Chapter Text
Chapter 3: I should've stayed in bed
A year later, in Oenotria.
“Princess Sania, wait!”
She jumped through the window, catching a tree branch conveniently placed on her way down, landing on her feet the next instant. She ran away.
She had been set to fail the very minute she stepped on this island.
Oenotria was a small island known for its peculiar geographical position and its mines. The island was a volcanic island and created pits of marine rhyolite, a beautifully glassy and iridescent rock that everyone wanted.
She once had been gifted with a set of hairpins made from marine rhyolite. Craved with swirls and stars, it was something really precious and expensive that she holds dear. The fact that Naksh had been the one gifting her this only increased their values. But she never put them on, too scared to break them.
Standing tall at the meeting point of three different seas, Oenotria had its own microclimate, a spring island where the sun always shined. Its marine environment was the richest, fishes of all the three seas came here to mate, exotic trees sprouted on the beach. But because of the meeting of the three seas, the weather was unstable, always changing and hard to navigate.
Considering the dangers, the fact that Sania managed to convince her father to send her here was mind-boggling.
So, an exotic island almost unreachable.
The thing with this kind of island was that as people couldn’t reach the island, they started speculating. The romantics always pictured it as an island full of wonders, colorful flowers, interminable towers, and unorthodox minds. A paradise for forbidden love, eloping couple and bastard children. Freedom was the key in their story.
The reality was much more disappointing.
Oenotria was a water city organized in concentric rings. At the bottom, the streets were flooded, giving the impression of living with the tide. The top was where the higher up lived, and coincidentally where she was going. And the more she went through, the more she found herself discontented.
Everything was disproportionate. Houses were tall, trees were large and the markets, noisy and endless. Women wearing strange masks rose their skirt up when someone looked their way. Men lurked in the dark alley, a glint of metal in their hands. Slaves used as means of travel. Children covered in soot and trembling in the wind.
Oenotria favored the powerful and ate the weak, throwing them in the pits to dig out more stones and die. It also favored men over women and as a woman, the people only saw a mare, a bride to marry, someone unworthy of power.
The flutter of clothes, the splash of water and the creaking of a door were the sounds that followed her. She gritted her teeth. She wasn’t fond of being prey.
Zigzagging through the crowd, she hoped to lose them. Her feet slapped against the cobblestones, always striding forward and never turning back. She faltered a bit when a cart crossed right in front of her before starting again her wild escape. The harbor was her destination; that was where she was the most at home, among the ship, the sail and the sea.
A hand appeared in the corner of her eyes.
Shit, no.
She tripped on her skirt, ripping it in the process and was sent tumbling into a strong back, avoiding the hand by sheer dumb luck and well-placed clumsiness. She jumped on her feet, barely sending a glance at the blue-haired man she ran into - what was his back made of? Steel? - before bolting away.
Her escape was short-lived. Barely ten feet away, a platoon of guard cut her path.
How did they get here that fast?
She hurried to stop herself, to not throw herself on them in her haste and in her usual stroke of luck, she slipped on dirt. She fell backward just as multiple hands lunged at her, barely missing her. She ended on her back, rolling out of their way before they could even think of catching her again.
She backed away.
What to do? What to do?
She turned around but already guards were filling the street. She turned widely around, trying to-
“You are surrounded, there is no escape.” Some guard said. “Please come with us quietly, no harm will be done to you.”
Maybe not you but your king surely will.
They expected her to surrender quietly after mocking her and her people. And then they were expecting her to-
The blood pumping through her veins burned her with the fury of thousands of demons. This country was only dirt and expensive items. How could it understand anything about Balbadd and its customs? If the King couldn’t see the beauty in his own country, how could he see Balbadd’s inner beauty?
And he wanted to take her as his bride? If he couldn’t love Oenotria, how could even he like her? Balbadd and her were one and the same. Ignoring that was simply overlooking who she was.
How dare he? How dare he!
Turning on her heels, she looked for an escape.
She was trapped, utterly surrounded. Some citizens were crying out, others were scrabbling away from her until she was all alone, in a sea of guards.
What to do? What to do?
She was caged like a wild panther - with barely sharp enough claws -, on the verge of growling and hissing in a show of displeasure. She gritted her teeth, sending them an irritated look.
