Warmth.
That was the first thing Darwin felt—faint, gentle warmth creeping across his numb fingers. He knew he was still inside the cave, lying near the small dying fire. But the warmth wasn't coming from the flames.
It came from somewhere deeper.
Somewhere familiar.
A memory.
The world blurred—
and then reshaped.
The cold stone floor faded into soft green grass.
The echoing wind turned into the whisper of rustling leaves.
The sharp scent of snow became the mild fragrance of tea and old wood.
Darwin blinked slowly.
And found himself standing in his grandfather's backyard.
The same place he wandered every day as a child.
The same place Damisk Elkevis—Sword God, hero, legend—always sat under the large tree, sharpening his blade or telling stories no one else would ever hear.
A shadow fell over him.
"Darwin."
The voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket. Darwin turned—and his breath caught.
"Grandpa…"
There he was.
Damisk Elkevis.
Tall, broad-shouldered, white hair tied back neatly, red eyes both sharp and gentle. His presence alone brought more comfort than any fire ever could.
Darwin's small ten-year-old self stared up at him.
It wasn't just a dream.
It wasn't just a memory.
It was something deeper—
**something his mind had locked away.**
Damisk sat down, placing an old sword across his knees. The blade shimmered faintly, a beautiful, ancient metal with a glow that didn't belong to this world.
"Darwin," Damisk began, "do you know why humans won the war against the Malives—the beings from the other world?"
Darwin shook his head.
Damisk lifted the sword slightly.
"This blade… my partner for a very long time… is the reason."
Ten-year-old Darwin's eyes widened.
"Grandpa… you're giving it to me?"
A warm laugh escaped Damisk.
"It is not my decision. The sword has chosen you."
"Me?" Darwin whispered, disbelief ringing in his tone.
"Yes," Damisk said simply.
He touched the hilt—and the sword dissolved into tiny blue particles, floating like fireflies. They gathered into a shining blue gem resting in his palm.
The gem pulsed gently.
Before Darwin could speak, the gem changed—
transforming into a pendant, smooth and transparent, hanging from a simple chain.
"When the right time comes," Damisk said, tying the pendant around Darwin's neck,
"this pendant will glare with your will and take the shape of your heart's essence."
Darwin touched it with trembling fingers.
His grandfather smiled softly.
And the world began to fade.
The warm grass vanished.
The tree dissolved into mist.
Damisk's voice stretched, distant but firm.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
---
Darwin gasped—and woke.
The cave ceiling loomed above him, silent and cold. The fire beside him had shrunk into weak red embers. Snowflakes drifted lightly at the entrance of the cave.
Sweat clung to his skin.
His breath trembled.
His heart thudded painfully.
"Grandpa…"
His voice barely left his lips.
He pressed a shaking hand over the pendant on his chest. It was cold now—transparent, lifeless.
Just like it was the night he was exiled.
Darwin swallowed, trembling.
"That memory… I…"
He tried to hold onto it, tried to remember everything clearly—
But even now, the edges blurred.
Most of that day was still locked away.
Only the fragment—only the moment with the sword—remained.
His chest tightened.
"…Why?" he whispered.
"Why don't I remember anything else from that day…?"
His voice cracked softly, echoing in the hollow cave.
He waited—
for an answer from the pendant, from the memory, from the past.
None came.
Outside, the wind whispered faintly.
Darwin lowered his head, pressing the pendant to his forehead for a moment.
"…Grandpa… what really happened?"
There was only silence.
And Darwin knew nothing would return on its own.
He exhaled shakily, forcing himself to sit up.
He still had to survive the day.
He still had to escape the Ice Hound.
He still had to stay alive long enough to find the rest of his memories.
Slowly, painfully, Darwin stood—
and stepped out of the cave into the cold morning.
The first fragment still echoed in his mind.
But the question echoed louder:
**"Why can't I remember anything from that day?"**
---