Black Swan

By Yelena Trushkov

What if
What if there is no Reality?
What if Darkness is not Evil?

Like many others, Aleris Kerdon had been enforced with the
opposite in her mind. But, when dawn draws closer, she finds
herself being asked those dreadful questions that could potentially
devastate the very foundation of her perceptual reality. And for those
painstaking moments, as the deluge fell upon her with its full fury, she
came to realise that this time, the questions were more terrifying than
the answers

But, there were so many answers, so many consequences, so many possibilities branching out into an infinite vastness.
The world had just become so much larger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Aug 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781482839869

Yelena Trushkov

Yelena Trushkov is a person with an interesting mind and she has a lot to say—not about herself, but, the dozens of realms she has created. You can always find her on Earth, but, she is secretly involved with battlefields and hideous politics, all unfolding in massive, unknown worlds.

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Copyright © 2016 by Yelena Trushkov.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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CONTENTS

EPISODE 0: NOVIS INITIIS

Dawn

Run

EPISODE 1: RENASCENTIA

Genesis

Hiraeth

Midnight

Strange

Worthless

Labyrinth

Wanderer

Ally

Uncovering

Alive

Twisted

Clash

Protected

Metamorphosis

Contender

Revelation

Infernal

Secrets

Father

Alone

Wounded

Nightmare

Talisman

Chaos

Peace

Nazgor

Heroes

Crumble

Resolution

Consequence

Power

Rebellious

Murderous

Trapped

Shaken

Monster

Judgement

Silence

Epilogue

"If you aren’t selfish now,

people will use you for their selfish motives."

EPISODE 0

Novis Initiis

DAWN

T HE WORLD IS FILLED with many kinds of creatures. Many of them struggle, a few of them rule. A smaller lot of them watch in silence.

But, all of them have a story to tell.

I am amongst the ones who watch and listen, but, do not speak. I have a queer story to tell you today and I hope you are eager to listen to me.

I am no hero. I am no villain. I have never led armies or instigated a rebellion. But, I have watched them kill. I have watched them die. I have watched them lie. I have watched them rise as victors. And I have watched them fade away.

I am a chronicler, a bridge crossing different worlds. I am the shadow you never see, the shadow that remains long after you perish.

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Zamość, Nazi-Occupied Poland, December 31, 1942

From the stillness that prevailed, a phoenix arose, set alight by the ashes of night.

The sun emerged from the icy peaks, drowning the dreary skies in a soft shade of saffron, bathing upon the mountains and the sprawling woodlands at its feet.

Estera watched, awestruck, at the majesty unveiling itself in front of her. She knew all of this was just a dream and that it was bound to wither away as reality set in. But, it didn’t matter to her.

She was simply happy that, for once, her mind would leave her dark memories of the war behind—for better, lighter ones.

War had plagued much of Estera Dabrowski’s life, but, it didn’t seem to cripple her. War had allowed her to experience the mysterious forest in a new light, showing her how little she knew about the wide, wide world she dwelled in. It had kindled inside her a passionate desire to live and to explore.

The clouds shifted and swelled near the peaks, swallowing the sun whole.

She rose to her feet. Suddenly, she felt the weight of the leather quiver slung on her back and she looked down to find a huge bow held firmly in her left hand.

She blinked and examined it.

Her dreams had never gone beyond tanks, guns and grenades before, because, those were the weapons she was familiar with. She had never thought about archery, but, for some reason, it didn’t seem that alien to her.

She turned around to find a massive stretch of pine trees. She breathed a sigh of relief.

The world seemed to look less strange now. Her dream had brought her to the cliff near Zamość.

But, there were no mountains near her village.

They were miles away from where she was standing, but, she could see them clearly, through the mist and the clouds shrouding their peaks.

She narrowed her eyes and edged closer to the end of the cliff. It was indeed strange.

The massif was two chains of white, colossal peaks, spiralling around each other. They looked deadly and surreal.

She had never seen that mountain range before, not even in any of Feliks’ paintings.

