People scream and run in every direction. The heat and smoke pouring from the buildings make the air unbreathable. The village is burning—everything around me is on fire—while I remain still, curled up on the ground in a narrow alleyway, hands pressed over my ears. I'm crying.
Suddenly, a hand grabs my arm firmly and helps me to my feet. Despite the chaos, my rescuer's voice is gentle, and his face just as kind, though urgency flashes in his eyes. He hands me a piece of cloth to press over my mouth and tells me to run. I obey at once, doing my best to keep up with his long adult strides, when a deep voice suddenly echoes from far behind us, addressing the panicked villagers.
— Do not fall back! This is our one and only home! This is where we were born and have always lived, and it's here that our ancestors are buried! If we abandon them now, how will we face them in death?
Other voices echo in agreement, seemingly moved by those words, but the young man gripping my wrist doesn't stop—far from it, he picks up the pace.
— Idiots, he mutters. If only they had listened to me… I have to save as many as I can. Hurry, Cyan!
I'm trying! I push my body beyond its limits, forcing each stride to gain even a single inch. My body is used to running—I can feel it—but every breath is so painful that I consider holding my breath. I know that if I stop breathing, I won't be able to keep up with the young man's pace, and right now, what scares me most isn't the fire—it's being left behind. So I force myself to open my mouth, even if it feels like a thousand needles are stabbing my lungs.
My eyes sting too, so I only open them occasionally, just enough to make sure the hand holding mine still belongs to the young man—and not to some figment of my imagination. Therefore, when he suddenly stops at the edge of a river, the firmness of his grip is the only thing keeping me from toppling in.
— Come! Hurry! urges a woman standing in a small boat.
— Cyan, I have to go back to the villagers, says the young man, crouching in front of me, his voice still as gentle as ever. It's my responsibility. You may not understand that now, but one day, you will. I love you Cyan, he adds before pulling me into a hug.
— Hurry! We're out of time! the woman insists, ready to release the rope tethering the boat to the shore.
The young man lifts me with his strong hands and sets me down inside the floating box. At once, the woman lets go of the rope, and we begin to drift slowly away.
— There are two things you must never forget, Cyan! calls out the young man as he grows smaller and the warmth of his hands slips beyond my reach. The first is that you must become stronger—stronger than anyone else. Promise me that!
It seems like a tear rolls down his cheek, but my own tears won't stop flowing, blurring my vision, while the distance between us keeps growing. He tries to tell me a second thing, but I can't hear anything anymore, and finally, he turns around and runs off, leaving me behind. Yes, that's it—he's leaving me. The one I trusted completely, the one whose presence was my only source of comfort. He's abandoned me.
I scream until my lungs feel like they're tearing apart, and for the first time, I hear my own voice as I wake up with a jolt.
I'm sitting on a bed, my face drenched in sweat, and hit by a splitting headache. I try to move, but none of my muscles respond. Panic sets in, and I force myself to budge, only to be stabbed by a wave of pain that shoots through my entire body. Just then, Kana walks into the room and rushes to place a hand on my chest, gently but firmly pushing me back down.
— You don't think you've done enough already? You've probably got cramps in every muscle, so just stay in bed, will you? she says while placing a second pillow over the first so I can keep my head elevated.
— This place… could it be…?
— This is Sylvheim's infirmary, she explains before turning her back to me. Mai brought you here after finding you unconscious in the forest. What the hell happened to you?
— I think I was training, when suddenly my body felt light and… I felt like I was flying, I say, still half-dazed.
— Humans don't fly. Especially not when they can't even lift an arm, she presses against my bicep with the tip of her finger, sending a sharp jolt of pain through me that makes me wince. Got it? Then stop spouting nonsense and eat.
I try to catch the apple she tosses to me, but since my arms no longer seem to belong to me, it bounces off my forehead and rolls across the bed. In my helplessness, I suddenly realize that the strange sensation I have in my stomach since I woke up is none other than hunger gnawing at me from within. I remember that I haven't eaten anything at all yesterday and cast a longing glance at the apple just a few centimeters away.
