THE FIRST FAE QUEEN

"Dianthe..."

The woman was shocked awake, the darkness engulfing her bed of fall leaves, and a strange hush filled her ears. Instead of giving in to the urge to call out into the utter darkness, she decided to burrow herself even farther into the dry foliage that was crunching under her skin.

Even though she couldn't see very well since the crunchy leaves were rubbing along every crack, it was obvious that she was naked. She felt a tickling sensation and groaned softly, slapping at her thighs and buttocks in an effort to keep small flies from feasting on her. greater ones... She shivered at the thought.

She didn't move for hours, letting the shaking of her breath put her in a focused condition until the surroundings turned gray from the agonizingly slow rising sun. Before old tree trunks and shrubs began to appear around her, she was unaware of a second absence. She didn't know who she was or where she came from.

She carefully checked herself in the rising daylight and found no obvious injuries or markings on her body, save for a few minor bruises around her ankle. Before moving, she stood up and swept her hands over her body to remove any debris in the hopes that something might appear recognizable.

She staggered through the trees. Her feet constantly got scratches from sharp objects that were hidden in her path as she limped and groaned. She occasionally sank to her knees and crawled when the anguish became unbearable, but the discomfort quickly subsided. She looked down at her feet and saw that scabs had formed all over them. Her brow wrinkled as she poked and picked at the crusted blood and dirt on her soles.

Who am I, then?

Tall evergreens stacked high on damp soil seemed to be mocking her, their crowns dissolving into a shimmering mist above her. At first, it looked like she was walking straight, but after running into the same mossy boulder three times, she gave up and sat down.

Her soft fingertips bent and tore as she picked at the gray-green rock, creating a crimson imprint. She leaned her head against the cold stone, knotted an old, bendy twig, and hurled it into the brush with a grunt. She blinked as the branches and finger-painting lines caused her to suddenly have an original concept.

Jumping up, she snatched a few slender branches from a nearby pine, tying both ends together and making a loop. She marched out, beaming, after setting it atop the boulder in the form of a crown.

She made another round around a nearby tree to point the way, calling behind her, "I hope never to see you again, you bloody, mossy b*st*rd!"

She cuddled up next to an old pine with an eight-arm-wide girth as dusk quickly set.

She sighed contentedly and crooned, "Goodnight, big guy," while awkwardly embracing the silky bark with one hand.

After a few hours of light sleep, she woke up startled at first light. She now realized why she was hearing whispers in her nightmares.

She squeezed herself tightly and exhaled, "My name!" beaming with satisfaction at having something of her own at last.

"Dianthe."

Dianthe stumbled onto a large, folded blue tarpaulin after some stumbling and happy whispering about her name. She stalked around it, prodding at the tightly wrapped bundle with a rotting stick. Once it stopped moving or making noise, she scooped it up and wound the frayed twine bow string around it.

Carefully hidden inside were half a dozen energy bars, an old t-shirt, and a big pair of men's pants. She turned one of the tiny, rectangular snacks she was holding and read the ingredients. Fruit, dates, and peanuts Blah, blah, blah may have a range of colors and hard pieces. Avoid the sun's beams directly.

Dianthe thought about its security before shrugging and greedily stuffing the old-looking bar into her lips. Her eyelashes fell back as the flaky, moisture-free texture smothered her tongue in deliciousness. She stopped after the second one because she could feel her tongue swelling from the lack of water, realizing that it might be her sole source of nutrition for a while. She instantly pulled the tarp behind her and put on the unsettlingly soft garments.

Dianthe resumed her expert trail marking after the most recent incident from the previous day. She only created one complete circle before adjusting the distance between the marks. ten steps. "Ten modest steps will get me outside of here. wherever that is present.

The sky gradually grew darker that day, and Dianthe curled up to sleep behind her flimsy blue tarp. A few hours later, in a little clearing, she awoke. As she got ready to get up and find her bearings in the darkness, growls and hoots co