Feliks.

She scanned the vast expanse for him, walking around the bare trees, heading into the mist.

Many a times, her dreams would linger near memories from happier times.

Behind the thorny bushes by the forest stream, she would see, once in a while, her younger siblings, Cyryl and Ania, curiously gazing at a starry sky with the water gushing under their dainty feet. On other days, she would see Feliks, sitting under a tree with his nose buried in a small book or even painting or playing with the village boys, just like any other teenager.

She loved them dearly, you see.

Just then, she stumbled across a brown book lying on the snow. Its crispy, white pages fluttered wildly in the wind. Immediately, she rushed down the slope and picked it up.

Feliks and Estera were the only two people who knew of the existence of the thick, stiff-backed book.

Using the code language they had devised on the night before Christmas three years ago, they used this book to share secrets, ideas and memories with each other.

Wary of an outsider sneaking a peek at their work, both of them wrote under pseudonyms. Estera chose Aleris Kerdon while Feliks wrote under the names Aaron Westwalker and Aaron Zestron.

Feliks had created his pseudonym in a moment of rebellion, but, in order to add his personal touch—he mispronounced it, on purpose, as ‘Aah-ron.’

Estera had no particular reason behind choosing her unusual pseudonym. She had heard the name ‘Aleris’ before but, the last name was just two decent-sounding syllables jammed together. She didn’t like it that much now, but, she never bothered to have it changed.

As the years passed by, the pseudonyms transformed to become an integral part of their identities. Those names prompted a profound metamorphosis within them to endure the harshness of the war and not submit to the despair and pain.

She opened a random page. It was dated October 24, 1941. The first few lines were written by Estera;

Sometimes, I wonder what life would have been like if the Nazis hadn’t come here. I shiver when I think about how brutally they had shot those people in their ‘pacification’ programme. I get nightmares about them every single night. I hear their screams—their words. However, they do get softer with every passing day and I feel guilty about that.

The next paragraph was written by Feliks.

I had closed my eyes during their execution, unlike you. But, my mind had watched it all. Their screams make me shiver—remind me of so many terrible things and every time I think about it, I wonder what would have happened if I was the one with the muzzle on my head.

I can’t wrap my head around this worshipped idea of killing innocent people for one’s nation. It just seems like a romanticised excuse for sadism. More than the war, the unpredictability of cruelty frightens me.

I feel the world has gone mad. Even if this war comes to an end, I don’t think much will change. It will be like a thread. Once broken, you have to tie a knot to make it one piece again. It will never be the same.

Estera closed the book, feeling sick. Feliks’ words rung true. Nothing around them had changed, even though it had been forever since they had last seen peace.

A loud, childlike laugh echoed through the silence. It sounded carefree and happy, but, for some reason, it seemed unsettling—to Estera.

She saw a young boy running among the trees.

His fingers were thin and his hair was brown.

Everything seemed alright, but, his mere presence frightened Estera. The book slipped from her fingers and she followed him into the wilderness.

As she trailed him, she could hear the sound of flowing water. The rhythm of the cascading currents, the familiar scent of the wild bushes—she knew where the boy was taking her. It was the forest stream near her village.

Is it you, Cyryl?

The boy didn’t seem to hear her and simply sprinted towards the stream. Out of the blue, his image flickered and Estera froze.

He was an illusion. He was a lie.

No, she told herself and looked ahead to find the boy standing at the bank of the swift forest stream, gazing at the other side with a childish keenness.

It’s too dangerous for you to cross this alone, you know, Estera walked down the slope carefully, gripping onto her bow firmly.

I know, the boy answered and she stopped in her tracks.

He had answered her.

But, you can’t help me,—the boy still had his back facing her—we are worlds apart.

His words scared her stiff. What does he mean?

The boy turned around to face her. Her heart stopped.

His brown curls fell over his forehead, tickling his long eyelashes. His cheeks were ruddy and his lips were bright pink.

But, it were his eyes that had caught her rapt attention. They were brilliant and blue and sea green—he had teal eyes.

