The Red Soul

Chapter Two

When she was on the edge of giving up, Myris saw an opening in the overgrown forest. A small, overgrown cottage loomed up between the low-hanging branches of the brown and green giants around her. Because of the many branches and leaves that stuck out of the house, it was almost hidden from her sight. It was camouflaged by the vegetation. It was a miracle that she found it among all nature.

Doubtingly she looked at the cottage. It was old and surrounded with plants as if nobody had lived in it for years, but it still looked stable.

With the last drops of energy, she still had in her, she grabbed her leg and limped towards it. She saw black spots in the corner of her eye, but she tried to keep her calm, not wanting to lose conscious now.

Myris crept to the cracked windows and peeked through them. A small, almost empty room filled her vision. Besides the regular interior, there was no sign of personal belongings or any other indication that someone still lived here. Of course not. She had not expected anyone to be crazy enough to live in this, but her chances of help also dropped by the minute.

With her bed leg in the air, she skipped to the door, which opened without creaking, effortlessly even, and put her head through the c***k to look inside. It was not much bigger than it seemed from the outside. A small wooden table with two rotten wooden chairs stood in front of a crumbled fireplace. Several cupboards were arranged against the walls with a small bed in the right corner, containing an old mouldy pillow and a thin blanket. A thick branch ran diagonally through the roof and leaves were scattered everywhere on the ground. But not only leaves covered the stone floor.

A lot of berries appeared from under the bed when a gust of wind came through the opening in the roof. Myris recognized the poisonous black berries and immediately avoided them, but she had to eat something. And she definitely had to do something against her wounds. So, she started a search through the whole house, opening all the cupboards and after ten minutes she sat on the bed looking at her catch.

She had, to her small delight, found a roll of strong bandage in one of the drawers along with a needle and different threads that had been lying between the berries under the bed. For the rest, there were cracked cups and saucers, crappy, broken figurines and other unusable mess, as if the former occupant had taken everything with him in a hurry.

With a pale face, she looked at the sharp point of the small metal object that she let held with her fingers and swallowed. She knew she had no choice if she did not want to bleed to death.

She grabbed a thin thread with trembling fingers and crouched down at the low table. It cost her a few attempts, but eventually, she got the thread through the eye of the needle. While putting her arm down, she thanked the stars that it was not her good arm that was now bleeding like that, as she pulled away the soaked strips of fabric. It looked terrible. Pink flesh could be seen under the dark red liquid that seeped out of the cut, surrounded by pieces of dirt and other filth.

She grabbed the needle more firmly and closed her eyes. Inhaling in and out until her hand stopped shaking, she grabbed a piece of cloth she cut from the blanket and put it in her mouth soon after. When she had calmed herself enough, she brought the needle to her arm.

Muffled cries left her mouth, yet before the thin metal could pierce her skin, she threw the needle aside. It would only make everything worse. If she were to stitch the wound, it would result in an uneven mess of pulled-together skin. Besides, the cut was too deep for her to close it without consequences. The fall had perhaps not torn a muscle, but if she would try to stitch her skin above it, she was sure she would pass out because of the pain. And if she would stitch the upper layer of her skin to stop the blood from coming out of her arm, there would still be internal bleeding, which would be just as dangerous.

Leaving the needle on the ground where it landed, Myris instead reached for the bandage. There were some rips in the sides, some sections only still connected by a couple of strings of the woven fabric. The former white colour had also turned slightly yellow, indicating that it was not as sanitary anymore as it used to be. But anything would suffice at the moment.

Yet, before she unrolled the bandage, she put it aside on the table at grabbed the cushion and her blunt knife. With every movement she made, Myris tried to keep her arm as steady and straight as possible, her wound facing the roof. Looking for the edge with the least amount of mould, Myris bit into the cushion and used her other hand the cut a large rectangular shape out of it.

When she did it, she then put the sheet with stuffing almost falling out of it besides the bandage and shuffled to the dropped needle. Replacing her knife with it, she went back to the table. Evenly separating and distributing the stuffing until it was a thin layer between the sheets of the cushion, Myris lay her elbow on the edge that was already closed. With the needle, she went through the other half of the fabric to close the entire patch. Her part was messy, the thread making uneven waves, but it would hold the stuffing inside. With only one hand, she could not do better than that anyway.

Picking up the rectangular patch, she placed it over her wound, cringing at the stinging sensation. She had not cut a piece big enough to cover the edges of her wound, but luckily those parts were not too deep and did not bleed that much. Moving as little as she could to not make the fabric wall of her arm, she grabbed the bandage and wrapped it around her arm. Red spots still appeared, but it was way less blood than before.

