Zen wandered like a ghost through the trees.
His small feet dragged over roots and stones, every step slower than the last. The sun was fading, and with it, his strength. Shadows crept from the trunks of old trees. His breath came out in cold bursts.
Then—
He saw it.
A cave, tucked into the base of a hill.
Its entrance was mostly sealed by a massive, jagged boulder. But near the edge, there was a narrow crack just wide enough for a small child.
Zen's heart raced. He crawled through it, squeezing past the stone. His arms shook, and his knees scraped against rock. When he finally slipped inside, darkness swallowed him whole.
The cave was silent. Cold. Safe.
At least for now.
He curled up against the wall, hugging the Aegis Tear to his chest. But the necklace didn't warm him. His body trembled violently—wounds burning, blood crusted on his legs and elbows. His stomach growled, sharp and empty. His lips were dry and cracked.
"I'll die like this…" he whispered.
"Alone…"
But then, something stirred inside him.
A flicker—not from the Aegis Tear, but from deep within.
It wasn't warm. It wasn't light.
It was fierce. Like a silent scream locked inside his chest, refusing to fade.
"Live."
He crawled to a corner where a patch of dry leaves had blown in. Around him, bits of dead wood lay scattered from past storms. He remembered a page in a book his mother read with him—The Beginner's Flame.
Flint. Dry leaves. Friction.
His hands reached for two rough stones.
He struck them together.
Sparks. No fire.
He tried again. And again.
His arms were too weak. His body swayed.
He collapsed forward, eyes half-closed. Everything felt far away.
But the spark inside him did not go out.
He forced himself up—barely breathing.
Struck again.
And again.
And then—
Flame.
Tiny. Flickering.
Zen fell backward and stared at the fire like it was a miracle. His body crawled toward the heat, fingers trembling. Warmth seeped into his blood, and tears spilled down his face again.
He lived.
He had to.
The Hunger -
The fire couldn't fill his stomach.
As the sky turned to dusk, Zen peeked outside the cave, heart thudding.
He was still scared. Monsters could be out there. Even people.
But the pain in his stomach was sharper than fear.
He crept out, moving low, eyes darting. At the riverbank, he saw fish swimming under the surface, but he had no net, no spear, no clue how to catch them.
He backed away.
And then he saw a patch of green nearby. Leaves—broad, pale green with red edges.
He recognized them.
Edible bitterleaf, one of the few wild plants he had studied in the castle's library. He chewed on them, barely tasting anything. His stomach eased… but not enough.
He wandered deeper, drawn by the need for more.
The Girl Beneath the Tree -
Then he stopped.
There, in the middle of the forest, stood a girl.
She had long, white hair that shimmered slightly in the fading light, tied back with a dark ribbon. A few strands curled against her cheeks. She wore a rough, moss-colored cloak and carried a handwoven basket half-filled with red apples. Her skin was pale, and her eyes sharp and icy blue scanned the branches above as she reached for another apple, humming softly to herself.
Zen froze behind a wide tree, heart racing.
Someone else… A human…
His eyes weren't on her.
They were on the apples.
He hadn't eaten fruit in days. His throat ached for sweetness, his stomach twisted again. But his feet wouldn't move.
He didn't trust her.
Not anymore.
Not after what the others did.
He stayed in the shadows, watching her, silent, still, and trembling.
Zen's fingers dug into the tree bark.
The apples glowed red in the girl's basket, smooth and full so close yet unreachable. His mouth watered. His stomach clenched again with a deep, aching hunger. But still… he didn't move.
What if she was like the others?
What if she hurt him too?
But… she didn't look dangerous.
The girl moved with a quiet gentleness, her bare feet barely rustling the leaves. She didn't carry a weapon. Only a basket and a soft hum that floated into the stillness.
Zen slowly inched to the side, barely peeking.
Snap.
A twig broke beneath his foot.
His breath caught.
The girl turned sharply.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice light, but cautious.
Zen ducked behind the tree, heart pounding in his ears. He held his breath so tightly it hurt. He could hear her steps moving closer. Leaves crunching. The soft sway of her cloak brushing the ground.
"...Are you hurt?" she asked gently. "I won't come closer. Just say something."
Silence.
Zen's nails scraped his palm. He didn't trust her but the pain in his body, the fire in his stomach it was stronger than his fear.
His voice finally cracked out, barely louder than a whisper.
"I… I'm hungry…"
The girl paused.
Then, slowly, she knelt down and set her basket on the ground. "There's food here. You can take some if you need it. I won't stop you."
She stood and stepped away, back turned.
Zen watched her for a long moment, then stepped out slowly, shakily. Dirt clung to his torn clothes. His eyes were red and swollen. Blood still stained his knees.
He moved toward the basket like a frightened animal.
One hand reached in and took an apple.
The girl didn't turn.
He backed away just as carefully.
And then he ran back into the trees, clutching the apple tight.