Ksyusha feels a light breeze comb her hair. Soft, hot matter brushes against her bare skin as her hearing catches a mass of water crashing against obstructive rocks.
What awakes her though aren't the pebbles squandering, but the sharp pain across her index finger. Strange how it's burning despite the waters enveloping her from all sides.
A wave slightly larger than its counterparts splashes on her face. Ksyusha tastes strong salt, which makes her open her eyes to the burning sunshine.
Sun? Wasn't it only the night… Right.
She laughs at the memories.
Ksyusha has acted in a deranged manner many times before, but she can only count on her fingers the amount of times she has lost her control this much.
With a push of her hands against the sand, she sits with crossed legs, observing everywhere her eyes can land.
Ahead is an infinite mass of water. A see, she reckons.
She has only heard of it in books since her kingdom does not border any.
Her eyes sparkle as she marvels at it with an open mouth.
She likes it here. The smell, the gliding waters, the scorching sand, the spume of the varying waves…
She likes it a lot. So much so she just wants to lie and vanish into the depths.
Has she made a mistake? Is escaping really the correct choice? No, rather, is it not the only option?
Whatever it is, she has already acted on a whim, and now there is no point ruminating about the past that cannot be changed.
Neither does the future matter. Her dream lying beyond the throne, of becoming the strongest sword, is as distant as she's from her home. She should instead solely focus on the present, on her survival in an unknown habitat.
Ksyusha turns her head back and witnesses an endless forestry that begins a few steps away from the shore. Her eyes widen in pure shock.
Most trees are ten times as thick as an oak and at least stretch as high as a castle while the branches are so spacious one can easily build a hut on one.
The green leaves are the size of a human head, and for every leaf there is at least a single flower.
Those are cherry red, some dark and a few bright, yet all lively all the same.
The weirdest of all though are the skies beyond nature. There are no clouds whatsoever. Just the sun and…
Flying isles?
Nearer, there are massive islands that float in the sky. They are surrounded by waterfalls and a transparent barrier of an indigo color.
Far further, though they might appear smaller because of the distance, float a few isles with an impressive diameter, far larger, covered in blue barriers.
Ksyusha wonders whether she too stands on an island, and the infinite expanse that has appeared before wasn't in fact a sea, but rather an abrupt end to the waters as the land disappears.
"Uhh…" A soft gurgle comes from the left.
Ksyusha's instincts scream at her as her hands immediately move to find her sword with no success. Her eyes fall on the source of the sound.
"Sveta…?" she whispers. "Did the mirror malfunction?"
Her eyes search for it, and after slight panic she discovers the mirror floating above water a bit away. She jumps toward it and catches the artifact after a few leaps of swimming.
What has she done? How could she involve Sveta in her misadventures?
She glances back at her lying figure, at her sleepwear drenched in salty waters.
Her round face looks tranquil, her soft lips slightly ajar, breathing.
Her skin is whiter than sand, without a single blemish.
She looks… mesmerizing.
Then Ksyusha glances at herself, at the blood clinging to her arms and legs, her slim chest and her burning genitals.
Oh how disgusted she is.
She swims further away. Angrily scrubs the blood off her skin with her nails, which only wounds her more.
Her whole body begins to burn, which comforts her.
The physical pain has always distracted her from the agony of her soul. But no matter how much she hurt herself, the soul would always whine in anguish.
Just like now. It hurts, but deeper, it hurts much more as the pang of guilt storms upon her.
However, when all the negative feelings subside, what remains is responsibility.
Yes, she will never live or die in peace if something is to happen to Sveta.
After all, Svetlana is one of the only few people who genuinely care for her.
She turns her head to look at her light.
Sveta is there. She is lying in peace. Yet.
Who are the creatures beside her?
Ksyusha gulps, her throat dry. Her heart pumps blood to her reddened eyes. Her teeth crunch against each other. They teeter.
Orcs? No, too small for that. Judging from the mildly fat belly, hunched posture, shark teeth, and long arms…
Goblins. Undoubtedly. But how can they be so tall, so frightening…
Ksyusha cannot comprehend. She refuses to.
