Chapter 1
Aideen
Three years have crawled by rather slowly, albeit dark clouds have swallowed our city, spitting the bones of the dead onto the streets. The air stank. You'd think one would get used to the smell of rotting cadavers by now. Plague doctors roam the lifeless city following the pattern of lost ghosts, tending to the sick, and burning the deceased. Nobody looks to the sun anymore, and neither do I, for I am now alone in this world, and like everybody else, I dread the winter. Our food supplies are gone, and our bones creak under our dirty, pale, and torn skins. There aren't many of us left, but we refuse to leave. Of course, help would never come, leaving us to fend for ourselves with the diminuitive knowledge we have of the outside world. The day the walls fell, we knew the plague doctors were concluding to burn the city, even with the stubborn still inside.
The morning was similar to any other. The sun has risen but was concealed by the immense amount of smoke coming from yesterday's session of burning the dead. The air reeked of them, furthermore taking every fiber of power that I held not to carry up last night's dinner of field mice. I am ashamed to think that I have fallen even further on the scale of being human and was now living like a feral animal. The risks of catching the plague from those rodents were vast, but it seems some of us are immune to it completely. The bells. I can hear the bells of the old church ringing like mad, and I raced for the door to the house my family and I used to live in, where happy memories turned bitter. People clambered from their hiding places just as I had done and began the brief walk towards the town square that had become a means of ending one's life. Bodies still hung from the ropes. We pretended not to see them.
Two plague doctors of broad shoulders, stubby legs, and black robes stood on the raised platform where criminals had once lost their heads to the axe of the executioner and waited until the small crowd of us finally settled down. The bell stopped its tumult soon after the last one made it. The silence was ear-shattering and felt as if it would be dragged on forever. Nobody moved.
"The survivors of the plague, people of Krirora, it is the last morning you will wake up in this city, for we shall burn it on this day as it seems the rest of you refuse to die, and we refuse to touch the body of those who have killed themselves." The shortest of the two spoke without removing his mask, his voice booming and gravely. "Leave your personal belongings, for they too may be affected by the toxins of the plague. Burning another city would rest on your shoulders for spreading it. Leave at once, for we will set this place alight with or without you in it."
I knew the day would come when I would have to abandon my home. My mother believed in fairytales and thought I would be leaving on the horse of the man that sweeps me off my feet. Her spirit may be troubled to see her eldest daughter walk away from the land where she has grown, loved, and laughed in a dirty, torn piece of cloth wrapped with rope for a belt and sacks on her feet to protect her from the rough of the earth. Wherewith she would lay down and bawl to see my golden blonde hair had turned to black from soot and being unwashed for so long. The scars on my skin, the stains on my face, and the empty well that once held tears have taken the light from my eyes. And with nothing but memories of what Krirora once was.
The remaining people left; few refused to leave and would prefer to burn with the city and its dead residents. But I had to depart. There is little aspiration left in me that I will find a better life. Father always despised a coward, and to give up would only brand me so. The fire began at the church, which was the heart of the city. I watched it spread to the borders, engulfing everything in the harsh flames. With no tears left to cry, I could only watch what remained of my home be devoured by the enormous golden-red flames. That was the last thing I saw before I turned away for good and towards the nescience of the forest.
For the first time in my life, I was no longer home. After those three years in the pits of death, I could tell the difference when I was finally too far away to smell the burning of the dead. The air smelled of conifers, powerful and green still, though some trees were taking on a golden brown or orange crown, signifying that the fall was with us. Somehow I dread the winter. The afternoon chill started the minute my sack-covered feet touched the grass of the valley. There was no road nor was there any sign of life to signify that I was going towards civilization. A sigh escaped my cracked and dried lips for the umpteenth time that day as I continued my walk into the valley. It was beautiful, comparatively, and held clean air. It was as if I was walking in an untouched garden of peace. Each step slowly felt like a burden along with aches conjuring in the calf muscles of my feet and numb pricks in my shoulders. Thirst dawned on me as well and I was suddenly concerned that I may not find a water source soon. The sky soon faded from gray to black after leaving the valley, fear of what lurks in the forests filled me with the confidence of a coward. Everything felt like the enemy.
I did not know the art of fighting, nor did I have a weapon to protect myself. Whatever was in the darkness could pounce on me at any time and I would be able to do nothing but scream and wallow in the agonies of being torn skin from bone until my last breath. My steps were loud in my ears, and if I could hear it, so could everything else. Most of the trees were gigantic creating the issue of climbing. All I could do was keep walking until I died.
Fate works in many ways. There are the roads that lead to unfortunate events, and roads that lead to joys and wonders. Fortunately, the second was on my side for I found a tree with wide branches and a thin trunk that seemed less challenging to climb, and I soon found myself in the branches, tangling my limbs among them to keep me from falling. Sleep was a mile away and I lay there uncomfortably thinking about the events of the day, my parents, the dead, and my death. After Falling asleep, my ears picked up movement below me. Stricken with fear, my body shivered uncontrollably and I felt myself fall from the tree like the hunted. Air flew from my lungs as my back hit the cold hardness of the forest floor and my consciousness blurred while the throbbing in my head slowly became a nuisance. Whatever was making that noise earlier was sure to have heard me, and the cold touch of sharpened steel on the skin of my neck told me that this was no animal, but a human.
