The air was heavy and stale, weighing down on Elena's lungs with each shallow breath. Her steps echoed softly in the suffocating darkness, each sound swallowed quickly by the walls of the narrow passage. Her fingers trailed the cold, uneven stone, the roughness occasionally snagging at her gloves. She could feel the thin layer of sweat on her palms, dampening the fabric and making her grip less certain.
The silence was absolute, so dens, it almost pressed against her ears. Yet the quiet was not comforting. It was an oppressive emptiness, a void that felt unnatural. Her own breathing became a betrayal, a ragged, irregular rhythm in a place that demanded stillness.
Her heartbeat quickened, a drum against her ribs. She forced herself to keep moving, pushing away the cold fear that crept up her spine.
She tried to focus the idea of freedom. The possibility of something beyond those walls. A life where she could be more than a pawn, more than a pretty face with no voice. But the further she went, the more it felt like a lie. An illusion whispered by desperate minds.
"Keep going" she muttered softly to herself, her voice breaking the silence and making her flinch.
Her steps slowed when a soft, almost imperceptible sound echoed behind her. She froze, her body rigid, ears straining. It could have been anything: an echo of her own movement, a trick of the acoustics in the tunnel. But the thought that someone could have followed her, that Adrian or the guards had found the passage, made her throat tighten.
Her mind raced. What would they do if they caught her here? Would they drag her back, forcing her to face her mother's cold, unyielding gaze? Would they punish Anna for helping her, accuse her of treason, imprison her, or worse? Her breathing quickened, and she pressed herself harder against the wall, her fingers digging into the rough, unyielding surface.
The sound came again. It was a faint scuffle, too distinct to be ignored. Her pulse pounded in her ears. The air felt even thinner, suffocating.
"No." she whispered, her voice trembling.
She couldn't go back. She wouldn't. Her legs tensed, ready to run, but there was nowhere to go except forward. Her feet stumbled, her steps clumsy and panicked. The uneven ground betrayed her, and she nearly tripped, catching herself against the wall. The cold stone bit into her palms, grounding her for a brief, shivering second.
The noise came again, closer, sharper. Her mind conjured images of guards, of Adrian's cruel, victorious smirk, of the queen's icy disappointment. She forced herself to keep moving, the air burning her lungs. She couldn't let them catch her. She couldn't.
Sudenly, she felt something brushed against her ankle. She screamed. Her voice echoed down the passage, a frantic, desperate sound swallowed quickly by the oppressive dark. She stumbled back, her back hitting the wall, her heart a wild, erratic beat in her chest.
She looked down, her breath hitching, and saw a rat scurry away, its thin, twitching tail disappearing into the shadows.
Her knees nearly gave out, a mix of relief and lingering terror washing over her. Her chest ached from the sharp intake of breath, the panic still coiled tight beneath her ribs. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, a shameful reminder of her fear.
"It was just a rat." she whispered, a shaky, disbelieving laugh escaping her.
Her fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms. She couldn't keep panicking like this. She had to hold on. Just a little further. Just a bit more.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to stand straight again. The tunnel seemed to stretch endlessly, a black maw that swallowed all light. Her steps were slower now, hesitant. She tried to convince herself that there was no one behind her, that no one had followed, but the fear lingered like a shadow.
Minutes felt like hours. Her legs ached, her eyes straining against the darkness. The air grew colder, sharper, and a soft, nearly imperceptible breeze brushed her cheek. Her heart leapt. It was Air. Fresh air.
She quickened her pace, a desperate energy pushing her forward. The tunnel seemed to narrow, the walls pressing closer, suffocating her with each step. She ran her hands along the stones, searching for any sign of a door, a crack, anything that could be the way out.
Her fingers found it: a seam in the wall, subtle but there. Her heart hammered. She pushed, her hands trembling. The stones resisted, cold and unyielding. She tried again, her shoulder pressing hard against the barrier. It wouldn't move.
"No. Please open." she whispered, panic rising once more.
Her palms pressed flat, her body throwing its weight against the barrier. She could feel the air, taste the promise of freedom just beyond this final wall. Tears of frustration burned her eyes. She struck the door with her fists, her breath a sob.
With a final, desperate push, the stones gave way, scraping against the ground with a grating, stubborn noise. The sudden shift sent her stumbling forward, her balance lost. She fell to her knees, her palms scraping against dirt and gravel. The cool, crisp air of the outside world hit her face, sharp and biting. It smelled of earth, of leaves, of life.
Elena gasped, her chest heaving, the weight of her exhaustion crashing over her. She had done it. She was outside. Free.
But something was off.
It wasn't the dark road Anna had described. There was no horse waiting, no prepared path to lead her away. Instead, the forest loomed before her, dark and sprawling, the trees like silent sentinels watching her. The underbrush was thick, untamed, a stark contrast to the carefully maintained gardens of the palace.
Her heart sank, a chill coursing through her veins. Had she taken a wrong turn? Had Anna miscalculated? She stared into the shadows of the forest, uncertainty gnawing at her insides.
"What do I do now...?" she whispered, her voice lost in the vastness of the night.
Her limbs felt like lead, heavy with exhaustion and the remnants of fear. The forest was dense, unwelcoming, a maze of shadows and silence. There was no clear path, no sign of direction. Just darkness.
She considered going back, finding the tunnel, retracing her steps, but the thought of that suffocating corridor, of the fear that had gripped her there, made her skin crawl. She couldn't go back. Not now. Not ever.
The wind stirred the leaves, a whisper that prickled the back of her neck. She was exposed, vulnerable, alone in a wilderness she did not know. There was no plan for this. No guidance. Only the choice to move forward or remain frozen.