When she was eventually done with wrapping layer after layer, she used her teeth again to assist her hand by tying a knot. When she was certain that the bandage was tight enough that the patch would not move from its place over the wound, Myris let her head fall on the rest on the remaining part of the cushion.

A loud sob came up from her throat, but she did not cry. Hunger and thirst were long forgotten when she closed her eyes.

She woke up dazed, not knowing how long she had slept, but bright light shone through the window at her head, which meant that it had to be afternoon already. Groaning, she raised her head. Her entire body was stiff from the uncomfortable position she had been in.

Examining her arm, she let out a sigh of relief. Despite the ugly bruises and dirt around it, the bleeding had diminished and she knew she had survived another obstacle. At least for now. She had to find help before it would get infected, and that could happen quickly due to the filthy and old fabric she had used. But at the moment, that was not her priority. Right now, her priority was food and water. All the food she had found in the cottage was spoiled, and there was no trace of water.

With the last bit of the bandage she had left, Myris bandaged her ankle. All her weight was on her other ankle as she stumbled out. Her stomach growled loudly and she ignored the sting in her side. Her head was light because of the shortage of food, which made her struggle to focus on all the green leaves in front of her.

She scanned her surroundings and the first thing that caught her attention was a thin but sturdy branch that lay in the damp earth. She went and pulled him out with as much strength as possible, then put him in the ground to lean on it. He did not bend, did not give any shrinkage, which meant she got a new walking stick for her ankle.

Ones more, she looked around, studying her surroundings in the new light of day. It looked much more open, more welcoming than in the night.

In a heartbeat, she turned around when she heard the rustling of leaves behind her, at the expense of her ankle. Cursing, she grabbed her leg, which was violently protesting under the sudden movement. Looking at where the sound was coming from, she pulled out her knife again, but there was nothing to see. It reminded her once again that she did not know where she was and that she had no idea about what hid in these woods.

She preferred to go inside the house again, although she doubted if that could protect her. But if it was a rabbit or some other small animal… She had to eat.

As cautious as she could, she limped through the trees. Even though her arm protested, she held the knife in front of her, while she held the stick tightly in her other hand. When she used to stick to push aside the bushes, she saw nothing. Yet, she did not trust it at all, not when the image of hundreds of small eyes watching her lingered in the back of her mind.

However, despite her fear, her desire for food and water was more prominent. Thus, she walked further away from the cottage. Around the few trees, she scraped with her knife a cut in the hard, ivy-covered barks of the trees, making distinctive signs to find the way back to the house.

A burbling sound made her stand still. Carefully she continued as the sound grew louder, drowning out the grinding of the leaves and moss beneath her. It was not just random burbling she heard; it was the sound of running water.

As quickly as she could, she passed the trees, until she halted before a small stream. Small white flowers grew on the wet edges. She kneeled down, her legs in an awkward position as to not hurt her ankle. Eagerly, Myris poured her hands full of water and drank the fresh liquid, washed the filth of her head and arms soon after, only to drink more. She could cry from happiness.

When she could think more clearly, she fell backwards into the cool grass. With her gaze wandering through the nature, she ran absent-minded with her hand through the green blades that tickled her. If she was not on the brink of life and death, she would have liked to walk here. It all seemed so calm, so peaceful. She had not been in a forest for a long time, had by no means been able to sniff the fresh smell of the wind.

She might already have been declared dead by now, but at least she had achieved that little piece of freedom.

The sun was shining on her skin that was too pale, with dried blood stuck to it. She had to be careful that she would not burn, not wanting to add that up to her list of burdens. But still, her skin felt a bit warmer, a feeling she had missed a lot.

Myris sighed. She still missed so many things. She missed him…

The light disappeared when a new shadow covered the ground, but it was not caused by birds flying through the sky. She screamed and crawled away from the beast that towered over her. It looked like a wolf, with fur white as snow, but it was much bigger. Blue lines circled over his body and his blue eyes, clear as ice, looked at her unmoved.

Reaching around her, Myris looked for her knife, but could not find it. Then she saw it, forgotten by the sharp stones around the brook. The warmth she just had once again disappeared, turned into ice like the eyes of the beast before her.

This couldn’t be real.

She cursed at herself. She had no longer been on her guard, and now she would die. She had come a long way, but for nothing. Well... at least she had seen the sun shine in its full glory, something she thought she never saw again.