I am waiting for you at the other side. Do come as soon as possible.

He dashed towards the swift currents and instantaneously, he vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but thin wisps of mist.

She had wanted to stop him. She had questions to ask—but, the words dried up in her throat when she watched the mist glisten upon the touch of the sunlight, fading away quickly into nothing.

A deep noise tore into the stillness.

It was an elk, sitting at the other side of the stream.

Estera’s body lurched in disgust.

Its body was ridden with abscesses and wounds—all septic. It had lost much of its fur, exposing the chapped skin underneath. Its antlers had shrivelled away a long time ago and its eyes—they had an empty stare.

At the sight of the armed girl, the elk stiffened.

It didn’t seem afraid.

It knew it was going to die anyway.

Estera staggered away, confused by the sudden turn of events. Was her mind taking a test?

How can that be possible?

She scoffed and stood at the edge of the stream, waiting for the elk to disappear, like the boy.

But, it didn’t.

Instead, it remained, suffering all alone.

When it struggled to get onto its feet, the abscess at its thigh burst and the animal collapsed, writhing in pain. The thick pus and the blood—it dripped down its trembling leg onto the white snow. It still tried to rise; only harming the wounded skin further and further—the pain could not hold it back anymore.

Estera couldn’t bear to watch its agony. Its plight made her heart bleed.

Out of nowhere, the music of Christmas bells seeped into the silence and drowned the air in a sense of dread. She had always loved that music—it played when her family was together, celebrating. But, now, the music haunted her. It reminded her of the family she had lost—while she lived.

When another patch of infected skin began to bleed, her fingers instantly reached out for an arrow and she pulled it out of the quiver. The cold metal fletching of the arrow sent chills down her spine.

The elk drew its breath in trepidation.

She sat down on one knee and she pulled the nock of the arrow against the bow string.

Her ears turned deaf to the sound of the gushing water and she couldn’t feel the cold numbing her muscles anymore. The music—there was no music—that sound was a nightmare.

She aimed the arrowhead at its torso and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

I’m sorry.

She opened her eyes and shivered when the arrow’s chilly shaft brushed against her cheek. Her bow arm trembled, not, because of the cold. The arrow’s golden tip shone softly.

No, Esra, she whispered, you must lessen its pain.

The elk was staring at her, awaiting its death patiently.

She loosened her bow arm and tilted her head slightly, making sure she had aimed accurately. The winds were blowing wildly, but, they couldn’t deter her. They couldn’t affect her.

She closed her eyes.

Please forgive me.

She left the arrow and it darted ahead, piercing through the mist and the thick air.

The bells ceased to ring.

The shrill scream crumbled her heart and she tightened her grip on the bow—feeling choked. At that moment, realisation dawned upon her—that cry was too high to be the voice of an elk.

She opened her eyes, shaken.

There was no elk.

She had shot Estera.

No!

Her dream had taken a drastic turn. At the other side of the stream, was another Estera, dying.

The same auburn locks, the same blue eyes, the same build, the same voice. One was the murderer, the other was the victim.

She collapsed backwards and scrambled away from the bank, mortified. The arrow had torn into the girl’s stomach.

Why did you do this to me?

Her fingers bore into the soil and she tried to swallow the pain and muster the courage to fight. But, the arrow only bore deeper into her body, twisting and turning inside her.

Estera shook her head furiously and sunk her nails into her hair, gripping the sides of her face firmly. She couldn’t have—nothing made sense.

"No!"

She ran towards the stream. She had to help Estera. She had never meant to harm her.

A sharp pain erupted in her head and her left shoulder and she was tossed backwards, away from the stream.

There was a massive force surrounding the stream, forbidding her from touching the water. It seemed like the other side of the stream was just a picture—it never really existed.

Her head throbbed in pain and the world around her turned. For a moment, it felt like she was drifting in a void.

We are worlds apart.

Her throat ran dry when she heard the boy’s voice echo in her mind.

