The sun rose gently over the countryside, spilling golden light over Ray's small garden. Morning dew glistened on the leaves as a breeze rolled down from the mountains. Birds chirped, the wind rustled the branches, and the faint hum of energy could be heard from the divine barrier that surrounded the house.
Inside, Ray stirred awake, stretched, and let out a tired sigh.
"It's morning already..."
The robot, already active, stood by the window with a broom in hand and a cleaning cloth in the other. Its voice remained soft but efficient.
"Master Ray. I've cleaned the living room, swept the kitchen, and reorganized the storage closet. Shall I continue with the rooftop runes?"
Ray rubbed his eyes and stood up, grabbing his gardening gloves.
"After breakfast. I'll be outside."
He stepped out with a yawn, walking barefoot across the wooden porch and down into the garden. Rows of vegetables, herbs, and rare spiritual plants stretched across the yard, perfectly arranged. Ray knelt beside the soil, his fingers brushing the earth as he checked each stalk carefully. He hummed quietly as he pulled weeds, trimmed leaves, and began watering them one by one.
As he moved toward a plot of sprouting mana-root, a thought struck him.
"These would grow better if I had a batch of Blooming Essence," he murmured. "But I used the last of it last month..."
His mind drifted. The potion needed three main ingredients, and he had two already harvested and preserved. The third—a silver-leafed herb called Drake's Vine—grew only in areas rich in ancient dragon mana.
A dragon's lair.
Ray stood, brushing dirt from his gloves. He glanced toward the distant mountain range cloaked in mist.
"Might as well stretch my wings a bit today."
He stepped into the air, and without the need for incantation or wings, ascended smoothly. The divine aura around him shimmered, cloaking his form in invisibility. The birds didn't flinch. The wind parted before him. He moved like a breeze carried on forgotten magic, quiet and unseen.
As Ray headed toward the beast-infested mountains, his path curved above a stretch of forest several kilometers from the village. A worn trail ran through the trees, leading deeper into the woods, and below—something caught his eye.
A boy.
---
The perspective shifted.
Mud caked his bare feet, and the cold wind stung his face as he stumbled over roots and rocks. The boy looked to be twelve or thirteen at most, with crimson hair that hung over his eyes and red irises that glimmered like embers under the sun. His clothes were torn at the sleeves, his stomach growled, and bruises dotted his arms. His breath was ragged.
Behind him, a carriage rolled away along the forest road.
Laughter echoed from it.
"That brat won't last a day in there."
"Serves him right for stealing. Dirty orphan."
"No food, no weapon, not even shoes. That forest's crawling with beasts. He'll be eaten by sunset."
They rode away without looking back.
The boy gritted his teeth, his fists clenched tight. He fell to his knees beside a moss-covered boulder and slammed his fist against the earth.
"I just wanted bread," he muttered. "I just... wanted to live..."
The wind answered him with silence. Birds above flapped away, as if sensing danger deeper in the woods. The trees whispered, and a chill crept through the air. Somewhere in the distance, a howl echoed.
The boy stood slowly, breathing heavily.
"If this forest is going to kill me... I'm going to kill something first."
His eyes blazed.
But before he could take another step, a presence washed over the forest. Calm, heavy, ancient. The birds grew quiet. The air stilled. Even the trees seemed to bow under its weight.
He looked up.
From the sky, a figure descended, dressed in blue and grey, white-haired, and glowing faintly in the morning light.
---
Ray landed softly on a branch overhead, arms crossed.
He stared down at the red-haired boy, curious. The boy looked malnourished, angry, and desperate—but there was something more. A thread of power hidden beneath the surface. A spark, perhaps.
Ray tilted his head.
"You'll catch a cold sitting in the dirt like that," he said casually.
The boy flinched and looked up, his body instinctively tensing.
"W-Who are you?" he shouted, taking a step back.
Ray ignored the question and dropped from the branch, landing without a sound. The ground didn't even stir under his boots.
"You're from the kingdom, right?" Ray asked, kneeling beside him. "Exiled?"
The boy said nothing, watching him carefully, unsure if he was a threat.
Ray glanced in the direction the carriage had gone. "Let me guess. They caught you stealing and threw you here thinking the forest would handle the rest."
Silence.
"Was it worth it?" Ray asked.
"I was starving," the boy said, barely audible. "If I didn't steal, I would've died anyway."
Ray nodded. He looked at the boy for a moment longer, then reached into his bag and pulled out a small wrapped pastry.
"Here."
The boy hesitated.
Ray offered no explanation. The boy snatched the food, unwrapped it quickly, and bit in. His eyes widened. It was warm, soft, and sweet—like something from a noble's banquet.
After finishing, he looked up again. "Who are you?"
Ray stretched and turned to look toward the mountains again.
"Just a neighbor," he said with a faint smile. "What's your name?"
The boy hesitated. "Kael."
"Alright, Kael. If you want to live, don't stay here. The beasts hunt by scent, and you reek of weakness."
Kael opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, Ray had already lifted off the ground. The man rose smoothly into the sky, disappearing into the clouds, leaving only silence behind.
Kael stood alone again—but something felt different now. He looked down at the pastry wrapping in his hand, then toward the path the man had flown.
The forest suddenly didn't feel as cold.