Prologue: Pursuit

Claire ran. She ran at a speed where lungs felt like furnaces within her own skin, and in some ways, she knew it was true. The wind carried traces of smoke as she whizzed past trees, sprinting her way to any place she thought that could give her a better chance at survival.

Distinct howls pierced the night air and she knew that the hunting dogs were close. They were careful in tiring her. Their master must have underestimated the endurance of a normal village girl.

The girl smiled faintly, she never knew that the endless village chores would ever come in handy someday. Although her smiling face easily crumpled up as tears started welling in her eyes. ‘The village has probably burnt to ashes by now…’, she thought.

'Mom... Dad...'

The dark night blurred through the lenses of her tears and the rancid smell of burnt wood and flesh made her as lightheaded as she could be. A sharp pang of pain on her feet brought her back to her senses, but a nearby growl from a hunting dog was enough of a distraction for her not to care about her apparent injury.

Her feet brushed against rocks and bushes. There was only so little she could see in the dead of the night. And as the numbness delivered by adrenaline started to fade away, it was steadily replaced by the intense fatigue which shook her entire body.

Claire didn’t know how much or how far she had been running. Surely more than a few minutes have passed by. Had it been an hour? It didn’t feel like it had been an hour. She felt like she had been running for days—for weeks even. Time seemed to slow down as the chase went on, and every step started to feel like wading through water.

Her feet pulsed with a burning pain, sending messages for to stop—to slow down. To rest. She just couldn’t. The hounds pestered her with growls and threats every time she seemed to slow down even by a step. She couldn’t stop now. She had to live. She had to have an explanation for the hell she went through. She had to live. And for that, she had to continue running.

The world blurred past as the hunt ran on. Her hair had become a tangled mess of twigs and leaves, but she did not care. Claire's eyes darted for anything that she could use as a tool to fend of the hounds. The forest at night was as full of opportunities to escape as it was of hazards.  

Ahead, a glimmer of moonlight revealed a hint of vines, hanging from a branch. Its greenish hues acted like a beacon to the wary girl. Each step towards that beacon felt like ten. With her breathing labored, Claire sped up, her eyes locked on to the vines. She didn't know exactly what she can do with them, but they are currently her lifeline.

Claire had reached the base of the tree, arm outstretch towards the hanging vines when her vision blurred as the ground spun—to be precise, she stumbled forwards and rolled with all of her momentum as one of the hounds chasing her had caught up and snagged her already-torn skirt from beneath. Her head recoiled from the impact