It was dark now.
A cool breeze brushed over Merlin's face. He had been walking for a long time. He wasn't in a hurry—he didn't need to be. No one was permitted outside, so he certainly wasn't being followed.
There was no shelter in sight. Only a wide field of thick, dark grass, flowing with the wind.
Merlin clenched his teeth and kept his head down. He reached inside his coat pocket.
Only his dagger.
He opened his mouth and gasped for air. His throat was dry. There was no water source in sight. His knees shook, but he kept moving.
Then they shook again.
This time, he let go.
His back hit the ground, and he was immediately swallowed by the grass.
Stars twinkled above him.
Merlin lifted his right hand toward the sky—forgetting, for a moment, that it was injured.
Merlin's arm fell back to his side.
The pain followed a heartbeat later—sharp, hot, unrelenting. He hissed and clenched his teeth, the sound tearing out of him before he could stop it.
Idiot.
He turned his head away from the stars and stared into the grass instead. It pressed against his cheek, damp and cool, bending under his weight without resistance.
If I were smarter…
The thought didn't finish. It never did.
His fingers curled weakly into the earth, grasping at nothing. He could still feel the weight of her hand in his, the moment before it slipped away. The moment he let it.
You hesitated.
The words weren't accusation.
They were fact.
His chest tightened. Breathing became shallow, uneven. He forced air into his lungs, one breath at a time, the way he always did when things threatened to spiral.
The field stretched endlessly around him, empty and dark. No walls. No guards. No voices.
Freedom.
The word felt wrong.
Merlin swallowed and shifted slightly. His injured arm protested immediately, sending a wave of pain through his shoulder. He groaned quietly and stilled again.
He didn't have the strength to move anymore.
Not tonight.
His eyelids grew heavy despite himself. Exhaustion crept in the way it always did—slow, merciless, impossible to fight. His thoughts blurred at the edges, losing their sharpness.
He touched the handkerchief tied around his arm.
Riya's face surfaced once more.
He clenched his teeth.
Her face wasn't crying.
It wasn't afraid either.
Just looking at him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words barely audible.
The grass rustled softly around him as the wind passed through. The stars continued their distant, indifferent watch.
Merlin let go.
Sleep took him where thought could not follow.
A ray of light shined on Merlin's face, penetrating his eyelids and waking him up. The sun was almost just above him. Merlin jumped up to his feet before he could think. His eyes opened widely. How could I sleep for so long? Merlin asked himself. He looked ahead and saw miles of beautifully green grass and a forest just ahead. Merlin was captivated. The reality of his freedom had hit him. But not long after, his growling stomach brought him back to reality. He was really hungry but had no idea what to do. Seeing the trees he decided to head for the forest. At least it could serve as shelter, he told himself.
He dragged his feet through the grass. Throughout He kept on observing his knees, the grass brushed against it. He kept watching it till he got closer to the forest. The grass over there was a lot shorter. Merlin hesitated before passing. He had spotted pathways running through the forest. He kept moving. Scanning the trees desperately, hoping to find fruit. But alas these trees were evergreen trees. Merlin heard a low clashing sound. He couldn't tell what it was but the deeper he went the louder it became. After walking a few steps he realized. It was the clashing of water on rocks. Merlin quickening his pace, he could see the river from where he was. It looked clear and drinkable but not the most desirable. He walked up to the river and knelt before it scooping water with his hands and guiding it to his mouth. He held his breath as he was drinking then totally submerged his face in water. After a second or two he pulled his head back gasping for air.
Merlin's face showed disappointment.
How Undignified. He thought to himself.
Merlin heard a soft rustle behind him.
He turned.
At first, he thought his eyes were lying.
Something stood near the edge of the brush—low to the ground, motionless, its form outlined by sunlight filtering through the trees. Its fur burned red, not dull or dirty, but vivid, like flame caught in flesh. The color looked wrong against the muted greens and browns of the forest.
Beautiful.
Alive.
A red fox.
Merlin didn't breathe.
It wasn't listed.
It wasn't trained.
It wasn't chained.
It simply was.
For a moment, he forgot where he was. Forgot the pain in his arm. Forgot the hunger clawing at his stomach. He stared as if the creature might vanish. He had heard about red foxes but never imagined seeing one outside a fairy tale.
The fox watched him back.
Its eyes were sharp. Clear. Intelligent in a way that made Merlin uneasy. A rabbit hung limp from its jaws, blood dark against red fur, but the fox didn't hurry. It didn't fear him.
That terrified him more than anything else.
So this is real, he thought.
This world… actually exists.
His chest tightened—not from pain, but from something dangerously close to wonder.
Then the fox shifted its weight.
Reality snapped back into place.
Hunger surged, sudden and brutal. His hand moved before his mind could argue, fingers closing around the dagger's hilt.
The fox noticed.
Its body tensed.
Merlin lunged.
The fox exploded into motion, a streak of red tearing through grass and roots. Merlin chased, boots slipping, breath burning in his chest. His injured arm screamed, but he ignored it, pushing forward with reckless desperation.
Too slow.
The fox veered sharply, darting through undergrowth he couldn't follow. But he kept pushing. The fox changed directions faster than Merlin could think. It changed directions again towards the river and passed over it. Merlin tried to do the same, ignoring the slope. He lost balance and slid to the bottom, almost entering the river. Now Merlin could only sit and look up to the fox above him. It stared back at him like it was about to speak to him. Merlin held eye contact. Then he realized. It wasn't holding the rabbit. It must have fell during the chase.
As soon as he realized the fox left. Merlin ran back the way he came trying to find the rabbit. But it was difficult. There were too many twists and turns. Finally he found it. Merlin's eyes lit with happiness.
Then he looked down.
The rabbit lay at his feet.
Warm.
Real.
Merlin stared at it for a long time.
The fox had fled with its life.
And left him something else.
He crouched slowly, lifting the rabbit with care, as if afraid it might disappear too.
"…Thank you," he murmured—though he wasn't sure who he was speaking to.
Silence Followed.
But for the first time since crossing the wall, Merlin felt it watching him—not as a cage…
…but as a world.