In a forest far from memory, a girl wakes up to steel and suspicion. But fate has not brought her here to die... it brought her to change everything.
⸻
I woke up with a scream caught in my throat and pain slicing down my back. My limbs were stiff, my throat dry—and a sword was pointing straight at me.
I blinked.
The blade gleamed under a moon I didn't recognize, and just beyond it was a man with a harsh face and unblinking eyes.
"Who are you?"
"What are you doing here?"
The words didn't match my tongue, and yet—I understood them.
Every syllable.
Every threat.
My lips parted, but no sound came out.
I had no answer. Not because I was afraid—though I was—but because...
I didn't know.
I didn't know my name.
I didn't know why I was here.
I didn't know what came before this moment.
Nothing.
"Speak now or I'll cut out your tongue!"
The threat lashed through the air like a whip, and before I could even inhale, his hand closed around my collar.
He yanked me up like I weighed nothing—like I wasn't a person, just some ragdoll dropped from the sky. My knees gave way, scraping the rough forest floor. Panic clawed up my throat as he dragged me forward, my fingers digging into his arm, nails biting through fabric and skin. But his grip didn't loosen.
He didn't care.
The air reeked of smoke and sweat.
Then I saw it—a bonfire.
Crackling in the darkness like some ancient beast.
And beyond the flames—soldiers.
Dozens of them. Maybe more.
Their eyes burned as they turned toward me, one by one.
No faces I knew. No sympathy.
Just armor, weapons... and the kind of silence that made your heart forget how to beat.
I stumbled into their circle, a stranger in strange clothes, breathing like I'd just been chased by death.
And maybe I had.
Their gazes pinned me in place, sharp with hunger and disbelief.
"Is that... a woman?"
"Dressed like that? A spy, maybe."
I clutched my arms over my chest, curling inward as they circled me like wolves. One of them stepped closer, the glint in his eye unmistakable. I flinched.
Then—another voice. Calm, composed.
"Rikito. What do you have there?"
The tension shifted.
The soldiers straightened at once. I peeked up from my knees—and saw him.
A man with broad shoulders, graying hair tied back with a leather band, and an expression both curious and commanding. His presence changed the air around us.
He walked toward me slowly. His voice was a low hum, smooth as wind over water.
"Well now... What's your name, milady?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came. His eyes softened.
"You're not from here, are you?"
He crouched down until our eyes were level.
"Someone as beautiful as you should not be alone in a place like this."
I should have answered.
I wanted to answer.
But instead, I whispered the only word that came to me like instinct.
"Helena."
He smiled.
"Helena," he repeated, as if trying it on.
"A name not of this land... fitting."
"Then Helena you shall be. But the world will know you as something else."
He stood up and extended a hand.
"I am Saitō Dōsan. And from this moment on... you are my daughter."
⸻
He led me away from the circle.
The soldiers bowed as we passed. The man—Rikito—still glared, but he didn't speak again.
A river flowed nearby. The moonlight danced on its surface. I stumbled beside Dōsan, barely able to walk. He didn't rush me. When I swayed, he offered his arm. When I shook, he kept silent.
"You're safe now, Helena," he murmured.
For reasons I couldn't explain... I believed him.
⸻
His tent smelled of sandalwood and old parchment. A lacquered tray held a teapot, untouched. I didn't sit until he gestured to a cushion near the brazier.
He poured me tea himself.
"You understand me. But you don't speak like we do."
I nodded.
"You remember nothing?"
I shook my head. I expected frustration. Suspicion. Another sword.
Instead, he smiled with pity.
"Then this world has truly stolen you."
I looked down at my shaking hands. They didn't feel like mine.
"This name—Helena," he said, gently.
"It came to you unbidden. That means it's real. It's yours."
I clutched the cup tighter. The warmth grounded me.
"Then Helena it is," I whispered.
"But... why would you call me your daughter?"
He leaned back, folding his arms in his sleeves like a scholar considering a scroll.
"Because the world is cruel to women without names. And even crueler to foreigners who arrive without explanation."
His eyes sparkled.
"But if they believe you are of my blood, they will not question you. They will revere you. Fear you."
"And... I have need of a daughter."
⸻
Outside, the camp quieted. The wind picked up.
I looked across the tent at this strange, powerful man who had spared me, named me, and claimed me.
I did not know who I was.
But for now... I would be Helena.
And the rest, I would learn.