?The silence of the woods seemed to press against Etan’s temples. He stopped abruptly—or rather, his legs simply ceased to respond. He watched them tremble violently through the coarse fabric of the stolen trousers until they gave out entirely. He slumped against the trunk of an old pine. He didn't feel the impact of the bark against his back, nor the cold moisture dripping down his neck, but he saw the world lurch before his eyes.

  ?“Enough... we have to stop,” Tsuki gasped. Her voice was hoarse, scratched raw by exhaustion.

  “We can’t,” Etan’s voice vibrated right behind her nape, rapid and charged with a tension she couldn't ignore. Etan shook his head, a gesture he could feel perfectly because it didn't belong to his "living" half.

  “Look at these legs, Etan. Look at how they shake. You don't feel them, but I feel that the body is finished. If we keep walking, we’ll collapse and I won't be able to get back up.” The girl’s shadow slipped in front of him, a dark smudge that looked almost like bluish smoke against the brown of the forest.

  ?Etan stared at her, surprised. “But I... I feel nothing. Below the neck, it’s all empty. It feels like I'm floating in a void.”

  “It feels like a cruel joke,” she commented bitterly. “But while you’re trying to understand why you feel nothing, I feel this stomach knotting itself. There’s a void digging inside us, Etan. It hurts. It’s as if something is eating me from within.”

  ?Etan listened with a prickle of unease. He didn't feel that pain, but knowing Tsuki perceived it made it real. He opened the satchel and pulled out the stolen knife, along with the hard bread and that piece of yellowish cheese.

  “We must fill it, then,” he said.

  ?They sat on a stone, then he placed the bread on his knees. It was frustrating: he felt the weight of his arms, but not the texture of the crust beneath his fingertips. He had to grip the knife handle tightly, staring at the blade with maniacal focus. Without touch, sight was the only way to keep the metal from slipping across his skin.

  “Be careful,” Tsuki murmured. Her shadow drew close, as if wanting to stabilize his hand. “If you cut yourself, I’ll feel the blood running and the sting, but you’ll just keep moving as if nothing happened. It’s horrible to watch you.”

  “I'm doing my best,” Etan replied, finally managing to carve off a slice of bread. “It’s like trying to drive a wagon in total darkness. I know where the wheels are, but I can't feel the road.”

  ?He cut a piece of cheese and set it on the slice. Then, with a cautious movement, he brought the food to his mouth. As soon as his teeth sank into the bread, the world changed. The tongue, the palate, the gums... there, the sensations were explosive. He felt the crunchy crust crumbling and the sharp, fatty taste of the cheese.

  “I feel it,” he said with his mouth full, almost startled. “I feel the taste, Tsuki. It’s... incredible.”

  But the joy lasted only a second. As soon as he swallowed the first bite, the sensation of pleasure vanished into nothingness. The food passed the throat and, to Etan’s senses, simply ceased to exist.

  ?But Tsuki gave a jolt, as if she had been struck.

  “It’s… strange,” she murmured, her voice seemingly cracking. “It’s not the void from before. I feel a heavy heat spreading where there is no light. It’s as if the body is waking up on its own, without asking permission.”

  Etan continued to chew, watching the piece of bread diminish in his hands. “My old masters used to say that food is life entering the body. But for me, it’s just ash disappearing.”

  “Not for me,” she replied, her shadow seemingly vibrating with restlessness. “I feel the heartbeat accelerating. I feel the blood starting to flow stronger in the legs. It’s a deafening noise, Etan. Before, when I was just a voice, everything was calm. Now it’s like being trapped in a gear that has started to turn again.”

  ?Etan stopped with the knife in mid-air. “Does it hurt you?”

  “No. It’s just… too real. I feel bound to this flesh with chains tighter than before. The more you eat, the more I become part of this mud.”

  They looked at each other for a moment, or at least Etan looked at the spot where the air seemed denser and darker. The awareness of their union had suddenly become heavier than the bread they were sharing.

  ?Etan finished eating in silence. He cleaned the knife blade by wiping it on the sleeve of his tunic, a mechanical gesture done without thinking.

  “The food is gone,” he said, almost to himself.

  Tsuki didn't answer immediately. Her shadow remained motionless against the pine trunk. “I feel the heart beating calmer,” she murmured. “But it’s a noise I don't like. It’s too loud in here.”

  They stayed like that for a while, staring into the dark, as if waiting for someone to come and tell them what to do.

  ?Then, Etan looked up at the treetops. “We’ve been stupid, Tsuki.”

  “Why?”

  “We fled the cabin without asking where we are. I’ve studied the maps of the kingdom for years; I know the names of every river and every city, but now that I'm here… I recognize nothing. This forest could be anywhere. We fled a trap only to end up in a black hole.”

  Tsuki vibrated near his ear, her voice thick with sharp anxiety. “And Marcus isn't lost like us. He probably knows where we are. I feel his desire to find us; it’s like a bitter taste that won't leave the throat.”

  ?Etan froze for a moment, then tilted his head. “Marcus.”

  “What?”

  “His name is Marcus. Not Marius,” he corrected her, in an almost automatic tone—the same one he used with the servants at the palace.

