Chapter 7

The days that followed blurred together in a hazy routine of rest and recovery. Graham's humble hut became my entire world as I slowly regained my strength, the crimson-tinted forest surrounding us fading into the backdrop.

True to his brusque yet caring nature, Graham diligently tended to my needs. He'd wake me periodically to drink broths fortified with wild herbs and forced me to attempt simple stretches and exercises as soon as I could withstand them, despite my groans of protesting agony.

-Need to get those muscles working again, he'd grunt in that no-nonsense tone. Lying about won't do you any favors.

I quickly learned there was no arguing with Graham once his mind was set. So I grudgingly complied with his regimen, channeling my seemingly boundless reserves of unanswered questions into stubborn determination to heal.

In those early days, a pall of awkward tension hung over our interactions, neither of us daring to broach the subject of my newfound...abilities. Graham's furtive sidelong glances spoke volumes of the uncertainty he struggled to conceal. I didn't dare raise the Issue either, the implications of what I'd done - what I apparently was - still too terrifying to fully confront.

Instead, we fell into an unspoken rhythm of coexisting in practical, immediate needs. He hunted and foraged, preparing meager meals over the fire. I exercised and slept, delving inwardly to plumb the void of my forgotten identity. It was an existence distilled down to the basest fundamentals of human survival, free of complexity or nuance.

Until one evening when Graham broke the mold as we sat across the crackling flames in contemplative silence. His next words unlocked the door to the greater world beyond our cloistered refuge.

-I'll need to make a supply run soon, he said, adjusting the pair of pelts he used as provisional bedding. These stores won't last much longer, and we're running low on bandages for your dressings.

My eyes flicked up from studying the twisting patterns of the fire's tendrils.

-Supply run? You mean journey somewhere?

Graham nodded gruffly. To the nearest city, an iron-flecked mining town called Malakar. It's a few days' trek through the foothills, but they've got resources there I can barter for - salves, tonics, preserved foods.

-I'll go with you, I said without a second's hesitation. The thought of breaking free from the monotony of recovery, of venturing out into the wider world even briefly, made my heart skip with anticipation.

-Like hell you will. Graham's voice was as hard and unyielding as an unworked steel blade. You're in no condition for that kind of travel after the mauling you took. I move quickly over harsh terrain - you'd just slow me down.

Stubborn defiance flared within me, that same relentlessness that fueled my healing regimen.

-You can't leave me behind here alone! What if something happens while you're gone?

-Nothing's going to happen, Graham said with finality, avoiding my gaze as he began banking the fire for the night. We haven't seen so much as a stray woodland critter around here since...well, you know. This place has been dead as a crypt.

I opened my mouth to protest further, honing in on his refusal to invoke the memory of that fateful battle with the serpent. But he cut me off with a raised hand, those intense eyes finally meeting mine across the flickering hearth.

-You're staying here, Amara. That's final. End of discussion.

For a moment, frustrated rage swelled in my chest - at his high-handedness, at my own lingering physical weakness, at the cruel twist of fate that had deposited me in this nightmare forest with a half-remembered life. I wanted to lash out, to hurl invective and challenge his arbitrary decision to dictate my actions.

But as quickly as that anger sparked, it guttered out, smothered by the reality of my situation. What choice did I truly have here? Graham's combat and survival prowess had saved me multiple times already, and for all my bluster, any attempt at forcing my way along on this journey would only put us both at risk.

-Fine, I bit out through gritted teeth, silently vowing to revisit this impasse once I'd regained my full faculties. Graham merely gave a curt nod and lay back, features inscrutable.

I lay awake long into the night, senses attuned to every eldritch whisper beyond the hut's walls, chafing bitterly against my continued confinement yet powerless to alter my course. One way or another, those restrictions would not last - I could feel it as tangibly as the blood pounding through my veins.

Something had awoken inside me, impossibly vast and uncharted. And I would not be contained forever. 

The morning Graham departed dawned crisp and bright, the filtered sunlight lending the crimson forest an almost welcoming glow. I hung back in the shadows of the hut as he made his final preparations, watching furtively through the warped glass pane of the shuttered window.

Graham moved with efficient, economical motions, securing his travel pack and checking over his weapons with the practiced hands of a seasoned outdoorsman. He wore a hooded cloak now, the deep cowl shading his features, and carried a stout oak staff in addition to the sheathed longsword belted at his hip.

Only when he was fully equipped did Graham finally turn towards the cabin, hesitating with one calloused hand resting on the door frame. For a moment, I wondered if he sensed my intent gaze, if some preternatural survival instinct triggered an inkling of wariness. His head swiveled fractionally towards the window before he seemed to think better of whatever he detected.

-Stay safe, Graham murmured in a low tone that nonetheless carried a strange tenderness. And for your own sake, stay put until I return. This world...it's not one you want to face unprepared.

