Fright seemed to be etched deeply onto the woman’s freckled facial features as she sprinted through the forest, her dirt-adorned hazelnut doe eyes wide open.

There was a very valid reason for her clumsily flung around feet and less than stable state of mind. An amused reason that came stomping furiously after her on its many misshapen legs.

No, she wasn’t fast–––she could even be considered slow by comparison with other normies who avoided the wicked forest all year round.

But Kassmera ran valiantly forward to escape the creature chasing her. From behind her, she heard grating laughter from its seven maws devoid of teeth as it quashed the sparse undergrowth enriching the path under its terrible weight.

Kassmera herself wasn’t quite sure why she kept escaping death. She only knew that it always happened like this. It was never her brain instructing the body, but the exact opposite.

Compared to her misshapen pursuer driven by primitive instincts that lurked just outside daybreak’s reach, the woman only had human intelligence and the cleverness of the common folk to save her.

Which she made efficient use of. As often as her surroundings permitted, she slipped through random narrow passages, darted around rotting vegetation, circled the wet patches so full of danger, and jumped here and there.

Kassmera pushed herself forward for one reason only: All to make life difficult for her mocking pursuer. All to survive. Several times, she fell to her knees, picked herself up the next moment, turned her numb visage over her shoulder and kept running in the dim light, hoping it wouldn’t devour her.

Testament to her struggle was the slick pelt now soaked in blood. A thin trail of blood marked her travelled path. Kassmera’s wits led the dim-witted, animated fungus into some painful encounters.

The creature had lost count–––not that it was difficult to achieve when two was already the numerical end for that squishy brain–––of how often it collided with sturdy trunks and other obstacles.

With time, the ill-mannered mushroom vaguely recalled jumping over deceptive wooden netting just to end up nearly skittering down a chasm whose existence it had repeatedly missed, slowly turning its glee into bestial fury.

Then there were also the sporadic, all-too-lovey-dovey encounters with all-natural beauties the appearance of punitive lances effortlessly piercing through its reinforced hide.

Whenever that happened, it simply accumulated another stack of rage and another puny wound, reducing its meagre reasoning capacity even further.

This ridiculous display of evolution gone astray helped Kassmera immensely at the beginning, who played this monster like a fiddle.

There was, however, a limit to what wits without proper physical fitness and no deciding opportunity could do out in the open. Even if she had locked out any notion of her multiplying injuries, using everything in her power to flee, Kassmera only prolonged her suffering.

Nonetheless, she did not give up. A seemingly automated push forward led to another. The suns shone brightly as they crept over the horizon, unhindered by the sparser getting foliage blocking them.

Kassmera continued her trek along the remnants of a giant tree whose contours she could barely make out in the dim light. Night was drawing to a close, yet its horrors were not all happy with the change.

Kassmera’s escape had led her high into the woods, leaving the forest floor far below. The floor was somewhere further down the misty bank of clouds covering the trees every morning.

She found herself in the same horrible spot our protagonist had been in when exploring the sea of trees. The suns’ graciousness immediately revealed the full extent of her plight as the two lifeforms emerged from the shadows, each more stubborn than the last.

The pursuer, a giant brownish-silver mushroom flecked with black dots just above the kneecap or what it was that divided its legs into two sections, came at her like the Devil himself.

When exposed to light, the creature grew angrier than ever, eliciting agonised squeals and short-lived hesitations due to the element of surprise that reduced its sprint to a hobbling speedwalk.

Its head then developed a bulge and burst open, revealing tender, pulsating, greenish flesh below–––or whatever nightmarish stuff its innards were made of.

Despite the seemingly small wound on its massive body, this throbbing pain sparked a second wave of boiling rage that overshadowed the mushroom’s tiny brain completely.

Ignoring the sizzling sounds the willful exposure to sunlight had rewarded it with, the hulking monstrosity failed to give up and foolishly continued in its relentless pursuit.