— Um… by any chance, were you planning to cut it up nicely and help me eat it?
Kana stands by the window, seemingly deep in thought. I strain my body to try and reach the apple just a few centimeters from my face, but it's no use. My body refuses to respond, to the point I start doubting whether it's even mine anymore. Seems like I overdid it last night.
— Tell me… you really have no idea when you might need to fight, do you? Kana asks calmly, still gazing out the window.
I give up on the apple and stay silent. I know exactly where she's going with this, and I wish I could agree with her, but deep down, I know that the decision isn't entirely mine. I carry responsibilities I never asked for, forced upon me by the ghosts of my past, and it's hard to let go of them when they're the only remnants of my precious childhood.
— Then why are you in such a hurry? she continues, finally turning to face me. You could become a Shinzui if you wanted to. You'd be treated well. You'd have a family, friends. You'd train every day and get stronger—slowly, but surely.
Outside the window, a gust of mystra wind rustles the branches where birds try to nap while young wolves play roughly in the underbrush.
— …Thanks, I finally say.
— Don't get the wrong idea! she quickly looks away. It's not like I said that because I want you to join us.
— Deep down, I want to join this Geika too. Everyone here welcomed me with open arms and accepted me for who I am. It's a wonderful place where I could finally have a family.
— Then why—
— But I can't stop thinking that I still have a family out there somewhere… and that they're constantly in danger. If I were to take my time, have fun, and end up arriving too late… I'd never forgive myself.
— Let me teach you something, she says, a trace of emotion in her voice as her gaze drifts back outside. Sometimes, a person's home is a hell of bottomless darkness. There are homes where parents, instead of protecting their child, hurt them over and over. There are people you truly never want to see again—blood related or not. And yet, in many cases, it's impossible for a fragile child to escape that abyss. Even for those who manage it, there's no guarantee the world beyond will be any kinder. So let me give you one piece of advice. When you find a loving home that accepts you for who you are, don't let things like blood ties get in the way.
With her eyes lowered now, she looks more vulnerable than a wounded cub abandoned by its pack. It's clear she's lived through the pain she's describing. No wonder she gets upset seeing me chase after my past while she's done everything she can to bury hers. My mere presence must stir up memories far too heavy to bear.
— You… I didn't know… I'm sorry, I say awkwardly.
— No. I should be the one apologizing, she replies to my great surprise before taking a deep breath. I took my anger out on you when you knew nothing. How could you have known… And besides, who am I to tell you what to do with your life?
She gently places her hand against the windowpane, lost in thought, and remains silent for a while.
Not daring to interrupt, I wait for her next words, my eyes fixed on her. She seems locked in an inner struggle.
— Maybe Mother is right. Maybe it is time to finally forget. But to do that… I have to face my past one last time, she says, exhaling a long sigh that weighs down the air in the room. What I'm about to tell you isn't a story—it's a battle, she says, turning her head to look me in the eye, revealing a terrified expression.
Think of it as a fairy tale, and imagine that I'm only speaking to myself, because from this moment on, I've forgotten you're even in this room. And… if you value your life, don't ever repeat what you're about to hear to anyone.
I swallow hard and grip the edges of the bed as though I might be thrown from it. My eyes are now locked on her profile, strangely motionless, like a ghost that will vanish the instant the golden rays of morning stop caressing her outline. She begins to speak, and I'm immediately struck by the tone of her voice.
Slightly higher than usual, yet still recognizable—it's as if the young woman had given way to the child within her.
« When suddenly the heart steps forth
The earth stands still, listen
As the glisten of countless raindrops
Drench it in a sacred awe,
And in this deafening quiet
Where all things tremble, yet remain still
Furtive and beyond time's reach
A red thread weaves between two hearts »
Once her story is over, I feel drowned in absolute silence. Even the birds of the forest seem to have gone into mourning. I can even hear the sound of my own heartbeat.
∼ Or could it be… hers?
I suddenly feel sick, and realize that I had stopped breathing. I don't know how long I was holding my breath, but clearly longer than I ever could have managed consciously.
