"Burn the village!"
"Ahh!" Lance shouted as he jolted awake.
He found himself lying in a small wooden room — a modest space with a single bed, a chair, and a desk scattered with books. The wooden floor creaked as he stepped down. A sudden sensation of being watched ran down his spine. He looked around — left, right, even behind him. No one.
He walked to the door — the only path out — but it wouldn't budge.
Am I imprisoned? Did Sunflower mean it literally when she said she'd spare my life but not my freedom?
Lance frowned, trying to figure out his next move. Sitting in a cell for the rest of his life was not an option.
He sat at the desk, flipping open the books, hoping to learn more about where he was — maybe even pretend to be less suspicious. But the pages were filled with unfamiliar symbols, a language he didn't understand. No images. No hope.
Guess I'll just have to wait... though I'm sure someone's watching me. That presence wasn't a fluke.
Tresia Village – Chief's Headquarters
In a spacious, well-lit room, two people sat cross-legged on a floor mat while servants brought in trays of food. One was Sunflower, carefully eyeing the dishes. Across from her sat the Chief of Tresia Village, Dawn Fright — a tall, sturdy man with a peppered beard and mossy green eyes that mirrored Sunflower's. He wore a loose grey shirt and white trousers.
"Only two chickens? When I was your age, I brought home ten," Dawn teased with a smirk.
"They're too damn fast, old man. And don't forget the real reason," Sunflower shot back, her eyes still on the steaming food.
"Well, your 'reason' just woke up," he said, grabbing a piece of meat and biting in.
"Good. We'll eat, then question him before he passes out again."
Dawn nodded, chewing. "By the way, what's this guy's deal? Doesn't look strong. Pretty average. You sure you're not being overly cautious?"
"I found him with just the clothes on his back. No gear, no tools. He couldn't have made it here alone."
"Maybe he lost his gear before he ran into you," Dawn offered.
"But then why give a fake name? Why not recognize the place he claims to be from?" she fired back, shoveling rice and chicken into her mouth.
Dawn sighed. "Still not enough reason to toss him in the cellar. After we eat, let's question him and send him on his way. If he's innocent, you'll compensate him — fair's fair."
"Ugh, fine," Sunflower groaned.
The Cellar
"Burn it all..."
Lance snapped awake again, having drifted off from sheer boredom.
That voice again. What the hell is it? Why do I keep hearing it?
Burn the village... Was it symbolic? Literal? Just a mental echo? He didn't want to believe it was a sign. He couldn't burn a village — even if he wanted to. But it had started the moment he entered Tresia.
So maybe if I leave, the voice will go too...
Voices stirred outside. Keys jangled. The door creaked open.
Sunflower entered first, followed by Dawn. He filled the doorway with his height and presence, arms crossed, studying Lance.
"This isn't a hotel room. You do realize you're in a cellar?" Dawn began.
Lance nodded.
"And you know why you're here."
"I assume it's because I'm an outsider and I seem suspicious," Lance said calmly.
Dawn nodded. "That's right. We believe you're lying. But if you tell us the truth, I'll personally guarantee your freedom — and compensation for your time spent here."
"You leave me no choice, then," Lance sighed. "I've lost my memory. I didn't tell Sunflower because I didn't want to seem even more suspicious... but that clearly backfired."
Outside the door, one of Dawn's men held a glowing cube. A second passed — and the cube emitted a faint green light.
Dawn grinned. "So that's it. Told you, Sunflower, not to overthink it." He turned back to Lance. "Sorry for the inconvenience. You'll be compensated. Take a week to rest, if needed. All your travel goods will be provided — free of charge."
Lance nodded in acknowledgment.
"But remember," Sunflower said sternly, "don't ever reveal the location of this village."
"No problem," Lance replied.
Dawn gave one last glance at the glowing cube — still green.
Good. No blood needed today.
Outside the cellar, as Lance stepped into the fresh air, the voice struck again.
"Burn the village!"
"Burn the village!"
"Burn the village!"
Lance dropped to one knee, clutching his head.
"Are you okay?" Sunflower asked, startled. "Do you need a doctor?"
"Yeah... I think I might," Lance muttered, forcing himself back up.
"What did you just say?"
They turned — and there stood Dawn, eyes cold, expression hard.
He thinks I mean it... "It's the voice," Lance explained quickly. "It's been repeating the same phrase since I arrived. Does this happen to other people here?"
"A strange voice?" Dawn looked at Sunflower.
There was a pause. A subtle shift in the room's air.
Dawn's face darkened.
"Perhaps... it's good to be overly cautious sometimes." He looked at Sunflower with steel in his voice.
"Sunflower. Take his head."
...
It's those green eyes again.
Where have I seen them before?
Oh yes, I saw them in those plains just hours earlier, as I watched Sunflower slit the throats of two people, taking their valuable belongings without a care in the world.
If you were to ask me whether I was scared of her, I would have replied yes without hesitation. That speed, those skills—she was so fast I couldn't even see her. And yet, when Dawn was halfway through his sentence—"Sunflower, take hi—" she struck without mercy.