It was bad, she was clearly at disadvantage here. Her only solace was her title, her father wouldn’t stand for her being mistreated. But it would bring war on Balbadd doorstep and… They really didn’t need that.
Sania closed her eyes, thought spiraling out of control under the pressure. Think, goddammit, think! Your mind is your greatest ally, master Anma says that. So THINK!
The wind blew, wild and strong. ‘ Wait.’
Wha-? Wait? That was what it was asking her to do? Wait for what? For her to be caught?
“No. I won’t.” Her eyes snapped open and, in a display of foolish bravado, she rose her voice. “I won’t go back to this… This pig. He insults me , my people and then he expects me to marry him?! I won’t. I refuse to marry a man who can only win the respect of his people through fear.”
Around her people were gasping and gaping.
“If I have to choose between him or death, I choose death.”
A guard glared at her and then proceed to draw his sword out with a chilling shliiing . “Very well. On guard little girl!” He called and raced forward.
Sania’s eyelids opened widely. So quick.
“Wait, Iruma-”
She sidestepped, barely getting out of the way. Are we really going to do that? Shit . She really should have thought more before running her mouth. And she didn’t even have a sword!
Sania kept her step light, sliding across the ground before falling into stance.
Forget the unnecessary. You’re here, in the present!
One hand behind the back, the other raised right under the breast, straight back and knees slightly bent, feet separated and light. Don’t put weight on your heels and don’t lock your joints.
I may never be the best at fighting but...This is the King’s stance!
She barely moved once he charged again, lowering her gravity center and meeting his sharp and dangerous eyes. For one terrible second, she felt fear, stance faltering, and his eyes glinted with glee, like a predator.
It was terrifying, to be seen as prey. But she wasn’t, not today and not ever.
Find an opening and strike-
Sania’s eyes bulged from her head.
A sword caught Iruma’s scimitar. Her eyes followed the hand, to an elbow, to a shoulder, to reveal a man- No , a purple-haired teen.
“Going after an unarmed lady? That’s not gentlemanly.”
Beyond his voice and his hair, it was his sound that made her realized who he was. It was that same sultry voice that cooed at her, wrapping her into that warm airy cocoon, followed by joyful chirps.
Him?
That child that save- No, helped her in that alley in Parthevia. What was he doing here? How could he be here? Wasn’t he a simple parthevian child? Parthevia was still at war and with their politics -as sad as it was-, they couldn’t afford to lose a child. Especially since he seemed to hold his own against multiple enemies. But then, she only saw him fight against wimps.
But more importantly, what was he doing now?
“Step aside, child. It’s none of your business.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m a gentleman, I can’t turn my eyes away from a lady in need.”
What the hell was he talking about? A lady in need? And what was up with him? Playing the hero once again. He will get kill!
Sania gripped his arm, catching his eye and frowning at him. She heard she had a pretty intimidating face. “What the hell are you doing? Stand back while you can, this isn’t your fight!”
The purple tilted his head toward her, grinning like an idiot.
“It's been a while, little cutie.”
“Wha- You remember me? It’s been months!”
Cu-cutie?
He caught her hand in his own, a charming smile on his lips. “Of course, I could never forget a face as pretty as yours.”
Magnetic golden eyes almost pulled her in but she was in a too tight of a spot to really be more than utterly flabbergasted.
Did he? Is he? Should she- Did he really flirt with me?
Iruma scoffed. “Taking your eyes off your enemy, that alone proves your incompetence. And what will you do with that small toothpick?” While it was true his sword was shorter, it was no toothpick either. “Playing the hero will get you killed.”
He ran at them, sword raised but the teen intercepted him. They engaged in a dance, swords clashing and pushing against each other. It was beautiful in a deadly way but as much as she wanted it to be false, that boy was clearly behind.
His timing was good and that was his only advantage. He lacked strength and theory, the basics of the art of combat. His hold on the sword was barely acceptable at most. On the other hand, Iruma was far more experienced and his form was flawless. Even a novice like she could see that.
And yet, by some miracle, the boy still kept up.
“Incredible,” Sania whispered. It wasn’t common. It wasn’t common at all for a child to be on par with a soldier.
The blades clashed again. Iruma pressed until the boy bent a knee. Sania blinked. The next instant they were both jumping back.
There was a pause, Iruma brought a hand to his cheek before watching his blood-stained fingers strangely. Something had happened while she blinked and it ended with the blood of the man being drawn first.
