Hi!
So, this is my first long story here on wattpad... I'm aiming to update every Friday, but I'll let you know if anything changes.
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Copyright © 2019 by Priscila Gomes Bandeira writing as Rissa Gomes.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
Something wet touched her forehead. Again. Again. And again.
It was cold, and she could easily sense its progress as it slid through her hair, on to her neck and on her back. Squinting her eyes open, she could see the droplet's rainbow of colors... And then it met the earth, darkening its brown shade into something close to black.
A droplet slid through her nose, tickling it, bringing out a sudden burst of laughter. For a second, she wondered whether she was ticklish or had gone insane.
She couldn't answer it.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to get up – and failed, her hands not holding her weight. Falling back, face first, into the hard ground, she took a moment to rest before glancing at one of her hands.
The skin was a mix of angry reds and dark brown streaks of dirt that matched the place she had been lying on. Was this the first time she woke up?
She didn't know. Probably not, she guessed. Waking up in the middle of nowhere wasn't a good sign, that's for sure. But of one thing she was certain: whoever had done this to her wouldn't worry about whether she'd be sunburned or not. Whether she'd be cold or safe or not. Oh no - that person would want to make sure she was dead.
He or she would have no reason for lying down her body to rest under the shade of a thick oak tree.
No, that had probably been her.
After all, the tree might not heal her wounds, but it gave some protection from the sun – and now, the rain. It didn't provide shelter from lightning or angry winds, but... it was better than nothing.
With a sigh, she turned her neck to the right and opened her mouth. She didn't know how long she had been there, but her throat ached, begging for water. Dehydration, she sighed, it could be fatal.
Though, to be fair, she didn't think she had much longer to live.
The droplets that fell into her mouth were, indeed, water, but felt like ambrosia to her parched throat. It didn't taste good, not like water should taste – it was a mix of earth and blood – and yet it was the best thing she ever remembered drinking.
And it was at that moment that she noticed that she didn't, in fact, remember much of anything.
Did she have someone looking for her? Would someone from her family appear out of nowhere –worried about her well-being? Was she one of those people who had no one or that no one would miss? Was she a criminal, running away from law enforcement? Was she someone beloved or someone hated?
Would someone mourn her when she was gone?
She didn't know, didn't remember it.
Funny, she wondered as she watched the threes dance beneath the storm. She knew what each one of those trees were. She could easily recognize, even at distance, three different kinds of flowers. She remembered how they smelled and which ones of those liked more water or sunshine. She knew that her belly was burning and that that feeling was called hunger.
When a ray of light cut the twilight sky, she knew it was called lightning. She knew that it was as beautiful as it was deadly, and she knew that soon enough, thunder would follow.
But, even as she found comfort in the loud sounds of thunder, as she found pleasure in the noise of rain hitting against the ground around her and of the sound of trees dancing beneath the heavy wind, she also found despair in the fact she had no idea at all why she was there.
Why was she lying down on the road? Why was she so badly hurt that she didn't dare to move?
As the lightning grew more and more frequent, she wondered what she should do. Even now she could feel the cold seeping into her body from the cool, wet earth beneath her. Her clothes were wet – with a mix of cool water and the warm blood she knew were still seeping from the million little cuts she had everywhere.
She didn't know how long she had, but it wouldn't a lot. Either the hunger, the cold or the wounds would soon kill her or.... or, if the Gods were feeling merciful, perhaps lightning would strike the tree she was lying under and her death would be quicker.
And, maybe, less painful.
It was tempting – she felt exhausted down to the bones, sleep a sweet siren singing on her ears. Yet if she did fall asleep, no doubt about it, only death would follow.
She had to make a choice.
Did she have any family? She didn't remember and, at that moment, the loneliness she felt was like a sharp knife twitching inside her belly... or could be that was another bout of hunger. She couldn't tell.
If she had a family, she felt sorry for them. She hoped they didn't feel sad about her death – it felt like a rest. While she still pretended to debate, she knew there wasn't much of a choice. If she could get to her feet, then what?
She didn't know her name. She didn't know where she came from, what she did or why someone had tried to kill her. And, whoever he or she was, they had tried so hard that they almost succeeded. Was it worth it, suffering through all that pain only to discover the answers to these questions?
Decision made, she closed her eyes, ready to give into eternal sleep... To rest. When it happened.
She heard the scream.
It was high pitched, loud, and so painful that for a moment she wondered whether it had come from herself – was it some distant part of her soul? The stubborn part of her that kept telling her that she was making the wrong choice, that she couldn't die? She had wondered whether she was still sane at times.
But when the scream came again, she knew it wasn't hers.
"Leave me alone, please, I beg you!"
The male laughter that followed brought a feeling of cold that she hadn't been experiencing until them – even though she was freezing. The girl's cries for help became even louder, and she couldn't keep lying down.
She had to do something.
What, she didn't know. For a wannabe heroine, well, she was kind of pathetic at the moment – but pathetic or not, she was the only hope that this mysterious girl had.
