Sniff—Sniff—
What's that smell? Is something burning?
And why is it so hot all of a sudden?
I wake up choking on the smell of smoke, thick and acrid as it fills into my nostrils.
My blanket is discarded, and the floor beneath me is scorching hot.
Faint screams ripple through the air—sharp and panicked as hot air whips across my skin.
I blink and rub my sleepy eyes against the haze that drifts into our cage. "What's going on?"
"Stay close to me and don't let go," she murmurs, her voice urgent.
Unsure of what's going on, I quickly do as she says and wrap my arms around her neck.
Suddenly, the lock on our cage is pried open by what looks like another slave. He must be here to break us out?
"Come on! Move!" rasps a young fellow slave with a dark complexion, as he hauls the door free.
She gathers me close, pressing me to her chest. "Stay with me, Albus," she says with hurried voice.
"Tell me what's happening!" she shouts to the slave ahead of us.
He points back toward the central courtyard, now a river of orange.
"A dragon—just appeared out of nowhere!"
His voice cracks. "Why here? Why now?"
I press my face into her shoulder, eyelids burning. Why here?
I hear the slave whisper under his breath, "It must be 'cause of him… that cursed child—".
"You don't seriously think it's Albus's fault, do you!?" She snaps back before he could finish his speech.
Her arms tightens around my body. "Dragon attacks are random. Cruel. Not child's play!"
We hurry through the corridor, and spill out of the front door.
I freeze at the sight: flames towering like living beasts, forging black smoke plumes that blot out the stars.
Slaves scramble in every direction—some tumble into carts, others clutch bundles of meager belongings.
Soldiers charge forward with spears and shields, but most recoil when the ground trembles beneath a deafening roar.
A hulking shape drops from the sky—scales glinting like obsidian under torchlight, wings spanning wider than a house.
It lands amid the central square. With each breath, it exhales a gout of flame that sears the ground and sends a plume of ash skyward.
Some soldiers flee, stumbling over charred corpses while few stand their ground, raising spears only to have them melt from the heat.
The young slave next to us—his eyes wide with terror—yells, "Now's our chance! Get away while they're distracted!"
Another beside him shakes his head, voice trembling. "But where? There's nothing but wilderness and the forest is crawling with monsters everywhere."
"Doesn't matter. Anywhere's better than here." He starts running towards the village gate without a moments notice.
One by one, the others follow. My mother bolts too, holding me tight as the thick smoke stings my eyes.
Through the chaos, I glimpse the dragon's tail whip toward a guard's shield, splintering it like a twig. I hear soldiers scream as wings unfurl and rain sparks. The heat is all-consuming.
My mother stumbles, tiny bits of stone scrape under her bare feet. I gasp, but she picks herself back up and pushes on.
We clear the outer walls, and the wind carries us into a narrow path through twisted trees and darkened fields.
I wrap my arms around her neck, tears streaking down my soot-covered cheeks.
She tries to calm me down with her gentle voice. "Don't worry, I'm fine. I can heal it back to normal anytime."
I almost lost her. We must survive together. I don't want to lose anything precious to me again.
We continue running. Behind us, the roar of the dragon and intense flames echo like thunder while the cries of those left behind become more distant.
Ahead, the forest looms—an unknown refuge waiting in shadows.
And as we disappear into the darkness, I realize that everything has changed. Our home is gone. The auction's fate is irrelevant.
We break from the path into open ground that drops away to a cliff's edge.
Behind us, the settlement's inferno paints the sky blood-red.
I stare at it all burning and crumbling down in front of me. The sight of the dragon's silhouette dancing against the roar.
Did we… actually managed to escape? Escape from that hellhole? Are we… finally free?
However, it seems like these thoughts are short-lived.
Howling can be heard from nearby. Then, a pack of shapes slips from the darkness. Their eyes glint like stars.
At first they're only three or four, grey shadows pressing forward on low haunches. Then more: eight… ten… until the whole area is completely surrounded. It's a pack of wolves.
I press closer to her. Her arms tighten around me, knuckles whitening on my clothes. The wolves fan out in a crescent around our group, hungry snarls drifting on the cold air.
