Of all places to end up, they just had to end up in Cicuta Forest.

Marick groaned. He’d take bloodthirsty sea monsters over the dwellers of Cicuta Forest. Stories of how people disappeared or turned into plant food convinced him well enough to never venture into Cicuta Forest. But here I am. He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair.

“The faster we leave, the better,” Marick decided and stood up. “Sprout, how’s the ship?”

Rowen shook his head. “She’s no longer air-worthy, Cap.”

He clucked his tongue. “Nothing we can do to get her flying?”

“Her engine’s destroyed.”

“Damn, and I spent a good amount of Oro for that there.”

He slumped down on the chair, drumming his fingers on his thigh. With no transport, it left them like sitting ducks. While he and Rowen were capable of combat, he didn’t know if Anastacia was ready to enter such a lifestyle. He turned to her, recalling the duel she had with the princess.

“Lass, did you ever learn how to fight?”

Anastacia blinked several times before shaking her head. “Not really...”

He gawked. “So who did all the fighting?”

The woman hung her head. “Erkalla did...”

“So, what did you do? Stare at the enemy?”

She answered his question with an awkward and ashamed silence, hanging her head. Marick sighed and shook his head. They were sitting in a bloodthirsty and living forest with a broken ship and non-combatant. He didn’t know much about Cicuta Forest and not even Rowen had a clear idea of how to escape. He unsheathed his gunblades, noticing how the whole blade hummed and glowed bright blue.

Great, even my gunblades hate it here.

“What do we do now?” Anastacia stood up, shivering. “The place scares me.”

“I’d fight my way out but” —Marick bit his lip— “even I’m not sure how vicious the enemies are here.”

Rowen shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

It was a daring venture. But what else could they do? Sitting in the middle of nowhere left them more open to attacks. Creatures could hide in the cracks and they could surround them without knowing. Marick nodded at Rowen.

“Did the forest tell you anything?”

Rowen shook his head. “Nothing useful.”

“But it said something?”

“It said it wants us for lunch.”

Marick groaned. “Great, at least we know where we stand in this forest.” He raised an eyebrow at Rowen. “Were you able to detect anything beyond the forest?”

Rowen grabbed more supplies, stashing them in his pouch. “No. Anything past 5 miles gets hazy.” He beamed back. “But I didn’t sense any monsters on the way.”

“That should give us time. Nothing alive?”

“Nope.”

Anastacia glanced at Marick, bewildered. “How would Rowen know that?”

Marick rolled his eyes. How could she not know? “Dryads communicate with plants. As long there’s a plant with long roots, he can detect things. Thought you read up on these things.”

He saw her shiver from the tone of his voice. Marick sighed. Although irritated with the situation, snapping at her would not make anything better. Staying in Cicuta Forest sent shivers down his spine and foretold him all the possible ways to die. But first thing was first: get out and find the nearest pirate outpost.

“I’m sorry for snapping. But the faster we leave here, the better.” Marick glanced back at the other supplies. “Go grab some bottles of water and food.”

Anastacia shook her head. “But your ship—”

“— She’s dead and this is her burial place.”

“Are you sure?”

His chest tightened at the thought. But what could he do? He didn’t know what the plants were like in Cicuta Forest. There were no tools and he wasn’t an engineer. The only one who knew how to build a ship was back in Hindenburg Port. She was a good ship, Marick thought.

“Yeah” —Marick sighed with a stiff nod— “Now let’s go.”

He walked out of the room with Rowen and Anastacia trailing behind him. His heart sank at the ruins and debris of the Stormcleaver. Every scratch and splinter reminded him of how many times he and Rowen escaped Death. But for once, he started to fear for his life. He gripped his swords tight and exhaled sharply.

I am nobody’s plant food.

While Anastacia packed away some supplies, a wave of questions flooded her mind. What kind of parent would want to replace their child? Most especially if their child is still alive! It didn't make sense unless they were killed her prior. But what did Princess Anastacia do that was so bad that her parents killed her and had her replaced? Most of all, did anyone in Sofiene know?

"Just how deep is this lie?" She thought.

She stopped for a moment when her hand grabbed a bottle of rum. Although she learned how to drink at gatherings, alcohol wasn't something she wanted to keep downing. Anastacia glanced up at Marick's back, wondering how much rum he actually drank. Sighing, she placed the bottle back before grabbing some bottled water instead.

"Lass, I heard ya put that back" — she froze at Marick reprimanding her — "bring it along."

Anastacia sighed and stashed the rum begrudgingly. "I need you sober and speaking straight sentences."

Marick shrugged.

She shook her head and brought along the bag. "Anything else?"

"I have enough. Not sure about you."

"What about me?"

"Can you survive on just water and the clothes on your back?"

Anastacia looked at the contents of the bag. While she never traveled light, a memory of Erkalla scolding her and demanding she abandon all her belongings flashed in her mind. You're not the princess of Sofiene, she said. Forget everything you know, she added. Her chest tightened in pain as Erkalla's words echoed in her mind.

"I'm not the Princess of Sofiene," Anastacia murmured under her breath. "I'm just Ana now."

She then brushed past Marick and left the room.

Although slightly taken aback by her lack of response, he understood. She had been told all her life that she was the princess of Sofiene; she was a bonafide member of the royal family. Only to find out that she was nothing more than a replacement upon returning home. He would have offered her comforting words. But how does one offer comfort when there's not enough information to separate fact from fiction?

"Will she be okay?" A small voice piped up.

Marick sighed and shook his head. "Only Time can tell, sprout."

Rowen nodded slowly. "Adults are mean," he remarked offhandedly.

He blinked.

"They lie. That's not nice."

It was a lot more complex than that, he knew. But a part of him wished that everything was just as simple and as straightforward as Rowan's thinking. It would have saved him the trip and stress from dealing with Cicuta Forest. But Marick could do nothing but nod at the dryad, walking past him.

"Yeah, and the worst part is: everybody lies."

When Anastacia stepped out of the ruined airship, she expected vicious monsters to wait for her outside. But there was no such fearful feeling. Instead, she felt calm. Her heart didn't pound nor did her chest throb. But it wasn't the kind of peace that allowed her to walk around carefree. It was as if a storm was about to hit soon.

She soon heard Marick's and Rowen's footsteps close in from behind her. "Shall we go?"

Marick chuckled. "Whenever you're ready, lass."

Anastacia smiled and turned to Rowen. "Did the forest tell you where to go?"

The dryad nodded slowly. "It gave me a vague idea but if we keep following the Sequoia Trees" — he pointed to the tall trees — "we should be able to leave."

Anastacia's eyes scanned the towering trees that appeared to blend with the rest of the foliage. She nodded at Rowen. "You lead the way."

Rowen happily skipped ahead to lead the way but it didn't soothe the unease that built inside her. They ventured deeper into the woods, abandoning the ruined Stormcleaver and a strong source of light behind them. Soon, the sun only formed small puddles of light to show them where they were going. A cold wind suddenly brushed past her, causing her to shiver and yelp.

"Rowen, are you sure we're going the right way?" Anastacia quickly rubbed her forearms. "I don't think a forest is supposed to be this cold."

The dryad nodded. "I saw a source of light from this direction."

Marick raised an eyebrow. "You sure it was a way out?"

"I'm sure!"

While she wanted to believe him, there was something inside her that told her not to. It was as if a cold blade was pressed against her nape and each step she took added pressure. Anastacia shook her head. The dread continued to build up. "I don't know. There's something here and I don't like it."

Growling, Marick drew his gunblades. "You're not the only one, lass."

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