Eclipse's echoing footsteps were engulfed within the roaring sound of the torrential rain. His ragged breath echoed in the moonlit lands leading up to the Grapefruit Village, and each step only worsened the effects of the Emberclaw's poison coursing through his veins. He could barely breathe at this moment, and his bones felt like they were melting, but the dread he felt in the depths of his heart was far greater.

  Eclipse finally reached the Grapefruit Village, and no one was present. His footsteps crushed the ground beneath his feet as he ran with all his might towards the small peninsula where his home resided.

  “I see it!” Eclipse's pupils widened as he saw the outline of his cottage from a distance, “It's going to be alright! I'll make it!”

  The wind swept in opposite to his direction, making it harder for him to tread forth. Even though the atmosphere was chilling, Eclipse didn't seem to notice. The only thing he could feel was the buzzing of his mind. The scent of burning grew thicker and thicker, and black smoke rose, congealing into clouds of toxic gas that blended in well with the grey overcast overhead.

  As Eclipse finally stepped into the clearing where the cottage resided, his entire person froze in place. The dancing flicker of topaz flames reflected off his quivering pupils as he stared at what lay before him.

  Induced by a raging fire, dark smoke originated from the charred remains of the cottage, its toxicity visibly wilting the herbs his old man grew near the cottage. The air, which had once wafted with the smell of soil and vegetation, now had an acrid smell of chemicals. Even though it was pouring, the flames did not show any signs of ceasing.

  Eclipse's body trembled.

  "Old…man," He muttered to himself, then, as if he had suddenly awakened from a nightmare, he staggered slightly, he rushed into the flames, his scalp tingling.

  As soon as he stepped into the charred mess which had been his house, Eclipse was immediately hit with a sudden burst of scorching air. His face was riddled with droplets of sweat as he instinctively covered his face with a single arm. His vision was completely blurred out by black smoke, but he could still feel his surroundings with clarity. His mind was in complete chaos as he ran forward. He felt as though his blood were on fire. His limbs were moving on their own. He was disconnected from everything but the ever-present sound of his drumming heart.

  On the floor, countless art canvases had been scattered; what had once been beautiful masterpieces had now turned into a black mess. Eclipse's heart bled as he looked at these canvases - Duozian had dedicated time and effort to every single one of them.

  "Old man, where are you?!" Eclipse gritted his teeth, then searched every inch of the remains of the cottage, ignoring the radiation from the fire burning away at his skin. However, there were no signs of Duozian.

  Eclipse finally stepped out and scanned his vicinity. The rain felt like miniature needles against his skin, but he didn't care in the slightest.

  "Where are you?! Where are you?! Where are you?!" He constantly chanted, as his gaze desperately moved to different parts of the woods. "Where the hell-?"

  Eclipse's voice cracked because, at that moment, the fading light from the flames illuminated a crimson glint trickling down an inclined ground up ahead. Eclipse slowly shook his head in denial as he staggeringly walked towards the source of the seeping blood, each step taking up an enormous amount of willpower and resolve.

  He finally reached the top of the small hill and stepped into the opening as his grey hair stuck to his forehead. He was completely heaving at this point, but he couldn't bring himself to look around... until his eyeballs slowly drifted to a figure lying on the floor.

  Eclipse suddenly stood stiff, completely disconnected from everything else. The deafening pattering of the rain and occasional thunder far away all merged into a single ringing sound that resonated within and shook every cell in his body.

  He suddenly felt an ice-cold shockwave originating from his core. He took a couple of steps towards the figure, then his knees collapsed onto the soaked earth.

  Duozian lay there soundlessly in a pool of blood under him, a large, gory hole in his chest. His usual clean white clothes were drenched in crimson, and his eyes, which were filled with wisdom, no longer had any vigour of life.

  Eclipse slowly reached out and shook Duozian's figure, an extremely forced and awkward smile on his face. "Hey, old man, wake up… why are you sleeping on the floor like this…?"

  Seeing as how Duozian didn't respond, Eclipse shook him slightly harder, "Old man, wake up! At least go back to the cottage if you're going to sleep!"

  Eclipse's lips trembled. His vision was a complete facade of blur, and the world around him started to spin. He grasped his head with both hands, his fingers shaking uncontrollably.

  "Huh... huuh....huuh, hey, what's going on, old man? Wake up…" Eclipse smiled weakly as he shook Duozian's body over and over again. "Wake up, old man! Hahahahahahaha, is this another one of your jokes? Ahaha, come on. Old man? Old man! OLD MAN!"

