gone after today, and she was sick of hiding away how much better than them she was.

She blinked at the thought. Maybe that wasn’t fair to them? It wasn’t like she was naturally this talented.

Or was she? Idelle looked down at herself. She still wasn’t sure if her powers were something inherent to her body, or some kind of enchantment or curse, or something related to her amnesia. Whatever. All the more reason to go to the magic academy, maybe they’d have more answers.

A group began to gather a few minutes later, most outfitted with packs like her own, and after a moment she went over to stand with them. A few made conversation among themselves, but she didn’t join in. None of them were people she recognized, and this would be easier if no one paid attention to her.

Finally, the second bell rang, and the man in charge of the expedition gave the order to head out, remarking nonchalantly that they’d just have to do without anyone who hadn’t made it.

They quickly marched through the newly cleared roads (only a few sections still partially blocked, to Idelle’s gratification as she remembered her sore hands) and met up with a large group of wagons and merchants.

Many of them looked a little disgruntled, to Idelle’s surprise, but none of them expressed any verbal complaints.

The wagons were mostly empty, and after a moment’s discussion their commander told them to seat themselves freely aboard. Several of her fellow soldiers looked grateful at the notion, and a few minutes later they were all loaded into wagons and trundling eastward along the road.

The day passed slowly, with none of the talking and singing of the hunting expedition. A few of her wagonmates talked among themselves at times, but Idelle again didn’t join them beyond a few short words.

Instead, she sat off to one side and practiced her basic charms for the first time since the attack. They came much more easily to her, and she found it helped calm her resurgent nerves as she carefully focused, trying to adjust the intensity of a tiny flame and the speed of a little whirlwind above her hand.

They ate lunch on the road, so it was only when they stopped for dinner just after sunset that she dismounted the wagon. She ate a little, to keep up appearances, before turning to one of her wagonmates with a smile. “Hey, I think I see one of my friends over there, actually. Is it all right if I go see if she has space in her wagon?”

He gave her an odd look. “Sure, suit yourself.”

Idelle waved, grabbed her pack and sword, then walked off. She passed quickly through the temporary camp of wagons. No one was on guard, and almost everyone was still finishing dinner. Perfect.

She casually stepped outside the wagons, into the trees, trying her best to look (despite her pack) as if she just needed to urinate.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

She glanced back. No one was looking her way, at least that she could see through the wagons.

A moment later she quietly started to jog away, heading as close to south as she could. The quiet sounds and flickering light of the encamped caravans quickly faded away, and she was left with only the pounding of her heart to keep her company amidst the dark green of the woods.

It took some time before Idelle felt safe slowing back down to a walk. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed or cared about her presence in the group, but she still half-expected pursuers to come racing after her with enraged shouts or even weapons drawn.

Of course, none came, and her fears started to feel silly. Like she’d said to Cateline, maybe she wasn’t as important as she thought.

Her anxiety was eaten away by a rising sense of accomplishment and relief. She supposed she hadn’t really done much, at the end of the day, but she felt as if she’d laid aside a great weight despite that. Whatever plots (real or imagined) that she had been drawn into, they were behind her for now. And she would only be finding them again on her own terms.

A breeze stirred for a moment, and the trees murmured around her. Despite the darkness, broken in places only by the flickers of light from a slim crescent moon and the stars, Idelle found that she could see dozens, if not hundreds of meters around her. The dim trunks were smaller and sparser than the tall evergreens that pooled in the valleys and meadows around Wyrlet, but she felt a sense of familiarity nonetheless.

She knew the things that might lurk here, and they didn’t scare her anymore.

The breeze settled again, and she continued on her way with a satisfied little smile, the soft pat of her footsteps dispersed among the sounds of the woods and the insects that lived in it.

She didn’t sleep that night, only feeling an easily dismissed hint of drowsiness even by the time the eastern horizon began to glow with gentle greens; the barest hints of yellow peeking just above the trees. She paused a moment to take in the sunrise before pushing herself forward again.

Idelle continued her southerly trek for the rest of that day, attempting to put as much distance between her and the city as she could, just in case. But the journey was peaceful; the only animals she spotted were the mundane sort, untouched by magic, and the regular exertion of hiking with her pack enough to stop her mind from wandering.

As the day drew on she found herself descending from the gently rolling hills into a proper plain, where the trees grew sparser still, and it was there she finally ended up stopping to rest by a narrow brook that gurgled eastward. She flopped down next to it, uncaring of the mud, and scooped up the water in cupped hands to drink. A moment later she shrugged off her pack and laid back, staring up at the sky as the tension of the trip slowly drained out of her.

Idly, she raised her hand up to shade her eyes from the sun as it hung low in the sky. To her surprise, her body wasn’t noticeably sore, though she was finally feeling a touch of hunger. She wondered if she might not be happier like this, wandering alone far away from people and their problems.

The thought only lasted a moment before it brought on a surge of guilt. Did she really just want to run away still, after everything that had happened? After seeing her friends die and betray her, even after accepting that she’d killed someone? Idelle closed her eyes and let her hand drop to the ground, breathing in a deep lungful of air.

When she opened them again, they were hard and focused. She owed the dead answers. She wouldn't — couldn’t ignore that. She wasn’t like that, wasn’t like her, a cold-hearted monster who lied to hurt other people.

She thought back to the woman who’d guarded Cecilia’s quarters in Wyrlet. Victoria. That had been her name. Victoria had worried for Cecilia, despite not really knowing her or having any reason to care. The princess had killed her regardless, maybe even with her own hands.

And before that, the arrogant man in the village who’d tried to grab her. Idelle forced herself to remember his name too. Crispin. He’d been no one important, just a teenager who’d let a little bit of power go straight to his ego.

And she’d killed him, attacked him like he was mere prey trying to lash out at her. She barely remembered doing it, but she was certain of it nonetheless. She had some of his memories, after all.

She’d killed him, leaving him no different to all those corpses she’d helped carry out of Wyrlet.

Idelle’s nails cut into her palms, and she realized her hands were clenched into fists. She forced them back open, her fingers shaking slightly. Then she pushed herself back to a sitting position and pulled a loaf of hard bread from her pack. Her teeth tore into it, tearing off long strips of hard crust as the sun started to dip below the trees once more. She promised herself again, as she ate, that she wouldn’t forget.

When, not long after that, she fell asleep under the rough shelter she’d set up according to Crispin’s memories, her nightmares reminded her that she couldn’t forget even if she’d wanted to.