She waited for the wolfish creature to throw himself on her, tearing her to pieces with claws resembling protruding icicles or ripping her open with his sharp teeth, but he did not move, just stared. Eventually, he turned around and walked away, disappeared among the big bushes from where he had come from.

Myris was watching with wide eyes and open mouth, but she did not dare to move. She did not dare to stand up herself and run between the broad tribes behind her. She just sat there, shocked and unable to move. When her thoughts slowly came back, she wanted to turn immediately and flee, wanted to follow the brook until the current had brought her far out of the reach of the beast with the white fur. But before she could really get on her feet, the rustling came back and its head appeared again between the leaves.

This time, she swore out loud. She had wasted her chance to get away, too stunned that he had left, and not considering that he would probably come back for her. And he had come back for her. She was such an i***t. Maybe she deserved to be eaten. But he had not come back to eat her, Myris realized when apples fell out his mouth, his teeth had bitten onto the stems.

Myris sat stock-still on the floor, her heart pounding like a madman. The wolf lowered his white head and rolled the apples in her direction.

“For me?” She whispered softly, confused. Then she shook her head. What was she doing? That beast could attack her every moment and, with his sharp teeth, bite her throat out within a second. But instead of running away, she was talking to him here, as if he understood her. She should have been dead a long time ago.

But the wolf bowed his head and... nodded. He nodded as if he really understood her. Then he rolled the apples again a little closer to her.

Myris continued to sceptically glance at the ice-blue eyes, but after a few minutes she finally slowly crawled toward the apples, not taking her eyes off the white creature. She moved her hand across the grass with her hand until she grabbed the fruit.

Then, she crawled back a few steps, towards the knife that balanced on the smooth stones and grabbed it from the ground. Then she went back to the trees where she came from. She hissed when her ankle ended up on a loose branch.

The wolf took a step forward.

Myris immediately shut her mouth and slowly slid backwards without losing eye contact. She did not know if she had to run, attack or stand still until the beast left. Maybe she indeed had gone mad, was she imagining this. Because if she was not...

A shiver went through her spine. She hoped she hallucination because of her wounds or that she had gone completely nuts in these years. Everything except the other possibility.

But she knew that the beast was real. She could feel it. And she was afraid the beast was part of something she had feared for so long. The stories seemed both real and fake like never before.

The creature was still there, sitting about five meters away from her, gazing at her unmoving. When Myris made eye contact, his eyes pierced into hers. They looked as old as the trees surrounding them. Then the beast stretched and lay down on the ground while continuing to stare at her. He gave of no sign of hostility. On the contrary, he gave her food.

Nibbling on her lower lip, Myris looked between the knife and the apple in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she lay the apple aside and moved a little bit closer to the creature. It raised its his head but did not move for the rest. It would only take a second, a simple movement and she could be dead, but the wolf-like creature did nothing.

Myris studied the beast a little better. Although his appearance screamed danger, and he would be able to kill her in no time, he looked as if he had no such interest. He seemed… curious but also friendly, like a dog who had found a new friend. And a new friend was something Myris could use as well right now.

She didn’t know why, but she shuffled closer towards the white beast and slightly raised her arm.

He did nothing.

She closed again a little bit of distance.

No movement.

Then, Myris was close enough to be able to touch him, and she did. Hesitantly she reached her arm out and laid it on his head, almost not able to reach it. He closed his eyes and opened them again. Then he turned his head so that his cheek was in her hand. Not daring to breathe, Myris pet him slowly at first, but then increased it to a normal pace as her heart started to beat again. His silky fur was warm under her touch and smelled like snow. He was beautiful.

“Where are you from?” she asked more to herself, not expecting a reaction. However, the wolf stood up, startling Myris a bit, and walked to the right. Then he turned his head around so that their eyes locked again. He waited for her.

Myris wanted to go to him but hesitated. Who knew where he would take her? He seemed to be friendly, but that did not have to count for the place where he would take her... to whom he would take her... to what… After all, she still did not know where she was. Her suspicions grew more and more, but also faltered at the same time. She was utterly confused.

But she was certain of one thing, and that was that he had not killed her, even though could have done it easily. She needed help, and maybe he was the only chance she had.

Taking the apple again, Myris went towards to stream. She grabbed the dull knife as well, putting it into the pocket of her baggy pants, before turning towards the animal. As she approached him, he lay down on the grass again, a silent invitation for her the climb on his back, which she did.

It took her some tries, and her ankle and arm were both were pounding with burning pain, but she managed to climb onto his back. And even though the beast was gigantic, she was quite comfortable.

Rising again, the beast started to walk through the trees at a slow pace. When he moved a bit too much her ankle would bounce against him, making her grimace, but he seemed to try to be careful as if he did not want to cause her pain.

