When I opened my eyes, sunlight stabbed straight into them.
Cold water ran past my hand, and my head… it felt like someone had smashed a rock on it.
The air smelled clean, too clean. I was lying beside a river, surrounded by huge green trees, birds calling from every direction. For a few minutes, I just sat there, staring at the water. My reflection looked back—muddy face, strange clothes made of fur and leaves.
Where was I?
My head throbbed harder the more I tried to remember. Nothing came. No name. No home. Nothing but flashes—
A bow in my hands.
A red sky.
Someone shouting my name as fire swallowed everything.
Then, nothing.
The next moment, I was here.
I stood up and started walking, barefoot through the wet grass. My body felt weak but alive. The jungle whispered around me—soft wind, insects, distant drums maybe?
Then I saw them.
A group of people, brown-skinned, wearing animal hides and wooden beads. They were laughing, carrying fruits and meat tied in ropes. One of them noticed me and shouted something in a language I couldn't understand.
"Ah—uhh…" I raised my hands. "Hi?"
They looked at each other, confused. Then one man stepped forward—taller than the rest, with a scar across his cheek and a grin that could only belong to a troublemaker.
He pointed at me and said something that sounded like, "Floke?"
I blinked. "What?"
He laughed, slapped my shoulder, and said again, slower, "Floo-ke!"
I guess that was my name now.
Later, I found out his name was Sham. And Sham… was annoying. The kind of friend who laughed at every mistake I made, even when I didn't understand the joke.
Those first days were hard. Everyone spoke fast, and I didn't understand a word. Whenever I tried to talk, Sham burst out laughing. Sometimes the kids copied my broken words and laughed too.
Still, they didn't treat me badly. They thought I had lost my memory, and instead of pushing me away, they helped.
The tribe head, Elder Raku, was the first to sit me down. He spoke slowly, showing me things—pointing at the sun, saying a word, waiting for me to repeat.
I failed a lot. But day after day, the words started to make sense.
Six months passed like that. I began to understand their jokes, their food, even their silences. I could almost call this place… home.
But something about me was still strange.
I could hear footsteps before people appeared. I could smell when someone was cooking from far away. When a branch snapped in the jungle, I could tell which direction it came from.
The others said I was "touched by the spirits." Elder Raku just smiled and told me, "The jungle gave you new ears, Floke of the Red Tribe. Use them well."
So they gave me a duty—to help gather food and hunt with others. My sharp senses helped me find fruits, track animals, and sometimes warn them of danger before it arrived.
The tribe started trusting me more. Sham even stopped teasing me all the time—well, almost.
At night, we'd sit around the fire, eating roasted meat while kids danced and old people sang. The jungle was warm, alive, and it finally felt like I belonged.
But every now and then, when I closed my eyes, I saw that same flash—
a bow in my hands,
a sky burning red,
and the sound of my own scream fading into silence.
And I still didn't know why.