CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
Sasha was everything she’d wanted herself to be— and apparently failed at achieving.
If I’d been more like her, would I have gotten a more original plotline?
Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a good character, Em—annoying, but good.
The looming, dramatic front entrance of the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower stood before them.
Large iron handles and skull-etchings decorated the massive doors.
Just as Em predicted, none of the orcs guarded the main entrance.
Kriqir was still assuming they were trying to escape through one of Sasha’s other secret exits.
“You’ll have to watch my back,” Sasha said, rushing to the doors, running her hands over the surface. She pushed and shoved against them, grunting in frustration. “Just what I figured…locked.”
Em scanned the dark passageways they’d fled from for any incoming orcs. Despite the monsters’ angry roars echoing in the distance from other sections of the tower, none of them showed face. She flexed her grip on the sticky knife, bracing herself for any potential surprise attacks.
“Why won’t you gosh-darn-it-all open?” Sasha yelled, slamming against the doors.
“Did you try pulling?” Em offered.
“What?”
Em gestured to the door-rings. “Pulling.”
“Oh.” Sasha tugged at the monstrous doors, and they flew open with a whining creak. Golden sunrays cut through the grisly atmosphere of the cursed tower. She smacked her forehead. “I’m such an idiot.”
Em didn’t wait another second. She charged outside, warmth and fresh air washing over her as she raced down the mountainous hill.
Behind her, the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower stood tall atop a rocky peak.
Dark storm clouds brewed about the tall spire.
Nothing unique or special struck her about the black tower.
It was as stereotypical as everything else in her quest.
She imagined blowing it up as she tore away from it.
Dodging loose rocks and brush-roots, Em escaped Kriqir’s clutches with Sasha hot on her heels. The haunting roars of orcs faded in the distance behind them.
A desolate wood of gnarled trees awaited them at the foothills of Kriqir’s cursed realm. Mist hovered between the barren branches.
A singular crow cawed into the orange sunset.
“Slow down,” Sasha called behind her. “No need to run anymore.”
Em skidded to a halt in dried leaves.
Her new friend leaned against one of the trees, wincing as she ripped off her mask.
Sweat beaded along her dark skin, smearing her once flawless makeup.
Sasha tore off her black Gi, flinching, and revealed a rhinestone sports bra and a series of pale scars.
Wedged between her two left ribs, a dark gash seeped with red blood.
“Holy shit!” Em exclaimed, staggering. She reached out, her hands hovering over Sasha’s wound. Dizziness swarmed her at the sight of the girl’s gored wound—small tendrils of black poison snaking through the girl’s bulging veins from the orc blade that stabbed her.
“What…what can I do?” she stammered. The air thinned. Em could barely see past her rushing head, her stomach churning.
“Relax,” Sasha stifled a chuckle as she shredded her black robes into strips and bound them about her torso, creating a satiny makeshift crop top. “I’m fine. It’s just a flesh-wound.”
“You were fucking stabbed!” Em said, wringing her hands. “What do you mean relax… that’s a lot of blood!”
“I’m not a human, sweetheart.” Sasha winced past the pain as she hitched the bandaging in place. “Blood isn’t my main life-force.”
“What…” Em rubbed her eyes, swallowing past the dryness in her mouth as she struggled to regain her dignity. At least the wound was now covered. She could breathe again, the bile settling in the back of her throat.
“I’m a dryad,” Sasha said, somehow laughing.
“Like…the tree people?”
“Yep.”
“Oh.” Em racked her brain from her Species and Creatures class at Sanderson to remember what little she recalled of the dryad race.
Somewhere in the vast world, Sasha’s soul was bound to a special tree—her true form—which, if untouched, made her immortal.
If someone killed her human form, the girl could revive herself within the safety of her wooden shell and eventually resurrect.
The one way to kill a dryad was to burn their soul tree.
So, they often hid themselves deep within unreachable forests from any other living being.
Dryads also happen to be my husband’s favorite fantasy species, so this one’s for you, Chase.
“That’s…really awesome,” Em admitted. And something completely original.
“Anyone ever say it was awesome that you were human?” Sasha rolled her eyes.
“No.”
“Same difference.” Sasha adjusted her fingerless gloves and weapons belt. “It’s just what I am, not who I am.”
“It’s still original,” Em muttered. “More than I am.”
Sasha raised a curious eyebrow. “You really need to quit dogging on yourself, sweetheart. Want to be original? Work on your self-esteem. People will believe in you after you actually believe in yourself.”
“I’ll try.” Em hated how her voice squeaked.
“C’mon,” Sasha shrugged everything off. She led them deeper into the dead woods, wiping the sweat and blood off herself as she walked.
Her rhinestone top glimmered despite the mist enclosing them.
“Let’s get you back to the rest of your team so you can keep fighting these lame clichés in your story. ”
“You’re still helping me?” Em asked.
“For a price,” the other girl smirked over her shoulder. “How much are you willing to pay for some originality?”
“Anything,” Em said.
“Perfect. Then count me in on your quest and consider me hired!”