“Where am I?”

It’s strangely bright, brighter than any summer light he had experienced in the forest. Avalel stretches his arms, feeling the light tickle his skin. Strange, considering that it usually warmly massages him, making him feel comfortable and awake. Eight blades of grass poke at his feet, the toes flinching a little at the sensation. He’s definitely not indoors in his room. Did he sleepwalk or something? Not that he has seen anyone do it before. Or perhaps his dad had decided to move him to the outdoors as part of one of his surprises or antics.

Yet as his eyes start to adjust, he realizes he is nowhere near the forest. Instead of trees stretching towards the sky, there are only millions of blades of grass content to be rooted to the ground. As his hands brush against them, they make no effort to resist his force, bending to his will. When he stands, the grass follows, erect and proud. When he sits on them, they fall flat again, never daring to jab at his flesh.

“Uh… Dad?” he calls for his only guardian in this moment of confusion. Everything just seems so unfamiliar to him. The obedience of the grass is unnerving. The empty expanse of the area is so soulless, the near-perfection of the picturesque landscape so unnatural. Even in the eastern boundaries of the forest lies a mountain range, but for this field, there is simply nothing of note. He begins to daydream as he always has, thinking of some fantastical realm in the Outside he might be able to explore.

As he looks into the horizon, he suddenly feels a shadow bearing upon him, appearing rather… humanoid. How he didn’t realize or hear the grass shaking, he doesn’t really know.

“Hey, uh…” As he looks up, he sees only the outline of a man. A transparent outline.

“He” isn’t particularly intimidating in appearance alone, being just a silent figure looming over Avalel. In fact, if Avalel has to guess, they’re probably around the same height. The figure is just standing there, yet there’s something... off that Avalel feels from the silhouette, and instinctively, he finds himself shuffling back just a little before standing up to face the figure. For a child twelve years of age, he believes himself to be a rather brave individual, but without his dad, he does feel just a little scared. Just a little, as he shrinks away a step.

“Come,” the figure beckons, like a father calling out to his child. And despite all those little bits of fear earlier, young Avalel takes a step forward. Then another. Soon, he can even make out the details of the figure, the features revealed through little reflections of light.

The figure seems to be someone of high standing to Avalel, or at least, maybe a rich man. He hasn’t seen one, after all. A white, ornately decorated cloak covers most of his body. Elaborate patterns, somewhat resembling vines or wings, are embroidered on the sleeves of his coat and buttoned shirt. However, there is a splash of crimson on his chest, the faint, stale smell of iron drifting out among the fragrance of perfume.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” the figure asks softly. “Do you know what it is?”

Avalel doesn’t answer. He is quite familiar with blood, often seeing it after tripping on a stone or scratching himself against a thorny bush. But for some unknown reason, he begins to break into a cold sweat, shaking as his vision blurs. A strong urge to flee overcomes his mind, but no part of his body can move beyond a step.

Whatever it is, for the young boy, it is overwhelmingly frightening.

“Please don’t be afraid,” the figure says, perhaps even with a bit of desperation as he tries to reach towards Avalel in an embrace. Instead, the transparent arms slip through, unable to grab onto any part of Avalel. The figure himself takes a step closer, trying to just, somehow, be able to comfort Avalel with his own ghostly body. Disappointingly, the two of them simply cannot make contact.

But it is, for some reason, already enough. Avalel feels his mind going blank. Strangely enough, instead of fear, he feels comfort and warmth being blanketed by this husk of a figure, a moment of solace in this absurd dream.

“Wake up!” A shout roars across the landscape. His senses jolt back to him, feeling an invisible force tug at him and away from the figure. Yet even as he begins to slip back into the unconscious, the figure continues to stand there, a smile on his face.

As the realm collapses, Avalel notices a small girl standing behind the figure, holding a sword too large for her size.

She turns her head towards him.

He shudders.

His vision goes black.

“Wake up!” the same shout echoes in his ears.

“Hngh…” Avalel groans. Somehow, he isn’t as annoyed by that loud voice as he usually would be. At the very least, he knows he’s back, the scene from earlier already fading away from his memories.