The average goblin to her best knowledge is the size of a child.
But this? As tall as the tallest humans.
Doesn't matter.
Nothing does beside their intent.
Why are they surrounding Sveta, grinning so madly yet so… delightfully?
Ksyusha scratches her forehead so hard blood covers her sight. The mirror has drained all her mana, and the sword has been left in her room.
Just how is she supposed to fight those fearsome bastards?
Should she?
Won't she be giving her life away for nothing?
Even in her best state, she can barely handle a group of normal goblins, and the goblins she faces now look like little brothers of orcs.
No.
It is not a matter of whether she should or not.
She must.
"HEEEEEEEY!" she screams, attempting to divert their attention.
But they're too far. She has swam too far ahead, and now the crashing noises of waterfalls not far from her drown all the other noises.
Ksyusha is sure that if she is to leap a bit further away, she will fall from the isle to the skies, or worse, hit the barrier covering the isle headfirst and turn into a puddle of blood.
"ARRRRGHHHHHHH-" she shrills once more, this time, with all she's got, to the point where her lungs scream also, as though bleeding. "AAARGH- ARGHHH! ARGHHH… AGHH-"
Yet the green-skinned bastards don't even budge.
Then suddenly, the one in the middle who looks tallest and most fearsome of all, drops to the ground.
He mounts Sveta, closing in on her face, either licking… or kissing… or eating.
Sveta jolts back, shouting with all she's got.
The goblin grabs her neck, grinning maddeningly at her the terror on her face, drooling with sticky saliva.
The other goblins merely watch, jerking off from the sidelines with their massive, veiny cocks clasped with the two of their muddy hands.
Ksyusha floats, speechless, helpless, hopeless. Alone. Abandoned.
Isolated.
She shuts her eyes. Rushes ahead with the both of her hands as though a shark is chasing her. Flaps her feet so fast and so fiercely they send aftershocks.
Halfway through, her left hand gives in. No matter how hard she tries, it doesn't flinch, paralyzed.
She turns her body and swims with the back of her head facing the waters. Ksyusha kicks, screams with all she has amidst her breaths, and gazes at the sky, wanting to kill it.
High, high above is a small, red star, gazing back at her.
Finally, after galloping so much salty water she feels sick and paralyzing her second arm, her head hits sand.
She shoots up, her hands hanging. Runs toward the shore before her eyes land on a trail of blood. Human blood.
Not hers.
She bends. Throws up. Then falls. Gulps in more water and whatever she just threw up. Then throws up. Again.
Ksyusha hallucinates. Her head burns more than her entire body.
Her heart races, but it feels like it doesn't even function.
Yet she somehow breathes still.
Ksyusha instinctively, yet reluctantly, turns her head, looking at the source of blood.
There, a single head lies.
She crawls toward it to take a better look, and the head looks back, staring past her.
"A-a-a-a-a-AAA-a-aa-a…" Ksyusha mumbles to herself in a broken tandem.
Sveta's light, brown eyes are filled with salt. Tears, and waters, and dirt, and blood.
They are frozen in terror.
Her dark, blonde hair is almost completely torn apart, floating beside, glued to sticky substances.
Ksyusha hyperventilates. Her vision blurs. Yet she forces herself to see what she has done to her Sveta.
One ear is hanging, the other completely missing, just like most of the teeth.
Her mouth is agape, filled with residue.
Ksyusha lowers herself to meet her eyes. Grabs the head, falls back, and embraces it with her lips, kissing.
Sperm flows to her tongue. Sweat, yet somehow the sourest and the most disgusting thing she's ever tasted. Yet she gallops it. Licks. Chews. Bites.
This must be a nightmare. A long, cruel nightmare. She knows.
She just has to close her eyes, fall back to sleep, and everything is going to be just like it has always been.
Sveta waking her and reprimanding her for the injuries sustained during the training…
Bring her some saffron tea with the half cup missing in substance…
Tease her for her nonexistent taste in clothes…
Smile at her…
Laugh with her…
Cry with her.
But she is dead.
Because of her.