Encounters Under Morning Light

Shin’s footsteps faltered as he stumbled forward through the forest undergrowth. Branches scraped against his torn blazer and dirt-smudged skin. Each step sent lightning-sharp pain up his injured leg, but he forced himself onward, clutching the rusted sword like a walking stick.

Ahead, the adventurer party moved along the forest path, morning light dappling across their armour and robes. The tall swordsman led them with calm vigilance, the robed healer walked beside the spear boy chatting lightly, while the dwarf trudged at the rear, whistling under his breath.

Shin’s vision blurred as he raised a trembling hand.

“H-Hey… wait…”

His voice came out as a dry croak. The world spun around him. His knees buckled.

“Oi!” The spear boy spotted him first, eyes widening. “Someone’s here-!

The party spun around instantly. The swordsman drew his longsword in a smooth, practiced arc, stepping protectively in front of the healer. The dwarf unslung his twin hatchets; eyes narrowed under bushy brows.

“Easy,” the swordsman said firmly, voice calm but edged with caution. “Who are you? Where’s your party?”

Shin tried to speak, but his throat closed. He coughed hard, tasting iron and bile. His vision dimmed further, and he sank to one knee, using the sword to keep from collapsing completely.

“I… don’t have a party,” he rasped out.

The healer stepped forward slightly. She was young-maybe only a few years older than him -with ling auburn hair tied in a low breeze, golden embroidery catching the sun.

“No party?” You’re alone out here?” she asked softly, eyes scanning his torn uniform and blood-streaked face.

“I woke up… in this forest… I don’t know where exactly…”

His words came out halting and slurred.

The swordsman lowered his blade slightly, studying him with dark grey eyes. “You’re not lying. You’re half-dead.”

“Should we help him?” the spear boy whispered to the healer. “He’s… he’s just a kid.”

The dwarf grunted. “Can’t leave him here. Wolves will eat him before noon.”

The healer knelt beside Shiu, her gentle hands cupping his face to examine his eyes. “He’s burning up… gods, his legs swollen and bruised black.”

She pushed aside the torn pant leg, revealing the faint glyph burns spiralling up his skin. Her breath caught sharply.

“This… this isn’t a normal wound,” she whispered. “It’s like… abyss venom burn… but there’s no corruption spreading or in this forest no abyss type beasts come here it’s kind of weird that how he got this venom burn marks.”

“Abyss?” the dwarf muttered, scratching his beard. “No way a cub like him survived a true abyss beast.” And they never come in these areas.

The healer’s brows knit with concern as she pulled a small vial of herbal alcohol from her satchel. “Hold still. This will sting.”

She poured it over his leg wound. Shin hissed through clenched teeth, the liquid burning like fire across his cracked skin. Tears welled in his eyes despite his efforts to remain silent.

Then she placed both hands above his injured leg and closed her eyes. Her voice softened into a melodic chant, words flowing with quiet power.

> “O light that dwells beyond the veil… descend the mend these mortal wounds.”

A pale golden light bloomed beneath her palms, illuminating the blood-caked torn fabric and Shin’s bruised skin. The warmth seeped into his flesh, numbing pain as it knit torn muscle fibres and soothed angry swelling.

Shin gasped softly, feeling tears prick his eyes again-but this time from relief.

“…Magic…real…healing magic…” he whispered, awed.

The healer-Reina-smiled faintly, though her forehead glistened with sweat. “Basic mid-tier healing… you’ll need more treatment later as your wounds is no normal wound. But this will let you walk.”

She withdrew her glowing hands, and the light faded slowly into the morning air. Shin flexed his leg carefully. It still ached dully, but the sharp burning pain was gone. He looked up at Reina, eyes wide with silent gratitude.

The swordsman sheathed his blade with a decisive click. “we’re taking him with us. He can’t survive alone in this state.”

He bent down, slipping an arm under Shin’s shoulders and lifting him upright with surprising gentleness. Shin winced as pain shot through his ribs, but he bit down a groan.

“Can you walk?” the swordsman asked.

“Y-Yeah… just don’t let me slow you down…”

“Tch. Idiot,” the dwarf muttered fondly. “Dead men can’t slow us down.”

They began walking through the forest, Reina supporting Shin’s other side lightly. The sun climbed higher, sending warm rays dancing across the mossy ground. Birds chirped overhead, flitting between tall cedars and flowering shrubs.

As they walked, the dwarf swung his hatchets lightly, humming under his breath.

“Lunch better be boar stew today. If it’s dry rations again, I’m eating my boots, he grumbled.

The spear boy laughed. “You say that every morning, old man.”

“And I mean it every morning, boy.”

Reina rolled her eyes with a smiled. You’ll eat whatever’s put before you and be grateful.”

“Ha! Easy for you to say, Lady Reina. You’re the one cooking.”

Shin listened silently, each small conversation brushing against something raw inside him. Their teasing felt so casual, so real. Not like the forced politeness of nobles or the mocking cruelty of classmates back home.

Just… friends. Comrades. Family, maybe.

He felt something tremble deep in his chest. Before he realised it, a quiet laugh slipped past his lips.

The party fell silent. Reina turned her head, eyes widening slightly at the soft, hoarse chuckle coming from their injured companion.

Shin blinked, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.

“S-Sorry… I just… it felt nice… to hear people laugh...”

The spear boy grinned brightly. “Hey, no need to apologise! You look good when you smile, you know. Bet it’s been a while, huh?”

Shin swallowed thickly, staring at the dirt path passing under his cracked shoes.

“…Yeah… it’s… been so long since I last laughed genuinely…”

Reina’s hand tightened gently on his arm. “You’ll laugh more from now on. We’re here, aren’t we?”