∼ If her story put me in this state, I can't begin to imagine what she's feeling right now.
I expected to see tears gliding down her cheeks, but they're as dry as a glacier. Ironically, it's my cheeks that suddenly feel wet. To my great surprise, Kana finally turns toward me and approaches, a pocketknife in the hand. Though panic rises in my throat and my whole body screams danger, the best I manage is a pathetic two-centimeter shuffle toward the exit. Kana seems usually unpredictable, but in her current state, she's a volcano that could wipe everything out at the slightest tremor. She advances slowly, chin lowered just enough to hide her eyes behind her bangs. Once she's close enough, she places one knee on the bed, leaning over my torso as she slowly brings the blade toward my face.
∼ She's going to silence me now that I know her past?! It's not my fault I heard her story; I didn't even have the option to leave the room!
— Uhhh, didn't you say you'd pretend I wasn't here?! I plead, panicked. I swear I'll take your secret to the grave! If you don't believe me, cut out my tongue, but not my throat! Please, not the throat! I stick my tongue out pathetically, eyes shut tight to avoid witnessing the horror.
Suddenly, I feel the cold steel of the blade brushing against my face, tracing slow, deliberate strokes downward, until it reaches my throat. Helpless, I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter, mentally bracing for the pain, and when the unpleasant sensation of the blade at my larynx finally disappears, I wonder whether that's a good or bad sign. I slowly open one eye… then the other. My throat is still intact.
Kana is now sitting at the other end of the bed, completely focused on the apple she's peeling with reverent precision.
∼ Could all of that have been in my head? I thought at least my brain was still functioning…
— You're weak, she says without taking her eyes off the fruit.
It seems my current physical state was just the perfect excuse to change the subject. Not surprising, after she just shared something so deeply personal.
∼ I can give her that.
I find myself imagining that I'm the apple in her hands, my skin being stripped away, layer by layer. Oddly enough, that image triggers a spasm in my legs, finally moving. Maybe old Tak was right, my imagination can work miracles sometimes.
— You think you can fight in the state you're in? she starts with a harsh tone. You're covered in bruises and scrapes, a cramp in every muscle. The first time I saw you, your face was hollow from hunger and thirst. When I saw your legs shaking as you tried to protect me from the wolves, I thought it was fear, but now I get that you were just exhausted. You don't know how to fight, you have no special power, and you're not particularly smart. So how exactly do you plan to face your destiny under those conditions?
— You're not exactly sugarcoating it, I mutter. But… everything you said is true.
I look at my hands, grimacing as I try to close them and pain is shooting through every finger.
— I've been trying to look strong… but in the end, I just keep getting saved.
I'm pathetic, aren't I?
— Then why do you insist on living so dangerously? I became strong because I had to, to survive… but you have a choice! And even if your real family is out there somewhere, waiting for you, how do you plan to rescue them in your current state? she says, almost shouting, as cracks finally begin to show in her shell and her emotions spill through her voice.
— Even so—
— ONCE YOU'RE DEAD, YOU CAN'T PROTECT ANYONE!!
Her words echo through the room, where I am now all alone, making the silence that follows feel heavier than the sky.
∼ Seeing her so calm after telling me everything felt almost supernatural… but she was a volcano, after all, and I'm the tremor that made it erupt.
Though my body still refuses to move, I can feel it vibrating, as if fevered by something invisible. And there's also this new pain in my chest. Even the walls don't seem as solid as they did just moments ago, and I suddenly become fully aware of how vulnerable I am. I've always managed on my own… but right now, I'd give anything for a pair of warm hands to hold mine.
∼ Maybe Kana is right, after all. Solitude really might be the end of me. I think I've underestimated the world… in more ways than one.
— How are you feeling? asks a soft voice I would recognize among a thousand.
Mai stands at the entrance, carrying fresh sheets and a smile—more than enough to calm my heart.
— Mai! I almost shout, overwhelmed with relief at seeing her.
— Well, sleepyhead? Did you have a good nap?
