Chapter 2: The Awakening

The first thing I realized was that this wasn’t the packhouse. 

Then when my memories started coming back to me. The accusations, the fire….i was supposed to be dead.

My heart raced wildly. I glanced around and pulled my brows together. This place doesn’t look anything like how the afterlife was described. It couldn’t be the afterlife. 

Maybe I wasn’t dead afterall.

I tried to move my body upwards, but I was in so much pain that  I ended up with my back on the bed, waiting for whatever or whoever was going to come.

I saw the doorknob being turned and forced myself to sit. My heart raced as the door opened. A man who looked to be in his early or late sixties walked in. I shook my head, my eyes brimming with tears. ‘Please don’t hurt me.’

 I wished he could hear me. I wished I could speak out.

“Thank the gods!” he exclaimed and then when his eyes met mine, he smiled, his eyes gleamed as he did so. “Don’t worry,” he said,  his  voice was rough but for some reasons, I felt calm. “You’re safe here.”

He stepped closer, but I wasn’t convinced. Not after all the injustice I had been through.

I moved away from him, shifting to the other side of the bed. My breath came out in ragged gasps. 

“I brought food,” he said and that was when I noticed what he was carrying.

He placed it gently on the table. “You’re severely malnourished. You need to eat if you want to get better quickly.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and he raised his hand. “I mean no harm, I promise you,” he sat down on the single chair in the room, an old piece of furniture that looked as though it had been taken from the dumps. 

“I found you near the edge of the forest," he started. “You were barely breathing. I thought you were already gone.”

I realized that he had a habit of smoothing his grey beards whenever he spoke.

He didn’t realize that  I couldn’t answer him. He didn’t know I was mute.

He was saying something but I wasn’t even listening. It was only until he left that I breathed normally. 

Days passed. I remained in the little cabin. The man came and went. He always brought food, checked my wounds and spoke about his catch in the forest and about his day. I wasn’t sure he told me his name and I didn’t ask either.

On the fifth day, when he brought a plate of porridge to me, I did something that surprised even me. I reached out and touched his arm. He stopped and turned to me, his eyes widening.

Then, slowly, I lifted my hands and began to move them.

He frowned. “Are you trying to say something?”

I nodded and signed again.

His brows furrowed deeper, then he nodded with understanding. “You can’t speak.”

I nodded again.

The next few days, he taught me how to write and also told me his name. Arthur

He lived alone and was a hunter. He had been coming back from his hunting trip when he had seen me. He thought I was dead and wanted to bury me.

“You can stay here as long as you need,” he told me. I had no idea why he cared, but I nodded anyway. I owed him my life.

One evening, about two weeks later, Arthur stumbled in,clutching his arm. Blood soaked his shirt.

Fear coursed through my veins. I couldn’t let anything happen to him. He was all I had left! He was just like the father I never could have. 

He waved his good hand. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, trying to sound calm, but his face had gone pale.

He wasn’t fine! He was losing a lot of blood! I ran to his backyard where I had seen lots of medicinal herbs. It was fortunate that he had them close to his house.

I began crushing them, mixing them the way Zora had taught me years ago.

He watched me in confusion.

“You know what you’re doing?” he asked, his brows pulled tightly together. He didn’t seem like he was convinced.

I nodded, gesturing for him to sit. I moved my hand, trying to assure him that this was my turf. 

He obeyed, still unconvinced as I pressed the paste against his wound and wrapped it with a clean cloth. 

When I finished, he stared at the bandage, then at me. “Wow! I can feel my arm healing. Where did you learn this?”

I replied with a smile. 

After that, people began to come.

At first, it was just  hunters with a broken leg or a small bruise,  then a woman with sick children. Then a rogue, wounded and desperate. Arthur said nothing, he only nodded each time I opened the door for them.

I didn’t ask for any form of payment, but they gave me things like food items. Some gave me a few coins which I took because they forced me to. I felt like doing that brought me closer to Zora and was a way to dull the ache I felt inside me.

“Tomorrow's your Eighteenth birthday…” Arthur stated it one night, that was the night before my eighteenth birthday. I had told him before and was surprised that he remembered the date.

I nodded. I didn’t know if he mentioned it because he was planning to surprise me, but I didn’t care about my birthday. I had never cared and I wouldn’t start now.

****

I stood in the empty room again. My legs hurt! I felt every joint  in my legs scream for me to sit, but I just couldn’t.

My lungs burned as though they had been deprived of oxygen. My chest heaved repeatedly.

Ahead of me was a silver cage and inside it was a Wolf

Its fur was white, almost ash, her eyes was silver, the most beautiful shade I had ever seen. Unlike my previous dreams, this time, she moved. She paced relentlessly and snarled. 

I was having this  dream more often  now and for some reason this time, I wasn’t scared. I wanted to stay still and find out what was going to happen.

“Who are you?” I tried to say, but no sound came. I tried to ask and wondered if I was going crazy. 

The wolf stopped. Then, it lunged at the cage. The wolf was relentless, it wanted to leave the cage by all means. 

Then, a voice came from far away.  It was a female’s voice.

“Rylah Duskborn!” A loud voice  that came out as a grotesque mix of an angry roar and a low growl screamed out. 

I turned around, my eyes darting around to find who it was, but there was no one. I furrowed my brows. I was sure that I had heard my name, although a mix up. I wasn’t a Duskborn.

I heard the cage open and I turned.  The silver from its eyes shone so brightly that it hurt my eyes. The wolf lunged forward. I couldn't see it clearly, but I felt it hit me with so much force that I fell to  the ground. If it was fear or something else, I couldn't tell but I was unable to move any of my limbs.

I tried to pull away and that was when I woke up

I was completely covered with sweat. My heart raced so fast I thought I would die of a ruptured heart. For a moment, I didn’t move. Then I moved the blanket away  and walked to the small bathroom.

I splashed water on my face and shivered as the cold water seeped into my skin. 

Something in the mirror caught my eyes and I turned to look at it. To confirm if I had imagined it or if it was real. 

My eyes widened and I took a step back. 

Beyond the pale skin and pink lips, a part of my very  dark hair had now turned to silver. A very shiny silver which glowed. 

No sound left my lips, but the scream tore through me anyway and the voice from earlier filled my head again.

“Rylah Duskborn.”