RUNAWAY REBEL

 As I closed the heavy castle gate, I could still hear my head ringing. I turned my back and leaned on the gate; I could feel blood trickling down my left chest. The arrow was still stuck there. I looked at it and saw it moving weakly, just as my heart did. I closed my eyes, then broke the protruding arrow stem with my right hand, leaving the arrowhead buried deep in my left heart. As I walked toward my castle, I could hear the laughter of happy people within. I looked at the wound—it had healed, but the arrowhead still remained. I had to put on a brave face, but the pain was unbearable. Yet, I wanted that pain to stay, for I never wanted to forget what I had felt over the past two days.

Two days earlier, I had been standing in one of my towers, gazing down at the forest. My heart was steady, my people contented, and I believed I had all I needed. But as I stood there, a figure moved through the trees, and suddenly, something stirred within me. I felt an unfamiliar pulse in the left side of my chest. Curiosity overtook me, and I descended the stairs.

For years, I had been locked inside my castle, never venturing out. The bolts on the gate were rusty, and I had to force them open. As I stepped into the forest that I had only ever observed from afar, I wondered what had driven me out. Just as I was about to turn back, I heard rustling leaves behind me. I turned, and there she was.

In that moment, my chest thundered with a second heartbeat. I reached my hand to the left side of my chest and felt it—a second heart, alive and powerful. My body felt like it had never felt before. She stood there, an arrow nocked on her bowstring, ready to strike.

“Relax,” she said, lowering the bow and covering her smile with her hand.

For two days, we spoke of everything and nothing. Each time I returned to my castle, my people celebrated my joy. The energy from my second heart made me feel invincible, like a god. The rebel who roamed the forest, forbidden and free, had transformed me.

But on the third day, everything changed. I went to the forest as usual, but this time, she was waiting, an arrow drawn, hate in her eyes. She said nothing, only released the arrow. It struck my heart. I tried to scream but couldn’t. I reached out to her, but she was already gone. As I collapsed in the forest, I could still hear her voice in my head, and I smiled, knowing that if she had wanted to kill me, she would have aimed for my second heart. In that moment, she held my life in her hands.

The king, with his two hearts forever intertwined in the bittersweet memory of the rebel, often found himself wandering to the edges of his castle walls, gazing at the forest. Though life in his castle had resumed its course, with laughter and feasts filling the grand halls, his second heart never let him forget. It beat with a faint, sporadic rhythm whenever news of her reached him.

She had become a legend—a runaway rebel who liberated towns crushed by tyranny. The stories of her courage traveled far and wide. She fought battles no one dared to face, rallying oppressed souls and bringing hope to broken lands. It was said that she freed a prince, once shackled by his crown’s curse. The two, both scarred by their pasts, found solace in each other, their bond growing as they rebuilt kingdoms and dreams alike.

The king heard whispers of their union, their shared happiness, and their peaceful life together. He smiled, though the flicker of his second heart reminded him of what once was. It never ceased its quiet hum, a constant presence, a tether to the forest where she had stolen something no one else ever could—his second heart's true beat.

The king knew that the rebel's arrow, though aimed with fury, had marked him in a way that time could never erase. Her defiance, her laughter, her silence—each left an imprint. And as he ruled, his strength bolstered by the flicker of his second heart, he vowed to be a king deserving of its presence. For even though it would never beat the same way again, it made him stronger, wiser, and infinitely more human.

The rebel had won not just her freedom, but his eternal reverence.


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