It was that knowledge that made her take a deep breath and turn ahead, using her hands to grab onto the earth and push her body upwards.
She was almost up when her knees failed her, making her fall back onto the wet earth. Holding herself solely on her hands, she tried to ignore the salty water falling onto her mouth.
Apparently, there were some tears in her yet.
Another push allowed her to fall on her ass, and she let out a relieved sigh as she stared at her hands. Her burned, scraped hands.
She was sitting now.
Giving herself a pat in the back, she heard the girl scream again.
Cursing beneath her breath, she looked around. The rain had started to fall harder, the loud noises almost enough to deafen a person. Looking around, she spotted a broken branch that looked thick enough to use as a walking stick.
With a plan in mind, she started to slowly crawl towards the branch. Even knowing that she was, no doubt, making her lacerations even worst by rubbing dirt into them, she couldn't give up. Not now, not when someone was counting on her.
"Just one more thing..." she let out a painful gasp, struggling to breathe through the pain. Closing her eyes, she repeated to herself, "One more thing... And I'll finally be able to rest."
Getting to the branch, she grabbed hold of it with both hands and used it to propel her up. Her knees trembled under her weight and, for a moment, she prepared herself to fall back down to the ground.
When that didn't happen, she let out a relieved breath. Limping towards the noise, she wondered what to do once she got there – she clearly didn't have a weapon, not that, in her actual situation, it would do her much good. This was a battle she would have to win on wits alone.
Pity most of her brains felt like scrambled eggs at that moment.
It was only when she found the place where the screams were coming from that she understood the whole enormity of the situation – it wasn't, as she had feared, men trying to abuse a young woman.
It was worse.
She knew the rumors – a group of merchants going bad, going from produce and other goods to a bloodier kind of commodity.
"Slave traders..." she whispered, cursing inwardly. Slave traders, this was a whole other deal – they were savages, trained in the art of swordplay as few men were. She had little hope against all of them alone, wounded and weaponless.
There was only one kind of play to make...
She knew she was going to die – hadn't she made peace with the fact just a couple minutes ago? With luck, her death could be the thing that granted these group of women their freedom.
Once the choice was made, she held her head high as she made her way to the men. Never mind that she was still freezing, her hands were burning from holding on too tight on her walking stick and that every time her feet met the ground she felt like crying in pain.
She was doing the right thing.
"Leave them alone." She said, unsurprised when the man who was closest to her burst out laughing. She never made much of a threat – at five foot three inches, most people tended to tower over her. Now badly wounded, the men probably thought she was playing a joke.
She wasn't.
And how she knew her height but not the name of her parents, well, she really wanted to know.
"Leave them alone," she repeated, looking at the girls from the side of her eye. They were thin, dressed in old clothes and huddled together half for warmth due to the rain and half, she guessed, out of fear. Yet, they didn't seem to be tied up – which would help her with her plan.
Movement drew her gaze back towards the group of men – there were five of them, she could now see, and the one who had got to his feet was dragging a girl with him. She looked panicked, even as the man tossed her towards the others.
Feeling sorry for the girl, whose terror was clear in her bright green eyes, she tried to smile to show her everything would be ok. At that moment, the man came forward and grabbed her for the shirt.
"Whatcha doing meeting yer nose in me business?"
Turning to look back at the man, she took a moment to study his features – he wasn't pretty, but also wasn't ugly in a way you'd think a man who lived from selling human beings to others would be. He looked normal, like someone who lived in the house next to yours. She was always surprised to see that evil could hide inside even the most normal faces.
Which just went to prove how people couldn't be trusted.
Maybe it was for the best that she'd die, anyway. This world sometimes felt too rotten to live into.
Grabbing hard on her branch, she hit him first on his right foot, then on his nose, gut, and skull. Her movements were executed with the calm precision of someone who had studied them tirelessly and practiced until her hands became bloody.
How, when she didn't remember having classes, could she still fight like this though?
The fight lasted less than a second. The man fell to the floor, unconscious, and his partners ran to him in shock.
Falling to the floor, she sighed. She didn't know whether she had killed him – she didn't think so. She hadn't heard the telltale sound of bones breaking, so that meant she probably had only knocked him out. A sign from her was enough to make the girls run, and the men curse.
A small smile on her lips, she dragged herself to stand between the women's retreating back and the still conscious men.
She hadn't killed the idiot, but they probably wouldn't know that for... a couple of minutes, at least. Not one of them looked like they'd studied the medical arts, but she'd be stupid to assume otherwise.
"If you go after them, you'll meet his fate." She forced her voice to come out smooth and easy as if the fight hadn't knocked the breath out of her lungs. Gripping her branch, she put strength on her hands to push herself back to her feet.
Glaring at her with anger, two of the men went to grab their fallen comrade and drag him towards the cart – no doubt to seek treatment. The two left slowly advanced towards her, their positions looking threatening.
