The internal clock within my brain woke me up just before dawn. I crawled my way out of bed and groped my way through the dark room, not waiting for my eyes to adjust. I walked forward with my arms out stretched, hoping to find the place where Mercy had left me some clothes. I found a pile of dark clothes folded neatly on the vanity, not without stubbing my toe on the leg, however.
The clothes consisted of black breeches with a black tunic; my cloak and belt were also folded up on the vanity. Mercy had patched up some holes in the cloak and I made a mental not to thank her for that later. I picked up my clean boots, also a curtesy of Mercy, and tried to put them on as I hopped towards the door.
Dying torches on the walls lit the dim green hallways. There was an eerie silence ringing about the Palace. The same kind of silence that the forest emanates before it is quite awake, except not quite as comforting.
I strode quickly down the halls. My lungs were screaming for the chill, crisp air of the outside world. I was not fabricated to live a life indoors.
I moved down hallways until I came across somewhat familiar halls and I made my way to the room that I was brought to when I was first here. From there I found my way out of the Palace, using the same route Kian and I took out to the stables.
Throwing the door open, I inhaled deeply as the cool air entered my lungs and swept away all the cobwebs. The sun was just now waking up and it painted the skies in a light orangey pink; the clouds capturing the color underneath them.
I trotted thoughtfully over to the stables and did not stop until I was in front of Story's stall. However, Story was not sleeping like I expected her to be. She had her head stretched out the window as if she was reaching for an apple in a nearby tree.
"Hello Story," I greeted. Startled, Story threw her head up, hitting the top of the window frame. I snorted unsympathetically.
Ouch! Story's yelp echoed loudly off the walls of my skull.
Don't sneak up on me like that! Story whinnied and glared at me as I snorted once more. She hit her nose against my head.
"Hey," I laughed. "What are you doing sticking your head out of the window anyways?"
I hate it in here, Story complained. It's so stuffy. Outside is much better.
"I agree," I said quietly. "That is why I am here, though." I unlocked her stall.
To run?
"No. I'm going to throw knives at a tree while you graze or do horsy-like stuff." I could see Story's face form into a pout.
"Hey, stop complaining," said as I lead her out of the stables. "Would you rather stay in here?"
No, answered Story quickly.
"Thought so," I giggled.
"Stay close," I warned as I opened the stable door and let Story walk out into the small pasture of dew glistening blades of grass outside.
Yes, mother, scoffed Story playfully. When I glared at her, she pranced away quickly towards the center of the pasture, giggling.
I made my way over to the tree line as I plucked out the four daggers I had hanging from my belt. Picking out a large tree on the edge of the forest, I set down three daggers, keeping my best one in my hand. Using the long blade, I carved a circle on the tree with a smaller circle inside of it. A crude target, but it will have to do.
After picking up the three daggers from the wet grass, I walked to the middle of the small pasture to where Story stood. I dropped the same three daggers as I bounced my favorite blade in the palm of my hand. The knife was by far not the best quality of the four. The silver steal was crooked and misshapen and it was hardly sharp at all. The hilt was just a few layers of thick worn leather, tied at the bottom in a crude double knot. It was a pathetic looking knife. However, it was the first dagger I had made, with help from my father.
I smiled as I gazed down at the poorly made blade in my palm, remembering that day like it was just the day before.
Sighing, I flipped up into the air, catching it by the blade. I drew my arm down across my body so the hilt touched my hip. I inhaled slowly and on my exhale, I flung my arm outwards, flicking my wrist as I released the dagger. It spun through the air at lightning speed before hitting the tree with the thud; the point of the blade rested in the center of the smallest circle.
Can I try, asked Story with a snicker.
"Of course," I cheered sarcastically. "Allow me to just insert the hilt into your hoof." Story's laugh roared inside my mind.
I picked up a second dagger, this one looking like the rest of the three; generic long, thin, silver blade, with a brown leather hilt, two stolen and one bought. I swung it up into the tree the same way I did the first, this one landing an inch to the left of the first one.
