Scattered Stars

III

Somewhere deep inside a black abyss of the unknown, a heart began beating. Its rhythm sparked other beats of life; a creature began breathing again. 

How this happened I have no idea. This miracle just happens from time to time, some great being decides to regive the gift of life to those who need it—this, in Thistle’s case, is exactly what happened.

When she awoke, it was day. She lay on a sandy beach, water running over her bare feet every five seconds. She sat up and gazed at her surroundings.

The beach Thistle had arrived at was littered with bleeding dead fish, clumps of muddy seaweed, and hunks of driftweed. A forest of pine trees closed the beach in.

Trees, Thistle thought in relief, only the Oak Kingdom would have trees. 

She realised then that she must be on the outskirts of the Raining Kingdom, if she were on a beach. 

But there was a forest nearby…? 

Oh, she thought suddenly. This isn’t the Oak Kingdom. 

This was Where the Trees Rain. (No one knew why it was called that—rest assured, it did not rain trees here.) 

This was an area none of the royal people owned. 

This beach, and that forest, was an unclaimed region, one that most of the royal families were fighting over. People seldom settled here, so there was little hope of Thistle finding help. 

Thistle remembered clearly that Sprig had told her that Where the Trees Rain may be beautiful, but it could become a nasty warzone very fast.

So that meant Thistle had no way to get out of unclaimed territory, unless she went through the forest, which she felt she did not have the energy to do yet.

Thistle got to her feet. 

She began walking down the beach (with no actual purpose in mind), stumbling a bit with every step. It had been ten minutes when Thistle began to notice a throbbing pain in her side, but she ignored it and continued limping down the beach.

Finally the pain got so bad that she had to stop and rest.

Thistle felt her side, and gasped when she felt warm liquid—and a deep cut. She pulled her hand away and caught a flash of crimson. 

She felt sick. She must’ve gotten cut by a rock when she was caught in the current. It was a wonder that she survived at all… Thistle realised that she was very lucky…. But that was ironic compared to how she felt.

The stifling heat didn’t help--it seemed that the sun was ten times stronger today. Thistle honestly felt like laying there and just crying for a little while, but she knew that wouldn’t help anything. 

It still sounded like a good idea, though.

Thistle sighed and stood up again. She decided to try the forest; at least it would be nice and cool in the shade there.

Her tail dragged along in the sand, leaving a wet brown snail-trail (because Thistle was still sopping wet) as she limped along towards the pine forest in the dizzying heat.

At last Thistle arrived at her destination, and didn’t even think another thought before entering the forest. 

As she walked through the pines, the wyvern inhaled their crisp scent, and smiled serenely. A brisk breeze swept through the sunlit forest, and the sweet smell of honeysuckle engulfed her.