I did not know what I was. I only knew that I could never stop running. Ben was not my name, but rather an echo of a past life. I didn't remember much of it, really. A mother's lulling voice, a smile like the materialization of hope, a birthday cake topped with pieces of a Hershey's Cookies and Cream bar. I remembered the useless bits.
I was pretty good at pretending that none of it ever happened.
I perceived the world mainly by its colors — what of my past? My past was so glittering in gold that my memory of it felt fake. A family . . . a family sounded like a faraway dream and nothing more. Ben . . .
Ben. That was not my name. I did not want to yearn or remember or lust for something I would never have. Atna had known who I was - and that knowledge was a good enough reason to kill her.
I could still see her pained expression, the one that she had donned in that last fraction of a second. She deserved it, I told myself. She must have if she'd known who I was. I shook off the thought.
As I sprinted through the forest, I stopped every twenty seconds to wrap my arms around my stomach. The pain broke me into a cold sweat. I stared up at the total blue of the sky and begged.
"Send me a healer."
I whispered it to whoever was around to listen in the trees. "I need a healer!" I yelled. Nothing.
I continued to run, my face contorting into a permanent, scrunched-up state of anguish. "Sage!"
"You don't need to yell, you know."
I startled at her frame in front of me, ethereal. Healers were usually pretty lovely on the eyes. Sage herself had plump cheeks and a warm smile — her eyes were full of inherent excitement.
I skidded to a stop and bent over, my hands on my knees. "Sage, help me." I said between shaky breaths.
"Hey, scoundrel. What kind of mess did you get yourself into this time?"
I lifted my shirt and she stared strangely at the tightly wound bandages. "Pain" was all I had the heart to say. She shook her head, amused, and closed her eyes. I watched her features smoothen out, her muscles relax, her tension ease. Suddenly, she was one with the magic, and I felt a comfort by my stomach. She laughed as she unraveled the bandages to reveal unscarred, healthy skin.
"Thank you." I breathed.
"No thanks needed. Shall I leave?"
"Would it be a bother if I wanted you to stay?"
"Of course not. Us healers are conditioned to help in whatever manner necessary."
"I don't need a healer right now. I just need a friend."
"What's the difference?" she smiled. I chuckled at that. She fell into step with me and my sprint blended into a stroll.
"How is Clem doing?" I asked.
Clementine was my tether in this crazy world. She had taught me how to wield my magic, how to repress it, and most importantly: how to not be afraid of it.
"You were screaming only a minute ago." Sage remarked. "You settle easily."
"I guess so. Thinking about Clem helps."
"What did you do?" Sage questioned, eyeing my stomach.
"Some bad fae got a whiff of my magic." I stared at the browning grass. The heart of the forest, Sylvie had said.
I had just cut off its circulation. I gritted my teeth — "So I killed them."
"That sounds pleasant." She cringed.
