Birdsong from afar was the first thing Arian heard when he opened his eyes.
The light filtering through the trees slipped gently into the dilapidated room, and dew still clung to the broken windowpane.
He breathed slowly, his chest rising and falling as if trying to convince himself he was still alive.
The new house they had moved him to wasn't truly a house.
It was a small wooden hut, leaning slightly to the west, surrounded by tall trees that seemed like a natural prison.
The ground was damp, the scent of earth filled the air, and the roof creaked with every gust of wind.
Arian sat on the bed, hair tousled, face pale from lack of sleep.
He looked around…
Everything was simple, poor, cold.
As if the academy had decided to cut him off from the world—away from people, away from noise.
He muttered to himself as he reached for the old table:
– "Even the sun doesn't want to come in here…"
He stepped outside. The air was cold and refreshing, yet carried a sense of isolation.
The forest around him was silent, as if watching him in quiet.
He looked up; the towering trees covered the sky, turning the light above him into a frozen gray twilight.
He walked slowly away from the hut, hearing the rustle of leaves underfoot, and the faint sound of a distant river.
In a place like this, no one even knew he existed.
And that was exactly what they wanted—solitude, oblivion, a test of patience.
He sat on a small stone, dipping his hand into the mud and smearing it on his pants.
The silence was suffocating.
Yet, strangely comforting… as if the entire forest embraced him, even without words.
Suddenly, amidst all that stillness, he heard light footsteps behind him.
He spun around quickly, surprise flashing in his eyes.
Celia.
She stood among the trees, her hair swaying with the wind, sunlight streaking across her face.
She spoke softly:
– "I didn't expect to find you here alone."
He gave a faint smile, half pained, half mocking:
– "Who's left to remember me, anyway, to come find me?"
She approached slowly, careful but steady steps.
Looking around, she said:
– "This place… even its sound is strange. You can feel the forest breathing."
– "Maybe it breathes better than people,"
Arian replied, his tone broken but sincere.
She sat on a stone across from him, her eyes quietly studying him, as if trying to understand all that lay within.
Then she said warmly:
– "I knew they'd move you far away… but I didn't expect this. It's cruel."
He shook his head slowly:
– "Doesn't matter… maybe it's better this way. At least no one will laugh at me here."
She gave him a sad look, then said:
– "Those who laugh at someone trying… are the weak ones themselves."
Silence.
Her words touched his heart quietly, yet hurt at the same time.
He stared at the ground, saying:
– "I didn't ask for anything… I thought effort alone would be enough, but apparently, they measure by results, not struggle."
Celia reached out, placing her hand on a stone near him lightly:
– "Sometimes you need to step away to find your path. This forest… maybe it's the beginning of your true journey."
He looked up at her, a faint glimmer appearing in his eyes.
The air was still, and the birdsong faded, as if nature itself was listening to her.
He said softly:
– "Maybe… but the road feels so long."
– "As long as you still have one step ahead, the journey isn't over."
He smiled faintly, a weak yet genuine smile.
Celia stood, brushing the dust from her clothes, and gave him a small smile:
– "I'll leave you to rest… but promise me you won't shut yourself off."
– "I'll try."
– "And don't forget… I'm here if you need to talk."
She turned and walked between the trees, sunlight glinting off her golden hair like a small ray amidst the dense shadows.
Arian stood watching until she disappeared, then lifted his gaze to the sky.
The wind stirred, leaves dancing in the air.
He felt something strange, as if the forest itself were shifting.
But in his heart, a small seed was planted—a spark of something new—not full hope, but the beginning of warmth.
He murmured softly:
"Maybe this place isn't a curse… maybe it's a chance."