On a frigid night, a pale and slender young man was gathering firewood in a forest bathed in moonlight. With every exhale, his breath mingled with the air like white vapor, and his fingers, numb from the cold, continued their labor. Once he had collected enough wood to last the night, he took a deep breath. He carefully bound the bundle with rope, hoisted it onto his back, and set off toward home.
The forest was silent. Only the crunching of dry branches beneath his feet broke the stillness. After walking for a while, he suddenly halted. A peculiar scent reached his nose. He frowned and sniffed the air. It was a familiar smell.
Soot.
His heart began to race. He quickened his pace, then surged forward with hurried strides. His chest tightened, and a sense of dread washed over him.
Soon, he saw black smoke billowing into the sky through the trees. His pupils dilated. He cast the firewood from his back and started running.
The crackling of flames tore through the silence of the forest.
When he emerged from the trees and reached the clearing, he froze in place. The wooden cabin where he lived with his family was engulfed in flames. The fire rose as if devouring the darkness, scattering sparks into the night.
For several seconds, he could do nothing. It was as if his body no longer belonged to him.
Then suddenly, his mother, his father, and his little sibling flashed through his mind.
Where were they?
He had only been gone for a few hours. What had happened in that time?
A sharp pain pierced his head. His throat constricted. His knees began to tremble. His breath hitched.
"Mother…" he whispered.
But no sound came out.
His eyes searched frantically within the flames. The fear filling him grew until it felt as though his heart would shatter his chest.
He was in shock.
When he finally came to his senses, he realized his body was drenched in sweat. The strength in his knees had given out. He was struggling even to walk. It was as if the ground were slipping beneath his feet, as if gravity itself were trying to hold him back.
As he drew closer to the cabin, the agony in his heart intensified, and the scorching flames surged toward him as if beckoning.
And there…
Someone was lying on the ground, stretched out face down.
Tattered, worn-out clothes… covered in blood.
It was his father.
His poor father… who had worked his entire life to provide for his family, who had never known a day of ease, his ailing father.
The young man sank to his knees. With trembling hands, he turned his father's face toward him. His clothes were riddled with cuts. Blood had soaked into the earth.
His eyes burned as if they were about to burst. Every part of his body ached terribly.
He wanted to cry. But the tears would not come.
Someone… or some people… had taken everything from him.