Two days had passed since the short earthquake. Once again the sun felt hot enough to cook a person if it could burn its way through the merciful shield of branches. That was something always true about the Mietha; the temperature was so high it was a wonder why the forest didn't burst into flames, but those within were never too far from running water or the cool shade of a tree.

Azela sat by some of this mysteriously cold water now, washing a handful of carrots. "Wish I had a diary," she said, her words carried away by the sound of the current. "Day fifteen: Ate roots. End of entry." She laughed halfheartedly, then sighed, wondering what day it really was. Counting days seemed pointless after the third one. It was a relaxing life; food was plentiful and most of the wildlife was friendly. But once again her thoughts began to wander to the world outside.

"At least no one has tried to kill me lately," she said. "I think my standards may have gotten a bit low."

Sighing again, she rose with carrots in one hand and another full of water, which she carried to her strawberry patch. There she gently sprinkled the icy liquid over the lush green foliage, watching as droplets glistened like jewels in the sunlight.

The strawberries here grew fast. Only a tiny bit of water was necessary, and in two days a plump, almost inedibly sweet strawberry waited to be plucked. They seemed to have adapted to the lack of rainfall.

Thanks to Five, she had read about the puzzling nature of this area. Rain was rare yet life flourished. In any other place, the lack of rainfall and unending heat would have transformed the landscape into a barren waste. Yet the Mietha teemed with vitality.

As she examined the plants in her tiny garden, she smiled. Whatever the reason, it was convenient. Whether it was a quirk of geography or the workings of some form of magic, she was grateful for the abundance that surrounded her.

Then her ears twitched involuntarily, interrupting her thoughts. Some new sound had wandered into her campsite. It sounded like...

What was the word?

"Music," she said.

She closed her eyes to focus. A woman's singing voice drifted among the wind, a sound so slight that she had to quiet her thoughts to hear it. With a deep breath, she centered herself, letting the world around her fade into the background. Slowly, she lifted her head, her ears pivoting independently in different directions, seeking out the source.

It was coming from upstream. A memory surfaced of the time she had eavesdropped in the library, and then evaded the lynch mobs shortly after. Curiosity and fear battled inside of her, and curiosity won. I can handle this, she assured herself. She won't even know I'm there.

Azela set off, following the melody as it beckoned her deeper into the forest.

The noise from the stream's current and rustling of leaves in the wind concealed her approach. Occasionally she bent down to listen again, and soon she could detect a scent as well. It was a much sweeter scent than that of a glitch or forest animal. Before long she left the stream and weaved her way through the trees in pursuit of the voice.

Drawing closer to her quarry, Azela slowed. Soon she ducked down to crawl through the bushes, sniffing and listening for the trail, navigating through the dense undergrowth with deliberate grace. Every now and then she paused, listening.

As she neared the source of the sound, Azela's heart quickened. The scent grew stronger. She crept forward, her body low, her movements silent.

The trees and shrubs opened into a clearing. Cautiously, Azela peeked out to see a girl.

The girl's appearance was striking—a colorless shadow cast against a canvas of vibrant hues. She wore black leather despite the sweltering heat, as if in purposeful defiance against the natural world. Long, dark hair cascaded in waves down her back. A sheathed sword rested nearby on her left side. Her ears were small and round, and she looked almost like a glitch, but smelled different; a sour, sweaty smell mixed with a sweeter, milky smell.  Azela guessed that this must be a sapien.

So close now, sadness could not only be heard in the stranger's singing, it could be felt. Whoever she was, she was a marvel for the eyes and ears, like something out of a sorrow filled dream.

Drawing closer, Azela could feel the palpable sadness that emanated from the stranger, permeating the air around her. But there was a beauty in her sorrow. Azela couldn't help but be captivated by her presence. As she lay atop the dark gray boulder, her figure silhouetted against the dappled light of the forest canopy, she seemed like a figure out of a dream.

Even the dark gray boulder that the girl lay atop gave an instinctual sense of gloom. It was almost as dark as the girl's leather.

As Azela gazed upon the stranger, she felt a pang of empathy stir within. The song was slow and melodic, with lyrics of being confused and alone. The girl sang,

"Oh Rea bless this lonesome soul,

Lost in a dream she can't control.

In depths of night, she finds no home,

Her spirit drifts in dark alone.

Within her heart, a hollow ache,

From in this dream she'll never wake.

So Rea hear this humble plea,

Grant me the strength to break her free.

She's fallen far and sunken deep,

Awaken me from endless sleep."

The mystery girl most likely wished for privacy, but Azela found herself unable to leave. This was the first new person she had seen in days, and the song was enchanting. It pulled at her heart, and it wasn't long before her eyes glistened with tears.

Caught in the spell of the stranger's song, Azela felt her emotions welling up inside her, bubbling to the surface. The melody stirred something deep within. Without realizing it, she began to cry.

