Chapter IV — The Runaway Princess

  Three days had passed since Schnee abandoned the ruins of the empire without once turning her head. She did not look back.

  The frozen wilderness unfolded endlessly before her, a desolate expanse of skeletal trees and colorless skies, where even the wind seemed exhausted by its own existence. The cold should have claimed her quickly. It should have penetrated her thin clothing, seized her fragile lungs, and stilled her heart.

  It did not.

  Her small legs trembled beneath her weight with every uncertain step. She stumbled more times than she could remember, falling into snow that sliced against her torn skin. Ice cut into her bare feet until crimson marked her path in faint, dissolving traces. Hunger burned within her stomach like corrosive fire, relentless and sharp.

  Yet she continued forward.

  There was no plan guiding her direction. No destination anchoring her movement. Only a single, primal certainty echoing through her mind:

  'If I stop, I will die.'

  At times, as exhaustion clouded her thoughts, a question surfaced with fragile insistence.

  'Why am I the one running?'

  'I did nothing wrong.'

  The unfairness of it pressed against her chest, heavy and suffocating. But she did not allow the thought to remain. Fairness had no place in the world she had been born into. Reality did not bend to innocence.

  By the fifth day, her vision blurred at the edges.

  By the sixth—

  She saw smoke rising faintly in the distance.

  A village.

  ??????? ?????????? ??????

  It was small and unremarkable, nestled against the dying forest as though attempting to hide from the world beyond it. Wooden homes stood in uneven rows. Children ran between narrow pathways, their laughter rising into the pale afternoon air. Merchants argued loudly over coins and produce. Women carried woven baskets filled with vegetables and bread.

  Warmth existed here.

  Ordinary life.

  Schnee entered the village as though she were a fragment of shadow that had detached itself from something darker. Her once-luminous silver hair hung dull and tangled with dirt. Her clothing, already thin, clung to her frame in torn strips. She must have appeared less like a child and more like something unearthed from frozen soil.

  She approached a woman first, her steps unsteady.

  “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I am hungry.”

  The woman did not acknowledge her presence. Schnee tried again, gathering what little strength remained within her.

  There was no response.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  It was as though she occupied a space that did not exist. A tightness formed in her chest, but she moved on. At a fruit stall, she forced herself to speak once more.

  “Just one,” she said softly. “Please.”

  The merchant looked at her with visible irritation, as if an unpleasant odor had disturbed his business. Without hesitation, he shoved her aside. She fell to the ground.

  The world tilted violently.

  For a moment, darkness threatened to swallow her vision. But she stood again.

  Falling meant nothing.

  Remaining on the ground meant death.

  As she steadied herself, she caught sight of a father lifting his small daughter into his arms. The child laughed freely, her fingers tangled in his hair.

  A fragile whisper surfaced within Schnee’s heart.

  "Why not me?"

  "Why was I born into ruin while they live within warmth?"

  She swallowed the question before it could grow. Hunger roared louder than longing.

  Then—

  She collided with someone.

  ??????? ?????????????????? ??????????

  The woman before her was adorned in fine fabrics of deep violet and silver, jewels resting elegantly against her throat. Guards stood on either side of her, armored and alert.

  For the briefest instant, a faint and dangerous hope ignited within Schnee. Perhaps this one will help.

  A sharp heel pressed against her cheek, forcing her face into the dirt.

  “Watch where you crawl,” the woman said evenly, as though correcting an animal.

  The guards lifted Schnee by the collar of her torn clothing and discarded her onto the roadside.

  “She is dead,” one muttered indifferently. The woman glanced down only once.

  “Disgusting.”

  Those were the final words she heard before darkness overtook her. In that moment, something settled quietly inside her.

  'No one is your ally.'

  'If you cannot survive, you are nothing.'

  'If you offer nothing of value, you are invisible.'

  Her consciousness faded.

  ??????????????? ?????? ??????????

  When she regained awareness, the sky above her was black and scattered with indifferent stars. The stench reached her before understanding did.

  Rotting scraps.

  Broken crates.

  Discarded waste.

  She had been thrown away with the rest. She lay there silently, staring upward.

  "Why am I still alive?"

  No tears formed. No scream escaped her throat.

  “I hate living,” she whispered into the darkness. Yet even then, she did not find hatred for people themselves.

  The realization confused her. If she did not hate them, what was she becoming?

  Footsteps interrupted the silence. Low growls followed.

  Five. Perhaps six.

  Wild dogs circled her frail body, their eyes reflecting faint starlight. They understood what she was.

  Food.

  Her limbs were too weak to carry her weight. Her lungs burned too fiercely to allow escape. Perhaps this is acceptable, she thought faintly.

  Perhaps this is where it ends.

  She closed her eyes.

  ??????? ???????????????? ??????????????

  A soft warmth brushed against her eyelids.

  Not heat.

  Not fire.

  But something gentler. Like the quiet fall of snow before dawn. For a fleeting second, she believed death had arrived.

  She forced her eyes open.

  Beyond the circling dogs stood a tall figure bathed in pale luminescence. Long white hair cascaded toward the earth like flowing silk. A delicate crown of wildflowers rested upon their head. Butterflies drifted through the air around them, unafraid.

  Their blue eyes seemed endless.

  And what radiated from them was not power, nor authority— But peace.

  Schnee blinked. The vision dissolved.

  In its place stood a boy.

  Black hair framed his face. His red eyes held a sharpness that belonged to someone far older than his years. Dark brown samurai garments clung to his lean frame, stained faintly with fresh blood. A black blade rested across his back.

  The dogs lay motionless upon the snow. Their deaths were clean.

  Precise.

  Silent.

  Even the snow beneath them remained undisturbed. Schnee’s breath caught faintly.

  "Did he do that?"

  He stepped closer. There was unmistakable killing intent within his gaze.

  Predator.

  Survivor.

  Yet beneath that sharp edge rested something unexpected.

  Stillness.

  He did not look at her with cruelty. He did not look at her with pity.

  He studied her as one might examine a blade—assessing whether it would endure or shatter.

  Schnee met his eyes. And in a voice stripped of fear, she whispered,

  “Kill me.”

  The request was neither dramatic nor desperate. It was honest.

  He offered no reply. Instead, he reached into a small cloth pouch and placed a piece of bread beside her.

  Then he turned away.

  No explanation.

  No name.

  No words.

  Only the quiet sound of his footsteps fading into the night.

  And for the first time since she had fled the empire—

  Someone had chosen not to let her die.