  Tsuki remained silent, surprised by that sudden pedantry. “Names… are just sounds, Etan. Do you really feel the need to correct me while we’re about to die?”

  “Words have an order, Tsuki. If we start getting those wrong too, then we’ve truly lost everything.”

  ?For a moment, the tremendous tension crushing them seemed to lighten, evaporating in that small bicker. But the moment passed quickly. Etan looked at his legs. “What good is knowing his name if I don't even know how to walk without watching where I put my feet? I'm a burden. I'm just a head attached to a body I can't feel. If Marcus finds us, I won't be able to do anything.”

  “And I am a prisoner of this pain,” she added. “I feel every scratch of the wool. I was free, Etan. I was a voice in the wind. Now I'm chained to this suffering flesh.”

  ?Etan clenched his fists. He watched his knuckles turn white, even though to him it was like gripping the air.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  “Then we have to stop standing here trembling,” he said, straightening his back against the pine. “I don't feel the pain? Fine. Then I’ll use this curse. I can walk until my legs give out, because the sting won't stop me. I don't need rest if my head says to keep going.”

  Tsuki’s shadow seemed to lift, intrigued by this change in tone.

  ?“You feel everything I don't,” Etan continued, staring into the dark between the trees. “You feel the cold, you feel those hunting us, you feel if the ground beneath us is rotten. You will be my instinct, Tsuki. You will be my senses. I will be just the body that carries you out of here. If you tell me to run, I’ll run until our heart bursts, because I won't feel the blow, but you will. We have to trust each other. We have no choice.”

  Tsuki remained silent for a moment, then her presence drew closer, almost brushing his shoulder. “It’s a terrible pact, Etan. You’re asking me to feel all the pain of the journey while you merely move the steps.”

  “It’s the only pact that will keep us alive against Marcus,” he replied with a firmness he didn't know he possessed.

  ?“Then get up,” she said, and her voice was no longer a lament, but an order. “Stand up. There’s a path just ahead; I can feel it by the way the wind passes through the brush. If you really want to be my body, then learn not to fall.”

  Etan planted his palms against the ground. He could see the damp earth sliding under his nails, but to his brain, those hands were made of mist.

  “Alright. On three, I’ll lift myself,” Etan said, the firm voice of someone about to perform an important experiment. “One… two…”

  “Etan, shift your weight to the lef—”

  ?Too late. Etan pushed with all the strength he thought he had, but not feeling the resistance of the soil, he gave an excessive shove with his right arm. His body reacted like a lopsided piece of wood: his shoulder swung into the void and he nearly ended up back on the ground before he had even lifted his knees from the mud.

  “Damn it!” Tsuki hissed. Her cry rang in his skull like a bell. “You gave me a dizzy spell! You gave such a jerk you nearly snapped my neck!”

  “I don't feel how hard I'm pushing, Tsuki! I'm going by guesswork,” he retorted, staying in an absurd position, half-bent with a hunched back. “In the treaties of chivalry, they say balance is a matter of center of gravity. I'm trying to calculate it.”

  ?“Stop calculating and listen to me!” her shadow vibrated with pure rage. “I feel your left leg shaking like a leaf because you’re loading it too much. If you don't move your hips this way, it’ll give out in three seconds. I feel it… it hurts, Etan! Move that damn weight!”

  Etan tilted his torso toward where the voice indicated, with the caution of someone handling a crystal vase. Finally, with an effort that beaded his forehead with sweat—the only thing he truly felt was the heat of his own exertion—he managed to straighten up. He stood there, motionless, arms slightly wide. He looked like a scarecrow forgotten in the middle of the woods.

  “Am I standing?” he asked, not daring to look down.

  “Yes, you’re there,” she replied, exhausted. “But you look like a poorly assembled statue. Try taking a step. Just one. But watch where you put your foot, or I swear I’ll let you fall into the first ditch we find.”

  ?Etan stared at his right boot. He had to command that piece of flesh to lift, advance, and descend. Simple on paper. Impossible when you don't feel where the leg ends and the air begins.

  Etan advanced stiffly. He tried to map the ground with his eyes, but his mind kept returning to the books he had left in the castle.

  “Look ahead, Etan. I feel the ground becoming more brittle,” Tsuki warned him. Her voice was tense, loaded with all the nervous signals coming from the soles of the feet.

  “It could be Sphagnum, bog moss,” Etan murmured, distracted by a pale green patch near a root. “Master Valerius used to say that if it grows this thick, then...”

  “Etan, stop with that Valerius! Lift your fo—”

  ?Too late. Etan didn't feel the root blocking his boot. Without the sense of touch, he didn't perceive the trip until he saw the ground coming toward him. He had no reflexes; he didn't put his hands out. He fell like a sack of grain.

  THUD. The impact was dull. Etan remained with his face in the mud, eyes wide just inches from the moss. He felt nothing. To him, it was as if the world had turned off for a moment.

  But for Tsuki, it was hell.

  “AARGH!” A choked scream exploded in Etan’s head. The shadow vibrated violently. “The knees... the knees! It hurts, Etan! It’s as if they’ve shattered!”

