Year 1014 - Forest Near a Small Port Town
Nida walked toward the fight like a ghost.
Empty. Hollow. Nothing left inside but ash and rage.
Three older boys, maybe fifteen or sixteen, stood over a smaller kid. Ten years old at most. Skinny. Dirty. Terrified.
"Please!" the kid begged. "I didn't steal from you!"
"Liar!" The biggest one kicked him in the ribs.
The kid cried out and curled up tighter.
The bullies laughed.
And something in Nida exploded.
RAGE
She didn't say anything.
Didn't warn them.
Just grabbed the nearest bully by the hair and slammed his face into a tree.
CRACK.
His nose shattered. Blood sprayed. He screamed and dropped.
The other two spun around, shocked.
"What the—"
Nida punched the second one in the throat.
He gagged, stumbling back, clutching his neck.
The third one raised his fists. "You crazy—"
Nida didn't let him finish.
She tackled him to the ground and started hitting him.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Not calculated. Not controlled.
Pure, mindless rage.
"YOU DON'T GET TO HURT PEOPLE!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "YOU DON'T GET TO TAKE THINGS! YOU DON'T GET TO—"
Her fist connected with his jaw. Teeth flew.
"—DESTROY—"
Another hit. His cheekbone cracked.
"—EVERYTHING!"
The first bully tried to get up, blood pouring from his broken nose.
Nida saw red.
She grabbed a heavy branch from the ground and swung.
CRACK.
It connected with his skull.
He went down and didn't get up.
The second bully, still choking, tried to crawl away.
Nida grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him back.
Raised the branch again—
The world tilted.
Her vision went dark at the edges.
No. Not now. Not yet.
"YOU KILLED HIM!" the third bully screamed, staring at his friend's unmoving body. "YOU KILLED—"
Nida's legs buckled.
The branch fell from her hands.
She swayed, trying to stay upright, but her body had reached its absolute limit.
Days without food. Without sleep. Without hope.
It all came crashing down.
She collapsed.
SYIZEN'S REALIZATION
Syizen scrambled to his feet, his ribs screaming in pain from the beating he'd taken.
The girl who'd saved him lay crumpled on the ground.
A baby—he hadn't even noticed it before—was strapped to her chest in a makeshift sling, crying weakly.
The two surviving bullies were already running, terrified.
Syizen ignored them.
He dropped to his knees beside the girl.
"Hey! Are you okay?!"
No response.
He touched her shoulder. She was ice-cold.
She's freezing. And so thin.
He looked closer.
Her clothes were torn and filthy. Dried blood covered her hands and arms—some fresh, some days old. Her face was gaunt, hollow. She looked like she hadn't eaten in a week.
And the baby...
Syizen carefully checked. The infant was barely moving. Weak. Starving.
They're dying.
He looked at the girl's face again.
She couldn't be much older than him. Maybe fourteen at most.
What happened to her?
He'd seen that look before. The empty eyes. The rage. The desperation.
He'd seen it in the mirror after the 6th Empire destroyed his village.
She's like me. She lost everything.
Syizen made a decision.
He was small. Weak. Still hurt from the beating.
But he was a survivor.
And more importantly—he was a thief. A damn good one.
He'd been surviving alone for three months by stealing food, money, supplies. He knew every merchant's blind spot, every guard's patrol route.
He had a hideout. Stocked with stolen goods.
And right now, this girl and this baby needed it more than anyone.
CARRYING THEM HOME
Syizen carefully lifted the girl.
She was lighter than he expected. Too light.
She's been starving for days.
The baby was still strapped to her chest. Syizen adjusted his grip, making sure both were secure.
"I've got you," he whispered. "Both of you."
He started walking.
It took him almost an hour, but finally, he reached his hideout.
Unlike the broken shelter he'd described before, this was actually decent.
An abandoned storage room behind a warehouse. Hidden by stacked crates. Dry. Warm. And most importantly—filled with supplies.
Sacks of stolen rice. Dried meat. Bread. Vegetables. Water. Blankets. Even some medicine he'd swiped from an apothecary.
Syizen had been preparing to survive the winter.
Now, he'd be sharing it.
He laid the girl down on a pile of blankets—the softest spot in the room.
Then he carefully untied the baby.
"Alright, little guy. Let's get you some food."
TAKING CARE OF THEM
Syizen worked quickly.
He soaked a clean cloth in water mixed with a tiny bit of honey—something he remembered his mother doing once—and let the baby suck on it.
The infant latched on desperately.
Good. That's good.
Then he turned to the girl.
She was still unconscious. Barely breathing.
Syizen heated some water over a small fire, made a thin soup with rice and bits of dried meat, and waited for it to cool.
Then, gently, he lifted her head and tried to get her to drink.
Most of it dribbled down her chin, but some went down her throat.
It's enough. For now.
He cleaned the blood from her hands and face with a damp cloth. Covered her with warm blankets. Made sure the baby was bundled close to her for warmth.
Then he sat back, exhausted.
What did I just get myself into?
But looking at them—this broken girl and helpless infant—he didn't regret it.
Not even a little.
SHE WAKES
Nida's eyes opened slowly.
