Colin couldn't sleep, mainly because of the stabbing pain of hunger. His stomach ached intensely.
The storm had subsided, taking the soldiers with it.
Finally, it was time to look for supplies. He raised his head from the hay, looking around the barn.
The girl he had met earlier was still motionless, her head between her knees.
Poor thing, she must be too traumatized to go on, he thought as he gave a few small taps to shake the remaining hay from his clothes.
From that moment on, he knew that everything would come down to survival.
With the pickaxe resting on his shoulder, he left the barn.
The surrounding scene was one of complete destruction. Houses and trees had been turned upside down, but the barn had miraculously remained standing.
He walked slowly, scanning the wreckage. Corpses of the villagers were scattered around, while a few survivors wandered aimlessly, their faces empty and lost.
Even though Colin had often been mistaken for a Dark Elf, the broken souls he encountered didn't seem to care anymore.
I'd better find something to eat before I pass out from hunger.
[…]
"Sons of bitches," Colin muttered as he rummaged through boxes in a ruined shack.
The soldiers had looted all the food.
He staggered out of the house, one hand resting on the wall and the other clutching his aching abdomen. Fortunately, he found some water in a bucket next to the remains of another hut.
While the soldiers had dragged him into the cages, he'd noticed a river with running water not far from there, but his thirst couldn't wait.
Without a second thought, he drank—only to taste something bitter and sour.
It was urine.
The only reason he didn't vomit was because there was nothing left in his stomach. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he continued searching for anything that would help him survive.
Dozens of dead animals lay around the village. They had been there for days, almost completely rotten, but he had no choice.
Searching through some corpses, he found a dagger clutched in the hand of an old man whose throat had been cut, along with a ring that caught his eye.
It was gold, with a silver scratch running through the middle.
Colin carefully removed the ring from the old man's wrinkled finger and slipped it into his trouser pocket.
The look on the old man's face at the moment of death was pleading, as if he had been begging for something.
Colin stared at the slit throat for a moment before withdrawing his hand and gently closing the old man's eyes.
In addition to taking the man's dagger and ring, he also stripped him of his clothes, as his own were in tatters.
The man had worn a weather-beaten wool coat with a few dark stains on the sleeves. Although large enough to provide some comfort, the coat was a little tight around Colin's shoulders and chest.
His new pair of boots were made of brown leather—worn but well-maintained—and they fit his feet perfectly.
Colin then made his way to a pigsty and approached one of the already dead pigs. Using the dagger, he cut the animal into pieces and placed them in a bucket.
He grabbed another empty bucket and filled it with water, planning to wash the meat carefully in the river before devouring it down to the bone.
Even with little strength, the false Elf was determined to carry the full bucket.
Why did I have to end up in a place like this? What a piece of shit! I really am a fuck-up!
More than ever, Colin needed to be strong. He would have to learn everything about this new world, as if he were playing an online role-playing game—where knowing the lore was essential.
When he reached the river, he saw the same boy who had previously been chained to a tree, now naked, scrubbing himself vigorously in the water.
His nails almost tore into his own skin as he scrubbed frantically. His gaze was terrifying, and Colin instinctively took a step back, observing him.
The boy's long hair covered part of his face, and his arms bore several scratch marks.
"Another traumatized kid," Colin muttered to himself.
Unbearably thirsty, Colin, still alert, found a spot on the riverbank. He plunged his head into the water and drank voraciously, desperate to expel the lingering bitter taste of urine from his mouth.
After quenching his thirst, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and turned his attention to the pork. Carefully, he began to wash the meat, meticulously removing any traces of rot.
Small crawling creatures were slowly carried away by the river's crystal-clear current.
As he watched his reflection in the water, Colin noticed the marks on his face — the deep circles under his eyes, and a look that seemed emptier than when he first arrived in this unknown world.
His gaze shifted back to the boy in the river, who stared at him with an unsettling, almost predatory look.
He'd better stay where he is.
However, curiosity and the desire to understand the situation prevailed. Colin decided to get closer and establish some kind of communication.
