Terrible cold. Burning hot. Agonizing pain. Three states he often felt in his brief moments of lucidity. No matter how he felt, he was always sweating, short of breath, wishing for the aches to go away. A single move was too much for him to handle. His mind kept him unconscious so it wouldn’t break under the strain. He was already at his edge.

Anything could have broken him.

Day, night, dawn and sunset, time flew by with each blink of the eye. His moments in the waking world steadily increased. Some were spent staring at the wooden ceiling. Oftentimes, he saw his caretakers, a young girl and boy who always came as a pair, a woman who sat there quietly, and a girl somewhere around his age.

Kieran grabbed ahold of those moments. Unable to keep his eyes open, he strained his ears and brought up questions to occupy his mind. He focused on his dreams, using them to stop from slipping back to sleep. He never could fight it. Exhaustion was much too strong.

Dreams came and went, fading too quickly for him to understand. Pieces, fragments, puzzles he struggled to put together. Of what appeared most, enough times even he could recall them, were Belezan’s death shriek and the way the chain shook as he strangled the older man to death. Not only those horrific moments, but also his face, and the faces of those he left to die at the castle. His mother, his father, his brothers…

The mental strain stirred him from the clutches of sleep, but wouldn’t allow him to wake fully. It kept him restrained, tormented in a prison of his own mind. He could feel himself thrashing and at the same time, his breathing quicken as sweat soaked his clothes and his sheets. Between the pain wracking his body or the anguished thoughts, he preferred the former, but he wouldn’t be granted that wish.

After long episodes that brought him to the brink, a familiar tune chased away those dreams. The voice was a bit lower, a bit firmer, a bit more jaded, but no less kind than the one he knew. He drifted back to sleep, even as he mustered every bit of strength to open his eyes and see the singer of that tune.

When Kieran finally came to, he was in a bed pushed into the corner of a small room with a single window left open for the warm early summer breeze to come through. It was blinding, and for a moment, he wondered if he were still in a dream. He could see for miles and miles away through that one small opening.

He was still alive.

His stomach growled and he left in search of the people who had saved him. The halls were wide and long with numerous sliding doors. His bandaged feet fell easily on the soft straw matts and he found reliable support from the wooden beams separating each room. Breathing was a bit difficult. An audible wheeze followed each intake of air. His arm still throbbed, though now it was wrapped in bandages and forced straight with sturdy sticks.

Bright light shone from ahead and he trudged toward it, not because of the light itself, but because of the melody around the corner. The aches in his feet didn’t bother him so much anymore. He leaned less against the walls and began walking with more haste. It was a flute. The notes lingered in his ears, in the air. The tune shook and reverberated as if the person was on the verge of tears, until it rose in pitch, their voice was unable to hold back the sorrowful howls, only to fall again.

Around the hallway led to a space large enough to fit eight rooms like the one he’d woken in. Decorations were setup and hung all around, a temple lay at the opposite end, but he ignored it all. Beyond two open doors was the source of the music.

When he stepped outside, all the pain faded away. His sight was overwhelmed. As it adjusted to the light, he saw the stretch of the sky, its vastness as it wrapped around the world and gawke, only to be shaken the next moment when a brilliant riot of colors flooded his vision as hundreds of flowers swayed in the morning breeze. A girl with long pitch black hair and a single white lock, danced at their center. The cloak around her shoulders made her seem like an ethereal being, a creature of fey not meant for the world. She twirled as her fingers on the flute. A ripple accompanied her next step. A large pond that reflected the endless sky, sat still in the circle of colorful flowers, and she was the center.

Her eyes were closed as she danced across the surface of the water, her soft round nose flaring at the start of another note. He couldn’t look away. It was like a moment in a painting, like the perfect frame captured in a flurry of camera shutters, or the lingering memory of a dream far too enchanting to forget.

Then, her eyes opened. She saw him and the melody stopped. In an instant she fell into the water. Kieran was shaken out of his stupor. He tried to run to her but his legs buckled. Though it was wide, it wasn’t very deep. She got up and trudged back to shore, her thick white robe and blue skirt soaked with water.

