Blaze walked through the lush forest. Birdsong accompanied his steps, a sweet melody. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled his senses. Occasionally, he passed a small stream with clear water, offering refreshment on his long journey. After passing through a seemingly endless forest, he saw a breathtaking sight: a small village nestled in a valley. It was Ruame Village, surrounded by vast green rice paddies that stretched to the foot of the lush green hills. The villagers' houses were made of wood, thatched with straw, simple but comfortable. Thin smoke rose from the chimneys, signifying the warmth and peace of life within. The air felt fresher and cooler here. The sound of gurgling water from the irrigation canals gently reached his ears.
This place was far from the hustle and bustle of the outside world, calm and peaceful, like an oasis that gave new life to a weary soul.
Blaze stopped at the edge of the forest, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of young rice. His long black robe, heavy and stuffy, he removed with a slow movement. The silk cloth fell limply onto the green grass. His trained hands deftly reached for the mask that had covered his face all this time. The cold metal of the mask felt foreign against his warm skin. Slowly, he removed the mask, revealing the face that had been hidden for so long. Fine dust flew as the mask came off. He wiped his face, feeling the freshness of the country air.
Blaze's face looked soft. His skin was clean, slightly tanned, with a strong jawline. A pair of piercing blue-gray eyes like a storm in the middle of the sea, but their light held a gentleness that made anyone feel comfortable. His eyebrows were thick and well-defined, framing his face perfectly. His nose was aquiline, giving an aristocratic impression, while his lips were full with a natural curve that added to his attractiveness. His jet black hair was tousled, flowing slightly past his shoulders. He was about 160-170 centimeters tall, he looked young, about 16 years old.
The morning sun illuminated the path leading to the village. Morning dew still moistened the green grass on the edge of the road. Blaze's steps were calm and light, different from his hurried steps when he was on the battlefield. He passed several villagers' houses, thin smoke rising from the chimneys, indicating that life had already begun since morning. At the edge of the village, near an old, shady banyan tree, a middle-aged man with a wrinkled face stood in front of a simple wooden house. The house looked clean and well-maintained, with a small yard planted with a few flowers. The man wore simple clothes, but he looked neat and clean. When he saw Blaze approaching, the man raised his hand, greeting him with a warm and friendly smile, as if he had been waiting for Blaze's arrival. The smile looked sincere, showing familiarity and affection.
Blaze smiled, a smile that was completely different from the cold expression he usually showed when fighting. His smile this time was wide and sincere, showing relief and happiness. The face that was usually hidden behind shadows now looked so charming, as if he were a completely different person. "Uncle, I'm home," he said, his voice light and warm.
The village headman, an old man with white hair and skin wrinkled by the scorching sun, hugged Blaze tightly. The hug was warm and affectionate, like a father's hug to his child. The village headman was the man who saved him from the river when he was still a baby and took good care of him until he was a teenager. The scent of fragrant wood and damp earth filled Blaze's senses. He could feel the genuine warmth of the village headman's hug. "Ah, Blaze! It's been a long time. We've all missed you here," said the village headman, his voice trembling with emotion. Tears of joy appeared at the corner of the village headman's eye. He patted Blaze's back, showing affection and happiness beyond measure. After a while, the hug released, but the warmth remained.
In the village, Blaze was known as a cheerful and spirited young man. He was often seen helping villagers plant rice, repair irrigation canals, or help build houses. Children often gathered around him, laughing merrily at the simple jokes Blaze told. The village women often looked at him from a distance, captivated by his handsomeness and kindness. The village men respected him, seeing him as one of them who worked hard and was never arrogant. Blaze was always friendly and smiling to everyone, without distinction of rich or poor, old or young. He was always ready to help anyone who needed his help.
Blaze never complained, even when the tasks assigned to him took time.
The village market was bustling with buying and selling activities. The fragrant smell of spices and fresh vegetables filled the air. Blaze, with his sturdy body but light steps, moved through the crowd. He could be seen carrying a woven basket full of fresh green vegetables, his destination was an old woman who had difficulty walking. He helped the old woman carry her groceries to her house. Along the way, he chatted amicably with the old woman, asking about her news and health. Along the way to the old woman's house, Blaze also chatted with other merchants, asking about their news and asking about their harvest. He inserted light humor that made them laugh out loud. His smile was sincere and friendly, showing kindness and kindness. No one would have guessed that this simple and friendly man was an assassin. In fact, even the little children ran around him without fear.
The next night, in front of a small fireplace whose bonfire was blazing, warming the simple wooden room, the village headman looked at Blaze with full attention. The dancing light of the fire on the wooden walls created a warm and comfortable atmosphere. The aroma of burning firewood provided its own warmth.
"You look more mature, Blaze. What brought you back to this village?" asked the old man as he handed him a cup of warm tea.
The steam from the warm tea rose into the cold night air. Blaze sipped the tea slowly, feeling the warmth of the liquid soothe his slightly dry throat. He looked at the bonfire blazing in the fireplace, his shadow dancing on the wooden walls. "I just want to go home," he said, his voice soft. "It feels like I've been away from this place for too long," he continued, looking at the village headman's attentive face. His gentle eyes hid the heavy burden he had been carrying all this time. He didn't want the old man who had taken care of him since childhood to know about his dark past, about the trail of murder he had left in various places. He wanted to enjoy the peace of this village, at least for a while.
Life in this village provided temporary peace for Blaze. Every morning, before the sun rose fully, he was already awake and helping the villagers with various daily tasks. He helped chop firewood for cooking needs, repair damaged fences in villagers' gardens, or carry water from the well using a simple pulley to the homes of villagers who needed it. His skilled and strong hands made his work always quickly completed. He was also often seen playing with children in the open field, teaching them various traditional games.
His never-fading smile made everyone feel that Blaze was an inseparable part of the village.
But, behind the smile and laughter he showed, Blaze continued to carry memories of the Carmesim Order. In the quiet of the night, when everyone was asleep, he looked at the starry sky from his bedroom window. He thought of his teacher, Master Kael.
The next day, Blaze walked towards the river that crossed the village. That place was a silent witness to how he was found and given a chance to live. He reached for the clear air with his hands, washing his face with complexity."