These two strangers, sitting around the fire, both sound asleep, perplexed me to a degree.

Truman, assigned to the night watch, slumped by the fire, his chin tipped forward and a faint snore escaping his lips. Alice, ever disciplined, lay perfectly poised on her makeshift bed, her stillness so complete it felt unnatural.

I pretended to sleep, but my thoughts wouldn’t let me go—not for a moment. Incessant, anxious, grounding thoughts.

After my headache calmed down a tad, I was able enough to turn on my back, though my injury pricked me, strangely numb. I stared at the clear sky, searching the distant stars. Perhaps I could find comfort in watching something so vast and unchanging. Something familiar.

I let my mind obsessively play the horrific occurrences. I recalled it again and again, until it didn’t make my heart clench at the memory of the dagger in my hand, of the countless corpses and haunting stillness. Until my eyes stopped tearing up when I recalled the oath I took. To live and let live, to respect human life, to be a person of utmost nobility, if only towards life.

But life feels like a concept I barely understand anymore.

Only the suffering was left of it all. The oath, my past life.

When I really pondered it, I could admit to myself that it wasn’t the oath gnawing at me. It was the years I had spent shaping myself to uphold it—years that now felt hollow and wasted.

How strange it was to only now care for something I had hated so thoroughly…

Well, all of that was meaningless now.

No longer Penelope Ashdown, nor Penelope Horne. I had shed both skins, and what was now left I could only describe as… tired. Someone sure of what they want and how to obtain it isn't supposed to feel so hollow inside, are they?

Yet, somehow, this vague state felt truest to myself.

My eyes drifted off the sky's darkness and shifted to the bonfire, as I turned on my side. The two who saved me lingered in my peripheral vision, their presence stirring the question I hadn’t dared to ask.

Why did you help me?

I wondered about many things, in reality. Too many to count. But I didn’t have the power to ask it all away. None of it. Not right now.

The first step, Surviving, had been fulfilled. Everything had gone according to my initial plan, despite all of the variables along the way. I was where my map could point me, some miles ahead of the final destination, but near enough. Now I needed a new plan. A better one.

One where I can finally live for myself. And most importantly, one where I fulfill the purpose for which I must have been reborn.

I hadn't questioned my reincarnation before today. I had attributed it to many things. A stroke of luck. A blessing from the god. An opportunity to create a life I wouldn't feel hollow leaving behind... But the more I thought on the miracle I was living, the clearer it became.

There is someone I must see.

Minutes more went by, when I noted the disgusting color on my hands once more. I stared at my bloodstained palms, a bitter taste in my mouth.

"It doesn't matter. I'm free," I murmured.

But freedom, I realized, was only the first step.

I let out a steady breath, wishing I could’ve been happier with that thought.

~

By dawn, the sky was a pale gradient of deep blue near the top, softening into lighter shades of pink and lavender at the horizon. The air was sharp and crisp, the light brittle as the sun began to rise, but not yet strong enough to melt the cold. The frozen grass sparkled faintly, each blade edged with tiny ice crystals that caught the first light.

The world felt still, the ground stiff with cold, a faint mist adding to the quiet. It was a moment frozen in time, waiting for the warmth of day to finally break through.

Well, it would have been that, if not for the repetitive ripping sounds I made as I took generous bites from a stale loaf of bread I had packed in my leather bag.

I sat on my brittle sleeping mat, the warm embers left from yesterday’s fire keeping me from shivering, the fogginess of my mind momentarily settled thanks to hunger so strong it blinded me.

I waited for one of my unfortunate companions to wake up, tidying up all the details of my plan which had slightly shifted due to the early monster attack.

Alice had whimpered through most of the night, caught in what sounded like a nightmare. I let her have at it. People should deal with their own crap.

And Truman… Well, he’s been out the longest.

The aggressive munching I was in the middle of was actually not completely due to my hunger. Part of why I was being such a loud eater was a poor attempt to prompt these two to wake up.

Thinking about Truman carrying me on his back the entire way here was guilt-tripping me into mustering some sort of polite consideration for him.

It’s fine. Another hour won’t ruin the way of my plan.

I kept my eyes on the landscape. Thin patches of snow speckled the ground, and in the distance, beyond the barren grey hills, a fine curtain of white was beginning to fall.