“I know you’re awake, Avalel. Now get up. Today’s a big day!” Avalel feels the sudden coolness of the morning air rush into his clothes, the comforts of his warm blanket forcefully leaving him. Jolting up from the sharp dip in temperature, Avalel finds his father, Faresoenn, looking at him, the characteristic green eyes so energetic and awake.

His father is like many of the foresters in the Tarevuen: tall, skinny, athletic, and of course, a little overboard on the cheerful side. Although his speech is usually softer and more refined than many of the foresters, Faresoenn’s shouts can be surprisingly loud and rough. Being a single father at the age of forty four is quite the difficult circumstance, but from Avalel’s perspective, Faresoenn has never faltered. Collecting firewood, cooking, doing the chores helping other foresters with carrying their goods around… He is simply Avalel’s faultless hero.

Well, not exactly. Faresoenn does have one fault: being far too direct and rude at the small things in life… such as waking his son up.

“Come on, Dad, you say every day’s a big day,” Avalel groans as he quickly slips on a loose, slightly torn jacket. “It’s just another school day, isn’t it?”

“You have to treasure these days as well,” Faresoenn smiles, albeit with a sigh following it. “You know, I want to be in school like you are now.”

“Oh, come on. You’re nearly an old geezer already!” Avalel laughs. “It’s probably been thirty years since you last learned your math and language!”

“A bit more than that, actually,” Faresoenn says, looking up to the ceiling. “Should be thirty one years.”

“You quit school when you were only thirteen years of age?” Avalel gasps. “How come I never knew about that?”

“You, little boy, need to focus on your studies before learning such useless details about your dad,” Faresoenn says, pretending to be annoyed as he pokes Avalel’s forehead. “C’mon, get changed quick.” With that, he departs from the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

“Aw…” Groaning, Avalel changes his clothing, hastily slipping on a rough beige tunic, a belt tightening it around his waist. Then, his mock leather arm guard, a birthday gift from Faresoenn almost a month ago. It isn’t really pretty, but to Avalel, it’s like his father is always by his side. A pair of dark green shorts, crumpled but with the fragrance of the trees, allow mobility for his legs. Finally, he steps into his brown knee-length boots and grabs his small gray bag.

He swings open the door, and sure enough, Faresoenn has already changed as well, holding a boiled potato in his hand.

“You’re pretty slow as usual,” Faresoenn remarks as he tosses the meal into Avalel’s hands. “Eat up while we walk. You don’t want to be late again, do you?”

“Wait—” but the middle-aged man has already left him behind, the door creaking as he goes.

“It’s like he’s the one going to school…” Avalel mutters. Shaking his head, he jogs out, quickly catching up to Faresoenn as the two of them resume a leisurely pace.

“I knew that’d make you a bit more motivated to walk faster,” Faresoenn says, rubbing Avalel’s soft brown hair. “You almost never leave my side, after all.”

“What do you mean?” Avalel protests as he adjusts his bag on his shoulders. “One day, I’ll leave this forest and explore the Outside that you talk about so much! Alone! I’ll eat all the fish I want, buy all the fancy clothes I can, and try out all those new things not here in Tarevuen!”

“You’ll be able to when you’re old enough. You need to learn how to protect yourself and others first.”

The Outside has always been everything that lay beyond the forest where he lives. Since he was little, Faresoenn had already told him many stories of the Outside, how there are places where hundreds of people live in the same building, food that is beyond even the wildest of imaginations, and even a thing called “comms” that people use to talk to another person from an extremely far distance. It’s almost like describing an alien world to him, a world so vast and beautiful, so much more than the forest he lives in. To think that none of the other villagers ever want to leave the forest once they settled in is just absurd!

And yet, every time Avalel asked to leave the forest, Faresoenn always told him “not yet”, or that Avalel isn’t “old enough”. Whatever the reason, he can only be patient.