He was so big that she needed to duck sometimes to avoid multiple branches. Occasionally he would remain still on his place, only to just walk again after that.

Myris did not know what he was doing in those short breaks, but at least she did not have to walk anymore. It was a relief for her ankle, which she kept tight at the side of the animal to prevent it from moving as much as possible.

It was strange, she thought as the beast went to the left, that the creature the only animal was she had seen in the whole forest. She could not find another animal when she peered between the wide trunks of the trees and the bushes on the ground.

Not knowing how long they would be walking, she took a bite from the apple and almost moaned at the fresh taste of the fruit. Finally, she had food again, even if it was just a simple apple. It stopped the aching in her stomach.

When rays of light suddenly blinded her, Myris blinked at looked in front of her. The apple, of which were only a few bites taken out off, fell out of her hand onto the ground. She let out a cry of happiness as the wolf led her to what looked like the end of the forest. But when they passed the final row of trees, her breath got stuck in her throat.

They were out of the forest, a forest in the middle of a valley. Hills and mountains spread out on all sides, coloured with brooks and flowers. Before her, in the distance, lay a mountain that was even bigger than the others and stretched out over the landscape like a giant. She might not have seen much of her world, but she was almost certain that this landscape did not belong to her own country.

“There you are! I have been waiting for you!”

Startled, Myris looked around until she heard a branch cracking above her and swirling leaves fell on her head.

Diagonally above her on a broad branch sat a male clad in a loose white shirt and black pants. His hair was as white as the fur of the beast that carried her. Together with his pale skin, his hair contrasted with his eyes that shone a bright orange colour, like the first glimpses of the sun. Myris had never seen such eyes before but found them breath-taking. It was hard to look away from them.

“I wanted to ask if everything is alright, but that would be awfully stupid.” Smoothly he slid off the branch and landed gracefully on the ground.

Myris looked at the man in dismay. The branch was about ten meters above them. His ankles should have been broken by the fall, perhaps shattered, but he nonetheless carelessly approached her and bowed. “The name is Fyrian. And what is the name of the damsel in distress?”

"I am not in distress," muttered Myris hoarsely. At least, she thought so but started to doubt it again. She did not know where the beast had led her, or who she was facing now, but she began to doubt everything more and more. The man was not afraid of the beast under her- did not seem to shy away from it as he put his hand in his side. He had even waited for the beast.

With his head tilted, the white-haired male named Fyrian raised his nose as he studied her. “Not in need? You are still lucky that they haven’t smelled you yet. You should have been dead by now. But if you are not in trouble,” he shrugged and turned around, waving her goodbye as he walked away.

Myris looked around anxiously. Maybe she was desperate, but she did not want to know if what the male said was true. She had been afraid of the beast under her. Who knows what else was creeping around in the forest behind her, that was not as friendly as the white creature. She did not know how, but she was still alive and she had escaped from the duke and his men. Yet, the wounds were getting worse, and the wolf-like creature would most likely not be able to heal her. The male in front of her, on the other hand, would maybe know a healer he could bring her to. She had to take the chance.

“Wait!”

Fyrian turned back to her. “Yes, darling?”

“I think I do need your help.”

Myris watched as Fyrian, with his hands in his pockets, came back again. There was a grin on his face as he stood in front of the wolf and looked up.

“Isn’t it much easier to admit it right away?” He asked and his grin became wider.

Before Myris could react back, he raised his hand and looked at the wolf. “Thank you Lumar, I'll take it over now. Go back to the others.” The beast bowed and sagged through his knees, allowing Fyrian to take Myris into his arms without a warning. Quietly he started to walk towards the largest mountain at the end of the valley.

The creature had immediately disappeared behind the trees.

“Let me go. I can walk myself!” Indignantly, she tried to get out of his arms, but his grip was like steel.

 “With such an ankle? After your adventure in the forest, you will not get ten meters further before your ankle will give in.”

It was true, Myris thought bitterly. Her ankle felt as if it could shatter at any moment. She probably would not even be able to take five steps, maybe not even one. But... Myris stiffened as the words he had said repeated in her mind. He had not been afraid of the beast, because he knew the beast; he was used to such animals. In spite of the pain, she became more alert, keeping an eye on everything around her, including Fyrian.

Fyrian himself looked ahead and hummed a happy tune she had never heard before, giving her time to study him better. His eyes were clear and focused as if they were watching everything around them without having to move. Yet, he was very relaxed. As the smell of pine and jasmine invaded her nose again, her eyes hung on his lips, which produced the beautiful melody. He did not seem much older than her.

