“My child’s life is what I bargained for, Galan.” The words had left my mouth without thought, but while saying them, he’d succeeded in sowing doubt.

I could hear him suck in a long breath, building up what he was going to say next. Except, nothing came. He’d fallen back into his dignified silence.

“I would know if I lost my child,” I continued on, blabbering into the emptiness he provided, but it wasn’t him I was trying to convince. It just couldn’t be right. “He promised my child’s life.”

“Did he, now?” Galan asked while tugging briefly on my elbow, redirecting our now slower advance. He didn’t sound inclined to believe me in any sense.

“Ascelin said, if I seek life, to drink from the bowl,” I reiterated Ascelin’s words, thinking over them as I spoke.

His head turned to look at me, probably so familiar with the wild he didn’t need to see where he needed to go. “Was that all he said?”

It was my turn to fall silent now, thinking back. The memory was beginning to fade now, despite being only. . . hours ago.

All I ask is the life of my child, I remembered saying.

Do not lie to your God.

Galan’s head turned back forward, nodding twice. Was he right?

It couldn’t be true. I’d been old enough to remember when mama lost my sibling. She’d bled in rivers down her legs, but there hadn’t been any on mine when I woke up.

“I’d have seen it, if I lost them,” I murmured, confident he would hear. He walked a breath’s distance away, only a step behind me. It was better than being chased, but I supposed I wasn’t really running anymore.

Galan ground his teeth together, an agitating noise that pierced my ears. “Don’t do that again,” I hissed quietly to him.

“I’ll tell this to you plainly then, since you won’t have it any other way.” He didn’t look at me again as he continued on. “You died, your child with you. One of you came back, and it wasn’t the babe.”

I waited for something to hit me. Agony? Heartbreak?

Yet it didn’t come. I reached for it, fed the startings of it, but couldn’t muster the actual emotion. It was a hint in my chest, a touch of heaviness. It didn’t have the impact it should have.

What came easier was anger. This wasn’t something I’d felt before; this wrath came somewhere deeper, primal and dark.

It didn’t make sense, none of this did. “How could I have died then come back?” I voiced my question, or I thought I did.

When Galan didn’t answer for a long time, I assumed I hadn’t spoken. Was Galan the same as I?

“You don’t live the way you think you do, Claudia. But it is life,” he amended.

“Life is breathing, moving, being. Am I not doing that?” I was still trying to wrap my mind around things, confused by everything.

“You aren’t breathing,” he responded flatly.

I came to a full stop, mouth opening to argue with him. How could I not be breathing? I was breathing, wasn’t I?

I wasn’t.

My lungs didn’t move on their own accord as they should, instead they only responded to my direct thought. They stuttered like muscles that hadn’t been used in a while, wanting to reject the air I sucked in.

Galan had stopped as well, watching intently as I came to the understanding that he was right. I didn’t breathe, not anymore.

“I believe you are still,” he paused, searching for the word. “Changing,” he continued. “It’s been two days already, but I suppose some take longer than others.”

“Two days?” I repeated, eyes defocusing. I’d been dead for two days and now I lived, without my child. Galan was right; I lived, but not the way I thought I did.

Typical of Galan, he didn’t answer right away. We both knew it wasn’t how long I’d been dead that I was really asking.

I was in shock.

“What is this change you’re talking about? Why aren’t I done with mine?” The questions came from me without thought, after a long moment of silence.

“Walk and I’ll tell you what I do know.” Galan watched me closely, as if I could take off and actually make it away from him.

I was questioning nearly everything now; maybe I could outrun Galan this time. Another look in his eyes told me he was expecting this, waiting for it. He wouldn’t make it easy for me.

Weighing my options, I decided Galan would be the easier route. He would, at the very least, take me away from Reddon. Just how I originally wanted.

But it wasn’t for the same reasons.

I didn’t actually know what reasoning I had left for anything anymore. I had truly lost everything, everyone.

I could sense the heavy feeling of it, but like before, it was only a hint of that emotion, a twinge in my soul. Did I still have a soul?

Did it matter?

I couldn’t say that I breathed, but I lived. Not that that mattered either; my unborn child was gone, the whole reason I ran to begin with.

