— If only our world were kinder, you would have been safe from every harm. —
The shovel hit the ground, occasionally hitting rocks. With his bare hands, he removed any rocks that stopped him from digging further. Blood dripped from his left arm but he didn't pay attention to the pain.
In the dark forest, only the wind accompanied him, and its loud cries. Before he knew it, he couldn't differentiate between the tears running down his face and the sweat that mixed with them. The cold air blew on his face, on his silver hair, and his thin torn white shirt didn't shield him from any of it. He didn't shiver—he was a man—he couldn't be weak.
Ren didn't know his way around the forest.
But he did. It was his territory—his refuge—his den—his home. Unlike that place.
Once he found the hole deep enough, he looked at the body wrapped inside a cotton blanket he stole. He knelt to the ground, embraced the body one last time, and pressed a kiss on its forehead, crying. The body had already turned cold, not returning him any heat. Not any ounce of life left in it. He clenched his jaw, recalling every moment he'd spent with this person. But he didn't have any time to waste.
One last time, he removed the blanket, looking at him. As soon as he heard footsteps from far, he once again wrapped the body with the cloth. He would have preferred something warmer, but he couldn't afford such a luxury.
Inhaling deeply, he gently placed the body inside the hole. Then, he replaced the rocks around the body, as if shielding it from something—someone. Soon, the body was covered with rocks and soil.
Nothing was visible.
Then, he carefully evened the ground, making sure no one would doubt what happened here. While he did so, he wanted to scream his lungs out, the nausea wouldn't leave—he wanted to throw up. His heartbeat kept increasing as the seconds passed. But he didn't have the time to think—to feel. He had to hurry.
Quickly, he began erasing his traces. Everything—anything related to him— and his presence, and the body's.
Once he was certain his traces were erased, he ran. He ran without looking behind, sobbing. His chest had tightened to the point he could barely breathe. But he couldn't stop. Not now.
After crossing the woods, he spotted a muddy road. It led toward a mansion. A large and thick iron gate guarded it. He let out a soft sigh of relief. He could stay here, and remain close to him.
"What are you doing?" One of the guards standing next to the entrance demanded.
Ren couldn't utter a word for a moment. Then, a thought crossed his mind.
"W-Work. I want to work here."
The guard examined him from head to toe and shook his head.
"Just go away."
"Please, let me work here."
His voice trembled.
Dark clouds soon covered the sky, warning of an upcoming storm.
"Please… please, let me work here. I promise I will not cause trouble!" he begged, his voice cracking with every word he uttered.
He shivered in the cold, the wind blowing through his skin. Yet, he tried to withstand it as much as his body would allow.
The sky rumbled, and rain poured on his wounds. Blood dripped down his right arm as he held the wound firmly to stop the blood from flowing. One couldn't distinguish between his tears, sweat, and the rain. His grey shirt, matching his silver hair, was torn, exposing slightly his skin. His red, ruby-like, eyes glimmered by the light hung on the wall, under the dark blue sky, filled with tears.
"I told you. We cannot! And… You reek of blood! Did you fight with someone… or maybe… murder—?" a servant hesitantly demanded, shielded under an umbrella. Despite the pouring, his white shirt and black suit remained completely dry. He was merely passing by until he saw this strange man lurking near the border.
The guards told him he had asked for work.
What work?
If anything, he looked no less than a filthy beggar.
"What is happening here?" the head maid, Hannah, asked.
She heard from the maids that a man stood before the gate. He wouldn't leave no matter how many times he was told to. Curiously, she came to check who was stubborn enough to stand under this heavy rain, and what could be the reason behind such behaviour.
Jian flinched, quickly rushing toward her, extending the umbrella for her.
She stepped closer to the iron gate; the guards' postures straightened at the sight of her.
"This young man wishes to work here. I have told him that we cannot hire anyone now. Not when it is someone as suspicious as him… He is injured. Surely, he fought with someone—"
"Do you wish to taint the general's reputation? He might be suspicious—even an enemy—but are our knights so weak they cannot handle one injured man?"
