The Wolf’s Daughter

Phaedra didn’t dare move, mostly because everything hurt too much to move. She was covered in blood and she couldn’t even move her right arm. It was times like this she was incredibly grateful that demons were so much more durable than humans, she likely would have passed out from blood loss by now if she were still human.

It seemed the bleeding had stopped as well. It still hurt, though. Slowly she opened her eyes.

All she could see was darkness through her wool. All she could smell was blood. All she could hear were rustling branches and leaves from her fall. All she could feel was pain. Phaedra hadn’t felt this helpless in ages.

Slowly, she started to take count of her resources. Her right arm was useless. It might heal on its own, but that would likely take ages. She could use magic to try and rush it, but with all the blood she lost she was suspecting she was going to feel very, very tired soon and the last thing she needed was to pass out because she over exerted herself. She supposed slashing the arm off was an option, but not one she liked doing. It required so, so, SO much more magic to regrow a limb than to fix it.

The fact she thought that gave her a moment of pause before she sighed. “Gibs, you might have been a bit too intense in your training at times,” Phaedra muttered softly. She was alive. Down an arm. Hooves and other hand were fine. The thick trees the shadows thick, but she could normally see decently well in dim light.

The biggest issue was where she was. She’d been in these trees before and they could be incredibly hostile if you behaved the wrong way to them.

Phaedra began to gingerly retract her wool. It was nearly to her when she felt something sharp poking her. She stopped before making a small orb of light to get a slightly better view.

Thorns. Everywhere. Not small ones, either. Some of them were nearly a foot long. Intermixed throughout her wool and coiled around her. She was going to have to try and disentangle herself while also--

There was a light snapping below her before, once again, she was plummeting to the ground. She hit the ground after far too many twists, her wool managing to dampen the force slightly, but it still sent ripples of pain through her body. She laid there for a few moments, panting with exertion, before giving a soft little whimper.

A lot of things hurt right now.

Phaedra tried to pull in her wool again, but there were even more thorns and bushes enveloped in it. There was only one thing she could do. Magic. She closed her eyes and focused, fire and wind erupting out from her body, tearing the thorns from her and burning her wool slightly. It only lasted a few moments, but even that small bit of magic felt incredibly exhausting.

Phaedra slowly pulled her wool in and took a small step forward. The light she’d made flickered out and she let out a low, pathetic groan. Too much of her hurt. Worse, she wanted nothing more than to just collapse on the ground and sleep for the next month.

That would be suicide. Even in a normal forest it might be suicide. But she knew there were vicious, terrifying monsters in this forest, things that would tear apart anything they thought was an easy meal. With her wounds she was almost the definition of easy meal.

Phaedra had to get above the treeline. Find a way to get help. More importantly, she had to make sure the others were okay. They…

…

They were an experienced crew and three incredibly powerful demons. They would be fine. At least, that was what she told herself. She, on the other hand, had one incredibly wounded arm, lost a lot of blood and could barely keep her spells going. She was also trapped in the forest. Worse, or possibly better, she didn’t know which direction was which. A part of her hoped that her airship would crash down from above, but she knew that was unlikely. It wouldn’t mean they could help her, either.

But maybe they could send something. She leaned back against one of the trees and looked up, just waiting for a moment. Just in case something happened.

------

Phaedra jerked, lifting her head. How long had she been there? Had she dozed off? No. Yes. Maybe? It couldn’t have been too long, could it?

She at least knew it wasn’t night, but that didn’t really help much. She couldn’t see her airship from here, either. But at least no other bodies had dropped down. Or if they had, they weren’t nearby.

She wondered if she should feel ashamed for being the only one knocked off the ship. Probably. She didn’t want to, though. It--

Pain shot through her ankle and she snarled before yanking it free. A thorny tendril had wrapped around it and she didn’t even have to look to know there was more blood. A thick thorn was lodged in, forcing her to reach down and tear it out. She then started walking, clutching her wounded arm close.

She had to get out of the trees, somewhere she could see better. More visibility. Clearings. These woods were dangerous. There were a dozen different animals that could attack her and twice as many plants that could eat her if she let her guard down.

She tried to think about the last time she was here. When she’d been human. When she’d had Atlas.

------

“Please, careful, Medon,” Atlas said, her hand reaching up to, very gently, pluck the thorns from his arm. “The poison won’t be fatal, but that doesn’t mean it won’t slow you down if you end up with too many of these.”

“Sorry,” Medon said softly, his face burning with shame. “I thought I saw a… it doesn’t matter what I saw.”

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” Atlas said in a soft, soothing tone.

Medon blushed as he watched Atlas work. It truly was the strangest feeling sometimes, the woman looked more like a wooden statue given life than a human at times, yet no matter how rough her hands looked, they were as soft as the gentlest leaves. Her movements were experienced, but so gentle he couldn’t help but go entirely still so she could work without trouble.

“I thought I saw a unicorn,” Medon said softly, his cheeks going brighter red.

“Oh?” Atlas said. It was amazing how she said it, though. There was no judgment to her tone. She sounded so calm and relaxed, as if it was perfectly normal and acceptable for him to be an idiot and go running into a giant patch of poisoned, grasping vines because he was chasing a unicorn that may or may not exist.

