Chapter 2

My vision blurred as tears welled up in my eyes. I hastily brushed the moisture from my cheeks with my palm, gritting my teeth to summon more strength to my legs, already as frigid as stone.

I can’t afford to be captured here.

It had been half a decade since my parents met their fate at the hands of the Black Wolf tribe’s Kennard during the war. Since that tragic day, my own people had held me responsible for our defeat, attempting to end my life. Consequently, I had fled and lived a life of seclusion ever since.

I had never remained in one place for longer than three or four months. Whenever I stumbled upon an abandoned hut or cave, distanced from any village or settlement, it became my temporary abode. During my stay, I strived to avoid encounters with others. My sustenance came from mountain berries and fish, and when it was time to relocate, I made my way along hidden mountain paths after the sun had dipped below the horizon.

As my clothing became too worn to wear, I would silently descend to the streets in the dead of night, pilfering garments left out for laundry and disguising my conspicuous red hair beneath a cloak and hood.

Every day brought fear, and at times, I wished I could willingly surrender my life into their hands. Today, I had just finished mending my ragged clothes with the needle and thread I’d managed to find, then laid down on a bed crafted from twigs and fallen leaves.

Individuals who approached me without even pretending to know me would suddenly throw a black bag over my head, striking me hard enough to send me into unconsciousness. Upon regaining my senses, I would be subjected to curses and merciless lashings upon my back, the torment relentless.

I had lost count of how many times I had awoken to such brutality, yet now, I found myself bound to a stake, awaiting the cruel embrace of flames.

〈…You must survive. There will come a time when you will become the dawn of a new era. So, even if the path is arduous until then… You must endure and live.〉

I couldn’t forget the last words my mother had uttered before drawing her final breath. Though I stood alone in this world, I was resolute in honoring my mother’s wishes. I couldn’t fathom what she meant by becoming the dawn of a new era, but it was her dying message, uttered amidst coughs of blood, that fortified my resolve. Each day I endured, clinging to the hope that one day, her words would reveal their meaning.

〈Instead, you must return when I come for you.〉

Who was that man? These words, a promise to return, were beyond my comprehension. Would he let me escape, only to chase me down later? If so, why set me free in the first place? No matter how much I pondered, it made no sense. However, this was not the time for such musings. The immediate concern was putting as much distance as possible between myself and the man or his kin, who might soon pursue and recapture me.

As snowflakes seemed to fill the world, my vision blurred alongside the tears welling up within me. I hurriedly tried to wipe them away.

“Ah.”

In an instant, the ground beneath me vanished, and my body was catapulted into the air. Soon, I found myself plummeting and tumbling uncontrollably down a hill of collapsing snow. The distinct scent of the White Fox tribe clung to my side, and screams were no longer audible. I struggled for breath and the ability to open my eyes, instinctively curling up and shielding my head with my arms.

Was this to be my inevitable end? If so, what of my mother’s wishes? Amidst my chaotic descent, a fleeting moment of laughter overcame me.

Ha, what purpose does it serve now? I might as well die like this.

As I plummeted, it felt as though I were descending into the depths of hell. Struggling to open my eyes, I whispered to myself, ‘I’m really dying.’ Before me, the yawning door of death began to materialize, vast and obsidian, hurtling toward me at breakneck speed.

Thud.

As I drew closer to the tightly sealed door of death, an excruciating sensation enveloped me, as though my entire body was being crushed, and my head mercilessly squeezed. Not a single sound escaped my lips, not even a feeble whimper. I was utterly immobilized, unable to move a single fingertip.

It’s warm.

The frigid chill, akin to countless tiny needles piercing my entire being, gradually relinquished its hold. In its place, a soothing warmth radiated from the crown of my head, eventually flowing down to my eyes, tinting my vision with a comforting crimson hue.

Accompanied by the sound of labored breathing, the scent of the White Fox tribe drew ever nearer.

This is my only escape.

It was a pitiable truth, one that filled me with bitterness. I felt resentment for the life I had been born into, a life that had led me to this harrowing moment.

