Chapter 13 – Until the Forest Shelters Us
They ran.
Their footsteps echoed against the damp cobblestones of French Ville, chased by the shouts of the robed zealots who, crosses and rosaries raised, howled like the possessed.
— They are the Devil's messengers! one cried.
— Stop them! The beast is among us!
Monsieur Dumas's arms ached, but he held Mylova as if her life depended on it. In his embrace, she seemed to drift between two worlds, half-conscious, her lips parting only to murmur:
— I don't… want to be a sacrifice anymore…
Behind them, Louis brought up the rear, panting, fire in his eyes. The abbots still waved their Bibles like torches of hatred.
— Run, run if you want, but God will catch you! one yelled.
Louis growled.
— Not that God.
He quickened his pace, catching up to father and daughter.
— The woods are straight ahead!
— And the idiots in robes are right behind, Dumas shot back. Faster!
---
They plunged into the forest.
Daylight barely pierced the thick canopy. Everything here felt damp, silent, alive. Far, far away from human judgment.
They walked, then ran again, until nothing followed them.
The voices faded, replaced by the rustle of the wind.
And there, by the edge of a small stream, they stopped.
Dumas laid Mylova down on a bed of moss.
She was light. Far too light.
Her cheeks were hollow, her arms marked by rope, her skin… that soft skin of youth… scarred.
Dumas knelt immediately.
— She needs care, he said heavily. Those dogs pressed the cross of evil onto my child.
Louis, anger and grief mixing in his gaze, pulled a small vial of dried herbs, a clean cloth, and a bit of water from his bag.
— Caya plant, he murmured. Helps healing. My grandmother swore it chased away curses too.
He said it trying to lighten the air.
He cleaned Mylova's wounds with a firm yet gentle hand. Dumas watched her, eyes glistening, unable to speak.
She finally opened her eyes — just a little — and a thin voice slipped out:
— Are you… am I dead?
Dumas leaned close.
— No, sweetheart. It's Papa. We got you out. It's over now.
She reached a trembling hand to touch his cheek.
— I knew you'd come… I know you love me and believe in me. I love you, Papa.
Then she turned to Louis, tears slipping as she smiled softly.
— I knew I was right to follow my heart instead of their laws. I love you.
— I love you too, my life. It's over now. Rest — your father and I will watch over you from now on…
They both looked at her tenderly.
They wrapped her in a blanket and searched for a spot to rest for a while.
---
After a few hours of rest, once she had eaten and drunk, they set off again.
The forest seemed to welcome them. Every tree whispered: Here, you are free.
Along the way, Mylova, still weak on her