“I know, it’s silly,” Medon said. “I don’t know why I did it, but when I—” He went silent when she put a finger to his lips. “Huh?”

“Please, stop wounding yourself,” Atlas said in a gentle tone. “You need not preface every sentence you say by demeaning yourself. If it was important to you, then that doesn’t innately make it ‘silly’. There are unicorns in these woods, though they are rare.”

Medon blinked and nodded. She just had a way of making him not feel as ridiculous as he felt he was. “There… are? I’ve ummmm… never seen one. We don’t have them in my world.”

“If we are fortunate, we will see some while you are here. However, if we don’t?” Atlas said. “Once the world is saved, I promise. We will find some, together. Perhaps you may even ride one, if you are lucky.”

Medon chuckled and shook his head. “I’d never want that. I’d just like to pet one, I think.” Still, he didn’t dare say the real reason he wanted to see one. There were so many myths about unicorns only appearing before pure-hearted maidens. It had been such a silly notion to have in that moment, but he had never wanted anything at that moment more than just a little confirmation that who he was on the inside was still… who she had been fighting to be.

“That can be arranged,” Atlas said softly. “But these woods are dangerous. You must stay on the paths where you can. More importantly, you must avoid the taller bushes. The grasping tendrils can be dangerous if too many of them latch on.”

“I know,” Medon said softly. “Their poison can knock you out if too many attack at once, right?”

“Not quite,” Atlas said. “It’ll paralyze you. Not the best thing to be in these woods. I can heal you so you don’t suffer the consequences, but it’s still dangerous. Just, please. Stick to the paths. Though, it is admittedly not that dangerous. Even if something did happen to you, there are enough patrols that someone would hopefully find you before anything worse found you. If you come to a clearing, we often have little stations hidden in the trees near them, they often have medicine, food and a way to contact help. I’ll show you how to locate supplies when we come to one.”

------

Phaedra panted lightly as she slowly walked through the woods, still clutching her arm. While she didn’t see any paths yet, she at least had a goal. She supposed, in a way, she should be thankful. She had all of the advantages of being a demon with all of the advantages of knowing just how to navigate these woods.

Unfortunately, she also had all of the disadvantages of being a demon.

She just hoped she could find one of those clearings and stations before said disadvantages started to rear their head. As a demon, she was incredibly durable. Though, to be fair, most species in this world seemed to be. Back when she was human, things like scars, crippled limbs, all of those were often fatal.

The creatures of this world had the advantage that, given enough time, almost any injury would heal. Her favorite part of that was her teeth. When she was human she only gained two sets of teeth and then they were done. Most the species on this world seemed to gain a new set every fifty years or so. But she’d seen creatures regrow arms and legs over time. One even regrew their eye. It took time, of course, some even taking years if not accelerated with magic. But very few injuries were for life unless they just couldn’t find the time to actually heal.

Demons were especially durable. They could survive almost anything short of losing their heart or head. But the disadvantage could be pretty severe in some cases, if they weren’t careful. Most demons kept to their smaller, more humanoid form out of necessity. While their full demonic form was often more powerful, it burned far too much energy. It could be useful for short fights, but using it too long once a demon had fully grown could lead to starvation in even the strongest of demons. There just wasn’t any way to feed something like that for long.

Phaedra sometimes wondered if that was where the original realization of devouring hearts came from. In this world, the heart seemed to be the center of where the magic was and there was nothing that gave more energy than devouring the heart of another. In many ways, it was the ultimate power up. Adding their power to your own, giving you a rush of energy, healing your wounds. There was almost nothing that devouring the heart of another couldn’t do.

It was another reason she sometimes disliked going into her full demon form. It didn’t take long in that form before she began to see more and more things like food.

A little drool dropped down her chin and she shook her head, trying not to think about it. She’d been incredibly lucky during her life, she knew that. Her father was already a powerful demon and food was something she had almost never been denied. Even Gibs during his harshest training had never denied her a meal.

Phaedra wondered if Yroth had that same problem. Was that why she was so destructive? Was she just really, really hungry all the time? If so, that’d be hilarious. Despite everything they’d been through, if truly the only thing she needed was to be small more often and devour a few calorie dense meals.

No, Yroth probably just had anger issues. Or tension from being at war for too long. “You hear that, trees?” Phaedra asked. “My girlfriend just has anger issues.”

The trees, unsurprisingly, didn’t respond. She supposed that made sense, it wasn’t like she was speaking out loud. All she was doing was thinking to herself to try and distract herself from the pain in her arm. And the growing gnawing in her stomach.

All she wanted to do was collapse on the ground and sleep, but she knew that was suicide. If she slept, the hunger would catch up with her. If the hunger caught up to her, she’d never be able to move. She’d be devoured by something else in these woods.

“If I die here I’ll never hear the end of it,” Phaedra muttered. She wondered if the plants would get the Medon name if they killed her. Could plants get names? She wished she understood more how that magic worked. Then again, she doubted anything in this world truly understood how it worked. Sometimes it seemed to do one thing, then another. Some names had powers that seemed to work entirely different from the rest of the world’s magic. Then other names seemed to only be hindered by the rules of this world.

