Sunlight gently filtered through the trees, scattering soft patterns on the forest floor. The warmth was a welcome break from the biting winds that swept across Ulrik.
Aria closed her eyes, letting the light touch her skin. It felt like forever since she'd last seen the sun.
This winter had been especially cruel. She had spent most of it locked inside her small hut while snow piled high outside, burying the land in silence.
"Kuhuuu!"
Her face lit up as a small bird fluttered down and landed on her shoulder. She smiled at it warmly.
"Era niya royema renin lan su wuya sa bhe." (Let's find something for you to eat too.)
She continued walking, the bamboo basket at her side clicking softly with each step. She had come out to collect firewood—enough to keep her warm and cook her meals. The cold kept her stored vegetables from spoiling, but she still needed to prepare them.
Aria thought of her grandmother's warnings about going out alone. Back then, she only needed to climb the hills twice a month for supplies. Her grandmother rarely let her leave. But things had changed since her passing three months ago.
The memory struck like a sudden chill. Aria blinked away tears.
She hadn't truly known what loneliness was until now. Her grandmother's comforting presence was gone, leaving a deep emptiness behind. At night, the silence grew heavy. Aria would curl into her blanket, stifling her sobs, longing for her grandmother's embrace.
"Kuhuuuu!"
The bird chirped louder, as if it felt her sadness. It circled her joyfully, and Aria couldn't help but chuckle.
"Lu Kanta Nemi Pur Urusa Noni Yukl Ro Pur Bhe." (Yes, we can't stay sad—Grandma wouldn't want that.)
The bird chirped again, as though it agreed.
She found some seeds and offered them. As the bird pecked eagerly, she reached into her basket for the axe and walked toward a sturdy tree. But just as she stepped forward, her foot slipped on uneven ground.
"Ah!" she gasped.
She reached out, and before she hit the ground, a vine suddenly uncoiled from a nearby tree, wrapping around her wrist and feet to steady her.
Heart pounding, she shook herself free. The vine quietly retreated.
She frowned, staring at the ground beneath her. It seemed more disturbed than the rest of the hill. Driven by curiosity and a strange sense of unease, she knelt to clear away the leaves.
Her breath caught.
A flash of metal glinted beneath the dirt. As she brushed it aside, the dark, dried blood clinging to the edge made her shiver.
Blood.
She had seen it only a few times—her own scrapes, and worse, a few other times before her grandmother's death when she had started coughing up blood. Her grandmother would try to conceal it but the poor state of her body had left her unable to wash her clothes and eventually Aria came to see it. With trembling hands and red eyes, she would wash those clothes wishing for her grandmother's illness to go away just like the blood would leave those clothes.
But she had been too hopeful. Her grandmother's illness was not like those washed clean clothes. It was like that dark red water. It only worsened ...just like how the blood coloured clothes made the water darker day by day.
Maybe that was why blood frightened her so much.
But what was this bloodied metal doing here? How had it ended up in her quiet, lonely corner of the world?
Driven by the need to understand, she kept clearing the area. Then she froze.
A leg—covered in mud-stained clothing—appeared before her.
A person.
Aria's body tensed. She should have run. Her grandmother would have dragged her away by now with a sharp look and stern warning.
But Aria didn't move.
She dug faster, her hands shaking. Leaves flew aside. Mud slipped through her fingers. Finally, she uncovered him—a young man.
Even injured and half-buried, there was something striking about him. His face was pale, his lips dry and cracked, but his features were calm and almost beautiful.
Then she saw it.
Her eyes widened in horror. A jagged piece of metal jutted out from his chest, his clothes soaked with blood. The mud clung to the wound. He looked like he had been lying there a long time.
Could she help him?
Or would the water be darker this time?