Suddenly, the environment around her warped and adopted an entirely different aura.

Tall, green stalks of grass emerged from the soil and the snow sunk away. The pine trees grew shorter and their crowns grew wider with creepers winding around their broadening trunks.

Wild bushes with violet leaves slowly sprung around their roots and she was standing in a wholly different world.

The winds died down to a soft breeze.

No, her voice sounded broken.

The franticness within her surged. She had to break past whatever that was holding her back.

She got onto her knees and paused, still feeling extremely dizzy. In no way was she strong enough to defeat that force—or break that wall. She didn’t even know what it was.

Damn it.

Then, she saw a small brown spot on the back of her right hand. It was small and inconspicuous but, it was there. It looked like a birthmark.

But, Estera had had no birthmark on her hand.

She turned behind to find the brown book. Its pages clapped loudly in the breeze.

A cackling sound alerted her and she looked ahead.

There was a mist. It came from nowhere, but, it only swelled and swelled, engulfing everything on the other side of the stream at its wake.

Esra, she rose to her feet. Strangely, she felt like she had grown taller.

Her body hurt when she dragged herself towards the stream. Her fingers twitched, her vision grew hazy, her head was reeling. She could barely stand.

Her heart pounded as the mist crept towards the dying Estera menacingly. There was something within that mist that frightened her deeply, but, the injured girl knew nothing of its evil nature.

That mist—it made every inch of her body tremor. It made her blood curdle and she did not know why.

When the mist lingered dreadfully close to the dying Estera, she awoke, absolutely terrified. But, it was too late.

Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin lost its colour, turning into a pale purplish grey.

You robbed me of everything I had, she clutched the arrow, struggling to pull it out of her body.

You killed me.

Dark, massive red blotches appeared under her skin, bulging into blisters. Her skin cracked and bled and she felt blood rise up her throat.

She looked up at her murderer, with desperation in her eyes.

Parasite.

And before she knew it, the girl had vanished into the silence that ensued, ceasing to exist, forever.

She dropped her bow, traumatised and exhausted. Her vision turned whiter and whiter with every passing second. Every inch of her body twisted and turned in disgust. She hated herself.

As she lay unconscious, a series of images flashed in front of her.

There were images of fire and the dreaded swastika, of bravery and martyrs, of an archer and a dead girl with auburn hair and lastly, of a young boy with teal eyes.

Fear consumed her and she struggled to hurl herself out of the dream, but, she was no more in control of the dream. Her mind was controlling it.

But, how could she and her mind be two different entities?

How does that even make sense?

Realisation consumed her, just like the rising sun. At first the truth whispered, then, in an instant, it roared and engulfed everything in its mighty grasp.

She burst awake, still encased in her dream—but, all that remained of it now was a void.

The voice of the boy filled the silence and she felt she saw his teal eyes staring at her from the midst of the darkness, just before the dream ended;

Don’t keep me waiting for too long, Aleris Kerdon.

RUN

E STERA’S EYES BURST OPEN and she stared at the ceiling of the cold room. The windows were bolted—just like the last time she had seen them. The door was closed. The flame in the oil lamp had died out a long time ago. Everything was alright.

But, she was too afraid to close her eyes again.

The wooden floor creaked loudly when she sat up. Her head was still reeling and her entire body was drained of its energy.

All of this was just a dream.

She looked down to find Ania and Cyryl fast asleep, undisturbed. Cyryl had his arm resting protectively over Ania’s frail body.

Her heart quivered slightly when she saw her younger brother. He was growing up too quickly, accepting his responsibility as a guardian to little Ania too immediately and he was slowly learning to keep matters to himself.

It reminded her of the teal-eyed boy. But, Cyryl looked nothing like him. Cyryl had hazel eyes, just like their father. He had even inherited his long fingers.

Cyryl will never become anything like him, to me.

She brushed the troubling memory away and looked outside.

The skies were rumbling softly and the clouds from the previous evening’s hailstorm were finally shifting away. She could see a faint outline of the gibbous moon, hidden away behind the haze.