I wondered if time moved as slowly for Galan as it did for me. Nothing changed in the time it’d taken me to get past my thoughts, or perhaps not much time had passed at all.

Taking my eyes from his, I gave him a nod and continued walking. It was almost shameful, this walk.

First, I fled and was captured. Now, I was escorted away from the village I ran from, kicked out.

I was swimming in questions, but which of them should I ask? Galan didn’t seem to be a patient individual, and he didn’t appear keen on answering much.

“What does Ascelin do for the favored, if it isn’t what I got?” I’d grown up believing it to be normal. There’d never been questions about how and why the favored lived as they did, and the rest of us didn’t.

“The favored do not drink Ascelin’s blood directly, like you did.” Galan’s head was dipped, avoiding looking at me again.

“And what does it mean that I did? Don’t be vague, not now.” I was still churning with rage, and it was becoming easier to direct it onto him.

Galan actually laughed now, though it wasn’t out of humor. It was short and hollow, shaking his head as he did. “That’s a good question, that I don’t know the answer to, miss. I can’t say I’ve met or known of any others that did.”

I wanted to strike the man, if I could assume he was a man.

“I only know it means you might be different,” he said, breaking through my thoughts.

My mouth was beginning to ache, but not enough to truly debilitate me from speaking. “And this possible difference, between the favored and I, is why I must be kept from Reddon?”

“I wasn’t aware Reddon meant so much to you.” If it weren’t for Galan guiding me through the maze of trees, I might’ve killed him then.

It didn’t appear we had gone anywhere, but I knew that wasn’t possible, with how long we had been walking. I hoped he knew exactly where we were headed.

Gums throbbing, I bit down on my tongue, preventing a spew of words that might have made him change his mind about guiding me out. “I’ve said it before, but I only take orders from Ascelin. No one in Reddon knows of your fate.”

“They assume I’m dead,” I said for him, hearing the implication in his voice.

“You did die.” His arm swept out in front of him, pushing aside a low hanging branch for him to pass.

“What am I then, Galan? Am I dead or alive?” I couldn’t look at him now, I was too angry. Could I call this anger?

I felt violent.

I wanted to tear Galan open with my own hands, my entire body aching to do so, despite how much I fought against these thoughts. This wasn’t me. I’m not me.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You’re both, Claudia. Do you hear your heart beating in your chest? I don’t.” As Galan pointed it out, I realized he was right, just as he had been about my breathing. “But here you are- walking, being.”

How could I be both?

But I was both. I had no internal functions as a living person did, and yet I was still able to move and talk as one.

“Why wasn’t my child able to do the same?” I asked him quietly.

“I don’t know,” he said just as softly, sympathetic. “I don’t think anyone has ever gone to Ascelin while pregnant, either.”

“And you would know this? With certainty?” I trusted the answers that came from his mouth too easily. It might as well be Ascelin speaking to me now.

“I would.” It was evident that was all he would say on that topic. I wasn’t to question his knowledge, only accept it.

I fell silent then, my stream of questions dammed off. What more was there to know now? None of Reddon and the favored should matter now, not when I had to build anew elsewhere, utterly alone.

It was an easy assumption to make; Galan would drop me off in Silbath, wherever that was, and promptly return home. To his master.

Expect nothing else from a servant of Death, than to do his bidding.

I might actually be talking to Ascelin, through Galan.

Besides an occasional this way or here, Galan didn’t speak again, and neither did I. Time was insignificant, my muscles never tiring, mind never slowing.

I couldn’t tell when night fell, or if it had at all. It didn’t get any darker than it was. Perhaps the thick canopy above covered the wild so thoroughly, that it was permanently dark as night within it.

Galan never slowed or quickened his pace, keeping a steady stride alongside me. I was thankful for the cloak he’d given me, but only for the protection it provided.

I felt no change in temperature, its purpose useless to me. It made sense; if my heart didn’t beat, my flesh could neither be chilled nor burned.

The throbbing ache in my mouth had grown, reaching my jaw and neck now. My throat had tightened long ago with what felt like thirst.

