Image of Purity

When she was done eating, I waved my hand to get her attention and pointed to the handmade sandals next to her.

She looked at them, her lips parting and her eyes lighting up as she turned to me. She probably had never seen sandals without toe straps.

She tried them on, initially putting her foot through the strap, but quickly fixed her mistake. However, when she swung her feet, the sandals slid slightly down. The straps were loose.

After calmly approaching her, I gestured towards her foot and waited, letting her figure it out. When she hesitantly extended it towards me, I nodded and smiled before bending down to adjust the strap.

I fastened the straps until they fit snugly on her feet. She looked at me with a warm smile.

I got up to stretch and knelt down next to the fire, gathering dirt to douse it. Cracks echoed as I poured it in.

She let out a drawn-out sound, hinting for me to wait.

I turned to face her once again.

She stood up and stretched, as if copying what I had just done, and approached the weakened flames. Squatting down, she put both palms on the grass and stared directly at the campfire.

She closed her eyes and started to chant in whispers, “Amure~ xit gokat e hovark lo jut sut trat faret, glope~ ta su hos jara ere~ bature~ zu su anhores e dax e tra hostu.” After a brief pause, she continued, “Eshe~ par goka as su ajiro lo er lhak e su gor.”

As she finished chanting, her hands still pressed against the ground and her eyes closed, the dirt beneath the campfire started to shake.

It suddenly rose up, gradually swallowing part of the wood and the ashes left.

I flinched at the sudden noise.

The flames sputtered, cried out, and fell into silence as they took their last breath.

She opened her eyes and turned to face me, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.

I darted my gaze from her hands to the now-doused campfire. She had just used what seemed to be an earth spell.

Magic truly existed.

When her eyes met with mine, she slightly tilted her head to the side, her smile a mix of pride and exhaustion, before letting it droop.

This ordinary act of hers completely derailed my thoughts. I was stunned.

A strange feeling that had been pressing on me deep down finally cleared.

It was clear now I wasn’t on Earth, at least not the one I knew. Most likely I had died and reincarnated here. A dream was possible, but the accident felt too vivid to dismiss.

I thought I would feel more strongly about finally reaching this conclusion, but after half a month in this world, it already felt like I had died long ago. This was little more than a confirmation.

Now thinking about how magic worked, it didn’t seem to create matter, only channel mana to interact with what already existed. Still, I couldn’t rule out the possibility that mana could create or be transformed into matter itself.

I still didn’t know whether I could use the same spell just by repeating the chant, or if there were different kinds of magic altogether.

The language was also too different from anything I had ever heard, but I would inevitably need to learn it.

My eyes focused on the extinguished campfire. I drowned in questions, hardly able to escape my mind. But blinking repeatedly, I shook myself out of it.

Looking back at the girl, she now had a worried look, likely scared by the face I had been making.

Wanting to assure her I was alright, I lifted my hand in her direction with a smile on my face. She pulled her knees to her chest, hiding her head between her trembling thighs.

Was I scaring her?

I hesitantly paused as my heart sank.

Unsure of what to do, my hand hovered above her head. Pity and guilt weighed on me. The bruises were almost proof enough of past abuse, and now I had forced her to relive it.

I placed my hand on her head and softly stroked her hair. I quietly murmured, “You did well!” in an attempt to make her feel safe and praised her.

I remained like this for a few minutes, constantly shaming myself for what I had done.

Her quivering gradually subsided as I continued to gently stroke her oily hair. She lifted her head, glancing at me. The slightest hint of a smile returned to her face. She was now feeling calmer, and her fear had vanished.

I went to retrieve all my belongings. I stored the blanket in my bag and picked up my spear by the campfire.

Walking a little and stopping after the bonfire, I gave her a gesture to follow me. She looked intently at me for a few seconds before getting up and starting to walk towards me.

When she reached my side, we began walking side by side. She grabbed onto the side of my shirt without looking at me. We stayed like that until we arrived at the stream.

She didn’t seem to be affected by the increase in mana. Assuming she lived close to the forest or even somewhere inside it, it made sense. She would be in contact with a high amount of mana all the time.