Then a massive wolf steps forward from the pack's center. Its fur is darker than night, with faint purple sparks that writhe along its shoulders. Its eyes blaze violet, and the others part, giving it a clear path. This must be the leader.
A slave beside us—his face streaked with soot and tears—takes a shaky step back. His foot catches a root, and he tumbles forward. He doesn't scream. Before he can rise, the leader wolf bolts at him like a blurry shadow.
None of us saw what happened. It was too fast for our eyes to see.
But when we turned around, the man's upper body is gone—blood spraying in an arc. The man's lower body drops flat to the ground.
Terror breaks from the rest of us. "RUN!"
Everyone starts screaming and running from all different directions. But the other wolves leap into pursuit, fangs bared, claws digging into soil.
Scrambling uphill along a narrow deer trail while carrying me in her arms. My mother stumbles once, but recovers, weaving between branches and bushes.
A flash of fangs sails past us as a wolf lunges. "They're fast!" a woman screams behind us, but the sound is swallowed by the snarls.
She sprints as fast as she can. I feel her breath on my hair and heartbeat pounding.
Roots snag her ragged clothes and she catches her foot. We tumble together, rolling down a steep slope.
Thorns rake at my arms as we hurtle past twisted tree trunks, each branch a blur.
She shields me, taking the brunt of the crash. Pain blossoms in her side, but she doesn't cry out.
Instead, she pivots, pulling me against her as we fall into the dark waters of a river below.
SPLASH—
The ice-cold river rushes around us, yanking at my clothes.
I gasp, drawn under for a moment, then her arms are there, hauling me back to the surface. My chest heaves with a cry. "Ma—"
I try to cry out for help, but the water's moving too fast.
"ALBUS!" She screams while trying to swim towards me. She manages to clutch me tight, bobbing like driftwood in the current.
The wolves' howls fade behind us; the river's flow floods my ears. I feel her body shiver—cold, pain, relief tangled in her embrace.
She manages to grab hold of a hanging root and hauls us both toward the bank. With a final, ragged pull, she drags us out of the icy water.
I cough as she settles me onto the soft grass, her arms trembling—but before I can touch her, she presses my shoulder, lifting my chin to meet her eyes.
Her fingers glow with that pale, healing light. She brushes them over my aching sides and bruised legs. I gasp as warmth blooms where the water chilled me, and the sting of thorns and rocks vanishes. Relief floods me.
But when I look down, her own wounds scream in silence.
A jagged stick—dark with blood—protrudes from her abdomen. She staggers, then her back falls down, leaning against the nearest tree. Her hand drifts to the wound, fingers trembling around the shaft that's pinned her through.
"I—I…" I scramble forward, voice catching. She shakes her head, lips curving into a sad, brave smile. The light in her eyes slowly dims.
"Albus… keep running." Her voice is soft, strained. She then slowly lifts her arm, pointing forward.
"Don't stop until… you find the way out of… the forest. It'll be… dangerous… but you're strong. So I… know you'll make. Just make sure… to always watch your surroundings."
"No!" I cry, clinging to her dress. "I can heal you—just like you taught me!"
She tries to open her mouth—trains of light glimmer at her fingertips—but the glow sputters and dies.
Her eyes flick downward to her belly, then back to me. "I'd love to but… I can't…"
Cough—
Cough—
Blood spatters the grass with each cough.
Tears burn my cheeks. I close my eyes, gather every spark of magic I can feel, and pour it toward her.
but nothing happens. And I start to panic.
She reaches up, brushing salt tears from my face. "Albus… I just remembered something…" Her voice is a whisper now. "I never told you my name… did I?"
"It's… Elaria. Remember… Elaria." She swallows, pain twisting her features. "Remember… You're not cursed… you're my sweet… baby boy… I love… you…"
Her arm that caressing me, drops dead to the ground as she draws her last breath. Her eyes remain open, staring into nothing.
lashes resting on cheeks wet with blood and tears. "Ma…ma?"