Warmth. That was the first thing she felt.
Real warmth. Not the cold, biting forest. Not the frozen ground.
Soft fabric against her skin. The smell of food.
Am I dead?
She tried to sit up.
"Whoa, easy!" A voice. Young. Concerned.
Nida turned her head.
The boy she'd saved sat beside her, holding Kaisen.
"You're awake," he said, relief flooding his face. "I was starting to worry."
Nida blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings.
A room. Small but dry. Supplies everywhere. Blankets. Food.
"Where..." Her voice was hoarse. "Where am I?"
"My place. Well, my hideout, technically." The boy smiled slightly. "You collapsed in the forest. I brought you here."
Nida's eyes widened. "The baby—"
"He's okay. I fed him some honeyed water. He's sleeping now." The boy carefully placed Kaisen in her arms.
Nida held him close, tears springing to her eyes.
He's alive. We're alive.
"How long was I out?"
"About six hours."
Six hours. She'd lost six hours.
Panic rose in her chest. "The bullies—did they—"
"They ran. They're not coming back." The boy's expression darkened. "You... you killed one of them."
Nida looked down.
I'm a murderer.
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
"Don't be." The boy's voice was firm. "They were going to kill me. You saved my life."
Silence.
Then Nida asked quietly, "Why did you bring me here?"
The boy looked at her, his eyes older than his years.
"Because I know what you're going through."
"You don't know anything about me."
"I know you're running. I know you've lost people. I know you're trying to protect that baby even though you can barely stand." He paused. "And I know the 6th Empire did this to you. Just like they did to me."
Nida's breath caught.
He knows.
"My village," the boy continued quietly. "Three months ago. They came with soldiers and dragons. Killed my parents. My older brother died protecting me." His voice was steady, but his eyes were haunted. "I've been alone ever since."
"What's your name?" Nida whispered.
"Syizen."
"I'm Nida."
"I know. You told me before you passed out."
They sat in silence for a moment.
Then Syizen said gently, "You need to eat. And rest. You're sick. Starving. If you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to take care of him." He nodded at Kaisen.
"I don't have anything to give you," Nida said. "No money. No—"
"I don't want anything." Syizen stood and ladled some soup into a wooden bowl. "Just... let me help. Please."
He handed her the bowl.
Nida stared at it. At the food. At this impossibly kind boy.
Then she started eating.
And crying.
She couldn't stop either one.
HELD
After she finished eating, exhaustion hit her again.
"You should sleep more," Syizen said. "Your body needs it."
"I'm fine—"
"You're not." His voice was gentle but firm. "When's the last time you really slept? Really rested?"
Nida couldn't remember.
Before the massacre, maybe.
"Come on." Syizen carefully took Kaisen from her arms and placed him in a padded basket he'd prepared. Then he looked at her. "Lie down."
"I can—"
"Nida. Please."
Something in his voice—not commanding, just... concerned—made her listen.
She lay back down.
Syizen pulled the blankets up around her, tucking them in like a parent would for a child.
Then, to her complete shock, he sat beside her and carefully pulled her head into his lap.
"What are you—"
"Shhh." He placed a small hand on her head, gently stroking her hair. "Just rest. I'll keep watch."
Nida wanted to protest.
Wanted to say she didn't need this.
But the truth was... she did.
She was so tired. So broken. So utterly exhausted.
And this small act of kindness—being held, being cared for, being safe—shattered the last of her defenses.
She started crying again.
Not the violent, screaming sobs from before.
Just quiet tears that wouldn't stop.
Syizen didn't say anything.
Just kept gently stroking her hair, humming a soft melody his mother used to sing.
"It's okay," he whispered. "You're safe now. I promise."
And somehow, impossibly, Nida believed him.
She closed her eyes.
And for the first time in days, she slept.
Really, truly slept.
THE VOW
When Nida woke again, it was evening.
Syizen was still there, sitting against the wall, keeping watch.
Kaisen slept peacefully in his basket.
"You stayed," Nida said quietly.
"Of course I did."
She sat up slowly, feeling stronger. The food and rest had helped.
But the rage—the cold, burning rage—was still there.
"Syizen."
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to destroy them." Her voice was hard. Certain. "The 6th Empire. Everyone who did this. I'm going to learn how they fight. How they think. And then I'm going to kill every single one of them."
Syizen looked at her.
He should have been scared. Should have tried to talk her out of it.
But instead, he just said softly, "Okay."
"You don't believe me."
"I do believe you." He smiled sadly. "But right now, you need to focus on surviving. On getting stronger. On taking care of Kaisen." He paused. "When you're ready... when the time comes... I'll help however I can."
"Why?"
"Because you're not alone anymore." His voice was firm. "Neither of us are."
Nida stared at him.
This ten-year-old thief who'd saved her life. Who'd fed her. Who'd held her like she was something precious.
I don't deserve this kindness.
But she was too tired to argue.
Too broken to push him away.
So she just nodded.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet." Syizen grinned slightly. "You're stuck with me now."
Despite everything, Nida almost smiled.
Maybe... maybe we can survive this.
Together.
END OF CHAPTER 4