Fire and blood rain from the sky.

I barely leap off the barbarian’s head in time for him to be consumed in flames. His blood-curdling screech resounds in my ear as I roll over to the right flipping to my feet in time to duck and jam my dagger into an oncoming warrior's lower half.

Behind him, surrounded by his loud bellow, I spot her.

The Farrow Witch has one ashy hand extended in the air, her clear eyes unseeing in the middle of utter chaos.

She’s the one summoning the fire.

Between us, warriors on horses clash in a flurry of steel and snarls, cursing as they slice each other down. A red-robed man rides on a self-propelling chariot, pointing his hand cannons and blasting his enemy's heads apart.

As I am his enemy too, I crouch low to the ground so he doesn't see me, as I make my way to the witch.

She and her master must die for this war to end.

Near her, a golden-haired girl is fighting off no less than three Knights by herself, one at her back. She soars kicking one in the face, leaping off him to flip behind another, and then using the second as a shield to block the third's attack.

Then, she too, leaps off his head as he’s consumed in flames.

A large horned beast rides into the middle of battle, roaring and goring as it goes.

It’s hard to tell who our enemies or friends are in this war.

I keep to my mission, to kill the witch, but then five more barbarians charge toward me.

Damn them.

I duck so they clash into each other, then slice. I’m not great with swords, but I'm small and nifty.

My daggers quickly sneak into their sides, buried between ribs and yanked out in rapid succession.

I see their shock after I kill them all. No one ever expects such viciousness from a maiden like me.

My hands, my clothes, and my face are soon stained with blood. It’s endless, a storm of red staining my vision and the vast desert we're in.

I roll out from between their legs and keep running, running for the witch. The Empress must be close. The thought echoes in my mind. She's somewhere sipping wine as we suffer for her war. She must die.

But it's a battle that we’re quickly losing. The Pangeans have more numbers on their side, more magic, more everything. Had they not already wiped out Accacia, the great bastion of the North, we would have a fighting chance but as it is...

We’re fighting a losing battle.

But in the hopeless situation, I still don’t stop. I’m not fighting for anything as honorable as a nation or the survival of mankind. As selfish as it is, I don’t care if everyone else on this battlefield burns.

But the blonde girl, battling only two warriors now, can’t die. Neither can the large silent yellow-eyed mercenary slinging an axe and slicing effortlessly through legions of soldiers.

They are my only friends left.

I've already lost so many. I can’t lose them too, because then I will have nothing.

But fighting is not my strong suit. Plotting is.

The girl is outnumbered so I shift direction, running to her instead.

Soon, I cut my way to her side ready to help her, but she glances behind me and her eyes go wide. She snatches me close and then throws her body behind me. I turn around just in time for the arrow to slice through her chest.

“NO!!!”

My guttural screams get the attention of my enemies but I don’t care. I reach for Savannah right as she falls to the ground.

She’s dead.

And soon I am too.

The knife in my back is strangely painless or maybe I'm just in shock.

And as I look back in his familiar yellow eyes of the one I trusted, my shock is expounded.

Wolf...why?

Did he find out what I did? Is that why?

Or is this his grief for Savannah?

Wolf remains expressionless as I sink to the floor.

As I bleed out, my guilt renders me unable to look at Savannah and face what I've done. So I turn my head instead. I meet the eyes of another fallen soldier, blood spilling out of his wound as he fights for breath. He looks familiar but I have no clue where I’ve seen him, in my first or second lifetimes.

He’s dark-skinned, a Kabanni but I don’t know if he’s from Accacia like me or if he’s one of the few left native to this desert.

As my eyes slide shut, I think I hear him whisper one word...Queen.

----------------------------------------

My soul slams back into my body.

The feeling is as unpleasant as it sounds, my nerves splintering apart as my body struggles to accommodate a new energy. Awareness slithers out from my brain, attaching flesh to bone and identifying all the missing pieces of my consciousness.

Yes, those are my fingers. I can wiggle them.

And my toes. I can curl them up in my too-tight shoes, induced by a combination of poverty and trying to deny the reality of my overly big feet.

And then finally, I get a sense of my face, nose, lips, and teeth. I manage to groan in pain as my eyes flutter open. Luckily, the thicket of branches above me blocks out most of the sunlight, as my eyes adjust to the dark coven I'm in. No, not a cave – the ground underneath me is marshy and muddy, and I can just about hear the skittering insects crawling on it. A slight wind attempts to cool me back to sleep, another hint of the location I find myself in.

