Chapter 4 — What Remains
The rain had mellowed from downpour to a soft drizzle.
The cottage was quiet.
Too quiet.
Seren opened her eyes slowly.
For a moment, she lay completely still.
Breathless.
Just listening.
The faint crackle of dying embers in the fireplace. Rain dripping softly on the wooden walls. And nothing more.
Good.
She moved carefully, sitting up soundlessly. Her limbs were heavy; not from tiredness, but from something else. Something she didn't want to confront yet. She risked a glance at the old woman. She sat in her previous position near the fire, equally still, equally silent. Asleep… perhaps. Seren quickly averted her gaze. Good. Slowly, she stood. Each movement was deliberate, controlled. She took a tentative step towards the door, her hand hovering over the handle. If she slipped out now… no questions, no ties, no more risk. Her fingers brushed the wood.
"Leaving so soon?"
Seren froze. Her breath caught in her chest. The old woman's voice was low and calm, utterly awake. She still sat facing the fireplace.
"I wasn't—" Seren checked herself. "... No. I'm not."
Silence again. The rain intensified for a moment, then softened. The old woman sighed softly.
"You don't have to lie."
Seren's hand fell from the door. Her chest tightened. "... I didn't want to disturb you."
"I know." The answer was far too quick. Seren frowned slightly; unease prickled at her. Something felt wrong. The old woman inclined her head a fraction.
"The capital has been noisy recently," she said softly. "Even in quiet places, news travels far."
Seren said nothing, her body already rigid.
"And you," the old woman continued, her voice thoughtful rather than accusing, "you don't sound like someone who hasn't been affected by all this news."
Seren's fingers clenched into her palm. A long moment of silence passed, then—
"You kept repeating her name."
Seren's eyes widened slightly. "... What?"
"While you slept," the old woman said. "Over and over again."
Seren couldn't reply. Couldn't speak. The old woman turned her head to face Seren slightly.
"Liora."
The name seemed to echo, a heavy stone dropping in the room. Seren instinctively took a step back. "... How did you know—"
"The kingdom is searching for a knight," the old woman said, her voice still quiet. " She disappeared the very night their princess was murdered."
Seren's breath hitched. "You don't strike me as someone who wouldn't know that story."
Silence again. Thick, unavoidable. Seren's voice came out lower this time, tight. "... How did you know it was me?"
The old woman didn't reply immediately. Instead, she reached out and placed another log onto the dying embers. "They say that knight killed her."
Seren flinched.
"But I've lived long enough to know a few things about people," she continued. "And the person who commits a murder without reason..." she paused, "... Doesn't cry like that."
Seren's throat felt constricted. "Doesn't shatter into pieces in their sleep." The words were more damning than any accusation. Seren looked away, her eyes blurring.
"... Then why?" she asked quietly. "Why let me stay?"
The old woman offered a soft, weary smile. "Because I don't think you understand what you've become any more than they do."
Seren's hands trembled. A small, shaky breath escaped her lips. "... I didn't mean to." The words sounded weak, pathetic, too late.
The old woman ignored them. "Pain," she said gently, "doesn't ask for permission."
Seren stood there, utterly still. For a second, it seemed she might speak again, then she retreated again towards the door. "... I shouldn't stay here any longer," her voice had regained that detached calm. "It wouldn't be safe."
The old woman nodded slightly. "That may be true."
Seren placed her hand on the door again, this time with purpose. "... Thank you," she whispered. "For everything."
She opened the door, and a gust of cold air flooded the small room. She stepped out.
"... Seren."
Her name stopped her. She froze at the doorway. Slowly, she turned her head. The old woman was standing, facing her. Her eyes were blind, yet somehow... She seemed to see.
"I am Mira," she said softly. "If you ever find your way back."
Seren didn't reply. Mira continued, "Running from pain is a natural thing. But eventually..." she paused, "... You still have to decide what sort of person you'll be after it."
The words settled in the air, heavy and profound. Seren looked down at her feet. Her fingers tightened against the doorframe. For a moment, she didn't move. Then, she turned and stepped out into the rain.
The road stretched into an endless darkness. Mud caked her boots with every step. No destination. No plan. Only distance. As she moved farther from the cottage, the rain picked up speed. The faint outline of the kingdom faded behind her. Good. She didn't look back.
A distant noise pierced the silence, voices carried on the wind and rain.
"... Search the perimeter."
Seren slowed slightly.
"... She couldn't have gone far."
Her body went instantly rigid.
Guards.
She quickened her pace. Not running, but faster. The road narrowed, leading toward the borders of the neighboring land. The trees grew thicker, the darkness deeper. Then—
Footsteps.
Not behind her, but ahead.
Seren stopped. Three figures emerged from the shadows. Rough, unfamiliar. Not soldiers. Bandits.
"Well now..."
One stepped forward, a slow grin on his face. "Didn't expect to find someone out here tonight."
Seren said nothing. Another circled, moving to her side.
"You lost?" A low chuckle. "Or just unlucky?"
The third advanced, the dim light glinting on a knife.
Before Seren could react, the cold steel pressed against her throat.
"Don't move." The voice was low, menacing. "Hand over everything."
Silence. Rain dripped down her hair and face. She didn't move.
"... You deaf?" the bandit growled. The knife bit into her skin, drawing a thin line of blood. "Last chance."
Seren stood completely still. Not out of fear. Not out of panic. Nothing.
The bandit frowned. "... What's wrong with her?"
Another moved closer. "Hey—"
Seren's gaze flickered, just for a moment, towards him. Something felt... Off. The air. The silence. Her presence. The man hesitated.
"... This is weird."
The man holding the knife tightened his grip. "Stop playing around—" It dug deeper, and another trickle of blood slid down her neck.
Seren didn't move. Didn't resist. Didn't speak.
But something... Something unseen... Was beginning to rise.
And the moment stretched, unnaturally long. The rain grew louder, the silence heavier. The knife remained at her throat.
And no one moved.