Last Survivor

Suddenly regaining consciousness, the first thing Haruto noticed was an intense pain throbbing in his head, accompanied by the unpleasant sensation of wet clothes sticking to his skin. The freezing temperature transmitted by the ground on which he was lying did nothing to improve the young man’s plight, and he began to shiver uncontrollably. He also realized that his feet and fists were bound, like a common criminal.

When he looked up, Haruto first noticed the fading daylight and the snow falling gently. He then noticed a soldier standing near him. He was holding an empty bucket, a mean smile on his face.

“Nap time is over. It’s time to get going,” he said.

As if waiting for this signal to intervene, a companion of the man in armor approached the engineer with a dagger. He cut the rope around the young man’s ankles and then forced him to his feet. Still trembling, Haruto felt an intense source of heat emanating from behind him. It seemed to contrast sharply with the coldness of the surroundings. Turning around, the engineer saw a hellish sight that left him incredulous.

“What have you done?!”

The hamlet of Pauweik had been reduced to an inferno of unprecedented proportions. The wooden frames of the buildings and their thatched roofs seemed to facilitate the spread of the flames, which mercilessly consumed every combustible element. A powerful and distinctive aroma of wood hung in the air. However, the young man’s nostrils also detected a subtle, acrid smell that disturbed him even more. It was as if someone had left several pieces of meat to burn rather than simply cook them.

“I can’t believe it...”

Apprehensive but determined to get to the bottom of this, Haruto scanned the surroundings carefully and finally spotted the well in the center of the village. The remains of the pulley were still visible through the flames, but it was a blackish object protruding from the opening of the water source that caught the young man’s attention. The heat was so intense that the air visually distorted the contours of the object, forcing the engineer to concentrate even harder.

“It looks like... an arm,” he whispered, horrified.

Realizing what a terrible fate had befallen the village and its inhabitants, Haruto fell to his knees and couldn’t help but empty the contents of his stomach onto the snowy ground. Surprised, the two guards took a few steps back.

“Watch out for splashes,” said one of the guards standing next to the engineer.

“Damn it, that bastard is going to get my boots dirty,” complained the other man.

As the two soldiers looked at Haruto with contempt and disdain, Captain Oscar approached the trio with long strides, his cape fluttering behind him. He ignored the engineer, who was struggling to pull himself together, and addressed his subordinates directly. They snapped to attention in a split second and saluted their superior.

“There’s no need to stay in this rat hole a second longer than necessary. Announce our departure to the others and make sure he’s ready,” he ordered, glaring at Haruto.

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

Ten minutes later, all the members of the clergy’s troop were gathered in two columns parallel to the main road, halfway between the forest and Pauweik, or at least what was left of it. The wild glow of the fire ravaging the village gave the convoy a rather sinister appearance, contrasting with the darkness that was intensifying by the minute. Furthermore, none of the men-at-arms had mounts, except for the captain and his aide-de-camp. With his body temperature plummeting, Haruto was still shaking like a leaf. What’s more, he was tied to the saddle of one of the horses by a long rope attached to his wrists. Finally, a few soldiers brought up the rear of the group in an effort to deter any attempts to escape.

“Why? What’s going to happen to me? Am I going to die in this forsaken world? What are my options?”

At that precise moment, the young man’s brain was working at breakneck speed. Questions of a similar nature raced through his tormented mind. Anyone who didn’t know Haruto would have sworn they were looking at a madman, so unstable did he seem. It was as if almost all his senses were closed to the slightest external stimulus, at least until a cacophony of noise brought him abruptly back to reality.

“We’re under attack!” someone shouted.

“Everyone take cover!”

“Could this be the work of a survivor from the village? No, that wouldn’t make any sense,” thought Haruto as he scanned his surroundings for clues.

The Church soldiers seemed caught off guard and scattered in all directions, like animals fleeing from danger. The horses, panicked by the commotion, struggled to stay in place while Oscar barked orders on the fly. One of the soldiers positioned at the front of the convoy was lying in a pool of blood, a long arrow piercing his throat.

In response, the men in the troop formed a rather haphazard defensive perimeter around the captain, their weapons drawn and ready to strike. As they regained control of the situation, they momentarily heard the whistling sound of objects cutting through the air at high speed.

