After eating, his body was filled with heaviness, but not the kind that pulls you to the floor, but the kind that feels tight from within. He felt his muscles gain tone, his blood become thicker, and with each breath his chest responded not with weakness, but with an unusual stability. This state was new, but there was no sense of danger in it. He walked to the window without opening the curtains. He allowed himself to imagine that on the other side of the glass there was a space accessible not by force, but by one's own will. He was not dreaming, no. He knew that it was impossible, but he still allowed the thought: to walk around the castle grounds, to go outside the room, to breathe in the fresh air.
For the first time, he allowed himself to dream about the inaccessible.
The understanding that he would not be allowed to do this returned quickly and without any drama. This feeling was felt as a calm, heavy knowledge, which he no longer argued with. He returned to the bed, sat on the edge, ran his hand over the fabric, exhaled through his nose and lay down without covering himself. He did not expect to fall asleep, because his eyes were not tired. He just wanted to remain in silence. This was the only form of security that did not require words and decisions from him.
The door opened abruptly without warning or any knock for the sake of decency. Omega rose instantly, his muscles worked faster than his consciousness, and his heart jerked in his chest so hard that the first thing he felt was not fear, but heat. Two guards entered the room. Their faces were new, apparently the patrol had already changed. There was neither cruelty nor interest on their faces. Only official discontent. One of them, without taking a step inside, threw out a short phrase in which there was no anger:
"In ten minutes you must be ready."
He did not dare ask where and why. Everything inside him was all mixed up at once: his pulse, the tension in his shoulders, his knees ready to run, and his throat constricted as if he was about to make a mistake. It took a while for him to find the strength to say something or clarify something, but the guards' gazes were already fixed on the walls and the floor - just not on him. He realized that any words would remain unanswered and would be perceived only as an attempt to disobey. He nodded silently, barely noticeably.
They left just as silently. He stood up, walked towards the bathroom, without turning around or making unnecessary movements.
The feeling that someone was watching him had not gone away since yesterday.
The door to the bathroom was slightly open. Everything was already prepared. The water in the bowl was warm, the towel was dry, laid strictly in the center of the narrow wooden shelf. He washed his face, ran his hand over his neck to cheer himself up. His body responded with a cold and a tightness of the skin. He did not feel dirty, but marked. There was no pain, but there was no cleanliness either. Everything that was happening seemed like a scene, played out according to a script for which he did not know a single line.
He did not change his clothes. The shirt was the same one in which he slept and ate breakfast. It was neat enough, and no one asked for a change. He returned to the room not knowing what it meant to be "ready" and not understanding whether he was ready for anything. The same two were already standing at the door. They did not look at him. One stepped aside, the other opened the door outward.
He approached them with caution. Deep inside lived the thoughts that had helped him survive until his years: do not ask questions, do not break the rhythm, do not do what is not asked of you, do not look into the eyes. But the fear did not disappear. He felt that his every step was being watched for evaluation. Even the common servants had more power than the new Lady of the Castle.
He took the first step out.
As he stepped out the door, his eyes immediately caught the light. It was not too bright, not scorching, but still unusual after long days in stone, under ceilings and fabrics. The space in front of him opened up into a wide courtyard - paved paths, low hedges, greenery, unevenly but well-groomed. The air was cool, without moisture, but with a subtle freshness. It was not the smell of freedom, but it was different from the castle walls, and this alone was enough for the body to react instantly.
He stopped for a moment, not taking a step, not knowing whether he had the right to go first. Two guards remained behind him, but they did not come closer, did not repeat the order. One of them, without turning his head, said quietly:
"Do what you want."
The phrase sounded so absurd that at first he thought he had misheard. He turned slowly, wanting to clarify, to ask again, but he saw only indifferent faces and hands clasped behind their backs. None of them looked directly at him. The words were not an invitation - they were a statement of fact. He was allowed. Or given the illusion that he could choose.
Paths diverged before him. They led in different directions - to the pond, deep into the green garden, to a row of stone sculptures, to a small canopy covered with grape vines. He did not know where to go, because he had never had such an opportunity before. Even when they were taken out of the basements or sheds, it was once a month, no more, always under close control, along a strictly defined route. Then a step to the side could cost punishment.
Now there was nothing in front of him except paths.
He chose the straight one, not because he knew where it was leading, but because his gaze stopped on the line of the path, and a feeling arose in his chest as if his body was ready to move on its own. He stepped forward, and the guards moved behind him without making a sound, falling behind him at a distance sufficient for him to feel their presence, but not to feel their shadow on him.
The first touch of air on his skin was strange. He seemed to expect pain or cold, but instead received something else - a light, enveloping breath of a world he did not believe in. His lungs expanded more deeply than in recent days. He felt his heart beating, not rapidly - calmly, but with new strength.
With each step his legs became firmer. He did not speed up intentionally, but the movement came of its own accord. At first simply confidently, then faster, and when he noticed that he was almost skipping from an excess of new energy and childish joy, it was too late to stop.
He did not feel fear. Only a cautious, vulnerable, almost painful surprise that no one stopped him. His hands reached out to the plants themselves. He touched a rough leaf, cringed, expecting a shout, but behind him there was still silence. Then he allowed himself more - he ran his palm along the stem, sniffed a flower, reached for the grass at the edge of the path. Everything was real. He did not know how long it would last, but while it lasted, he wanted to satiate himself with this state.
The birds' chirping was pure, ringing, and seemed impossible. He listened, frozen, with his face raised, and almost whispered out loud, with a hoarseness in his voice - not from pain, but from uncertainty:
"Let me become one of them in another life ..."
His step turned into a run. It was not an escape. It was a movement in which the body for the first time in a long time did not resist itself. He did not know where the path led. He did not think about what would happen when he was stopped. He wanted to move until the air in his chest ran out.
But the air suddenly changed. He felt it almost physically: first the shrinking space ahead, then the intermittent breathing, and only then did his gaze stop.
On the path, a few dozen steps away, stood a man. Alone. Tall and motionless. He was not walking toward him. He was simply looking in the other direction.
Omega did not recognize him at first. The big man was not wearing security clothes. He did not have a mask, no hood. Only fabric, thick, dark, and his arms lowered along his body.
Serak.
Omega froze.
His legs, which had been moving on their own until then, stopped abruptly. Everything flared up in his chest at once - fear, guilt, and that strange, unacceptable warmth that he could not explain.
Serak stood calmly. He did not say a word. He did not take a step. But that was enough for the entire run to turn into a daze.
Omega wanted to turn away, but he couldn't. The man finally saw Omega.