Chapter Three - The Everlasting Highlands

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By the time I reached the outskirts of the capital, Kington, my boots were soaked with blood and dirt. The reek of rotting bodies made bile rise in my throat. I had dodged at least three parties of looting soldiers. Their laughter and mockery made me ill. The cloak that Anqa had given me was a blessing in disguise -- literally. The foul badge on my shoulder helped me slip past the net of savages. No one noticed my dress peeping underneath the folds of black material. Once I passed the broken golden gates that used to mark the grand entrance to the royal city of Norshire, I broke into a run. I ran straight past scores of soldiers, both Norshirian and Shengorian, that laid dead on trampled fields of snow and ice. There was no Norshirian man left alive. Fortunately, the remaining Shengori soldiers were too busy thieving to pay attention to a single soul sprinting for the forest at the edge of the Everlasting Highlands.

The mountains loomed like gray giants, guarding me. I stopped running after some length of time. The mountain tops were no closer than the countless times I had stared at them from the window in my chambers. Except for the occasional flaming, ransacked, farmhouse, I was surrounded only by trampled snow. I felt uneasy travelling in the steps of killers, but until my path turned east and theirs' turned north, I had no other choice. The boots of the murderers had forged through the deep drifts of snow and ice. I fell on a particularly slippery patch of ice, landing hard on my hands and knees. Blood gushed into my mouth, and the impact had jarred my head wound. I spat, turning the snow red.

Cold seeped in through the bottom of my boots, and through the damp patches on my knees. I couldn't feel my hands. Shaking, I wrapped my fingers around my cloak and continued trudging towards the mountaintops.

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Two moons had passed before I arrived at the foothills of the mountain range. Hunger tore at my insides, while the wind battered my exposed skin. My lips were so chapped that they bled. The cut on my cheek continued to reopen, painting my face red. I had gone so far, but the black smoke behind me never seemed to end. The misery never seemed to end. When the Twin Suns fell beneath the horizon, icy fingers reached out of the darkness, embracing me. If the walk across the Norshire plains was difficult, the slopes of the Everlasting Highlands was impossible. Thick snow fell, obscuring my vision and adding to the original frozen water, which was nearly up to my waist. Each step was a struggle. Sweat dripped down my face to freeze on the neck of my gown only moments later. I wished that my father hadn't sent me here... though I shouldn't speak ill of the deceased. Not when they died less than a fortnight ago, and when he was the only family I had. Now I was alone, with no hope of surviving the treacherous paths through the passes. No food, no water, no weapon, no equipment, no knowledge. I had nothing except the cloak of an enemy around my shoulders, and the naivety of a sheltered princess. A princess who had nothing except an useless title.

Soon, I was surrounded by jagged mountain tops, and sharp boulders buried underneath snow. I could see nothing else. My entire dress was wet and cold. My skin froze. I couldn't feel my fingers, my toes, not even my face. I stumbled a few paces further, before collapsing. My body sank through the snow, and the highlands became my icy grave.

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By any rights, I should have died in the mountains. But with the help of the stranger, my life didn't end, not then. In a haze of cold and sickness, I beheld a shadow. The shadow morphed into a figure, who then knelt by my side. The snow disappeared and my shaking body was lifted by strong arms. My limbs were too heavy to lift, my eyes were too tired. As the stranger carried me, blackness filled my vision.

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When I came to, the cold mountains were gone, replaced by an unfamiliar room. The walls were draped with layers of colored cloth, and the floor was covered in threadbare and mismatched rugs. The bed was so low to the ground, that I almost felt that I was on the floor. A shadow blocked the single lantern in the room. Alarmed, I attempted to sit up, but my shaking limbs collapsed against the woolen blankets. My head flared with pain, and my eyes blurred.

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