Chapter Two

I'm falling. I'm really falling. And I don't mean I fell backward onto my ass because I was startled and couldn't catch myself. I mean it literally: I'm freaking falling.

I don't know where I'm falling from or where I'm falling to. Everything around me is a black empty void, but I don't feel alone. Someone's eyes are on me, watching, waiting. Someone I don't know but can only feel.

And I feel more than just their eyes. I feel their hatred.

I'm trapped in a freefall for a while. No end and no beginning. Everything around me is the same. My hair is blowing up, my body weightless. Like I'm skydiving in pitch-blackness and never signed up for a lesson.

It hits me then: how the hell am I going to land? If I can't see where I am or what I'm doing, how the hell am I supposed to make sure I don't splatter like a bug on a windshield when I hit the ground?

Something invisible grabs me by the neck as I'm falling, and though I can't see anything, I reach up to my neck to fight it off. Nothing is there though; it's just my own hand, grasping at nothing.

As I fight for breath against the un-seeable enemy, I mutter, "What the fuck?" If this is what death is like, fuck that. I'm not dying. I ain't going. I have too much to do still.

I'm not going to die yet.

Something pulsates around me, and instead of all blackness, I'm surrounded in a blindingly bright light. I close my eyes, and the feeling of strangulation disappears.

I come to while waving my arms in front of myself, and the second I realize I can see again, I stop acting like an idiot and sit up. I'm breathing hard, and I don't even know why. I place a hand on my head, trying to shake it all off, and that's when I see something I shouldn't. Something on my right hand and wrist.

A black tattoo, curled around the back of my hand and around the entirety of my wrist. Not a solid band, but more of a tribal design, sharp shapes and lines that seem to move on my skin.

I slowly turn my wrist around to study the strange black thing, and I whisper, "What the fuck?"

A snide, annoyed voice comes out of nowhere and says, "That appears to be your question of the day, doesn't it?" The voice doesn't sound happy. The complete opposite.

I jump to my feet and whirl around, searching for the owner of the voice… but I'm alone. Alone in a forest full of trees I've never seen before in my life.

My heart beats faster, and I temporarily forget about the voice and the tattoo. "What the fucking fuck?" Where am I? What is this? How the hell did I get here? I'm thinking all those things, but the only question I can voice is, again: "What the fuck?"

The voice scoffs, "Please tell me you can speak other words. You can, yes? If not, this is going to be difficult—"

I spin around. "Where are you? Come out!"

The voice is incredulous as it asks me, "You don't know? Ugh. Look down."

I look down, not sure what I expect to see, but the one thing I don't expect I can honestly say is the tattoo on my hand and wrist glowing. Instead of a black color, it's a shade of white so pure it's surreal.

Lifting my wrist before my face, I tap my skin. The glowing tattoo, specifically. "What…"

"Yes, yes, I am the rune on your wrist. Flawless perception skills, truly." The more he speaks, the more it sounds as if he has some kind of accent.Not quite English, but a mix of it with something else.

I try to peel it off, but the tattoo is in my skin. It's not some layer I can scratch off. "What are you?" I whisper. "Why are you on me?"

"Good question. Finally, we're getting somewhere. I am on you because you picked me up, don't you remember? To be more specific, you picked me up and then dropped me carelessly—"

It all comes crashing back to me. The alley, the flash of light that drew me there, the strange crystal that seemed to glow and whisper directly into my mind. I picked it up and dropped it. It broke and then… then I woke up here.

"Get off me," I tell it. Or… him? Because the voice sounds male.

It, or he, sighs and says, "I would love to, believe me, but that is not something in my realm of capabilities. For the time being we are stuck together… as much as I hate to admit it." The tattoo on my wrist dims, but then it glows again as it asks, "What is your name?"

"Rey," I reply. "Do… you have a name?"

My tattoo doesn't speak for a while—can't believe I even have that thought—but it still glows, so I take that to mean he's thinking? It takes him a while to say, "My name has been lost to me over the years. I don't know how long I was trapped in that gem."

"Are you saying you used to be a person?"

"I was a wizard, powerful in my own right, but the empresses of Laconia consider themselves the keepers of magic. Before me, they never met another who possessed skills to rival their own. They bound me, trapped me in that soul gem."

My eyebrows crease as I put what he's saying together. "So you were a man, a wizard… with magic, and these empresses got jealous and put you into a crystal? With magic?" Obviously, I can't get over the magic part.

Magic isn't real. It'd be cool if it is, but it's not.

Then again, I'm standing who knows where talking to my freaking arm, so.

"Yes" he says, as if it's simple.

"And now I'm… where, exactly?" I spin around again. The tall trees around us are probably taller than any tree I've ever seen in my life. A kind of forest like this is unreal. Kind of creepy, too.

"If I had to guess, I'd say we are in Laconia now, and judging by the thick forest, Magnysia to be precise. Home of Empress Krotas."

