The Cursed Kingdom | Book 1 in The Cursed series

10

By the time I wake the sun is already high in the sky. The midday heat is rough but at least now I have water. My body–nowhere near accustomed to sleeping on the ground–aches as I push myself upright. Against my better judgement I take a large swig from the jug. After all, it won't be much use to me if I die of dehydration. For a moment I just sit there, listening to the sounds of the forest. The tweeting of the birds, the wind rushing through the leaves. My enjoyment is shortlived when instead of the sweet smell of pine trees, a pungent mix of blood, mud, and sweat invades my nose. Iliyana would have a fit if she saw me like this. For a moment I smile slightly at the thought, though my own mind quickly reminds me of her solemn faith. I am reminded of all the times she would yell at me for getting my dresses dirty. Or urge me into the bath with a pretend look of disapproval, for she would always fondly smile when she thought I wasn't looking. But most of all, I am reminded that without realizing it, the last of these moments have gone by, and we will never have one again.

If I remember correctly, Pinebourne should only be a three-day hike from Cirynth. Of course I never did pay much attention during Geography. Master Barnaby wasn't a very interesting person to begin with, but the incredible speed at which he flared his nostrils while he talked was far more enjoyable than his tiresome rants. However, I must admit the memory of his nostrils is significantly less likely to help me find my way.

I decide to stick to the southern direction I have been taking. Even under the shade of the trees, the heat is intense. I can feel the sweat dripping down my back as I trudge on. Pushing my way through bramble, and climbing over fallen trees, I find myself wishing I had just taken the open roads. Though I would've most likely been caught immediately, at least I would have had the dignity of being caught while walking instead of being caught while struggling to free myself from a thorn bush.

At last, I spot a sign of human activity. Not too far off I can see a bunch of sticks placed beside a tree to form a makeshift camp, clearly part of a children's game. Giselle, Rosie, and I would make loads of these when we were younger. This is were we would hide from our parents and promise each other we would be friends forevermore. And my what a friend I have been. Almost instinctively I start humming the song Rosie had taught us back then. I hardly even register the memory but the words bubble up with ease.

Hello there birdie, please sing your song.

Would you mind if I sang along?

Chirp and whistle your lovely melody,

Your golden tune will always be my remedy.

I continue humming for a while. The song brings a sense of comfort but at the same time it makes me incredibly homesick. It feels so long ago that I showed up at Rosemary's cottage, panicking about my marriage. Though it happened mere days ago it feels like a different lifetime. A couple of days ago I would have been perfectly happy if I never had to meet Tolas at all, and yet now I wish he was here by my side. Anyone really. I wish I wasn't alone because the fact of the matter is I have no idea what I am doing. Sure I fought off a party of goblins but goblins aren't known to be good fighters. Annoying pests, yes, but not fighters. I have essentially fought of a gang of slightly more physically capable children. And even so I wouldn't have made it without the raven.

What exactly is my plan right now? Just waltz up to the castle and ask "Pardon me your majesties, do you perchance have an army to spare? I seem to have lost mine." That hardly seems effective. Queen Priscilla, known for her kindness and valiance, and King Wollstan, known for his skill with a sword will be mighty impressed. If I'm lucky they might even grant me a bath before declaring me absolutely mad.

I walk on in a bitter mood. Every so often I perform an impression of how I believe the meeting might fare. Each one as ridiculous as the next. Talking to myself might be the first sign of my mental downfall, but at least it distracts me from my hunger. Eating all of the food last night might not have been the best idea, then again this whole endeavour doesn't seem like my best idea.

By the time the sun hangs low, a new sound reaches me. At first I write it off as the rustling of the leaves, but as I get closer I realize the sound is undeniably different. I happily skip my way closer and when I finally burst through the trees I almost squeal out of pure joy. The river before me cuts deep through the earth. Its clear water rushes wildly past me. The river of Beius, God of harvest. Its fertile banks perfect for the Oranaian crops. If I just follow the stream I should reach Pinebourne in only two hours at the most. Before I start though, I can't resist a dip in the water. Within seconds I am stripped of my clothing and am wading into the river. The water is cold but feels heavenly against my skin. All the dirt from the past days finally washes off. I sink to the bottom, watching as my air bubbles rise to the surface. Once I come up again, my familiar raven friend is sitting next to my clothes, regarding me with an inquisitive stare. He caws in protest as I splash some water at him.

"We're almost there, pretty bird."

I float around for a little while longer before reluctantly getting out and slipping into my dirty clothes once again. After I fill up my jug I continue the final part of my journey–at least for now. Before long I can see smoke from a chimney rise in the sky. The smell of freshly baked bread greets me as I approach the quaint town. 

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