“Is he on the same level as Iruma? How can it be?” Someone mumbled but with them so silent, it almost felt like he screamed what everyone thought.
“On the same level?” Of course, the boy had to take the bait and answered. “I don’t think so. While your swordsmanship is far above mine, I’m afraid I’m still stronger.”
He affirmed that with such certainty it made her blood boil. The sheer arrogance...
“What?” Iruma scoffed, looking particularly angry. “You’re just a child who had luck on his side. It won’t happen again.”
From her point of view, Sania could only see his shoulders shaking. Was he laughing?
“I think we let the show drag long enough. Let me show you the difference in our powers.”
The sky split apart with a blinding flash, lightning grooving it in a serpentine dance, vanishing in a blink of an eye with a furious roar. The clouds, an endless sea of white, turned black. Her forearm hairs rose as the space around them filled itself with energy so thick she could taste it. His inner voice twisted, going deeper and changing its tone before it grew louder and louder until she could only hear buzzing.
The lightning fell down. The purple idiot rose his sword, - don’t! The lightning! - playing the lightning road. This dumb- Gusts of wind threw dirt in her eyes. - Idiot killed himself.
“Bararaq.”
Something indescribable happened, the lightning hit the guards. The purple idiot was fine and so was she.
Sania fell on her hum. “How…?”
Something like that should not have been possible. He should have ended fried up by that lightning. Why…?
He turned toward her, presenting her with a hand. She looked at it dumbly, still processing what happened before raising her eyes to his face.
Just… Just, “Who the hell are you?” Slipped from her lips. He grinned.
Around them, citizens shouted and ran away.
“Is that the power of a Donjon Conqueror?” Someone whispered. Or shouted. She couldn’t tell the difference.
Donjon… Conqueror?
Her father told her about an interesting boy and a donjon conqueror. That boy was skilled and strong and she shouldn’t underestimate one of them. But to win against the guards like that… It was far beyond anything her mind could conjure. Sania could barely believe it. No, she couldn’t believe it. He just blew the guards away.
“I’m Sinbad the sailor. I would be immensely flattered if a cutie like you has ever heard of me.”
Sania breathes hitched because she had heard of him.
“Father?” Sania finally asked after gathering her wits.
She watched him carefully from her position on the windowsill.
She had been admiring the garden from the window of his study room, waiting for him to finish. It was something she did when she needed to be away from everything else as no one would dare to disturb her father. In a way, he was her solace in a world full of expectations.
A sweet breeze brushed her hair away, replacing the scent of ink, dust and old parchment with the fresh smell of flowers. The room was usually only filled with the scratch of the quill on paper but this time, he was humming . And it wasn’t any song, it was that rowdy one that you could hear in some bars at night. The one you sang when you were drunk beyond your mind and happy .
She was… puzzled by this sudden development.
His cowlick bobbed as his eyes barely rose above the pill of paper he was working on. He inclined his head, waiting for her request.
“Did something happened during your travel…? You seem particularly... happy.”
Rashid blinked before he raised warm pink eyes to meet hers. “You’ve always been so perceptive.” He praised her, eliciting a happy blush, before patting the seat next to him.
Sania stumbled to her feet, almost tripping on her dress before she reached her seat. He chuckled at her antics.
“I took a student in.” He started and Sania could barely keep her bewilderment in check. “His name is Sinbad and he’s a sailor but he’s also- ”.
"He is a dungeon conqueror."
It was him? This was the student talked so fondly of? The one he made sure to keep tabs of, his friend ? A mere child.
Her mouth shut with a click when she realized she had been ogling for who knows how long. If nothing else, he was even prouder at her staring, puffing his chest out like a peacock.
It was worse. The situation was far worse than she thought it could be. Her father’s favorite, his student, was here. She couldn’t just ditch him now, especially when he put himself -and in a way, her father’s reputation- at risk. They needed to get out of here, and fast. Otherwise the guards…
...Wait!
The guards!
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” She swallowed her fear, holding his shoulders.
He blinked. “Well, I saved your-”
“Sin!” A white hair boy and a giant arrived. “I will throttle you, I swear! You can’t start a fight in the middle of the street. We’re in another country!”
Why...?
