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After the box of gemstones shone brightly, they quickly grabbed the basket and left the hut. As Meliss tried to follow them, I placed my hand on her left shoulder.
"What?"
"Can you explain what that was all about?"
"It's nothing."
"What's going on in this village? Where are the children? And how many more days will I have to stay here? Forever?"
My sanity was beginning to crack. I felt trapped in this small hut, suffocated by unseen chains. Even though I was allowed to roam the village, they followed me everywhere, silent and watchful. It was driving me mad.
Meliss slapped my hand away and turned to face me, her expression cold.
"Know your place." Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. "Even though you're a 'Pan,' you're weak. Your job is to stay quiet until we decide whether you're worthy or not. So—"
A guard suddenly stepped between us, his spear raised. But it wasn't the intervention that shook me—it was the look on Meliss's face. Disgust. As if I was something unworthy. Something disappointing.
She left without another word.
What was that for? I thought—I thought…
I slumped onto the floor, my thoughts spiraling. After several minutes of restless contemplation, I made my decision. I would escape. If not tomorrow, then the day after.
I knew of a water hole to the south, near a patch of hortensia. If I could gather some of the flowers, I could lace the guards' drinking water with them. They wouldn't die—but they'd be incapacitated long enough for me to get away. The western entrance was too heavily guarded, so my only option was the east. That path was considered sacred, and few dared to tread there at night.
I spent the rest of the day acting as usual, careful not to raise suspicion. When morning came, I slipped away under the guise of relieving myself and carefully picked a few Devil's Trumpet flowers. No one noticed.
Meliss didn't visit me that day. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. Either way, I had no words left for her.
As night fell, we gathered for dinner in the Lung Pui, the communal eating space. The Lula tribe did everything together—eating, working, even grieving. The only ones who ate separately were the chief and the elders, who dined in the sacred tent.
I spotted Meliss as I finished my meal. She passed by quickly, avoiding my gaze, but I knew she had glanced my way before entering the tent.
Once dinner was over, I returned to my hut and practiced writing in the Lula tribe's language. Their alphabet was a strange mix of English and Portuguese, though the grammar and pronunciation were vastly different. It was crude, but functional.
Then, when the time was right, I made my move.
At around seven in the evening, I secretly swapped out the water holder—a hollowed-out wooden vessel—with the one I had laced with hortensia extract. Then, I extinguished the candle and lay down on my bed of stitched-together wool.
I waited.
As expected, the guards drank before settling in for the night. I counted the minutes, listening to their breathing slow. Then, suddenly—
A commotion erupted from the west side of the village.
"I—xxxx—gxxxx—chief—xxxx—the Lula tribe!"
I barely understood the words, but it was enough to tell me something serious was happening. People rushed toward the village entrance, the chief and her daughter among them.
I checked my guards. Both were unconscious, their bodies limp. Whether they were asleep or paralyzed, it didn't matter. I had my chance.
Moving swiftly, I peeked outside through the leather drape hanging over the doorway. No one was nearby.
I slipped back inside, grabbed a bundle of dried meat and fruit I had set aside, wrapped them in cloth, and stepped out into the night.
The village had two main paths, both winding around the Lung Pui before splitting—one toward the chief's house in the west, the other toward the bonfire in the east. I avoided them both, sticking to the shadows, dodging the scattered fires that illuminated the village.
It took me nearly forty minutes to reach the eastern entrance.
I turned back for one last look at the village that had held me captive. Goodbye.
Then, I stepped into the forest that led to the Ancestral Mountain Range.
The climb was brutal. The ground was steep and uneven, and I lost my footing several times, scraping my palms and knees. But I kept moving.
When I finally reached a vantage point high enough to see the village, I looked back—
And froze.
Torches.
Dozens of them. Moving toward me from the east side of the village.
"Shit."
They knew.
More than twenty torches bobbed through the darkness, cutting through the trees like a swarm of fireflies. My heart pounded as I turned and ran, choosing the left fork in the path. It led south, the terrain more level, making it easier to move faster.
I sprinted beneath the pale bluish moonlight, pushing my body beyond its limits.
Into freedom.