Rosa

I couldn’t move. Every part of my body ached with bone-deep pain, as if something massive had crushed me. The ground beneath me was cold and wet, and something sharp dug into my ribs.

I didn’t know where I was. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t cry for help. I couldn’t even open my eyes.

Voices circled me, distant and hollow, but I couldn’t make sense of the words. My thoughts floated like smoke, slipping away before I could grasp them.

Did they come back to finish what they started? The question pulsed in my head. I remembered being left in this forest. Abandoned. Forgotten. I didn’t know how long I had been here it felt like eternity.

Then something shifted. A warmth, faint at first, then growing. A glow that wrapped around me like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. For the first time in forever, I felt comfort. My mind sharpened, my breath steadied. I tried to hold on to that feeling, to drown out the ache tearing through my body.

And then, just as suddenly, it was gone.

“Can you hear me?”

The sound pulled me back. My lips trembled, my body heavy, but somehow I managed the smallest nod.

I forced my eyes open. A face swam into view sharper than the rest of the shadows. Strong jaw. Eyes that burned with a strange light. He looked like a man carved out of iron, and yet… there was something about him, something that made me feel both afraid and safe at once.

He paused, and his gaze locked on mine.

“I want to ask for your hand. If you agree, I will make sure you are safe. You’ll live comfortably. I’ll find whoever did this to you and destroy their bloodline. I cannot offer you love. But you’ll never be harmed again. Not as long as I breathe. This is your decision. Say yes or no.”

My chest tightened. For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. Marriage? To a stranger? To this man whose presence pressed against me like a storm? The thought should have terrified me.

And yet… my mother’s face burned in my memory. My vow lingered like iron in my blood.

Tears slid hot down the sides of my face. My voice was barely a whisper, so quiet I wasn’t sure anyone else heard.

“…You promise? As long as you keep your promise.”

Everything blurred after his words. Voices rose around me, one deeper, one ancient and heavy, but I couldn’t hold on to the meaning. Something rough and warm bound my hand to his, and light seared against my closed eyelids until I thought it would blind me.

I heard myself whisper “yes,” though I wasn’t sure if it was aloud or only in my head. Heat burned through my palm, crawling up my arm, and then there was silence followed by the faintest glimpse of fear in the old woman’s face before the darkness swallowed me again.

I was chained to the ground, my skin torn, bloodied, and bruised. The cold mud clung to my knees as I struggled to move, but the chains bit deep, unrelenting. Every breath was shallow, panic clawing at my chest until I thought it might split me open.

Above me, the sky bled red. Not the red of dusk. No this was different. Wrong. Ominous. It pulsed like an open wound, spilling dread across the forest.

Then came the voice. Someone screaming my name through the trees. Urgent. Desperate. And yet… hauntingly familiar. I couldn’t place it, but my bones recognized it. My soul recognized it.

I tried to turn, chains dragging, and that’s when I saw it. A figure, moving toward me with slow, deliberate steps. With every shift of its body, the air decayed, curling into rot. Darkness clung to it like a second skin, swallowing the light.

When its face finally broke through the haze, my blood froze. Twisted. Grotesque. Wrong in ways no words could hold. And it was coming for me.

I screamed.

“Rosa…”

A voice pulled me back. Gentle, low, steady.

“Rosa, it’s just a dream.”

My eyes snapped open. My breath came in ragged gasps, sweat slicking my skin, my body shaking so violently I thought I might break apart.

Blinking against the dim light, I struggled to orient myself. The room was warm too warm and unfamiliar. The air smelled faintly of herbs.

Then I saw her.

An old woman stood beside me frail, with deep lines etched into her face, her white hair tucked beneath a dark headwrap. She looked… cold. But there was something observant in her eyes, like she was studying me.

She felt familiar somehow, even though I was certain we had never met before.

“It’s just a dream, Rosa,” she said again.

My body stiffened.

How did she know my name?

Who was she? Where was I?

She turned toward the door and opened it. “I am the Oracle,” she said, as though she had read my thoughts.