“A-Are you okay?” he asked as she walked by.

She shot him a glare and squeezed the water out of her clothes, “You shouldn’t be getting out of bed with those wounds.” Nothing apart from her narrowed eyes gave a single hint of emotion. A chill breeze didn’t stir a single shiver from her drenched form. As she took off her cloak she called out two names, “Kazuki, Michiko.”

Seconds later, a young man and woman rushed out from the hallway. They were around Kieran’s age, maybe a bit younger, and wore a matching pair of low hanging gold earrings that did not fit with their dull colored robes. “Miss Nagi,” they said in unison. She pointed to Kieran. The young man, Kazuki, grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet while Michiko left and came back with a towel.

“It has been a while since you’ve last fallen in, Miss Nagi,” said Michiko.

She didn’t look at him but he knew it was his fault, so he kept his eyes focused on somewhere else. Nagi took the towel and wrapped it around herself before heading inside without another word. The two helped him to the room he woke up in. “How are you feeling?” asked Kazuki. He was checking on the splint while Michiko left to grab something.

“I’m feeling fine. Rather than that, where am I?”

“You are in one of the major villages of Mist Mountain, The Village of Stillwater. You were found at the foot of the mountain nearly two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks!?”

Michiko returned with a water basin and small towel, “Yes,” she said as she set the basin down and handed the washcloth to Kazuki. “You were on the verge of death, exhausted in both body and Essence. Had the subjugation team found you any later, then it would have been too late.”

Even after killing and abandoning Belezan, he survived by the skin of his teeth. The skin around his wrist wasn’t raw anymore, but if one looked close enough, they’d notice the difference. Michiko stepped out of the room and, despite his protests, Kazuki wiped him down. He’d worked up a sweat making his way outside, which cemented all he needed to know about his situation. He was in no condition to leave, not that he knew where he was going.

“Rest. You may be sick of staying in bed but tomorrow, Lady Amaya will show you around the village should you be ready. It is a great honor to have the matriarch of one of the divine bloodlines personally guide you. I know not why she has insisted, however, please be mindful of your manners,” he said as he draped the washcloth over basin’s edge and left.

Matriarch of one of the divine bloodlines? From his rudimentary knowledge of Mist Mountain, there were only five main tribes. Were those the bloodlines? Bloodlines of whom? The original rulers or founders?

After wracking his thoughts while laying on the bed, he eventually fell asleep. The next morning, Kazuki and Michiko were there up and early, checking in on his condition. After confirming he could at least walk without straining himself too much, they gave him a change of clothes. Once he changed, they led him outside where a woman who looked too young for the aura of elegance she radiated stood.

From the back, he saw her long black hair tied into a bun, and the straightness of her posture that allowed for the floral pattern on her white dress to fully show. When he saw her, he was instantly reminded of the girl, Nagi. She seemed more friendly, as she showed a slight smile, “Hello, I am glad you are well enough to walk with me.”

“No, I’m grateful for you taking time out of your day for this.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It is not very often we find someone sleeping at the foot of this mountain. There is much to see, but worry not about straining yourself. We have ample time,” she said. With a gesture, she dismissed Kazuki and Michiko, and guided him toward the village. He was surprised at how close to the base the village was, but it didn’t make his stomach feel much better, or his legs for that matter.

The place he’d been staying in was located on an elevated part of the area separate from the village below. The slope was easy to go down, with half of the path being of natural use and the other half being steps.

Though they called it a village, it was on the larger side for the towns in Kheonyth Kingdom. It had a large body of water toward the east side where the village folk filled their pales, and a number of flowers were also blooming at its edges. As Lady Amaya showed him around the tightly packed village, most adults nodded their heads in show of acknowledgement. Out of the ones who acknowledged her, a group of five or so men in half masks with painted smiles stood out the most. They all carried spears and shortswords at their sides.

“Who are they?”

“They are our protectors,” Lady Amaya said, “With their masks, they call upon our god’s power, much like the blessings of both Kheonyth’s and Marharden’s. As we are the village closest to the entrance to the mountain, they are tasked with its patrol.”