He looked up at her, tears pricking his eyes at her simple words. She smiled softly, her moss-green eyes warm but kind.

Kael glanced at Shin across the small fire as they walked, his sword resting across his back. Later, when they paused for a breather, he unsheathed it and sat on a mossy boulder, oiling its blade with quiet precision. The dawn light caught along its polished steel edge.

“You asked what we’re doing out here,” he said suddenly, his voice low but firm. “I could give you the quest board answer. Escort duty, herb gathering, standard fare. But that’s not the truth.”

Shin looked up silently, eyes glazed with exhaustion.

Kael’s thumb moved along the flat of his blade, wiping away lingering oil. “The truth is… a sword exists to cut. A shield exists to guard. I was born to holding both, so that’s my life. Kingdoms change, lords change, war never ends. But if you can stand between a blade and someone too weak to fight back… then it’s worth drawing breath another day.”

He paused, staring at his reflection warped in steel. “Strength with reason becomes duty. That’s what I was taught. What you do with yours… that’s your choice alone.” 

Soon, they reached a small clearing where a makeshift campsite was set up. A blackened iron pot hung over a cold fire pit, and stacked firewood lay neatly beside it. Blankets were folded atop a mossy log, and packs rested against tree trunks.

“Sit him down,” Reina said softly. 

The swordsman guided Shin to a blanket and lowered him down gently. Shin winced as pain flared up his side, but the softness beneath him felt like heaven compared to cold stone floors.

Reina knelt beside him, rummaging through her satchel. She pulled out a small clay jar and a strip of linen.

“This will help with bruising,” she said, scooping out a pale green salve. She began smearing it across his shin and ribs. The coolness spread through his skin, soothing burning aches. Shin sighed shakily, tension bleeding from his shoulders.

“…Thank you… Reina-san…”

She paused, surprised by the polite honorific, then smiled softly. “You’re welcome, Shin-kun.”

As she worked, Shin watched her calm movements.

“Do you… like being a healer?” he asked softly.

She froze for a moment, eyes flicking towards the rising steam from the stew pot nearby. “…I became a healer because I couldn’t bear seeing people die when I did nothing. But… each life I fail to save… it doesn’t go away. It stays here.” She pressed a hand lightly to her chest. “Every fever I couldn’t break. Every child I couldn’t stabilise before poison spread. Their names don’t vanish.”

Her moss-green eyes glistened with unshed tears as she stirred again, voice firm despite its tremble. “But if I save even one more life… if I ease one more pain… then maybe… maybe it’s worth carrying them all.”

As Reina worked, Rurik sat cross-legged beside the fire, sharpening his twin hatchets with a rough stone.

Kaen lounged nearby, twirling his spear lazily. “You ever think of using a sword like normal people, old man?”

Rurik snorted without looking up. “You ever think of keeping your mouth shut like normal people, twig boy?”

Kaen grinned, flicking a pebble at him with his thumb. “If I did that, who’d keep your beard from dragging in the stew pot?”

Rurik growled, scratching his bushy beard dramatically. “This beard has slain more women’s hearts than you’ve slain goblins.”

Kaen mimed gagging, and Reina giggled softly.

Finally, Reina ladled out steaming stew into wooden bowls. She handed one to Shin, who accepted it with trembling hands. The aroma nearly made him cry—earthy mushrooms, rich fatty boar, faint minty herb sharpness.

He raised the bowl to his lips, sipping the broth carefully. Warmth spread instantly down his throat and into his empty stomach, like fire igniting frozen coals.

“…It’s… so good…” he whispered shakily.

Reina smiled, eyes crinkling. “Eat slowly, or you’ll choke.”

As laughter rippled softly through the campsite, Shin curled his fingers around the stew bowl, staring into its steaming depths.

Mom… Airi… can you hear me… wherever you are…?

His heart twisted painfully in his chest. He saw his little sister’s face in his mind, her sleepy smile each dawn when he laid her breakfast out. Her small hands clutching his blazer sleeve on cold mornings. Her tears when the hospital bills came, when their mother collapsed coughing blood in the kitchen.

I promised you… I’d become a doctor… I’d save her… I’d save you from this life of silent hunger and hidden tears…

His fingers tightened until the bowl creaked softly under his grip.

But now… I can’t even save myself.

Airi… I don’t know where I am… I don’t know how to survive here. But I swear to you… I’ll find a way back. I don’t care what this world throws at me. I’ll crawl through its darkness if I have to.

Because… even if I die here… I can’t… let your tears be wasted.

The sun had risen fully now, spilling molten gold across the forest clearing. Shafts of light pierced drifting mist in glowing spears. Birds darted between moss-draped branches, their songs echoing like distant wind chimes. A squirrel scampered across a leaning cedar trunk, pausing to nibble a pale mushroom.

Somewhere far off, a river roared softly, its presence felt more than heard. The crisp scent of pine needles mixed with earthy loam, curling around Shin’s senses like a bittersweet lullaby.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, letting warmth brush against his dirt-smudged face. Morning in Neverland… felt almost like morning back home.

Kael sat down across from him, leaning his sheathed sword against a log. His dark grey eyes studied Shin calmly as he spoke.

“You’re not from these parts, are you?”

Shin shook his head weakly. “I… woke up… alone… in that forest… I don’t know… where I am…”

Kael nodded once, accepting the vague answer without pressing further. “Rest today. Tomorrow, we head for town. You’ll come with us.”

Shin lowered his gaze, tears dripping silently into his stew bowl.

“Thank you… all of you…”

For the first time since falling into Neverland, Shin felt something bloom in his chest. It wasn’t hope or trust. Just… warmth. A small flickering warmth that reminded him he was still human.

And as his vision blurred with exhaustion, his last thought was:

> Even if it’s temporary… warmth feels… nice…