This is a dark time, she shuddered, but, in the future, it will grow even dark. Evil will remain as long as life does.

She felt a distinct chill in the air when the moon re-emerged from the clouds.

And then, all of it came back to her.

She saw images of fire and the swastika, once again. She heard the harrowing screams and caught a glimpse of charred flesh. She heard gunshots and Ania weeping. The vision of death and gloom devoured her mind.

She rose to her feet, breathless.

Were they mere thoughts? Were they something more? Why was everything so vivid and so unnecessarily detailed? Why?

Why had they come in the first place?

She could hear the voices of the wronged, their screams and their last words, before they were silenced by the roar of the gun, before they were silenced by the bloodlust flames.

As she reached out for the door, images of executions and Nazi propaganda flooded her mind, hammering their brutality on her, making her all too aware of how ruined the world was.

The moment she felt the wintry air blow against her face, she was convinced it was more than just a nightmare.

Zamość was going to be trampled.

She grabbed her sweater and rushed outside, ready to face the biting cold. The ground was damp and there were clumps of snow, mud and gunpowder scattered everywhere on the narrow roads. There were a few people huddled in lonely corners, smoking and chatting. She ran past them and disappeared into the winding alleys.

Sometimes, I wonder what life would have been like if the Nazis hadn’t come here.

She paused when she remembered Feliks’ words and looked up. Black fumes erupted from the chimneys and the furnaces only grew hotter. The whole place was bustling and there were people everywhere, working hard.

She was standing at the heart of the village—the place where the people made their weapons to fight the Nazis.

The new supply of gunpowder was being carried to the factory while boxes filled with grenades were being transported to the arsenal. There were armed men everywhere, keeping an eye out for intruders.

Suddenly, a hand gripped her forearm and pulled her towards a lonely corner, What do you think you’re doing here?

Feliks, she turned around to find the boy looking down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

The Nazis are coming!

Feliks released his grip on her forearm, leaving clumps of gunpowder dirtying the maroon sleeves of her sweater.

He knew Estera wouldn’t lie but, he also knew that there was no way she could know of the secret activities of the Nazis.

Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw disbelief in his eyes. I am not lying, Feliks.

Esra, everybody knows the Nazis were born to kill, he sighed, "how can you possibly come to know that just today?"

You have to understand, she remembered the teal-eyed boy, We are staring down the barrel of a gun. With the Jews almost exterminated, they are coming for us with their soldiers and artillery. They are going to storm our land and kill our people. They want to kill us now. They are readying their guns and scavenging the forests for us as I speak, ready to drench the soil I am standing on in blood and mix the snow with burning rubble.

Feliks noticed the soldiers and the bystanders glance at him and Estera when they passed by and he felt uncomfortable. From a distance, a tall, dark-haired boy called out to him, They need you!

They’ll have to wait for now!

Estera turned around to find Klimek, the boy with whom she, her siblings and Feliks shared their home with.

Once he disappeared, she turned to Feliks, You have to be—

No, he held her wrist, pulling her towards the forest. Let’s sort this out.

"We don’t have to sort this out. Let’s call for increased patrolling in the forested borders and warn the people of a possible invasion so that we can shift them underground."

Since when did you start to think you were capable of giving orders?

Since I realised that the Nazis are out to destroy us. They are coming, Feliks.

The sharpness in her tone made Feliks all the more uncomfortable. What he was witnessing now, was very different from the young girl he had known. Yes, Estera was a sharp and straightforward girl, but, now, she sounded different.

This savage world has eaten away your sanity.

He grabbed a burning torch and pulled Estera into the forest, towards the stream.

The fire burnt brightly, lighting their way through the blackness. She saw the golden beams radiating from the raging fire reveal the wrinkled barks of the trees, several of them blackened by gunpowder.

She could see the grains of falling snow being carried by the gale gleam when they grazed past the fire’s light. She could see the snowfall weaken and the wind grow less fierce with every passing second.

