After the attack, Ryan drowned in a sea of silence and despair. The days were passing by as a series of heavy stones, every day larger and more cruel than before. He no longer wants to see anyone, no longer wants to hear a sound, or any form of human communication. The whole world seemed to be suffocated, dark, without mercy, as if everything is beautiful forever.
He sat on a rock near a small river, watching its reflection in the moving water. His face seemed strange to him, pale, his eyes are reddish of crying and deprivation, his body is exhausted, hiding in the silence of the forest as if it would protect him from the past. But he did not feel safe, so every reflection of himself reminded him of his impotence. He saw the ghost of the person who was, weak, unable to protect his loved ones, unable to face life. All the memories of the massacre were like sharp knives instilled in his heart without mercy, repeated in his dreams and vigilant him alike, every time his eyes close the fire, screams, and the faces of the dead in front of him without mercy.
"Why am I, why did the world leave me this way?" He muttered in a soft voice, but the question did not find an answer. Every moment he passed, he felt as if she was pressing him more, as if to withdraw all the remaining soul.
He decided to be isolated from humans, about everything he reminded of weakness and loss. He started stepping towards the thick forest on the outskirts of his village, the forest that he has always seen a quiet haven, but now he seemed a mirror for his psychological state: dark, complex, full of shadows and dangerous. Every step was heavy, every breath carries with it a feeling of fear and loneliness. High trees, dark shadows, and even the darkness that infiltrates the branches made him feel strange in a world that was not created for him, a world without mercy or safety.
The first isolation days
The first days were a harsh test. Hunger was rampant, the cold penetrated his body, and loneliness pressure his mind as if it were a wall that could not be overcome. He sometimes felt as if the forest itself was watching it, governing its long mark. But he began to notice small things: the course of the river that provides fresh water, trees that give it shade and protection, the corners that prevent any predatory monster from reaching it easily. With every day he passes, every step he took in the forest, the strength of his body and his soul was growing, even if it was small. Every small challenge left an impact on it, every victory over fear or the difficulty of nature was sowing a feeling that it was not just a victim anymore.
The movement of birds, wind sounds began between branches, the movement of small animals, even the sounds of water flowing in the river. Everything has become a source of knowledge, every movement and vibration in the forest was referring to him the presence of other creatures, or a suitable moment to move with caution. Notice the light change during the day, how it is reflected on the leaves of tree, and how it can use shades to protect itself.
The battle between local monsters
One day, while he was walking between dense trees, he watched a violent battle between local monsters. The earth shook under its strikes, the trees collapsed, and the blood flying in the air. Ryan freezed in his place, his heart beats quickly, but he did not escape. This scene was scary, but it also woke it up in a strange way: realizing the size of the real world, the size of the forces that exceeded its understanding or control.
He sat watching for hours, studying every movement, every exploitation of the environment by monsters, every timing in attack and defense. Note that the monsters that depend on the note and the simple tactic stand longer than the monsters that depend only on the strength. He began to repeat for himself in a low voice: "Power alone is not enough ... note and patience are what makes staying."
Over time, Ryan began experimenting with training on his body: lifting heavy stones, climbing trees, running for long distances, trying to improve his reactions. Every movement was physically and psychologically tired, but for the first time since the massacre, he felt that he had a goal, that every wound and every fatigue has a meaning. At night, he was sitting under the dark sky, looking at the stars, imagining every moment of weakness that he would overcome, every fear he would overcome, every moment of weakness would become the source of his strength later.
The nightmares were getting worse. He saw the faces of those who lost them, heard the screams of the village, watching the fire devouring everything again. But he did not escape from it, but rather began to confront it, trying to remain conscious inside his dream, watching monsters and accidents, learning from every movement, testing himself in every confrontation within his dreams.
And with every confrontation with the monsters in the woods, no matter how small, he learned something about his reactions, about his patience, about his hidden strength. Sometimes he pursues a small animal, monitors his movement accurately, mimics his patience and swooping, and learns tactics from the same nature. Every small success gave him a sense of confidence, and every failure was a harsh but necessary lesson.
With the passage of days, he became noticing the details of the forest accurately: the movement of the breeze between the branches, the feet of the various animals occurred, the sound of water flowing in the course of the river, even the sounds of night birds became for him signals that can be relied upon to understand his surroundings. He was writing in his mind all these notes, every small and large, as if the forest itself gave him survival lessons.