In a last-ditch effort, exhausted and close to passing out, Kassmera jumped over many protruding rocky knots in quick succession. She reached a strange hill sitting atop a cylindrical tendril construct of epic proportions.

The pursuer, losing sight of the desperate prey on such short notice, slammed into the natural barrier in full swing. In its groggy condition, the mushroom shook its body and repositioned its legs on the brittle wattle, causing its overstressed integrity to audibly protest.

It wasn’t long before the vegetation caved in under its weight, dropping the truck-sized forest dweller onto the flowery floor below, which it promptly collapsed too.

Rrrawoooooooiiiiiiiiiihhhhhh!!!

A desperate screech rattled the many leaves above, as well as Kassmera’s trembling body. Amidst the darkness, the monstrosity was no more, eaten by it.

“Bluffrooms...” Kassmera gasped with difficulty as she glanced down the deep hole below the foothill, “deadly!” Thus, the desired ingredient was decisively struck off her list.

On that hill, she quickly tossed herself into a foetal position, eyes shut and breath quieted. As soon as even the last of the adrenaline left her, she fell deep asleep.

Not long after, a deafening yell tore Kassmera from sweet dream’s embrace, prompting her to hurriedly leave as her surroundings vibrated ominously. Regardless of who was responsible, it sounded too close for comfort. Much. Too. Close.

As everything in this cursed forest was. Every single tenant represented a grave danger to the untrained her, and only distance and a lot of luck kept her from ending up as a meal–––so she concluded in the rare moments she found the time to think.

Kassmera repeatedly hit her cheeks to stay awake, rebuffing even the most persistent beckoning of sleep. It looked as if a bit of vitality had returned, only for it to dissipate under reality’s unfavourable influence.

“No sap, no shroom, no meal, no water.” It was like a demonic mantra that left her lips, draining all of her reserves as her brain froze.

“Water, meal, water, meal, watermeal, mealwater, wameal...” At some point, Kassmera’s silent brabbling became illogical, and still, she continued to walk forward oblivious to it all.

She was just as oblivious to the snake-turned-creepers that stretched lazily after her in an effort to ensnare their next meal. Occasionally, hot tears and snot flowed down her face along with her powerless whispers.

How she missed the village! Back then, she never considered making a decision for herself. There was no need! It had been foolish to follow that man... ‘How disgusting.’

The woman understood that her thoughts were born from a marriage of convenience and mediocrity. Yet... Kassmera adamantly continued to refuse to admit that the problem existed.

She was in no way the cause of all her problems! She was a victim! Bullied! ...by herself? Absurd!! ‘Pathetic.’ Which way was the nearest hole to hide in?

‘So damn pathetic!’ Beaten senseless by her own mediocrity, Kassmera laughed–––an unsettling cackle making any listener’s fine hairs stand up in protest. The gaggle was so helpless and forlorn that she might follow Death’s call anytime... or so it seemed.

However! Choosing death readily was never easy. The precious memories of Dure prevented her from doing so. Yes! He was the culprit. He was the sole reason she’d been thrown out. The reason why she... survived.

Yet again. Alive. Only desperation overshadowed the hysterical craze contained in her pitch. It wasn’t the first sign of her mental collapse.

Her mind was in a state of irresolvable conflict. Kassmera’s lover was no more! Her step-brother and husband were probably dead too.

If someone told her right now that even her step-parents had kicked the bucket, she would believe it without question. Because they were affected by her, the malignant star! ...she was alone. All alone. Yet alive.

Gods had either blessed her excessively or cursed for life! Kassmera was more inclined to believe in the latter. The distracted woman stepped tentatively off the narrow branch connecting the hill to the lush floor above.

While the morning fog receded, her gaze lingered on the big, black spot so far down. How the endless depths beckoned her! Kassmera took one step, then another, then... she stopped.

The woman was in irreconcilable disagreement with herself. It froze her reasoning just as much as it froze her muscles. That last step was... impossible.

She couldn’t. Was too weak. Too indecisive. Too inferior to die whenever she wished, however she wished! She suddenly turned around and took one step after another, as before, slowly, decisively, loudly. Stomp. Stomp.

