Between Shadows and Light

Our World

Katherine slowly approached her home. She was exhausted and longed for nothing more than her bed—a place to rest at last.

As she passed by the stables, she suddenly froze. Something moved in the shadows. Her heart leapt into her throat. Rushing closer, she saw a young man lying in the darkness. He was unconscious, not even flinching at her presence. A small bag lay nearby.

Despite her inner fear and the warning that this stranger might be dangerous, Katherine stepped closer and leaned down.

What if he's dangerous? What if he's only pretending to be unconscious, waiting for me to get close? The thought locked her muscles in place for a moment.

But the young man looked far too weak to pose any threat. He didn't move, not even when she gently touched his shoulder.

Her fingers brushed something warm and sticky—Katherine froze.

Blood.

A memory flashed through her mind—of her father, wounded and helpless. That familiar weight settled in her chest. She couldn't just walk away and leave this stranger to his fate. Not now, not when she was able to help.

She carefully turned the man onto his back.

Is he still alive?

Her hands moved instinctively to his neck, searching for a pulse. Faint but steady beats calmed her racing thoughts.

But who is he? Why is he wounded? If someone's chasing him, could I be in danger too? The questions pierced her mind, but when he stirred slightly, her hesitation melted away.

Katherine pressed her lips together, eyes scanning for a way to move him somewhere safer. There was no way she could carry him to the house. The stables would have to do.

"Hey," she said, gently shaking his shoulder.

The young man groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

Katherine recoiled, startled, and took a moment to catch her breath. Carefully stepping closer, she studied the cracked corners of his lips and his faint efforts to take in his surroundings. He didn't look threatening.

"Dagger..." he whispered hoarsely.

She froze, instantly alert.

Dagger? she repeated silently, her eyes following his gaze to a glinting object in the grass.

She bent down and cautiously picked up the strange weapon. It was heavy, its surface decorated with colourful crystals. It looked nothing like the blades of her world—and the young man, who had appeared out of nowhere, likely wasn't from here.

Approaching him again, Katherine held out the dagger.

"Thank you," he said weakly, tucking the weapon into his belt.

He tried to stand but swayed as if he were drunk. Katherine saw he wouldn't make it on his own.

"Let me help you," she said.

Moving closer, she slung his arm over her shoulder. He leaned heavily on her, and she had to brace herself not to fall. Slowly, they began making their way to the stables. His weight bore down on her, but she pressed forward. Every step was slow and shaky.

"Just... let me go," he muttered, trying to pull away, but his body betrayed him.

"Not a chance," Katherine replied firmly.

He said nothing more but didn't resist again.

It took some time, but they finally reached the stable doors. His leg seemed injured, though he didn't complain.