∼ Why did I even save him from the wolves? Nothing forced me to. If I had let him get devoured, no one would have ever known that an intruder made it all the way to Sylvheim while I was in charge of the barrier. I'm sure Keros and the others would have gladly feasted on him. Though… he does look a bit tough to chew.
— Kana!
I jolt out of my thoughts, suddenly remembering that I'm kneeling before Mother, and about to be lectured. I grit my teeth and apologize as politely as I can, despite the lump of rage stuck in my throat. It took residence in me long ago and has never left since. Sometimes, I manage to forget it's there, but the moment something irritates me even slightly, it tightens around my larynx again. Then, the simple fact that I was able to forget its presence fills me with an intense anger, and I always end up losing control. The only exception is when Mother looks at me with her transparent eyes. My mind clears, and I regain my senses. Of course, I wasn't always like this.
∼ It all started that day! No, probably even before…
— I don't hold anything against you, so there's no need to get so worked up.
∼ Once again, Mother has read me like an open book.
— So… I'm not going to be punished?
— I know how seriously you take your mission. Do I seem like the kind of mother who would punish her most devoted children?
— No, that's not what I meant. Sorry, I'm just… confused.
— Relax, I'm only teasing, she says with a childlike smile stretching across her lips.
∼ It's not every day I see that kind of smile on Mother's face. Is it the arrival of the traveler that's put her in such a good mood?
— Mother, may I ask you a question? I stand up to face her.
— Oh? Why being so serious all of a sudden? Go ahead, my child.
— Do you really trust him?
— You mean the traveler? Are you doubting my abilities?
As her smile vanishes suddenly, I fear I may have upset her with my foolish question.
∼ Of course, she trusts him—she saw his soul and invited him to her table. But still, a traveler has no place among us, the ones society has cast aside. This family is all we have left. If I were to lose everything again…
— I understand your hesitation about letting a potential threat into our midst, especially when our survival is already so fragile.
— Then—
— But never forget this, my child. We are the sole architects of that fragility. We chose this way of life, and we must take responsibility for it. Tell me, Kana, what do you think of those nobles who cower behind their walls and look down on the peasants fighting for survival every day?
— I hate them. My blood will continue to boil, and my hands will never stop trembling until I have strangled every last one of them, I answer with calm and honesty.
These words were not driven by anger. They left my mouth as naturally as gusts of wind rushing through a breach in the mountains—sudden and sharp. I expect Mother to reprimand me for such words, which far exceed the limits of propriety, but she doesn't even flinch.
— Now tell me, in what way are we any different from those nobles, hiding away endlessly in this forest without a care for the rest of the world from which we are cut off?
— What?! That's—no, come on, that's completely different. You gave us a place to sleep and a family to protect, to those of us abandoned by the world.
— That's right. And it is because I opened my mind to the outside world that I was able to find you and save you in time. So why does it surprise you that I would wish to help a young man who has lost his way?
I stammer, trying to form a reply, but I can't find a convincing argument.
— The world may have abandoned you once, but that is no reason for you to abandon the world, Kana. I sincerely hope that one day, you will be able to forgive it.
∼ Forgive?! How could I? That word vanished from my vocabulary the day I lost everything… or rather, the day everything was taken from me. The day they took everything from me.
— You know very well that it's impossible, I clenching my fists so tightly my nails dig into my skin, hovering on the edge of my composure.
— Nothing is impossible for those who open their hearts. But let's set aside talk of vengeance for now. Don't you think you might be unfairly directing your hatred at this young man, who has nothing to do with your suffering?
— I don't hate him. Not particularly…
∼ No, she's probably right. Aaaah, this is infuriating. Why are Mother's words always so painfully accurate? It's as if she knows me better than I know myself. No… she definitely does. After all, I would be nothing without her.
— Or perhaps, she turns her head toward Sasha as if consulting her, could it be the troubles of a young girl in love?
∼ What?! What is she even talking about all of a sudden?!
