In shackles he often was kept

  A young mind, easy to shape

  Salvation I asked when even the rest wept

  For nil ought to control an infant’s fate

  …

  When he woke up, he found himself lying on a bed, a warm bnket covering him.

  Slowly, he sat up, the fabric of clothes he didn’t recognize was a bit rough but comfortable enough.

  His stomach still ached…

  The scent of firewood and the crackle of fire brought his attention to the firepce, casting a gentle light. He looked around the room. It was dimly lit by the fire in the hearth. The bed and the furniture carried a simple charm to them, made from what seemed to be dark oak wood.

  As the boy was contempting his surroundings, the door creaked open, and an elderly woman entered, closing the door gently behind her, a steaming pot of porridge in her hand.

  “Good morning dear, how are you feeling?” she asked gently

  Before him stood what seemed to be an old dy in her mid sixties. Her silver hair with hints of white was tied in loose braids and covered with a thin red silk that draped over her shoulders, the small strands framing her face. Her eyes, the color of hazel and pine, were twinkled with calm and an underlying hint of quiet authority but thoughtfulness.

  He stayed silent. The sight of the first human interaction was both comforting and disconcerting. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel wary or relieved.

  Finally, he spoke up, his voice hoarse and weak, but still possessing a certain sweet and melodic tune to it.

  “..Hello” He whispered, surprised and satisfied that he could speak.

  She gave him a small smile and pced the porridge in his hands as she patted his shoulder.

  “Eat first, we’ll talk ter” she said in a soothing and reassuring voice, like a kind grandmother would to her progeny.

  The boy stared at the food, gncing up at the woman as if asking for confirmation that he could eat. Only after she nodded did he take a spoonful, then another… only to devour the food at an impressive rate, the warmth finally chasing away the pain that had been haunting him for days.

  Oh how delicious it was, how incredible it is to not have an empty stomach..

  ‘This is officially the best soup I have ever tasted!’ Which wasn’t technically a lie.

  Barely a minute ter, the bowl was empty.

  “Thank you…” he mumbled, gncing up at her with gratitude.

  She gave him a small nod before stating, “Quite the clever trick you did to survive, it’s my first time seeing something like this” her tone ced with curiosity and slight admiration.

  He tilted his head, confusion written on his face.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice more firm but still gentle

  Seeing his confusion, she continued, taking a chair and sitting down beside him.

  “The self-healing, a remarkable and fine control of it.”

  That didn’t expin much.

  “Excuse me?” he asked again, unsure of what she’s talking about

  She looked at him as if he said something weird.

  “You’re aware that when you arrived, you were in an advanced state of starvation, right? The only thing that kept you alive was your own healing ability.”

  That’s when the pieces clicked. The warm feeling and his broken leg on the first night…. How he managed to keep walking despite not eating for weeks. He was not fit, far from it, and yet he achieved such an impossible feat. What he thought was a magic moon was just something he healed himself… Which is way more pusible than an astral body with magic properties… he mused. But he didn’t use healing magic, did he? How could he when he didn’t know about such an ability?

  He shook his head, rummaging through his memories, the only instance of something simir to active healing was again on the first night, but that was days perhaps weeks ago. His memory was kind of blurry as the days were all simir to each other.

  “I don’t get it,” he murmured.

  She sighed, an understanding look on her face.

  “I see... so you were unaware… Well, to put it bluntly, as your stomach was consuming itself from hunger, your healing kept restoring it. This allowed you to keep going, but the mental and physical pain must have been horrendous.”

  “So… I have healing powers?” He hesitantly asked, not sure if he heard correctly.

  He rubbed his hands together, half-expecting to see them shine.. And they did, to his surprise. Once aware of it, it was as natural as contracting a muscle…. except the muscle didn’t exist. A soft golden glow began to emit from his hands. He yelped with surprise and almost dropped the bowl on his p, almost breaking it.

  The elder nodded, not fazed at all, but a small hint of amusement fshed in her eyes.

  “And so do I, although mine is much less potent than yours.. That’s how I could sense what was going on inside your body. The food should stop the process.” She opened her palm and soon, a green-ish dull light appeared, emanating the same find of feeling the boy’s hand emitted, but on a much weaker scale.

  Fascinated, the boy looked at her hand with fascination, calming down a little as his own glowing hands went back to normal. He smiled and nodded,

  “Yes, the pain is gone, thank you so much”

  She gave him a subtle smile before asking her first questions which she has been holding,

  “So what’s your name? Where did you come from?”

  The smile vanished from the boy’s face. He himself did not know, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, the people that brought him in would know something. But it seemed not.

  “I don’t know. I woke up in a forest and kept walking until I arrived here” he answered honestly, looking defeated that the answers he seeked were not here.

  The woman looked at the boy with suspicion, but seeing his dejected expression, she decided to allow him the benefit of the doubt the moment. He showed no hint of hostility and certainly wasn’t pretending.. Or he might have, being so good at it that even the experienced old woman didn’t notice.

  “Memory loss? How inconvenient..” she muttered thoughtfully.

  She stood up, and gave him a gentle smirk,

  “Well, in any case, welcome to Holbeck. The mayor and a few people wanted to see you. But for now, rest a bit and we will bring you more to eat.”

