A blur dashed through the gloomy forest, skillfully winding around trees and bushes. The leaves shook softly in the night breeze, making the dim shadows on the ground shift and dance like a living creature. All around, tall trees stretched up outwards, as if trying to reach up and grasp the glowing sapphire from sky with their branches. The sound of light footsteps soon passed away, leaving only the soft whispers of the wind behind.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Not even the chirping of birds could be heard under the light of the blue star. The woods were eerily silent except for the sound of a muted whistling. Quiet enough so that you could only hear it when you focused on it, but loud enough that you couldn’t ignore its presence.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A bit later, louder and heavier footsteps approached as a group of twelve dirty humans came into view. Cumbersome and awkward, their feet snapped dry leaves and kicked away small rocks as they came to a stop. A leaner man, who wasn’t as bulky as the rest of them, slung his bow over the quiver on his back and bent down towards the forest floor. After examining the area for a bit, he straightened up and brushed his hands on his clothes, then gestured in the direction that the first person just went off in. Although one of the other humans hesitated, he was quickly persuaded by his other companions as well as the man who seemed to be the tracker. Soon, they too started moving, and once again, the sound of footsteps faded away into the night.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

After they left, the only sound was the rustling of the leaves as the air blew past them, and nothing else except for the silence that pervaded the woods.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Indeed, there was nothing else.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

And the soft whistling remained unbroken.

Panting as he just barely ducked under another tree branch, Calvin kept on running at his current pace. For the past six days, the group had kept on following his trail, despite multiple attempts to mislead them. It was likely that they had their own hunter, far more experienced than himself, for all his tricks were seen through. Whether it was laying down false trails or setting up small traps to buy time, it had all seemed ineffective to them. So, the only thing Calvin could do was to try to keep ahead of them and hope that he could outrun the group.

However, he was soon faced with a serious problem.

After spending so much time heading to and coming back from the lake, he had used up all of his provisions and water on the fourth day after they started chasing him. Normally, he would try to hunt or pick edible plants, but he obviously couldn’t do so at the moment. He couldn’t hunt because it would take time to skin and cook the animal, but also because it would attract predators. At the moment, he didn’t think he had the option of being held up by an animal. He also couldn’t pick plants because it was going to be winter soon, and many of the edible ones were either already picked or eaten by squirrels and birds.

The only food he had left was a bit of dried jerky, not even enough to fill up his palm. He had already dropped all the unnecessary articles on him to lighten the burden that he had to carry. One thing he didn’t drop though was the bag of waterbloom, for obvious reasons. He still had to bring it back for the villagers, who by now were likely in an even worse state. Although he was not bold enough to think he could fight the group of men, he also still carried his shortsword and bow for safety's sake in case he had to fight a beast. Now though, he wished he had dropped it, but something inside kept him from doing so. Calvin didn’t know why, but everytime he pulled the sword out, he couldn’t muster the will to toss it away.

Years of practicing with it, years of taking care of it, years of hoping that he would be able to kill his first monster with it. How could he simply throw it away like a piece of garbage?

The answer was…. he couldn’t.

So he didn’t. And he kept on carrying it.

He had been able to increase the distance between him and his pursuers during the first few days and even almost lost them. But, once he ran out of food and started slowing down from exhaustion, they started closing in on him. He could tell this because they were loud enough to hear from far away, boots snapping branches and making a loud racket. Whenever he heard those signs, he would upright himself from whatever he was doing and bolt off in a surge of energy.

Right now he was heading towards the lake, which was his option for a multitude of reasons.

One, he needed water quickly because he had run out two days ago. His mouth was parched, and everytime he took a breath his throat felt like it was being pricked by small needles. Whenever he blinked, he felt his eyes burning as they rubbed against the eyelids. Whenever he sat up, his head felt dizzy as if he was going to faint.

Calvin was sure, if he didn’t get water soon, he would die from thirst. That is, if he didn’t die from something else before that. His only option was to go towards the lake to refill his water flasks. Not only that, he could also grab some plants to eat on the way. If he remembered properly, there was a small group of edible flowers there, and although it wouldn’t be the most filling of meals, there should be enough to last another few days.

The second reason was to try and throw his pursuers off his trail. There was still that large piece of cloth that was still buried by the shore. His plan was to make it seem like he had swam into the lake and left on a different side, while in reality, he would be hiding in a tree nearby. After that, he hoped that they would shift their attention onto the large piece of cloth which he would dig up and lay on the shore a bit farther away from his location. Hopefully, by the time they realized the trail was fake, he would have a lead on them and be heading back to the village. If he could get just a tiny bit ahead, just a few hours ahead of them, he could get to the village first and take shelter with the other villagers. No matter how strong the bandits might be, they wouldn’t be able to take on over a hundred people armed with pitchforks with just the twelve of them.

‘As they say, safety in numbers.’

All that he had to do now was successfully get to the lake first and set up his ruse before they got there. Ducking under another low hanging branch, Calvin estimated how long it would take until he got to Lake Erador. It had been around six days so far, but because of the delays of setting up traps and other hindrances, it would probably take at least another day or so until it came into sight.

