The cold crawled into my neck and tangled in my long blue hair. My face, now visible in the faint light, wore an expression of annoyance, hatred, and countless other fleeting thoughts—the realization sinking in that I was, once again, trapped in the cold dream.
What the hell is this? Why… why…
Looking around, I noticed my sheets had come with me—but not my bed, not my hut. Why? I hesitated. Was this just a recurring dream, or something else? Was I caught in some continuous, lucid nightmare? I couldn't understand why I felt so tired. This was a dream, I told myself—it wasn't real. Maybe believing that would help. But the cold was real. The pain in my fingers was real. The hunger of my cells for warmth was real. Everything—damn it—all of it was real.
"Garsh darnet," I muttered.
I forced myself out of the hollow my body had made in the compacted snow. The blizzard raged everywhere, thick and relentless, limiting visibility to less than ten feet. Just like last time…
Wait. Last time—the wolf. I remembered. No. If I went down the same path as before, it might find me again, might kill me. I couldn't let that happen. That kind of pain was unbearable. Not today. Not ever.
I pressed on down the open path from the mountain, eventually entering what seemed like a forest. The deeper I went, the more endless it became. Trees stretched beyond sight, their branches cloaked in snow, turning everything into a blinding white. Yet shadows lingered beyond ten feet, stubborn and dark.
I huffed, my heart demanding I stop. My eyes burned, and panic clawed at me. I looked at my hands—frozen solid. This was it. I knew it. What the hell was this place? The cold was beyond comprehension; each breath sliced into me like jagged ice.
Spat!
Blood. My mouth filled with it. Every inhale felt like it was killing me. I needed to turn back. I had to.
Then I saw it. Smiling, staring at me with the cold light of carnage. Death itself, but not a man, not a shadow beyond sight—no. It was the wolf.
Ten feet away, it regarded me with pity, as though my death was too easy, too quick for it to enjoy. It walked slowly, deliberately, while my legs gave out. My body collapsed against an ice-clad tree, the forest frozen in a deadly stillness.
Its face was mere hands away. I could see its teeth, the size of my legs. Its head dwarfed mine, massive and dark, fur like shadows wrapped around it. Golden eyes glowed with dark purple fire. It was death incarnate. My end.
"Now… motherfucker… kill me!"
Darkness swallowed me. Nameless, infinite, yet calm—the silence of death itself.
Bang.
My body was flung from the bed. Moonlight vanished. The sun had risen. My first day of work awaited, and the never-ending nightmare of the hunting dream seemed destined to follow me forever.
...
Walking beyond the stone road and onto the dirt path, the shoes I had started wearing yesterday felt warmer than ever. Even though my night's sleep had been little more than a minute, I somehow had the energy to carry myself forward.
Down the path, I spotted the red ember barn. By the time my feet reached the entrance, it seemed I had arrived early.
Judging by the sun's slow climb, it had been more than an hour before anyone else showed. With time to spare, I decided to take a short nap.
This time, I could actually sleep. No darkness dragging me down, no freezing pull of that dream.
Bang.
"Wake up. Work's today. Surprised—you're here earlier than me."
I smiled. Not because I had been kicked awake, but because I had managed to sleep without falling back into that damn dream. That mystery would have to wait. For now, the job came first… even if I hoped it wouldn't kill me.
"Follow me. We don't usually meet here."
I trailed after him. We walked for more than thirty minutes before reaching the forest. It looked strangely familiar—too similar to the one from my dream.
"What are these trees called?" I asked.
"These? Greenlegs. Common in these regions. You'll see them everywhere if you ever go past this encampment and into the cities."
"Cities? What cities?"
"Kid, you really don't know anything, do you?"
"I don't, actually."
"Really? Then why can you speak? Only those who know not to speak are the ones who don't know anything."
"…So, about the cities?" I pressed, wanting to understand something—anything—about the outside world.
"Next time, kid. Maybe once you've got some muscle, I'll tell you all the great tales of the cities." He smiled faintly.
We walked deeper into the woods. My thoughts drifted. The forest looked too much like the one in my dream. Maybe following Jack here could give me clues… maybe even help me survive, if that nightmare came again. Still, even with the nap, a part of me felt it wasn't over.
As we continued, the trees changed. They grew larger, wider, older. At first, they were only a few times my size. But soon, some were so massive that my entire body couldn't span even a fraction of their girth. I was less than four feet tall, yet these giants stretched more than nine feet across and towered like four-story buildings.
"What are these called?" I asked, staring upward.
"Dragon Trees," Jack answered. "Each one's been around as long as the land itself."
"Are these the trees we cut?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. With my weak arms and small frame, I could barely keep up with Jack, let alone imagine felling one of these titans.
"Yes, thank the gods we've got machines to do the work for us—tractors fitted with chainsaws at the head of their engines. Praise the brilliant artisans who built them. Without those men, we'd be hacking at these giants with axes until our arms fell off.
He raised his hand and gestured toward one of the enormous trunks, silver eyes narrowing beneath his blue hair.
"Each tree is worth a thousand gold coins. Ten of them together—worth six ambers. Do you know how much amber is worth, Elliot? More than ten thousand of you."
"Well… that sounds great and all, but I don't understand," I admitted.
Jack let out a sharp breath, annoyed, and pointed again at the tree.
"Listen. We cut these for more than just wood. Their seeds are brewed into tea—each worth a hundred gold. Their wood—the older it is, the stronger the harvest it brings when carved into tools. But the roots—ah, the roots are the true treasure. They heal nerves, sharpen reflexes, make soldiers faster, deadlier. A single root can sell for three hundred gold. Do you understand now? These trees aren't called Dragon Trees for nothing. They're a treasure trove, and every part of them has power."
