To Stay in the Living Lands

This is the second-to-last snippet, Next Monday will bring the conclusion! I’m excited to share it with you!

Chapter Five part One

Cassandra fell to her knees. She felt numb. Useless. Nothing. Weak. The Dark Lord was right. Cassandra would never want to serve the King. Why would he even bother to heal her? Even if she did, he wouldn’t help her. Useless. She stood and clenched her jaw. She would make him. She continued to run, picking her way over the stones. When she fell, she didn’t even get bruised. The path evened out, and soon she found herself practically flying through. She saw a sign and slowed to read it. 

Well done Cassandra, now for the hardest part of your journey. Trust the King. The hard part? What could possibly be harder than what was behind her? She didn’t feel tired, hungry, or thirsty, and she was running faster than it had ever been possible. Cassandra. Slavery. The thought rang through her head. Cassandra stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t be trapped again. She began to panic, pacing back and form. The rest of her life in slavery. 

No. She shook herself. He wouldn’t do that. She took in a deep breath. But what if he does? Cassandra began to run. She ran to be healed, but also to escape the voice. She wanted to believe. Wanted badly. But how could he be as good as they said? Nothing. The King lived far away. The path was rough and plagued with peril. Why didn’t he just live in the village and make things easier? 

She saw the edge of the forest. There was a hill not far off and a castle at the top. If she continued at the pace she was going, it would take her a quarter of an hour. The sun was getting low, and the stars would be coming out soon. The moon would go dark. She had to make it to the King before then. Easy. 

She made it to the edge of the forest. She gasped and crumpled the moment she was out. 

Cassandra almost screamed in pain as she gasped on her hands and knees. She was covered in scrapes and bruises. Weak. The bottoms of her feet were bleeding, and her knee had a nasty cut on it where she had fallen. She was thirsty and hungry. She opened her pack and drank, but found she had no more food. Odd. She tossed it off her shoulder, she couldn’t carry herself, let alone extra weight. She shakily stood up and limped for a few steps before collapsing again. She stood again, this time using a small stubby stick for support. 

She made it to the bottom of the hill. It was steep. Too steep. She tried to walk but tumbled to the bottom almost instantly. She sighed and began to crawl. Her left foot faded. The toes on her right foot had gone transparent. Useless. She crawled, grabbing onto rocks as she crawled up the steep hill. Halfway up, she slipped. She screamed, tumbling down the hill until she landed at the bottom. Angry, tired, hungry, and desperately thirsty, Cassandra screamed up at the tower. 

“If you’re really supposed to heal me, then help me already! They call you kind and loving, and yet you won’t even help me up this stupid hill,” Cassandra broke down sobbing. The sun had set, and the stars were coming out. The moon was rising. Already, it was turning dark. She swallowed her tears and started over. Almost there. Almost there. She ignored what she would do when she got there. But the thought kept coming back. You are Nothing.

Who was she kidding? The King would never help her. She stopped resisting the voice in her head. It was right. She was useless, nothing, and weak. She wouldn’t even be helped when she got to the top. She would make it, and die. Cassandra’s shoulders shook as she sobbed. Both feet had faded. Her palms were cut and bleeding. The top seemed farther away than ever. Cassandra could barely breathe between pulling herself from one rock to the next and sobbing. Weak

The sun sank lower. 

Cassandra could no longer cry. Her throat was so parched she couldn’t even speak. Her eyes stung. 

She kept climbing. Something in her willed her to keep going.

Half of her shins had faded. They were blue and transparent. The only upside was that she couldn’t feel the cuts and bruises she knew were there. Useless.

The moon rose higher. She could see the darkness overtaking it. She sucked in her breath and began to climb more. She was practically dragging herself up. Every rock, root, and grassy patch served as a handhold. Her feet were useless. Cassandra knew that the moment she fully faded, she’d be able to walk, but not in the way she wanted to. Nothing.

The moon was covered halfway. 

With a triumphant grunt, she rolled to the top, at the foot of the gate. A tall man stood there. So, not only after that grueling climb do I have to get into the Castle to see the King as well? she took in a breath

“Please, I need to I need to see the King,”