The Duchess Cannot Sleep || ONC 2021

5 | The Stranger

In one moment Andreya was right where she wanted to be—alone in the cold, miserable dark—and in the next she found herself paralyzed, staring wide-eyed at two strange men who stared right back, eyes also wide. She had just finished fleeing from her own people, and now she was prisoner to these new people instead. She might have screamed had she not forgotten how to breathe.

Andreya lurched to her feet and staggered on tingling limbs before the younger of the men jumped forward to steer her away from the fire. Then she was gaping in horror, mere inches away from him as he braced each of her shoulders and looked almost as startled as her. In the firelight, it became glaringly obvious neither man with their light hair and downturned eyes was Nasavtean.

"Are you alright?" he asked. His accent gave him away.

Andreya squeaked and tried to shimmy from his grip and he let go with an immediate apology. She took several steps back and paused at the rub of leather between her fingers—she had at some point donned gloves far too large for her—and her eyes flicked between her hands and the two men for several seconds. Her sheet from the mortuary was lying in a heap near where she'd been laying. A campfire crackled.

They were not attacking her, or casting insults, or cowering from her. In a contrast that had her filing through doubts, they actually seemed worried for her. Andreya blinked several times.

"What am I doing here?" Her voice was small and high-pitched. She curled her toes in the freezing soil. "Who are you?"

The man who had caught her shared a glance with the older man before turning back to her. "My name is Reide Hafiless, and this is my hunting partner, Stasen Torr. We found you not an hour ago in the forest. How are you feeling? You were so cold I was afraid you wouldn't make it."

Afraid?... Andreya's fear had for some reason abandoned her in lieu of an unwelcome curiosity, which forced to her attention that the man looked no older than Kasarya had been—still young and bushy-tailed, handsome and naive, a type she had not seen in years. His friend was older likely than any of the Radenbutans, but seemed much less threatening with his crinkled eyes and light mustache. They both still stared at her, and the younger one offered the first genuine smile she'd seen since her isolation began.

"I..." Her mouth would betray her on top of her mind, she knew it. Her chest tightened with an emotion she'd forgotten the feel of. Intrigue. Now her heart had betrayed her. "I am Andreya. Of the Marivatan House."

"Marivatan," the older man echoed immediately. Torr, if she remembered correctly. "I knew she was Nasavtean."

"Mind your business, Stasen." Hafiless jabbed him and they almost began bickering. Before they had the chance, however, an idea sprung upon Andreya.

"You are hunters, yes?" She dared a step closer and both men forgot their argument. "Have you ever spilled human blood?"

They stilled like a clock with a jammed gear. In the firelight, she could almost see Hafiless turn pale.

Andreya had hoped that if she froze to death, she would not revive. She had hoped that if her mind was filled with ice, she would not hear the denial of Death again. And yet she was still here, hair dripping with melted snow and feet gray with cold, and if this lie was true, these men actually wished to help her. Her idea expanded.

"No," Torr answered for them both, and Hafiless agreed. "Only animals. We supply the Isantad Court."

Andreya's heart gained speed as she plotted her next words. "Then do you believe in monsters?"

"I'm beginning to," Torr said. Hafiless elbowed him again.

"Then I ask a favor of you"—Andreya lowered her head formally—"and before you protest, know that it is the only way you can possibly help me."

"Anything," Hafiless said. Torr was the one to elbow this time.

She raised from her bow. "Please take your arrow and pierce my heart."

The boy's smile faltered.

"Kill me," Andreya continued. "There is someone with whom I wish to speak." She touched her corset in the space where her dagger had once been. "And if you lack arrows, slit my throat with the blade you used on these branches."

The boy stumbled over several partial sentences before landing on a halting, "Why?"

"I am unable to die—immortal, inhuman—and that you cannot change. But if you truly wish to help me, I must talk again with Death, ask my questions and see if it will tell the cure to my curse."

"But you're so young," he countered, glossing over the more surprising half of her confession. Torr had gone silent. "No older than me, surely, and there's still so much life for us to live. Please understand."

Andreya shook her head. By now, she had regained feeling of her limbs and held back violent shivers. Without the weightless cover of her blanket and with her distance from the dying flames, Andreya's damp sleeves were of less than no use. Still, she slid another shaking step away from Hafiless and his camp. "You do not know my circumstances, the depth of my misfortune. If you did, you would surely despise me and killing me would lay easier upon your conscience—"

"I will not despise you." His interjection startled Andreya. His emotion, sudden and fervent, was so different than the levelheadedness of her people. At another snap of the fire, Torr continued to listen as he tended to their lack of wood. "I will not kill you, either."

"I have just turned forty years old." She hadn't thought she would say it so easily, but the stubborn man would not be convinced. "Not only can I not die, I cannot age. I have spent nine years outcast from my people, I've been accused of witchcraft, and I survived my execution to prove it. I have discovered a monster of myself, and the only way I ask that you help is by killing me again so I can present my inquiries to someone who may know how to help."

It was Andreya's gaze, now, that was impassioned, the two young souls in a war of wits across the campfire Torr was quietly feeding. While Andreya was determined to make her case again with Death, however, Reide was trying as hard as he could to understand the woman who had just described herself as a monster.

"You... cannot die... so you want to find a way to kill yourself?" The words sounded absurd on his lips. "Why not live? Even if you are older than you appear, you still have life ahead of you, right?"

"I am older than you are, Little Miss, and I'm not dying yet." Stasen tossed another branch into the fire.

But she only shook her head again as if frustrated they weren't understanding. "It's not that I could continue living, but that I should have died. My continued existence is against every aspect of nature—simply being here is an aberration."

Reide started to object again, but let it go at her expression—dark brows drawn together, pale lips pressed into a line. Even if he had just met this woman, he could tell her words were not blind. The shadows surrounded her from the forest, the moonlight nowhere through the trees. In the sparse light, she looked every part a ghoul, but she was the most tragic ghoul he had ever seen. She was bathed in misfortune and impossibility, and clearly hated it.

"You really want to know how to die?" he asked. Stasen glanced up at the resignation in his tone.

"I want nothing more."

"Then get some sleep." He dipped down and swiped her blanket from the dirt. She looked on the verge of protest when he closed the distance to hand it to her. "Maybe Death isn't the only one with answers."

"And who knows," Stasen piped in completely uninvited, his mustache giving his smirk away, "Reide might even show you why living isn't so bad."

Only Stasen could have made that sentence imply debauchery, and he was unlucky to still be crouching by the fire. He made it too easy for Reide to kick up dirt in his face.

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Running wordcount: 7,852. So close to 8k...  :>

Anyway, guten tag, geeks! I'm unhappy with a lot of aspects of this chapter after spending the last week changing just about every sentence, but it's a first draft, so feedback is kinda what I'm posting it for, I guess XD. With that in mind, any and all critiques and thoughts are welcome. Don't forget to vote if you enjoyed and check out more from the ONC community!