  The torrential ice-like rain poured down on the two, but Eclipse didn't feel cold in the slightest and, rather, his entire being burned with a feeling of dread and misery.

  The world around him slowly quietened, and the dam he had built around his darkest memory slowly started crumbling…

  .

  .

  .

  It was winter.

  The night was eerily dark, and the village was in a deep slumber, yet at this moment, a certain woman stood beside a vendor as she packed her things.

  She was none other than Rosaria.

  Under the red moonlight, her purple-colored pupils glowed, and her violet ponytail cascaded in the midnight breeze. Several strands of her hair stuck to her face, but Rosaria was too busy to notice. Though this village was clearly known for being dangerous, especially at night, Rosaria didn't seem to mind. She packed the last of her things and looked at her bags, pleased with her work.

  Just then, footsteps echoed behind her. Her eyes narrowed, and she turned back in a swift motion, getting into a defensive stance, "Who goes there?!"

  Out of the shadows, a certain figure walked closer and closer towards her. The footsteps were lethargic, and the shadow of the man, no, a small boy, kept stumbling as he made his way. The woman slowly reached for a weapon, but when the silhouette came into light, her eyes widened, and she instantly let go of the weapon.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  It was the boy who had come to visit her the past couple of days, but he looked completely different from before. The light in his pupils, which seemed to hold onto a glimmer of hope, was no longer there, and his sclera was almost completely red as if he had been crying for hours on end.

  As the boy came closer and closer, Rosaria ran up to him and held him in a tight hug.

  He radiated no warmth; it was almost as if he were a corpse. The boy didn't have any particular response, and his expression remained the same as his body moved in motion with the woman. Rosaria then let go of the hug and clutched his shoulders as she examined the blood patch on his shirt, "You poor boy, what on earth happened to you?"

  He didn't respond and tried to walk away as if he were a zombie, but Rosaria held him in place. She looked into his eyes, her face full of sympathy, and saw no shred of will or hope left in them.

  "I'm leaving this village today at dawn. Do you want to come along?" Rosaria asked him gently.

  The boy finally took his gaze up and looked at her. Though he didn't give a response, his pupils regained their radiance ever so slightly.

  Rosaria smiled, noticing this change. Rosaria quickly tended to the boy's wounds. Thankfully, the cut wasn’t deep. Still having time left before sunrise, she finished the last of her preparations while the boy stood next to her soullessly. The two then quietly left at dawn on a cart while the village was still asleep.

  Neither of them spoke for a good few hours. Rosaria held the reins to her horse, a frown written on her face as if she was contemplating something of great importance, whereas the boy sat at the back, clutching both of his knees.

  The sun finally rose, and Rosaria would occasionally cover her eyes to shield herself from the sun. The pathway was mountainous, so it didn't make the journey any better as the cart would get bumpy. Soon enough, the mountainous pathway came to an end, and they entered the woods.

  "There's a wolf and her newborn I keep at my house." Rosaria finally spoke, "I found him in a nearby woods next to his wounded mother. I think you'll make great friends!"

  The boy didn't respond to her, but he looked up at her curiously. Rosaria smiled at him and continued reining her horse.

  They travelled up north-west through the Bloodmoon region for a few more days. Spending days travelling on Rosaria's cart, and at night they would sleep at an inn in one of the nearby villages. At some point during their journey, the boy finally began to warm up to her with minimal words and gestures, which, to Rosaria, was a personal accomplishment.

  Soon, they got to Rosaria's area of residence. There was a wide-open space in the middle of the forest. There was a wide circular expanse of grass inside the dense forest, and right in the middle of that, there was a house. It was neither large nor fancy, just an average house out in the middle of the woods, but one wouldn't expect anyone to be living here.

  "This is my house!" Rosaria beamed before she got off her horse.

  The boy finally raised his head lethargically and scanned his surroundings. Although nature blended in well with the atmosphere, sunlight barely reached from the layer of canopy which shrouded the house in a shade of darkness.

  Rosaria hummed a tune as she led the way into her house. She inserted her key into the doorknob and opened the house. The boy swayed as he followed her inside. Daylight came in through the gaps of the closed curtains until Rosaria spread them open, letting the little sunlight that was present seep into the house. The interior of the house was neat and simple. Although it wasn't luxurious, to the boy who had spent his life living in the slums, it felt like he was in a place he did not belong.

  "Take a seat." Rosaria smiled, then she walked towards the kitchen. "I'll make us some tea!"

