Knowledge Is Power: The Last Reader

Running away was not going to be easy.

Aria—no, Guinevere now, she had to remember that—paced the confines of her tent, her mind racing as fast as her heart. The problem was her new body. It was weak. Pathetically weak. She’d managed to build up some strength during her training with the King, but this body was soft, unused to exertion, the body of a noblewoman who’d spent her life being waited on hand and foot.

Stupid, she thought bitterly. Stupid, useless, pampered body.

But the good thing—the only good thing—was that other than the guards posted outside her tent to "protect" her, there wasn’t much keeping her here. Her brother Vise had already left to annoy her future husband about their deal, no doubt trying to squeeze every last drop of advantage from the arrangement.

She made up her mind.

First: clothes. Something that could help her run. Under her dress, she would wear something light and run-friendly, nothing that would slow her down. No corsets, no heavy skirts, no ridiculous layers of silk that would catch on every branch and rock.

Second: the relics. The three crystal orbs. She needed them. Whatever power they held, whatever potential they contained, she would need it to survive whatever came next.

She found a set of practical traveling clothes in one of the chests—simple wool trousers, a linen shirt, sturdy boots. She pulled them on beneath her dress, adjusting the fabric until nothing showed. The dress itself was heavy, cumbersome, but she could deal with that for now.

Third: a distraction.

She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and screamed.

---

The guards came running.

They burst through the tent flap, their faces flushed with alarm, their hands on their weapons. Barbarians. Not very bright, as she’d suspected. They looked around wildly, searching for the threat.

"Someone!" Aria cried, pointing toward the back of the tent. "Someone came through the wall! They tried to kill me! They went that way!"

She pointed in the opposite direction of the main camp, away from where the guards were stationed, away from anyone who might raise the alarm.

The guards didn’t hesitate. They charged through the tent wall—literally through it, ripping through the fabric with their bulk and momentum—and disappeared into the night, running toward nowhere.

Aria stared after them, momentarily stunned.

They actually did it, she thought. They actually just ran through a wall. That’s... that’s amazing. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.

She didn’t waste time being impressed. She tore off the heavy dress, revealing the practical clothes beneath, and slipped out of the tent through the hole the guards had made.

Freedom.

Well. Sort of.

---

The camp was massive—a sprawling sea of tents and fires and sleeping bodies. Aria moved through the shadows, her heart pounding, her eyes scanning for any sign of pursuit. She had to get to the gifts. The relics. The three crystal orbs that had been presented to her on her wedding night.

She found them in a smaller tent, set apart from the others, guarded by a single sleeping guard who was clearly not taking his duties seriously. Aria crept past him, her movements silent, her breath held.

The orbs were sitting on a velvet cushion, just as she remembered. Dull. Lifeless. Waiting.

She reached out and touched the first one.

And the light came.

---

It wasn’t the blinding radiance she’d seen in Guinevere’s memory. It was softer, gentler, a warm glow that seemed to seep into her skin and settle somewhere deep in her chest. She felt something shift inside her—a clarity she’d never experienced before, a sense of understanding that seemed to expand beyond the boundaries of her own mind.

Enlightenment and Wisdom, a voice whispered in her mind. A mind freed from earthly delusion.

She touched the second orb, and a wing of light materialized on her right shoulder—ethereal, translucent, beautiful.

Transcendence and Freedom. The ability to transcend the physical realm.

The third orb gave her the left wing, matching the first, and together they pulsed with a gentle, steady light that made her feel lighter, stronger, more alive.

She barely felt smarter. And the wings barely gave her the power of flight—not really, not yet. But they gave her something else. Something she needed right now.

They gave her the ability to jump.

---

The canyon loomed ahead of her—a vast, impossible chasm that stretched across the landscape like a wound in the earth. The walls were sheer, the bottom lost in shadow, and the only way across was a treacherous series of rock formations that seemed to mock anyone foolish enough to try.

Nobody would follow her here. Nobody would think to. It was impossible to cross without some kind of floating ability.

But the wings didn’t just help her float. They helped her jump. Really, really well.

Aria took a running start, felt the wings pulse against her back, and launched herself into the air. The wind rushed past her face, the canyon walls blurred beneath her, and for one terrifying, exhilarating moment, she was flying.

