章 2: The Journey
I barely had time to gather my thoughts before the cell door swung open again. The familiar creak of iron on stone pulled me from what little rest I had found. This time, it wasn't the same guards or the Prison Head. It was someone new—a younger guard, cleaner, less beaten down by years in this place. In his hands, he held a bundle of clothes.
"Get up," he said, his tone softer than I expected. "Put these on."
I sat up slowly, eyeing the bundle. The fabric looked... new. Tailored. Not the rags I had been wearing since the day they threw me in here. Hesitant, I reached out, fingers brushing against the material. Soft wool, not too thick, but enough to keep the chill off.
"Why?" I asked, more out of confusion than defiance. Nothing made sense anymore. One minute, I was on the chopping block, and the next, they were dressing me like a noble.
He didn't answer, just turned his back to me, giving me space to change. The clothes fit better than anything I'd worn in months, maybe years. The shirt wasn't too tight, the pants clean and cut to my size, and they even provided boots—sturdy, leather boots.
When I was finished, he motioned for me to follow. "The Prison Head wants to speak with you before you go."
"Go?" I echoed, my steps faltering. "Where?"
"The Capital," he said simply, offering no further explanation.
The walk through the prison halls felt different this time. No chains, no heavy footsteps of guards dragging me through the mud. I wasn't sure if I felt freer or more trapped than before.
We reached the familiar office of the Prison Head. He was there, waiting behind his desk, that damned letter still sitting on top of it. His eyes scanned me over, and for the first time, he seemed satisfied with what he saw.
"You'll leave for the Capital immediately," he said, his voice as authoritative as ever.
I stared at him. "What was in the letter?"
The Prison Head met my eyes, his expression unreadable. "That's confidential."
"Confidential?" I asked, anger creeping into my voice. "You were about to execute me hours ago, and now I'm being sent to the Capital in fresh clothes like some sort of honored guest? You expect me to just go without answers?"
He didn't flinch. "You'll find out soon enough. But for now, your orders are to go. Don't waste time asking questions. Just be grateful you're still alive."
I clenched my fists at my sides, frustration bubbling up, but I kept my mouth shut. This wasn't the place to push back, not when I still didn't know what the hell was going on.
The Prison Head stood, stepping around his desk. He looked down at me, his voice low. "Whatever happened to spare you from the axe, it came from higher up than me. So, don't think for a second you've gotten lucky. You're still in chains—whether you see them or not."
With that, he waved to the guard, and I was ushered out of the room. The cold air outside hit me like a slap, the sky heavy with dark clouds. A carriage waited for me near the gate.
I climbed inside, the weight of the unsaid things lingering like a shadow over me. The road to the Capital was long, and I had no idea what I'd find when I got there.
****
The carriage wheels creaked and groaned beneath me as we rumbled through the narrow road cutting through the forest. The driver muttered curses under his breath every few minutes, cursing the ruts in the road, the dampness in the air. I sat inside, staring out the window at the endless rows of trees, branches twisted and gnarled, thick with moss and creeping vines.
We'd been traveling for hours, and the mist that clung to the forest floor only seemed to grow heavier. The sun had long since set, and the light of the moon did little to pierce through the thick, shifting fog. It felt like the world around us was closing in, bit by bit. I leaned back against the rough wood of the seat, my hand brushing the new clothes they'd given me. They were comfortable enough, but I felt the weight of what they represented. A different kind of noose.
The driver pulled the reins, slowing the horses. His voice was gruff when he called back to me. "We'll be stopping soon. There's an inn a few miles ahead. Best not to travel these woods at night."
I looked at him through the slit in the front of the carriage. "Afraid of wolves?"
"Wolves? No," he muttered, glancing around the misty road. "Something worse."
I raised an eyebrow, but the look on his face made me keep my mouth shut. There was something different in the air, a weight. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it reminded me too much of the night in the noble's house. That same feeling, like the shadows were moving just outside of the corner of your eye.