“What’s going on?!”

“Aaarghh...”

A second warrior then fell to the ground among his comrades-in-arms, stifling a cry. Several projectiles were lodged in the middle of his gleaming breastplate, leaving no doubt that the man had joined his ally in the afterlife. It had all happened in a fraction of a second.

“Huh?”

“Close ranks,” ordered the aide-de-camp.

“Where did those arrows come from?”

“I don’t want to die,” moaned one of the men.

A feeling of panic and uncertainty gradually spread through Oscar’s men, who cast frightened glances at the darkness surrounding them. Haruto, meanwhile, crouched down as much out of instinct as out of fear of being hit by an arrow, not knowing whether he was being targeted or not. He then looked at the two bodies and noticed a strange similarity between them, particularly in terms of the arrows.

“It looks as if they have the same angle of impact. By logical deduction, they would therefore also share the same source,” thought Haruto.

Armed with this new information, the engineer then turned his attention to what he believed to be the likely source of the attacks. However, the general darkness and the glow of the fire behind him made it impossible to distinguish any movement at the edge of the forest, located about a hundred meters from the road.

“Damn, I can’t see a thing,” Haruto grumbled.

Captain Oscar, for his part, wasted no time. It was clear that the man had some military experience in dealing with delicate situations. To that end, the captain had dismounted and taken up a position between his horse and the other mount. This made him a smaller target and therefore difficult for a distant attacker to hit.

“Form a defensive perimeter around the animals and follow the path that leads to the forest. We’re too exposed here,” Oscar ordered in a powerful, confident voice.

The Church soldiers obeyed promptly and immediately set off, on the lookout for the slightest sign of danger. However, they had not even covered ten meters when the sound of an arrow was heard again.

“Everyone get down on the ground,” barked the captain.

The members of the troop threw themselves to the ground as one and narrowly avoided the projectile, which instead hit the aide-de-camp’s horse. The animal reared up at first under the pain, then began kicking randomly before finally striking its rider, who had hidden behind it. The blow was so intense that the man was thrown several meters before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

A colorful curse escaped the mouth of the military leader as he got back to his feet. The victim’s silver breastplate was horribly distorted, and his head was pointing in a grotesque direction. Captain Oscar, in an instant, understood the situation and fixed his stern gaze on the warriors near him.

The remaining soldiers seemed particularly shaken by the turn of events. Their haggard expressions betrayed fear, incomprehension, and an inability to show initiative.

“The poor things are like lost sheep waiting for instructions from their shepherd to guide them,” Oscar thought.

Turning his attention to the man named Haruto, whom they had captured earlier, the captain couldn’t help but notice that he was unusually calm. Moreover, the young man seemed to have his eyes fixed on something in particular, which triggered something in Oscar’s mind.

The clergyman quickly got back to his feet, ignoring the danger. He then walked toward the engineer with a confident stride. The swirling cape and the reflections of the blaze on the metal parts of the armor completed the sinister image of a demon from hell, which did not fail to alert Haruto.

“Is this guy crazy or what? Can’t he see the dead bodies around him? What the hell... uughh!”

Oscar stopped in front of the young man who was still lying on the ground and kicked him hard in the stomach. A loud crack was heard and a sharp pain shot through Haruto’s entire body. He instinctively rolled onto his side, spitting out a mixture of saliva and blood.

“So, vermin, did you plan this attack? You’d better answer,” added the captain in an icy tone that left no doubt as to his intentions.

Haruto tried to sit up as well as he could, but his body refused to obey him.

“Answer me,” roared Oscar, his features contorted with rage.

He struck the engineer a second time, followed by a third, before the latter finally said in a hoarse, stammering voice:

“I... I don’t know anything.”

The captain leaned over and untied the rope connecting the young man to the horse. He then grabbed him by the collar to force him to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t lie! Do you really think I’m going to swallow such nonsense? You stare at that damn forest as if you know the source of our misfortunes. You plotted everything with the aim of seeing my men die!”

Heart-wrenching cries of pain could be heard above the continuous crackling of the blaze, but Oscar paid no attention. His fury was so intense that he seemed isolated from the world around him.

“I swear I didn’t do anything,” Haruto gasped.