But the biggest hint is the almost supernatural darkness that shrouds every single thing.

I'm not just in any forest. I’m in the Dark Forest.

"Adria!" The sound of my name has my heart jumping in my chest, even as I struggle to force my body to move. "Adria, for the love of God, get out of there!"

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Familiarity trickles through my brain at the sound of the voice but it takes a while for me to place it. That's normal. It always takes some time to regain my memories after a reawakening.

I don't recall how I know that, but it's about the only thing I know for sure.

Well, that and the fact that I've transported into my past body.

My consciousness is from a future timeline, and I don't belong here. I should not be here In my timeline, the real timeline, I'm dead, a dagger buried in my back and left to bleed out.

And when my eyes slid shut for the final time, my soul was flung through time and space and landed back here.

Five years in the past.

"Adria." The voice is deep, firm. Worried. "This is not a game. It’s dangerous for you to be in there. It’s almost dark."

The wind whispers around me as though in agreement with what he said. As the information trickles into my mind, I know he's right. The Dark Forest is threatening enough during the day but at night, it holds its inhabitants hostage. Many people are known to wander into The Dark Forest – either by mistake or by desperation – and most of them never make it out. Those who do are besieged with madness and often end up killing themselves not long after.

Right now, I must not be too far inside. I can still see tiny beams of light make their way through the branches above me. I can hear the voice of whoever is standing at the edge of the forest. Therefore, all I need to do is to get up and walk right out.

But I still can't get my body to move.

Panic surges but I calm it with a patience borne of experience. After a transport like this, it takes time for my brain to recognize my muscles and for them to work in tandem again. There’s nothing I can do about it now, and panic will almost certainly lengthen the time of adjustment. The best thing I can do for now is to lay still and try to recover all the memories I lost and piece together what I know about this period.

As I finally realize what scene from my past is currently playing out, I chuckle internally.

It appears I arrived a little earlier than the last time I died. I don’t know what to make of that – if it’s random or if I'm going to wake up earlier each time. I’ve only done this two other times before, and each time I woke up... well, I can't remember exactly when I woke up. That memory will come to me later. But I piece together certain things from the last timeline I lived in.

Being imprisoned for murder.

Watching my best friend die.

Getting stabbed in the back by the last person I would expect.

And now I'm in the Dark Forest about to be mauled by monsters or driven to madness, whichever comes first.

Whoever controls this gift of mine must have a dark sense of humor.

And I know I'm not the one in control of this gift. Someone or something else is. I've tried before to move back in time on my own volition before but it never worked. I can only travel back in time after I die and I cannot choose what year to go to.

It all seems predetermined.

And right now, if I listen hard enough, I can almost hear that someone or something chuckle at my disorientation.

You're right. You're not in control.

"Adria…I can’t come in there after you. You know I can’t. I knew you would be upset about this but this is taking things too far. Please, come out."

God, his whining is getting irritating.

Ok, Adria. I tell myself, ignoring that other voice. Let's continue to think.

This scene places me five years before the year I died. A year before the siege. The person currently shouting my name at the edge of the forest is Caster, the crown prince of the Northern Stronghold of Accacia.

Also my betrothed. Well, ex-betrothed as of now.

If memory serves correctly, the only time I ever ran into the Dark Forest was the day Caster broke up with me, citing the fact that he needed to marry Genya, the Flame Chief’s daughter. I recall the devastation I felt at the time, my heart cracking into two, heartbreak driving me to my knees. Caster was everything to me and I ran into the forest as a final act of desperation.

Ah, silly girl.

After living through so much more heartbreak and betrayal, the memory seems so melodramatic to me.

I'm not heartbroken now.

Right now, I feel nothing but mild annoyance at the fact that I still can't move. I'm sure eventually, the past feelings will return as they did before, but for now, I have to fake it as well as I can because Caster can't know anything is amiss.

None of them can.

Through the branches, I watch the sun shift in the sky slightly. It's enough of a warning.

It will be completely dark soon.

Finally, I'm able to flex my fingers and form a fist and then I move my arm. I roll up to a sitting position and then stand gingerly, leaning against a tree for support. I dust off the front of my smock. The entire thing is likely dirty and my hair is probably a tangled mess. But I can deal with all that later.

