“Nastiest place to be after dark is on your own.”

- Valorian proverb, author unknown

When I woke up, darkness greeted my blurry vision. Pain stretched along every part of my body like a second skin. Bruises marked up what flesh I could see through my ripped uniform, and the various scratches that wild woman gave me had started to fester and bubble unnaturally. Though I was heavily under-equipped to diagnose such wounds, even I knew it was probably poison of some sort. The haughty wench likely laced her polish with the stuff like some sadistic creep.

I swept my hair back from my eyes. Warm metal pressed against my face, and I had a moment of shock as the foreign feeling contrasted with the sensation of my hand touching my face.

“Oh, it’s you,” I croaked out of my dry and sore throat. The gauntlet had apparently decided now was not a good time to return to its much more manageable bracelet form.

“What is your problem, anyway?” I asked the device, glad to have something to focus my fear and rage on, rather than my current situation. For if I acknowledged the pain I received along my ribs with each breath and then the nagging sensation that I was currently being watched, I might give up right then and there.

“You come to my aid sometimes, but when I ask for your help, you're as dead as a doornail. HOW DO I MAKE YOU WORK?!” I yelled, but when the natural sounds in my vicinity grow quiet, I shrink into myself.

That’s not good.

A distant howl has me scanning my immediate area. I am definitely near the bottom of the large hill where Halistair is set. I craned my neck and saw the distant torchlights of the guard as they patrolled the high wall.

Wait, if it’s night, then that means…

“Oh, shÿnka,” I cursed as the full extent of my situation landed on me all at once. I was outside the city after dark. Worse, I was wounded alone, and had no real training on how to survive the night. The gates would be closed by now, and there was no way I had the kind of leverage to get the guards to open up for me. I was an Orion first-year, and there was a good reason they kept the gates closed at night.

The Wilds were nearby.

Another howl split the evening air, and the hairs on my skin stood to attention.

“Okay, Thea. Think. What do you need?” I got up, and felt misery incarnate herself in my left ankle. It was like an iron poker fresh out of a forge decided to call my joint home for the night. I gasped and fell to the ground in a heap.

I breathed shallowly, convinced anything more might aggravate the wound. I was no stranger to sprains, however, and so after a few minutes, I coaxed myself into testing the joint for any broken bones. My left hand gingerly pressed against the Pufflemur-sized injury, but felt nothing that would indicate a shattered foot or leg.

“I need shelter and water,” I listed off, distracting myself from the pain. “And I need a brace.” I glanced around in the dim light of the moon and stars. The celestial body was hardly at half-crescent and so the forest floor was more shadow than illumination at this point. My hands felt for any fallen branches or the like, and eventually I found a sturdy stick that suited my purposes.

“Come on, you hells-cursed thing,” I spat at the dead tree limb. I yanked and tried to break off some of the unwieldy twigs from its sturdy stock. To my annoyance, each time I pulled on the Coldor’s-cursed things, they just stretched like the option of breaking off was foreign to them. I huffed. “Well, I am screwed.”

I glanced around the clearing, desperate to see a branch with an alternative bark to this strange material.

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What sort of tree bends and stretches?!

Unsuccessful, I hold up the thick branch. An idea forms in my mind, and I start to chuckle a dark and maniacal laughter.

If this works, I am a genius.

My fingers moved in quick but intentional movements. Twig by twig, I started to tie the short branch along my ankle and up my leg. I looked down at my handiwork and grinned. The flexible sapling stretched tightly around my joint and dug into the leather of my boots, but I ignored the mild discomfort. I gingerly got to my feet and breathed in the rich and foreign air of the forest.

I was so used to the stuffy aromas native to Halistair that the tastes of fresh soil and pine on the wind filled me with a strange sense of awe. This, and not the tight streets of my home, was what I was made for.

Just so long as what I was made for doesn’t kill me tonight.

A howl in the distance shook the childish wonder out of my bones. I felt eyes on me, though when I turned and looked, there was nothing there. I waited and tried to hold my breath to better hear the sounds of the forest, but again…

Nothing.

Adrenaline got my weary muscles into motion again. I limped toward where I saw the faint glints of everglow sconces high up the hill, hoping proximity to the fortress city might deter the worst of the monsters that prowled these woods.

It was slow going, but I made it about a quarter mile before I had to stop. I had no idea how I had fallen this far.

Did someone drag me?

I breathed in the night air. The moon above illuminated a lone boulder in the middle of this small clearing. It rose proudly toward the sky like some ancient and noble creature. I leaned against and caught my breath. Each lungful was pained from the bruises across my ribs and chest, so I was grateful for the sturdy surface that helped stop the world from spinning too much. There it was again.

Eyes.

I searched the shadows. No movement or sound reached my wary attention. Ahead, I was able to make out the barest signs of movement on the ramparts of my home. The sight of them renewed my fading strength and I pushed off the immovable object with my good hand. The trees danced in the night sky and a chill swept across my sweaty back from the overager wind. I picked up my pace.

After several more minutes and a world of curses for every root that tripped my uneven gait, I made it to the edge of the forest. I sighed with relief, grateful to see the imposing walls rise up before me. It would still be quite a climb to reach the crest of the hill, but it was one I was willing to make. Anything would be better than that forest right now. Yes, it was beautiful, but that didn’t make it any less dangerous.

I took a few steps from the tree line, my impromptu brace holding up under the duress I put it under. Still, each fall of my boots against the ground jostled the swollen ankle and sent a spike of electricity up my leg. Something stirred the brush behind me and I moved farther from the trees, constantly watching my back as I exited the forest completely. Here, in the space at the bottom of the hill, only rocks and grass could shelter me.

Good. That means nothing else can get shelter either.

I could shiver tonight. It would be miserable, but I would survive. Me and my family had endured worse. What I couldn’t deal with right now were the unknown threats that lurked in the darkness of that dense wilderness. My right foot pressed down against a dry twig and it snapped loudly. I winced, but nothing shot out from the darkness. I took another step back.

An arrow thudded into the ground beside me, not three feet from where I stood. I twirled, alert to any foes that might have chosen to hide behind a boulder perhaps. I moved back on instinct from the arrow that glowed faintly with runes along its shaft. If I unearthed the head, I was sure I would find even more enchantments on it as well.

Another arrow slammed into the ground.

“What the hells?!” I yelped as fear threatened to drown me. “Where are you?!” I whispered loudly into the night. I took another step back. A third arrow struck, this one slamming into the craggy soil between my feet. I finally caught the angle of the projectile and my dilated pupils rose high into the air.

Two warriors stood along the rampart, and one had a longbow aimed directly at me.

They think I’m a monster, I realized with horror. My plan to hunker at the foot of my home dissipated like morning dew under the summer sun. I glanced back at the forest and knew my situation had just gone from terrible to suicidal. Panic leeched what willpower I possessed, and I found it harder to breathe in the humid air. My head tilted up one last time at the high walls of Halistair before I faced the forest and began to limp toward it. An old anger started to churn in my stomach.

I am not going to die here.

The sentiment burned within me. I am not going to die here. I will not be some snack for a monster. Not now, not ever. A thought struck me and I chuckled darkly. Besides, Kaelin would kill me if I died out here.

“Okay, creepy forest of death. Time to teach me the ground rules,” I declared to the shadows that nipped at my feet, taunting me with what they might hide in their depths.

“I am not afraid of you.”

I walked into the forest.