PART I - take me with you
She had been running, trying to escape, trying to make them lose track of her. She had been exhausted, her breath coming in unsteady breaths, her body covered in sweat and her heart beating too fast; at its own rhythm. And yet, she didn't stop running. She couldn't have stopped even if she had wanted to, the adrenaline running heavily through her veins did not allow her to stop. It commanded her to keep running, to keep moving. Her whole body had been moving on pure instinct.
Survive. Escape.
Those had been the only thoughts on her mind. The only she allowed herself to think of. So she kept running. She ran until her lungs were burning, until every breath was a struggle, until her pounding heart was an ache, until her own limbs felt like an external part of herself. So, of course, she hadn't noticed when her surroundings had changed. She didn't notice the moment the trees around her became bigger and broader, she didn't notice when the grass under her feet became longer and turned into a richer green, she didn't notice the subtle change in the air; a gentle touch caressing her skin, the electricity around her. She didn't feel the magic that lived in that place. Unlike where she had been moments before, where magic had never taken roots and had left before any living thing could remember its existence. A place where magic was only real in books.
No, she didn't. She didn't notice anything. She didn't notice the moment she walked through another world.
She only allowed herself to stop the moment she was absolutely reassured they had lost her. She had stopped hearing their steps behind her a long time ago, but she hadn't permitted herself to stop. She couldn't have taken risks. So she had kept running. But her body was weak. She was weak and the length she had run that day had been too much for her. Too much for her weakened body which had been left to rot by those monsters who had taken her. Her shock, instinct and adrenaline had given her that extra strength she had needed to actually escape. And now that she was remotely safe, her energy had abandoned her, and her body had given up. She had collapsed, full spasms running through every part of her, exhaustion felt almost like a living thing. So she was now lying on the grass, breathing hard, trying to catch her breath while she covered her eyes with her right forearm.
There was a strong feeling in her chest. It was a combination of pain and pleasure; worry and relief. And, for the first time in the last three years, she was finally breathing. Truly breathing.
Alive. She was alive.
When had been the last time she had allowed herself to just breathe? When had been the last time she had felt free? She couldn't remember. The last years of her life had been a blur of pain and desperation. She had wanted to run away for so long, but the opportunity had never been there. Until tonight. The moment she saw the open tent, the bodies lying on the floor and the knife in her hand, she hadn't even thought twice about it. She had run. She had known they would notice her absence, that they would see her escaping but it was a chance that only emerged once in a lifetime; so she had taken it.
She hadn't even cared about her clothes, or the lack of them. She hadn't even cared about the fact that she was barefoot, that her ripped jeans were beyond dirty or that her t-shirt was broken on the front –proof of her fight. A fight for her life-. Nothing could be seen, but even if it could, there was nothing she could have done about it. Her long dark brown hair was loose, dirty and wholly entangled. It would be easier to cut it all off instead of trying to brush it. Almost like all of her. Would it even be possible for her to recover from her current state?
At least she looked better on the outside than she felt on the inside. She had escaped, yes, but where to go now? She had no money, no acquaintances and no remote idea of where she currently was. She recalled hearing two soldiers talking about the Bolivian border; they had crossed it approximately five days ago. They had travelled non-stop and based on her surroundings, she was in a forest. Isabella wished in that moment she had paid more attention in geography class. There should be a small town or a small community somewhere, maybe even close to her but she had no real concept of her location. She did know that a small part of the Amazonas was in the North of Bolivia. Maybe she could go there; at least she was sure that there would be other people there. But, even if she did get there, what would she do? There were native communities in the jungle, but would they accept her? She wouldn't even be able to communicate with them. Isabella remembered that many companies sent people to cut trees down close to that zone, maybe she could try to talk with them. Since there was a bigger possibility of actually being able to communicate with them instead.
You don't even know how to get there, she reminded herself. It was true. She still had no idea of where she truly was and how far away the north was. And even if she did, it would take her months to reach the natives' territory and she was in no state to walk that much. She desperately needed food, water and to rest. Her only option was to keep walking and pray for a small town to appear. She didn't have any money, but people from small towns tended to be more understanding with outsiders, especially if that outsider was a nineteen-year-old girl that had just escaped a war's camp. Isabella knew that Bolivia had claimed neutrality in the war, so that would play in her favor.
The war. Could it even be called that? It was just a massacre, an opportunity for monsters to run free through their lands, for them to become living nightmares; and for her people to fall apart.
