Dex slowly opened his eyes, his eyelids heavy, as if bound by thousands of invisible weights.
The first thing he saw was not the sky, nor the ground, but an old wooden ceiling, rotten and dripping water through its gaps.
His body lay on an itchy straw bed, wrapped in a thin cloth smelling of medicine.
His wounded legs were neatly bandaged with soft fabric, the wounds on his legs even felt healed, but the marks remained red, as if his body refused to be healed.
Dex tried to remember why he could end up here, but no matter how hard he fought, the only thing he could remember was the voice and footsteps of someone.
As Dex was about to stand, faint footsteps were heard from behind the wooden door, the door creaked softly before revealing an old man, with white hair while carrying a bowl of warm soup in his hands, his face full of wrinkles and his hair completely white.
"Ah, you're awake it seems" The man approached while placing the bowl of warm soup on the table.
Dex stared at him without doing anything.
"Stay lying down, don't move too much" he said while slowly sitting beside Dex's bed. "Lucky I found you before your wounds completely rotted."
Dex stayed silent, his tongue wanted to speak but no matter how hard he tried it stayed stiff, before a sound came out of his mouth.
"Thank you"
The old man smiled faintly before continuing. "It's alright, it's already my duty as a healer"
Silence filled the room, only the sound of creaking wood, and the wind slipping through the cracks of the wall.
The old man spoke again "It feels awkward if we haven't been introduced, people call me Ronan, a healer in this village."
Dex reflexively replied. "I'm Dex"
Dex looked away.
"Nothing is left" he muttered.
Ronan didn't answer, he just slowly stood, took a dirty cloth from the bucket in the corner of the room and wrung it out.
"Come on don't say that, I once thought so too" he said after a moment.
"I used to be a palace healer, serving nobles with hands covered in gold gloves, healing the wounds they caused themselves through war and greed"
Dex glanced at him briefly.
"And then?"
"And then one day, I finally realized everything, all my mistakes at that time, I saw them squeezing the people dry, and openly committing corruption, my heart couldn't bear the guilt, and eventually I chose to leave"
Dex wanted to reply, but his throat felt dry, he took the bowl of soup, drank it slowly.
The bitter taste touched his tongue, but he continued, for the first time in days, his body accepted something other than sorrow.
---
Night came, Ronan slept in his chair, while Dex sat staring at the fire in the small furnace.
Shadows on the walls moved, dancing like memories that refused to leave.
He remembered his mother's face, his father's smile, his younger sibling's laughter, everything felt distant, like another life that wasn't his.
Tears almost fell, but he held them back, crying wouldn't change anything, Dex knew he had to keep going, and accept it.
But in that silence, he heard something outside, footsteps on wet soil, not heavy like Ronan's, lighter, more trained.
Dex sharpened his ears, the sound stopped right in front of the door.
Ronan suddenly woke up, his eyes wide open. "Stay quiet" he whispered quickly.
He grabbed the wooden staff nearby and walked toward the door.
From outside, a heavy voice echoed, followed by loud knocking.
"Healer Ronan! We know you're inside! Open the door!"
Dex tensed, the tone was not one of seeking help, but a command.
Ronan didn't answer, he just glanced at Dex briefly, signaling him to stay silent.
The knocking turned into kicking. The door shook violently. "Open up, or we'll burn this place!"
Ronan finally sighed and slowly opened the door, outside, three men stood wearing ragged clothes but armed, one of them wearing a steel chest plate with a crest Dex recognized, a wolf devouring the moon
The Vaundrel Family
"What are you here for" Ronan replied cynically.
But as if used to it the soldier replied. "We're looking for remnants of rebels from Taren Village, they say you often shelter the wounded, we're here to check, if you're hiding them, you know your punishment."
Ronan glared at them. "Even though I knew you were corrupt, I didn't expect the Vaundrel family to be this rotten"
"Watch your mouth Ronan, we could consider that an act of insult" they replied harshly, pointing the tip of a sword at Ronan's neck.
"Stop talking!" One of the soldiers who had been silent finally spoke, pushing Ronan, forcing his way in. "We'll check ourselves"
They entered without permission, Dex who was still weak forced himself to sit, his breath ragged.
Ronan glanced at him briefly, his eyes giving a sharp warning to stay quiet.
But one of the soldiers noticed that small movement.
He approached, and immediately his gaze locked onto Dex in the corner of the room.
"Hah, what's this?" he said mockingly. "A young man badly injured, where are you from, huh?"
Dex stayed silent, trying to hold back the anger beginning to burn, but the emblem on their chest made his blood boil.
Ronan tried to divert attention. "He's just a boy hurt on the road, he has nothing to do with…"
"Shut up, old man!" the soldier snapped while kicking the table.
The porridge spilled onto the floor, shards of the bowl scattered.
Something inside Dex broke at that moment.
He tried to stand, but his body wasn't strong yet, one of the soldiers laughed seeing him tremble.
"Look at this kid, he can't even stand, yet he dares look at me with those eyes"
The soldier's hand shot forward, grabbing Dex's collar and lifting him halfway.
Ronan stepped forward. "Let him go! He's still"
One hard punch hit Ronan's face, the old man fell to the floor, blood dripping from his lip.
Dex was furious, his heart boiling, its beats heavy, fast, and loud, each thump carrying deep anger.
Dex lowered his gaze, seeing shards of the bowl on the floor, one of them sharp, he remembered how he once hunted, tearing into prey, delivering fatal strikes.
At that moment, Dex's hand reached for it without thinking, in an instant blood splattered from the neck of the soldier who grabbed him.
The soldier screamed, clutching his torn neck.
The other two stepped back in shock, Ronan stared in horror, not because of the event, but because he saw Dex's now empty eyes, the same as the night his village burned.
"Kill him!" shouted one of the soldiers.
But Dex moved first, his body driven not by strength, but by brutal survival instinct, his adrenaline now at its peak.
He lunged into his opponent's chest, grabbed his hair, and slammed his head into a wooden pillar.
Blood gushed again, The sound of metal from a falling sword hit the floor.
Dex grabbed it with trembling hands, turned, and pointed the blade at the last soldier standing.
"You crazy kid!" the man shouted while stepping back. "You'll die for this!"
Dex stared at him with cold eyes. "Die, hahaha, I love death just as you love life"
One short, fast, sharp swing.
When all was over, only the distant sound of rain could be heard again.
Dex stood among the three corpses, his body drenched in blood, his breath heavy, the sword in his hand shaking, not because of fear, but because his body was exhausted from holding a burden he only now realized was still alive.
Ronan slowly stood, looking at him with old, sorrowful eyes.
"Son…" he whispered softly. "You've walked a path you can't turn back from"
Dex looked at his own hands, then the sword now wet with his enemies' blood.
For the first time, he had taken someone's life, it felt like all the soup he had eaten earlier wanted to come back out.
"I know that" Dex said quietly. "I'll leave when the sun rises, thank you for your help so far old man"
Ronan let out a long sigh. "You know what this means, Dex?"
Dex looked at him. "Yes"
He gripped the sword in his hand tighter.
"It means, I cannot die now"