I woke up screaming.
I was lying in my bed, drenched in sweat, my back wrapped in crude bandages. The pain was real. The smell of herbs filled the room.
My mother burst through the door, tears streaming down her face.
"You're alive!" she cried.
Alive.
That night, I learned three things.
First, the man who stabbed me told everyone I had been killed by bandits.
Second, no one was punished.
Third, every time I felt anger, fear… or love, something inside me faded.
Later, when I was alone, the fox spirit's voice echoed in my mind.
"One rule," she said. "You may only borrow my power when death is near."
I clenched my fists.
Death had already found me once.
It wouldn't be the last time.