It wouldn’t be long before the storm reached us.

My initial plan was more of a rush job, sketched out on the carriage ride from the Capital: a careful how to break out of prison. And last night, after I’d finally managed two coherent thoughts in a row, I upgraded that into a step-by-step plan to achieve a peaceful life.

My new plan contained three phases. And the first was maybe the most dangerous. I needed to get to Jeozdam Village. Quick as I can. Meaning, I had to drag these two unfortunate, temporary companions and dive into that upcoming storm, face first.

I passed a hand over my face, rubbing my eyes, which felt sore and slightly puffy from all of the silent tears leaving them all night.

Reaching out, I plucked two frost-kissed blades of grass, their icy touch waking my stiff, almost-numb fingers.

Why can’t I ever catch a break…

I put the cold leaves on both my eyes. The cold burned against my skin, but at least it woke me up.

Under normal circumstances, I would opt for a safer plan, and do whatever I could to ensure my survival first. But the stakes are high, and my purpose, my real purpose, has been clear to me the moment I looked into that mirror and saw a new chance in life before me.

The stakes are high. I needed to get to Jeozdam. Or, more precisely, it was to get to him before Estelle Pureheart and her fiancé did.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Supposedly, Estelle isn’t scheduled to arrive for another month—not until her melodramatic reunion with William is over, where he forgives her for cheating on him. But I wasn’t about to bet on luck. That kind of fortune was reserved for protagonists like her. Over-preparation was my safety net, and I intended to build the sturdiest one I could.

Phase one would start as soon as these two woke up.

“What on earth are you doing?”

A groggy voice cut through my thoughts, making me drop the two leaves I held on my face. Her pink eyes, still bleary from sleep, blinked at me in confusion.

Finally.

I didn’t bother answering, ignoring her in favor of finishing my last bite of bread.

Alice shook her head and turned to Truman. “Sir Truman,” she called, her voice sharper.

He stirred, grimacing in his sleep. “Sir Truman, please wake up.”

While I chewed the last of my bread, Truman jolted awake, straightening and swiftly wiping away nonexistent drool on his face.

“Zelba, I fell asleep,” he passed a hand over his face, his golden eyes shimmering faintly.

I pursed my lips, deciding I should get up first. However, before I could fully spring up, unexpected dizziness darkened my vision, and sharp pain followed, climbing up my back to my neck.

I gripped my head and sat back down, regaining my balance.

When I opened my eyes, Alice was staring at me, her thin eyebrows slightly arched. Truman, meanwhile, gave me a look mildly tethered between grogginess and concern.

“I…” I scratched my chin, trying to untie the knot in my throat.

Step one: Don't die from infection.

“Alice, I might need your help with something,” I said, words tasting bitter.

“I think we are all in need of help as of right now,” Truman said, looking around at the quiet, eerie clearing. “We are in the middle of nowhere,” he scratched the light beard on his chin.

“I have a more... urgent issue. I was injured that night. Here,” I pointed to my back. "And I'd like you to help me treat it," I said, taking off my coat.

“Injured?” Alice repeated, giving me a mildly interested look.

I groaned, realizing why it was suddenly burning up. “I think I…” I think I ripped it while trying to stand. Fuck. “It hurts like a bitch…” I trailed off, unbuttoning the top of my blouse.

“Sir Truman, would you like glasses to watch?” Alice expressed, walking towards me. He gave me an encouraging nod and stood up.

“I will… forest, then.” He pointed to the woods and followed his direction.

The buttons refused to open up, making me grunt and grab the bottom of my shirt to take it off.

“Calm down, lady Penelo... My lady.” Alice crouched by my side.

Once the shirt was off, I began undoing the bandages which covered almost up to my neck, giving my back to Alice.

“Fetch some wood while you are at it, Sir Truman,” Alice said, in a voice too low to reach a human being with normal hearing from this range.

But Truman caught it, and even yelled back “Will do!”

I turned to look at Alice, and she was already searching within my leather bag. The peculiar piece of parchment rustled against her hand, and her gaze caught it, but she moved and grabbed the ointment bottle instead.

I guess step two will have to wait.

