The clearing had served as a brief sanctuary, a fleeting pause before we resumed our trek into the growing chill.

We trudged away from it now, Truman and Alice walked ahead, their muted exchanges carried by the wind, while I followed silently. Truman’s broad shoulders, laden with most of our supplies—his idea—gave the impression of capability. His frame cast a dependable, if unsteady, silhouette against the pale horizon. Beside him, Alice moved with rigid precision, a figure carved from frost.

“I believe this way should be correct,” Truman said, his voice steady but unconvincing.

The way his head turned every so often, his gaze scanning the horizon with faint uncertainty, betrayed just how lost he truly was.

Out of my two companions, Alice was the sight to behold. She couldn’t mask her irritation at Truman’s obliviousness—or my passivity. Her poker face, usually so formidable, was cracked in worry. She glided across the uneven terrain, the wind toyed with the hem of her coat and her unbound hair, but she held herself upright, her arms tightly crossed against her chest, her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes unsure where to look.

The piercing chill seemed to shrink the world, as if hoping to erase our presence.

The chill was growing fiercer, nipping at exposed skin and seeping through layers. Snow hadn’t begun to fall yet, but the dense, grey sky warned it wouldn’t wait much longer.

Under different circumstances, I could not stand still at the thought of snowfall. It was my most beloved state of the world. To be lost between the symmetrical heaven and earth, and to be pecked with every fallen, extraordinary snowflake.

But there was nothing but hollowness in my chest. Like I was unable to muster the excitement.

I tilted my head upward, studying the sky.

This aimless wandering was part of my plan. But it was spanning too long, making me wonder if I should omit my desire to build a docile image for myself in this journey in favor of expediency.

A pair of pink eyes abruptly filled my vision, startling me out of my thoughts.

“Miss Alice?” Truman called from a few steps ahead, glancing over his shoulder with a bemused look.

“You,” Alice said, her tone sharp.

I blinked, leaning back slightly. “W-What is it?” I asked, feigning uncertainty.

She narrowed her eyes, her words measured. “Are you selfish, or are you unaware?”

My lips parted in mild surprise at her bluntness. Straight to the point, as always. I was nearly impressed.

“I’m not selfish,” I said, tone faintly defensive, like I stated a fact. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Now, now…” Truman interjected, turning to survey the horizon. “I say save your quarrel for a later date…”

“I saw it,” she insisted.

“I don’t understand,” I frowned. “Are you simply picking a fight?”

“I am certain that would lead to trouble. She is a noble, Miss Alice.”

“I no longer am.”

“She no longer is.”

Alice and I retorted in unison.

“… oh, right,” Truman realized. “But fighting in this weather would be folly. Why don’t we press on?”

The accusative glint in Alice’s eyes turned into exasperation. “You have something that could help us.”

True.

“She has a map.” She pointed to my leather bag.

Also true.

“I do?” My eyebrows shot up.

“You have paper in there, that’s true.” Realization dawned on Truman’s face. “Is it a map?”

I sighed, rolling my eyes for good measure. “Oh, you must mean that crumpled piece of parchment I borrowed from the coachman…” I opened the bag, shoving my hand in, and pulling out the map. I chuckled, almost mockingly. “It’s not a ma…” As I opened the paper, I flipped it over. “Oh, it is!”

On the backside of the parchment piece, I had written the to-do list I prepared for my escape. It was now scratched out, barely readable.

“Wow, I have a map,” I stated, nodding my head in confidence. “This is useful, is it not?” I handed it over to her, whose frown was lost between doubt and pity as she received it.

“I can’t believe—” She cut herself off with a sigh. Meeting my gaze again, she hesitated a moment before extending her hand. “I won’t believe it. Just so you know.” She assured me, then moved away from between me and Truman.

“Great job, Lady Fugitive.” Truman gave me a reassuring nod, which I inclined my head to with a smile.

We trailed after Alice, peering over her shoulder.

“Can you read it? Will we survive?” I nudged, receiving no response. “You’re holding it backward,” I said, fully aware she wasn’t.

Looking at the parchment, I doubted anyone could tell it had been tampered with. A slight grin tugged at my lips, as I watched the two so earnestly analyzing the product of my surprisingly impeccable forging skills.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Looking at the parchment, I doubted anyone could tell it had been tampered with. A slight grin tugged at my lips, as I watched the two so earnestly analyzing the product of my surprisingly impeccable forging skills.

The map, at first glance, was authentic. Smudges and creases gave it a worn appearance, and the faint marks I’d added hinted at previous use. A carefully placed tear had neatly removed Sail, the nearest village, located north of Fokchik, from view.

“The nearest haven appears to be…” Truman began, tracing a finger along one of my carefully falsified trails.

Faint, hastily sketched marks in coal traced a western path, just enough to suggest the map had been used by a traveler.

“Jeozdam Village,” Alice finished, pointing at the swirling storm clouds in the distance.

The two swallowed in unison.

“Korpisat, help us… how unlucky.” Truman mumbled, taking in a deep breath.

“We must go quickly before it reaches us,” Alice said, her tone flat but a flicker of worry growing within her eyes.

I watched the two puzzle over the forged map, the anxiety tickling my senses unable to break my confidence.

‘Step two: Get to Jeozdam before Estelle Pureheart’ was well underway.

~

A few hours of panicked quick steps later, heading in Jeozdam’s direction, it was mid-day, and we needed a rest. Or, to be more specific, I need a rest.