Though he wasn’t trying to do it blatantly, I could see Galan begin to watch me, shooting a quick glance my way frequently. Was he expecting something from me now?

I opened my mouth to speak, but found I couldn’t. Burning pain exploded in my jaw as I cracked it open, voice coming out as little more than a rasp. “What’s happening to me?”

“You’re hungry,” he said, his pace becoming ever so slightly faster. “Don’t speak. It will only hurt you right now.”

Galan’s head turned, scanning the surroundings around us, reading something I didn’t. Then, he said, “We’re almost there.”

Satisfied that I didn’t talk again, Galan reached for my arm, gripping my wrist tightly and pulling me behind him. I wanted to tell him I didn’t need the guidance, but he was right. It hurt too much to speak again.

“The road doesn’t lead to Silbath, if you’re wondering,” he said. I wasn’t. I didn’t care about the damn road, I’d only cared when it meant my child’s life. “And it takes longer. Fiona is an idiot,” he chuckled dryly, talking aloud to himself.

“What’s worse, Claudia?” He continued, posing the sentence like it was a question, when we knew I couldn’t answer. “She knows that. Fiona intentionally took you the longer route. She was never going to get you out of Reddon alive.”

Is, not was. Knows, not knew. Was Fiona somehow alive? She couldn’t have survived an arrow to the skull. It wasn’t possible.

But I wasn’t possible either.

My thoughts drifted back to my child. What would their gender have been? What would I have named them?

I felt a sharp twist in my chest, a single thump, then again, right against my ribs. Galan’s head whipped back to me, his eyes wide in surprise. “What was that?”

I still couldn’t answer him, but it didn’t happen again. Had it been my heart, still fighting the throes of death?

Galan had actually faltered, booted toe stubbing against a root. I’d stunned him, a servant of Death.

I’d shocked myself, but it meant something else to have that reaction come from Galan. He didn’t strike me as the type to be surprised by much.

He schooled himself a moment later, his features settling back into bland interest. I lost faith in Galan then, seeing him react the way he did. My existence was past his scope of knowledge, and it unsettled me deeply.

We were coming to the end of the wild. I saw it now, dull clouds peeking over sloping hills of green, just beyond the treeline. Rain was able to break through the canopy here, not as thick.

I could even feel the grass now, soft between my toes. My pace kicked up, so much so that Galan broke into a trot to keep up with me.

“Claudia, wait,” he was saying, a hand reaching out to grab me. I evaded him this time, quicker than he thought. “There’s sunlight,” he called after me.

What of it? There was nothing wrong with sunlight.

“Stop,” he said, actually tugging on the cloak, right as I broke through the trees and stepped out. He was too late, but he was also wrong to worry; nothing happened.

The heavy clouds above me glowed, illuminated with the sunlight they held back. I felt it then, standing amidst the long, slanted hill; the strongest swell of emotion I’d felt since my revival. Freedom.

Galan hesitantly took a step away from his cover of trees, braving to stand next to me. I’d tilted my head back, basking in the little light that was provided.

“Open your eyes,” he said softly. I could feel the warmth of his breath, fanning against my right cheek. I did as he said, eyes meeting his.

He stood just within my range of comfort, to the point where I could actually hear his heart. It was faint, dull, as if it fought against something to keep beating.

“Look,” Galan’s chin briefly pointed forward, directing me to look behind. Barely viewable over another hill in the distance, I saw signs of high, pointed roofs, hidden in a valley between the hills. “That’s Silbath,” he murmured.

I could hear something new, distant and muffled by the soft patters of rain around us. People, I realized, as voices carried over those hills.

My feet were moving once more, before I had the chance to think it over. I was driven by a force I couldn’t name, an instinct that demanded to be satisfied. With what?

Galan wasn’t stopping me this time. They weren’t from Reddon.

What was so important about Reddon’s people? To be hidden away from other civilizations, without contact?

Or did they know of us, and Reddon didn’t know of them? Perhaps the favored did, but not I or any of those like me.

But now, I was something akin to the favored.

The grass was long here, untouched by nature and man. It slid against my skin, long ends caressing, wiping their wetness onto me.

