Becoming The Villainess’ Acolyte

Three days had passed since the challenge, and the pressure of Elara's words echoed in my mind. "Two weeks." I had barely improved since that fight, and frustration simmered within me.

My magic felt clumsy, uncooperative. Every time I tried to focus on building a barrier, it wavered, like trying to catch water with my hands. Healing magic came to me like second nature, but this this was different. I wasn't used to molding my magic into something strong and defensive. 

I sighed, kneeling in front of the small herb garden behind the orphanage, fingers gently brushing the delicate leaves of the mint plants. The smell was soothing, a familiar comfort in the midst of my growing frustration.

The soft sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the earth in shades of gold and green. Normally, tending to the herbs would calm my mind, but today, not even the fresh scent of rosemary could quiet the storm brewing inside me.

I wasn't progressing fast enough. I had been practicing whenever I could, but training alone felt useless. There was no one to challenge me, no way to push my limits.

Elara was the only one at the orphanage who knew how to use magic, and I couldn't ask her to help me again not until the fight. The others didn't have any magic, and while they encouraged me, their lack of understanding left me feeling more isolated. 

I needed a change. I needed to do something more than just summoning weak barriers in the yard where the children played. I was stronger than this. I knew I could be, but staying here in the confines of the orphanage was holding me back.

I thought of the vast forest beyond the town, where creatures roamed, where danger lurked. A spark of excitement and fear lit within me. What better way to train than to face real danger?

But there was one problem Elara had forbidden anyone from entering the forest without her permission.

It wasn't just for safety; it was a strict rule that no one had ever broken. Elara feared the dangers that lay beyond the familiar paths, especially after a few years ago when monsters from deeper within had strayed too close to the town's borders.

The thought of sneaking away without her knowing made my heart race, but if I didn't find a way to challenge myself, I would fail.

My fingers toyed with the leaves of a basil plant, absently plucking at the green stems as my mind raced through possible plans.

There were always times when Elara wasn't watching early morning, when the fog still clung to the earth like a shroud, or late in the evening when she was busy putting the younger children to bed.

I could slip out, just for a little while, test myself against whatever creatures I encountered, and return before anyone noticed.

Would it be dangerous? Absolutely. But wasn't the world dangerous too? Elara had said herself that if I wanted to leave, I needed to be ready for what was out there. What better way to prepare than facing those dangers head-on?

I glanced over my shoulder toward the back door of the orphanage. It was quiet now, the children playing inside, their laughter faint but joyful. Elara was likely with them, helping with dinner preparations. This was as good a time as any.

Taking a deep breath, I wiped my hands on my skirt and stood. The plan began to form in my mind, piece by piece. I would leave just after sunset, when the shadows were long and the night had just begun to settle.

I could say I was tending to the herbs, maybe gathering some for tea. No one would question that. And once I was in the garden, it would be easy to slip into the woods unnoticed.

The forest loomed beyond the edge of the garden, the tall trees swaying gently in the breeze. I stared at it for a long moment, the familiar stretch of woods that I had always been told to avoid. It was like a threshold to another world, one filled with unknowns.

My pulse quickened at the thought. Maybe this was reckless, but I needed to do this. I needed to prove to myself that I could handle what was beyond the orphanage walls.

That evening, I ate dinner quietly, nodding along to the conversations around me, but my mind was elsewhere. My heart beat a little faster every time Elara glanced in my direction. Would she be able to sense what I was planning?

Could she tell that I was itching to slip away? But she said nothing, her attention mostly on the younger children, and I took that as a good sign.

As dusk settled and the sky turned a deep shade of indigo, I excused myself to the garden, claiming I needed to gather herbs for tomorrow's tea.

Elara barely looked up from where she was brushing little Nia's hair, only nodding absentmindedly. My breath hitched as I stepped outside, the cool evening air hitting my face. This was it.

I grabbed a small basket, stuffing it with a few sprigs of mint and lavender to make my story seem convincing, and then, after one last glance toward the orphanage, I walked toward the forest.

The trees were silent as I approached, towering above me like dark sentinels. The path into the forest was well-worn, at least at first, but beyond that, it turned wild and unpredictable. I hesitated for a moment at the edge of the woods, my fingers tightening around the handle of the basket.

This was the furthest I had ever gone, and a part of me whispered that I should turn back, that this was a terrible idea. But the louder part of me the part that craved growth, strength, and adventure drowned out that voice.

I stepped into the trees.

The forest felt different at night. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, and the sounds of the orphanage faded into the background, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of night birds.

I moved cautiously, my senses on high alert. Every crack of a branch underfoot made my heart skip a beat, and my fingers twitched at my sides, ready to summon a barrier at a moment's notice.

The deeper I went, the darker the forest became. The moonlight barely pierced the thick canopy above, and I had to rely on my memory of the few times I had been here during the day to navigate.

It wasn't long before the sounds of the forest seemed to grow quieter, as if holding its breath, and an eerie stillness settled over the trees.

I stopped, my heart racing, listening. Something wasn't right. I could feel it an unnatural tension in the air. I crouched down behind a large tree, pressing my back against the rough bark as I tried to calm my breathing. Had I gone too far?

Maybe this had been a mistake after all. I wasn't ready for this, not yet. But it was too late to turn back now. 

That's when I heard it a low, guttural growl, followed by the sound of twigs snapping under heavy paws. My blood ran cold.

Peering around the tree, my heart lurched at the sight. A wolf. A normal one, by the looks of it, but no less dangerous for that. Its fur was dark, blending in with the shadows of the forest, and its eyes glowed faintly in the dim light as it sniffed the air. It hadn't seen me yet, but it was close too close.

I pressed myself tighter against the tree, trying to think. What now? Should I try to summon a barrier? Or should I make a run for it? My body tensed, adrenaline flooding my veins as the wolf sniffed closer, its head swiveling in my direction.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I swallowed the lump of fear rising in my throat. The basket of herbs lay forgotten at my side, the mint and lavender crushed beneath my clenched fists.

There was no turning back now.