“Aah, my legs,” I whined. “My back… it might be broken…”

“Can one break their back from walking?” Truman turned to Alice, genuinely curious.

“No. Don’t mind her, Sir Truman.” Alice replied, not looking back. “She is behaving like an overgrown child.”

I huffed, dragging my feet over the dirt. I was already sort of cramped up from the action of the other day, but this? My back was practically on fire—no, my entire body felt like it was ablaze.

This is not a hike, this is hell.

“People tend to children, do they not?” I snapped. “Might I remind you, I am injured. My wound requires fresh dressing, and also, I’m not a damn athlete.”

I hate to be whiny, but this has to be a form of torture.

I didn’t account for just how frail Penelope Ashdown’s body was; the faint cramps I’d ignored after the incident had only worsened.

“The exertion will help ward off the cold,” Alice remarked. “Do you not despise the cold?”

I hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod, though, in truth, I didn’t mind it. Perhaps Ashdown did.

“Then persevere.”

“Fuck,” I mumbled, pressing my lips together. I glared at Truman’s annoyingly calm expression—barely two drops of sweat on his face. Alice looked a bit tired and red, but she didn’t seem nearly as miserable as me.

You can’t use your money recklessly, Penelope.

I stopped in my tracks. “Sir Truman, I will pay you if we pause to rest.”

But what’s the use of money if not to save me pain?

Truman perked up and turned to me. A glint of light stirred his bored eyes awake. “You will?”

“If you agree, yes,” I answered, slightly surprised he took me seriously.

“Well…” He smiled, turned to look at Alice, then turned back to me with less bright a smile. “It will allow us to keep pace with Miss Alice’s schedule, and you will get your rest.”

“Sure,” I immediately agreed.

He took the load on his back off and split it between his hands. Alice grabbed onto a box, freeing his right hand, a distasteful look in her eye.

I’ll repay them. With survival. It’s fine.

“You two are simply…” Alice mumbled, shaking her head, holding the box through the threads it was wrapped in.

We solemnly shook hands, and then Truman kneeled and gestured for me to hop on, which I gladly did.

"It will be a hassle if we must carry your noble self the entire way," she remarked, glancing up at me.

“Remember how I saved us from hopeless wandering? I’ve earned this break.” I shrugged, feeling a migraine strengthening in my head.

“She is quite light. I am well,” Truman nodded at her. “My services are ever at your disposal, Lady Fugitive.” I could feel the businesslike air through his tone.

He exhaled and the journey continued.

“We will need to determine each person’s role in this venture… divide the tasks,” Alice suggested thoughtfully.

“Good thinking,” I muttered, distracted by the leather water pouch I was trying to pull out of my bag.

“I shall see to rationing the food and preparing camp,” She counted on her fingers. I listened, taking a sip. “Any foraged goods shall pass through me; to ensure they are not poisoned. As for how long we shall travel and when we rest, that will be decided once we reach that forest.”

She pointed to a cloud of black in the distance, it was so small from here we could barely perceive it.

I silently offered Truman his flask, which he took with a nod and drank.

“We shall rely on your protection should any beasts appear, Sir Truman. You are the most physically apt here.”

“And a knight,” I added.

So lucky.

Truman and Alice exchanged a look, and he turned away to look elsewhere.

I frowned at the gesture, but let it go. This is what happens when you travel with strangers.

“I am also adept at foraging for herbs,” Truman added, passing the flask to Alice, who took it without much acknowledgment.

I nodded, tucking a few stray strands of hair that had escaped from my cap.

Alice glanced at me, her expression flat, as if preparing to speak. I quickly let my hair go and steadied myself.

“I’m useful,” I said with an innocent air. “I got us the map.” I smiled, though it was met with silence.

Alice continued her steady pace, her eyes still fixed ahead, while Truman kept stride with her.

“I do recall you mentioned an ability with wood carving. A skill that dawned on you recently.”

I wouldn’t consider it much of a skill, but…

“Sure. I can carve us bowls for supper, or perhaps a chair… a knife?” She shook her head, not sparing me a glance. “Moral support?”

Truman let out a light, breathy chuckle, offering a grin in Alice’s direction, which she met with a distinctly unimpressed look.

Maybe I leaned into the incompetent air too hard…

“More hands can’t be a hindrance,” Truman remarked, waving a dismissive hand. “She will certainly repay us when she is able.”

“Something tells me she enjoys the prospect of being a burden,” Alice mumbled.

“I don’t see what you imply,” I shrugged, cracking my neck, and warding off the chill that was settling back in.

It sure is good to be rich for once.

Around twenty minutes later, I thanked Truman for his kindness and got off his back, completing the remainder road on foot.

I followed in silence, my own shadow slipping between theirs, smaller and almost indistinct, as though I were fading into the growing grey.

As she brought up the carving, it crossed my mind earlier that I did have one more name in my past life. One I had hated for the longest time.

“Look, it’s Pinocchio!” The giggles of those demon classmates echoed in my mind, followed by the peculiar memory of my father’s only advice session… which somehow led to me embracing the nickname.

I guess it was one of those stupid things that grew on me over time. And beatings.

The shadows of the trees on the frozen ground turned my attention to the view. Another sad, haunted-looking forest with blackwood and little to no leaves. This one’s ground was frozen over, completely so.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a figure appear among the trunks. Shifting closer to us with loud steps.

Is that a person—