As I bent over to grasp the next dagger that lay in the grass, I sensed another soul beyond the trees. I quickly straightened, narrowing my eyes trying to see past the thick layer of brown trunks. But the soul went as quickly as it came.
I flipped the knife in the air, still starring out into the trees. Did you feel that? I thought to Story.
What? Mumbled Story, not looking up from her grazing.
Grasping the dagger tightly by the hilt, I spun towards Story. "Did you feel that soul," I whispered frantically. I turned back to the trees to search more for the mysterious owner of the soul, but once again, found nothing.
Story glanced up at me, huffed, and then resumed chewing on the green blades. Nope, she said slightly annoyed. You must have imagined it.
"Must have," I muttered as I chucked the thin blade I held in my hand at the target. It landed an inch to the right of the first dagger. Swiftly, I picked up the last sharp blade.
"Maybe I am just becoming paranoid," I continued. "I feel like I will always be watched so long as I am here in the palace. The King shan't have his recently most prized possession run off now can he," I mocked, trying to sound as proper and pompous as the King himself. Story snorted.
I laughed softy, shaking my head. I plodded up to the tree after I threw my last dagger and pulled the four knives out.
"My question is," I rambled as I walked back to the center of the pasture, "why was there not a guard stationed outside my room? What kind of palace is there if there's not someone tailing a prisoner where ever she goes?" I scoffed as I flicked the first dagger at the tree.
"Does he think I will not run without my parents runes? I still will. They are not even that important to me..." I trailed off as I realized my bluff. I tossed a second blade overhand halfheartedly.
"This is strange, is it not, Story? Last week I was a wanted assassin of Kainor. Stealing runes was as simple as breathing. Now, all of a sudden I am a brute for the King of Galabee. I am to be doing all the dirty work for the Royal Witch." My blood started to simmer as I continued to chew on this thought. The third dagger was thrown with more force and the thud of it digging into the tree was very audible.
My thoughts took off racing and I chucked the fourth dagger at the tree. I practically stomped all the way to the tree and back and resumed throwing them.
"And it is all because of this stupid rune," I growled deeply as I gestured viciously to my right eye with the blade in my hand. "If I was not born with it, then I would not be here. I would not be a dangerous criminal hated by all of Kainor except for the other dangerous criminals!" My anger became so hot that my accent was as thick as the brush underneath the trees. I doubt even Story could understand what I was saying.
I hurled the fourth blade savagely at the target and then let out a colorful string of Hamaian curses as the blade flew right past the tree and into the thick brush; I marched over to the brush extremely agitated.
"I would not be an outcast," I pointed out as I fumed and dived into a bush in search of my dagger. "A plague. Unwanted and unloved. My parents would still be alive!" I flung my arms up into the air as I gave up on my search for the dagger. I leaned against a tree in defeat and slid down, putting my face in my hands.
"If it were not for this abomination," I spoke into my hands, "I would not have to hide my face. I would not have to be watched. I would be... normal. With a normal family and a normal life."
I raked my fingers through my hair, my nails scraping against my scalp. Then I did it again, and again, and again. Frustration and confusion overwhelmed me. Restless, my fingers repeatedly attacked my scalp, nails piercing deep. Dark thoughts took over my mind and questions and "what ifs" bounced on the inside of my skull. Wishes and longings, to be free from this curse and confusion as to why I was feeling like this floated to the surface. My fingers continued to take as if they thought they could scrape away all the emotions welling up in me as I spiraled down into a dark place.
After some time, I hadn't the faintest idea how much, my mind did calm and my hands ceased their raking, but they sat trembling within my tangled hair. My fingers entwined, I slid them down my forehead and pressed the heel of my palms into my eye sockets and tried to breathe normally. I pressed so hard that small bursts of color danced across the inside of my eyelids.
Finally, I relaxed the rest of my body. When I did, I noticed Story had wrapped herself around me as if she was trying to hug me. I hugged her back.