  Without saying anything, the boy walked over to a series of chairs near the window and sat down. For the first time since he had taken the lives of his parents, he seemed somewhat comfortable. A little bit of warmth had returned to his cheeks, and they no longer seemed as cold as they were before. The bloodstained and dirty grey rags he had worn were replaced by a nice, white set of clothes Rosaria had bought him along the way.

  He slowly took his eyes to the window. Although his eyes had the smallest amount of light in them now, concealed trauma flickered at their depths. Breeze washed over the woods, shaking the dead branches overhead eerily. The boy fell into a trance.

  "Gawrrrrrr..."

  Suddenly, a sound which was akin to a low moaning echoed into the boy's ears, which snapped him out of his trance. He frowned and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just as he was about to brush it off, it echoed again. This time, however, the boy slowly turned his eyes to a certain door at the corner of the living room. It was less than half the size of an average door and had completely escaped his vision when he first stepped into the house. It blended well with the colour of the wall, and was clearly intended to be hidden from sight.

  As the boy continued looking at the door, Rosaria came in with two cups of tea. She gave the boy a smaller cup and had the larger one for herself before she sat down, and she began sipping promptly, "Ahh~ Nothing like a warm mug of tea after a whole week's journey!"

  The boy looked into his tea, not really feeling the appetite to have any beverages at the moment.

  "The... wolf." The boy asked. "Where is it?"

  Rosaria's eyes flashed with a strange light, but she quickly overwrote it with a smile, "Someone is taking care of him since I was away. I'll get you to see him tomorrow!"

  The boy nodded as he stared at his own reflection produced by the tea.

  "I've also prepared a bath for you!" Rosaria said, "Let's get you cleaned up."

  The boy took his gaze back to her, "Bath? What's that?"

  Rosaria's eyes widened, "Oh? It's where you wash yourself with water. If you don't take a bath, you'll be dirty."

  The boy nodded.

  Later that evening, the boy experienced a hot water bath for the first time in his life. As Rosaria poured the warm wooden bucket of water over his body, his sweat and grime came washing off. Steam and vapour floated in the air, barely making out the boy's eyes, which seemed mystic.

  After taking a bath and changing into a new set of clothes, Rosaria made dinner. Though she wasn't the best chef, the boy wolfed down her cooking. To the boy who had merely lived off his parents' leftover rice grains and stolen fruits, the fact that someone had made him dinner was an act of grace he'd remember forever.

  "Do you need anything else?" Rosaria asked.

  The boy briefly made eye contact with her before taking his gaze back to the plate. "I'm tired."

  "Of course! I've arranged a futon for you in the room right next to mine!" Rosaria said, "I have some work to do, so I'll sleep later."

  The boy nodded and got up before making his way to the room. As he made his way, Rosaria stared at him expressionlessly, but immediately put on a smile when he turned back around.

  "Urm... " The boy muttered, "Thank you…"

  "It's my pleasure." Rosaria smiled through closed eyes and opened them once again, but this time her voice contained a cold undertone, "You should go and get some sleep. We need to wake up early tomorrow after all..."

  The boy turned back around and headed to his room.

  "Sleep tight!" Rosaria got up and shouted over to him. She then slouched back down and poured herself a glass of wine. Only this time her eyes didn't contain a shred of warmth, rather replaced with boredom and coldness. She swirled the wine in her hands, and her lips curled up unpleasantly, "Sleep... very tight."

  The boy had travelled for an entire week with very few hours of sleep between, so right now he was beyond tired, and the warm futon allowed him to sleep well and comfortably. Because he grew up in the slums, where one could be in danger at any moment, his survival instinct was higher than most people’s. Thus, when midnight arrived, he was vaguely awakened by the same groaning he had heard earlier today. In addition to that, the smell of rotting wafted through the air.

  Manipulated by concern and curiosity, the boy got up and sleepily followed the sound.

  "Grrgh...." The closer the boy tiptoed to the source of the sound, the louder it got.

  Surely enough, it led him to the living room, where he saw the small door, except this time it was wide open. The boy's heart thumped. He hesitated to go any further and simply stood there. At this point, he was wide awake as curiosity and fear burned in his heart.

  The boy listened carefully and went ever so close to the door. The groaning grew louder as the smell of rotting grew strong, causing the boy to subconsciously put an arm across his nose to block the smell.

  He gulped. Someone or something was on the other side of the doorway. As the odour grew more prevalent, the boy got more curious, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

  What was in this room? In total darkness?

  There was only one way to find out. Putting all his fears to the back of his mind, the boy stepped into the room.

  When he brought his head up, an indescribable chill washed over him.