Aetherland

chapter 2 : Inner Fire

Anna's discovery of a man covered in black bruises leaves her standing still, contemplating her next move. She forces herself to look away, but he's shivering in pain, a mess of tangled dark hair and grime.

A surge of anger, hot and unwelcome, bubbles in her chest. This fool, whoever he is, has stumbled onto her hard-won haven, disrupting her carefully constructed life. It was a calculated risk, a dance with the law she's perfected. This, though, feels different. This feels messy.

Her fingers tighten thinking about her dream of a new life, far from the ruins and constant fear. It's been a long time coming, a dream fueled by countless nights she spent in solitude.

Glancing at the man again, she sees the pain in his eyes. He isn't much older than her, maybe, with a strong jawline and a smattering of dark stubble across his chin. A flicker of something… pity? Attraction? – snakes through her.

She closes her eyes. Helping him means jeopardizing her dream, her very survival. But leaving him here, to die… the thought is a lead weight in her gut.

"What to do now?" she mutters, her voice barely a whisper above the storm's fury. The urgency is amplified – darkness is descending in her heart, cloaking her already difficult decision in an even deeper shade of doubt.

One hand instinctively reaches her chest, nestled deep within a hidden pocket she'd sewn into her bra, a small, carefully folded amount of currency, a stark reminder of her initial plan. Freedom, a new life – it seems so close, almost within reach. Yet, the image of the injured man, his vulnerability etched on his pale face, refuses to fade.

"This strange man," she thinks, her voice laced with disgust, a desperate attempt to distance herself from the burgeoning sense of responsibility. He's an unknown element, a potential threat to her carefully constructed world. Maybe, just maybe, there's something valuable he possesses, something she could use to secure her freedom. But the thought feels hollow.

Alexi. The notorious smuggler within the region, a man who deals in stolen goods and questionable activities. Turning the injured man over to him feels like a betrayal to herself.

"Wait for Alexi's return," she whispers, clinging to the sliver of a plan. It's a delay, a gamble, but it offers a twisted sense of control. Maybe, just maybe, she could extract something of value from the man, enough to appease Alexi and secure her own escape. But a part of her knows this is a flimsy justification. The truth, heavy and unwelcome, settles in her gut. "I will save him," she confesses, the words a low growl against the storm. "I have to."

Shame and defiance wrestle within her. Shame for the cold calculations she'd entertained. Defiance against the circumstances that have forced her into this impossible situation.

Taking a ragged breath, Anna forces herself to focus on the immediate. She needs to find a way to care for the man, to keep him alive until Alexi returns. It's a desperate gamble, yes, but somewhere amidst the storm's fury, a flicker of compassion, a spark of humanity, has refused to be extinguished. And in that flickering spark lies the hope, not just for the injured man, but perhaps, for Anna's own redemption.

Anna finds herself moving before she can think, fetching water and medicine. As she helps him drink, the warmth of his hand brushes against hers. A jolt goes through her, a spark against the growing coldness in her heart.

At that moment, Anna knows her choice. The escape, the dream – they can wait. Maybe. But life, its fragile spark, won't.

Taking a deep breath, she steels herself. "Don't worry," she says, her voice rough but firm. "You'll be alright." The lie tastes bitter on her tongue, but it's a promise, one she now intends to keep.