"You can't fight the two of us, not in the situation you are!" The tallest one yelled and she sighed, knowing he was probably right.
Still, she grasped her branch tighter and stood her ground. Meeting the man's gaze, she forced herself to grin. Sometimes, a simple smile or laugh was a better taunt than any curse words. Your enemy wondered what you knew that he didn't, and got distracted.
She didn't know anything and always thought that this was a rather crappy tactic, but she'd seen it work before. If she only remembered where...
Well, it didn't matter in the end. She wouldn't lament if she died here, tonight, saving lives and lying beneath the stormy clouds. No, she wouldn't cry.
That's not to say she wouldn't fight to win.
Watching their movements, she decided to fight one on one. She'd dodge the first to attack and, while he was recovering from the loss of balance, she'd attack the second. It would have to be precise, she couldn't do a second run.
When she was finished with him, she'd do the same to the first one. If there was need... if he didn't tuck tail and ran with his fallen comrade beneath his arms, as it sometimes happened.
She grabbed the walking stick and glared at the men, daring them to attack. If she moved before the time was right, she was done for. If she took too long to move, she was done for. She had to time it perfectly.
There was no room for mistakes.
They came in with the thunder. Moving with sync, they circled her as if they were dancing to the rhythm of the rain.
For some reason, she recognized that fighting style – it was something she had seen before, with other people. But who? And where?
And when?
Anger gave her the burst of energy she needed the second the first one made his move. He ran forward, ready to punch her jaw with all his strength – which considering his height and weight, she knew would knock her out if he didn't break her jaw along with it.
Still, he was weaponless and she had her walking stick. She had a shot.
Dodging the punch at the last second made him stumble a couple of feet ahead and as she turned away to follow his fall, she was able to use the branch to hit the second man in the head.
She watched their movements with care, following until her knees doubled and she couldn't stop her fall. Turning to glance at her second opponent as quickly as she could, she couldn't hold back a sigh of relief when she saw he was also out. Beside him, a proud glint in her green eyes, a girl stood with a sharp stone in her hands.
"Are you ok?" Green eyes asked, her whole body shivering under the freezing rain.
Staring at the girl, she nodded even as she attempted to stand up once again and failed. "Why are you still here?"
"I'm Mabel." The girl said, keeping tight hold of the stone even as she limped closer to her. "Mabel Owens. Who are you?"
Wondering how she could answer the girl, she turned away to look at the horizon. The rain was getting heavier and soon a storm would come. She doubted the girl – Mabel – could stand outside in the elements much longer and not face hypothermia, at the very least.
She knew she couldn't, but then, she'd know she wouldn't survive the night anyway.
"Listen, you need to leave. Find shelter. Go home." She said, even as she watched the girl deny her advice. "You know I'm right."
With a heavy sigh, the girl looked away. "You saved my life – I'm not about to leave you to die alone in the rain."
Blinking, she watched Mabel with quiet surprise. "Why not?"
"Because." Mabel said as if that was enough, moved forward and nudged her. "My family doesn't live too far away from here. If you can walk a little longer, we'll both be safe."
"There's no need." She promised Mabel. "I'll be fine."
Mabel snorted, putting both hands in her waist. "Listen here sister, you saved my life. I don't know your name or anything about you, but I do know that when you could have just kept walking – probably should have kept walking, anyway – you stopped and saved a bunch of strangers from... from what would have been a hellish fate." Swallowing hard and obviously having to force herself to proceed, Mabel lifted her head and faced her head on. "So that means you are a good person, and I'm not about to let you die in the middle of the road. You need to get warm, food and some medicine, all which we can find in my home. So, are you really going to give up that easily? You didn't strike me as a quitter when I saw you a couple of minutes ago, fighting a giant with a toothpick."
And that was when she made her decision – Mabel was right. She didn't know who she was, but she didn't quit when it got tough. She knew that with the same certainty that she had when she saw the slave traders with the girls.
Going with Mabel was the right thing to do.
That didn't mean, however she could trust her. Mabel was someone who she had met out of nowhere, and who was now being kind for no reason whatsoever. Could she have been the one to hurt her this badly? Was she taking her out on somewhere just to finish the service?
Maybe, but it wasn't like she was being presented with a lot of choices.
Giving a firm nod, she started to follow Mabel down in the dirt path. Glancing at her, she didn't feel like she knew her – what didn't mean much. As Mabel rambled about her family, she wondered how could someone trust a virtual stranger so much.
If Mabel wasn't someone trying to lead her down in a trap, she needed protection. Someone that naïve shouldn't be walking around alone in the middle of the road. Blimey, she could pick up a wounded killer and end up bringing him home.
Or her.
A whisper of sound, almost as if someone had just blown it into her ear. Straining to hear more, she could only hear laughter.
Oh, my sweet sweet Nephelle. For you, the whole world is good, isn't it?
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Next Update: March, 8th 2019