The horse shifts beneath us, adjusting to our combined weight, hooves stirring dust along the path. The wind catches at the edges of my gown and lifts stray strands of hair, making them flutter around my shoulders. He maintains his posture, guiding the horse with practiced ease, and I mirror his movements as best I can, leaning slightly with each step, the rhythm of the horse carrying us forward.

The path stretches ahead, dust rising and leaves rustling, and for a moment the world narrows to the careful coordination of horse, rider, and passenger, each step measured, precise, and deliberate.

The sky bleeds into dawn, and I flinch at the animal noises tearing through the forest—predators or prey? Birds call overhead, but I can’t tell if they’re singing or warning. The horse thunders forward, each hoof beat jarring my spine, and the wind slaps my face raw. I want my thoughts to flow away with it, but they cling like burrs. I close my eyes anyway, trying to convince myself this fresh forest air means peace, not danger.

It’s been… too long since I’ve relaxed, if this counts as relaxation.

My muscles remain tense, my mind alert. Always running, always behind. This moment of false peace feels like the deceptive calm before a hurricane.

The horse lurches forward making me griping Ethan tighter than necessary, my fingers probably digging into him. And yet, He remains silent, focuses on the ride, while keeps answering my questions with clipped words that reveal nothing.

We break from the forest onto the moor, and I look back at those dark trees. They terrify me, yet who would know …. hidden inside are moments of unexpected beauty you would be in awe. The open moor should feel like freedom, but the exposure makes my skin crawl. The vast sky presses down, ancient and indifferent.

Under this same sky, others are living their lives—some in joy, some in pain. The sky watches it all without judgment or mercy, providing space for everyone to exist but protection for none…what is the point of being borne anyway?

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed when Ethan’s voice cut through the silence.

“You seem quiet. Are you alright? Or are you still scared?” He asks me.

I stare at one of my hand. “I don’t know ….. Is there a place where I truly belong?”

“Everyone belongs somewhere,” he says with a hollow laugh. “Whether that place is good or bad—that’s the real question.”

“And then where do you belong?” I ask, watching his head from the behind carefully.

His brushes it off. “Nowhere. No one.” Then he shrug as if it didn’t matter.

hmmm…..

My chest tightens. I understand that emptiness, yet resented his casual acceptance of it.

“But you have your master, don’t you,” I ask him back, feeling curious yet concerned.

“I work for him,” Ethan responded in a low tone. “It’s different… you know, lady”

“Aww, Do you have family then ?” I press, curiosity hits its peak.

Everyone always has some kind of relatives. But ….. I feel bad for him.

Silence stretches between us before he answers, “Don’t worry lady, you think too much, You have family waiting for you.” He laughs freely out of sudden. But I know, he may be trying to avoid deep question that may hits his hidden emotion.

“I fear …. That would be impossible,” I whisper, wanting to believe him yet afraid to hope—

I have never been in this situation before …This body feels like mine—the weight of it, the way it moves at my command—and yet it still remains a stranger to me, …… a vessel with its own destiny that I cannot fathom, cannot control, cannot accept as truly mine.

“Nah, Athene… You’ve lost your memories,” he insists.

You just don’t understand… but how can these memories belong to me when my soul has never experienced them before? It’s like I’m two people fighting inside one mind.

I remain silent, my mouth opening then closing again. Part of me wants to nod, to let him believe I agree, while another part screams to confess everything. I could try explaining, but how? The words tangle in my throat. I barely understand this myself—this body that isn’t mine, this life I’ve stolen. My fingers twitch with the urge to grab his arm, to whisper the truth: I am not Athene. But then what? Would he believe me or think me mad? No one has told me to keep quiet. Yet something primal, something buried deep in borrowed bones, warns me to maintain this charade.

“Come now, stop thinking too much, Lady.” His voice wavers between command and plea. “Master would not be happy to see you—” He pauses, swallows.

“Though perhaps he deserves your worry.” His eyes dart to mine, then away.

“It’s a long way. Rest your head on my back, you know ….. and I get nothing for kidnapping you anyway,” he adds with a hollow laugh that dies in his throat, leaving only the sound of hoofbeats beneath us.

I know he is trying to reassure me in his own unhinged way. I don’t sense danger, but shouldn’t I? This man could kill me, yet I feel nothing. What’s wrong with me? Maybe there’s nothing left worth taking—not even this life I’m not sure belongs to me anyway.

My eyelids drag downward while my mind races upward. Sleep beckons like a promise of peace, but what if he does something terrible while I’m unconscious? What if this exhaustion is exactly what he’s counting on? I should stay awake, should plan, should run—but my limbs feel weighted with concrete. Sleep feels like surrender, yet also like the only escape I have left.

“Sleep well, Athene.” His voice floats through me like moonlight on water, rippling into the darkest corners where thoughts dissolve into my dreams.