He says all that like it's supposed to mean something to me, but it doesn't. "So, are we still in America, or—"

"We're in Laconia, not this America you speak of, and we best get moving. These forests are not the safest place to be after dark. You need to find shelter, and find it fast." His snide tone does sound urgent, and even though I'm still freaked out about everything, I know he's being serious.

"I don't know where to go," I whisper. "I don't even know how I got here."

"The magic that kept me trapped in that gem must've imploded when you released me. If I had to guess, I'd say that brought you here, along with binding me to you. And as for where to go… you're in luck. I may not remember my name, but I do remember most of Laconia, Magnysia included. We should focus on getting to the main city of Laconia."

Laconia is both a kingdom and a city? How confusing.

"I can't believe I'm talking to myself, but lead the way," I mutter. It isn't like I have much choice. I'm stuck here, with this thing on my arm. Sure, it could be worse: I could be stuck here without this thing on my arm, totally alone in a foreign land where apparently magic is a real thing.

The tattoo on my wrist and hand glows a yellowish white at that. "You're not talking to yourself. You're talking to me. Sorry to say, but until you find a way to unbind me from yourself, you will never be alone."

The laugh I let out is one of unease and awkwardness. "Great. Never alone. Awesome."

"And, until we are unbound, you will be stuck here in Laconia."

"What?" I yell that, mostly because I, you know, have a life to get back to. Not a great life, but a life. A life where I need to get my shit together. Being stuck here, with this thing attached to me, is pretty much a surefire way to have everything get fucked.

The snide voice harrumphs. "Ugh, you don't need to shout, Rey. I can hear you perfectly fine, even if you whisper. We are connected. Now, unless you want to stick around and find out why the forests of Magnysia are most unsafe at night, I suggest you start walking."

My shoulders slump, but I get going. I don't exactly trust this thing on my wrist, but what other choice do I have? I don't really want to test his theory about the forest at night, so walking it is.

"How far?" I ask.

"A good way, unfortunately, but if you keep up a brisk pace, we'll hit a settlement before dark and find some shelter there."

Man, that means Laconia city is even further away. So much for getting back to my life in a timely manner. This detour is going to take way too long, I can just tell.

I get tired after an hour of walking. Hey, what can I say? Keeping a brisk pace is tiring. Plus, having to talk to the thing on my wrist makes everything worse. The thing is chatty. Probably because he was stuck in that crystal or whatever, but I'm in no mood.

Plus, he's kind of a jerk, but at least he's able to guide me where to go, lighting up a trail whenever I ask him for a refresher.

After a while, I turn things around on him. "So, you don't remember your name. What am I supposed to call you, then?" When the tattoo is quiet, I think.

Tattoo isn't a good name. Mark sounds like a middle-aged man with a beer gut. Hmm. Whatdid he call himself after I first woke up here? A rune?

"How ‘bout Rune?" I ask.

The tattoo glows white as he sighs. "I suppose that's fine, if you must."

"Don't worry, bud, I'm not trying to be BFFs or anything. I just want to find someone who can get you off me and get me the hell out of here. I have a life I need to get back to, and you can get back to doing whatever it was you were doing before you got shoved into a crystal."

Out of all of that, what Rune focuses on is: "BFFs? What is that?"

"Uh, you know, best friends forever, I guess? It's just something people say."

The forest of Magnysia are thick and, if I'm honest, a bit unnerving. As I walk, I can't help but feel like someone is watching me from the shadows—or something. But every time I glance over my shoulder, I don't see anything.

"All I'm saying," I went on, "is that if we're stuck with each other for a while, I need to call you something. Otherwise I might start feeling insane—which, okay, might be pretty damn close to the truth already—"

Rune sighs, and the tattoo on my wrist glows. "You are not insane. Trust me, I have seen insanity and the terror it creates, and you are not. A bit rough around the edges, sure, but most certainly not insane."

"Rough around the edges, huh? Asshole."

"So far, you aren't too pleasant to deal with, either."

As much as I want to hate this thing, this Rune wizard guy, I guess I should be thankful that I'm not trapped here, alone. If I was, I wouldn't know where to go. I wouldn't know where to avoid. Hell, I wouldn't even know how dangerous these forests are if it wasn't for my hand-dandy little buddy here.

I shit you not, I hear a twig snap behind me, and my skin crawls. I don't see anyone behind me though, but I can tell I'm not alone. Whatever has been stalking me this whole time must be close, but damn it, I can't see it.

"I would pick up the pace if I were you," Rune mumbles. "It seems we are not alone in this forest."

Yeah, that's an understatement.

I was never good with anything athletic, but the adrenaline pumping through my system is enough to push me into a jog. If I sprint, I'll expend too much energy at once. I do as Rune said and pick up the pace, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds.

But nothing comes. There's nothing but the unsettling feeling that I'm not alone here.

Something's out there. Something bad. Whatever it is, I don't want to see it and find out.