As the winds died down, she knew destruction was lurking close. She looked behind her to find the entire village, shrinking away from her. The thought of it being razed down to the ground—she couldn’t imagine it.

Feliks stopped and held her shoulder, in an effort to calm her down and make her understand.

Since we came here, our only aim is to protect our people, our interests. That’s what we live for and you know that.

I do not seek to instil fear.

I am not saying you are.

I am worried. I had a horrible dream a few minutes ago. It was unlike any other. It had nothing to do with my memories, though, yes, the book did have some role to play in it, she paused and inhaled sharply, looking straight into his eyes.

In that dream, there was this mist… a boy with teal eyes… I had killed Estera. I… was somebody else, somebody like… Aleris Kerdon.

Estera’s chest stiffened when she met his gaze, I murdered the girl.

Feliks’ hand slipped down from her shoulder and he took a step away from her. She had spoken about herself in third person and she felt terribly guilty.

But, what does that have to do with the Nazis?

At that instant, he felt stupid—he had got carried away momentarily.

Before it all came to an end, I saw these images… and believe me, Feliks, their messages overpowered me. I saw fire, I saw the swastika. They were the first images. I could hear Ania crying… I could hear so many people screaming in fear, confusion and pain as the doubt of this being a premonition plunged me into darkness.

She scowled and shrunk away from him, looking down at his feet in embarrassment, God, I feel sick.

"This is all about a dream, Esra?"

She felt chagrined when she looked at him. Can’t you just warn them to be more careful tonight? Please!

"We are careful."

Are you careful enough to protect yourself from invading Nazis?

Esra, since when did you start believing your dreams?

She bit her lip and avoided his sharp gaze. Since they started to make me sick, she answered in a low voice. It was honest, but, it wasn’t convincing enough to make Feliks believe her.

My God, Esra, he muttered and glanced towards the village. He remembered that Klimek had called him to continue working and that he had, thoughtlessly, chosen Esra’s hysteria over it. He regretted his decision now.

He sighed inwardly and walked towards Estera, Let’s just head back, now. You need some sleep. This forest has started to make you mad.

He held out his hand for her but, she slapped it away, I am not coming with you. I want to stay here for a while.

"Here?"

He looked around to find a blank darkness staring back at him. For as long as he could remember, Estera had never gathered the courage to stay alone in the forest after sundown, let alone at the dead of the night after having an awful nightmare.

No.

Feliks shook his head, You can’t stay here now. It’s very dark. You might actually end up killing yourself.

Estera narrowed her eyes at him, If you’re afraid, you can take the torch with you. I need some time alone. Meet me at the stream when you’re done.

Saying so, she began to walk into the forest. He stood there, unable to believe what he was seeing.

With passing time, the darkness between them grew and after a few seconds, she was out of his sight. Only her footsteps whispered in the silence and before he could decipher where she could be, they vanished too, leaving no trace of her existence.

He stood there for a while, patiently waiting for her to come back to him, running. But, she didn’t. She was gone.

He sighed.

She had grown so much braver. She was only thirteen years old and he was just a few months older. But, he had learnt to create bombs while she gathered food and cared for the children. She was always calm and composed but, now, she spoke like a different person. She sounded rebellious.

What is wrong with you?

Feliks was taken aback when he saw Klimek appear in front of him out of the blue. Immediately, he made up a lie, Ania is ill.

Why did you have to go to such a secluded place for that?

He shrugged his shoulders, There was another issue we had to sort out… regarding our savings.

Klimek led him back to their workplace. On their way, Feliks placed the torch on an empty post and followed the boy. As the night turned darker, dozens of people began to head back home while members of the new batch took over the empty positions. Everything was well organised.

So, do you need medicines for her now?

He furrowed his eyebrows at Klimek, not understanding what he meant.

Wasn’t that why you were talking about your savings?

Feliks shook his head, No, Ania will get better by tomorrow, hopefully. I had asked Estera to calculate our savings.