The snow continued to fall around them, heavy and silent, muffling the agonized cries of the Church soldiers.

The enraged man then drew his sword from its sheath and brought the edge of its blade close to Haruto’s neck to give more weight to what he said next:

“If you don’t confess, then you will die like all those dogs in the village.”

As he raised his weapon to strike, an arrow whistled through the air and lodged itself in Captain Oscar’s wrist. The sword he was holding fell with a crash, and the man let out a scream of pain. Releasing the engineer, who collapsed to the ground, he then brought his good hand to his bleeding wrist, staring at the arrow sticking out of it, before finally looking up.

His features, until then contorted with rage, froze in horror. Around him, his soldiers, riddled with arrows, littered the ground in a macabre show. The snow-covered ground had taken on a scarlet hue.

“No, no... It can’t be,” Oscar whispered, slowly backing away, his boots sliding in the snow.

Another arrow flew past his face, missing him by inches. He backed away further, his movements becoming erratic. Panicked, he finally rushed toward his frightened horse, almost tripping as he climbed into the saddle.

Before leaving, he took one last angry look at the young man, who was still standing motionless in the snow.

“Die here, you scum,” he growled before galloping away and disappearing into the darkness.

Even after his tormentor had left, Haruto remained lying there. The icy bite of the air invaded every part of his badly wounded, soaked body, which was on the verge of hypothermia. His eyes stared at the dark, overcast sky that seemed to weigh down on him like a shroud.

“I’m so cold... so cold, and I feel so lonely,” whispered the young man.

Behind him, the village was still burning, thick smoke rising into the dark sky. Haruto closed his eyes for a moment, letting his thoughts be overwhelmed by the darkness. He no longer had the strength to move, nor to cry. Everything seemed so distant, everything had become meaningless, like a bad joke that life had played on him. Images of the devastated hamlet mingled with those of the past few weeks and his home world. All of it was now just a distant memory, erased by fire and drowned in darkness.

“I couldn’t save them...”

After a while, a distant noise brought Haruto out of his trance. Barely managing to lift his head, he saw a figure emerging from the shadows of the nearby forest. He recognized the same green glow he had seen earlier during the hunt. The engineer tried to sit up, but the pain made him stagger.

“Is this a new enemy?” What an irony of fate, he thought in a final burst of lucidity.

                                                                           ***

A faint light seeped through Haruto’s eyelids and pulled him out of his stupor. When he finally opened his eyes completely, he was overcome by a feeling of dizziness, accompanied by intense pain that wracked his entire body. Still confused about the situation, the first thoughts that came to the young man’s mind were:

“How am I alive? Where am I?”

Haruto struggled to sit up to get a better view of his surroundings, but a wave of weakness washed over his limbs, forcing him to remain lying down.

Sighing, the memory of Bhelgor’s senseless murder, as well as the tragic fate of Pauweik and its inhabitants, suddenly came back to him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything... No one deserved to end up like this... It’s so unfair and cruel... Damn it, I shouldn’t even be alive,” gasped the young engineer, consumed by guilt.

Haruto continued his internal monologue for several minutes before other memories resurfaced from his subconscious. These gradually distort the feeling of sadness affecting him into a kind of black anger. These were, of course, his interactions with the men of the Church, but more specifically, all those involving Captain Oscar.

“This whole mess is the fault of those soldiers and their damn Church! This world is truly rotten to the core,” he began, before continuing his train of thought:

“Damn it! I helped Aristide, Norea, Bhelgor, and all the others to the best of my ability, and all so that they could... So they could be stupidly slaughtered at the hands of that bastard captain...”

Cursing the current condition of his body, bruised by the flurry of blows inflicted by Oscar, which had left him almost crippled, the young man made a promise to himself:

“I must find a way to return to my home world and take whatever means necessary to achieve this. Ultimately, it seems that the law of the jungle reigns here. Only the strongest and smartest manage to survive, and there is no question of me staying in this grotesque place any longer than necessary.”

Determined to continue his journey toward his goal, Haruto closed his eyes to concentrate. It was imperative for him to carefully analyze and understand his immediate environment in order to make the right decisions about what to do next. A prison cell, for example, would offer him very few options compared to being in the middle of nature.

