CHAPTER 2
“The hunt is in your blood, remember who you are or the Realms shall fall into darkness.” - Book of Azure
A GASP ESCAPES MY LIPS as I jolt upright.
My body trembles, heartbeat screaming up to my ears, and my head throbs with agony.
With a desperate grip, my fingers clutch at my sweater, trying to steady my racing heart that only beats faster the more I think about it.
The more I think about… how I shouldn’t have touched the stones.
I squint against the blinding sun above me and lift my hand to let the light trickle through my fingers.
It’s not snowing.
The sky is no longer a shade of dust with stormy clouds rippling through it.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
I suck in a deep breath as my bottom lip trembles. Okay. I am alive.
I can breathe.
Looking around, I struggle to fully take in my surroundings.
Nothing looks the same. Everything feels foreign to me.
The warmth of the sun beats down on my skin, making it difficult to see anything clearly from the blinding light rays.
Carefully I turn my head, taking deep breaths in and out.
My eyes catch on a sea of rosy flowers swaying gently in the breeze.
Their sweet fragrance fills the air, mingling with the cool gusts that brush against my skin.
It's warm. Warmer than the cave back in Alaska.
The tips of the petals glisten in an ethereal way, as if the fire star above kissed them a thousand times. But underneath the beauty of the flowers hides an unknown grayish ash that covers the ground.
A soft whistling sound escapes from the smoke-filled dirt. Char rubs between my fingertips, like something very recently burnt the ground I sit on.
Where the hell am I?
My hands reach in front of me to grab a few petals.
I rub them between my fingers until they disintegrate.
The ash, dancing in the wind, twirls around in the sky until I can no longer see it.
The last thing I remember is running my hand over a smooth, fiery red stone in the dark cave.
It seemed as if the inside was bursting into flames, and now, I am here, in a meadow of flowers.
I cradle my legs, dragging my shaky palms over my face before letting out a deep sigh. My mind ticks, my jaw clenching with the pain to remember. What happened before, and why does my body burn?
Shadows.
I saw a hundred dancing shadows, souls trapped in the caves for eternity.
The haunting melody.
A soft and lilting hum that seemed to echo off the walls of the cave. I can still hear it prancing through my ears.
What happened to me?
But most importantly, is Alice stuck there, alone, in the darkness forever?
I’m struggling to remember what happened between touching that stone and waking up here; my mind feels hazy and disjointed. As if I am missing pieces to this puzzle.
Am I truly here?
Or have I died from the blizzard, and I am now just a soul searching for a place to call home?
I rest my achy hands in my lap. They are red and raw, as if they had been scalded by fire. This stinging pain reminds me that this is not a dream—this is a terrifying reality that I cannot escape from.
My trembling fingers glide along my palm, feeling the heat beat from my skin. It seems like the warmth from the stone still radiates from my flesh. Goosebumps spike along my arms from the breeze, yet my body radiates fire, a feeling I cannot explain.
Exhaustion grips me as I rest my hands on the ground.
My body is covered in a thin layer of dirt, ash, and sweat.
But with all the might I have left, I push myself off the ground.
My legs wobble and stumble as I struggle to regain control with each step.
My eyes snap shut as I let out a long exhale, then take in a deep inhale as I try to steady myself.
Inside my head, chaos reigns as my mind screams at me to give in to the weakness and fall.
The voice led me here. Did the voice bring my sister here?
I flutter my eyes open to adjust to the roasting light beaming down on my pale body.
One reason I love living in Seattle is my amber, golden eyes have always been sensitive to the fiery star in the sky.
Tilly has been waiting for the right moment to leave this place.
People in our childhood often teased my sister and me, pointing out our distinct eyes and claiming we were not from Earth.
I have ghost-like skin, so I always burn in the sun, with long, deep, midnight hair and the warmest shade of an ember flake to my eyes.
They are almost as warm as the sun with golden specks.
While my sister never burned and would always have the nicest sun-kissed skin with light blonde hair and icy-blue eyes.
I envied her.