Jian froze for a moment and shook his head, his face flustered. General Zayden's knights were the strongest army in the kingdom. There was no way they wouldn't be able to handle a wounded fragile-looking man like this one.
"He is injured. The lord always instructed us to treat anyone injured. Bring him in and put him under watch until his identity has been cleared."
"What if he escapes after hurting someone?"
Hannah smiled.
"Bind him by chains if needed, then."
Having said so, she gestured to the guards to open the gates, letting Ren inside.
"T-Thank you so much," he whispered under a heavy breath of relief.
But he didn't get to take another step.
His knees buckled instantly. The strength he had clung to, the resolve that had pushed him this far, shattered like fragile glass under the weight of his body he could no longer bear.
His body hit the wet earth with a dull thud, his face down and his limbs unmoving.
Mud splashed against his cheek. The rain didn't stop. It pelted him harder now, soaking into the torn fabric and the open wound he no longer had the strength to clutch. His fingers twitched once before falling limp. His blood mixed with the rainwater, running through the thin layer of the soil.
For a long second, no one moved.
Everything fell silent around his collapse. Only the thunder dared to shriek, louder than before, accompanied by the sound of the rain.
Hannah clicked her tongue in disbelief. Then, she glared at the servant beside her.
"And you thought this weak, fragile man would hurt someone? It seems your eyesight might be decreasing."
The man stood there silently. He hadn't been scolded the past few years by anyone as much as he was today.
Because of this man…
He gritted his teeth, glaring at the unconscious young man lying on the muddy ground.
"Bring the man inside and treat his wounds," Hannah ordered, grabbing the umbrella from the servant, and walking back into the mansion.
***
He jolted awake, cold sweat running down his forehead. He looked around, his eyes widened in horror.
"W-Where is this?" Ren mumbled, gripping the bed sheet. He looked down, shocked to see himself in a bed. It was soft and warm. Nothing compared to the cold he felt for the past few weeks when he had to stay outside. He pulled his shirt—black. Nothing like the torn clothes he wore before losing consciousness.
Just then, the door opened. As if to answer his questions, a young lady walked in.
"You have finally regained consciousness!" She exclaimed, a bright smile on her lips.
He suspiciously examined her. She didn't carry any weapon because she carried a tray with her hands with a bowl containing something that seemed to be a medicine. Steam blew out of it, a bitter scent. Light blonde hair, wearing a black and white dress, and her neck wrapped by a thin scarlet thread.
Demonic energy…
He thought, and with slow movements, he stepped on the cold floor, barefoot.
"Wait, let me get a—" she placed the tray on a table nearby, and extended her hand towards him, trying to support him in case he fell.
After all, he had been unconscious for three days already. His body was undoubtedly weak. The headmaid instructed her to take care of him as soon as he was brought to the servants' quarters, and to make sure his fever would decrease and his wounds would heal.
Ren gently placed his hand on hers, then swatted it away as if he had just remembered something.
"Is something wrong?" Emily asked, keeping her hand still for him to hold.
"N-Nothing. Wh-Where is this?"
"This is the servants' quarters. I heard from the headmaid that you wish to work here. Well, before that, she asked me to verify your identity with you. We cannot just hire anyone," she chuckled. "I mean, this is the General Zayden's mansion."
Ren almost choked on the air. He swallowed hard, blinking at her without being able to say a word.
"You seem shocked to hear his name… Do not fear! He is not as evil as they say."
Ren raised an eyebrow, doubtful of her words.
"Trust me. But as of now, I shall lead you to meet the headmaid formally," she paused, as if recalling something. "Do you feel well enough to walk?"
Ren nodded. He slightly recalled an elderly lady instructing the servant he begged for work to bring him in. He needed to meet that person, show his gratitude and…
She would not let me stay without an identity proof… would she? What should I say?…