Trampled on pretty flowers and curious fruits. Stomp! She moved like a machine, her aura unknowingly frightening away all predators that saw in her a juicy meal. Stomp! At one point, all she wanted was to throw in the towel and embrace sweet peace.

The other something hidden deep within her broke free for an instant, compelling her to struggle more, and more, and then some more again. Her death was not meant to be. Not now. Not after all the sacrifices.

The cherished memories of Dure returned with a vengeance. It was as if he came back to haunt her. She saw his disapproving face as if he were standing right there, disregarding time and space, the realm of the living and the dead.

No, he was here. Kassmera just couldn’t make out his face clearly. Dure’s head was blurred; the fire where the eyes should have been flickered ominously.

But there was no point in looking closer. Kassmera knew his expression without directly looking at her dead lover. She could neither cower nor spit at him. She opened her mouth as if to viciously curse, then closed it. Because he was no more. Gone.

In the quagmire of toxic thoughts, her mind was lost until an enlightening interpretation saved her. Her situation... Isn’t this also a case of having no choice?

Then there was no need to think, right? The woman walked faster without a particular destination in mind. Where her legs led her was where she would end up. Somewhen, Kassmera’s empty face slowly rose as she stared forward, her eyes burning.

She’d found a certain ingredient yet again. “Sap.” She said. “Sap.” Again. “Sap,” and scurried into the undergrowth, running away from the place.

There was nothing she could do; there was no action she could take that could bind the maniacs staring at her approach like the ripe watermelon she was to them.

Sap of the Millennia Pitcher Plant it had been… hopeless all the same. She later came across a herd of what had been introduced as docile insects by a certain schizophrenic.

Kassmera stopped, eyes scanning the cow-sized, chitinous things munching on a colourful, giant, honey-bleeding birch. The creatures did too.

With nothing better to do than take a risk, the woman took another step forward and was greeted by a long line-up hell-bent on preventing her from approaching. The tree was theirs, the intruder unwelcome.

Docile, indeed... But, if all specimens turned out to be as uncooperative as this herd, that little she knew wasn’t getting her anywhere–––and was off-limits all the bloody same.

The light in her eyes slowly rekindled. What had been beaten into submission slowly began to shine again. She had a vital task to accomplish, a test she would have to pass if even one cell demanding painful continuation still remained inside her.

It would have been so much easier to malign the person burdening her frail shoulders with such a gargantuan task, wallowing in self-pity, cursing the world for her unfortunate fate. But she did none of that.

For the first time ever, she was exposed to genuine concern the day before yesterday. Or at least Kassmera believed she so did. It wasn’t so much a topic for brainstorming as it was a choice. Her choice, to be exact.

“Revenge isn’t it either. Maybe in the past, but now no more.” Kassmera laughed eerily and sat down where she stood, not intending to move any time soon in either direction. “Not all dead are worth it. My true parents…

Strong yet warm hands and a fragrant bosom are all I remember. Then blood. Warm too. Uncle… was as warm as the mountain’s peak in deep winter, cared less for me than that and would’ve seen the burden sold if not for the foreman’s fancy.

My love… almost died to their machinations time and time again. And dear step-brother, no. Evil cousin… all he had in mind was ascending in the realms of the wickedly powerful at any cost. Was he wrong?”

Kassmera pondered the question for a moment. “This I cannot say,” she concluded, unaffected by either the rowdy crowd in front of her or her lack of judgement.

The woman took note only of what she really knew, things from her memories that defined who she was and why. “He was not always like that. It began... yes. It was the impossibility of his wish that caused him to change.

Hereditary shackles imposed by birth were too strong for him to break. He had hardly any choice but to accept. It broke him? No. When he got the cultivation formula...

That’s when he changed completely. So...” Kassmera laughed at her ridiculous situation, which gave her unlimited freedom to make her own decisions.

