"What was that…? What did he mean by 'part of the world'? I… I don't understand."
The demon's final words still echoed in my head. "Survive."
It wasn't a request — it was a command.
A chill ran down my spine, the kind that never leaves.
Something was going to happen.
Someone — or something — was coming for me.
I could feel it.
I tore a large leaf from a nearby bush and pressed it over my left eye. The pain was sharp, pulsing beneath my skin.
"My eye… it hurts," I whispered.
A darker thought crept in — quiet, venomous: Would it be better if I just died?
My chest tightened.
"Mother… Father… You're gone because of me."
The guilt dug deep.
"They were right… if I hadn't been born, they'd still be alive."
I walked aimlessly, my mind lost in that pit of self-hatred.
Then, out of nowhere—
> "Hey! Who are you?"
Two guards appeared on the dirt path, hands resting on their blades. Their armor gleamed faintly in the sun.
"I— I'm Levin," I lied quickly.
"Where are you from?" one of them asked, suspicion in his tone.
My throat tightened. If I say the wrong thing, they'll know.
Before I could answer, a voice came from behind me.
> "That boy's with me," the man said calmly.
"He's Darel."
The guards exchanged glances.
"Alright. Be careful with him," one muttered before stepping aside.
I turned, curious.
The man behind me had a rough, quiet strength — short black hair, a scar across his jaw, and eyes that seemed to measure everything.
"Who are you?" I asked cautiously.
"I'm Darel," he replied. "A swordsman."
"…I'm Levin."
He studied me for a moment.
His eyes lingered on the leaf covering my left eye.
"Why's your eye covered?"
"None of your business," I said sharply.
He chuckled. "Hmm. Gray hair, one covered eye… You're quite the mysterious kid."
"Shut up," I snapped.
"Easy there, lion cub," he said with a smirk.
I wanted to yell, but before I could—
A vision tore through my mind.
> "Mother…?"
"Die… die… DIE!"
"Aah! AHHH!" I clutched my head, stumbling.
"Hey! You alright, kid?" Darel's voice broke through the blur.
"Shut up… please, stop… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" I muttered, trembling.
He didn't press further.
Instead, he stepped closer — and placed a hand on my shoulder.
Then he pulled me into an embrace.
It was… warm.
Strong.
For a second, it felt like my father was holding me again.
My knees gave way. Everything went dark.
---
When I opened my eyes, I was lying on a bed. The room smelled faintly of wood and smoke.
"Where… am I?"
"My home," said a familiar voice.
Darel stood beside the door, arms crossed.
Relief and caution mixed inside me.
"Thanks," I murmured.
"You must be hungry," he said, placing a plate of bread and meat in front of me.
"Eat."
I hesitated, staring at the food. What if it's poisoned? I thought.
Darel noticed the suspicion in my eyes. Without a word, he took a piece from the same plate and ate it.
"See? No poison," he said simply.
I took a small bite. Warm. Real. My stomach growled in gratitude.
"Why are you helping me?" I finally asked.
He shrugged. "Shouldn't a man help someone in need?"
I looked down.
No one had ever said that to me before.
Then his voice softened, but his question hit deep.
"What happened to your parents, kid?"
Something snapped inside me.
My vision blurred red.
My left eye burned.
And then — that voice.
> "Good… that's it… feed the hate…"
The Demon's whisper slithered through my mind.
I clenched my fists.
"I need to stay calm," I whispered to myself.
Then, I spoke — slow, steady, but trembling inside:
"In my old village… they killed my parents."
Silence.
Darel didn't ask anything else.
He just looked away, his expression unreadable.
And for the first time in days, the world went quiet again.
But I knew…
That silence wouldn't last.
---