Why must the trees be so tall? If only Caelyn herself could be of such great height, closer to the firmament that reigns over the earthly world, the wrongs she had experienced never would have occurred. Perhaps Leslie had made such a revelation and, by spending her time in forests, made friends with the trees. In turn, she gained their wisdom and charisma. No wonder that she, in the presence of the shadow, could move when everyone else laid frozen.

That shadow, it had cut her down when she was just a sapling. Everyone else could die if it meant Leslie could live and grow to become the mightiest tree in all the world’s forests. Yet, she died and the betrayers still live. How damn unfair. If only Caelyn could have stood up, Leslie would still be alive.

Beside the road, Caelyn drew herself closer to the ground and rested at the foot of one wise and charismatic tree. She had not stopped walking since last night, in the comfort of the—now destroyed—house. A familiar pain followed the rumble of her belly, but she did not have anything that could make her hunger subside. Her bag, which held the remaining slivers of wolf meat, had been lost during the demon attack. But, it did not bother her overly so. She had experienced worse during the time after father had passed.

Brushing her fingers on the silky surface of her ribbon, she closed her eyes and let memories overwhelm her.

***

She found herself beneath a white blanket. Though it had a couple of holes, it was not too uncomfortable. The fabric, which she had just washed the day prior, was soft and warm enough to be considered cozy on a winter day. She pulled it to her chin and pressed her face deeper into her pillow. Though, she could not quite fall asleep due to the conversations around her.

Once, she would have rolled out of her bed to join one of the conversations, even if it meant staying awake for the whole night. Some of her most fondest moments until that point happened during such times, when she and the friends she had made would sneak out of bed and meet in secret room they found. Then, they would make plans to steal something to add to the museum—a modest collection fancily arranged from stuff they found around the orphanage—or play various games under the glow of candlelight.

One of her favorites was a rather adventurous game that Lucy had created. The game resembled the telling of a story, but instead of the events being set, those playing the game would take on the roles of characters and make the decisions, thus changing the course of the story. Within these tales, she and her friends would fight evil armies, explore ancient ruins, and become gods of their own world. While the others chose to become great warriors and warlocks, Caelyn always took on the mantle of a healing guardian who kept her friends safe in the perils of strife. She was often teased for it. Yet, when the time came, they were thankful of her help.

And that made her happy.

But all that happened many years ago. Since then, everyone had left that room behind and joined their new families—everyone except Caelyn.

She turned around in her bed and stared at the plain white ceiling, which she had been under for almost her entire life. The bell for breakfast had already rang and the room became devoid of voices, but she decided to linger behind to enjoy the raindrops as they hit the windows with that rhythmic song of theirs. Perhaps later she could go outside and sit on the soft grass as the beads of water caressed her skin. Oh, that would be wonderful.

Climbing out of bed, she strolled to door, glancing over her shoulder where her bed sat lonely at center of the room. As much as she wanted to leave this damned place, she would miss that bed. Just a feeling she did not quite understand.

Halfway to the dining hall, she decided to visit the secret room once more. She had not visited it for quite a long time. How was it? Had someone find all the treasure she and her friends had stashed there? Or did all those artifacts lay beneath a curtain of dust? Tucking her hands into her pockets, she entered the library and tried to act casual to not make herself appear suspicious. She examined the spine of the closest book, before moving on the next one. Once she saw that there was no one watching, she slipped to the farthest corner of the library where an ordinary-seeming shelf stood. With a smile, she grabbed to one edge and pulled, as if opening a door.

But it did not budge.

After a while, she pushed a few books aside. The round heads of nails could be seen in the back of the shelf. With a sign, she retreated from the corner and out of the library. A scream rose from within. How dare they seal the entrance to their secret room. Damn them.

Just as she turned the corner, she heard her name being called.

“Caelyn,” Sister Asmode called to her.

“What?” she asked, on the edge of screaming.

The nun ignored her outburst. “You are leaving. Someone finally decided to take you.”

Someone… finally?

Caelyn stared at the Sister, mouth agape. After all those years, someone finally chose her? Tears rolled down her burning eyes. It had to be some trick. Did the nuns just decide to throw her onto the streets? No one had chosen her. How could someone choose her now, when she was older than the other children? It was not possible. It had to be a trick.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“It is not a trick, relax,” said the nun. “Believe me, I was just as surprised when he told me that he wanted you. Of course, I am happy for you, very happy.” She gave Caelyn an insincere smile. “Come along. Meet him. Who knows, maybe you’ll find him unlikable enough that you’ll rather stay.”

As they walked to the front doors, Caelyn wondered why, of all people, Sister Asmode was the one to have stayed while everyone else left. The nun was not too cruel, just quite unpleasant.

Finally, they reached the entrance, where a young man stood with pure white cloak draped over her shoulders. Upon seeing Caelyn, he gave her a warm smile and said, “Caelyn, I was waiting for you. My name is Raphael, but call me father if you believe that name befits me. I hope it does, someday. Come, let me bring you home. You haven’t eaten breakfast, I presume. Here.” He handed her a warm loaf of bread.