“Is it now my turn to change?” Her words had nothing to do with the monstrosities watching her in the distance, waiting to ruin her day if provoked.

She described what had long fermented in her heart and now burst forth uncontrollably. External intervention allowed the floodgates to open, releasing her from most of her shackles and giving her freedom she’d never experienced before.

A sudden thought revealed this was no longer the person she remembered being–––that useless part of her that feared change like the whole damn rest of the world. Freedom had a price.

By following intuition, Kassmera increased her efforts, re-examined what she’d struggled so much to bury, and reattached the shards of her broken heart.

As she wrestled with the task at hand with no one nearby to consult or follow orders except for her weary mind, another ailing part of her also crumbled.

Kassmera would come to understand only much later that what so did were her own self-imposed limitations. Those confines, pushed upon her by the indifferent others, imposed by her unhealthy life so far, kept her as a slave to the brutal indignities she’d endured before.

She realised what a reeking pile of shit she was in the past. No! Worse... Coming to terms with her findings illuminated her future path, showing her the windy route she must follow for herself–––the direction she wants to take.

There was an evil alchemist at that time who was too busy with the hard-to-find ingredients he saw delivered each day to waste a minute thinking about the woman he found hopelessly lacking.

Her shackles weighed her down so much that breaking free seemed impossible. Metamorphosis was a fancy word only the ignorant used lightly.

For he himself had yet to succeed. In the belief that Kassmera was already dead inside and not the sharpest tool in the shed, he had given her some measly advice and basic information as a gift for her most important trial to date.

The alchemist almost forgot about her, as did the State. The lively watchmen spared her no second thought because a soulless puppet could at most find herself a qualified scraper. One that would finally end it all.

Despite the low probability, metamorphosis began amid an agitated herd of grasshoppers, but no one was alerted, not even the individual in question.

As humans tend to keep things to themselves till the point of no return–––name it false pride, vain hope, unbridled arrogance or simply the lack of proper people to consult–––voicing the problems out aloud for once provided the impetus needed, pushing what had been suppressed for various reasons to the very forefront of the mind.

Put differently, it made what was perceived as a passive lurker active and–––thus–––an issue for the brain to handle now. It was very challenging work the woman did without knowing.

One that required a daring nature unlike any other. The herd lost coherence when it faced Kassmera’s emotionless laughs, disfiguring smirks, and bizarre one-woman show.

As the unrest spread, the leader in streamlined, neon exoskeleton had to step in to defend its herd. Even so, facing the intruder in front, it was unable to muster any strength.

It perceived no malice from the intruder. Within those crystal clear hazelnut eyes were no intentions of harm or conquest. No, that also wasn’t right.

The grasshopper king toiled. It took a few tentative steps forward, retreated as if the ground below was too hot, circled around the outer perimeter of its herd yet forever dared not approach.

Then it was over. A spark of imperative might ignited within the crystal clear eyes, from the central part of the iris. The newborn spark was neither tangible nor offensive, but it made the insects feel inferior like never before.

Eventually, the forest dweller could no longer stand this oppressive feeling any longer and closed in, one step at a time. The woman shook her head, focusing a dreamy gaze on the incoming threat.

The grasshopper king stopped. It was forced to. There was no way it could approach any further. It was spellbound by the presence of an entity that was superior to all it had ever known.

“You! Yes, you.” Even Kassmera was surprised by her imperative tone of voice as she addressed the insect. She soon forgot about it as well. “Carry me!”

The grasshopper acknowledged the order. It was sure that any attempt to exploit or slight her would come at a terrible cost it could never bear. In one big leap, its two powerful forelegs lifted the weak woman to its back. “This way; up there.”

After almost missing the target because of excessive inertia, Kassmera finally settled on its back and spoke her piece. After that, they vanished like the wind, following her hazy intuition.

So began a wide ride across the various floors only kept afloat by giant vegetation. She spent days searching for her final destination without finding even a hint of it. Yet Kassmera wasn’t discouraged.