The smallest was fuming, bared teeth, hands clenching and… Was it blades in his hands? The giant simply looked resigned.
Why would you do that?
“Later!” Sania cut, her arms started to shake. The adrenaline was getting to her. “You need to go. The king doesn’t tolerate anyone resisting him! You just made yourself the enemy of this country!”
It was almost funny to see them blanched, eyes widening and gaping. Sinbad started to heavily sweat under the glare of the white-haired boy and Sania would have snorted in any other situation.
Gathering her skirt in one hand, she gripped Sinbad’s wrist, forcefully pulling him along as she ran for the harbor. “Less talking, more running.”
“Where are we going?” Someone asked.
“The harbor,” she breathed out, “You need to leave before they catch you.”
Sinbad tucked on her hand, sending her tumbling against his chest while avoiding the sudden cart. He caught her in his arms, warm golden eyes boring in silvers. “Why leave? I’ll talk to the king and clarify the situation.”
I will turn the situation over, I can do it. His sultry voice whispered, a languid stroke against her eardrums.
It could work, provided her mind.
She immediately squashed that thought.
No! I will take care of it. You leave. Her voice chided.
His sound faltered, almost startled by the answer.
“You really are naive.” He gaped. “You don't know anything about nobility and royalty and yet, you want to speak to the king? No." He certainly wasn't expecting that. "You attacked his men, what do you expect will happen?” She took a step back, moving out of his arms. “You’ll be executed.”
He eyed her strangely, with interest, like he was seeing her in a new light and he seemed to reconsider his arguments.
She turned her back on him, catching the dubious look the white boy sent her. “Let’s go.”
They turned around many corners, dodged people and even jumped over a boat, in order to escape the guards. At that point, right before they reached the second ring, she was the one dragging behind, watching their backs running further away until- a hand caught her wrist.
Sania cocked a brow. “Would be a shame to lose such a cutie.”
A collective groan.
Maybe Sania turned red at that but her cheeks were already burning from all the running and she wasn't going to tell him that.
Must you be so shameless?
Another turn and then, harbor bed’s smell hit her nostril full force, wind picking up its pace and the backlash of the water singing its song.
Finally, they reached the harbor. Quickly locating their boat, they stopped right before it.
“That was fun.” The purple hair dumbass laughed. Sania hissed at him, panting.
“Fun? Fun. What the hell is wrong with you?” but it sounded more like “Fun...? Fun. What the… hell… is wrong with… you?”
His other friends glared at him but quickly occupied themselves by jumping on board and readying the ship. Sinbad and she were the only ones still on the ground. Swift as a cat, Sinbad walked up the plank.
Nevermind… she was the only one remaining.
Her eyes were glued on the plank, biting her lips bloody. Could she? Should she?
It would be so easy. Just walking up this plank, running away from her problem and for once, thinking for herself, about herself, and by herself.
She was tempted, so very tempted.
Her eyes traveled the length of the wood up to the boy, watching her with a tilted head. The strange look was back and Sania couldn't tell if she was uncomfortable or not under it. “Little cutie? You’re coming?”
Sinbad’s eyes, rings of gold, flashed to hers with a curiosity that was only due to his age. The sun hit his figure just right, illuminating his face in an alluring way and his hair glistened in the sun like a purple halo. He was alluring.
Alluring and-
Free, sang his inner voice. Be free with me.
And she could never be free.
“No.”
The dry answer caught Sinbad off guard, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “Wha-. Why? I thought you couldn’t stay here? Weren’t you chased by guards too?”
A smirk that held neither warmth nor happiness twisted her lips. “There are people here, people that rely on me, need me. I can’t leave them behind.”
He frowned, “Doesn’t change the fact that you displeased the king too. Come with me, cutie, join me. We will find a way to reach them, together.”
“No. The difference lies in our blood. I’m… a noblewoman. And you are not. He can’t execute me like that.” Hopefully. “That would start a war .”
“Sin! We’re ready to leave.” The white-haired boy said, tying the sails to the mast. “By your command.”
He turned, nodding to his companion before he opened his mouth again, probably to argue but she pushed the plank with her foot, sending it into the water. Sinbad barely caught it.
“Leave. Your business here is finished.”
Turning around, she started walking off, her heart beating loudly while her guts were crushed with a feeling of doom.
“Can I have your name at least or should I keep calling you little cutie?”
