Alina's POV.
I was also surprised to hear myself pleading to get back to that terror zone I just called a fantasy dream but still genuinely desiring to dream again and see the strange man, or will I say 'creature,' calling out to me in the creepy forest that I finally met today?
"Sleepy ass, I can see you've still got your head wrapped up in that damn voice in your dreams," Nissa teased, clearly picking up on my slip about Prince Charming.
Nissa has always been aware of these nightmares right from the first day they crept into my sleep. We've never kept secrets from each other since we're left to be cared for by no one else but ourselves, since we both have no parents. Sharing our secrets and our pains was also our little way of watching each other's backs.
Granny has always been my haven whenever I have this dream, until she passed on, and Nissa became my confidante. She would tease, muse, and playfully mock me just enough to help me get over it and get used to it—a practice I'm always grateful she initiated.
"Well, it wasn't just the voice this time; I finally saw his face." My words instantly captured her attention, just as I had assumed—a new piece of information to pique her curiosity.
"Really, what does he look like? Was he tall, handsome, fancy, mighty like a warrior, or grumpy and sassy like an idiot?" she pressed, her eyes glinting with anticipation, and her ears turned for even the lightest wind of the information I would release.
I smiled, secretly pleased to keep her at bay while fueling her curiosity. "Mmm…that's a story for another time; let's get back to the ball you talked about."
"Hell…yeah…about that. It's the royal family's anniversary day," she groaned in disappointment, rolling her eyes at me.
Then it hit me.
Quickly, memories snapped back in my mind. The event of the week, the day, the plan. It was the day of the royal family's anniversary and the princess's birthday.
We intended to get some fruits from the woods that we would give to the princess, who had been our secret friend since we turned teens. It was also her birthday, and that's the least we can do for her since we had no money to buy expensive gifts.
The princess has been a good friend to us since the day I fell into her backyard while trying to pluck some plums in her backyard. I would've been punished severely for trying to steal from the royal family if she had reported me to the king.
Instead, she chose to hide me and later helped me escape from the palace, and also gave me some plums. Since then, we have become good friends. I introduced her to Nissa. She would occasionally sneak out of the palace to come see us and also give us some foodstuffs. We kept our relationship secret so we wouldn't put the princess in trouble since it's forbidden for royalty to mingle with the lower-class poor kids like Nissa and me.
"Holy shit! How could I forget?" I leapt up from the floor and tossed the pillow back to the bed. Tense and overwhelmed in realization of what I was about to turn into a mess.
"Uh-uh, you did forget after all. Should've just completed the dream first," Nissa pouted, clearly disappointed.
"Well, I will do the favor of briefing the story on our way to the woods."
Her whole face lit up in excitement as her lips curved up in a bold smile.
"Really? Promise?" She asked, sticking out her index finger.
"Yeah, I promise," I replied, hooking mine with hers before dashing out of the room to get ready, her giggle trailing behind me.
A moment later, I hurried back with a bowl of water, ready to clean up, and put on my light-mud mask for disguise before dressing up.
Nissa has already occupied my reading chair, situated at the corner of my bed, flipping through the werewolf and mystical creatures story, which I was reading last night before falling asleep. Her patched apron dangled from her waist, partly hiding the frayed hem of her faded homespun dress.
Nissa might be my friend, but she is my baby sis in every way. She is just walking into her early twenties, while I'm already in my mid-twenties. At twenty-two, she still looks to me for guidance, while I, nearly twenty-five in two days, carry the weight of being both sister and mother. She runs to me with her choices, leans on me when things get hard, and together we've built our own little world of survival.
She would always want to know the latest narrative I'm consuming each time she visits, and just like other days, she wandered into the book on my desk, trying to know what the story was all about.
She knows I live for books, and I would often borrow from Mr. Silas Whitmore—an elderly bookseller with ink-stained fingers and spectacles forever slipping down his nose.
Mr. Silas loved my reading habits. He never charged me even a penny. Only a smile and instruction to keep them safe and handle them with care. And with that, his shop became my free way to a nook.
Nissa enjoyed the stories when I retold them, though she never cracked them open herself. Adventures, not reading, are her way.
Our world is always filled with tussles and hassles, yet it feels as though it holds only the two of us, and we always find a way to navigate, keeping each other alive through shared strength.
"Wolves? Are you reading about wolves? Do you really think they do exist?" She asked, finally pulling her attention from the book.
"I don't know," I murmured, tugging on my worn woolen dress, which I had been struggling with, "but I have a feeling that they might. After all, some myths do exist." I replied, not knowing that my Innocent assumptions would be the reality I would live in, someday.