"Wait… no…"
I forced myself up, my hands slipping slightly as I noticed the pool of red beneath me.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze.
An unfamiliar place.
Wasn't I supposed to be in my room?
Am I in the middle of a forest… or a street?
The rain continued to fall, tapping against stone or was it cobblestone? The ground beneath me wasn't smooth like pavement back home. It felt uneven.
The subtle throbbing on my forehead was gone. The stinging pain across my chest was fading as well.
Was that… my blood?
Raindrops diluted the crimson around me, dragging it along the grooves of the stone.
My clothes…
They're different.
The fabric was heavier. Rougher. Not the cotton shirt I had worn earlier. The sleeves were longer, darker almost old-fashioned.
This isn't my apartment.
I slowly raised my hand and grasped my face.
This feeling… it's still my face?
I'm… confused.
I looked around once more.
A sword lay embedded in the ground nearby.
Rust traced along its edge, faint but noticeable. I reached for it and pulled it free. It was heavier than I expected.
It's real. I could tell from the weight alone.
As I turned the flat of the blade toward me, I saw my reflection staring back.
The same face.
And yet…
It felt entirely different.
I felt like I was staring at my own reflection and yet, something about it was wrong.
Uncanny.
Like I was looking at myself… but not quite.
How long had I been lying dead on the ground?
I couldn't tell. The steady drumming of the rain distracted me, making it difficult to focus.
Each drop struck stone, sharp and hollow, echoing in the empty space around me.
Should I move somewhere else?
Staying here didn't seem wise.
There was nothing to gain from remaining in the open like this.
I suppose I should move.
As I pushed through the thick bushes, branches scratching against my sleeves, I suddenly heard footsteps in the distance.
Multiple.
Rhythmic.
Getting closer.
I turned toward the sound and saw faint glows flickering between the trees.
Lanterns.
Shouts followed several men, their voices sharp and urgent, though I couldn't make out the words.
They weren't laughing.
They were searching.
I need to hide.
I'm in unfamiliar territory… and they don't sound like welcoming folk.
"Find the duchess! She cannot be far from here!" one of them shouted.
"The prince's secret must remain hidden! Move!"
Their voices overlapped, urgent and tense, as they scattered through the forest in search of the duchess.
Duchess…?
As I slowly tried to slip away
Crack.
A branch snapped beneath my foot.
The sound was small, but in the rain-soaked silence, it felt deafening.
One of the knights clad in polished armor that caught the lantern light suddenly turned in my direction.
My breath caught.
For a split second, I thought he had seen me.
But then another shout pulled his attention away, and he ran down a different path.
Thankfully… the rain was relentless.
I continued to move, keeping low and light on my feet, distancing myself from the sound of the knights.
After a while, I slipped into a bush and crouched there, barely breathing.
Through the curtain of rain, I saw two figures in the distance.
One was a man dressed in a formal suit dark, tailored, completely unsuited for mud and forest terrain. The other…
A woman.
She wore a white dress, now stained at the hem from running. Her golden hair was tied back, though loose strands clung to her face as she hurried forward. The man supported her as they moved deeper into the forest.
She might be the "duchess" the knights were searching for.
Instinctively, I leaned back further into the bush.
Personally, I had no desire to follow them. If I were caught, I would likely be killed and I had no interest in dying a second time.
Rationally, it made sense to leave them be. I didn't even know who I was in this body. I might have nothing to do with whatever conflict was unfolding.
Morally, however…
If she truly was being hunted, then walking away would mean knowingly abandoning someone to danger.
But what could I possibly do?
A running duchess, hunted by knights, would trust no stranger especially not one covered in blood in the middle of a forest.
And if I approached them…
Would I be seen as a savior?
Or the very thing they were fleeing from?
The rain continued to fall.
And I remained frozen between action and survival.
I heard it first.
The snapping of small branches.
Then the light.
Lanterns.
They were closing in.
Through the rain-blurred darkness, I saw the knights emerge from the trees.
They had found them.
The man in the formal suit turned sharply. Even from a distance, I could see the urgency in his movements. He gestured to the woman firmly, insistently telling her to go.
She hesitated.
Even from here, I could see it. Her body leaned toward him, unwilling.
But he pushed her away.
Go.
And she ran.
The man stepped forward alone.
The knights did not speak.
There was no warning.
A blade flashed.
One strike.
Then another.
Then another.