He wanted to rush there as fast as he could and begin setting up the ploy, but he restrained himself. Learning not to be impatient and controlling yourself was something that he had learned from when he was going back. Fainting from exhaustion like before would certainly result in his death, so he held back his urge to sprint there and continued to pace himself.

Patience, he told himself, patience. The time would come eventually. For now, he slowed down his speed to a jog in order to conserve his strength. He would need it to get back to the village as fast as possible when running away from the bandits, and the faster he ran, the sooner he could get the herbs back. Taking a tiny bite out of his single remaining piece of jerky, he continued on.

A few hours later, he decided to take a short break to rest his sore and weary body. The only time he’d felt this tired before was when he was trying to flee away from a large bear that he happened to cross upon. Well, that and his stupid experience of almost dying from exhaustion a few days ago. At the very least, the group of men should take at least half a day or so to catch up, so there was enough time for a small respite. Slumping down against the trunk of a wider tree, he closed his eyes and let his head hang down, gasping for breath.

Oh! How wonderful it felt to let all your muscles relax and just sit there, not having to run, not having to look out for hidden branches, not having to do anything. Sitting there, time slowly passed as he let his body recover.

Resting for thirty minutes.

Turning into sixty minutes

Waiting until ninety minutes.

Calvin would’ve kept resting longer, but a small sound woke him from his light dozing. Blinking, he turned his head around and strained his ears to listen for the noise.

Absolute silence.

Thinking that it was just his imagination, he prepared to get up and start moving again when the sound appeared again.

A very, very soft crunching sound. Just like the sound of a boot pressing down slowly on the dirt.

Totally alert now, he turned his head from side to side as he slowly got up, trying to determine which direction the sound came from.

There it was again! Now, he had confirmed that sound seemed louder when his ear was facing towards a large group of bushes off to his left. Silently unsheathing his blade, he took slow, cautious steps towards the area. He had nearly reached the undergrowth when there was a small swish and he felt his skin grow cold. He sidestepped instantly but was too late to completely avoid the dagger that came flying out.

Staggering backwards, he quickly turned around and started sprinting away from the man now stepping out from the bushes. Pressing his free hand to the deep cut on his shoulder that was bleeding profusely, he gritted his teeth as agony spiked through his body, lurching dangerously as he ran. Soon though, his limbs started feeling heavy and sluggish, as if they were tied to bags filled with sand. Hobbling now, the woods around started to get blurry as sweat fell into his eyes.

Slowly, his pain addled mind pieced together the pieces. The way the man crept up, the speed at which he threw the dagger, and his feverish body. Without a doubt, that man was experienced in thievery and killing from the dark.

It was certain. The dagger was poisoned with something, tipped with a paralyzing substance.

The fear and panic that I should’ve been feeling was suppressed by the drowsiness that was invading my exhausted mind and body.

‘Sleep...how wonderful it would be to sleep…’

I stumbled and tripped over an unseen root sticking out of the ground and landed harshly on my palms. As my hands made contact with the floor, I choked in pain as the injured shoulder had to suddenly support the weight of a body.

‘...ugh... it hurts….’

Limbs stiffening and locking, my entire body was being overcome with the lethargy that crawled up from the ground into my body. Even as I struggled to get up, weakness was seeping in like the chill on a rainy day.

Tired, so tired.

Cold, so cold.

‘How bad can it be to rest…just a moment…should be fine...’

‘................’

Relaxing my arms, I allowed the last of my strength to leave and escape. Letting my body to fall down on it’s side with a small thump, I lay down on my uninjured shoulder. Feeling my mind beginning to fall into a stupor, I struggled to roll onto my back. Wheezing from the effort, limbs sprawled out to the sides, I stared up into the sky, a pool of blood slowly forming under my shoulder.

‘...Laetitia…’

Right there, in the roof formed by overlapping branches and leaves, a small opening that was clear of all intrusions. A perfect circle, through which the light of the blue star shone through faintly. A perfectly framed picture, a perfectly captured moment.

Laetitia, the goddess of happiness and joy. Looking up at that shining, azure sun shining down on me, I felt happy. I felt joyful. I felt content.

‘I will die today…’

Mind wandering, eyes slumping, the thought crossed and lingered in my mind, but I felt nothing towards it. A grave in the forest which I had been hunting in my entire life. What was wrong with that?

Passing away underneath the light of that blue star, passing away under the watch of the goddess of happiness. What was wrong with that?

Vision blurred by tears, thoughts distorted from poison, Calvin stared up at the blue sky as the blood continued to flow freely.

But,

Losing my life as an ordinary villager instead of an adventurer that I wished to be. Could I lie down and accept that?

Perishing on this tiny village, this obscure corner of the continent, never knowing what the outside world was like. Could I lie down and accept that?

And,

Dying before I could go home, dying before bringing the medicine back…dying without Abby knowing…

How could I?

The answer, which was now clear even in my dazed state, removed the lethargy like a bucket of cold water.

