Mud and wet leaves clung to my bare legs and feet, forming a new skin that crumbled with every step I took. The farther I walked, the harder it became to keep moving. The pain was still there, but that wasn’t what slowed me down. It was the weight of all the thoughts circling in my head.

  With every passing minute, I felt more awake—and as a result, more physically and mentally drained. Everything I hadn’t wanted to see before now stood vivid before my eyes. I had been left alone. I had no home to return to. I had nothing left—nothing but questions.

  And the worst part? I was beginning to feel it again—the fire in my blood. Everything they had done to me was surfacing, and I couldn’t shut my eyes to it. It was inside me. It was me.

  My mind kept shouting at me to ignore it, to pretend nothing was wrong. And God, I wanted to—but I couldn’t. This was my reality now. New rules had been set, and I had to learn how to play the game again, even in a world that barely felt familiar anymore. I was still here. And now, I had a chance to carve my own path—to change things in a way that mattered, unlike before.

  That’s what I told myself. This was me choosing to change, on my own.

  I had been a toy—a nameless face they could shape and use however they pleased, feed whatever lies they wanted. I didn’t even know how much I had ignored. I still didn’t. And the pressure of it all scared me. How many people had they used? And for how long?

  I rubbed the back of my neck with both of my dirty hands and silently wished for it all to end as suddenly as it had begun.

  But I knew better than that. My choices were few. I could run—leave the city behind, leave my dear parents behind. Or... I could try to get us all out, just like I’d wanted for years.

  I let my hands fall to my sides and sighed, hopeless.

  What I needed most was understanding.

  Helena had said I was like them now—the so-called angels—and the knife I’d made proved it. I had felt the forest: the rocks, the grass, the air. I had shaped a weapon out of it. I felt it take form, and I felt it listen. It was far from beautiful—just jagged bits of stone barely held together. It looked like a child’s toy. But it had been enough to save my life.

  Could I make a better weapon? I wondered. But I was too tired to try. I was using all my strength just to keep moving.

  Maybe it was time to figure out where I was in this seemingly endless forest. I couldn’t wander aimlessly forever. I looked up—the trees were tall and sleek, impossible to climb, especially with how wounded I was. So I stopped and tried to orient myself.

  Soft yellow rays filtered down from the treetops to the dew-covered grass below, making the droplets shine like tiny diamonds before they vanished into the earth. The branches swayed gently in the wind. The scent of tree sap hung thick in the air.

  Everywhere looks the same, I thought. But I didn’t let myself panic.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Just pay attention.

  Birdsong filled the silence—light, familiar. And far in the distance, I heard the rush of a river. Maybe Helena hadn’t lied after all. There were only three rivers in the Blue Forest, and I hoped the one I was hearing was the one she had mentioned. If it was one of the others, it could take more than five hours to reach the city. Not that I planned to return—but I didn’t let the thought go entirely.

  I took a deep breath and began heading toward the sound of running water, holding my side as I walked. The pain was still sharp. I wished for a doctor—until I remembered the one who had drugged me and taken my friend. The thought reminded me: Trust no one.

  It took time, but eventually, the trees began to thin—and I saw it. A wide, shallow river, framed by thousands of small rocks. It was the Sun River—the one that supplied Aurora with water.

  I stepped into the clearing, and from there I saw Eridanus—the volcano near the city. My heart leapt at the sight of it already dusted in snow. My shoulders tensed. What day was it? What month?

  If I remembered right, I’d been taken on the fifth of September. Snow didn’t usually appear on the volcano until late October. But sometimes, during colder years, it showed up earlier—late September, maybe.

  I prayed it was one of those years. If not, it meant I’d been gone for more than a month.

  The only way to know for sure would be to return to the city and find a newspaper. I sighed impatiently. I couldn’t do that. No—I shouldn’t.

  You’ll find out in time, I told myself. There was no use worrying about what I couldn’t fix. What I could do was clean myself up. So I stepped to the edge of the river, sank my feet into the freezing water, and started rubbing the dirt from my skin.

  My mother would kill me if she saw how disheveled I looked. I was so tired and overwhelmed, I didn’t even stop to think how ridiculous that thought was. The only thing that would matter to her... was that I was still alive.

  My hands trembled as I carefully pulled the dress off—after checking to make sure no one was around. Some parts of the fabric were stuck to my skin, matted with dried blood.

  You have to take it off, even if it hurts. I didn’t want to look at my right side, but I needed to know how bad it was.

  As far as I could tell, I wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the wound had to be serious. Helena had broken my ribs, and I’d lost a lot of blood. Just imagining how it might look made my head spin with dizziness.

  Stop it, I told myself. Just focus on cleaning up. If it’s serious, you’ll figure it out.

  Once I managed to dampen my dress enough with water, it came off more easily. It took me almost half an hour to scrub away the blood and grime, but when I was done, I realized I wasn’t as badly hurt as I’d feared.

  I stayed there for a while, staring at my own skin like it was something unfamiliar. I poked at my ribs—pain flared up, sharp and real—but aside from that, everything else felt strangely normal. I didn’t understand how it was possible.

  It hadn’t been nearly enough time to heal from something that should’ve left me half-dead. A wound like that would’ve taken weeks, maybe longer. But now it was just a mess of angry bruises and swollen skin.

  Then again, I wasn’t normal anymore. And this… this was just more proof.

  I touched the side of my neck with my fingertips, wondering if that injury had healed too. If so, that meant I was stronger now. Harder to kill. At least something had come out of all of this.

  I wrung out the grey gown as best I could and slipped it back on. I’d done what I could to clean myself up, but I still looked like a ghost—soaked to the bone, barefoot, and nearly naked. The kind of sight that would draw every pair of eyes in Aurora. I let out a loud sigh and tried to collect myself.

  Focus on what you can do right now, I thought. I found myself washing the same spots over again even though there was nothing left to clean. Maybe I just needed to keep my hands busy a little longer—anything to delay the moment I had to step back into the world.

  When I was finally done, and my skin was red from all the scrubbing, I wandered back to the edge of the river. I sat down on a smooth, wet rock and stared into the water, trying to think.

  I needed a plan.

  And this time, it had to be a good one.