She landed on the first rock formation, stumbled, caught herself. The wings flickered, weakened, but held. She pushed off again, soaring across the gap, landing on the next outcrop with barely enough room to stand.

The jumps were getting harder. The wings were fading. But she kept going, kept pushing, kept believing that she could make it.

And then, finally, she did.

She collapsed on the far side of the canyon, gasping for breath, her body shaking with exhaustion. She’d made it. She was alive. She was free.

She looked back at the camp, at the tiny figures moving in the distance, at the life she’d left behind.

Worth it, she thought. Every single second of it was worth it.

---

The other problem was the monsters.

She’d been so focused on escaping that she’d forgotten—or rather, she’d chosen to forget—why nobody thought she’d run this way. The canyon was a natural barrier, yes. But it was also the hunting ground of things that had no business existing in the mortal world.

A zombie attacked her before she’d even finished catching her breath.

It lurched out of the shadows, its skin gray and peeling, its eyes empty and hungry. Aria scrambled backward, her heart in her throat, and for one terrible moment, she thought it was over.

But then the light came.

It erupted from her chest, from the orbs, from somewhere deep inside her that she hadn’t even known existed. It washed over the zombie in a wave of pure, blinding radiance, and the creature screamed—a horrible, inhuman sound that seemed to echo through the canyon.

The light weakened it. Slowed it. Made it vulnerable.

Aria grabbed the nearest rock—a heavy, jagged stone—and brought it down on the zombie’s head with all her strength.

Crack.

The creature crumpled.

Aria stood over it, breathing hard, her hands shaking from exhaustion.

For a moment, she simply stared at the corpse.

Then—

Ding.

Aria’s eyes widened.

A familiar translucent window appeared before her.

[You have defeated a creature.]

[Calculating rewards...]

Aria immediately leaned forward.

"Come on..."

The corpse began to dissolve.

Dark particles peeled away from the creature, drifting upward before gathering into a small, glowing mass.

Aria’s heart skipped.

A drop.

She hadn’t seen one in what felt like forever.

The glowing mass condensed.

Then fell.

Clink.

Something hit the stone floor.

Aria froze.

She slowly approached it.

A knife lay among the remains of the creature.

Old.

Rusty.

The blade was chipped in places, and the handle looked like it had been through several decades of abuse.

It was beautiful.

At least, to Aria it was.

She picked it up with both hands.

"A weapon..."

She turned it over.

It wasn’t much.

Actually, it was terrible.

But terrible was infinitely better than nothing.

The system window appeared again.

[Item Acquired: Rusted Iron Knife]

[Quality: Common]

[A neglected blade that has survived far longer than it should have. Its edge is still sharp enough to be useful.]

Aria stared at the description.

Then at the knife.

Then back at the description.

A tiny smile appeared on her face.

"Common?"

She tested the blade against her thumb without cutting herself.

"It’s beautiful."

She hadn’t gotten a drop like this in a long time. Not since—

She stopped herself. She couldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t think about the old life, the old world, the old Aria who’d been so sure of everything.

She was Guinevere now. And Guinevere had a mission.

---

She looked back at the canyon, at the camp, at the life she’d left behind. She thought about everything she’d lost, everything she’d risked, everything she’d sacrificed to get here.

She needed an army. She needed to unite the kingdoms. She needed to prepare for the monster waves that would destroy everything if nobody stopped them.

But she’d lost her way to any political power. Her brother had arranged the marriage. Her family had been exiled. She had nothing—no allies, no resources, no support.

Worth it, she thought again. Even if it means starting from nothing. Even if it means fighting alone. It’s worth it.

She didn’t want to be owned. Not by a dirty barbarian. Not by her brother. Not by anyone.

She wanted to be free.

And sometimes, freedom meant starting over.

---

Aria—Guinevere—looked up at the sky, at the stars that were just beginning to emerge in the fading light. She thought about the King, about Sting.... and of course Milo, about all the people she’d left behind.

I hope they’re okay, she thought. I hope they’re not too worried about me.

She smiled, a small, weary smile.

And I hope they’re having as much fun as I am.

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