So, despite the pain and exhaustion, the young man made a conscious and deliberate effort to turn his head slightly in order to better observe his surroundings. Haruto quickly realized that he was no longer outside, but rather lying on a fairly rigid surface. It resembled a mattress made of a mixture of skin and foliage. Continuing to observe his surroundings, the engineer noted that the place, although modest, seemed solidly built and that the walls were made of rocks around which vigorous roots had grown. An aroma of lichen emanated from this peculiar amalgam, illuminated by the warm and comforting glow of a small fireplace built into one of the walls. The low ceiling was covered with branches that revealed small holes plugged with dried tree leaves.

“I’d say it’s... let’s say, rather rustic,” he thought to himself.

No sooner had he finished this thought than the engineer’s gaze fell on a wooden shelf perched just above the hearth. The shelf itself was of no interest to the young man, but a strange object worthy of special attention was resting on it.

The trinket in question had a modern, almost futuristic appearance that contrasted sharply with the primitive nature of the hut. It consisted of a small, dark sphere, apparently made of metal. The surface seemed to be covered with lines reminiscent of electronic circuits. They produced a faint glow, similar to that of a computer screen. As if that weren’t enough, the globe itself floated above a circular base that appeared to be made of the same material.

“What on earth is this strange thing?”

Even concentrating and focusing all his attention on it, Haruto couldn’t grasp the nature of this mysterious object. Of course, he came up with several hypotheses, such as the presence of a magnetic field or even a superconducting component, but lacking the necessary knowledge on these subjects, he reluctantly had to give up on the matter.

The young man’s thoughts were interrupted by a slight noise, like someone walking. And someone was indeed approaching, and this fact caused the engineer, still confined to his bed, to feel a certain apprehension. With no escape route, Haruto forced himself to breathe slowly and remain calm.

The sound suddenly stopped, prompting Haruto to contort himself even further in an attempt to identify its source. His eyes then fell upon a strange being who seemed to have stepped straight out of a fictional universe. The individual was dressed in clothes reminiscent of those worn by a druid, incorporating natural fibers and tanned hides. Their silhouette was rather slender and delicate in appearance, with pale skin and long, dark brown hair streaked with gray at the ends. The portrait was completed by a pair of pointed ears that framed their finely featured face. What struck the engineer even more was the intense gaze of sparkling green eyes staring at him.

“He looks like an elf, but that seems too simple, especially with eyes like emeralds. Could he be one of those famous silvgests Aristide told me about? That doesn’t make any sense, especially if we believe the folklore I’ve heard,” Haruto thought suspiciously.

He then wanted to inquire about the individual’s identity, neglecting any polite formality in the process.

“Who are you?”

The humanoid approached the engineer calmly and slowly. Its movements were graceful and showed no sign of hostility. When it leaned close enough to Haruto, the old man whispered something in the young man’s ear. Although serious, his voice was also gentle.

“I am glad to see that you are now awake. Several days passed while you were unconscious.”

He placed a hand on one of the engineer’s wrists. This served to give a little more weight to what he had just said, but also to share the warmth that comes with human contact. The man then continued by introducing himself:

“My name is Askondal. Know that I will gladly answer your questions, but it is important that you regain your strength first.”

Haruto continued to stare at the old man. He felt no fear toward him, despite the fact that he knew absolutely nothing about the silvgests. On the other hand, the young man was quite familiar with the elf race, which seemed to be their counterparts. In this regard, elves were present in almost all works incorporating fantasy elements and had a reputation for being neutral-good creatures, albeit distrustful of strangers.

Now that he knew his savior’s name was Askondal, the engineer focused on the other questions swirling around in his head. By logical deduction, the place where he currently found himself was undoubtedly where this old man, whom he presumed to be a silvgest, lived. Despite everything, one question in particular continued to torment him.

“Why did you save me from certain death? I can’t understand what advantage you could gain from rescuing me, especially since you know nothing about me,” Haruto said in a weak voice, but one filled with curiosity.

In response, Askondal remained motionless, like a statue, and watched Haruto intently. A heavy silence fell over the room and lasted long enough for Haruto to jump when the silvgest finally replied enigmatically:

“My motives are of no importance at this time. I would rather know what you truly desire, young human.”