Unexpectedly he looked at her again and caught her staring. His boxy grin reappeared, causing Myris cheeks to heat up, but a slight frown appeared on Fyrian’s face.

“I still do not know your name. Tell me, and then it's your turn to ask a question.”

She wondered if it was wise to tell him her name. But probably nobody knew who she was here. Nobody knew that anymore. The exhaustion of a bad night increased- hindered her thinking. She did not even know how she still could think normally.

“Myris, my name is Myris,” she said tiredly. She did not have to think long about her question. She needed to know- needed to be certain if she had gotten away- whether she was still in that withered country, or had finally escaped. “Can you tell me where I am?”

Fyrian grinned for a moment. She saw him turn his eyes to the sky and a questionable expression arose on his face. “Myris,” he said as if to taste her name on his tongue, “that's a beautiful name. Not really usual around here. Where did you get it?”

“That is none of your concern,” she replied flatly. He did not have to know everything about her right away, so she stayed on her guard, considering what she could or could not say, and what she did not want to say. “But you still have not answered my question."

“Oh, of course.” Fyrian looked around and then turned his gaze back to her. Interested and hesitant, as if he were curious about her reaction. “It is not surprising that you do not know where you are. In fact, it is quite special that you are here. No one of the four kingdoms has been in Olèrian since around five hundred years.”

Myris heart stopped. Kicking and screaming, she let herself fall from Fyrian's arms and backed away, as far away as possible from him. Panic flooded her. Her suspicions were true. She was no longer in that terrible country she was trying to escape from all that time... she had ended up in something much more horrible.

She was in Olèrian, the kingdom that ought to be a legend. Nothing more than a Myth. The kingdom where stories were told about before bedtime. The kingdom of which children were told that if they behaved badly, they would end up there. The kingdom that everyone feared, because of what would walk around there: monsters…

She was in the kingdom known in stories for what had destroyed her life: magic.

She had escaped and walked straight into the country she feared even more than the place where she had been stuck for years. Perhaps it served her right. She had done bad things to survive. She was dangerous and she should be punished. But the one holding her...

Then she saw it.

Two pointy ears peeked out from under his long hair. She recognized the ears. She knew what he was. He was a being about whom the stories had spoken most clearly… he was a Fae.

The stories did not speak extensively about the monsters that were to be found in Olèrian, but one was clearly called. And that was the Fae, an immortal being. The beings in Olèrian would consist mainly of Fae, who would have the upper hand there, with their power... and their unearthly beauty. Myris knew that different species existed, and even though she had never seen one, she recognized the monster immediately.

The beast... it was probably also a horrible creature and just had to bring her to its master. How could she not have seen it? She had already had suspicions, so many suspicions since she fell off the slope. Why did she go away from the birds?

Fyrian looked at her bored, but also somewhat amused. “So… that is how they think about us. That explains something. When you are done, we can continue. Your ankle will not get better because of that fall.”

He wanted to take another step towards her, but Myris crawled backwards. Quickly, she took the blunt knife out of her pocket. “Stay away from me, you monster!” She swung wildly with the knife in front of her. Panic crept over her as she tried to keep him away from her, but with the injuries she had and the shortage of food and water, she knew she did not stand a chance.

Fyrian whistled low but kept going. “Charming, but we do not have time for games. Just come along now, so we can take care of your wounds.”

We... He brought her to others. Perhaps it was better to die now from her injuries. Her head thumped.

Fyrian reached out his hand to pick her up but pulled him back abruptly.

A red line flowed on his palm when blood slipped out of the new cut. With a raised eyebrow he looked at his hand and sighed deeply. He did not seem impressed at all and hit the knife out of her hand, while Myris loudly protested.

With a last, feeble attempt, she tried to keep him away from her, but before she knew it, she was back in his arms and they were on their way to the mountains again.

Daring not to move, Myris lay frozen in his arms. She had come so far... and it all seemed to be for nothing. Olèrian... she was in Olèrian. She would die soon.

A new wave of panic arose, and she started to move again, wriggled in Fyrian’s arms and hit around her wildly. The fear clouded her senses and the pain in her arm and ankle as she tried to escape from his grip. It made her not aware of how the bandages around her arm were almost fully soaked.

Yet, Fyrian noticed it and grabbed her wrist. “Please, do not do that. You will only hurt yourself more.”

When she did not listen to him, Fyrian let out an irritated sigh. "You ask for it yourself."

Myris only saw orange light appear around them before everything turned black.