Then a fourth.
Steel carved through fabric and flesh without hesitation.
He dropped to his knees.
But they did not stop.
Even after he collapsed into the mud, the slashes continued deliberate, efficient, merciless.
The sound of metal cutting through a human body was wet and heavy beneath the rain.
There was no duel.
No honor.
Just execution.
The sight
It was like watching a butcher work.
A man reduced to meat.
And I stood there.
Frozen.
All I could think of was one word.
Move.
Move.
Move.
Damn it move.
But my body would not respond.
My fingers dug into the wet soil. My breath came shallow and sharp, yet my limbs refused to obey. It was as if the rain had seeped into my joints and hardened there.
Why can't I move?
The man's body lay in the mud not far from me.
The sound of steel tearing flesh echoed in my skull.
I wasn't afraid.
I wasn't brave.
I was frozen.
One of the knights stepped away from the corpse.
He lifted his lantern.
The light swept across the trees.
Across the rain.
Across the bushes.
And then
It stopped.
On me.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then his visor tilted slightly.
"…There."
Another knight turned.
Their eyes locked onto mine.
I was discovered.
I bolted, branches lashing at my sleeves and whipping across my face. Rain soaked my hair, stinging my eyes. My lungs burned with every ragged breath.
I didn't look where I was going. I only ran.
And then
Crash!
A body slammed into mine, throwing me off balance.
I staggered backward, arms flailing, barely catching myself on the wet underbrush.
The woman, the duchess, I realized with a jolt had run straight into me.
Her golden hair, plastered to her face, shimmered in the dim light. Her white dress clung to her form, torn slightly from the branches she had pushed through. She gasped sharply, gripping my shoulders to steady herself.
"I… I'm sorry!" I shouted, though the rain swallowed my voice almost immediately.
She stared at me, wide-eyed and panting, her gaze flicking nervously toward the lanterns bobbing in the distance.
The knights were closing in.
The man in the suit… gone. Slashed, already left behind.
There was no time to apologize. No time to question. Only movement. Only survival.
Instinct took over. Somehow, we were now tied together in this chaotic flight, two strangers racing through a forest that seemed determined to swallow us whole.
Branches tore at us. Rain plastered hair and clothes to our bodies. The smell of wet earth and iron hung thick in the air. Every heartbeat sounded louder than the last, echoing in my chest.
I realized with a strange, sharp clarity: we had to move. Now.
I gripped her hands firmly, careful not to hurt her, and bolted through the dense underbrush.
Branches tore at our clothes, mud sucking at our feet. The storm hammered down on us, rain slicing into our skin, yet even through the deafening roar of the downpour, I heard it:
A waterfall.
I clenched my teeth.
"I'm sorry, my lady, but this… this is the only way we can escape from whatever mess we've been dragged into," I shouted, breath ragged.
She looked at me, golden eyes wide, fear and determination warring within her gaze. Her hands trembled slightly, gripping my arm tighter.
"I… I can't" she began, but I cut her off.
"For a second… when I say 'jump,' jump with all your might and hold your breath!"
Her shoulders squared. Even drenched and trembling, there was a resolve in her posture. She wasn't just scared, she was calculating, weighing risks, deciding to trust a stranger who had appeared out of nowhere.
The cliff edge loomed, water roaring below, mist stinging our faces. I could see her taking shallow, measured breaths. This wasn't blind panic, it was courage tempered with fear.
"Jump!" I yelled.
We leapt.
The cold hit first, shocking every nerve in my body. Water slammed into us like a wall of ice, dragging us downward with brutal force. I held her close, pressing her head beneath the churning surface to shield her from any lantern light above.
The current threw us against jagged rocks, mud and debris scratching at our arms and legs. I could feel her tense muscles through mine, fear, yes, but also the instinct to survive. She clung to me, not just for protection, but for reassurance, and I realized I was doing the same for her.
A muffled gasp escaped her lips, cutting through the roar of the river. I tightened my grip, guiding us through the turbulent water. Instinct kept me moving, pulling us both downstream.
For a brief, chaotic moment, we were no longer a pursuer and prey, or knight and duchess. We were two strangers fighting for life together, bound by necessity and the unspoken understanding that neither could survive alone.
The waterfall became our shield, our refuge, and our weapon.
And in the middle of the torrent, I caught a fleeting glimpse of her resolve fierce, unyielding, and yet fragile.