Askondal had dodged the question by pushing his own forward, which shook Haruto. He had expected to glean at least a few bits of information about the old man’s reasons, but the latter did not seem willing to provide them.

“I should answer, especially since he got me out of this tricky situation without asking for anything in return,” the engineer murmured reluctantly.

Haruto closed his eyes and took a deep breath to concentrate. A few moments later, the young man opened his gray eyes once more to the light inside the hut. Askondal recognized the same cold determination, resolute as steel, that he had seen in the engineer’s face a few days earlier when he was dying of hypothermia.

“I want to survive,” Haruto began calmly, before continuing in a firm tone that left no room for hesitation:

“However, survival is only the first step toward achieving my true goal. Ultimately, it’s about being able to return home.”

Askondal remained silent as he sized up Haruto. His piercing emerald gaze seemed capable of probing the depths of the young man’s soul. After a long moment, he slowly nodded.

“You are sincere with your desires, but you must know that achieving your goals will be much more difficult than you imagine,” added the silvgest in a grave tone.

Haruto frowned and stared at the old druid without moving an inch. He was well aware that his goal of returning home was a daunting, if not impossible, task. Nevertheless, he refused to give up.

“So you can help me, can’t you? Or am I mistaken?”

“Perhaps,” Askondal began thoughtfully.

After a moment’s thought, the silvgest shrugged and continued:

“First, you need to understand that achieving your goal in truth involves many different aspects. At the core of these is the fundamental concept of survival. There’s no point in planning anything if you end up dying along the way.”

Haruto understood the importance of staying alive, but he had trouble grasping what Askondal was getting at. In any case, he had little choice but to wait for the druid to finish his train of thought.

“Yes... I believe I can help you in your quest, my boy, but the path ahead is as precise as it is arduous. It so happens that, during my long life, I have acquired experience and a wealth of knowledge,” said the old man in a calm but serious tone.

“A path? I’d like to understand what you mean by that,” asked Haruto, his concern evident on his face.

With a movement that belied his appearance, Askondal rose and walked over to the hearth. There, he retrieved a rudimentary kettle and a small earthenware container from the shelf near the esoteric trinket. After extracting what appeared to be a pinch of herbs and placing them in the kettle, he returned to Haruto. The silvgest’s delicate features and emerald irises displayed an understanding expression.

“After you recover, I will guide your first steps on the arduous path that I myself took many decades ago. By overcoming the trials ahead, you will be able to seize all the opportunities that come your way to fulfill your destiny,” said the silvgest before sitting back down at the young man’s bedside.

“Trials and my destiny... It almost sounds like the typical dialogue of a non-player character from a video game,” thought the engineer, exhausted by this strange conversation.

Without warning, the old man lifted the kettle and tilted it as if he were trying to pour out its contents. The water had barely left the spout of the container when a tree root the size of an arm suddenly sprang from the ground. In a fraction of a second, a wooden cup had grown at its end to catch the hot liquid.

Haruto stared at the silvgest in a daze, his mouth moving like a goldfish’s. His mind simply couldn’t logically explain the phenomenon he had just witnessed.

“What!? But what... That cup appeared as if by magic,” stammered the young engineer, struggling to regain his composure.

“You have nothing to fear,” Askondal assured his guest in a calm tone.

The old man then put down the kettle and added a pinch of herbs to the cup, which he had taken from the terracotta pot.

“This is a gift that allows me to manipulate the plants around me as I wish. They become an extension of my consciousness, much like an extra arm or leg.”

In response, Haruto remained silent and continued to focus all his attention on the glass. Meanwhile, the old man detached the container from the root like a farmer harvesting fruit from a tree. As soon as the container was removed from the plant, it began to wither before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

“There is much to do, and you will need all your strength. So drink this potion. It should help relax your body and thus help you sleep,” Askondal decreed, handing the cup to the young man.

Haruto accepted the offer hesitantly. He didn’t want to offend the silvgest, but his trust in him was still fragile. The engineer then looked down at the concoction. The greenish color was suspicious, and there was also a strong smell reminiscent of conifer sap.

“Down the hatch,” Haruto finally decided before clumsily swallowing the hot drink, his hands shaking with effort.