I tried to speak, to ask who she was or where I was, but my throat was so dry it burned. It felt like I hadn’t had water in a thousand years.

Without a word, she reached into the belt tied around her waist and pulled out a small leather pouch. “You’ve been unconscious for three days,” she said, holding it out to me. “You should be thirsty.”

I snatched the pouch and drank like my life depended on it. The water was cool, metallic, but relief flooded my body with every gulp. I heard her voice again, gently telling me to slow down, but I couldn’t. My body felt hollow, dehydrated, and drained, like it would crumble if I didn’t drink every drop.

When I finally finished, I handed her the pouch with trembling fingers. She took it without a word, turned, and stepped through the door.

“Come with me,” she said over her shoulder.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. Or tried to. My knees buckled, and I had to grip the edge of the bed to steady myself. Every muscle in my body screamed.

Still, I followed her. Step by slow step.

And then I paused, stunned.

The moment I stepped through the door, I froze.

The hallway outside was nothing like the Oracle’s room. Gone was the soft warmth and earthy scent of herbs. Out here, the air was colder, sharper. The walls were sleek, metallic, and unnervingly smooth, humming faintly beneath my fingertips. Strange glowing symbols pulsed gently along their surface, shifting in a language I couldn’t read. The light came from bluish panels embedded in the ceiling and floor, casting an otherworldly hue across everything.

It didn’t feel like a ship. It felt like something far more advanced something ancient and alive.

I walked slowly down the hallway, careful not to touch anything. Nothing here felt familiar. Every surface gleamed too brightly, every hum and flicker too strange.

Up ahead, the Oracle pushed open a door and for the first time, I could tell what time of day it was. Sunlight poured in, golden and warm.

I quickened my pace, drawn to it. I needed to feel the sun on my skin. It felt like lifetimes had passed since I’d last seen daylight.

The forest where I had been found its towering trees had been too thick for light to break through. Just thinking about it sent a jolt through me, and in an instant, an image flashed across my mind: a man.

The one who had saved me.

As I reached the doorway, everything clicked. We were aboard a ship. But not like any I’d ever seen before. The ships that passed through my little village were clunky and slow, patched with rust and wood.

This one… this was something else. Sleek. Powerful. Too advanced for a place like mine.

Who were these people? And why did they save me? Why did that man ask me to marry him?

As soon as I stepped out of the ship, I paused to take everything in.

The Oracle walked up beside me, her presence stilling the strange rush inside me.

“Beautiful, is it not?” she asked, her eyes following the landscape before us.

And it was.

Right ahead stretched the clearest, most pristine body of water I had ever seen so still it mirrored the sky. To the left, a modest waterfall spilled gently over smooth rocks, its sound soft and calming. At the water’s edge, vibrant flowers bloomed in clusters, painting the bank with color. Far to the right, a quiet stream meandered between tall grass and stones. A few people bathed or sat idly near the water, their presence peaceful, unbothered.

“I got married,” I said suddenly. It came out more like a question than a statement.

The Oracle turned her gaze to me and gave a slow nod. “You got married to our Sarki.”

The words hit me like a wave.

Married? To the Sarki?

I blinked at her. “Why would a Sarki want to marry someone he found half-dead in the forest?”

She tilted her head slightly. “It is not my place to explain. When the sarki comes, he will tell you himself. Now come, let us get you washed up. I managed to clean you a bit while you were unconscious, but you still need a proper bath. You were in a terrible state.”

A strange warmth bloomed in my chest. I liked her. There was no pretense with the Oracle. She spoke plainly, directly, without sugar-coating or dancing around her words. It left no room for guessing.

But at the mention of my condition, a flush of self-consciousness crept over me. I could only imagine how bad I looked. After all I had endured over the past year… my body must have worn every part of that pain.

We began walking toward an isolated part of the river, away from the others who, I now noticed, were all men.

Despite her age, the Oracle moved with surprising strength. I watched her carefully, wondering how she still walked so gracefully without the aid of a stick or cane.

