I'm back

   Darkness surrounded me, heavy and suffocating. It wasn’t just an absence of light—it was oppressive, clinging to my skin like cold, wet cloth. It pressed in from every side, endless and unrelenting.

   I couldn’t tell if I was standing or floating, couldn’t feel the ground beneath my feet or anything solid around me. The silence was deafening, a void swallowing every sound.

   The chill seeped into my bones, spreading through my body. My limbs felt numb, and my chest tightened as if the darkness itself was draining the life out of me.

   Is this it?  I wondered, the thought barely forming in my mind. My body felt heavy, and I was so, so tired.

   Slowly, I began to slip, my thoughts fading as an overwhelming drowsiness pulled me deeper into the void—

   “█████████████”

   “███████”

   “██████████”

   “█████████████████”

   “████”

   …What?

   The voice echoed through the darkness, firm yet distant. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t tell what it says. Was it real or just a fragment of my fading consciousness? As I started thinking my head felt like it was about to explode.

   It hurts.

   It hurts.

   It hurts It hurts. It hurts. It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!!!!

   And then, something began to shift. My brain, slow and heavy, started to flicker back to life. Like a dying engine coughing back into motion, sparks of awareness crackled somewhere deep inside my head. The pain didn’t disappear—but it sharpened, focused, as if dragging me back to the surface by force.

* * *

   My eyes fluttered open and, slowly, the stabbing pressure in my skull began to fade. The throb settled into a dull ache. My vision swam for a moment before settling on the wooden ceiling above me, bathed in warm morning light.

   It took me a moment to register where I was, but when I did, I let out a slow, relieved breath.

   This is Zephyra’s house...

   I tried to sit up, but the moment I moved, a sharp, searing pain shot through my back.

   “Ouch!” I winced, letting out a hiss of pain as I immediately lay back down. My hand instinctively brushed against the bandages wrapped tightly around my torso.

   Looking down, I noticed I wasn’t wearing a shirt. The bandages told me everything I needed to know. Someone had patched me up.

   I turned my head slightly, careful not to aggravate my injury, and scanned the room. It was unmistakably the room I was living in for the last month. The scent of pine lingered faintly in the air—clean, calming.

   Then I noticed her.

   Zephyra was slumped forward in a chair beside the bed, her upper body resting on the bed. Her dark hair spilled over the blanket in messy strands.

   I couldn’t help but smile faintly. 

   "Looks like I’m in your debt again."

   For a moment, I just watched her. But then her lips moved, and I realized she was mumbling something in her sleep.

   “Don’t... go away...” Her voice was quiet, almost pleading.

   I frowned slightly. "A bad dream?"

   “Give me... back... my beer... don’t run away...”

   “…”

   My brow twitched in irritation.

   “Hey, you alcohol addict."

   Leaning over as much as my aching back allowed, I reached out and pinched her nose as hard as possible.

   “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! What’s wrong?!” Zephyra yelped, jolting awake and sitting up straight, her hand flying to her face.

   “Wake up, sleeping princess,”

   Zephyra blinked groggily, rubbing her nose. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, she looked at me, narrowing her eyes as if deep in thought. “Why do I think that sounded sarcastic?”

   “Because it was,” I replied dryly.

   She straightened up, one hand on her hip and the other wagging a finger at me as though scolding a misbehaving child. “Compared to the first day you got here, you’ve become quite mouthy. Is this that famous ‘rebellious period’ in youth? Big sis is worried!”

   “When exactly did you become my big sister?!”

   At that, we both started laughing. The kind of laugh that slips out when tension breaks for a second and things just feel normal again. A stupid, genuine laugh.

   But when the sound faded, reality started creeping back in.

   The bear. The cage. The bandits. The elf girl in the hood. My back burning with pain.

   “What happened to the beastmen?” 

   Zephyra’s lips pressed into a thin line, and then she nodded. “They’re all safe. They’re resting downstairs right now.”

   “I see.” 

   I let out a small sigh of relief, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly.

   After a brief silence, Zephyra’s expression shifted, she looked at me with an uncharacteristic softness, her voice quieter than before.

   “Sora,” 

   “What?” I replied, arching an eyebrow.

   She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took my hand in hers. Her grip was firm yet trembling slightly.

   “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I was just scared that you might not be able to take it...”

   Her words hung in the air. For a moment, I said nothing.

   The documents.

   The memory hit me like a jolt. The box in the attic, the folder with that symbol—the tilted ‘U’ overlapping a ‘G’. I thought of how angry I’d been when I confronted Zephyra, how betrayed I’d felt when she dodged my questions.

   I still didn’t have answers.

   But something else itched at the back of my mind.

   The forest. My back. The pain. I remembered falling, barely able to hold on. But...

   I frowned, the unease growing heavier. Something happened after I blacked out.

   “The last thing I remember is that my back was cut open. After that, I lost consciousness. However...”

   I hesitated, the thought forming like a shadow in the corner of my mind.

   “Something happened after that. Something I can’t remember... but I can feel it. And I think I need to know what it was.”

   Zephyra hesitated for a moment, her expression faltering as she searched for the right words. Finally, she sighed and said, “Before I answer this question, it will be better to start from the very beginning. I will tell you, why I have those documents and why I was there at that burning night in the first place.”

   Her words carried weight—more than I’d expected.

   I shifted slightly, wincing as I adjusted the pillow behind my back. I looked her in the eye, the room quiet except for the soft creak of her chair.

   I was ready to listen.

   Listen to her story.