A smile crept on Feliks’ lips; he had almost blown his cover. For a moment, he wondered how Ania was keeping up with the cold. She was the weakest out of the five, including Klimek.

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Estera flung another pebble into the stream, crumbling the silence enveloping her.

She was sitting on the bank of the stream, all alone. She gazed at the wooden plank placed across the width of the stream, awaiting Feliks.

She wondered why the bridge had been absent in her dream. She knew it had always existed. She had crossed it several times before, while exploring the forest with Ania.

She looked down at the pebbles in her hands. She had thrown three already.

She threw them all into the water at once and turned around.

Not once had the darkness frightened her tonight. It just couldn’t and she didn’t know why. So many strange events were unfolding today and she just hoped her dream wouldn’t turn out to be a reality. She wished she wouldn’t have to see anybody die tonight.

She stood up and walked away from the stream, up the slope.

Suddenly, she stepped on a stone and it rolled down the slope and fell into the water with a light plop!

But, its sound was overshadowed by another. The deep sound pierced through the mist and her heart, making every muscle of her body rigid in dread.

It was the sharp, haunting call of an elk.

The animal stood silently, at the other side of the stream, gazing at her through the darkness and the haze.

Estera stared at the elk with trepidation in her eyes. She took a step towards it and slipped, rolling down the slope. She forced herself to a stop and got onto her feet, keeping a close eye on the elk. Her auburn locks were dirtied with mud and snow.

She picked her pace as she crossed the wobbling bridge, carefully. At first, her steps were slow and shaky and then, in an instant, she was sprinting across its length.

She jumped off the plank and fell on the ground, right at the feet of the animal. Estera laughed, unable to believe that she had made it. Her fingers bore into the damp soil and she looked behind her to find the stream. Everything was alright.

You’re alive!

She exclaimed in happiness when she neared the elk and stroked its face, combing the snow off its fur. Thank the Lord!

The elk didn’t run away from her. It only blinked in surprise as the girl caressed its face. Its quick breaths tickled her fingers and she pulled her hands away.

She noticed its beautiful antlers and froze, engraving its magnificence in her mind.

The elk was tall and muscular. Its eyes resembled an onyx and gleamed mildly in the gentle radiance of the moon.

The elk took a few steps away from her.

Suddenly, she heard the wooden bridge behind her tremble as if somebody was crossing it. Expecting Feliks, she smiled, You took—

There was nobody.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She remembered the chill of the cold metal fletching and what her choice had eventually led to. She remembered its blisters and its wounds and lastly, her horror.

She paused and turned behind to look at the animal.

Nothing was alright. She knew it. This was the dead end.

She approached the elk, but, it did not move. She reached her hand out to touch its face, but, she did not see it blink.

Instead, its eyes looked different.

Beneath the thin layer of tears surrounding its oval pupil, she saw a grey that had robbed its eyes of all its beauty. Its eyes had gone from a glossy black to grey—a stony grey.

Her fingers trembled as she stroked its cheek, lightly, and touched its snout.

She didn’t feel its racing breaths tickle her skin.

Suddenly, one of its fore legs shook and crumpled. The elk fell down to the ground and lay there, motionless.

Estera stood there with terror in her large eyes.

She slowly crawled towards it and touched its face. Its fur felt like velvet and for a moment, she couldn’t believe it was dead. But, the moment she pressed her fingers against its cheek, she noticed the panic in its eyes and how hard the muscles underneath its skin were.

Its muscles felt like bone.

Her chest tightened and she pressed her fingers against its neck and torso. The flesh underneath its skin felt as hard as stone and as smooth as glass.

Just then, she heard footsteps from behind her and out of the blue, the mist around her thickened, its thin wisps wrapping her in their moist grip.

A deafening blast ripped through the stillness.

They have come.

She staggered when she realised the Nazis had reached Zamość. She had failed. She couldn’t do anything to protect her people.

She turned around to meet her nightmare and she realised the truth.

She had not killed Estera.

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A harsh scream tore through the streets and then, a gunshot boomed.