Someday he’ll head out there and see the world. Maybe he’ll meet some friends, protecting each other’s backs as they explore the world. Maybe they’ll be famed adventurers and explorers, and when he finally returns to the forest, it’ll be his turn to tell Faresoenn his stories. Oh, the excitement!

“You’re only twelve, and you’re already thinking of exploring the world?” Faresoenn says. “How strange indeed.” He chuckles.

“How strange indeed…” Avalel mockingly imitates Faresoenn’s voice.

“Hey, that’s not how I sound!” Faresoenn protests while laughing at his son’s expressions.

“Oh yes,” Avalel insists as he takes a bite out of the potato. “How strange indeed.”

“That was an even worse imitation!”

The two of them continue laughing at each other, the path echoing with their jokes. Without anyone else on the path, it’s just a special little moment, father and son together with the trees as company. Slowly, Avalel begins to forget about the strange dream he had, becoming only part of his subconscious, drowned out by lighter, trivial thoughts.

“Wait,” Avalel says, stopping suddenly. “Dad, did you notice that?”

“Notice what?”

“There, you see it?” Avalel points to his right. There, a bush seems to be unnaturally wounded, a pile of fresh leaves and twigs still fluttering on the ground.

“Yes,” Faresoenn says dismissively as they walk closer to the abnormal bush. “We’ll look into it when school is over—” He suddenly pauses. In front of him, a boot print leads to the bush and beyond.

“... Dad?” Avalel asks, noticing the change in Faresoenn’s expression.

“Forget what I said earlier,” Faresoenn says, his face becoming stern. “Avalel, head to school yourself. I have something to do.”

“What’s going on?”

“There’s something dangerous in there. Just head to school yourself.”

“But— Wait!”

Faresoenn has already left him, sprinting into the forest.

“Urgh…” Avalel cannot be left alone. Stubbornly, he drops his bag and follows Faresoenn, diving deeper into the wild forest. The Elyfesta’s light is the same as before, shining down on him and the trees, but the forest looks just a little darker in his view, the shadows just a bit more prominent, the sounds of creatures slightly more frightening. Even if he regrets his decision now, it’s too late. He can’t just allow Faresoenn to leave him alone.

He finally arrives at a clearing. There, where the light of the Elyfesta pierces the trees, stands a small girl and two men. As for Faresoenn, however, he is nowhere to be seen. Avalel quickly ducks behind a bush and observes the group.

The girl has black hair, but where the light comes into contact, it seems to shine a glimmering silver. Her gray eyes are sharp, strongly etching her gaze into her pursuers’ minds. Her dirty clothes are foreign, the usually obvious stitches completely hidden from sight. She’s also surprisingly small, probably only eight years of age to him. And compare her to the tall, armored and armed men, an intimidating emblem emblazoned on their left shoulders… Just what is happening?

“Come with us, little one. We won’t hurt you,” one of them speaks calmly to the girl.

“Just follow us,” the other adds coldly.

“Kapa!” the girl shouts, spitting on the ground.

Avalel is afraid.

“You don’t need to be so rude,” the second replies. “We do not want to harm a child, but if you give us no choice…” He reaches for a metal object strapped to his belt.

“Wait,” Avalel realizes in horror. “Look out!”

A figure suddenly leaps out from the shadows, slamming themselves onto the two men. Before they can even react, they are already pinned down, their faces pushed against the dirt. They flail around but to no avail. The girl jumps back in shock, her eyes pinned on the figure.

And Avalel… His eyes fixate on Faresoenn, firmly holding the two men down. The usually cheerful face of his father is serious and grim, his strong arms not used to lift objects but push people down. It seems just so wholly unfamiliar, so… alien. It just doesn’t feel like him.

Is this truly his father, the gentle, caring figure he has grown to love and adore?

The girl stares at Faresoenn, her mouth just wide in shock. She’s trembling, her eyes fixated on the two struggling men and Faresoenn. She cannot even bring herself to move, pinned in place as she tries to utter a sentence.

“Dad…” Avalel steps out, much to the surprise of Faresoenn.

“Just…” the girl begins.

“Who are you?” they say simultaneously.