The rain is miserable.

At first, the downpour had been a relief, washing the blood and grime off of my rags and body as I stumbled across the clearing to the forest.

But now? The wet has seeped beneath my skin, into my blood, through my bones. The wind howls mercilessly behind the clouds, whipping my hair into a wild dance. The land that looked flat from a distance is actually full of divots and ridges and potholes that trip me up and send me flailing into the mud and the wet. My stumbling steps aim straight for the forest that never seems to grow closer, even whilst the sun sinks below the horizon.

I cannot see the stars tonight, hidden as they are behind the thick blanket of clouds. I shiver, the keys in my cold fingers jangling harshly.

My shoulder aches, throbbing with every step. I want to give up. To collapse here and let the rain carry me away. Nameless. Broken.

I am so tired. So very tired. My knees buckle. Exhaustion seeps through my my vein. The mud splashed as my knees hit the ground. My eyes flutter open and shut again as my body wages war against my will.

And then, just when it feels as though my eyes have closed for the last time, I hear something.

My eyes fling open as the faint sound of something dances in the air. I cannot think of a word to name the sweet sound that weaves its way around me. Kneeling there, in the mud and wind and rain and cold, I am totally and completely captivated. The sound is so, so, so wonderful; I never want it to stop.

A tear runs down my face and joins the rain in a puddle on the ground. My hands push against the mud, my legs straighten, and I lurch forwards again. The sound is snatched away by the wind and I cry out and begin to run towards the forest. I need to hear that sound again. I need to. I loose count of how many times my legs fail to keep me upright in my mad scramble for relief. I am sobbing, wailing, begging for the wind to abate so I can hear it again.

And then, after an eternity of struggling through the winter storm, I reach the forest. It happens slowly, and then all at once. A tree here, a fallen branch, a shadow. Under the twisted canopy of branches, the rain slows to a few large drops, leaking from the leaves. I pause under an aged tree, my heart pounding mercilessly against my ribs, my breath wheezing as it escapes my lungs.

I listen into the silence, stretching my hearing as far as I can.

There, faint against the rustling leaves, rises that— that— oh, I do not know the word! But I hear it, and everything  in me yearns to hear better. I trip over myself in my haste to follow the sound.

The ground is a lot harder here than the rain-soaked earth of the clearing. My shoulder throbs and I grip the arrow until the pain lessens and I can stand again. I set off through the tangle of branches and roots again, more cautious this time, but still just as desperate to find the source of that sound. The branches poke at my calloused feet. Blood seeps through the wound in my shoulder. The keys jangle harshly with every misstep. But the sound keeps getting louder, even with the downpour behind it. And so I keep going.

The forest melts into a blur of black and green, and then, suddenly, I can see lights ahead. My breath comes in ragged puffs, but exhilaration overrides my exhaustion. I'm about to charge into the light when the last of my rational thought halts me.

The sound is so overwhelming I can barely process my worries, but an entire lifetime in captivity has taught me nothing if not overwhelming caution. The lights- I can now see the tell-tale flickering of flames- are only a stone's throw away and so I walk quietly, slowly, more carefully through the tangled boughs.

I arrive at the outskirts of the light, a large clearing rounded by sturdy trees, and the world seems to shift and blur. What feels like thousands of figures move in patterns, weaving around the large fires, talking in a language I do not understand. I want to get closer, to join in, but I feel so out of place. Barefoot and dressed in rags, covered head to toe in mud and sopping wet, injured and exhausted, my place is not among these— these— these— heavenly beings.

And yet I still want to get closer. I look up in despair, blinking through the light rain, and there, leaning over the clearing, is a large branch. The tree it's connected to lies on the other side of the clearing, but I am willing to do anything, even cross the desert, to reach the sound.

I barely notice when my feet begin to carry me around the ring of trees, and before I know it, the earth is below me. When the climb becomes more difficult, I prop the arrow against the trunk and loop the keyring around my forearm before continuing. The branches of this tree are sturdy and close together, making the climb an easy one. It doesn't take long before the ground is to far below me to look and the overhanging branch is within reach. I push off of the branch I'm standing on, latch on to the long branch, and pull myself up, ignoring my aching shoulder and trembling muscles. I may be weak, but I am desperate. I swing my leg up over the branch and finally, finally, am where I want to be.

The sound engulfs me and I cannot help but to lean forward on the branch. Closing my eyes, I let the warmth of the fires surround me and the beauty of the sound engulfs me. A branch slides down my arm, and I open my eyes to brush it off.

But it's not a branch.

It's the keys I hooked around my arm so I could climb.

They're falling.

For a moment, they catch on my fingertips.

I lean forward even more to grab them.

My fist latches on the rusted metal ring.

My legs slip.

The ground is getting a lot closer a lot quicker than I ever want it to.

I scream over the music, my arms flailing, the keys banging against each other. The trees seem to be laughing at me. I close my eyes and wait for the darkness to take me.

I hit the ground, but it's not nearly as hard as I expected it to be. There is silence, the sound gone, and I open my eyes to stare at the clouded sky.

The rain has slowed to merely a fine mist. I exhale in relief. I survived, albeit with a few more bruises.

Someone groans and the ground shifts underneath me. In a flash, I realize where I am. I roll over and gaze frantically at the frozen people surrounding me.

"Ma ataltare?" The voice is clear and bell-like; I find myself captivated as I turn to face who I fell on.

My breath catches in my throat. Laying on the ground is someone clothed all in white, their hair silver as stars, a gilded glass in their hand. They sit up, a ring of frosted twigs perched on their brow. It's a he, I think, as I watch his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

And then I meet his eyes.

They are a startling blue, ice cold yet hiding a vulnerability I can not decipher. They seem to pierce right through me, cutting me to the edge of my soul, sifting through my hidden darkness, invasive yet enthralling. I cannot move under his gaze.

"Ú- Nadh anwa, adh gaur! Amapta-ei!" His cry startles me out of my trance, and though I can't understand it, the movement of people towards me is meaning enough. They mean to capture me again.

I will not be held and tortured again. I have had my taste of freedom, and I am not sick of it yet. I swing the keys and hit the man I fell on straight in the face. He crashes to the ground again, blood pouring from from his nose. I feel a twinge of guilt, but not enough to keep me rooted to the ground.

I push off the ground, tired and sore as I am, and flee back into the forest.

I will not be taken back by the darkness. Not this time. Not again.

*shamefully peeks around corner*
Hello? I'm sorry this is like a month late?

Please let me know what you think!! I hope to have the next chapter posted sooner that this one was, but no promises. ;)

Thanks for reading!!

Spirit