Cheeky brat.
She laughed, silent and airy before looking over her shoulder, watching the ship slowly sailing away.
“Sania,” she answered. “Farewell, Sinbad.”
He cheekily grinned, hands on his hips. “See you next time, Sania.”
“I’m deeply sorry.” Sania bowed down, her skirt, an aureole of silk around her, going as far as putting her forehead against the cold marble of the throne hall. “My actions were inappropriate.”
She raised her head, eyes flickering to the marble stairs leading up, to the throne of rhyolite and gold, to the feet of a thickly robed man, to his crown high on his head.
The court bristled, noblemen growling their outrages, demanding retribution.
“How impudent,” the voice dripped with venom, grating her ears with acid. “She dares look our king. Have you no shame?”
“The audacity!”
“How rude… And this little girl is a princess?”
She paid them no mind, focusing on the man on top of the stairs. His face remained neutral, unchanging, giving her no clue about what was on his mind.
His eyes flashed to hers, black and burning with concealed anger. Sania swallowed, breathe hitching. He was dangerous, like wildfire or a storm in the desert.
But the king wasn’t like wildfire- he was wildfire. Deadly and unpredictable. And she had angered that.
Howling wind and thunderous fire crackled in her ears.
"You sullied my name in front of me and my people. You help the people who injured my guards.” At last, the king answered. A pause. “My forgiveness is neither cheap nor free.”
A split-second mistake sat on her shoulders with all the weight of a century of bad decisions. She couldn’t keep her back straight, she slouched in front of all.
“Please, it was my mistake, not my country. Let me fix it.” Her heart was beating strongly in her chest, like a scared bird trying to escape its cage.
Something seemed to have caught his attention, as he straightened on his sit. The king looked faintly surprised- no, not surprised. Sania frowned and realization crashed down on her. He was amused .
“I only respect and forgive the warrior.” He said, smile bloodthirsty and head between his finger. Sania swallowed, eyes frightfully round. “You don't want your country to suffer from retribution? Prove yourself to me; conquer the dungeon hidden in my forest and I won't seek vengeance."
Her heart stopped.
Conquer… a dungeon?
“My King, I’m afraid I…” Her voice died in her throat. His eyes were gleaming with sadistic glee, waiting for her to finish her sentence. If she were to refuse, the burden would fall on Balbadd and… she couldn’t do that.
The blood left her cheeks.
He played her. She was trapped between two stormy seas, both dangerous and impossible to take. She thought she loved her country more than her own life but now that she was presented with the choice…
The noisy background that was his court came back full force. She could hear them, laughing at her expense, mocking her and praising their king for his creativeness. All in front of her.
The king stopped the noise with a hand.
Remember your speech, remember your vows. For your country. For the people that live in Balbadd. Be strong.
Clenching her trembling fist, she exhaled. “If I agree to this, no matter what the outcome may be, Balbadd won’t be held responsible, right?”
He nodded.
“And my guards… Will they be released?”
He flicked a wrist dismissively at her. “If you want.”
“Then… Then. I will do it.” It felt like she was signing her own death warrant.
Murmurs began to echo around her and king Kyrell smirked. “Very well. Tomorrow, you will be brought to it.”
Her mind unreeled under all of it, and she was left in a daze as the room emptied, wondering if she really just sold her life for her country.
It was dark and she hadn’t been given a light to keep the shadows at bay. The room was big, as it was expected from a castle, and heavily furnished. A cell for higher-ups.
Looking at the window, Sania tried to open it, hoping to bring some fresh air in. She felt a bit out of breath inside the room. It was too cramped, too dark, overbearing. The walls seemed to close around her, ready to fall on her and burying her under them to never see the light again.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The voice of a man broke through the silence.
She turned around briskly, anxiously scanning the shadows to find the owner of the voice. Her heart beat loudly in her chest.
“Who are you?” Her hand closed around the cool metal of a firebrand as she backed toward the fireplace. “Show yourself!”
Her voice was shaking, wobbly, high and breathless as her breathing shortened. She was tensed, ready to spring to the door. Her day kept getting worse and worse. She had acted carelessly today, her actions were all but an impulse, mistakes, and one she wasn’t going to repeat. And now, she was stuck in a room with an unknown man, tired, hungry and scared for the next morning.
All she aspired to do was rolling in a ball on the ground and crying until she tired herself out.
