I wake up startled in my dungeon floor bed. An unease in my stomach. I feel depressed at my own thoughts. Not long ago, I’d always sleep on a warm bed and my world was just perfect. Now in the eyes of the same people that used to greet me in the streets, I am a filthy harlot that dared open her legs to a monster in exchange for her life. And right now I wish that I had actually done so.

A pure maiden that has neither desire nor curiosity for the thing called sex, it doesn’t exist. I’m not one, and I know for sure that Marcy is not either. I won’t admit it to anyone though.

I try to find out what startled me. One of my familiars died. Which one? All the ones in town are just fine, going about on their rat-turned-spy business. All that is left are the ones following my family or Marcy. I dread for either one of them. Extending my feelings, it comes out as inconclusive. I cannot discern which one is the dead and which is alive.

I’m sorry for using your life like that, my dear friend. We shared the same dungeon, we shared the same bowl of tasteless gruel. I’m losing myself. I’m a rat. But it is too late for me to descend into madness. I have a goal. My unwavering will won’t let me drop dead before I have seen it through.

Can a person change this much in such a short time? Have I changed at all? I feel nothing different. Was this hatred seething inside me always there? When I was bullied as a child, was it the same?

Wheat girl.

Winter child.

Weak.

Feeble.

Smallest in my generation.

A burden to my parents.

Phthisical girl.

I cannot die in this cesspool. I have to see Grendel once again. And ask him this question that burns my throat. The one I was too afraid to ask. This one that has tons of meanings.

I won’t stand still. One familiar is dead already, a life has been sacrificed for my sake. If it is the one with my parents, It means my debt to father can never be repaid. He wasted a small fortune in medicine and cures when I was a consumptive child. My lungs still now can’t do the same as any other girl my age. If it is Marcy, I’ve lost my one true friend. Because she was worried about me, she couldn’t throw away these shackles around her.

There are quite a lot of people moving for my sake, isn’t it? Even in this dark damp dungeon, I’m not alone.

My strength is returning. Alvus is giving me a fake extract since his visit with Ms. Mercy. He thanked me for blooming his garden. If we make it, I’ll give you all the herbs in the world, my friend.

Tears come to me. So I am still able to cry. My belly hurts. It is not hunger. The rats now bring food they steal in the city to me. Meat. Bread. Small Fruit. They are way smarter than an ordinary rat now. Instead of feeding them, it is they feeding me. They also brought me one special treasure. A monster’s core.

For everyone’s sake. For my own selfish desires. I’ll make my move tonight. I cannot let another death happen because of me. Be it human, animal or monster.

I call upon the father rat, the strongest one. “Emory, come to me. It is time to release me from these shackles.”

Emory scuttles from his hole where he is always on guard. Skillfully, he climbs on my arms then on my legs, and pushes the already open pin out of my shackles. I massage my now free limbs, and apply a healing spell to remove the bruises. My body feels hot.

I stand up in the cell, and turn my back to the door. I’m going through this wall here. Everything is already set on the other side. All that is left is to remove the bricks.

Since the day I was able to use magic again, I have been using [Plant Magic] to enhance the moss on these dungeon walls. Its roots already ate all the plaster between those bricks. Now all that is left is to remove the bricks.

I pour MP into the moss. Strengthening so it can lift the bricks. The moss glows, its magic infused fibers begin moving. They envelop and grasp the bricks, and turn two rows of them outside like a double door. Slowly, to avoid any grinding sounds leaving the dungeon. I’m not in a hurry.

Behind the brick wall, a tunnel. Using the roots of the tree above and [Earth Magic] through the eyes of my rat familiars, I’ve dug a tunnel leading to the underside of the tree in the garrison’s courtyard. It is hollow inside, and a small girl can fit inside just fine. I’ll trade this prison for one of my choosing.

Looking behind, the only regret I leave in this stockade cell is deceiving Alvus. I promised not to leave the garrison until the equinox. I never said I’d stay in that cell.

I climb into the tunnel made of dirt and roots, and command the moss to move the bricks back into place. Now I send my senses deep into the earth. Not far from here, there is a big boulder buried. I invoke my druid powers:

“As you accept this blood to nurture you, be sure to heed my will. Move that which is hidden in your boson to block the path of my pursuers.”