SWISH!
Unlike before, when she was fighting those two and felt confident—certain she could overpower them—now, surrounded by uncertainty, she wasted no time. She didn't hold back a single ounce of strength as she swung her dagger across my throat.
My head, along with the entire cellar, seemed to split in half. As it dropped to the ground, it bounced a bit before landing just beneath Dawn, who reached out to grab my bloody head, blood still pouring from my neck.
"Why the change of plans?" Sunflower asked, beginning to clean her dagger.
"It's a long story. I'll tell you after you bury his body beneath the trees," Dawn replied, his expression stiff.
"Beneath the trees? Isn't there a chance someone could have used Detection on him? That could expose our village. Wouldn't burning the body be better?" Sunflower asked, clearly confused at how foolish the situation appeared.
"Just do as I say. After five days, you can do whatever you want with the corpse. Just bury him somewhere I can observe the grave from my study desk," Dawn said, his face showing that he knew exactly what he was doing.
Sunflower wasted no time. She immediately grabbed the bloody, motionless body and headed for the spiral staircase.
Still holding Lance's head in his hand, Dawn turned and walked to his office. He placed the head inside one of his safes, locking it with three separate locks. Through his office window, he saw Sunflower instructing a group of men to dig a pit.
Dawn relaxed slightly in his chair. His mind raced.
Why did it have to happen during my time? Hopefully, it was just a bluff—otherwise, things could turn bad.
He glanced at the safe, his sharp eyes focused. That focus was broken after a few seconds by a knock at the door.
"Come in," said Dawn.
Sunflower clicked open the door and sat across from him, the office desk between them.
"This is information only revealed to those who ascend to Chief. You understand what this means?" Dawn asked in a soft but serious tone.
"You want me to be Tresia's next Chief," Sunflower replied, connecting the dots.
"Yes, but not yet. You still need training—and clearer thinking," Dawn said, giving a faint smile.
"Clearer thinking?" Sunflower asked, confused.
"Yes. Today, you killed two people, but didn't think to bring one back for questioning," Dawn replied.
"I tried, but that man… he drank some kind of poison while I was handling the woman. I had knocked him unconscious before dealing with her," Sunflower tried to explain.
"Then you didn't actually knock him out," Dawn said bluntly.
Sunflower fell silent.
"Anyway, that's not why I called you here. Is his body buried?" Dawn asked, turning serious again.
"Yes. Why are you being so serious?" Sunflower confirmed.
"It's going to be 300 years since the incident. As you know, I won't be alive by then. This report was passed down by our ancestors. Though it's written like a story, it's a verified account."
Sunflower remained silent, ready to hear what the report said.
Dawn opened one of his drawers and took out a document.
"I ran to the town. There was a witch approaching. As I reached the market, people were already gathered around her. The witch looked beautiful and shocked the crowd with magic never seen before.
She decided to stay a few days. Many illnesses were healed. Many lives were saved. New methods of obtaining food were taught.
The witch was invited to the palace—to my father—who was supposed to grant her a handsome reward. Greed was the root of the conflict. It was the reason for her imprisonment. She wouldn't grant my father's wish. What was that wish?
I wanted to see the witch. I wanted to see her magic. I snuck into the cellar without my father knowing.
I got around her cell and heard prayers. I couldn't understand the language. I tried to get closer, but that alerted her. So I stopped hiding and faced her. She was uninterested in me—until I carelessly revealed that I was the Chief's son.
She asked what I wanted.
I looked at her condition. Her bright red hair was covered in dust. Her clothes were those of a prisoner. Her eyes were dead. All hope had been lost in them.
Maybe if I'd said something different, the outcome would've changed. But even after seeing what my father had done to her, and the state she was in, like a careless child I asked her to show me magic.
I remember those cold eyes she gave me. But not long after, she smiled and said, 'Sure. Show me your hand.'
Like the naive child I was, I extended my arm through the bars. She grabbed it and wouldn't let go. It hurt. I screamed—but she didn't stop. She took out a knife she had hidden, and without hesitation, ripped my arm off.
I fell, screaming. The pain was unimaginable.
The guards were alerted. They rushed to the scene. The witch grabbed my severed arm and put it into her mouth. I couldn't believe what I was seeing—she swallowed it whole.
The guards scrambled for the keys to retrieve it, but the woman had begun chanting:
'I sacrifice thee arm and my soul. Curse this land. Curse its people.
They shall suffer disasters. They shall die from hunger. They shall watch as their loved ones are slaughtered before them.
They shall watch as their houses burn. Their crops burn.
The entire village—burned. And they shall watch.
For thou shall one day come to thrust this cursed land again.'
As she finished her prayer, she fell to the ground, motionless. She had died.
Even after cutting her open, my arm had disappeared without a trace.
Be wary of the curse. Be wary of strangers. Limit the reach of our land. Refrain from seeking help, Find a way to break it "