The carriage lurched forward again, but the horses were agitated now, their hooves clomping uneasily on the muddy road. Every so often, one of them snorted, as if sensing something just out of sight. I leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever might be causing the unease, but there was nothing. Just mist and trees.
Then, something moved.
It was quick, almost too fast for me to see—just a flash of shadow in the fog, darting between the trees. I straightened, my heartbeat quickening. "Did you see that?" I called to the driver.
"See what?" he growled, his eyes fixed ahead.
"There's something out there," I muttered, peering through the window again. The mist swirled thickly, twisting around the tree trunks like ghostly fingers.
The driver's hand tightened on the reins. "I didn't see anything," he said, but his voice had changed—tight, wary.
The horses whinnied loudly, coming to an abrupt stop. I heard the driver cursing again, trying to coax them forward, but they were having none of it. Their eyes were wide with fear, nostrils flaring as they backed away from the road.
"What the hell is going on?" I muttered, pushing open the door of the carriage. The cold air hit me like a slap, and I stepped down onto the soft, damp ground.
The driver was already climbing down from the front of the carriage, shaking his head in frustration. "They won't go any farther. Must be something spooking them—"
He froze mid-sentence, his eyes fixed on the edge of the woods. I followed his gaze, my breath catching in my throat.
There, half-hidden in the mist, was something… wrong. At first, it looked like a shadow, too long and too twisted to be a man. Its limbs stretched unnaturally, its joints bending backward as it moved between the trees, low to the ground like a beast. Eyes glowed faintly from its dark, shapeless face—two pinpoints of red light.
The driver staggered back. "By the gods…"
Before I could react, the thing lunged.
It moved with terrifying speed, crossing the distance between the trees and the carriage in seconds. The driver barely had time to scream before it was on him, claws tearing into his chest. Blood sprayed the side of the carriage, and I stumbled backward, my heart pounding in my ears.
I froze, my mind racing. The thing… the demon. It wasn't supposed to be real. The stories—everyone told me I was mad, that no one believed me.
But it was here, and it was tearing through the driver as if he were made of straw.
I needed to move. Now.
I grabbed the nearest thing I could find—a rusted iron rod from the side of the carriage—and held it in front of me. Useless, I knew, but it was better than nothing. The horses were going mad, rearing and thrashing against their harnesses, trying to bolt.
The demon turned toward me, blood dripping from its jaws, its glowing eyes locking onto mine. It let out a sound—something between a growl and a hiss, low and guttural, like the grinding of stone. I could feel its hunger, the raw malevolence radiating off its twisted form.
I took a step back, gripping the iron rod tighter.
It moved again, faster than anything human, a blur of shadow and claws. I barely managed to throw myself to the side as it slashed at the space where I had been standing. The rod slipped from my hands, useless, and I scrambled to my feet.
The demon crouched low, preparing for another strike. This time, I had no illusions. If it caught me, I wouldn't survive.
I needed to get away. There was no fighting this thing.
I darted toward the forest, slipping between the trees, trying to put as much distance as possible between me and the demon. Branches whipped at my face, the ground uneven and slick beneath my feet, but I didn't stop. I could hear the demon crashing through the trees behind me, relentless, gaining ground.
Up ahead, the forest thinned slightly, the ground sloping downward toward a stream. I didn't think—I just ran, splashing through the icy water, my legs burning with the effort.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the demon stopped.
I turned, panting, and saw it standing at the edge of the water, its body twitching violently. It let out a shriek, high-pitched and unnatural, its claws tearing into the earth. But it didn't follow. The water—something about the water was keeping it back.
I stood there, breathless, the icy stream swirling around my boots, staring at the demon as it raged at the edge of the forest. Then, as quickly as it had come, it vanished, disappearing into the mist as if it had never been there.
I stayed there for a long time, shivering, until the cold finally drove me to move.
The horses were gone. The driver… well, there wasn't enough left of him to bury.
I walked the rest of the way to the Capital, haunted by the glow of red eyes in the dark.
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