In just a few seconds, this small woman has completely cleared the room of all the negative energy that had built up. She's the morning sun itself, though the pain in my chest hasn't gone away and prevents me from answering. Seeing my silence, Mai sighs, places the sheets on a chair, and sits at the edge of the bed.
— Please don't be too hard on Kana. She's… going through a rough time.
— When you say 'rough time,' are you referring to her entire life up to this point?
— What do you mean?
— Kana told me about her past, I admit, unable to meet her gaze. It's all my fault. I never should've come here.
— None of this is your fault! she says firmly, taking my hands in hers and looking me straight in the eyes.
— Mai? What are you—
— It can't be your fault. After all, if you came to Sylvheim three times in a row without even meaning to, then it means the threads of mystra are converging here for you. Your fate is already intertwined with ours, and you can't untie a knot of mystra… I think.
— Even if you're right. Even if I decided to stay here with you all, I would never abandon the mission that was given to me, and Clarence said that—
— Mother always overthinks when it comes to protecting her children. You can believe whatever you want, follow whatever path you choose, no one here will blame you for that.
— But just by being here, I've already hurt Kana, even though I owe her life. So if she wants me gone, I'll leave immediately! I say while struggling to sit up.
My whole body still feels like it's being stabbed by a thousand knives, but at least I can move a little now.
— Men really can be so stubborn!
Mai leans in, and before I realize what's happening, her lips gently touch my forehead. The unexpected contact freezes me in place and replaces the storm in my head with a vast, silent white.
— You really are hopeless, she says, gently pushing me back down onto the bed. If she didn't want you here, she wouldn't have gotten up in the middle of the night, in her nightgown, to go rescue you in the rain.
— What?!
— I tried to stop her, but she never listens to anyone. It's a miracle she didn't catch a cold. And why do you think she told you about her past, a past that only she and Clarence know about?
— Excuse me?!
Eyes wide, staring blankly, mouth hanging open, I'm now drowning in utter confusion.
∼ It wasn't Mai who came to rescue me?! Why would Kana lie about that? And more importantly, how did she even know where I was? Or that I had passed out in the middle of the night? And why did she suddenly decide to tell her story to me, of all people? There are so many questions I need to ask her…
— Oops… Maybe I went a bit too far… Mai murmurs, noticing the stunned state she's left me in. Listen carefully. In Sylvheim, people's pasts are a taboo subject. Everyone here is an orphan, and everyone's been through something—some worse than others, for longer or shorter—but no one talks about it. And no one asks. That's rule number one among Shinzuits. And between you and me, I always thought Kana was the least likely to ever open up. So consider yourself lucky, honored, whatever you want, but don't try to convince me she did all that just so you'd leave!
— I… I didn't know any of that, I say to myself.
— If a friend doesn't tell us the truth, then who will? she says with her mischievous smile, the kind that never fails to warm something deep inside me.
— A friend… I murmur, a sudden pang in my chest.
— I'll try to convince Mother, she says before walking toward the door. I'm sure she'll understand.
— Mai! I call out just as she's about to leave.
— Yes?
— Thank you so much! I owe you one!
— For that, you'll have to stay and live here, she says, doing that same smile again, as well as a little wink that hits right on target.
Once Mai leaves, the silence that felt so heavy just moments ago is now as soothing as a gentle breeze. If I close my eyes, I could almost believe I'm lying in fresh grass beneath the shade of a cypress tree. I suddenly notice, right at the edge of my bed and within reach, the apple Kana brought, peeled and sliced into quarters.
∼ When did she…?
I find myself staring at the fruit as if it were a treasure of immeasurable value. It may seem like an insignificant detail, but as a solitary traveler, I've always been the one to slice my own apples.
∼ Is this what family is about? People who help and care for you without expecting anything in return?
It's almost comical that such a simple gesture could make me realize something so profound.
— Living here… I murmur in a sigh. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay in one place for a little while.
I suddenly feel warmth radiating from a small spot on my forehead, right where Mai's lips had touched me, and I begin to feel strange.
∼ Have I always been this easily swayed?