— It is true that such matters are fitting for her age, Sasha continues as though making a medical diagnosis. I hate this way of speaking of her. The heart of an adolescent is as impenetrable as the path of the Vahna.
— By the fangs of a horned viper, you've completely lost your minds!
∼ Damn it! I lost my temper and even swore in front of Mother!
— Your cheeks are as red as your hair, Kana, Mother says in an amused tone.
— Have you forgotten my ability to detect lies? Sasha adds in that same neutral voice of hers, making it hard to tell when she's joking unless you're used to it.
— Pfff, would you please stop making fun of me?
— My apologies, my apologies, Mother says with her usual childlike smile. Enough teasing. If you feel neither hatred nor love toward him, then you won't mind showing him around tomorrow morning.
— You mean…
Sasha seems just as confused as I am. Then she shakes her head and sighs in resignation.
— What? Do you object to him staying the night? What kind of host would I be if I let my guest leave in the middle of the night?
— But, Mother! There are limits to how much trust we can place in this stranger.
— If, after hearing his story, you still don't trust him, then you can keep an eye on him during the night.
As frustrating as it is, if Mother has made up her mind, there's nothing I can do to oppose her. Only Sasha has that power, and she seems resigned as well. I accept, my voice making no effort to hide what I think of the situation, then turn on my heel before Mother notices the vein pulsing on my forehead.
Once I pass through the curtain, I stop to savor my anger. I don't remember when I started doing this, but it's become a habit. Every time I get angry, I feel strangely reassured, as if this familiar heat rising inside me is proof that I'm still myself.
Even though Mother took me in and gave me a place in this loving home where everyone pretends their lives are flawless, my anger is the only thing that truly feels like home. It was my sole companion when the world abandoned me. It gave me the strength to fight, to survive, to one day exact my revenge. It burns away my fears and doubts, and the thought that it might one day fade fills me with unease.
So, for now, I breathe, letting that heat consume my core and rise to my throat.
∼ My blade has not yet dulled.
— Was it really a good idea to leave this to Kana? Sasha's muffled voice reaches me through the curtain.
I know I shouldn't, but I, too, want to know what Mother is thinking, so I stay hidden and listen to their conversation.
∼ If this mysterious woman confides in anyone, it can only be Sasha.
— His mere presence is enough to throw Kana completely off balance, Sasha argues.
— That is precisely why I want her to handle it.
— You can be quite cruel sometimes. Is this some kind of punishment for earlier?
— As I've already said, I have no intention of punishing a child as dedicated as she is.
— Then why? You could have asked Natsuki or Mai—
— I want it to be Kana. It has been six years since she came to live among us. Don't you think it's about time she forgets, like the others?
∼ WHAT?! She wants me to forget?! I'm sorry, Mother, but I am not as weak as the rest of them. Rather than forget my pain, I would rather savor it.
— Kana's case is… different. And even so, I don't see how this young man could offer her the salvation we failed to provide.
— As you say, none of us have been able to save her. If this young man can awaken something within her, perhaps he will be able to carry away her sorrows, like the wind sweeping fallen autumn leaves.
— No offense, but the autumn wind heralds the arrival of frost. Aren't you afraid this could have the opposite effect?
— Your judgment is always thoughtful and wise, but sometimes, when logic fails, one must take a gamble on the unknown.
— Yours, however, is always obscure and senseless, Sasha sighs. And yet, for some reason beyond my understanding, it always turns out better than mine, she adds with a trace of frustration in her voice. I wish I could see even a tenth of what you see, but I have no choice but to follow you blindly.
— Your trust in me touches my heart.
— If I may ask a question, what did you see when you looked into his soul?
I was just about to leave, more irritated than ever, but that question grabs my attention like ivy wrapping around my ankle.
∼ Do I even have the right to know what Mother sees through her transparent eyes? She never speaks of it, to the point that it has become a taboo subject among the members of the Geika. And why does this even interest me in the first place? No matter what his soul is made of, I can't trust some weak, lost, and ignorant fool. Who knows what kind of influence he might have received in the city?
— You want to know what I saw in his soul? I swallow the lump in my throat and press my ear as close to the curtain as possible. A second one.
