Fate and Destiny (The Fated Series, #2)

Chapter 63 - Fauna - Baby Steps

"Balance on your right foot only."

"We already did that. Twice," I whine

"And no we're doing it a third. Do it."

I roll my eyes at Branka, the only one of the Ginerva who has been putting me through hours of exercises she calls tests. "Branka, please. We've been at this forever and you didn't let me get out of bed for two hours after I woke up. I'm fine - really."

"And I'm only making sure that you won't fall down the stairs," she reasons. I want to leap onto her or take her neatly folded arms across her chest and throw them into the air for her.

"If you keep wasting my energy that I could've been using to walk on these pointless tests, then yes, I will fall down the stairs because my legs are tired from doing squats, and balancing tests, and jumping jacks."

"Are your legs tired already? Because if they are-"

"Branka!" She stops her clear attempt to keep stalling and gives me an innocent look. I sigh, forgoing my anger and walking over to her slowly, pulling her arms only to take her hands. "Thank you, for taking care of me, but I'm fine. I can walk, and I can do it without needing to grab onto something."

"She's not wrong, you know," Rohana agrees. "You're hovering."

"I'm not hovering." Not even she looks convinced of her claim.

I mean it though. I appreciate the love and care that she's given me nonstop - I appreciate all ten of them, but I know why they don't let me leave, why they haven't stopped Branka's stalling until now.

My memory still hasn't returned, and aside from a few things from the darkness of my cell, I know nothing of my past nor who was a part of it. These women already told me that they're rather new to my life, so it hasn't been odd befriending them, but everyone outside of these walls knows me one way or another, and I still don't know how I feel about it. All I do know is that I've been slowly dying in this stuffy room, and children's laughter rings out from outside, and it makes me even more anxious to leave.

Pushing the thoughts of seeing people out of my head, I smile at Branka and wiggle my eyebrows. "I know you wanna get out of here too."

She sucks on her teeth, trying to hide the smile that's tugging at her lips. It doesn't work, and she ends up shaking her head and letting her hands fall from mine in defeat. I don't give her the chance to change her mind and snatch Serephina's hand and tug her to the door. Her laugh echoes in my ears, light and airy like the sun shining on a blossomed spring day. It only makes my chest feel less weighed down, and we both break into an eager run.

"No running!" Branka yells, but we both ignore it, Vanya catching up to us. For a moment I think she's going to pull us to a stop, but she just grabs my other hand and pulls us along a little faster.

We skip down the stairs, healers moving aside to avoid our path. Some give us scolding looks, some wide-eyed, and others wider smiles. We all nearly run into Siscilla who I've come to admire when we reach the ground floor. I yell an apology over my shoulder, and she yells something along the lines of, "Not a single scratch on that clean skin of yours!"

I laugh at her words, but they do more damage than anything. My skin's clean of all any scars I may have gotten from what the women have told me, but sometimes I can still feel them lingering, burning beneath my skin begging to be let out - to be seen. Sometimes my body aches from soreness I don't remember having a reason to gain, other times it's sudden sharp pain in my legs or fingers.

They may have saved me from whatever hell I was put in, but it still lingers, and not just in my body.

My head's gotten worse, though there's no physical pain to describe to Branka so she can relieve it. You can't relieve the pain of your own making, the sickness of your own dark thoughts. I still don't feel emotions like I see others express them. My smiles are faked and practiced on my lips in the night when Branka or whoever is watching me falls asleep. I've shed no tears, felt no fear, haven't gotten close to anger, and happiness is something my sweaty hands can't seem to grip aside from moments like this when it's freedom that has me feeling something in the empty chest of mine.