With those parting words, he adjusted the lay of his traveling cloak and struck off in a loping gait, heading southeast in the direction of the distant foothills silhouetted against the crimson skyline. I tracked his dwindling form from the window until the shifting dapples of ruby treelight swallowed him whole.

Only then did I extricate myself from my hiding spot and set about preparing in earnest to follow after him at first light on the morrow.

Despite Graham's dire warnings, the decision gave me no pause whatsoever. If anything, his counsel merely stoked the restless, smoldering drive that had been kindled when I first unleashed my inexplicable powers. I could no more stay put, biding my time like a docile pup awaiting its master's return, than I could erase those newfound revelations from the core of my being.

The simmering hunger for answers, for purpose, for a truth to shape the void of my existence around - it was all-consuming in its intensity. If the path to understanding began by flouting Graham's overprotectiveness, then so be it. I would burn that bridge when I came to it.

By the time the first rays of dawn's crimson light began to spill through the window slats, I was packed and outfitted as well as my meager resources would allow. A sturdy satchel held what remained of Graham's foraged food supplies and spare gear, including the small knife and tinder pouch he'd used to prepare our meals and fires.

My threadbare tunic and breeches were ill-suited for any sort of extreme travel conditions, but they'd have to suffice. I left behind the ragged blankets Graham had provided, favoring freedom of mobility and stealth over warmth and comfort. Who knew what rigors awaited along the path I was about to tread?

Well, I supposed Graham did, which was all the more reason I needed to follow his trail unnoticed and keep my presence undetected for as long as possible. The notion of his gruff lecturing, or worse, physically impeding me from accompanying him, was simply non-negotiable.

With the crimson sun rising in the sky, I tugged the hood of my ragged cloak low over my brow and ventured out into the unknown wilderness, focused intently on the path Graham's boot steps had carved through the carpeting of scarlet foliage. My course was set, heedless of the untold dangers awaiting me, driven by the solitary lodestar of unraveling the enigma I had become.

I would have my answers, whatever the cost. Graham was simply the first obstacle I needed to circumvent along the way.

The trail went cold shortly after midday.

One moment, I was scrutinizing Graham's fading bootprints and broken twigs for any sign of his direction. The next, the crimson forest seemed to dissolve around me into an impenetrable, disorienting sameness of endless twisting trunks and scarlet canopies.

Unease prickled at the nape of my neck as I gradually realized the path had disappeared entirely, leaving me adrift in this endless crimson sea. Every direction I turned revealed the same ubiquitous sea of ruddy bark and foliage.

-Graham? I called out tentatively at first, then again with more insistence as panic took root. Graham!

My voice seemed to fall flat and lifeless, smothered by the ubiquitous silence. How could the trail have simply vanished like smoke on the wind? We couldn't have been more than a half-day's march from the hut.

Pulse hammering in my ears, I spun in a bewildered circle seeking any notable landmark, any inkling as to which way led back towards the path I'd lost. But it was all the same, a disorienting continuum of identical crimson woodland mercilessly repeating in every direction.

-Looking for someone?

The gruff voice materialized from behind me, setting my heart jackrabbiting against my ribcage. I whipped around to find Graham emerging from a seemingly innocuous thicket, arms crossed over his barrel chest and expression thunderous.

-By all rights, I shouldn't be surprised, he growled, shucking his hood back to fix me with those piercing eyes. I had a notion you'd try pulling a stunt like this the moment my back was turned.

I opened my mouth, scrambling for any excuse or justification, but Graham cut me off with a curt wave of his hand.

-Save it. I don't have the patience to listen to whatever foolish reasoning possessed you to throw self-preservation to the wind. His tone softened a hair, tinged with something like weary resignation. Weren't my warnings about the dangers clear enough?

My cheeks burned with shame at his rebukes, which struck deeper than any indignant protestations I could muster. I was the recalcitrant child caught disobeying the wizened parent's sage counsel, fueled by arrogant self-importance.

Graham's next words lanced through that embarrassed silence with surprising pragmatism.

-Well, you've had your way and blown your own chance at staying behind unattended. He made a curt gesture down the path he'd emerged from, now glaringly obvious amid the unchanging woodland vista.

-We're still several hours out from Malakar at this pace, but like it or not, you've opted to see this journey through to its end.

With that, he turned on his heel and strode off without a backwards glance, clearly expecting me to follow along obediently in his wake. I hesitated only briefly before trailing after him, chastened and uncertain.

The shadows were growing long by the time the forest's dimness began to yield to a warm amber glow along the horizon. We crested a sloping ridgeline just as the last rays of crimson sunlight ignited the landscape before us in molten hues.

There, nestled amid the gnarled foothills like a smoldering ember, flickered the torchlit shanties and spiraling smokestacks of a ramshackle mining town. Our destination - the iron-flecked city of Malakar.