***

Waking up from her nap beneath the tree, Caelyn returned to the road and continued walking. Soon, she grew bored of the endless forest and wished for something to break the monotony, even if it meant another dire wolf attacking. Though, if one did, she had nothing to ward it off beside the bow slung across her shoulder. Why was she still carrying it? It was not like she could actually use it in a fight. A stick might have been more useful in that regard.

Perhaps she should turn back and return to the others. After half a night and half a day of thinking, the despair their betrayal had instilled lessened. The man with the golden eyes must have sent them to keep watch, thus they were obligated to act as if they had woken up on the shore just like everyone else. Could she blame them for lying about their past?

But that meant they had only pretend to befriend her, to make her trust them. It was cruel, what they did, but was it evil? Depended on what the man wanted from her and the others. She might have forgiven them if they had revealed themselves and defeated the shadow that killed Leslie before it had done so. Why did they save Caelyn and the others from that demon but not save Leslie from that shadow? Did Leslie mean so little to them that they would just let her die? Caelyn could not understand their intentions.

And Lucis. Of the two, Lucis confused her the most. Courtney, in her act, appeared quite convincing as someone just as lost as everyone else. But Lucis, he barely seemed to be acting at all. From the moment Caelyn met him, his nonchalance presented him as someone in full control and knowledge of the circumstance. He claimed it to simply be observation, but observation could not guide him through a maze of corridors to an underground tunnel leading in the very direction they were headed, and in such little time as well.

Also, the back of his hand did not bear a Mark like Courtney’s. If those who bore that Mark were from the island, then he did not come from the island. It would make some sense if that were so. After all, was he not the one to have compelled her to tell of her true nature? And her reluctance to say seemed quite genuine, though it was hard to tell with Courtney. All she had done, in front of them, was a mere act.

Even then, Caelyn was beginning to suspect that the two of them had not been working together. She wanted answers, something to distract her from the lies she had been told by two of the only companions she had in almost a year. She wanted to turn around, return to the town, and confront them. But then again, if they were truly her friends, they would come after her. The forests were perilous, especially when nighttime came. If Lucis and Courtney came to save her from those dangers, then maybe they cared for her, if only a modicum. Or it could mean whoever masters they served need her in their plans. But, she chose to be hopeful. That was all she could choose.

Would she forgive them? Probably not. They let the shadow take Leslie, after all. Why did they not act then? If they wanted to reveal themselves, why did they not reveal themselves to save her? Were they unable to act, just like how Caelyn was? But then, how could Leslie?

Shaking her head and sighing, Caelyn took another rest against the root of a tree. The bark was hard against her back, but she found comfort in it nevertheless. She stared at the stones in the road, eyes sweeping from one side to the other, and wondered how many of them it took to create such a road of such length. How many years of mortal lives did its creation waste? Why must everything be… so difficult? Why could problems not be solved with something as simple as a wave of the hand?

If father was here, Leslie would not have died and all these mysteries would have been unraveled before such a betrayal could result. All was better when father was alive, and all would have been better. Misery would not have entered her world.

Curse the one to have killed him. Curse the one to have committed the worst of all sins—the ruin of all good in the world.

When Caelyn reopened her eyes, the sky was turning a deep blue, the same shade as the ocean deep beneath light-seeing waters. Her back ached from sleeping against such a rough surface for so long. With a gasp, she rose, heart thumping in her chest. Night was coming soon, and that shadow with it. She had slept for too long. Now, she had to get out of the forest, and quick, or else she would end up like Leslie.

Quickening her pace, she took frequent glances behind her, looking for any shadows among the trees. The air sat still around her, with not a single breeze. Above her, the pale moon illuminated the road but left everything else dark.

She rubbed her eyes, for even after the nap, she was still weary from that sleepless night. With every step she took, her regret for leaving the town grew greater and greater. If she had not ran away, she could have been sleeping in a cozy bed instead of running breathless in the middle of the night chased by some unknown entity.

Then, a whisper came, so close to her ear that could almost feel the breath of whatever phantom that made the noise. More came, like the torrent after the first raindrop. She ran, as fast as she could, with no regard to what her body could endure, anything to escape the entity’s grasp. From the darkness, shadowy hands, as many as the trees in the forest, reached out at her. Trying to ward them off, she wildly swung her bow like a sword, but it simply passed through them. After a while, she gave up.

The hands grabbed onto her arms and legs, dragging her towards the forest. She fought back. If Caelyn died then, father’s sacrifice would be in vain, so would Leslie’s. She could not their lives die a second time, not to this. So, with a shout, she struggled with renewed strength. Instead of trying to escape its grasp to run away, she stood strong, confronting it and fighting against it. Though she was not gaining any ground, she was not getting any closer to the forest.

It was a stalemate.

Soon, the hands began to loosen their grasp, allowing Caelyn to break from their restraint. She ran, not taking any glance back. She was not breathless anymore. On the contrary, she felt full of breath, as if she had just begun running. The trees disappeared behind her, replaced by stone buildings and precipices. Realizing that the whispers had ceased, she slowed down, looking around, before letting out a relieved sigh.

She was out of the forest, finally.