Isabella stood up once the sound of her beating heart wasn't thrumming in her ears; and once her breathing had calmed down. Steady breaths, she was not healed or recovered but stable. That was enough. After that, she started walking. She had never really known how to detect where the north or south was, so she just walked ahead.
There was no real path, just grass and trees but she could have sworn the trees opened for her and that little footsteps appeared on the floor, guiding her. She felt like even god was guiding her to her new life. A life free of chains, free of torture and free of monsters. She prayed she was not going mad, because she also felt a little crazy.
The color of the sky was already changing into a dark blue, and the modest appearance of the moon was already in the heavens. There were no clouds but the moon wasn't full so she tried to walk faster before the advantage of light was gone. The ground was firm but soft and the grass was almost up to her knees. Its color was of the richest of greens, she couldn't remember ever seeing such a color before. She couldn't remember many things, she had forced herself to forget. It was easier to live captive if you couldn't remember what freedom had been like.
The trees were all thick and had an old aspect; their leaves were of the same color of the pasture. And a scent; there was a scent in the air, but she couldn't quite place what it accurately smelled like. The forest was beautiful. Isabella had never cared about forests or nature before, she could admit their beauty but this was different. She was speechless now. She had never seen nothing like it. It was a breath-taking kind of beauty. She almost stopped in her tracks to peacefully admire the view. She didn't know if she had the last years to blame for her astonishment or for her new appreciation of nature and the gift it offered: freedom.
A small sense of relief formed in her chest. She had been afraid that, after all the horrible scenes she had witnessed, her ability to admire beautiful things had been broken. That she was broken. But no, this forest had proved her wrong. If anything, the shadows of her terrible past had only made her treasure this all more. Beauty after ugliness, peace after war, freedom after prison. Despite everything, Isabella was filled with joy. Beautiful things still exist, not everything in this world has been covered in blood.
I am not covered in blood; she thought, I can still heal and live. I will.
Those words and the feeling that accompanied them were enough for her to keep going, regardless of her weakened body. What was a greater motivation than the promise of a brighter future? She walked for hours, the night had appeared hours ago but she had kept walking. That was the only thing she could do. Her feet felt on fire and she was freezing but she knew she would have to walk all night. She couldn't have risked falling asleep before putting some distance between them and herself. She couldn't have had even if she had tried, her fear for them was still too palpable in her. She was thirsty too, but she hadn't even heard the glimpse of a small river with running water. Her stomach was constantly growling. She was starving. They had never feed her enough but the last time she had eaten had been almost two days ago; and she had done more exercise in the last twenty four hours than she had in years.
Despite everything, Isabella was happy. She didn't know what would happen with her, she didn't know where she was going, and who she would meet but at least she was free. And she would never let them take her again. She was done being a prisoner. Her life was finally starting. Now.
She kept walking.
. . .
She had wandered all night. The first signs of an early morning were already clear in the sky. Isabella looked around, thanking the morning light and the advantage it gave her. She was still in a forest and the weight of the last hours felt heavy on her. She needed to sleep before passing out. She evaluated her options; she didn't think anyone would come across her, not unless she found a town so sleeping on the floor wouldn't be too dangerous. However, she didn't know the kind of animals that lurked in this place. And even though she hadn't run into any, it would be too risky. She studied the closest trees; their branches were thick enough for them to support her weight. Not that she weighted much, they had made sure to keep her thin, a statement that blurred a line between malnutrition and slimness. She was almost a walking corpse. She studied the trees more intensely; the biggest problem was that the lowest branches were still too high for her to climb. Isabella made a quick look around, just to check if there was anything she could use to get to the lowest branch. There wasn't. Sleeping on the floor sounded so tempting, but she was sure she had heard the cry of a wolf during the night. She didn't even know there were wolves in Bolivia. But she had been so afraid that she had had to stop and calm herself down. It had taken her a couple of minutes, but it had been enough to keep going. She had also heard the hissing of a snake –though it was very probable that she had just believed to hear it-. She wouldn't have been surprised if her fragile mind had been playing tricks on her.
Isabella weighted her options, she could go for the easier choice and sleep on that beautiful grass. Did wolves like the taste of human flesh? Would they eat her in her sleep? Or she could try to climb the tree, she would ruin her already hurt feet and it would probably take her at least two days to be able to tolerate the pain to go back to walking. She already was in pain but that trunk would definitely make her bleed.