She stopped and turned to me. “Remove your clothes.”

Without waiting, she handed me two clay jars and two pieces of cloth.

“I’ll be waiting for you when you're done,” she said, then turned and walked away.

I slowly made my way to the edge of the water and caught my reflection, barely recognizing the girl staring back.

I looked like a skeleton.

Months of living as a slave had stripped away every softness, every curve, every trace of the girl I once was. My skin clung tightly to my bones, and my eyes looked haunted, sunken, as if they had forgotten what joy felt like.

A tightness crept into my throat. I blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall. I had promised myself I would never allow that beast to break me not completely.

Clearing my throat, I stepped into the water.

To my surprise, it felt… revitalizing. Not just cool or clean, but alive. There was something in it, something I couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was because I hadn’t bathed in over a year. But no… no water had ever felt like this. It hummed softly against my skin, as though it recognized me.

I glanced down at the two clay jars the Oracle had given me one for my hair, the other for my body. I opened the one meant for my hair and began washing gently. The scent that rose was fresh and floral, faintly minty, like crushed herbs carried on a morning breeze.

I was determined to enjoy this moment. I didn’t know when nor if I'd get the chance to bathe like this again.

The mysterious man had made a promise to me, but I’d been made promises before.

Men always failed me.

They lied.

They betrayed.

I rinsed my hair and opened the second jar.

The moment I rubbed the soap across my skin, I gasped.

It was as if the soap had a mind of its own gliding across me, scrubbing without effort, soothing every ache, lifting away layers of dirt and despair. A soft lavender scent drifted through the air, calming me deeper than I thought possible. It felt like the soap was massaging me, healing me.

I didn’t want to stop. I could’ve stayed in that river for hours.

I’d have to ask the Oracle what kind of magic this was.

Eventually, I forced myself out of the water. My limbs protested, already missing the gentle embrace of the river.

I picked up the two pieces of cloth she had left.

Unfolding them, I saw that one was a dress, and the other was clearly meant for drying off.

I wrapped my hair in the drying cloth first and to my shock, my hair dried within seconds.

“What magic is this?” I whispered aloud.

I ran the cloth across my body. Every inch it touched dried instantly yet my skin didn’t feel parched. On the contrary, it felt moisturized, soft, as if the soap had seeped into my skin and continued to nourish it.

Though strange, I wasn’t complaining.

Not wanting to keep the Oracle waiting, I quickly slipped into the dress.

It was simple: a long, flowy gown in a warm shade of brown. The sleeves were long and flared at the ends, fluttering slightly as I moved.

It hung loosely over my thin frame, the fabric swallowing me whole.

Still, it felt… comforting. Like something meant to protect me. Like something meant for starting over.

I began walking toward the ship when I saw the Oracle waiting for me.

“Good, you’re done,” she said, her face unreadable. “Our Sarki wants to see you.”

The mysterious man.

At the mention of him, a jolt of fear and excitement surged through me.

I said nothing and simply followed her as she led me into the ship. We walked down the same corridor as before, passing the Oracle’s room. All the doors looked identical, but I recognized hers by the small plant beside it. She must love plants. Her entire presence radiated something earthy something deeply rooted in nature.

We kept walking past several more doors until we reached the very end of the corridor.

A door slid open.

She stopped there and motioned for me to enter.

I took one hesitant step, then another.

The moment I crossed the threshold, the door sealed shut behind me with a soft hiss.

I spun around instantly, startled. My heart began to race.

The closed door. The isolation.

It triggered something.

An image flashed in my mind one I had buried, chained, and tried desperately to forget.

A cold, dark room.

Heavy footsteps.

Hands that didn’t care if I cried.

The air in my lungs thinned. I couldn’t breathe. Panic clawed at my chest, rising fast, faster than I could control. The darkness was pulling me under again.

Then

“Rosa.”

A single word. A voice firm, grounded, and oddly comforting.

It anchored me.

I turned.

It was him.

The mysterious man. The Sarki.