"A New Life."

“Ow!” Arya hissed, wincing at the sting of her jagged wound as she wrapped the last of her bandages around it. Through teary eyes, she looked up at the stars gleaming above her, her only friends for the past few years. Over time, they had seemed like her guardians, twinkling brightly as they watched her.

Kicking a rock into the shallow river below, Arya looked down, beholding her bedraggled clothes and dirt crusted skin. It wasn’t easy living in the forest; it was dark and cold and there were many things that could kill you.

It hadn’t always been like this. The disheveled, nomadic girl had once been the definition of normal. Memories of her former home, Rana, nestled in the mountains, danced around her mind each day, and she remembered them fondly.

Helping her mother bake shortbread cookies for the villagers had been one of Arya’s favorite pastimes, and the smile her mother gave as she ushered her out of the kitchen with a handful of warm cookies evoked warm feelings.

However, no matter how hard Arya tried, she couldn’t keep out the one memory she wanted to forget.

“Please, someone help me!” Rubbing her eyes, Arya yawned as she sat up, wondering what all the commotion was about. Standing on her bed, she looked out the window, blue eyes widening at the sight.

The village was burning. Many ran from their homes carrying their children and various prized possessions, shouting for others through the roar of the flames.

“Mom?” Dashing off her bed, Arya ran through her house, heels thumping on the wooden floors as she frantically searched for her mother. Thrusting each door open, the girl shouted, her throat raw from screaming and smoke inhalation. Finally, she reached the kitchen, the last possible room.

Flames had destroyed the roof, and the whole room lay in shambles. Arya’s vision clouded and she wiped at her eyes furiously, desperately trying to find her mother. A bowl of batter lay spilled on the floor nearby, catching her attention. A hand wasn’t far from it, and there she saw her mother, trapped under debris.

Arya shouted, pleading for anyone to help them. Shaking her mother yielded no response, her head lolling against the ground.

Feeling arms around her waist, Arya screamed hoarsely as she was dragging from the ruins of her home, dumped on the cold soil and left to cry.

Arya didn’t have the slightest idea of who had pulled her out of the fire, or who started it for that matter. Crying until she exhausted herself, she had woken up hours later, the fire having completely devoured her home. Since then, she traveled from place to place, gathering whatever resources she could find to make her life a bit easier.

It wasn’t until she had happened upon the Zydanian Forest that she had taken the time to rest. Nearby was the Zydanian Palace, and while she didn’t like to call herself a thief, it wasn’t the hardest place she had ever had to steal something from. Usually, it was something small, a trinket or bauble that probably wouldn’t be missed. It was a hassle to have to travel a day to the next town to sell her new belongings, but the food alone she managed to buy was worth it. Tempting though it was to stay in an inn for a night, the risk of a policeman coming around was too great.

Various guards had tried to catch her, but they didn’t know the forest as well, and frequently ended up lost, much to Arya’s amusement.

Sitting on the ground, Arya started a fire to warm her chilled skin, pulling her latest loot out of her bag, unwrapping it carefully. It was a small glass horse, one of her favorite items. Rotating it in front of the fire, she admired how it caught the light, the craftsmanship apparent.

“I believe that’s mine.”

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, Arya shoved the horse into her bag, drawing her weapon, a small silver dagger.

“Who said that?” A boy appeared, stepping over various branches, his hands held up in surrender. Holding her knife high, she kept her eyes trained on the trespasser, unsure of what he would do.

“I’m Alexander.” Slowly lowering his hands, he stood his ground. “I just thought I should meet the girl who’s managed to evade my guards all this time.”

“Your guards?” Arya questioned, her hands beginning to shake.

“You’re the prince then?”

“That’s right.”

Eyes darting to the trees, her heart beat furiously in her chest. Would an army of guards come through, ready to restrain her and escort her to jail? Or would they be merciless and sentence her to death the following day? Paranoia clouded her mind and she backed up frantically.

“Take it back,” Gesturing towards the bag, Arya tried to calm her nerves, scared out of her mind.

“What’s the matter?” Sitting on a log, the prince raised an eyebrow quizzically, gesturing to her shaking form. “You’re awfully pale.”

“Like you wouldn’t be!” He looked surprised at the sudden snappy reply, but shrugged.

“Fair, you don’t really know me. I used to play here as a boy. That’s the only reason that I found you.”

Trying to escape would be a gamble. He probably had these woods surrounded. Finally, she relented.

“Just get it over with.” Sinking to the ground in defeat, she sheathed her dagger, huddling close to the fire.

“What are you talking about?” Surprisingly, he approached her, kneeling nearby. Arya hadn’t noticed earlier due to her fear, but Prince Alexander wasn’t wearing the usual royal garb. Instead he was clad in more casual clothing, causing her more confusion.

“You’re taking me to jail, aren’t you?” Wrapping her arms around her small frame, she looked at him tearfully. “Having the guards arrest me for stealing all your stuff.”

His laugh was what surprised her the most. Laughter was something that had been forgotten, and it felt nice to hear it again.

“The guards don’t even know that I’m here. No, I just wanted to offer you something.” Her curiosity piqued; she knew she had to ask.

“What would you ever want to offer me?” Prince Alexander smiled, extending a hand towards her.

“A friend.” Searching his face, Arya couldn’t see any sign of deception. Still, she was wary to trust him.

“A friend?”

“And a home, if you’d like.” Mind racing of all the things that could go wrong with this arrangement, Arya pushed the negativity away. Maybe it was time for something good to happen in her life.

Taking his hand, she shook it slightly, giving a small smile in return.

The two stood, putting out the fire. Letting her grab her few belongings, Alexander kept a hold on her hand as he began to lead her out of the woods and to her new life.

Looking up at the stars, Arya smiled, tears falling as she waved up at them.

Maybe her mother was still with her after all.