A pair of bloody feet sounded better than being eaten by wolves, so she opted for climbing. After all, pain had been her closest companion in the last years so she would be able to tolerate this too.
She took off her shirt, it was big enough for her to use as a rope. She rolled her shirt and grabbed one of its forefronts in her hand and made sure that it was extended at the tree's back before grabbing the other forefronts. She had seen Mulan doing that and climbing that pole with those heavy straps many times but Isabella just hoped it worked. She checked that her hold on the shirt was strong enough and started climbing.
Actually, she failed. She fell on her butt after her first try. And after her second, and third, and fourth. But she kept trying. The image of being eaten by wolves turned out to be a great source of motivation. She hadn't come this far to die because of her inability for climbing trees. And the idea of a restful sleep sounded almost like paradise for her. She must have tried for hours because by the time she managed to sit on a branch, the sun was already setting. She was sweating, her feet had bruises and were, indeed, bleeding and she had been holding her shirt so hard that her hands felt numb. She would have collapsed once again if it weren't for the height and the idea of falling.
Isabella allowed herself to close her eyes after tying herself to the branch with her t-shirt. It wouldn't be enough to prevent her from hitting the floor if she fell while sleeping but at least it gave her a sense of safety that she hadn't felt in a long time.
. . .
She slept for hours. The sky was dark when she opened her eyes. It took her a moment to decide if she should just close her eyes again and keep sleeping. She could always start walking tomorrow, her feet would definitely thank her. But the subtle sound of running water made her open her eyes wide in surprise. She didn't know how she hadn't heard it earlier and she wasn't completely sure if her mind hadn't gone mad and she was imagining things; but she was thirsty and her body demanded some water.
Isabella untied her shirt and calculated the fall. It was too high for her to climb but not enough to stop her from correctly jumping. She landed on her wounded feet, she felt a cursing pain on one of her ankles, she had probably earned herself a twisted ankle but her need for water was stronger than any pain. She tried to follow the sound, the fear of wolves completely forgotten. Water. Water. She was close.
She could feel her dry throat and the sound of water was throbbing in her ears. The river was calling her and her body vibrated in answer.
She followed its call until stumbling upon a small river. She couldn't believe it. She fell on her knees, in utterly disbelief. She had to crawl to get to the river. She sank her hands in and brought them to her mouth. Full of water. Her throat was burning by the time she drank the first sip. She didn't even care if it was clean water or not. The relief she felt after the feeling of liquid running down her throat was bigger than any worry. She was so desperate that a lot of the water she brought to her mouth overflew it and followed the path of her neck until ending on her chest.
She drank until she was satisfied. Her stomach was not used to being full so she vomited most of what she had drunk. She didn't care. She waited a couple of minutes and then drank again. Only after making sure that she wouldn't throw up again, did she got in the river. She submerged her head and stayed there for mere seconds. She tried to wash her body the best she could; they had only allowed her to wash once a week. It wasn't much, she didn't have any soap or shampoo but Isabella felt in heaven. This was a pleasure and a privilege she hadn't had in so long.
She didn't just have a full stomach and the sensation of being cleaned, she was free. And she had never felt more alive.
She got out of the river as fast as she could though, she didn't know what kind of animals were there and the lack of light wasn't reassuring. Her feet still hurt and she knew that she would be hungry in less than an hour but Isabella couldn't shake the feeling of happiness off. If she were a star, she would be the brightest right now, shining hard with joy. She wished she had a bottle to fill it with water since she had no idea if she would be lucky enough to find another river. But she didn't have one so she drank more water and turned around to start walking again.
She knew there was no way she could go back to the tree where she had slept. She had been so focused on the river that she hadn't even tried to leave a trace to know the way back. It's not like she had something to go back to anyway, but the little sense of safety from being in a place you've already been to was something Isabella longed for.
But she had been too reckless and now she had no other choice but to keep walking. The trees around the river were not thick enough for her to sleep on so she wished for the night not to be too cold and began walking.
Every step was an unbearable pain but Isabella forced herself to keep going. The sky was full of stars, there were so many...She had never seen such a starry night before, she had always lived in the city, where the level of pollution was too high for the sky to even show one star. It was marvelous. There was a warm feeling in Isabella's chest. She never imagined the pleasure that a starry night could ever give her. Thankfully, it also was a great distraction for her to keep walking despite the pain.
