Threads Of Fate

Chapter Three

𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒂

The night pressed in around me as I staggered to my feet, my body a trembling wreck but my mind sharp with a newfound clarity. The river had tried to claim me, but it had failed. I stood at the edge of its banks, my soaked clothes clinging to my skin, the cold gnawing at my bones. But even as my body shivered, I felt a heat deep inside me—the fire of survival. The stars above blinked down like the eyes of distant gods, watching, waiting.

I looked out over the river one last time, its surface now calm and still as if mocking me, as if pretending it hadn't just tried to kill me. My hands curled into fists, the wet earth squelching beneath my feet as I turned away from the water. I had no time to linger in the relief of survival; there was a path ahead, one that I had to follow no matter how broken I felt.

My body screamed in protest with every step I took, but I pushed forward, walking through the forest that stretched beyond the river. The trees loomed like silent sentinels, their branches twisting and bending in the night breeze. Every shadow felt like it was watching me, waiting for the moment I'd falter again. My mind raced, sifting through the memories that had flashed before me while I was drowning. Faces of people I'd guided, the decisions I'd made, all tinged with the weight of knowing that I had barely escaped death.

I walked for what felt like hours, the forest growing darker and denser with each passing moment. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, but it did little to ground me. Instead, my mind buzzed with the realization of how far I had fallen. The mighty Cassandra, born of gods, reduced to clawing for breath in a river. It was a cruel twist of fate, one I couldn't afford to dwell on, but the bitterness lingered like a bruise under my skin.

Ahead, a flicker of light caught my eye—a faint glow piercing through the trees. My breath hitched as I quickened my pace, every step now fueled by a grim determination. As I drew closer, the glow grew brighter, revealing the outline of a small campfire in a clearing. Shadows danced around it, and the low murmur of voices reached my ears. My heart pounded, but this time it wasn't from fear. It was something else—anticipation, maybe, or dread. I wasn't sure.

I stepped cautiously into the clearing, the firelight illuminating the faces of those gathered around it. There were three of them, their haggard features worn from the road, their clothes tattered and dirt-streaked. Travelers, by the looks of them. They didn't seem to notice me at first, their heads bent in quiet conversation, but as I stepped closer, the firelight caught my soaked figure, and one of them—an older man with graying hair—looked up sharply.

"Who's there?" he barked, his voice rough and suspicious.

I raised my hands in a gesture of peace, my voice hoarse as I spoke. "I mean no harm."

The others looked up now, their eyes narrowing as they took me in. I could feel their wariness, the tension in the air thick as the flames crackled between us.

"Lost?" the older man asked, his tone still guarded but slightly softened by curiosity.

For a moment, I considered telling them everything—about the river, the gods, the visions. But no. These people had their own troubles, their own lives. They wouldn't understand. And I wasn't ready to trust anyone, not yet. Not after everything.

"I was... caught in the river," I said simply. "I've been traveling. I need to rest."

The man eyed me for a long moment before giving a curt nod. "You're welcome to the fire. We've all seen worse."

I moved closer, the warmth of the flames licking at my frozen skin. The three of them shifted to make space for me, though their eyes never left me. I could feel their questions lingering in the air, unspoken but heavy.

"What brings you out here alone?" a woman asked, her voice quiet but probing. Her sharp eyes studied me from across the fire, her posture tense, ready for anything.

I swallowed, the heat of the flames doing little to ease the chill in my bones. "I'm searching for something," I said, the words feeling vague but true. "I lost my way."

It wasn't a lie. I had been searching for something—for answers, for meaning—but I wasn't even sure what that something was anymore.

The third traveler, a young man with a haunted look in his eyes, said nothing. He merely stared into the fire, his thoughts a million miles away. I wondered what kind of stories he carried, what burdens had left him so silent.

The fire crackled between us, and for a while, no one spoke. The quiet settled in, and I let myself relax, just for a moment. The warmth seeped into my muscles, and for the first time since the river had tried to take me, I felt the weight of exhaustion pulling me down.

But even as my body began to relax, my mind was still racing. The memory of the river was fresh, but it wasn't the only danger out here. I could feel it—a creeping sense of dread that had nothing to do with the cold or the darkness of the forest. The gods weren't finished with me yet. There were things I still had to face, trials that would make the river feel like a mere ripple in comparison.

I couldn't afford to stay here long. I had a destination, even if I didn't know where it was yet. There was something—no, someone—I needed to find. A vision had flickered in the back of my mind before the river had swallowed me whole, a glimpse of a face I hadn't seen in years. I didn't know what it meant, not yet, but I knew one thing: I had to keep moving. The answers were out there, somewhere, waiting for me.

And so was the danger.

Tomorrow, I would leave this fire, this temporary respite, and I would continue my journey. But for now, I would rest. The stars above were still watching, and the river, though distant, was never far from my thoughts.

This was only the beginning.