— What? What do you mean by that?
— Nothing more or less than what my words imply. There was a second soul hovering above his own, watching over him with a faint but genuine glow.
∼ A second soul?! That's utterly impossible. Humans are given a soul at birth, shape and color it throughout their lives, and return it with their final breath. A single incarnation cannot possess more than one soul at a time.
— But that's… absurd! Sasha exclaims, taking the words right out of my mouth.
— And yet, that is what I saw. Do you doubt my eyes?
— You know I don't… I understand now why you're so interested in this young man.
— I know someone else who doesn't seem entirely uninterested either, Mother suddenly says in a slightly louder voice—just enough for me to hear her clearly.
I blush with shame before bolting up the stairs at full speed, completely flustered.
∼ How could I ever think I could spy on Mother without her noticing?
Once outside, I take a deep breath to calm my thoughts.
∼ What's the point of thinking about it? Tomorrow, he'll be gone.
A wave of sweet aromas suddenly reaches my nose, soothing me completely. My stomach then speaks up louder than a wailing infant. Whenever I get angry, I always end up starving, as if my inner fire burns through everything in its path.
I pass by the kitchens and take the small staircase leading to the dining hall. As I push past the curtain of animal hide, I stop to take in the lively scene unfolding before me. Everyone is gathered around the table, laughing as Ishizora plays with the children.
∼ Or would it be more accurate to say that the children are playing with Ishizora?
He runs around the long, single wooden table that fills the room, a small creature under each arm, one clinging to each leg, another gripping his neck, and yet another perched on his head, gleefully tugging at his hair. The remaining children eagerly wait for their turn to ride this peculiar mount. The spectators clap their hands in encouragement, with Mai at the front of the crowd.
∼ Gosh, what's gotten into them? It's like they've already accepted him! Am I the only one here who's being cautious? Even if that's the case, this is way too fast. They've only known him for a few minutes, and he already seems like part of the family.
— Well, well? What's going on here? Mother asks as she steps into the room, followed closely by her shadow, Sasha. It's quite lively today—we could hear the laughter from outside.
Everyone freezes on the spot, returning silence to the room, save for a few stifled giggles hidden behind a wall of bodies. The crowd parts, revealing the source of the commotion to Mother. Ishizora, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere, continues his set of push-ups, with three children sitting on his back, enthusiastically counting along.
Mai whispers something to him, and he stops mid-push-up, balancing on one hand. The children, caught off guard by the sudden end of their amusement, blink in confusion. Mai helps them climb down, and Ishizora stands up to face Mother, who has already taken a few steps toward him.
∼ His smile suddenly turn into a clumsy expression. Serves him right—that will teach him not to act like he owns the place…
— I see they've already grown quite fond of you, Mother says with a warm smile. You didn't have to stop because of me.
— No, on the contrary, your arrival saved me, Ishizora replies with an embarrassed smile. These kids would've worn me out soon enough.
— What are you saying? It takes more than that to tire you out, doesn't it? She eyes Ishizora, who stammers awkwardly.
The atmosphere relaxes, the crowd regains its cheerful mood, and laughter fills the room once more.
∼ Why are they chatting so casually like old friends? I've rarely seen Mother in such a good mood. And everyone else too… Just because he's a little strong doesn't mean—
— Do you have something to say, Kana? Mother asks, as if she had read my thoughts.
I remember she just caught me eavesdropping earlier and decide it's best to keep a low profile.
— No, nothing at all, Mother, I blend in with the others to slip out of her line of sight.
— DINNER'S READY! Suddenly shouts a man at the other end of the room, standing at the bottom of the staircase that connects the dining hall to the kitchens.
He freezes, looking perplexed at the scene he just interrupted, drawing every eye to him in an awkward silence.
— Uuh… am I interrupting something?
— Thank you, Gustavio, Mother replies reassuringly.
— EVERYONE, TO THE TABLE! Bellows a broad-shouldered man in his forties.
