It doesn't matter how long you've known a person... trusting someone always feels a bit like taking a leap in the dark.
And she's so tired of the dark...
Nephelle's life feels like a blank page - she only knows two things: her own name and the fact...
So, this is my first long story here on wattpad... I'm aiming to update every Friday, but I'll let you know if anything changes.
Thank you in advance for giving this story a chance. I'd love to hear from you, so please feel free to comment, follow, vote... It would make me extremely happy!
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Chapter 1
Something wet touched her forehead. Again. Again. And again.
It was cold, and she could easily sense its progress as it slid through her hair, on to her neck and on her back. Squinting her eyes open, she could see the droplet's rainbow of colors... And then it met the earth, darkening its brown shade into something close to black.
A droplet slid through her nose, tickling it, bringing out a sudden burst of laughter. For a second, she wondered whether she was ticklish or had gone insane.
She couldn't answer it.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to get up – and failed, her hands not holding her weight. Falling back, face first, into the hard ground, she took a moment to rest before glancing at one of her hands.
The skin was a mix of angry reds and dark brown streaks of dirt that matched the place she had been lying on. Was this the first time she woke up?
She didn't know. Probably not, she guessed. Waking up in the middle of nowhere wasn't a good sign, that's for sure. But of one thing she was certain: whoever had done this to her wouldn't worry about whether she'd be sunburned or not. Whether she'd be cold or safe or not. Oh no - that person would want to make sure she was dead.
He or she would have no reason for lying down her body to rest under the shade of a thick oak tree.
No, that had probably been her.
After all, the tree might not heal her wounds, but it gave some protection from the sun – and now, the rain. It didn't provide shelter from lightning or angry winds, but... it was better than nothing.
With a sigh, she turned her neck to the right and opened her mouth. She didn't know how long she had been there, but her throat ached, begging for water. Dehydration, she sighed, it could be fatal.
Though, to be fair, she didn't think she had much longer to live.
The droplets that fell into her mouth were, indeed, water, but felt like ambrosia to her parched throat. It didn't taste good, not like water should taste – it was a mix of earth and blood – and yet it was the best thing she ever remembered drinking.
