Vengeance

Chapter 3

The trail we follow is one I know by heart, worn smooth by years of quiet walks and stolen moments of solitude. Every twist and dip feels familiar beneath Relin’s hooves, as though the forest itself recognizes me. Sunlight filters through the thick canopy above, shifting with the breeze and scattering in fractured beams across the path. Dust motes shimmer like tiny, lazy stars drifting in the warm golden light. The hush of the woods wraps around me like a beloved cloak—leaves whispering secrets overhead, branches creaking softly, and the distant trill of a lark echoing between the trees.

Small creatures scurry through the underbrush, their tiny bodies making quick, nervous movements in the corner of my vision. The air smells of wildflowers and damp earth, cool and fragrant after yesterday’s rain. I breathe it in deeply, hoping it will ease the gnawing weight that has settled on my chest all day.

Relin moves beneath me with a steady, unhurried rhythm, his hooves pressing deep impressions into the damp soil. The sway of his gait lulls my body into a fragile calm. I lean forward to stroke the sleek arch of his neck, my fingers sinking into the warmth of his coat. His ears flick back at my touch, acknowledging me in that simple way only he can, and his tail swishes idly, brushing against the shafts of sunlight.

“Oh, Relin,” I murmur, my fingers tangling in his dark mane. My voice is soft, meant for his ears alone. “If only you could speak. There’s so much I would tell you—things I could never say to Mother, not even to Arianna. Will you listen, at least, while I ramble?”

Relin bobs his head, letting out a gentle snort as if in answer.

A small laugh escapes me, fragile but real. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

For a moment, the heaviness lifts, but it does not last. My smile fades, and my shoulders sink beneath a burden I cannot name. I lower my gaze to the trail, the reins slack in my hands.

“Something is wrong,” I whisper. The words feel dangerous to admit, like loosing an arrow into the air and not knowing where it will fall. “I keep having these strange feelings—déjà vu, like I’ve lived through certain moments before. Sometimes, I’ll hear a word, or see a place, and I know what comes next, even though I’ve never been there. And the headaches… they’re getting worse.”

I pause, swallowing against the lump tightening my throat.

“It’s like my mind is trying to show me something, but something else pushes it away—harder, stronger—until all that’s left is pain.”

The forest feels suddenly too close, the shadows pressing in around me. I clutch the reins tighter, leather biting against my palms.

“What if there’s something wrong with me? What if I’m going mad?” My voice cracks, betraying me. “Mother used to tell me stories of people who lost themselves, who were sent away to places no one spoke of again. Forgotten. What if that happens to me? What if they lock me away before I ever have the chance to…”

I trail off, throat tight, heart hammering.

“I only have half a year left, Relin,” I choke out. “Half a year before my debut. Half a year before I must stand in front of the world and smile and play the part they’ve written for me. And what if I can’t?”

Relin slows and then stops. His body shifts beneath me as he turns his head, pressing his velvet muzzle against my leg with quiet insistence. The touch nearly undoes me. My chest aches at his wordless comfort, at the way he somehow knows when I need him most. I reach down, fingers trembling, and stroke his nose.

“Thank you,” I whisper, barely holding back tears.

He snorts again, softer this time, and resumes walking with a steadiness that feels like a promise. The hush of the forest settles once more, soothing the storm inside me—until I see it.

Someone.

A figure stands in the middle of the path ahead.

Tall. Cloaked in black. Motionless.

The hood is drawn low, their face swallowed in shadow. They do not belong here—everything about them feels wrong against the warm, golden stillness of late afternoon.

My breath hitches. Unease knots deep in my stomach, twisting tighter with every heartbeat.

I pull Relin to a stop, my pulse thudding in my ears. “Who are you?” My voice comes sharper than I feel, steadier than the fear scraping at my insides. “This path belongs to the castle grounds. You have no right to be here. Leave now, or I’ll call the guards.”

Silence.

The figure does not move, does not answer.

Then—deliberately, with agonizing slowness—they take a step forward.

Relin shifts under me, ears flattening against his skull, muscles tensing hard as stone. He paws the ground, snorting in agitation, his whole body alive with unease. I tug at the reins, urging him back toward the stables—but he refuses. His legs are stiff, locked in place as though something unseen grips him.

The figure takes another step. Another.

Each movement impossibly soundless.

And then a noise drifts toward me, twisting through the trees like smoke: a garbled murmur, low and warped. I strain to listen, but the voice is wrong—broken, crackling, neither wholly male nor female, as if torn apart by the wind itself.

A fog presses against my mind without warning, seeping in heavy and cold. My vision blurs at the edges, narrowing until the world seems distant, muted. My limbs turn sluggish, leaden, like I am sinking into water too deep to escape. Thoughts scatter, sliding away before I can grasp them. Something is inside my head, reaching, pulling me down.

Panic flares. My breath comes sharp and shallow. No. No, no, no.

Relin screams—an ear-splitting cry of terror—and rears violently. The sudden jolt tears me from the haze just as the hooded figure lunges.

A hand, pale and gloved in shadow, clamps around my ankle.

The touch is agony.

A shock of ice and fire explodes through me, searing up my leg and spreading with merciless speed. My body convulses under the pain, a cry ripping from my throat. I kick, thrash, but the grip only tightens, claws of iron sinking deeper. The figure’s voice grows frantic, muttering in that distorted tongue, the sound scraping against my skull like broken glass.

Terror blazes into something sharper. Desperate.

I scream again—and something inside me breaks.

A surge erupts from within me, wild and unstoppable. Lightning and molten gold flood my veins, burning away the fog, shattering the hold. My vision explodes into blinding light, white and searing, bursting outward from every pore.

The figure shrieks, an inhuman sound that rattles the trees, and wrenches back as though scorched. Their grip rips away, leaving my leg blazing with phantom fire.

The forest spins, the world tumbling around me. My body trembles, every nerve still crackling with that impossible energy.

Just before the darkness swallows me, I hear it—

The stumbling retreat of the figure, their voice twisted with fury and pain.

And then nothing.