The commotion resumes as everyone scrambles to find a seat. With Mother sitting at the far right end of the table and Ishizora at the far left, I take a spot in the middle. Mother chats cheerfully with the elders, while the younger ones gather around Ishizora, laughing heartily. I sigh in relief at the sight which is not so different from usual.
∼ I'll do whatever it takes to protect these smiles. Even if no one believes in me anymore, even if I have to go against their will, I will continue to watch over them from the shadows.
Meanwhile, Ishizora tells his adventures, which the younger ones drink in with endless fascination.
— And what happened next? Asks one of them.
— Turns out, the cave I had hidden in to escape the grizzlion was actually its home. I barely made it out that night.
His audience erupts in laughter, and Ishizora no longer seems as tense as when he first arrived.
∼ What could they possibly find interesting in these obviously fabricated tales? No human could escape a situation like that. A grizzlion can run up to 70 km/h when it's angry. Maybe he really is capable of it—after all, this is the man who almost outran the sacred wolves… What's the point in overthinking it? One thing's for sure—he must have been born under a lucky star.
The food finally arrives, carried by Natsuki and the team of cooks, accompanied by a few ten-year-old children who volunteered to help. Today's meal is venison stew.
∼ Looks like Anissa and her team of hunters had a successful morning.
As both a garnish and a vegetable, the modest piece of meat submerged in a bowl of broth is topped with a mubanda flower, whose bitter-tasting purple petals make it rather unpopular with the children. However, it is packed with nutrients and blooms even in the darkest corners of this forest.
∼ Good grief, they could've at least seasoned it.
Just as I'm about to give up on the petals and sink my teeth into the juicy piece of meat, I hear the children gasp in surprise at Ishizora, who is devouring his flower as if it were a piece of bread.
— You're not put off by the bitter taste?! Asks Mai in admiration.
— Oh, is this bitter? Sorry, after years of eating anything soft enough to swallow—and surviving multiple near-death experiences—I've pretty much lost my sense of taste, he replies with that foolish grin I despise, as if Historia's wilderness were some kind of pleasant playground where nothing can truly harm you, even if you're poisoned or weakened.
— I find it hard to believe you've survived this long in the wild without any knowledge of edible plants. Avoid foraging around here—a third of the plants in this forest would either drive you insane or cause internal hemorrhaging.
∼ Well, those two seem to be getting along. Mai, don't tell me… No, that can't be.
Out of pure pride, I eat my flower petals and continue eavesdropping. Suddenly, Natsuki barges in, plopping himself down on the bench between the lovebirds, complaining as usual.
— You've got to be kidding me! I went through all this trouble in the kitchen just to impress my new friend, and it turns out he has dysfunctional taste buds?!
— It's true that you put in a real effort this time, Mai admits, as Natsuki nods in proud agreement. Even shed a little blood.
Everyone who hears this last remark immediately starts inspecting their broth, as if they had just lost a tooth in it.
— I don't know what you're talking about, Natsuki denies, hastily hiding his left hand under the table.
— Don't worry, you know what they say… uh, what do they say again? Ishizora wonders, while Natsuki glares at him impatiently.
— All that counts is the thought?Suggests Anissa, sitting among the children.
— That's it! Exactly what I meant to say!
— That's my best friend right there! Natsuki exclaims, moved. You really know how to talk to a man.
Laughter erupts once again, assaulting my left ear, until Mother restores order with a few taps of her spoon, bringing back a soothing silence.
— As you all already know, we have a guest tonight. While it's not often that we receive visitors in this cozy little hideaway, I would like you to treat him as one of our own until his departure. He brings us tales of the outside world, a world our ancestors once entrusted us to protect. The elders bow their heads in shame, and the younger ones imitate them without fully understanding why. We live in troubled times, and anyone who has set foot in the city knows that many do not hold us in high regard. However, we cannot remain forever cut off from the rest of the world. While we remain prisoners of this forest—a relic of the past left to us by our ancestors—the outside world is constantly evolving. If we do not wish to become relics ourselves, it is essential that we stay informed about what happens beyond these woods.