Even though the taste was sickening and he almost choked twice while drinking it, the engineer immediately felt the effects of this strange tea coursing through his bruised limbs. The pain that had been gnawing at him since he woke up quickly faded, gradually giving way to an insatiable desire to close his eyes.

Haruto, half asleep, smiled as he thought about what awaited him before finally letting go and sinking into the realm of dreams.

                                                                           ***

A few days later, when the engineer had fully recovered from his injuries, the training prepared by Askondal began without delay. Haruto quickly realized that the harshness of winter was much worse than he had initially imagined. Every step in the thick snow and every breath of icy air entering his lungs was a real test of survival. The other problematic aspect was the almost total absence of light, despite a faint glow emitted by the debris of the stellar body.

Partially deprived of the sense of sight that humans depend on to function, Haruto had to follow the silvgest’s advice and learn to use his hearing. The silvgest also emphasized certain fundamental concepts, such as locating sources of water, food, shelter, and much more. Askondal believed that the engineer must not only assimilate these principles, but also master their application in order to have any chance of success. The old man was unaware of it, but the knowledge he shared with his apprentice was invaluable, as most individuals from the young man’s world already took all these things for granted.

To this end, Haruto spent the first few weeks struggling through the snow, wearing a heavy gray cloak to protect him from the cold winds. He then learned to identify water sources hidden beneath the thick layer of snow, as well as how to extract sap from trees to quench his thirst. Furthermore, contrary to what Haruto had imagined, some plants remained accessible throughout the year, and many were edible.

Haruto’s new routine quickly fell into place, and weeks eventually turned into months as winter temperatures continued to drop relentlessly. Worse still for Haruto, the darkness that had disturbed his perception became even more oppressive, while the wind continued to blow fiercely, giving him the impression of being trapped in a kind of dark and icy hell.

Outside of his sleeping hours at the Askondal hut, the young man’s rare moments of respite came when he had to take a break to warm his frozen limbs around a fire carefully lit by his mentor. The physical aspect of the training, such as running in the snow and climbing trees, was incredibly difficult. Despite everything, the engineer learned to adapt to this new reality and managed to keep up with the silvgest a little more easily each day. The latter continued to move with supernatural ease for his age, which never failed to surprise Haruto.

This winter ballet continued throughout the rest of the Darkness and, over time, aroused a persistent feeling of curiosity in the young man. Haruto had come to observe his mentor with the same level of attention as a bird of prey searching for its next meal. To that end, he had noticed that the druid seemed to lose himself in thought frequently and with increasing frequency. When this happened, Askondal would wear a hard expression as he gazed toward the horizon, muttering unintelligibly.

On a particularly cold evening, Haruto decided it was time to set the record straight and get answers to the questions that had been plaguing his mind for months. So he took advantage of the usual break around the fire to question the old silvgest without any preamble.

“Master Askondal, why do you live alone in these woods?”

The old man remained silent and frozen for a moment, his eyes fixed on the flames dancing before him. Haruto noticed the man’s immobility and felt that the missing pieces of the puzzle were right there, within reach. So he doubled his boldness in order to provoke a reaction.

“I simply wish to understand what drove an individual with such knowledge to live as an exile,” asked Haruto.

At the mention of exile, the silvgest immediately turned his attention to his student and looked at him sternly, his green irises piercing him like sharp blades.

“My boy, this world is far from being as simple to understand as you might imagine,” Askondal replied sharply.

“I apologize... I meant no offense,” stammered Haruto, stunned by the vehemence of the response.

The silvgest then closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled slowly, as if he were deep in meditation. He added more enigmatically:

“Sometimes it’s better to leave everything behind in order to ensure your survival.”

Haruto pouted in disappointment, realizing that his instructor would not be as easy to figure out as he had expected. However, he did not let this setback stand in his way and persisted once again in probing Askondal’s motivations.

“But survive what? What could possibly drive you to flee like this?”

The man turned to the young man, his expression hardening even further.

“Haruto, you must know that many things motivate my past, present, and future actions. Although it is not the main cause, the Church is, of course, part of my concern.”

A shiver ran down the engineer’s spine at the mention of this organization that seemed to rule the immediate world with an iron fist.

“The Church of Niowe?!”