At the sound of it, Feliks remembered the girl’s words and he trembled. Are they really here?

Several gunshots followed and everyone began to flee the factory, scurrying to the arsenal to grab their weapons. The sirens blared to life, throwing the entire village awake in an instant.

Soldiers rushed to their positions and kept an eye out for incoming warplanes. Feliks knew it; the end was nigh. His home was going to turn into a wasteland in hours.

Estera, he whispered when he felt the cold air stab his skin.

Let’s go and get them. We have got to be together, Klimek rushed southwards, expecting Feliks to follow him. But, the boy stopped him, You get Cyryl and Ania. I have to go to the forest to get Estera.

If she is alive.

He grimaced when he remembered how hard Estera had tried to make him believe her. But, he was helpless too. How could he have convinced the soldiers to tighten their patrols?

Klimek tossed his torchlight towards him and Feliks rushed to the forest while the boy left to get the children.

Feliks wasn’t afraid anymore. He walked right into the darkness with his flickering flashlight.

The moment he heard the soft noise of flowing water, he felt his mind go dizzy. Thousands of questions tangled his mind in a heap of confusion.

Estera, are you alright?

What had you seen?

I’m so sorry I hadn’t listened to you.

How did you come to know?

Will we live?

As he neared the stream, a strange silence engulfed him. He knew it.

There would be no answers to his questions.

He climbed down the slope and he saw the mist rising from the stream settle down; its wisps growing clearer and heavier with time. The bridge juddered when he turned around.

He found himself looking into pitch darkness.

But, he could feel it. He could sense the constant gaze burn into him, wickedly.

When he found nothing, he proceeded to cross the bridge, with the torchlight in his hand.

Instantly, a memory flashed before him.

"If you want us to be friends for a decently long time, Estera’s voice disturbed him, you will have to tell me something about you that you absolutely hate."

"How will that help in securing our friendship?"

I could use it against you when we become enemies. So, now, when you say it to me, you will try to protect it from others and be good with me all the time.

What about you?

I will tell you one too. Keep it safely under your hat. Well, since I suggested it, you have to tell me yours first.

I still don’t find any logic in it.

As he crossed the bridge, everything began to unveil itself to him. Through the mist, he saw a large figure lying near the stream, stationary. Instantly, he flashed the torch on it and froze, standing in the middle of the flowing stream.

The elk’s dead gaze reduced him to shivers.

As the shock wore away, he edged closer to it, warily. He kneeled down on the ground beside the corpse. A flurry of dark thoughts clogged him, What happened here?

He softly touched it and stopped. It felt like stone. Impossible.

Estera, his voice was barely audible. He rose to his feet and the torchlight in his hand shivered. What if the next place he shone his flashlight—he would have to see something he did not want to?

Even without the light, he could see it, even though he tried to deny it. His soul crumbled when he came to accept what had transpired, with every step he took towards it.

The snow powdered under his numb feet.

He saw the auburn hair and the blood—dripping down the lifeless fingers into the stream.

Esra.

All had been lost.

All that had remained of what he had held most dear—was a vestige that was bound to simply rot away—and the memories—they would only poison him forever.

Esra.

He pulled her body away from the stream and held her close, pressing her white face against to his chest. Her body felt light and fragile and cold—like it would flee from his grip any moment and escape into a world he could never reach.

But, she had already left him.

Her pale skin felt icy cold against his. He softly brushed his thumb on her cheek, trying to find the comforting warmth that had always radiated from her, until then. She was gone. Whatever he knew of her was gone, forever.

Why hadn’t he felt something? Why didn’t he know?

Feliks!

Ania’s voice tore through the silence.

Klimek and Cyryl followed the girl as she crossed the bridge, frenetically. The wood creaked loudly when it carried the weight of the three people.

Feliks! Klimek called out to the boy, We have to leave. They will be here any moment!

The moment Klimek reached the other side, he felt a negative feeling surround him and he looked around.

When they found the elk’s corpse, all three of them halted, terrified. Ania looked