The woods were screaming.
Not with sound, not exactly. It was more like the rustle of angry leaves, the snap of branches clawing at my skin, and the blood thundering in my ears. The cold was biting, sharper than the pain in my belly, though the gash there pulsed with every frantic step I took. My breath came out in ragged huffs, white against the night air, vanishing almost as soon as it formed. I pressed a trembling hand against the wound, trying to hold myself together.
My fingers came away wet and red.
"Water..." I rasped, my throat raw, my lips cracked. "Please... just a little..."
No one answered. Only the forest. The roots snagged at my feet like hands. The branches whipped across my face, tracing stinging lines down my cheeks. The trees were closing in. Or maybe my vision was narrowing.
I couldn't stop. I knew if I stopped, I would die.
But I was slowing. My legs no longer listened to me, too short and too weak and too tired. My feet slipped on the mossy ground. I caught myself against a tree and nearly vomited from the shock of pain in my abdomen.
I didn't know what was chasing me anymore. The shadows? The memory of her voice? My own bloodline?
"Water..." I tried again, weaker this time. My knees gave out. The earth rushed up to meet me.
And then... black.
____________________
I woke to warmth.
Not sunlight, no. Firelight. Soft, flickering, wrapping everything in a golden hue that felt so good on my face, comfortable.
The scent of herbs and smoke filled my nose. Something soft and cool pressed against my forehead. Fingers. Gentle. Calloused.
"Easy now, little one,"a voice whispered. Rough like gravel, but warm. Familiar in a way I couldn't explain. "You're safe."
My eyes flew open. The ceiling above me was made of thick animal hide stretched over wood. Shadows danced on it as the fire crackled beside me. I tried to sit up, but my body screamed in protest.
"Where am I?" I gasped, heart racing. My voice sounded so small.
The old woman at my side reached out, brushing damp curls from my face. Her eyes were dark, knowing. There was silver streaked in her hair, and her skin bore lines of wisdom, not age.
"You're within the territory of the Devourer's Rebels," she said softly. "You crossed into Clan Aethoryn land, child."
That name meant nothing. Everything. I didn't know.
Panic surged through me. "Who are you? Why--? Why was I in the woods?"
I turned my head, trying to piece it together. The fire burned low beside me, a pot hanging above it. It smelled of root stew. Something shifted in the shadows.
That's when I saw him.
A boy, he looked bigger than me, sat in the corner near the door, knees drawn up, one arm slung lazily over them. His hair was black and straight, brushing his shoulders. But his eyes--
His eyes were green. Not green like leaves or moss. No. They were bright, fluorescent, like staring up through the canopy of trees when the sun is highest, when everything glows with impossible color.
But they weren't kind.
They weren't soft like the old lady's.
They were sharp, narrowed, full of something like suspicion--or worse, scorn. And they were fixed on me. Watching. Unblinking. Uncaring.
I flinched.
"She's awake," he said. His voice was calm, but not friendly. He didn't move.
The woman gave him a warning glance, then turned back to me. "Don't be afraid of Rhyen. He's... difficult. But not cruel."
Rhyen didn't react to her words. His expression didn't change.
"Who are you?" he asked suddenly. His voice was low and steady, but it felt like a knife slicing through fog.
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
My name. My name. What was it?
"I... am..."
My tongue turned to sand. My throat closed. My mind was empty. A void where memories should be. There was a flash of moonlight. Screams. A woman's face. Blood. A scream that might have been my own.
I tried again. "I am... I..."
The old woman's brow furrowed. She leaned closer. "What do you remember, child?"
"Nothing," I whispered.
My voice trembled. My body shook with it.
"I don't remember anything."
---
They let me stay.
Or maybe they had no choice. I couldn't walk. Could barely sit. My wound was deeper than I first thought, and though the old woman-Myrrha, she said her name was--cleaned and bandaged it, she seemed concerned about how long I'd been bleeding.
"You were almost gone when Rhyen found you," she told me later. "Collapsed under the moon. Bleeding into the moss. It's a wonder the forest didn't finish what others started."
I wanted to ask her what she meant, but I was too tired.
The hut was small, and dim, and smelled of woodsmoke and sage. My bed was nothing more than a thick pile of furs, but it was the warmest, softest thing I'd ever known. Still, I couldn't sleep. Not fully.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes.
Silver light.
Blood.
A soft voice singing lullabies. A scream.
I tried to explain it to Myrrha once, but she just hushed me. "Memories come when they are meant to. Don't force them."
But Rhyen didn't speak to me again.
Not for days.
He came and went like a shadow, slipping through the hut when Myrrha sent him on errands. His green eyes followed me sometimes, not with cruelty, but with suspicion. Like I was a puzzle he wanted to solve.
I didn't know why his presence made my chest tighten.
Or why his voice lingered after he was gone.
---
One night, I found the strength to sit up alone.
The fire crackled low. Myrrha had gone to speak with someone outside. The wind whispered through the cracks in the wooden walls.
Rhyen was meditating
He didn't look at me, but I knew he knew I was there.
"You still don't remember?" he asked.
His voice startled me. I clutched the fur blanket tighter.
"No," I admitted.
He paused. The green in his eyes caught the firelight and shimmered. For a moment, I thought he might say something cruel.
But he didn't.
He just sighed. "Then you're not much use to anyone yet."
That stung more than I expected.
"I didn't ask to be here," I said softly.
That made him look up. His gaze was direct. Intense.
" Yet here you are", he said, in a very mocking tone.
" And If you can't remember your own damn name, how about we just call you Nyx?", he looked at me for the first time actually LOOKED at me.
"Nyx? What does that mean?", his face immediately dropped after hearing me.
" Are you seriously telling me you don't know the name of one of the most powerful goddess? The goddess of night?", he looked genuinely concerned while asking that.
" I don't... Remember...", I couldn't even look at him.
" Well, Nyx is the primordial God of night, I want to give you that name since I found you at night being illuminated by the moon", he turned around into a corner and grabbed some books.
He gave them to me and said " Since you're here, and you can't do anything to help out, how about you study a little", and then he just left, not even telling me what exactly I'm reading.