So, consider our guest's words as the finest of wines, and drink them with the same thirst.
Raising her glass to conclude her speech, everyone follows suit, their excitement palpable. Having just been compared to a free-flowing barrel of cellar wine, Ishizora does not share the same enthusiasm. Besieged with questions from all sides, he answers them one after another, recounting his journey to an audience so silent I can hardly believe it—especially coming from the children. Even the few slow eaters who haven't yet finished their plates put down their utensils, unwilling to miss a single detail from the young man's six-year-long odyssey.
∼ Six years?! Without encountering a single village or human?!
Such an absurd lie almost makes me laugh, but since everyone else seems to be taking it seriously, I hold back.
∼ How can they swallow such nonsense? This isn't some picnic on the grass of an Aragane park! Few would dare to spend even a single day in this deadly wilderness, let alone six years. When I first saw him stumble into our meadow, I could tell he had been on a long journey, but to think I was the first person he had spoken to in six years? No, that must be a lie.
— I did come across a few bandits here and there, but I always made sure to avoid them, he says with that ever-irritating nonchalance.
— This is the first time I've heard of bandits living outside the walls, a female voice remarks in surprise from the right side of the table.
— To survive in the wild while making a living off monster captures, begins a man from the same side in a sarcastic tone, they must be at least as dangerous as you were that time you tried to play hide-and-seek with the children and spent the whole night searching for them while they had gone home long before.
— Oh, Marco! You promised you wouldn't bring that up again!
Laughter erupts once more around the table, even reaching Ishizora's lips, which have now completely relaxed.
— And before that? Asks Mother.
— Before that?
— Yes, before you set off on your adventure. You must have started your journey somewhere.
— Of course. But, I'm not sure how to answer.
— Surely you remember the name of your hometown? Ask a broad-shouldered man sitting to Mother's right.
— A town?! No, no. Where I come from has nothing to do with one of those oceans of white stone. It's more like a… hut. That's it, a hut! A small wooden hut, lost deep in the forest.
Surprise spreads across all faces and lips, rising like morning dew. Among the murmurs, I am relieved to finally hear doubt creeping in. To counter this doubt, a new line of reasoning emerges: his long survival in the wild would make sense if he had always lived there.
∼ Justifying one absurdity with another… They've truly fallen low.
— So, you've lived in the wild your whole life? Asks Mai, cutting through the whispers.
— No, I didn't stay in that hut for long. An old man took me in and cared for me for two years before he left this world.
— An old man?!
— He never told me his name.
— And before that?
— A complete blank. I don't remember anything, he admits sheepishly. The old man said he found me at the foot of a cliff, badly injured. He nursed me back to health, and since I couldn't remember anything—not even my name—he named me Ishizora, after a stone fallen from the sky.
Silence falls over the room, a mix of doubt and surprise hanging in the air.
∼ There it is! He finally slipped up. After this, I doubt anyone around this table will still believe his nonsense. I don't know what trick he's using to deceive Mother and Sasha, but I see right through his little game. I also don't know why he's trying to win the favor of the Shinzuits, but whether he's just a freeloader or a potential threat, I won't tolerate his presence among us any longer.
— So, your name means big lump?! Natsuki cuts in, blowing away the tension in the room with a single joke and replacing it with contagious laughter.
Only the elders remain deep in thought, the only ones aware of how slim the chances of survival are for a young boy with no memories and an old man for sole company.
∼ I can't stay silent any longer.
— If you really lived in the wild for so long, I begin, raising my voice just enough to force everyone to listen, then you must know it's crawling with ferocious monsters that attack anything that moves—not to mention Techna's spies and these so-called bandits you claim to have encountered so often. You don't actually expect us to believe that a twelve-year-old boy with amnesia and an old man on death's doorstep could survive peacefully in such a hostile environment?
∼ I had to raise my voice, but it seems to have worked. The foolish smiles have disappeared, and silence has returned. People need silence to think, and doubt can only be born from reflection. What I'm doing is right—reasoning is always the right thing.