  ?Etan lifted his head with ghostly calm. He saw the mud on his face but didn't feel its texture. He looked down: his knees had hit a flat stone beneath the moss. The fabric of the tunic was torn, and a dark, warm liquid was beginning to stain the cloth.

  “I see blood,” Etan said, observing the wound as if it belonged to someone else. “The kneecaps seem intact, but the skin is torn. Is this what you feel?”

  “Yes, damn you! I feel fire devouring my legs!” she hissed through her teeth, her voice broken by tears. “And I feel the metallic taste of blood in my mouth because you have dirt in your teeth. It’s disgusting, Etan! If you talked less and used those eyes to watch where you’re going, I wouldn't be here screaming in pain!”

  ?Etan wiped his hand across his lips. He saw the red on his fingers.

  “I see. So you feel the taste and I don't. I see the wound and you feel the sting.” He stood up slowly, ignoring the cries of protest from Tsuki’s nerves that were racking his skull. “We have to move. Blood attracts animals, and the smell of fear attracts Marcus. If your knees are burning, it means we’re still alive.”

  “I hate you,” she whispered, as the pulsing pain from the legs blurred her vision. “I hate you so much.”

  ?Etan advanced through the dark, breath short. The pain in the knees that Tsuki transmitted to him was a constant throb, but he kept walking as if the body were a machine to be operated from a distance.

  “I remember every single time,” Etan said suddenly, his voice flat as a blade of ice. “While I was at the table with her, or when I tried to please her with my studies... I remember how you whispered those cold, merciless words against her in my ear. You never stopped for a moment telling me how icy she was, how much she hated me.”

  Tsuki made a sound that was half-growl, half-lament. “I was the only one telling you the truth, Etan. Seventeen years spent in the dark corner of your head watching that woman. How could you not notice?”

  “She was my mother, Tsuki. What you call 'coldness,' to me was order. Noble discipline.”

  ?“Lies! You’ve been telling yourself lies since you learned to read!” Tsuki’s voice was now charged with a vibrant contempt. “I was there, Etan. I was there when you were five and fell down the library stairs. You were bleeding, just like now. She stayed on the threshold, pulled up her gloves, and called a servant to clean the carpet for you. She didn't take a step toward you. She didn't touch you with a finger because you had dared to foul her perfection with your flesh.”

  Etan grit his teeth but kept marching through the mud, staring into the void.

  ?“She treated you with indifference because you were an obligation, not a son,” she continued, unstoppable. “I whispered those words to you because I was tired of feeling your heart race for a woman who looked at you like you were a piece of misplaced furniture. I wanted you to hate her. I wanted you to detach yourself from that ghost before Marcus came to take everything away from you.”

  Etan stopped abruptly. The silence of the woods seemed to crush him. “So that was your plan. To make me alone in the world even before I lost the castle. To destroy me from the within for seventeen years.”

  “I only gave voice to what you didn't have the courage to think,” she replied, calmer now, but fiercely cold. “Now you no longer have a mother to return to. You only have me. And I am the only one who knows how much those knees burn, because I am the only one who truly feels them. She never even knew if you were alive or dead in there. To her, you were just dust to be swept away.”

  ?They emerged from the thick of the woods suddenly, as if the forest had grown tired of holding them. The air became unexpectedly lighter, stripped of that suffocating smell of earth and decay. Etan stopped, panting. Before him, beyond the slope of the hill, the valley opened in an embrace of stone and lights.

  “It’s Oakhaven!” Etan exclaimed. For the first time since they had fled, his voice was not a cold analysis, but a vibrant cry of hope. “Tsuki, look! The three twin towers, the semi-circular walls… we made it. We’ve arrived.”

  Tsuki’s shadow seemed to relax along his legs. “The knees…” she murmured, almost in a trance from relief. “Finally I can stop feeling this fire.”

  ?Etan took a step forward, ready to descend the beaten path. But then, his scholar’s eyes, accustomed to seeking the smallest detail in book miniatures, fixed upon the highest pole of the central tower. The valley wind unfurled the banner fluttering against the purplish twilight sky. Etan froze. His breath caught in his throat, producing a hoarse whistle. It was not the blue banner of the Duchy. There was no Golden Griffin to welcome him. In its place, a heavy, dark ochre silk cloth—almost the color of clotted blood—flapped violently. At the center of the cloth were no animal figures, but three black glyphs, traced with mechanical, almost subhuman precision. They were straight lines crossing at acute angles, forming a symbol that looked like a stylized eye or a vise.

  ?Etan felt his knees buckle—this time not from Tsuki’s pain, but from his own sudden weakness.

  “No…” he whispered. “It’s not possible.”

  “Etan? What’s happening?” she asked, perceiving the icy terror starting from the center of his chest and radiating into his arms. “Why did you stop? We’ve arrived, haven't we?”

  “That flag…” Etan shook his head, eyes wide, the edges of his vision starting to blur. “Those glyphs belong to the Empire of Kaelos. But Kaelos is beyond the Glass Sea. It’s months of sailing from here. They can’t be here. They can’t have taken Oakhaven.”