The morning sun slipped softly through the trees, its light seeping into the small tent. The boy stirred awake, blinking against the brightness. His body ached, his stomach still weak from hunger, but it was warmth—warmth he hadn't felt in days—that surrounded him now.
As he sat up, his eyes widened. Sitting silently at the entrance of the tent was a massive creature — a direwolf, its fur glinting silver under the sunlight. The boy's heart leapt into his throat. He froze for a second, staring into the wolf's amber eyes, and then he screamed.
The sound startled the birds outside, sending them flying into the air.
Eamon and Damien rushed into the tent, their weapons half-drawn, thinking there was danger. Eamon immediately went to the boy's side, crouching beside him.
"What happened, boy? Is anything wrong?" Eamon asked, his tone calm but firm.
The boy pointed at Skarn, trembling. "Th-there's a wolf here!"
Eamon blinked, then looked back at Skarn, who had only tilted his head curiously. Damien couldn't help but chuckle.
Eamon smiled gently. "Don't worry, kid. He's our friend. He won't hurt you. In fact, he's the one who protected you all night."
The boy blinked in confusion. "What? A friend?"
"Yes, buddy," Damien said, sitting on his haunches beside the boy. "He's our companion. His name is Skarn. You can talk to him if you like."
The boy looked uncertain. "No… I'm scared."
Eamon placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's alright. He won't do anything to you. Go on, say hello. You'll see."
The boy hesitated, clutching his torn shirt, but finally took a few nervous steps toward Skarn. The direwolf didn't move, his golden eyes calm and kind.
"Hey… Ska… Skarn," the boy whispered nervously. "Thanks for taking care of me."
Skarn gave a low, friendly woof, wagging his tail once. Then he stood and gently brushed his huge head against the boy's chest. The boy gasped but then laughed, patting his thick fur. He turned to Eamon, his eyes bright for the first time.
"See?" Eamon smiled. "He likes you."
The boy nodded shyly, smiling.
After that, they all stepped outside. The forest looked alive under the rising sun, mist still hugging the ground. The Red River shimmered in the distance, its waves catching the golden light.
Damien handed the boy some fruits. "Here, eat up. You must be starving."
The boy nodded gratefully and ate, small bites at first, then faster, as if afraid someone would take it away. Skarn lay beside him protectively, his tail occasionally brushing the boy's feet.
When the boy finished, Eamon leaned forward. "So, who are you, kid? What's your name?"
The boy wiped his mouth and said softly, "My name is Korran. Korran Draegos."
Eamon exchanged a glance with Damien. "And what were you doing in the forest, Korran? In the middle of the night, no less. Where are your parents?"
The moment he asked, the boy's expression changed. His lips quivered, and his eyes welled up with tears. He looked down, his shoulders shaking.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Damien asked gently.
But Korran suddenly burst into tears. He ran forward and dropped to his knees before Eamon, clutching his hand tightly. His voice trembled as he sobbed. "Please, mister… please help me. My father… my brother… they're going to die!"
The air went still. Eamon and Damien exchanged a grim look, both confused and worried.
Eamon quickly knelt, lifting Korran by the shoulders. "Hey, hey, calm down, Korran. Get up. Please, stop crying."
But the boy couldn't stop. His sobs were raw, filled with fear and desperation. "Please! You have to help me! They'll die if you don't!"
Eamon sighed and glanced at Damien, who nodded.
"Alright, listen to me," Eamon said softly. "We'll help you. I promise. But you need to stop crying first, okay? We'll figure this out together."
Korran sniffed, looking up at Eamon with red eyes. "Y-you'll help me?"
"Yes," Eamon said, giving him a reassuring smile. "We'll help you."
Korran wiped his face and nodded weakly. He stopped crying, though his breaths still came unevenly.
Damien sat cross-legged beside them. "We'll help you, buddy, but first, we need to understand what happened. Tell us everything, from the beginning. Can you do that for us?"
Korran nodded. "Yes… I'll tell you."
He sat down on the ground, pulling his knees to his chest. His voice was still shaky, but he began to speak.
Korran's Flashback
"I come from a nearby town," Korran said softly, "a place called Misticula Town. It's not far from here. I'm seven years old, and I live—lived—with my father and older brother."
Eamon leaned closer, listening intently.
"My brother's name is Felis," Korran continued. "He's fourteen. He's strong, and he always protects me. My father's name is Orzen. He's a teacher—everyone in town respects him. He teaches the children about history, magic, and the old gods. He's… he's very kind."
Korran's eyes grew distant as he spoke, as though the words themselves hurt to remember.
"But things started to change a few months ago," he said. "There's a man who rules our town — the governor, Gorochi. Everyone fears him. He's cruel. He doesn't care about the people. He only cares about his gold and his power. He takes whatever he wants, and the soldiers do nothing to stop him because… because he pays them."
Damien frowned. "Sounds like a tyrant."
Korran nodded. "He is. He makes people work for him. If someone refuses, they disappear."
Eamon's jaw tightened. "And your father?"
Korran hesitated. "We were fine for a long time. My father never interfered with Gorochi's affairs. He said we should stay quiet, that it was safer. But last month, something changed."
He looked up at them both. His voice dropped to a whisper, filled with fear.
"Our town… we've always worshipped the River Goddess. Everyone says she lives beneath the Red River. There's even a fortress down there—an old, ancient one. It's said to be her home."
Eamon leaned forward. "A fortress beneath the river?"
Korran nodded. "Yes. No one's ever seen her or gone down there, but the people believe she protects us.