For now, I have to walk out and pretend to Caster that I'm the same Adria he knew.

I follow the low-lit path out of the forest, illuminated by shards of a sinking sun. I'm helped by the sound of Caster’s voice as he pleads with me to come out.

As I emerge, I nearly run into him. It appears he was about to take his first step into the forest to come after me.

His amber eyes widen when he sees me, relief flashing through them. His blonde hair is tousled around his head as though he ran his hands through it several times.

He’s still as I remember. Tall, with princely good looks. Chiseled jawline and a serious face often softened with his good humor.

I expect to feel something after seeing him for the first time in so long, but nothing.

I feel nothing.

"Thank goodness," he says as his hands immediately wrap around me, pulling me to his strong body. I try not to flinch but I can’t help but stiffen. I’ve grown averse to touch over the years.

"I was so worried," he murmurs into my hair before pressing a kiss against it. Then he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. "Don’t ever do that again. If anything happened to you, I don't know what I would do with myself."

I don’t speak. I wonder what my first words will sound like in this timeline. It feels like I haven't spoken in ages. But I nod.

Caster stares at my face. I stare back. Concern and confusion overtakes his expression.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," I answer. My voice is rusty, but I still sound like myself. I push out of his arms and step back from him, no longer able to stand his body on mine. He sees the clear rejection and contrition fills his expression.

"I suppose I deserve that," he says and then runs his hands through his hair again. "I’m so sorry Adria. You do not know how hard I fought this. I hate hurting you like this."

Once again, I flash back to old Adria running into the forest devastated. Yes, that Adria was hurt. But she still loved Caster and hated to hurt him. She would immediately see his regret and try to make him feel better.

I try to recover those emotions, so I can at least play at a facsimile of it.

I’m not sure I succeed.

"It’s alright," I say. "I understand."

"You do?"

"You have a duty to your people to pick the best possible match." My voice sounds robotic and I try my best to imbue it with emotion. "Genya is talented, has magic, and is the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the North. I’m nobody."

They're the same words he throws at me sometime in the future, but right now he flinches when I say them.

"Don’t say it like that." He sounds pained. "You're not nobody."

He reaches out but I step back before he can touch me again. "In the grand scheme of things, I am nobody but a lowly civilian. You may love me but it doesn’t change the facts. So I do understand you, and though I’m heartbroken right now, I will heal."

He frowns deeply. "You're not nobody to me, Adria. You're everything. I love you more than life itself. I..." He takes a deep frustrated breath, and some part of me actually feels sorry for his dilemma, caught between his heart and his duty. I know somewhere inside himself that Caster really thinks he does love me. I thought so too. It’s why I was willing to do anything for him, even things that still haunt me to this day.

"I'll speak to my father again," he decides. "Try to get him to see reason. This is madness. He can't expect me to marry Genya when my heart belongs to you."

I should probably tell him not to bother. The King won't change his mind, and attempting to defy the king for me will only bring me trouble.

But I can't tell him any of that, so I simply nod.

Caster offers me a weak smile and then runs a knuckle over my cheek, a move I have to fight not to shake off.

Still, I must not hide my disgust very well, because he asks, "Are you certain you're alright?"

"Yes." I look up at the sky. "It’s getting dark now. I must return home."

And with that, I attempt to walk by him.

His hand reaches out to snag my wrist and it’s all I can do not to shove him to the ground, on pure instinct. But I resist the urge by not turning to look at him.

"You seem different," he says. "Did anything strange happen in the forest?" There's a subtext in those words. People tend to lose their minds after a visit to the Dark Forest.

I shake my head. "I hit my head on a branch and fell. It knocked me back to my senses."

"Did it hurt?" His voice is so gentle, it's hard to imagine how cruel it can be when he's angry. And in a few months, he's going to be furious with me.

But I’m not scared of him.

He's a pawn in this game, just like I am.

I'll need to use him eventually, but that will come later. For now, I just need to stay away from the Prince, to avoid death by the King’s decree.

I retract my hand and continue walking away ignoring his calls at my back, focusing instead on recovering my memories.

Caster is right about one thing though. I’m not nobody. I may not have Genya’s powers or prestige.

But at the end of the day, I may be the only one who can save the North from near-certain destruction.