The Earth rumbles. Shakes. Dirt falls in my face. As a bowel moving food inside the body, the earth in front of it moves backwards and pushes the boulder up. The rumbling continues, getting stronger as the boulder moves closer to me. Finally, it rises inside the tunnel, resting between me and the brick wall. All the remaining MP was spent moving that boulder, but they won’t be able to tell where I fled to. Moving that boulder is a feat that mere [Earth Magic] could not accomplish.

Exhausted, I climb the tunnel into the tree hollow. There is only enough space to sit down or stand still, but it is better than the cell. I can hear the sounds of guards running inside the stockades building. It is only a matter of time till the alarm bell rings.

Dread you bastards. The monster bride has escaped. I look through a peephole in the tree trunk. Soldiers are running to the officer’s barracks to deliver the terrible news. I refrain to laugh.

Then the most wonderful scene comes to pass in front of me. A sunrise. The thing people dread the most is not pain. It is being denied the most basic things.

They will bring some people with [Presence Detection] I’m sure of it. This is why I will put magic power in this tree until it almost becomes a monster, to mask my presence inside it. And now I feel safe enough to sleep.

It is already night when I wake up. The equinox is in two days. I eat some breadcrumbs and fruit the rats brought to me. Water I can conjure myself. I ask Emory to climb the tree, and take a look at the garrison. The amount of soldiers on guard duty are tripled. I think it will remain this way until after the equinox. But so is the guarantee I won’t be killed on sight by them. I need to think a plan to get out of this tree and out of the city.

And to get out I need to have more than just a prisoner’s rag tunic on me. I want a bath. I want a frilly dress. With lace. And to wear this dress while traveling the world sitting on Grendel’s shoulder.

The only thing I have now is MP and my will to see things done. Emory senses my loneliness, and cuddles on my lap. I pet him between his little rat ears.

“I have a job for you, Emory, can you do it for me?”

“Squeak!”

I mold the wood of the tree, and shape it like a small plaque. Shifting my senses to Emory I use his teeth to write a small message. Then I tie the plaque on Emory’s back using the bow ribbon, and send him off.

Emory stealthily crosses the town streets and goes to Marcy’s home. She might be in bed by this time, but since it is summer, some windows are left open. Emory has no difficulty in getting inside, and goes to Ms. Mercy’s room. She is already asleep. Summer nights are too short, people usually sleep as soon as the sun sets.

“Squeak!!!”

“Snore.”

“Squeak! Squeeeak!”

“Snooooooore.”

Emory finally gives up on squeaking, and nibbles on Ms. Mercy. She wakes up, and screams.

“Ahhhhhh!!! What is this, a rat!!?!?!”

Emory stands up and introduces himself like a gentleman. A paw to the back, a paw on the belly, and bow.

Ms. Mercy is puzzled, but is not agitated.

“Why is a rat wearing a ribbon greeting me on my own bed?”

Emory turns around and shows the message slab.

“Dear Ms. Mercy: I left the stockades. Need clothes and coin. Marcy has it in her room. Pack the smallest dress and coins, and give to this rat to carry. Helen.”

I’m taking a big risk here. If Ms. Mercy tattles on me, Emory and his children will be hunted. I won’t be able to have them going to and from this tree anymore.

Despite my worries, Ms. Mercy gets down, puts on a gown and goes to Marcy’s room. She takes an old dress that is probably too small for Marcy, and two silver coins from her drawer. Then she waves for Emory, and unties his bow and makes a package wrapping the folded dress in a rag and tying with the bow.

“Here, Mr. rat. Take this to Helen, and best of luck to her.”

Emory takes the package to me with the help of two of his children. It took too long, but the streets at night are almost empty. It was a good thing to expand the rat tunnel network beneath the garrison.

And I finally get out of the prisoner rags. I’d burn the damn thing If I was not inside a tree. But Emory has a liking for it, so it has become its bedding. Back to sleep. Good night, Emory.

Morning. I have as much things to do in this tree trunk than I had in the cell. There is sunlight outside, but I won’t open a hole big enough for it to shine inside.

This is the day of the equinox. If I can make it until midnight, I can leave.

One of the rats posted at the gate warns me. Marcy and Cloude are returning. I have to act.