I could hear Galan following me still, possibly to ensure I actually stepped foot onto Silbath’s soil. He trailed me at a greater distance, without intention to keep pace with me.

It felt as though I was being babysat, observed while I adventured. Reddon was becoming a faded stain on my mind as I practically galloped across the hilltop.

The voices were getting louder, still far away, yet tantalizingly closer than before. Were they headed towards me, or was I advancing on them?

I didn’t know what I was doing, compelled by a nature that was new to me, foreign in its desires. Rain splattered against my cheeks,striking me at speeds that matched my own.

Hoofs beat against the ground, their vibrations tracing across the hills and into my feet. I was running, arms pumping to catch up to them, to get on their path.

“Another damn storm,” a man’s voice was yelling out to his companions, anger in his tone. “Can’t ever escape it in this piss poor valley.”

Cresting over the last slope in my way, I saw them now, their backs to me. A path had been carved into the earth here, and by its tracks, it was commonly used. Civilization, I thought. Silbath?

Three men rode atop variantly colored steeds, dressed in mismatched garb. Certainly not guards- no crest or symbol printed on their cloth.

I’d stopped only to take in my surroundings, no sign of my follower. He’d hidden himself somewhere, or had turned back.

Ahead, the men were going into a natural tunnel of stray trees, the path thinning in the tight space provided.

“Sirs?” I called out, wincing as my voice scraped against my throat, raw and painful. They carried on, unhearing. “Hello?” I tried again, unsure of what I was doing.

One of them rustled in his saddle, looking to his right at the man he rode beside. “Did you say somethin’?” He asked.

He must’ve caught sight of me from the corner of his eye, as he suddenly turned fully to look behind him, and at me. “Aye!” He shouted as he pulled against his reins, his horse complaining as it came to a halt and turned back around.

He was an older man, wisps of gray sprouting within a long beard that touched his chest. The two men abruptly stopped their horses as well, agitated at their friend, until they saw me.

“What the fuck?” Another of them said, a brown cloak half pulled over his head, leaving enough of his face exposed. “What are you doin’ out here miss?” He yelled out over the rain, brows drawn together in disbelief.

“Is she naked?” The last of them asked the older man.

“Shut up, Arne,” came a hissing reply from one of the men, not meant for me to hear. “Are you alright?”

“You need help, miss?” The elder tried again, dismounting himself. He landed in the dirt with both feet, mud squelching beneath his boots.

I stood firmly where I was, confusing rattling me. What was I doing?

He took several steps forward, leaving his horse behind him. His hand was at his belt, fluttering cloak revealing glimpses of a long, glinting sword strapped to his side.

“Miss?” The man’s hand was on the handle now, fingers loosely wrapping around it like a safeguard. “We can help you,” he said warily, unwisely still advancing on me.

If I had any rational thought, any shred of remorse or feeling for this man, I might’ve yelled at him to get away. But I didn’t, instead watching him get closer and closer.

“Isaac,” one of the men that stayed back called out, caution in his voice. “This don’t feel right,” he said.

“I need help,” I said at last, feigning a weak voice I didn’t recognize as my own.

Isaac took several steps forward, now close enough for me to reach out and grab him without moving. His free hand splayed behind him, a wait symbol for his companions.

“What’s your name?” He had a lilt to his voice, changing the way he spoke, ever so slightly different than the people of Reddon.

An urge overcame me, taking control of my body and thoughts. My arm snapped forward, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

I was stronger than I realized, pulling this grown man towards me, effortless as if he weighed little more than a feather. I was too fast for him to fight against me, his face morphing into sudden fear.

Without knowing what I was doing, I had pushed his head to the side, away from me, exposing a pale, muscled neck. The feeling of aching, desperate, hunger grew within me, becoming an unbeatable monster.

My mouth opened, gums ripping within my mouth as something sharp and painful became exposed. The other men were shouting, screaming in fear at the sight of me and their friend, rushing to dismount.

They would be too late.

I knew then what would quell this desire, what would defeat my pain.

A heartbeat later, I’d lowered my head, sinking my teeth into the man’s neck, breaking through his skin effortlessly.