Walking down, I soon saw cut-down trees. Even from a distance, their massive trunks lay in clean, flat cuts—miles of timber stacked like fallen giants. The air carried the hiss of steam and the low grinding roar of machines.
The tractors were enormous: wide-bodied, windowless beasts. Their wheels weren't ordinary—they were plated, black, like armored shields. They looked less like tractors and more like trucks, though smaller in frame. Still, the wheels stood at least five feet tall.
Following the path, I spotted the people I would be working with. Three kids waited there, all older than me. One boy, nearly Jack's size, looked around seventeen or maybe older. A girl stood beside him, and another boy—short, just a little taller than me.
"Hello, Jack," the short boy said.
"Hello, Max. Good to see you. Good to see you all. Alright, let's get to the point. This here is Elliot—he'll be working with you. Each of you, introduce yourselves."
"Hello, my name is Max." He wore ragged blue jeans and a dirty white short-sleeved shirt, yet still looked healthier than me.
"Hi," I replied quickly, realizing how ragged I must look in comparison. Layers of clothes clung to me—I'd need to strip some off soon, or else I'd sweat myself to death. My long hair, too, dragged past my elbows. I'd need to cut it, sooner or later.
"Hello, Elliot. My name's Masy."
"Hi, little one. My name is Will."
They all seemed decent enough. I hoped the work wouldn't be too hard.
Jack cleared his throat. "Now, listen. You know how this works. First, the tractors will cut down the Dragon Trees. While that's happening, you'll bleed the trees for tomorrow. Once the first batch is hauled to the barn, you'll look for dark-marked trees—those are good for fragrance. Whoever finds the best ones can earn more than three grand tomorrow. Four if they find a triple."
"Let's get it!!" Max shouted, running off before Jack had even finished.
"Alright, you guys can go," Jack said, and Will and Masy left too. Seemed that was common.
"So… I'll be doing what everyone else is doing?" I asked.
"Yes. But first, either pick Masy or Will to watch. Learn how they bleed a tree. Once you understand, you should be able to find three or five on your own. See those buckets?"
I followed his gesture. The buckets were strapped to frames like backpacks. Each was nearly as tall as me, wide enough to match my body. My stomach sank at the sight.
"That should hold the sap of one or two trees, depending on age. Any questions?"
"No."
I hesitated, wondering who to follow. Masy or Will? I decided I'd just watch—quietly. If they didn't want me there, they'd tell me.
After a hundred steps or more, I caught sight of the three at work. I moved toward Masy. She was already bleeding a tree, her bucket strapped on tight.
But before I could even get close, she screamed:"Get the fuck away!"
I froze. So that was how it was. No desire to help. No thought of teaching. Just a survival game—who could find enough to live another day. Annoying, but not worth getting angry over.
So I went to Will. "Hey, I was wondering… would you mind helping me?"
"Sure. But it'll cost you."
"How much?"
He laughed. "How much? You're quick, aren't you?"
"I don't know."
"Alright, the cost is your first three findings."
"That's it?"
"Yes, that's it."
"Okay. Tell me."
"You're not going to ask Max instead?"
"I bet his deal would be worse. His smile gave me a weird feeling."
"You're smart. That kid's more dangerous than me." Will grinned. "Alright then—the secret. Come here."
He pointed at the tree he'd been working on.
"Do you see where I made the hole?"
"See what?"
"Feel it."
I placed my hand on the mark. The wood was softer. "It's different, but I don't see much else."
"Look closer. Not for color. For everything."
I studied it again. Then I saw it—the bark was lighter here.
"Yes. That helps. But there's more. Look at the edge of the bark."
There, faint but visible, was a black outline.
"The black on the edge of the skin…"
"Yes. Now closer still."
It took me a long moment. Then I saw it. "Wait… the grain. The wavering pattern in the bark—it's like swirling strings. Those strings must be veins, carrying whatever that black substance is. Some kind of… secretion? It must mean the tree's in a certain state of life."
"Damn, kid. You're either sharp or someone already taught you. Took me four days to figure that out."
"Well, now let's find my three, then I can start filling the bucket."
"Alright, let's go, Elliot."
At first, the endless trees overwhelmed me. I felt lost in the sea of trunks. But then I noticed wooden signs nailed to some of them, pointing the way back to the path. That grounded me. I focused, searching carefully. Soon I found one tree, then another, then a third.
"Alright, Will. That's the third one. Like we promised—I'm off."
"Yes, yes. But first let's empty my bucket, then I'll go with you to yours. Need to unload anyway."
We walked back together. At first, it was silent. Then, slowly, Will started talking.
He told me about the world. About the Descendants of the Golden Sun, once rulers, now slaves exiled to the badlands at the edge of the Alden Empire. He said the Alden Empire was ruled by a powerful mockery of a family—though he didn't know details.
The children of the Golden Sun, he said, had distinct eyes: blue, with rings like halos around them. Rare, treasured, even harvested for alchemy. Illegal in the Empire—but in lawless lands, it was open game. Many children didn't survive past eighteen. Many old men lost their eyes, stolen for coin.
He spoke of it like it was nothing, but every word weighed on me. This world wasn't just harsh—it was cruel. Relentlessly cruel.
"Alright, we're almost there. One more minute. I told you more than I should've—but I appreciate your help, Elliot. Still… I can't have you in my way. On this one, I just can't trust you."
"What—?"
Bang.
The blow came before I could react. I hit the ground hard, vision spinning. In front of me, I saw the tractor still cutting, its saws screaming into wood.
Rage welled up inside me. All this time—even when I was beaten—I had made progress. But now? I couldn't even react. His arm had dropped me like nothing.
I was weak.
Too weak.