She wondered if the eternal war was causing the names to have such weird powers, or if it was an effect of so many people being summoned from other worlds. She doubted people like her, those summoned from a world without magic, had much of an effect on the names. But those summoned from their own worlds with their own type of magic probably changed them a lot. And if there was one thing the people of this world were good at, it was absorbing the powers and magic of others.

Phaedra tripped over a tree root, letting out a startled shriek before crashing down into a bush. She groaned and laid there for a moment, panting. She was so, so tired.

She wished she had some company, anyone to talk to. Listening to her own thoughts sucked. Tired, dirty, hurting, lonely, hungry. She wondered which was the worst of all of them.

Phaedra jerked up, yanking her hoof away from a thorny, coiling vine. She was bleeding all over from all the thorns, but the only thing she could do in response was growl at them ineffectually.

She didn’t blame Lu Bu for wanting to burn this forest to the ground, at moments like this she wished she could. She’d been so stupid. Grown overconfident. She could survive a fall from the airship, so what did it matter if she fell from it?

It hadn’t even dawned on her that she might land somewhere that she couldn’t easily walk away from. Wounded as she was, she couldn’t even just wait for help to arrive. If help even could arrive. Transforming was out of the question, as tightly as the trees were they’d just end up tearing into her, creating more wounds to exhaust her. Then she’d probably get stuck between some of the trees. She could almost hear Yroth laughing at her at the idea.

Phaedra let out another shriek as her hoof snagged again and she fell once more, this time tumbling down a small hill to land at the bottom with a pained, exhausted whine. She rolled over onto her back and panted, closing her eyes. Why was this all so hard? Everything had been so relaxed just a short bit ago, now she was laying on her back in the middle of a forest that likely wanted to kill her. Every rustle of leaves likely a hint at something terrible that--

Phaedra’s eyes opened when she realized nothing was trying to grab her this time. She looked around and barely suppressed a happy, giddy squeal.

A path. She’d fallen into a path. Sure, it was overgrown, but it WAS a path. Despite her aches and pains she crawled to her feet, letting out a hiss of pain when her mangled arm fell limp at her side. She quickly clutched it with her other arm and started walking again.

This was what she needed. She started walking, panting lightly with each step but hope blossoming within. Luck had, once again, proven to be what she needed. All she had to do was find one of those stations Atlas had told her about and she’d be fine. The rations they’d have wouldn’t be much, but compared to the nothing she had now, they’d likely taste heavenly.

------

The sun was beginning to set when, finally, Phaedra came to a small clearing. At least, she thought it was a clearing. The path she walked on was lightly overgrown, but it was clear that it had been walked heavily before.

The clearing was in far worse condition. There were three rocks that had likely, once, been used as resting points.

Now? They were overgrown entirely, flowers and thorns covering them. A tree had taken root here and was slowly growing, in a century or two it would likely grow tall enough that this ‘clearing’ would no longer be a clearing at all.

This clearing hadn’t served as one in a long, long time she imagined. Worse, she felt a small, growing dread that it wouldn’t have anything she needed. Gingerly she walked to the three small rocks and stepped between them. She gave a soft, silent prayer before expending just a little bit of magic into the spell Atlas had taught her so long ago.

To her delight, a tree in the distance began to glow a light, golden color.

It worked.

Phaedra grinned wider and started walking towards the glow, cringing as another pang of hunger tightened in her stomach. “I’m almost there,” she said in a soft, soothing tone. Soon she’d have food. Real food. It wouldn’t be tasty, but it would be something. If it was good enough, she’d maybe have enough strength to hunt something better.

Just a little more.

She put her hand on the tree and grinned. “C-come on…” Phaedra whispered. A small hole seemed to materialize in the side of the tree, an odd growth the tree had long since grown around. Inside was a small, wooden box. She pulled it out, tearing off the lid.

And almost burst into tears.

Once, the container had held food, medical supplies, help.

Now?

All it held was a tiny bit of bandages, not even enough to properly wrap her arm. A few tears trickled down her face. “I’m going to die out here, aren’t I?” she asked softly.

Phaedra growled before throwing the small container as hard as she could into the forest. She leaned her head forward and rested her forehead against the tree for a moment. She needed to eat something. Anything. How had she not run into berries by now? Or any animals? She’d kill for something small and edible about now.

Though, as tired and hurt as she was, she doubted she could catch it.

“Fine,” Phaedra whispered to herself. “So… this one was a bust. But the spell works. I just need to find one that’s still in use. There has to be at least one. These forests ARE still used. It’s not like all of their trails have faded, right? I just need to find one that still works… that’s all…”

She heard rustling in the bushes again, but when she looked over there was nothing. She slowly turned and started walking again.

She had to keep going, to keep trying. Otherwise…

Otherwise she’d fail entirely.

… She’d rather fight a dozen demons than this, though. Demons could be fought. How could you fight hunger and pain?

Especially when, eventually, she collapsed once more on the path, the need for rest finally defeating her need to find food.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!