Alright. Even if I die like this, whether they take me away and I die or I meet my end here, it’s all the same…

At that moment, as my eyelids hovered on the brink of closure, as though my very soul were about to take flight…

As the scent of the White Fox tribe gradually faded, a more potent and pervasive aroma enveloped me. Struggling to lift my heavy eyelids, I discerned a figure emerging beyond the door of death. This entity was shrouded in absolute darkness, save for its burning amber eyes that blazed like infernal flames. At every glance, it exuded an aura of death incarnate, a harbinger of doom.

I found an odd solace in the notion that this harbinger of death had come to claim me. I yearned to follow swiftly, eluding the pursuit of my own kind, even if it meant descending into hell itself.

“Take me… please…,” I implored, my words murmured while moistening my parched lips. Whether these words reached the harbinger of death remained uncertain, for I could neither hear nor see a thing.

***

Where am I? 

A faint glimmer of light appeared, only to vanish repeatedly. I lacked the strength even to lift a finger, and every attempt to open my eyelids was met with searing pain, a stark reminder of my existence.

Amidst this haze of discomfort, the crackling sound of burning firewood filled my ears. Suddenly, someone forcefully raised one of my eyelids, unleashing a blinding burst of light that pierced through my pupils, stabbing at my brain.

It hurts, I wanted to scream, but my voice remained imprisoned within me, unspoken. Moments later, my other eyelid was lifted, and the relentless light penetrated once more. I could hear a faint conversation, an older man providing guidance to a young boy.

I wanted to ask about my identity and whereabouts, yet my voice remained stubbornly absent. Instead, an overwhelming fatigue gripped my entire being, dragging me down as if I were sinking into the floor. The world of light and sound gradually receded, drawn into the abyss.

***

It felt like an unending cycle. I would drift in and out of consciousness, my eyelids gently lifted, and unfamiliar voices discussing matters while the crackling of a burning firewood persisted.

“You appear to be regaining awareness,” a clear voice finally reached my ears. As my vision slowly cleared, the face of an elderly man materialized before me. His hair, like his chest-length beard, was a muted gray.

Who are you? I blinked repeatedly, trying to discern his identity, but my efforts proved futile.

“Can you hear me?” His words echoed as if I were submerged in water, yet I managed to grasp their meaning and responded with a faint shake of my head.

The sound of his hair brushing against a thick pillow resonated in my ears. My movements were severely restricted, and even the slightest motion sent sharp pains coursing through my head, as if a weighty stone pressed upon it.

My limbs lay immobile, and a pulsating ache permeated my entire body at irregular intervals. Slowly, I managed to turn my head and inspect my surroundings. I found myself lying on my side, supported by substantial cushions both in front and behind me, and I could feel a bandage tightly encircling my head.

A gossamer-thin curtain cascaded from the ceiling, enveloping the vast bed, its sheer fabric tethered with a ribbon to a nearby pillar. Small lanterns adorned the walls, casting a gentle glow, while a roaring fire illuminated the opposite wall, situated at the foot of the bed. Within the dimly lit room, the interplay of light and shadow performed a captivating dance.

“Where am I…?” I murmured, but instead of a reply, the elderly man exchanged quiet words with someone unseen, bustling out of the room without revealing themselves.

“What’s your name?” the old man inquired, his upper body leaning slightly forward.

“Name?” I felt my brow furrow, my vision gradually sharpening to reveal the bed’s ceiling and the old man’s face more distinctly. Yet, an inexplicable sense of bewilderment still gripped my mind, like a struggle in the midst of profound darkness.

My name… My name…? The more I sought to recollect, the further the memories seemed to slip away, as if on the brink of losing my sanity once more.

“Perhaps you cannot recall your name?” The old man’s voice held no trace of insistence, yet an unspoken urgency and fear began to envelop me. My heart raced, my body temperature soared, and beads of sweat formed.

What was my name? I wondered in a frantic internal struggle. Why can’t I remember?

“Hmm,” the old man mused, toying with the end of his beard and tilting his head. “How about your age? Any memories of your hometown or family?”

“No, I don’t know,” I replied, my voice quivering and laced with tears. Who am I? Why can’t I remember? Where in the world am I?