The girl on the rock stopped abruptly. She was silent for a moment, and then shouted, "Who's there?"

A sharp panic stabbed through Azela's trance. Standing up, she slowly emerged from her hiding spot. "I'm sorry for interrupting you," Azela said timidly.

Flickers of emotions danced across the strange girl's features. "Of all the figments my fractured mind could conjure, it summons you?"

Azela tilted her head. "My name is Azela... should I know you?" Something wasn't right with how the girl looked at her, and this sapien did seem hauntingly familiar.

As the girl continued to regard Azela with her violet-eyed gaze, she muttered to herself, "The loveliest face I've ever beheld, stumbling upon me in this forsaken forest? These hallucinations are becoming rather obvious."

Azela paid little attention to her words because the girl's identity had struck her as she spoke, and a rush of thoughts all tried to fill her head at once. This was the killer! The girl from the alley! Should she run? Pretend not to know her? Prepare to defend herself?

Through the maze of indecisive thoughts, Azela heard herself say, "I remember you. You're the stranger that saved me in Jastria, but I never heard your name."

"Why should my name matter?" The girl's hand crept toward her sword. "To you, I'm merely a stranger, and a dangerous one at that. Let us keep it that way. Now, depart."

"They think it was me," Azela said, "That I killed those people."

A flicker of sympathy softened the girl's features momentarily, but then her expression hardened, and she snapped, "Why should I believe that? You had no weapon. Did they just assume you tore them apart with your bare hands? And why should I care? Go away!"

"I'm sorry," Azela said quickly, though a defensive edge crept into her thoughts: sorry you had me exiled, maybe.

This was it, finally she had met her savior. But this girl was also the one who led to the loss of her home. How should she feel? Whatever it was, it was covered up by her anger and disappointment.

"Why?" Azela asked. The stranger looked at her with a puzzling expression, and she finished, "Why are you such a bitch? They chased me down after you left! They beat me! Tried to set me on fire! Now I have nowhere to go and you don't care? How were you able to save me when you have no conscience?"

The woman touched her sword. Sheer horror dawned on the stranger's face as she realized, "No… Oh gods, no! You're real!"

But Azela had already turned and fled.

Shafts of fading sunlight pierced through the dense foliage, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow across her path. She darted between the trees, her movements instinctual, faster than any sapien could follow. The ground rose and fell beneath her feet, roots and rocks threatening to trip her at every turn, but she danced over them effortlessly.

Azela sprinted for a good distance before gradually slowing to a stop. She wondered why she felt so hesitant to leave. Each step felt like a battle against an invisible force, pulling her in conflicting directions.

"Probably shouldn't have aggravated the crazy sword lady," she regretted.

She took one more step, then another, then another. Azela forced herself to find a pace and continue, though the internal struggle threatened to overwhelm her. It felt as if she were tearing herself apart by walking away, yet something held her back from turning around. What was it about that girl? Azela couldn't discern if it was her own yearning for connection or simmering anger that slowed her pace.

As the sky began to darken, she noticed the hush that had fallen over the forest. It was as if the birds and other animals had stopped in their daily routines to listen to the song as well. Even the normally ceaseless wind had been silenced. Only the sound of the stream remained.

Eventually, Azela stumbled back into her campsite, the strange encounter weighing on her mind. She threw herself into tending to her garden, seeking solace in the familiar routine, yet unable to shake the feelings stirred by the strange girl's presence.

"Should I go back?" she asked, and answered herself, "No. She told me that she's dangerous. I can probably trust her on that." She took a deep breath. "I do hope to hear her sing again, though it'd have to be from a safer distance."

The night deepened. Stars emerged one by one, glinting behind gaps in the sea of leaves. To watch them, Azela relaxed on her handcrafted bed next to the water and thought back to the night she had fled from Jastria. That dark-haired, scar-covered girl seemed so powerful then, so impressive. The way she had vanquished those two would-be rapists easily, while Azela had been helpless with fear, was almost inspiring.

Who was she kidding, Azela thought wryly. That girl was beyond inspiring. Azela was in awe. Dreamily she thought of how fluid her motions were, the smooth confidence with which she had kicked the body off of her, firmly stepping over Azela to take its place. And  The way that girl looked at her with those eyes—dark violet and brimming with an intensity that stirred something deep within. Eyes filled with desire...

But desire for what? Against rational sense, Azela's mind had wandered into more forbidden territories, entertaining sensual fantasies that she dared not admit to thinking, but the look in that woman's eyes wasn't that of simple lust. There was something else there, something that seemed almost inhuman.

Azela shook her head, dismissing her wandering thoughts as fatigue crept over her. She curled up, seeking solace in the embrace of sleep, the enigmatic stranger's gaze lingering in the recesses of her mind.