I shake her lightly, trying to wake her up. But nothing happens.
I try again. But nothing happens.
"MAMAAAA!!!"
I shake her as hard as I could while screaming at the top of my lungs.
But once again—nothing happens.
I continue to sit there next to her, bawling my eyes out without a care in the world.
A few minutes later, my eyes turn dry and swipe my face with my arm. I then recall the last words she said to me.
I get back up on my feet and look towards the direction she pointed at. I don't know if it's the right way to go, but if that's where she said to go, then I'll trust her.
Then, a howl echoes from the distance. Shit! I cried so loud that the wolves found me. I need to run now. But if I do, they'll find her body and eat it. I can't bury her either. I neither have the strength, nor the time to do so. Think... think…
. . .
In the end, I chose to run. Leaving the corpse of my beloved mother behind to let nature take its course.
I scramble to my feet and plunge into the forest, branches clawing at my sides. Behind me, her body lies against the tree, still and silent.
I don't look back. I run until the darkness swallows me whole.
[Objective Completed: Escape Ferrosum]
[New Objective: Survive]
. . .
The next morning, a group of heavily armed men on horseback halts in front of the wreckage, surveying the area that was once Ferrosum.
"What happened here?" A man dressed in pompous attire and elaborate ornaments steps out of his carriage.
"Judging from all the smoke and burnt debris, it seems a fire broke out Lord Overseer." A seasoned knight replies with a grizzled voice.
"And how could that have happened, hm? Care to explain?"
"Most likely a dragon appeared here last night my Lord." He then points towards a giant footprint in the middle of an empty space.
Another soldier joins the conversation. "Sir! We've searched the entire place and couldn't find any survivors."
The Overseer narrows his eyes at the scorched earth. He steps closer to the massive print, the heel alone as large as two of his riding boots. He crouches, fingers brushing ash and charred soil.
"A dragon," he muses, voice low. He stands and turns to the knight. "And no survivors—no bodies, no captives, no signs of life at all?"
The knight hangs his head. "Nothing, my Lord. There are fragments of bone in some areas, but they're too burned to identify. The rest… well, it's as if everyone simply vanished."
The Overseer's hawkish gaze drifts over the ruined hovels: collapsed beams, blackened roofs, and overturned carts.
Beyond lay twisted tree trunks, half-felled by claws or flame.
He frowns. "Search the perimeter," he orders, voice icy. "Patrol the forest's edge. If anyone fled, we'll find them—or so help me, I will scorch every tree until these beasts crawl out."
A young scout salutes and trots off. The Overseer watches him go, then lifts his gaze to the east, where a ragged line of trees shields the darkness. He glances back at the footprint.
"Tell the men to comb the ground for tracks—human, horse, anything." He turns to the seasoned knight. "And post guards at the lookout towers. No one leaves these woods until I say so."
"At once, my Lord." He bows stiffly.
As they spread out, the lord lingers. He studies the ruins with a calculating eye, trying to piecing together the puzzle.
Finally, he steps over the footprint and strides toward the largest hut—its door splintered inward. He gets one of the nearby soldiers to push aside a charred beam and peers inside. A broken cradle lies in the ashes; its faded paint peeled away by flames.
The lord's jaw tightens. He reaches down and lifts a small, singed cloth doll. Its threadbare face, stitched with care, stares blankly up at him.
"My Lord?" The knight behind him clears his throat.
He doesn't answer. He only stares at the tiny toy. He then tucks it into his coat.
"Send word to the capital," he says at last, voice measured. "A dragon of Elder class has struck Ferrosum. Prepare the garrison. And—find me a child."
"Yes, Lord Overseer." The lord turns back to the smoldering settlement. Somewhere in those dark woods, a survivor still lives.
[Current Status]
Name: Albus
Age: 1
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Slave(Former)
Occupation: None
Location: Unknown
Strength: 2/ Toughness: 3/ Stamina: 3/ Dexterity: 2/ Perception: 3/ Charisma: 2
Titles: Soul Migrator/Blood Moon Curse
Skills/Traits: Minor Healing(Lvl. 0)