A movement in the corner caught her attention. A massive, beast form that slowly changed into a man’s figure came closer. “My name is Nathair, of Tzarfat.” He finally stepped into the moonlight and bowed.
It’s not a beast, noted Sania with relief.
His body was strong and large, wide shoulders, long legs, thick tights and large hands. His face bore the signs of aging: a light stubble covered his chin, neck, and cheeks and a scar crossed his nose up to his forehead. He couldn’t be older than thirty.
He was far from being beautiful but mattered the most was his inner voice. It was the sound of his soul, your true self, and no one could deceive her. She tilted her head, listening to something only she could hear.
A crackling fire. Cries of help. Agony. A song of fire and death. And in the middle of it, a mournful voice, one that longed for the slaughter to end.
A warrior tired of the war.
“Do I have your approval?” He finally asked, shifting.
“Do you want it?” Sania cocked a brow, her grip on the firebrand merely relaxed. “Or are you simply trying to distract me?”
The corner of his mouth wobbled. “You’re sharp, Princess. I like that.”
With a movement of his hand, he invited her to sit down next to him, something she did while keeping a fair distance between them, her fingers dancing over the carved swirls of the firebrand laid across her lap.
“So tell me, little princess, is it true?” Sania looked at him, tilting her head. He clarified. “Is it true that you insulted King Kyrell of being a chauvinist pig?”
Her face fell, blood leaving her cheeks. “You heard about that?”
“How could I not?” He laughed, showing pearly teeth. “People talked and the servants more than anyone else. I’m pretty sure everyone is talking about that.”
Sania muffled a groan in her hand. If everyone is talking about it, it will be harder to sweep the issue under the rug. And if her father hears about that- No. If Tassos ever hears about that, he will make her life a living hell.
And Naksh…
He must be seething . And worrying. And cursing her name. Knowing that she was causing such pain to her friend tore her heart apart. She longed to see him again, to find her solace, protection in his arms like she did when she was little.
In this cold, lonely world, he was her brightest light; always by her side, supporting her, guiding her, protecting her. And she never thanked him for it.
It would probably be her biggest regret.
The man shifted, clothes creasing.
“And you, mister, why are you here?”
He sighed, his dark hair bouncing as he shook his head. “They took something from me, I came to take it back.”
He sounded sad and tired but the determination burning in his ashy gray eyes lighted his face. He squared his jaw, glaring at nothing in particular.
She tensed under the heavy atmosphere, hand curling around the firebrand as her heart started to race. His voice grew louder, from mournful, it became sharp, terse. Ready to fight.
Her guts knotted, but she did her best to ignore it.
“That something, is it a someone?” She dared ask, awaiting his answer with dread. For some reason, he felt unstable, ready to snap at any given moment.
He nodded stiffly.
“Maybe…” She licked her lips, throat uncomfortably dry. “Maybe they didn’t take that person away. Maybe they came on their own accord.”
He turned his head toward her, piercing her with cold eyes that weigh her down. She fought a rising fear that bubbled in her guts and popped in her throat. He leaned forward until she could clearly see his eyes darkening, and Sania could only watch with fear that threatened to shift into panic his hand rising, coming closer and closer to her face. A smell of smoke and spices assault her nose.
She was frozen. Powerless.
Again.
“What-” Quick as a snake, he grabbed a strand of hair and collected a dust bunny on it. “...” Her voice died in her throat.
“I will try to keep that in mind.”
And after that, they talked during a good half of the night about thousand of things, about Djinns and strange powers, about economy and kingdom, until Sania yawned, her eyes closing themselves.
“You know, I won’t die tomorrow.” Nathair blinked at her, watching her shuffled around until she found the right spot.
“How can you tell?”
I can’t actually, I’m just trying to ease myself with little white lies.
“Because I can’t.” There is too much that I need to see, to learn, to discover. I can’t die now.
Sania sighed.
“Nathair?”
He hummed, “What is it?”
“I’m going to sleep. If you try anything, I will hit you with the firebrand.”
Nathair snorted. “You are amusing, Princess. Goodnight.”
Sania could have sworn that she just closed her eyes when two guards came for her, shaking her awake. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon.
“I won’t die.” She whispered to herself as she crossed the threshold of the door.
Strangely enough, Nathair believed her.