Not wanting to wear down the sandals, I took off my shoes and socks before getting closer to the water.

“You can take them off too,” I told her, pointing at her feet with a smile.

She looked, then understood and slipped the sandals off, placing them next to my shoes and turning to me with a wide grin on her face.

I squatted next to the stream and, looking at her, pointed at the water while lightly tilting my head, silently asking if she wanted to drink. I proceeded to cup some water with both my hands and lifted it to my mouth, gulping it.

She crouched beside me and did the same. She seemed thirsty, so I let her drink while I looked for berries nearby. She was still drinking when I returned with the berries, carefully washing them in the stream.

I also wanted her to wash her hair but worried she might get sick if she got too wet. If she caught a fever here, it could be dangerous.

When she finished drinking and turned my way, I tried to gesture washing my hair in the stream.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, so I decided I should demonstrate washing mine first.

I took off my shirt and plunged my hair in the water, using my fingers to massage my scalp. After a minute, I tried to rinse most of the water out of my hair but failed, getting completely soaked when I sat back up.

She let out a small, amused giggle, watching my wet hair cover half of my face while water dripped down.

I pretended to frown, raising my eyebrows, but quickly broke into a chuckle.

Not wanting the same to happen to her, I would have preferred if she let me support her body as she washed her hair, or even I could wash it, but she would need to take off the one-piece she was wearing, or it would get soaked.

“Can you take the dress off?” I apprehensively asked, trying my best at gesturing to lift the top of the dress and pull it over the head.

She looked at me attentively, tilting her head. After glancing down briefly, she quickly looked back at me. Her face lit up, a grin spreading across it.

This time she seemed to understand what I wanted her to do and started removing her dress.

I quickly snapped my head away, realising almost too late how exposed she would be. My stomach churned with guilt and discomfort.

In my world, this would certainly be considered inappropriate. But she didn’t seem to understand, patiently waiting as she followed my instructions.

Nervously, I kept my gaze averted as I lifted my shirt and held it over my chest, gesturing for her to follow suit. She got the message and hid her chest behind her clothes.

Her body was painfully thin, skin pressed against her bones, and the bruises stretched farther than I first noticed. It was a sign of neglect more than simple isolation.

I considered supporting her back and slowly lowering her backwards until her hair was submerged, but that would demand her complete trust in me and would likely be too frightening for her.

I moved closer to her, pressing my left forearm against her collarbone and grabbing onto her right shoulder, careful not to apply pressure to any bruised areas. As I flipped her hair to the front, her disturbingly bony back was finally uncovered.

I tapped her shoulder gently, encouraging her to lower herself slowly until her hair was fully submerged. Able to see what was happening, she didn’t get as scared and placed her free arm firmly on the ground.

I scrubbed away the grease but wasn’t able to untangle the knots. Lifting her back up, I used my shirt as a towel to dry her damp hair a little.

I stood up and went to retrieve my spear. Confused, she got up as well. I sat back down by the water and tapped the ground in front of me, gesturing for her to do the same.

Instead of sitting the same way she did before, she attempted to sit with her legs crossed, like I was doing.

Grabbing the freshly washed hair with my left hand, I used the sharp side of the spearhead to gently cut it, aiming for a uniform length, short enough to avoid leaving any clumps.

Finally, I grabbed my shirt once more, pressing it gently into the strands as my fingers threaded through, as if brushing it.

I picked up the cut hair from the ground and saved it, thinking it may prove useful for something later on.

She stood up and put her dress back on after I turned away.

Feeling her head lighter, she shook her hair, letting it flow with the cool breeze. She twirled around, her figure reflecting on the water beneath her, as sunlight beamed through the leaves, spotlighting her as the centre of attention.

I stood frozen, my spear dangling loosely from my hand. Her laughter, carried on a zephyr, struck me like the soft playing of a piano, each key tenderly stroked while the pedal held the melody.

A beautiful scene painted itself before me: a shadowed forest, a shallow stream dappled with light, and a girl with her hair and dress dancing in the wind at its centre.

Her radiant smile etched itself into my memory.