Chapter 5: The Awakening
**Thelma Zane’s POV**
A searing pain throbbed in my head, pulling me out of unconsciousness. I tried to open my eyes, but the effort was futile. All I could see was an oppressive black void. Panic began to creep in, the sensation of helplessness wrapping itself tightly around me.
Had I hit my head against the jagged rocks at the base of the cliff? Perhaps that was it. Perhaps the fall had left me blinded. The thought lingered, conjuring images of Benard’s mocking expression if he saw me like this–broken and pathetic.
As I lay still, I became faintly aware of muffled voices around me. They swirled together, incomprehensible snippets of urgency: “She’s awake!” and “Inform the others!” The noise grew louder, pressing against my already pounding head.
“Quiet!” I croaked, my voice hoarse but commanding enough to silence the commotion.
The abrupt stillness was a small comfort, and I slipped back into unconsciousness, exhaustion overtaking me.
When I awoke again, the pain was still there, a dull ache in every part of my body. This time, however, the murmur of voices returned, though less harsh and somehow soothing. They carried a rhythmic cadence that might have been beautiful if my body weren’t screaming in
agony.
My head throbbed as if a hammer had struck it repeatedly, and my limbs felt as though they had been ripped apart and reassembled by unskilled hands. For a moment, I wondered if my already questionable intelligence had been permanently damaged in the fall.
“Why can’t I see?” I managed to ask, my voice cracking under the strain.
A calm, authoritative voice replied, “It’s alright Your Highness. You hit your head when you fell. Your vision is temporarily affected, but it should return soon.”
Your Highness?
The title made no sense to me. Who were these people, and where was I? The confusion only deepened the pain in my head, adding to the chaos of my thoughts.
Memories of the night came flooding back–the roaring bonfire, ‘Benard’s cold and unfeeling rejection, and the icy river that had swallowed me whole after my desperate leap. I had expected to die, to escape the unbearable weight of my failure and inadequacy. Yet here I was, alive and surrounded by strangers who spoke of me as if I were someone important.
I blinked repeatedly, but the darkness remained.
How had I survived? I remembered the rush of freezing water, the sharp impact of my body against jagged rocks. Surely, I should have drowned, broken and forgotten.
Chooter 5 The Awakening
But no, these people had found me, though I couldn’t fathom why anyone would go to such lengths to save someone as worthless as me.
A sharp pang of self–loathing welled up within me. I had failed in life, and now, I had even failed in death.
The pain in my head surged, as if punishing me for my thoughts. I groaned, clutching my head. in a vain attempt to dull the sensation.
A cool hand rested on my forehead, and a soothing voice whispered, “Sleep. Rest for now. You need to heal.”
In that fragile moment, the gentle words offered a strange comfort. Weak and drained, I allowed the calm to lull me back into unconsciousness.
When I woke again, my surroundings had changed. A warm, golden light filtered through the darkness, faint but steady. For a fleeting moment, I feared it was an illusion, that my vision was teasing me with false hope.
1 blinked rapidly, willing the light to grow clearer, and to my relief, my sight gradually sharpened. The pain in my head remained, but it no longer drowned out my thoughts.
The room around me was unfamiliar, elegantly adorned with furnishings that exuded wealth and status. The soft light came from a lamp beside the bed I was lying on. I turned my head slightly, and my gaze fell on a group of people standing nearby.
They were dressed in pristine white garments that fit them impeccably. At the center of the group stood a young woman with long brown hair pinned neatly atop her head. Her rosy cheeks and kind smile gave her a regal air, and the others seemed to orbit her as if she were
their leader.
“Your Highness, you’re finally awake,” she said, her voice bright but tinged with emotion. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
The words sent a jolt of confusion through me. *Your Highness?* What was she talking about?
My mind raced as I tried to make sense of the situation. After throwing myself off that cliff, I had expected nothing but the void of death. Instead, I was here, alive and being addressed with a title that didn’t belong to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said hesitantly, my voice shaky. I think you’ve made a mistake. I’m not who you think I am.”
The woman’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew softer, as if she had anticipated my denial.
“There’s no mistake,” she assured me. “You are our princess. We almost lost you, but the
Chapters. The Awakening.
Moon Plessed
us and allowed us to find you in time.”
Princess? Moon Goddess? Her words made no sense. My head spun, and the lingering pain clouded my ability to process what she was saying.
Your
Another voice chimed in, belonging to a maid with striking black hair. “It’s true Highness. The Moon Goddess has watched over you. We are all grateful you survived.”
I felt as though I were slipping into a waking dream, caught between reality and some elaborate fantasy. None of this added up. The memories of my fall were too vivid, too raw to ignore.
The cold wind, the rush of water, the jagged rocks–those were real. How could I possibly be sitting here now, alive and surrounded by people who claimed I was royalty?
I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t understand. What is this place? Who are you people?”
The woman with the brown hair stepped closer, her expression calm but resolute. “You are safe, Your Highness. That is all that matters for now. Rest, and in time, everything will be- explained.”
Her words were meant to reassure me, but they only deepened my unease. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had somehow stepped into a world I didn’t belong to, a world that had mistaken me for someone else.
The pain in my head flared again, cutting through my thoughts like a blade. I winced, pressing my palms to my temples as the dizziness returned.
“Please,” the woman said softly, “don’t strain yourself. You’ve been through so much already.”
As much as I wanted answers, my body betrayed me. The exhaustion was too great, and the soothing tone of her voice made it impossible to resist.
For now, I would rest. But deep down, I knew this was only the beginning. Whatever this strange new reality was, it held questions I wasn’t sure I wanted answered.
Chaut The Truth of Blood