Holding the front of my chemise against my front in case someone wandered into the clearing. I shut my eyes tight and tried my hardest not to grunt at every turn.

“The injury is not so broad. It is not infected or anything, but it is deep, and partially bleeding. It might even scar, perish the thought,” Alice mumbled, analyzing. “Your mana is likely exhausted with the jaw injury healing... It will take months to restore it naturally, my lady.” There was a hint of malaise in her tone.

"Restore the injury or the mana?"

"The mana. Once your injury heals naturally, which might take a few weeks, there is nothing your mana can do after that." She said.

"... If it's well treated, I'm sure it won't scar." I hoped.

“I shan’t take accountability for any pain you feel. I preface as much.”

I could feel the air shift behind me, making me realize she was reaching in to start the treatment.

“—Wait!” I turned to her, worry laced in my tone. “H-Have you done this before? Will you do it right? You wouldn’t…” What if she hurts me on purpose? “Channel your pity. I never wronged you.” I nearly commanded, my heart beating so loud she might hear it.

Being in this position in front of someone who must harbor all but compassion towards me, I couldn’t win against my paranoia.

“I for one, have never been a supporter of the Korpian Records. I was heartbroken to hear you would accompany me to prison when you were completely innocent. It’s certainly not my fault that you are here, okay?" My voice was more ingenuine than I wished. "If you were in the same position, I would have helped you. And done it best I could.” I said, holding her gaze with determination.

Not sure if I meant those words completely, but she didn’t know that.

“Turn around, lady…” She pushed my shoulder forward, making me give her my back again.

She began tapping a wet cloth against the wound.

“You didn’t answer me.”

My mind raced with the thought that she could easily make a mistake—accidentally or otherwise. "Alice." I insisted.

“I have enough experience in this field to make me a lady-in-waiting, Miss.”

"So you've done this before?" Relief unintentionally slipped into my tone.

"... Yes."

Her hand was lighter than I expected. I gave in to her aid. I asked for it. I'm being an idiot. She probably knows what she's doing. Okay. It's going to be fine, surely.

A few minutes later, she was done.

Alice shoved the material into the leather bag again, and with a look that betrayed slight disdain, she spoke, “As my master for all of these years… You should have been aware of my capability in this field. This is certainly not the first time I treated… you.”

My eyes widened as I stared into her eyes, finally realizing what her cold gaze was trying to communicate to me.

“Y-You..." She stood up, her pink gaze synonymous with the vivid pink painted on the sky above us.

The look you have when you can’t say what’s on your mind.

Well, we can be two at this game.

"Alice," I called, and she listened with the slightest of anticipation on her expression. "What ability does the color of your eyes give you?"

Alice’s expression froze for the briefest of moments before a flicker of anxiety crept into her composed demeanor. Her lips parted as if to respond, but the words never came. Instead, her eyes darted to the side, as though searching the horizon for an escape from the weight of my question.

"I see no point in your question after so many years I have been at your service. Does the color displease you all of a sudden, miss?"

She stopped calling me Penelope, or anything else she did before. The mere thought of what that meant was... strange. I shouldn't care if she did, I had nothing to lose. But I'm sure did, which was why she was being so backhanded.

I hated backhanded conversations.

I won’t see her once we part ways soon anyway. No need to live through unnecessary conflict.

"Simple curiosity," I muttered. "I'm sure you experience it too."

I wore my chemise again, the air's chilliness reaching my bones. With care, I pushed my hands into the sleeves of the heavy coat.

"You are welcome for the free medical care, miss." She gave me a petty glance and turned towards the woods, from which a large, familiar silhouette emerged.

I clicked my tongue, leaving her cheekiness unattended. I tucked the stray hairs on the sides of my face behind my ears and took in consistent breaths, trying to brush off the pain as I stood up to gather my belongings.

“I found berries!” Truman, who'd emerged out of the woods, yelled out. His breaths formed white clouds around him as he approached. “And wood!” He raised both hands, one holding a bundle of wood and the other holding the front of his shirt up from his abdomen, his shirt holding a pond of berries.

Both Alice and I watched Truman approaching. In agreed quiet.

“We’re all dead now…” Alice let the thought out.

I looked back towards her, then towards Truman again.

"I prefer 'we're all free now.' It's more open-minded."