— What you're saying is true. After my fall, I was the weakest of creatures. Incapable of speech and completely ignorant. I would have undoubtedly died the first time I encountered a beast of the forest. But for some reason I don't understand, none of those creatures ever came near the hut. To be honest, I spent an entire year unaware of how dangerous the wild truly was. The old man forbade me from wandering off and dedicated his days to teaching me about the world and martial arts. Language came back to me quickly, but aside from that, everything he taught me was new, and his knowledge of nature seemed endless.
— After a year, he decided I was ready to venture outside and took me on my first hunt. That was the first time I ever saw a wild creature. I was fascinated by such beauty capable of such strength and cruelty. But with the old man by my side, I never felt threatened. On the contrary, the creatures were powerless against my mentor's hunting tactics.
— When he passed away and I began my journey, I realized that everything he had taught me over those two years had only one purpose—to prepare me for his departure. He knew he didn't have much time left, so he did everything he could to make sure I could fend for myself when the time came. The rest, I learned through experience. I won't tell you I've never been in danger or that I never came close to dying. Quite the opposite actually—that was my everyday reality.
— And why did you keep going without giving up? Asks a small child's voice.
— Why…? He repeats, sounding confused as his gaze drifts into the void.
— That's true, Mai chimes in. Without any memories of your past, you didn't have a reason to fight all those years. Normally, no one survives such adversity without an exceptional will to live.
— Maybe it's precisely because I didn't remember anything… I couldn't accept dying without knowing who I am or where I come from, not even knowing if someone will be waiting for me to return their whole life, in vain.
From his hesitant voice and averted gaze, I can tell it's just a facade—a carefully crafted argument. The real truth remains hidden behind his tightly pressed lips, and it seems Mother and Sasha have also noticed. Their perceptive eyes narrow in suspicion.
— In the end, I think I was just lucky, Ishizora continues, trying to end the conversation before Mother can uncover his secret.
— LUCKY?! I repeat, jumping to my feet, my anger awakened like a bucket of cold water thrown over me, and showing no signs of fading. This world isn't kind enough to let abandoned kids survive, no matter how strong they are. Because at the end of the game, it's never the strongest who win—not even the fastest or the most ingenious. No matter your principles, your efforts, and your sacrifices, in the end, cruelty always triumphs. If that weren't the case, none of us would be here. Remember, for god's sake! Are we here because we were weak? I ask, sweeping my gaze across the assembly as everyone lowers their heads. That's not true, and you know it. And it's not because we deserved it either! We simply lost to the world's cruelty, and luck had nothing to do with it—I swear it, as surely as I stand before you.
— If we live in a place like this and lower our chins before the people of the city, it's not because we are weaker than them. It's because we ran—like cowards! We removed ourselves from the world and its sadism. And now, some kid shows up out of nowhere, expecting us to believe that luck is what kept him sane in such a place for six years, when even the strongest among us were broken in less than one?! Doesn't it bother you to be humiliated like this? To be told you simply lacked "luck"?
— That's enough, Kana, says Mother calmly.
— I can't forgive them. Not the world, nor people like him who—
— I SAID ENOUGH!!
Mother's voice echoes through the room for what feels like an eternity. She can be harsh at times, but it's rare to hear her raise her voice like this. I know I can't fight back alone, so I scan the room once more, hoping my speech has earned me the support of at least some of them—but every head remains bowed.
— Fine. If you all insist on pretending, then I'll carry your rage alone. After all, my glass is still far from full, I murmur almost to myself, before striding away from the table.
« What is more convenient than one-sided rage,
Not shackled by reason, nor by wisdom cage.
Through seasons and lands, it blazes untamed,
Until, finally, the hour of judgment is claimed.
Seldom it strikes the ones to blame,
And breaking free often brings greater pain.
But as long as it beats within my chest,
No sorrow lingers, no wound can rest.
Born of father Violence, and Injustice its mother,
Let its fire never smother.
For in the cold world it has made,
Only its warmth keeps me from fade.
Ah, truly, what could be more sweet,
Than fury unchained, anger complete? »