Mustering the meager amount of strength left, I slowly opened my eyes.

Yelling at my body to move as I yelled at my mind to live.

Forcing myself to sit up as I forced my breath to stabilize.

Muffling my screaming as my shoulder screamed in pain.

Pulling my mind out of the darkness as I pulled my legs toward me.

Dragging on my will to survive as I dragged up my arms.

Trying to stand up straight as I stood facing against death.

Looking at the future as I looked for a way to escape.

Taking a single forward as I took a few more breaths.

Another step…

And another…

And come crashing down like my hopes for survival.

Heart beating rapidly but softly, skin freezing but sweating, I was dying of blood loss, slowly but surely.

In a dim forest, under the light of a blue sun, a collapsed, despairing human blacked out in a pool of blood.

I crept along the forest floor, closely following the trail of splattered blood that led me on. Holding two daggers in both of my hands, each one coated in a fluid of the needleflower plant, I slowly headed forwards. Although the fluid extracted from it only caused a light stiffness by itself, a combination with several other common poisonous plants could turn it into a considerable substance that could inflict a moderate paralysis. It was quite effective, but could only be sold for cheap prices as any cure to the plants used to make it would drastically weaken its effects. Nevertheless, it was something I could make by myself cheaply, so I had applied it and used it on both of the old daggers that I owned. Of course, I always kept an antidote on myself in a small wooden case from the possibility of an accident happening.

Creeping forward, I listened carefully for the sound of breathing of the boy I had just injured a few minutes before. If his condition was any indicator, it should be loud enough to hear from a distance of about ten feet or so, just about the same as the current visibility range. To be honest, that little guy was a bit impressive, being able to stay alive for so long in this forest, I thought silently.

Well, for a peasant at least.

The team that I was a part of was chosen to stay behind to take care of any stragglers that would come back to the village after the main group had left. All because we were the slowest and killed the least out of all the groups. We had camped on the fringe of the woods for a week, and came together just as we were about to leave. That was when the boy had popped up and we had started the chase after him. He was quite slippery and almost got away several times, but with the combined effort of myself and our hunter, Brian, we were able to keep relatively close to him the whole time.

Even setting down several traps and tricks, he was quite the sneaky one. Those fake trails were quite shabby though, one look at how obvious they were and anyone with experience tracking could see that they were made on purpose. Many of the traps were harmless too, like tripwires and falling stones. Well, except for a few. If Leon had reacted just a bit slower, then he probably would’ve been killed or seriously wounded by the arrow that was dangling far above them, hidden among the trees.

Although they were always on his trail, they never could get a glimpse of him, and it seemed like he was always just out of sight. Since the group was so loud, it was likely that he was running away every time he heard us coming. Six days of this, six shitty days of chasing after him. If not for Garrett and Brian insisting on them completing the ‘mission’, then they would’ve just ignore him and went back. They were only supposed to camp out for a week, and it turned into a whole goddamned week. In the end, I had volunteered to go ahead on and kill him myself since it would mean that we would get paid faster.

Although it was more dangerous, what could a hungry, tired, farmer boy do to me? The only problem was that Garrett insisted on me bring back his head, to prove that I had actually killed him and not just pretend that I did. Really, just because he used to be a noble didn’t mean that we had to listen to whatever he had to say. Standing a bit farther away from us, rarely speaking to us even though he was the same as everyone else around him. Acting so high and mighty, I was quite tempted a few times to slit his throat when he was sleeping. But I didn’t. There was no point in taking a risk and sticking out your own neck just for self satisfaction. How stupid, honor and pride wouldn’t get you anywhere in this world, a foolish thing it was to have. If not for that small bit of talent he had with his sword, all the others would have sneered at him too.

Cursing Garrett silently under my breath, I continued to prowl without making any noise. Being able to move quickly and quietly in the dark, now that was an especially useful skill to have.

Not some stupid ‘honor’.

Taking a slightly alternate route, I was moving off along the side so that I wasn’t directly following the trail, but always keeping it within sight. This was just in case that he had hidden himself somewhere and was waiting for me to come up to him. Even if he was just a village peasant, even if he was half-paralyzed, it was better to be safe than sorry.

As the smell of blood grew stronger, I started to move slower and the soft sound from my moving got even fainter. Soon, I saw the brat, laying face down in a pool of blood, breathing extremely hard to hear. Although it was likely that he was not faking and nearly dead, I threw a few rocks at him just in case. The only response I got was a few pained grunts. I was just about to go take his head when the sound of rustling came from a bit farther away. I stopped, and listened closely, hoping that it was just a small animal and not a bear or wolf. Although I was quite confident in killing regular humans, a large predator would be too hard for me to handle safely.

The sound came closer and closer, and right before my eyes, a person walked out from between the trees. At least, most of it looked like a human.

What kind of human had silvery-white skin?

What kind of human wore no clothes in the middle of a forest?

What kind of human had no genitals?

And, above all, what kind of human had those kinds of eyes?

Turning those unfathomable eyes towards me, who was frozen rigidly in place, the thing looked at me, up and down.

And then it nodded.