The Twilight Child Saga

Chapter 3: Escape into the Night

Into the Twilight

Cassandra replaced the floorboards and stood, her gaze sweeping across the room one last time. She knew she must hurry, urgency clawed at her very soul, but she couldn't bring herself to leave just yet. She longed to curl up in bed and pretend all this was just a terrible nightmare.

Her gaze fell upon her favorite stuffed animal as a child, an owl with wide, inquisitive eyes and soft, gray feathers. Her mother had bought it for her last birthday, a rare extravagance in their simple life. Knowing she had no time to spare, she ran to her bed on silent feet and snatched up the owl. Then in a graceful move, she barrel-rolled to the window. She cautiously peeked out, checking to make sure the way was clear. When she was sure there was no movement around the house except the fading sounds of thunder and rain, Cassandra slipped out and ran as if her life depended on it.

Cassandra left her home for the last time like a thief in the night.

At the edge of the forest, she paused, the owl still clutched tightly in her arms and looked back. The cottage's familiar glow was a painful reminder of all she had lost. Her gaze lingered lightly on the flickering candlelight that danced in the windowpane, a silent farewell to the only home she had ever known, a silent vow to honor the love that had once filled its walls.

With a heavy heart, she turned away. The only reminders of home were the owl in her arms, the heirloom dagger at her hip, and the satchel packed by her mother. The forest before her was vast and ominous. Its shadows concealed unseen dangers but Cassandra took a deep breath to calm her nerves and headed out all alone.

The lone owl hooted again, seeming to beckon her deeper into the woods. Cassandra comforted herself with the thought of her mother's spirit guiding her through the darkness.

A Narrow Escape

The forest's embrace was both a solace and a threat as the gnarled branches that clawed at the sky offered a canopy of protection, but their shadows concealed unknown dangers. Cassandra stumbled over hidden roots and ducked beneath low-hanging branches. She had to keep moving, to put as much distance between herself and that blood-soaked cottage as possible.

Cassandra paused beside a gurgling brook, her nightgown torn and muddied. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her, her limbs leaden, her spirit battered. She knelt by the water's edge, cupping her hands to drink, the cool liquid a balm against her parched throat.

She looked down at her hands, her mother's hands, delicate and graceful, their fingertips tinged with an otherworldly gleam. A changeling. A monster. How many times would those words replay in her mind, torturing her?

A wave of disbelief washed over her. This wasn't the Jonathan she knew, the man who had helped raise her, who had taught her to fish and ride and laugh. This was a stranger, his eyes burning with a darkness she'd only seen in nightmares.

Her mother's words echoed in her mind, a chilling prophecy in the face of this betrayal. "There are dark things in this world, my love, that feeds on innocence and joy." Had Jonathan fallen prey to those dark things? Had the Nightwraiths' insidious whispers poisoned his heart, twisting his love into this monstrous rage?

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the image of the man she once called father. She had always known she was different, an outcast caught between two worlds. But this... this was a wound deeper than any she'd ever known. It was the shattering of a bond she'd believed unbreakable, the loss of the only family she had left.

A sob escaped her lips, a raw, guttural sound that echoed through the silent forest. She was alone now, truly alone. And the realization, sharp and cold, pierced her heart like a shard of ice.

Suddenly, a twig snapped, the sound sharp and clear in the morning stillness. Cassandra's head whipped up. Her heart skipped a beat. Shadows shifted between the trees, their movements swift. Suddenly, Jonathan and his men emerged from the undergrowth, their faces fierce, their eyes burning with a relentless hunger. "There she is!" one shouted, his voice rough and eager. 

Panicked, Cassandra scrambled to her feet, ignoring the sharp pain in her ankle, and bolted deeper into the woods. Branches whipped at her face, leaving stinging welts on her skin. The forest floor, slick with rain, became a treacherous obstacle course. Cassandra's lungs burned, her legs ached, but the sound of her pursuers crashing through the undergrowth spurred her on. Each heavy footfall, each guttural shout, echoed through the trees, a symphony of impending doom. Not now. Not when freedom was so tantalizingly close.

Ahead, a massive oak tree, its trunk hollowed by time and decay, offered a sliver of hope. With a desperate leap, Cassandra scrambled inside, the rough bark scraping her skin, the musty scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filling her nostrils. She curled into a ball, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps that echoed in the confined space.

Through a narrow crack in the trunk, she watched as Jonathan and his men burst into the clearing, their torches casting long, dancing shadows that mimicked the storm's fury. The flickering light illuminated their faces, twisted with rage and bloodlust.

"Where is she?" Jonathan's voice, a guttural growl, sent shivers down her spine.

She pressed herself deeper into the hollow, her body a knot of tension. The rough bark dug into her skin, but she dared not move, dared not even breathe. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, amplified her fear. She could feel their presence, a dark cloud of hatred that threatened to engulf her.

Then, a rustle in the leaf litter beside her caught her attention, startlingly loud in the quiet tree hollow. A small, furry creature, its eyes wide with fear, darted from one hiding spot to another, its tiny heart a frantic echo of her own.

An idea, a desperate gamble, sparked in Cassandra's mind. With a silent prayer to the forest spirits, she reached out a trembling hand and gently coaxed the creature closer. It hesitated, its whiskers twitching nervously, but the warmth of her touch seemed to soothe its fear.

With a gentle nudge, she sent the creature scurrying across the clearing, its tiny paws kicking up leaves and twigs in its wake. The men's attention snapped towards the sudden movement."There!" one of them shouted, his voice a triumphant bark. "I saw something move!"

Jonathan and his men crashed through the undergrowth giving chase, their torches bobbing like fireflies in the darkness. Cassandra, seizing her opportunity, slipped out of the hollow tree, her movements swift and silent. She melted back into the forest, her footsteps barely disturbing the fallen leaves. She ran in the opposite direction the men headed until the sounds of pursuit faded completely, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the mournful cry of the wind.