“So they’re the ones who found me?”

“That is so,” she said as she led him through the bustling streets. At the center of the village were four large boards filled with messages and drawings. Most of the messages were carved into wood and were less than complete sentences. It seemed like job postings, like the adventurer boards he dreamed of long ago. The majority of them were for mundane tasks like, gathering flowers or hauling some caught fish.

Lady Amaya took one of the wooden blocks that was tied to another block inside a piece of white cloth, “We shall complete this one, if you do not mind.” She showed him the message and it read, ‘Please deliver to temple for summer festival.’

“They can’t deliver it themselves or is this a tradition?”

“The temple is a fair ways away. A significant trip for the elderly. Are you still feeling well enough to accompany me?”

“Well, I’ve felt worse,” he covered his chest and looked at his feet.

She laughed, “I can imagine. At least now you are breathing properly.”

The temple was much further away than he thought. The village was now obscured by a forest of trees and he felt his heartbeat quicken, unsure if the cause was the journey or the scenery. Finally, a temple guarded by two masked statues wielding glaives came into view. Red and blue colors were intertwined, spirling up the supporting pillars that held up its thick and curved tiled rooftop.

Two bells streaked in their respective colors of red and blue stood opposite each other, sandwiching the path leading up to the temple itself. Its doors were slid open and a few monks and priestesses were tidying the grounds. Lady Amaya greeted the younger ones, and deftly avoided the older ones whenever she could.

Bad relationship?

Multiple paths were laid before them, and she took the one to the right. It led to another board, wider than all four at the village. Looking further ahead, Kieran recoiled as he saw a single white lock of hair.

“Afraid of my daughter, are you?”

He’d already guessed they were related. “No, uh, we just had a strange first encounter.”

“I have heard. It is not often my daughter interacts with someone her age aside from Kazuki and Michiko, even less so a person from beyond the mountain,” said Lady Amaya as she opened the white cloth and tied the wooden block inside to the board.

Kieran watched Nagi. She had knelt by the edge of the pond. Her hands were pressed to her mouth, clasped tightly with all fingers interlocked. Her eyes were closed like before and she seemed lost in her prayer. Lady Amaya, after tying the block to the board, recarved the writing and set aside the request block.

“Here,” she said, handing him the carving tool and a new wooden block. As soon as he touched it, he felt a surge of Essence, he felt the Flow within it.

“A vaear… tool?”

“Yes. With that tool, it is said that one’s wishes may reach the other side.”

He looked at the block and tool for a moment before handing it back to her. “I don’t think I have anything I want to write.”

“Is that so?” She took the tool but left him with the block. He held onto it awkwardly as she wrote down her wish and went to stand next to her daughter. She clasped her hands together for a moment, then switched into the usual prayer where her palms and fingers were all pressed together.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked.

“First, to pray for the wish I delivered. Second, to pray for my own,” Lady Amaya looked at her daughter, “Nagi, have I not told you to refrain from visiting the temple so often?”

Nagi stirred from her prayer, “I cannot ignore my duties, Mother. The festival is arriving soon.”

“It is still a moon away.”

“All the more reason for my focus.”

Lady Amaya sighed, “I see. Please be careful with the subjugation of the langquart.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Also, please guide our guest back. I must speak with the temple head.”

Nagi didn’t answer, but Lady Amaya left anyway.

“W-wait! What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, holding up the wooden block.

“I am sure you have a wish of some sort. Hold onto it until the festival. I hope my daughter will treat you well,” she said with a sly smile.

He watched Lady Amaya walk away and when he turned around, he saw Nagi staring at him with her cold dark eyes. “You,” she said bluntly. “What is your name?”

Right as he was about to say 'Kieran', he saw his reflection in the pond. Something about him was different, different enough where he had to look again. It had to be her magic... Remembering the dangers of letting people know his identity, he said, “I’m... Ren.”

“I see. I’m sure you are aware of my name. I am Nagi. I shall watch over your recovery, per the wishes of my parents, but do not get carried away. I do not have time for idle chatter.”

He sighed as she started walking back toward the temple.