In school, she was the shining treasure every man wanted, even though they would never publicly say. I was the girl locked away in the library—vanishing from the real world. She has never been alone in her life and knowing she would never venture far without a partner worries me.
Through my blurred vision and squinted eyes, a stone structure in the distance catches my attention.
I take off running, wincing in agony with each step.
Ignoring the pain, I force myself to make my way over the rolling hills that remind me of ocean waves.
The olive-yellow grass crunches under my boots, creating clouds of ash with each step.
The structure seems so close to the touch, but for every hill I complete, the stone building seems the same distance as before.
“Well, this is ridiculous,” I complain as I pause, catching my breath and bending my legs, pulling them behind me to stretch. Annoyed by the well-known fact of me not making any progress with this structure, I let out a huff of frustration.
I stand with my spine straight, hands firmly planted on my hips.
“How the hell am I supposed to make it there?” My chapped lips rub together as I scan the rolling hills in front of me.
The sun cooks my exposed skin, causing sweat to trickle down the back of my neck. I have never experienced this sort of heat before. I immediately remove my knitted sweater and tie it around my waist, desperately trying to cool off by exposing my sports bra.
Bending down, I release my hair from its tie and hastily redo it, pulling it tight so it won't come undone. As I lift my head to pull back my hair, a sudden movement catches my eye.
I pause, my pulse starting to race.
A tall man stands directly in front of me, blocking my path. Before I can even form a coherent thought, the man strikes me over the head with a broken branch, sending a jolt of pain through my body. Darkness swallows me whole as I lose consciousness.
Well, shit.
WITH EACH JOLT OF THE rocky road, my body heaves from side to side.
I attempt to make sense of my surroundings as I groggily come to.
The wooden walls of the trailer creak and sway around me, pulled by a strong horse.
Through the small cracks, I see stone buildings passing by, their rough-cut surfaces adorned with swirling symbols.
Some look like dragon wings, while others have five interconnected swirls in the center.
My eyes widen in disbelief at this mysterious and unfamiliar world passing before me.
As I try to sit up, a sharp pain shoots through my head, causing me to wince. I bring my hand up to my temple and feel a sticky warmness.
“He hit me,” I say through gritted teeth. “Why the hell did he hit me?”
I let out a low, painful grunt as I stare at my hands. Warm blood stains my fingers. I glance down and notice the rope binding my wrists tightly together. It digs into my skin, causing me to wince with each attempt to break free.
I whip my head around, scanning the space for clues to my location, and nothing resembles Alaska. Or Seattle. Houses with dried meat hang over wooden ladders outside, golden hay is thrown against the side of their homes, and I catch sight of little kids jumping in it to play.
My ears are muffled, a high pitch ringing sound blasting through my ears, most likely from the branch slamming into my head. My eyes quickly dart around, scanning the ancient architecture of these tall, primeval buildings.
Unfamiliar buildings.
I am lost in a sea of unfamiliar faces.
Through the cracks in the wood, the people that pass by are dressed in clothes I've never seen before, and they seem to steadily focus on me wherever I go.
The scorching sun beats against me at the open top, the clouds grazing in front of the light, dimming the sky with each movement.
The bustling streets are filled with the clanking of machines and the smell of sizzled pork, yet strangely no one speaks as I pass by.
Two kids pop out from behind a tall, rusty building, startling me.
They have wooden swords in their hands, giggling and chasing each other around as if they are playing an imaginary game.
Their shaggy, brown hair bounces around as they charge at each other.
Their laughs break up the silence of the streets as one lady tugs the boys by their arms, pulling them in.
She glares at me with fear, and I can understand why.
I am nothing more than a tied up woman with blood smeared along my skin, and I wonder if they believe I am a prisoner.
I am not from here, and by the looks of this, I am not dead. Yet.
As I pass through, women glide gracefully in floor-length skirts, their hair cascading down their backs in waves with small braids woven in.
They hold baskets full of vegetables and bread close to their chest. The men wear oversized shirts that reach their knees and loose pants tucked into high, leather boots.
I feel a surge of uneasiness as I watch them move around.
I am a long way from home; that much is obvious.