I was running.
Faster and faster I would go. The trees of the forest that surrounded me seemed to close in, the bushes and shrubs closer to the ground catching and tearing at my skirt. My heavy breathing and bare feet pounding against the forest floor were the only sounds that I heard. Even the arrows whizzing by, barely missing my head, were silent in their streaking. The tops of the trees seemed to form into a canopy, capturing me onto the straight path I was on with no means of escape.
I couldn't remember why I was running, just that I couldn't stop. I had to keep going, keep moving, and keep putting more and more distance between myself and those chasing me. Keep running, keep running, and keep running. That's what was going through my head. Over and over again as if stuck on a broken record.
When I saw the small opening in the distance, it was the push I needed to move faster. That small, almost miniscule opening held the promise of escape, of relief. I needed to escape. I moved my feet as fast as I could, pushing the pads of my feet into the damp earth, just to push off of the ground just as quickly. The opening became clearer, became larger, and became closer.
I was almost there.
And then, it was a dead end. There was no opening, no salvation.
No escape.
I stopped, looking around me. Searching the trees that caged me in for some break, some way to get out. I felt the tears try to well in my eyes, but I wouldn't let them come out. I needed to stay level-headed, I needed to keep my mind clear. I needed to forget everything around me. I needed to listen to the breeze, the words of the leaves brushing against each other.
So, that's what I did.
Survival instincts set in. I quickly fell to my back, letting my body sink into the ground, leaving my imprint in the earth. I didn't move, staying entirely still, barely breathing. I listened to the breeze, to the wind, to the dying grass and to the leaves. I listened for their guidance, for their wisdom. I pushed the noise of my oncoming opponents to the back of my mind, focusing entirely on the voice of the forest.
Soon enough, I heard the leaves whisper "ground," the grass murmured "base," and the wind cried out "trees." My eyes flashed open and I rolled to the side just as a large axe came down where my torso had laid. I saw the small hole in the base of the trees, barely big enough that I could make it through. I quickly sled through it as a sword sliced through the air were my head should have been. Before I could even breathe a sigh of relief, though, I was falling.
I watched the world pass by me, first in vivid color, then in black and brown. I watched as the sky got smaller and smaller, until I couldn't see it at all.
I woke up to the sprinkle of rain that had slipped through the canopy of leaves above me as they fell on my face. I blinked a few times, trying to regain a sense of my surroundings before I tried to stand. I ran my fingers through the wet grass, the cool dew melting against my fingers. When my fingertips reached the edging of my book, I sat up with a sigh.
Not bothering to move my damp locks out of my eyesight, I stared in dismay at yet another ruined piece of literature, caused by my inability to think a plan through all the way. Standing, I wiped the wet grass and pine needles that had clung to my skirt off, sending them spiraling through the short distance back to the ground were they belonged. I slipped my damp feet into my shoes, and started making my way along the long, twisting path towards my home, giggling a little at the squishing sounds caused by my wet toes moving against the dry leather of my shoes.
I had traveled that same path multiple times throughout my time at the Castle. My mother had begun the tradition, instilling the sense of adventure in me from a young age with daily wanderings, as she called them. We would take a path and follow it until the end, full of nervous excitement as we anticipated what would be at the end. Every afternoon would be a new path. The days we couldn't find a path, we would make our own, taking one of the master farmers with us to help cut down the shrubbery and saplings that would be in our way.