Raising his right arm, he addressed the boy calmly:
"Hey! How are you?"
Of course, he's not okay, he thought as he watched the boy frown and back away even further.
After washing the pork, it was time to roast it.
[…]
The false Elf returned to the ruined village and improvised a spit with a piece of wood, trying out a technique he had seen before.
Using bricks, he built a makeshift brazier and gathered the few dry branches he could find under crates or covered with tarpaulins. It took time, but with determination, he brought the fire to life.
With a small stick, he poked at the wood until the flames crackled and the fire in the brazier intensified.
Placing the meat on the dagger, he held it over the fire, turning it occasionally to ensure it cooked evenly.
Day was already beginning to give way to night, and Colin knew he couldn't stay there. The howls of wolves in the distance echoed through the night air, and stars began to dot the dark sky.
At least tonight, the werewolves won't be out hunting for food. If there are werewolves here, of course…, he thought, keeping his eyes on the blade of his dagger.
He was sitting in front of a small fire crackling in the corner, the comforting warmth enveloping him as he carefully cooked his pig.
Suddenly, he noticed footsteps approaching and turned to identify the source.
It was the girl he had seen in the barn, but now she was unrecognizable—covered in mud and soot, looking as if she had been caught in a dust and mud storm.
Her gaze, however, was the most striking feature: it bore a frightening expression, as if she had witnessed the worst horrors imaginable.
The false Elf, showing a flicker of compassion, pointed with his index finger to the bucket next to him.
"Hi, are you thirsty? There's water here, you can take it if you like…"
But before he could receive any reply, the girl quickly lunged for the bucket, drinking all the water in one voracious gulp.
She was so desperate for liquid that it almost looked like she might immerse herself in the bucket if there had been more.
Colin immediately stood up, taking a cautious step back as he watched her drink, her thirst consuming her.
After finishing the water, the girl seemed calmer.
Showing his generosity, he offered her some meat—a piece of loin cut with his improvised dagger.
The girl's eyes fixed on Colin with a strange expression.
After blowing on the meat a few times, she devoured it quickly.
He couldn't help but notice how hungry and fragile she seemed, and a feeling of compassion crept over him.
So he handed her another piece of meat, gently guiding her:
"Eat slowly. There's not enough here for two people."
So she understands me…, he thought, observing her carefully.
The girl's hair was incredibly black, so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light.
Smooth, silky locks flowed over her shoulders and hips, cascading down to almost touch the ground as she sat.
Her deep purple eyes sparkled like precious gems in the faint glow of the campfire. Thin, arched eyebrows framed her face, giving her a serious, enigmatic appearance.
Colin noticed that the girl's ears were pointed, resembling those of an Elf, and she had two small, almost imperceptible horns on the top of her forehead, hidden beneath her bangs.
Her skin was of an immaculate pallor, perfect and smooth, without any visible imperfections.
Her appearance was as beautiful as it was mysterious, making Colin curious about the girl's origins and story.
A Tiefling?
Determined to establish some kind of communication with the mysterious girl, he asked with a fixed gaze:
"What's your name?"
The girl's eyes met his for a moment, but she remained silent, hugging her own legs, trying to cover the torn parts of her dress.
Without getting an immediate response, he decided to introduce himself.
"I'm Colin," he said, pausing briefly to watch her as she continued to eat. However, he was once again ignored.
Respecting her silence and recognizing that she had been through great trauma, Colin chose to let her enjoy the rest of the evening in peace.
He was aware that it would take time for her to feel comfortable enough to share anything.
Colin had no intention of pressuring her. In this world, he knew it would be wiser to continue on his own path, trying to survive as best he could.
He knew that looking after a child — or anyone — was not in his immediate plans.
He carefully set up his makeshift bed, using his old clothes and a few stones. Lying down with his hands behind his head, he gazed up at the vast starry sky above him.
At last, he was about to have the peaceful night's sleep he had long longed for, surrounded by corpses, accompanied by the sounds of crows and worms.