  The name didn’t sound familiar to the confused boy nor did it give him answers to where he was, but he thanked her nonetheless.

  With that, she took the empty bowl and left the boy alone.

  Once outside, she noticed that quite a crowd was gathered in front of the small unused house the boy was settled in. The whispering stopped as soon as she came out. She couldn’t bme them; rarely did they get any visitors, and the few that did come were merchant groups coming from the south. But a lone one, and coming from the forest?

  The only reason they didn’t inform Steirn yet was the ck of hostility from the young man.

  The vilgers exchanged concerned wary gnces, their returning whispers carrying an edge of fear.

  ‘From the forest… Fuck that, we should kill him’ someone muttered.

  ‘Why haven’t we sent the signal already?’ another said.

  Era, the one who first met and brought him, asked as she approached the old dy:

  “How is he?” Worry was evident in her tone, it seemed she had, unlike all the others, taken a liking to the boy already.

  The healer chuckled before pcing a hand on her shoulder.

  “He will be fine. Bring him another bowl of food, and he should be as good as new”

  Era smiled. She always had a soft spot when it came to matters like these- be it a person or a stray animal. Something about the boy’s fragile state struck her sensitive chord and a need to protect him arose. The old dy hoped that these feelings wouldn’t sadden her when we’ll have to send him away… that is, if he isn’t a potential threat.

  Looking at him, one might wonder what kind of risk would involve in letting him alive… But then they’d remember that he came from the Last Forest.

  The mayor, Gavin, with his sturdy build was distinguishable despite his te age, stepped forward.

  “Eda, gd to see you. So?” He asked promptly, the safety of his vilge clearly his first priority.

  The old dy, Eda, knew what he meant and responded with a sigh:

  “I put a little bit of garlic and salt in the soup, just enough to cause a reaction, and he’s as fine as one can be. Didn’t react to the iron spoon either. No wings on his backs or any particur traits, so most probably human…”

  She remained silent for a moment before continuing,

  “Although, judging from his hair and eyes, from a noble family, a cn perhaps? The clothes he had on him, although beyond mending, were of the finest silk and softest fur, only worn by prominent families. But I’ve never heard of a cn with those traits. Another kingdom, perhaps?”

  The man nodded, his posture rexing a bit, as Era sighed in relief.

  “But..” The elder woman continued her tone a bit more serious

  “He seemed to be in a state of temporary shock, he doesn’t remember much. So be gentle with him. He hasn't interacted with anyone in a while; try to get answers slowly.”

  * * *

  They named him Edur, for the color of his hair and gentle nature.

  Days passed as Era and the other vilgers came to greet him, offering food, clothes and company, much to Edur’s happiness.

  Each day, he ventured a little further from his bed, exploring the vilge and discovering new things every day. He pyed with the children, took care of the elders, helped wherever he could, avoiding the butchery for the first few days to some of the vilgers’ curiosity.

  The vilgers- especially the children- were curious and often asked him questions, looking for answers. “Where did you come from? How did you survive in the Last Forest? Why is your hair white and eyes red?”

  He had few answers himself, and so they did not press. Instead, they held a small welcome feast for him at the innkeeper’s, where many vilgers usually gathered after a long day of work.

  At first, some were reluctant, afraid that a newcomer might bring problems. It was a tight-knit vilge where everyone knew each other. But Edur’s kindness, innocent charm, and golden heart made those doubts vanish as quickly as they came.

  He never lied, nor did he harbor any hatred or resentment, At the first sign of need- be it bor or a wound - he was there.

  The innkeeper offered him a job at his inn. No doubt Edur’s presence would make the dies visit more often..

  ‘Buisness is buisness’ had he said to a furious Era once she found out.

  And so, Edur slowly settled in the vilge, immersing himself in a peaceful routine. But that didn’t mean he forgot the terrifying events that happened in the forest. No, far from that. He was informed once he shared his story that those giant spiders weren’t supposed to be this deep in the forest. They came from beyond it, in the chain of mountains called Jebels, those same mountains that could be seen from the vilge, their peaks towering majestically over the ndscape, offering a striking view.

  The mayor sent a letter to report the Spinix's concerning advance, but after much discussion with a few vilgers and especially Eda, he decided to omit the presence of Edur.

  He sensed that revealing his existence might bring more problems, and he didn’t have the heart to see the boy who had slowly gained a spot in everyone’s heart taken by the court. It would make sense if they were to be interested in him. Edur’s incredible healing ability had managed to heal even the worst and oldest wounds, much to many’s admiration.

  Old Margreth, had lived years with a twisted, crippled leg. All it took was a quiet moment of focus from Edur- and the injury was undone. Truly a fascinating gift. The word quickly spread when the vilgers saw her running around thanking Enkatu, the god of Life. A running grandma was sure quite the sight to behold.

  After a month and a half, the vilge already considered Edur as one of their own. His mystical appearance granted him the prize of the most sought-after person in the vilge in such a short time.

  Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. And perhaps, it would’ve been a happy story if things ended here.

  Perhaps, if The Commander didn’t come in person, Edur would’ve been able to live at Holbeck for the rest of his life, in peace and among the vilgers.

  Perhaps, he wouldn’t have had to suffer as much as he did.