She hadn't looked at her ankle yet, but the constant pain was enough for her to be sure, now, that she had twisted it.
She still walked.
She kept walking for hours, but she wasn't sure anymore. The pain had reached her limits and her steps had turned too slow. She was soaked in sweat and her head began to ache too. She wondered if her weakened body would finally give up. It was always pain after pain, she could not recall a time in the last three years when she hadn't been aching, physically or mentally.
Was this really it? She thought. At least she would die as a free being. That was a relief.
Crack.
A sound startled her. She jumped in her place, the sudden movement making her fall on her knees due to her ankle's pain. She would have screamed if it hadn't been for the increasing sound coming from a part of the forest. She could hear steps, the sound of bodies moving, many bodies. And voices, male voices.
No. No. No. Please.
Isabella stood up in alert, ignoring the pain and looked around to try to hide herself. She was surrounded by trees that would be great cover but she had no idea where the voices were coming from. She felt like they were coming from everywhere. She was surrounded. Those voices were all around her, increasing with every passing second. She felt dizzy. She was terrified, what if they had found her?
She cursed under her breath and moved to the closest tree but was stopped by the sudden movement of the tilt of a sword pressed to her heart. Not hard enough to penetrate her body but enough for a scrape to form where the tilt was.
A real sword. In front of her. Obstructing her path. Who used swords these days? She was absolutely sure they didn't use swords. And it had come out of nowhere; she hadn't even heard the sound of someone moving or a sword being sheathed. It had all happened too fast. Had she been so terrified and dizzy that her mind had distracted her enough to ignore it?
Her gaze followed the length of the sword until landing on a pair of eyes. The owner of the sword. A beautiful man. In fact, Isabella had never seen a most beautiful man before. She had been so amazed by his beauty that she hadn't notice that he was talking to her. Isabella frowned, she couldn't understand a word. People in Bolivia spoke Spanish, but that man was definitely not speaking it. Actually, she had no clue what tongue he was speaking. She couldn't make a word, even the sound of them felt unspeakable. She was almost sure that if she tried to even mimic what he was saying, it would be useless.
Isabella could barely think when the man started screaming at her and shoved her back –probably confused but her expression and annoyed by her lack of response-. She fell on the floor. A groan came out of her mouth. She was sore. Isabella looked at her chest and noticed that the man had pointed at her with his sword in the exact place where her t-shirt had the whole. She also noticed that he had scraped her, there was a very small line in her skin that was bleeding. The wound wasn't very deep, but it had been enough to cut her and bleed.
She was furious.
No. She wouldn't be taken again. She wouldn't allow men to do with her what they pleased, she wouldn't allow them to hurt her or handle her anymore. She was done.
"Hey!" she shouted at him. She got on her feet as fast as she could and walked until she stood in front of the man. The length of the sword remained between them. Let the man keep his sword, she thought, she was an infuriated woman and a sword wouldn't be enough to take her now. She wasn't afraid, not like last time. "Don't touch me" she said, before pushing the sword away and shoved him back. She hadn't been stronger or faster than him but he had been too surprised to stand firmly or to even use his sword to stop her. He fell on his butt.
More voices grew up screaming at her. She looked around. She hadn't even noticed that they weren't alone. She was surrounded. They were everywhere and they all had swords. Who in the fuck were they?
They moved closer to her wielding their swords at her. There was no route for her to escape. Isabella was ready to try it –anything- anyway when a louder, powerful voice rose from not so far away. Based on the response from the soldiers around her, the man must have been their leader because they all went utterly silent and, ever so slightly, lowered their swords.
Isabella heard a single pair of footsteps and turned around in time to see a tall man's figure making his way towards her. He stopped and stood in front of her. Isabella almost fell on her knees again after seeing his face.
She had been too terrified, too furious and too startled by their swords to even take a closer look to the man around her. To notice that there was something different, unnatural about them.
The man in front of her had pine-green eyes, tan skin, long gleaming silver hair and a facial tattoo. But his ears were what caught her attention the most. Long, pointed ears that could be seen through his hair.
Isabella was not afraid anymore. She wasn't even thinking, because the man in front of her wasn't real. Could not, be real.
She knew this man; she had read about him years ago, had fantasized about him, had printed fan-arts of him and hanged them on her bedroom walls...
It was Prince Rowan Whitethorn who was standing in front of her.