A cold wind swept through the darkened forest, rustling the thick, twisted trees that stretched far above the boy's head. He had no memory of how he had gotten here—no recollection of his past, his name, or even the pain that had torn through his body.
But one thing he knew for sure: he was alone.
The ground beneath him was wet and slick, the air thick with the scent of earth and something metallic. His body felt wrong, as if something was missing, something vital. His head spun, every nerve in his body screaming with confusion.
He gasped, struggling to breathe, his chest rising and falling painfully with each shallow intake of air.
"Who… am I?" His voice cracked, hoarse and faint, as though it hadn't been used in ages.
His eyes darted around, trying to focus on something—anything—but all he could see was the endless darkness around him. No light. No warmth.
Nothing.
His hands trembled as he pressed them to the damp earth beneath him, trying to push himself up. The moment his legs moved to stand, a jolt of pain shot through his body. His muscles screamed in protest, as though they had been stretched too far and too fast. A low grunt escaped his lips, but he forced himself upright, even as the black spots danced at the edges of his vision.
"Think," he whispered through gritted teeth. "Focus."
A faint glimmer of something—a memory?—flickered at the edge of his mind. The sensation of warmth, of safety. A face, kind and familiar… But it slipped away like sand through his fingers, leaving nothing behind but emptiness.
He clutched his head, a sharp pain radiating from his skull. The world seemed to tilt, and for a moment, he thought he might collapse again. His breath hitched, heart racing as the world swirled around him.
And then—
A strange sensation, as though something was stirring deep within him, rippling through his veins like a wave of cold water.
His body stiffened as a rush of power surged through him—cold, dark power that he could neither control nor comprehend. It was as though it had always been there, lying dormant inside of him, waiting for this very moment.
He froze.
A low, guttural growl broke through the silence of the forest.
From the shadows between the trees, something moved.
His heart lurched in his chest as the growl grew louder, and the air became thick with the stench of something… monstrous.
The creature emerged into the dim light—a hulking figure, covered in dark, matted fur, with eyes glowing an eerie, blood-red. Its claws scraped against the ground, each step sending a shiver through the boy's spine.
Fear clenched his gut, but the voice in his head warned him again.
The boy took a step back, his mind screaming at him to run, but his body refused to obey. His legs felt heavy, as though they were trapped by invisible chains. The creature's eyes locked onto him, narrowing, its mouth opening to reveal rows of jagged teeth. It growled again, a sound that echoed in the boy's bones.
Everything inside him screamed. Run.
But the voice echoed louder, sharper, inside his head, and before he could make a move, the creature lunged.
Time seemed to slow.
He could feel it.
The power inside him—dark, cold, and dangerous—began to stir once more. It was a primal instinct, one he didn't understand, one that rose from the depths of his being, desperate for release.
He raised his hand, his fingers trembling, and before he even knew what he was doing, he whispered the words that formed in his mind.
"Stop."
The creature froze.
A wave of emptiness spread outward from him, an invisible force that rippled through the air like the calm before a storm. The monster's movements slowed, then stopped entirely, as if time itself had frozen in place.
But it wasn't time. It was something else. Something darker.
The boy stared, wide-eyed, his hand still outstretched. What did I just do?
Before he could process it, the creature disappeared. Vanished. As if it had never existed at all.
The forest around him fell silent.
The boy stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. His mind raced, confusion overtaking him as his heart pounded in his chest. He looked down at his hand, trembling from the strain of whatever power he had just unleashed. His fingers curled into a fist, and the world around him felt… wrong. Like the balance had shifted, just for a moment.
And then—
A sharp pain stabbed through his head.
He doubled over, clutching his skull as his vision blurred once more. Flashes of something—a face, a place, a name—flickered in and out of his mind, too fast to grasp. A cry. A scream. Someone shouting his name.
But it was gone before he could catch it.
"I… I don't—" His voice trembled, the words catching in his throat. He didn't even know who he was. What he was. His head felt as though it were going to split open, but there was no time to dwell on it. His body refused to stop, refused to let him fall.
He staggered to his feet again, forcing himself to stand, to move. He didn't know where he was going, didn't know why his legs kept carrying him forward, but something told him he had to keep moving. He couldn't stay here. Not like this.
His eyes darted around, searching for something—anything—that might give him answers.
And then, he saw it.
A shape in the distance.
A figure.
A person.
They were coming toward him, moving through the trees, their silhouette barely visible in the dim light.
The boy froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Who were they?
Should he run?
Before he could make a decision, the figure stepped into the clearing.
A young man, tall and lean, with a sword slung over his back and eyes that gleamed with sharp intelligence. He stopped short when he saw the boy, his gaze flicking up and down, taking in his appearance—his torn clothes, the blood-soaked shirt, the wild look in his eyes.
"…Hey," the stranger called out cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon.
"Who are you?"
The boy opened his mouth.
But no words came out.
He stared at the stranger, his mind blank, struggling to find something—anything—that might help him make sense of this moment.
The stranger's expression shifted to one of concern, and he stepped forward slowly.
"You're… hurt. Are you—?"
The boy shook his head, his mouth dry, his voice still not working. He couldn't remember his name, couldn't remember anything. The only thing he could feel was the ache in his chest and the emptiness in his mind.
Who was he?
The stranger raised an eyebrow. "What happened to you?"
The boy opened his mouth again, this time forcing the words out.
"I don't know."
It was the truth. But it felt like a lie.
The stranger paused, studying him with narrowed eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Alright. You're lucky I found you." He sheathed his sword, but his eyes never left the boy. "Come with me. You need help."
The boy didn't move at first. He was too lost in the confusion, too overwhelmed by the flood of questions that consumed him.
But there was no choice.
He had to follow this stranger.
Maybe he could find some answers. Maybe this person could help him figure out who he was, where he came from, and why he was the way he was.
So, without another word, the boy took a tentative step forward.