“No one knows for sure the real reasons behind the clergy’s various actions. However, I have seen with my own eyes the atrocities they have committed against my people. To this end, the silvgests are treated as vile abominations, relegated to the same level as monsters. They hunt us down in order to destroy us, denying us our natural right to exist,” Askondal explained bitterly.

Haruto was stunned by these revelations and felt a certain heaviness settle on his shoulders. He had difficulty understanding how humanoid beings could be hunted and threatened with extinction solely because of their physical differences from humans.

“Damn it. And I’m supposed to live in such a despicable world,” muttered the engineer.

The silvgest’s keen ears allowed him to hear his student’s words, which made him sigh.

“It is possible to succeed by being both cunning and cautious. The inquisitors are the ones you must avoid at all costs,” said Askondal.

“The inquisitors?”

“Yes. They are the elite warriors of the Church. They are killers, trained to hunt down and destroy enemies of the dogma, but there are worse things...”

Haruto stared intently at his mentor and swallowed nervously as he waited for further explanation.

“The problem is these individuals’ devotion. It borders on blind fanaticism, making the lives of innocent people incidental to the achievement of the goals set by their leaders,” continued the old man.

Askondal paused and stared intently at the young man before adding:

“But there is something else to know about these zealots. Their actions almost always provoke strong reactions of indignation, anger, fear, and so on. They use these feelings as weapons to flush out and neutralize any voice that opposes their beliefs.”

An oppressive silence then settled between the two men. Haruto, for his part, didn’t know how to respond, so disturbing was this information. Nevertheless, he also understood that surviving in this universe would not only be a matter of brute force, but also of finesse and intelligence.

After this troubling discussion, Haruto’s training resumed at an even more intense pace over the following weeks. Against all odds, even though the training was relentless, the engineer couldn’t help but notice how easily his body was now recovering. What’s more, his physical endurance had improved significantly compared to his level before the Arrival. However, a certain frustration continued to weigh on the young man’s mind. Although the knowledge he had learned from Askondal would be invaluable in achieving his goals, Haruto felt that he had learned enough to continue on his own path. Staying any longer in the forest with this strange silvgest would not help him achieve his ultimate goal: to return to his world and his former life.

One mild morning, as they were about to begin a new session, Haruto finally made his decision. It was time for him to move on, so he turned to Askondal, who was examining some trees around his home. The engineer spoke in a calm but resolute tone:

“Master Askondal, I think it’s time for me to leave. I have learned what you could teach me, and I am deeply honored, but I must continue on my own path.”

The old druid stood motionless for a moment, his emerald eyes fixed on Haruto. He seemed to be weighing the young man’s words, considering each syllable. Finally, he nodded slowly in approval, then turned to face him.

“I knew this day would come. But know, Haruto, that my decision to save you was not made lightly,” he said in a grave voice imbued with wisdom.

Haruto raised an eyebrow, surprised by the confession. He had asked this question several months before and had never been able to get a satisfactory answer.

“Why are you telling me all of this now?”

Askondal sighed before looking back at the snow-covered woods surrounding them.

“My reasons are quite personal... and stem from choices made a long time ago. At the time, I believed my actions were justified, but I discovered the hard way that I would have to learn to live with indelible regrets.”

Askondal lowered his eyes, visibly overwhelmed by memories, before continuing:

“When I saw you that night, lying in the snow... I saw the spark of determination shining in your eyes, and it reminded me a little of... someone I once knew. At that precise moment, I felt that perhaps I could make amends and ease my conscience, if only slightly.”

The engineer silently observed the old druid. He couldn’t help but admire the latter’s confidence in agreeing to reveal such a secret to him.

“I see... He seems deeply affected by one or more events from his past,” thought Haruto.

Askondal at last raised his eyes, which shone brightly, as if relieved of a heavy weight.

“In truth, Haruto, I am offering you the second chance that I never had. I hope that you will make better choices than I did, but above all, that you will be able to live without any regrets. Face the world with the same intensity that I have seen in you. I am convinced that you will achieve your goals.”

Haruto bowed his head slightly in respect.

“Thank you, Master Askondal. For everything.”

The druid smiled slightly and approached the young man before handing him an object. It was a pendant carved from a piece of wood, its shape reminiscent of a maple leaf.

“Go and find your path. Wear this as a reminder of what you have learned here and of the reasons that motivated you.