Chapter 2 – The Last Breath of Saren

The night air was cold enough to bite. Saren’s thin shawl clung to her shoulders, its frayed edges trembling in the breeze. Her bare toes curled into the dry dirt as she tried to hold in the warmth of her body. She stared at the stars, letting her mind drift to far-off lands—places where bread was soft, where water didn’t taste of rust, where people looked at her without scorn.

A twig snapped.

She stiffened. The sound came from behind, faint yet distinct against the quiet of the night. She turned her head slightly, eyes scanning the dim outline of the path. No one should be out here at this hour—most in the village were long asleep.

Another sound—boots brushing against loose soil.

Her heart quickened. She rose slowly, brushing dirt from her dress. “Who’s there?” she called, her voice small but steady.

Silence answered her. The moonlight pooled across the path, revealing nothing but the outline of the grain sheds in the distance. She sighed, thinking she had imagined it. But when she turned back toward her small home, laughter—low, mocking—broke the stillness.

From the shadows emerged Lira, the miller’s daughter, flanked by two others. The same three who had tormented her that morning.

“Well, look at this,” Lira said, stepping closer. “The little stray thinks she owns the night.”

Saren took a step back. “I don’t want trouble.”

“Oh, but trouble wants you.” Lira’s tone dripped with amusement. One of the girls shoved Saren’s shoulder, making her stumble. “Still weak as ever.”

They circled her like wolves. She knew she should run, but her legs felt rooted to the spot.

“I heard your father’s worse,” Lira said casually, almost smiling. “Maybe if you were worth anything, you could afford the medicine he needs.”

Saren’s lips trembled. “Stop…”

“Or what? You’ll cry?” Lira’s hand shot out, grabbing the shawl from Saren’s shoulders and tossing it into the dirt. “Pathetic.”

The first shove was hard enough to make her knees buckle. She tried to right herself, but another push sent her staggering into the grain shed wall. Pain shot up her arm.

One of the girls picked up a rock. “Bet she’d run if we really scared her.”

“Do it,” Lira said.

The first stone struck her back. The second hit her ribs. She gasped, the air knocked from her lungs.

And then Lira stepped forward, gripping a jagged piece of broken pottery from the ground. “Run, Saren,” she said, her voice cold. “If you can.”

Saren turned, but the blow came fast—a sharp stab to her side. Fire exploded in her stomach, the world lurching sideways. She fell to her knees, clutching the wound, warm blood seeping between her fingers.

The laughter stopped. For a moment, there was only the sound of her own ragged breathing.

Then the girls ran—footsteps fading into the night, leaving her alone.

Her vision blurred. The stars above smeared into streaks of silver as she sank onto her side. Each breath was shallower than the last. The cold earth pressed against her cheek, and the scent of distant rain drifted on the wind.

Her last thought was a wish—just one more chance, somewhere else, to live without being hunted by cruelty.

And then—nothing.

---

Somewhere else, far from the dusty village…

A woman sat hunched over a desk, surrounded by stacks of reports and maps. Her sharp eyes scanned the parchment in front of her, filled with data on soil acidity, crop yields, and irrigation patterns. Her name was Elena Reyes—an agricultural and fisheries expert whose life revolved around fixing what others thought was beyond saving.

But on this night, her world ended in an instant. A sudden pain tore through her chest, white-hot and blinding. She gasped, clutching at her shirt, papers scattering to the floor. She couldn’t breathe—the air felt thick, her vision tunneling.

Before she could cry for help, her chair tipped backward. Her body hit the floor, the ceiling lights above fracturing into shards of color. The pounding of her heart slowed… and then stopped.

Everything went black.

Then—light.

Elena’s eyes flew open, but she was no longer in her office. A heavy weight pressed on her chest, and the ground beneath her was rough, cold… and wet. She smelled dirt and iron, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Her limbs were weak, trembling.

When she looked down, she saw small, thin hands stained red. The wound in her stomach throbbed sharply—and the realization hit her like thunder.

She wasn’t in her own body anymore.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***