Chapter 2 The Old Woman
Chapter Two : The Old Woman
Aria’s POV
The forest swallowed me whole.
The farther I walked, the darker everything became, until even the moonlight seemed afraid to touch me. Dry leaves cracked beneath my feet, each step heavier than the one before. My legs trembled. My heart still felt like broken glass.
The guards had thrown me out like trash.
My knees burned.
My chest ached.
My soul… still bleeding.
The cold wind sliced through my thin dress, numbing my skin but not the pain inside me.
“I won’t cry,” I whispered to the trees. “Not again… not for them.”
But my voice betrayed me quivering, small, breaking apart like my heart. My eyes kept filling despite my stubbornness.
I kept walking, deeper and deeper into the unknown. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t care.
Anywhere was better than the place where I was unwanted.
Anywhere was better than Caspian.
An hour passed maybe more before my body finally gave up. My legs buckled, and I fell to my knees. The cold dirt bit into my skin, grounding me in my misery.
“I’m so tired…” My voice cracked. “So tired of everything.”
My stomach clenched painfully with hunger. I hadn’t eaten since morning. My throat burned. My head spun.
And my heart…
My heart felt like it was being crushed by invisible hands.
Just the wind.
Always the wind.
Never an answer.
I forced myself up, leaning against a tree to steady my trembling body. When I lifted my head, I saw something red hanging above me a fruit.
Food.
My breath hitched.
With shaking hands, I plucked it and took a bite.
Sweet.
Too sweet.
Then my stomach twisted violently.
“No—no… not again—”
I dropped the fruit and bent forward as the sickness tore through me. I threw up until my body felt completely empty, empty of food, strength, hope.
Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
My hands clutched my stomach as dizziness washed over me. My breath caught. My chest tightened.
“Why… why am I like this?” I gasped.
The memories struck fast and brutal.
Caspian’s touch.
His kisses.
His whispers.
His weight on me.
His promise that I was the only one he wanted.
My eyes widened in fear.
“No… no, please…”
My voice shook as I pressed both hands to my stomach.
The nausea.
The weakness.
The dizziness.
It wasn’t just hunger.
“What if…?” The question died on my tongue.
Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and relentless.
I sank against the tree and sobbed until my body ached. I cried for everything, my hunger, my loneliness, the betrayal that tore my heart apart, the uncertainty growing inside me.
I cried until exhaustion pulled me into sleep—cold, shaking, terrified.
The next morning
Birds chirped above me, their cheerful songs a cruel contrast to the storm in my chest.
My throat was dry.
My stomach hollow.
My body trembling.
I forced myself to stand, though my legs nearly gave out again.
“I need… water,” I whispered. “Food… anything…”
I walked and walked, time blurring together. The forest seemed endless. My vision dimmed, black spots flickering in and out.
“Is this… how I die?” I murmured. “Alone in a forest no one cares about?”
Then—movement.
I blinked, unsure if it was real.
A woman.
Old.
Gray hair in a neat bun.
Bent slightly as she picked herbs from the ground.
Hope exploded inside me so suddenly I almost collapsed.
“P-please…” My voice was barely air. “Please help me…”
She turned and gasped.
“My goodness, child!” she rushed to me, her hands gentle as she guided me toward a fallen log. “You look like you’re about to faint!”
“S-some water…” I whispered.
She opened her basket and handed me a bottle. I drank desperately, water spilling down my chin.
“Slowly,” she urged softly. “Your body is too weak.”
She gave me a small loaf of bread. I reached for it—but as my sleeve slid down, the swirling birthmark on my wrist was revealed.
The woman froze.
Her eyes widened.
Her breath caught.
She stared at my wrist as if seeing a ghost.
“No…” she whispered. “It cannot be…”
My heart stuttered. “What is it?”
She reached out with trembling fingers, touching the mark gently.
“That birthmark…” Her voice broke. “Only one child carried it. Only one.”
“Who?” I asked, confused and afraid.
She swallowed hard.
“The lost daughter of the Crescent Moon Pack.”
My entire world stopped.
She looked at me, really looked and tears filled her eyes.
“I was the midwife,” she whispered. “I delivered that child eighteen years ago.”
My breath caught painfully.
“But she disappeared the same night she was born,” the woman continued shakily. “We believed someone took her… but her parents never gave up hope.”
I stared at her, frozen, unable to process her words.
She grabbed my face gently, tears now slipping down her wrinkled cheeks.
“Oh, Moon Goddess…” she breathed. “It’s you. You are that child. You are the daughter I helped bring into this world.”
My lips parted, but no sound came.
Me?
The lost daughter?
The child who was never forgotten?
“Your real parents searched for you,” she whispered. “Every single day. They prayed for you. They cried for you. They loved you from afar.”
Loved me?
Someone… loved me?
A sob tore from my throat.
She took my hand firmly. “Come, child. I will take you home. To your true parents. To your true life.”
My tears spilled freely.
For the first time in my life…
Someone wanted me.
Someone cared.
Someone chose me.
For the first time ever…
I wasn’t alone.