During that time, the grasshopper king took care of all the woman’s needs. She didn’t even need to ask! Whether it was fruit, drink, or a place to sleep, the insect provided it all.

In one of those hours of searching for her true self, she found a clue that could turn the process of metamorphosis to her advantage.

Atop a random tree, fate guided her steed to the answer: The most magnificent animal she’d ever seen, observing the approaching stranger as she did it.

Golden hooked beak, bright eyes like black onyx beads searing holes through those daring enough to get lost in them were the first peculiarities Kassmera noticed.

An alert, dainty head tilting this way and that, colourful plumage on the upper side and an unassuming brownish hue on the underside of the sprinkled feathers became apparent as she let her gaze wander downwards.

From there down to the ground she saw some more: A bulwark, feathered chest, shiny black wrinkled feet as big as an arm, a saggy fold of skin at the ankle, three thin and slender toes forward and one back ending in sharp talons hovering above branch level.

The glorious predator, destined to look down upon all the lowly forest dwellers that were but prey to its hunger and thirst for flesh and blood... had a problem. It was misery incarnate regardless of all the glory it exuded.

The bird was ensnared in a mixture of old webbing, ripped climbing plants and strangely twisted knags. Together, these formed a nigh-indestructible cage from which escape on its own was but a fever dream.

Blood smears adorned its breathtaking majesty, proof of fruitless struggles past. Perhaps as a result of its own desire for freedom, perhaps out of a sadistic notion of a nightmarish predator... What Kassmera knew for sure was only the origin of this golden blood.

That and the similarities they shared. The cage cut deep, causing wounds to fester and scratches to bleed profusely as the bird awaited death with grace. And that was all that mattered! It shouldn’t be...

The bird surveyed her in awe in return, stared deeply into her hazelnut eyes, let out a silent screech and then closed its own eyes as if that little exercise was already the most its depleted reserves could handle.

The sight of such splendour dying a wretched death pained her. At the same time, it provided Kassmera with the answer she had so painstakingly searched for.

For the next few minutes, the woman gnawed on her underlip, rubbed her lower belly in vain, turned circles in the little space surrounding her, frowned some more.

Then she laughed liberatingly, a bold thought crossing her mind. Once perceived, it did not leave her, it only gained prominence, consuming what little was left of the yes-woman of the past.

Power and all that... she refused to give in. This meant bowing her head unconditionally to the ideas of those harlots who were too fixated on their views. Kassmera wouldn’t do the same. She was done with that!

Then she noticed brownish, fluffy and baggy plumes protruding here and there from its brilliant plumage, filthy and unsightly like an abandoned child’s diaper.

Rubbing her lower belly so much the sense of comfort spiked, the woman thought some more, feeling increasingly more anger at what she saw.

Then Kassmera’s half-baked idea blossomed into a beautiful flower in her mind, so dazzling her hazelnut eyes glowed like torches. Although the unjust world had robbed her of the most precious treasure, this did not mean that Central had none left.

On the contrary, there were too many treasures unattended, even scorned! Those she may unconditionally love mustn’t be strictly of her bloodline! No rule stated such foolishness.

Even if fighting such man-made evil was heresy, if there were countless obstacles, the woman wouldn’t mind seeing the whole brutal world burn!

Kassmera was familiar with this kind of pain and helplessness. It was humiliation and indignity that no precious treasure was supposed to endure. Not under her watch.

Yet precious conviction was only one ingredient of change. The woman now grasped what she was so sorely missing. In a blink of an eye, her realisation hit her hard, and she was atop the grasshopper and heading down the way she had come.

All Kassmera left behind was a peal of genuine laughter, gentle, kind, and motherly majestic. And a formless indication of her nascent force of will.

Clues that added a pensive tinge to the tired bird’s intelligent eyes that opened for a split second then shut the next. There was still hope, it seemed.

The juvenile hawk had waited so long, it could spare a few more days. It was a big hawk, after all. It had met an angel. Fate had made its choice. So... what did it have to fear, exactly?

End of Part IV