As Helios rode away from the encampment he was bound to, a single thought haunted him, home. He decided to return to the village where he was raised. When he arrived at the village entrance, his heart dropped. The place he once knew was now just a graveyard of ash and memory. Everything felt wrong. The wind didn't sound the same. The air didn't carry the scent of life. Starving, Helios dropped to his knees and began eating dirt and grass by the roadside just to quiet the gnawing pain in his stomach. He staggered into the village, each step landing on brittle, bone-like debris scattered across the road. Snap. Crack. Snap. Bones or sticks? He couldn't tell. And maybe he didn't want to know. Visions flickered in his mind, him playing with childhood friends, the old woman who sewed cloth and smiled at everyone, the chatter of normalcy now replaced with silence and rot. When he reached what remained of his home, the tears came without mercy. There was nothing left. Only ash. Only dust. He clawed through the debris, desperate to find anything, a photo, a trinket, a piece of his mother. Anything. All he found were cold, gray remnants of what once was. Helios looked up, trying to stop the tears.
"Why... Why did I… why did we have to go through so much suffering? I have no one left. Why… why?" His voice cracked into a scream as he pounded the earth. Again and again, until the floor gave way beneath him. He crashed into darkness. Dazed, he blinked and looked around. "Wait… was this always here?" Beneath the ruins of his home was a hidden room, untouched by fire. Shelves of books lined the walls, dust clinging to every surface. At the back of the room stood a desk, old but sturdy. It felt like a preserved memory, his father's secret office. Helios never knew it existed. Something caught his eye on the wall: a sword. Polished, gleaming. Familiar. His father's sword. He reached out, took the hilt in his hand, and wiped the snot from his nose. This meant something. He didn't know what yet, but it meant something. Crawling back up to the surface, he walked to the field, the one where they burned his mother alive. The field was quiet. Too quiet. Every step sounded louder now. Crack. Snap. Crack. Snap. CRACK. SNAP. The post she'd been nailed to was still there, half-charred. The ground beneath was a blackened, red-stained scar. Helios stared. Imagining her death: her blood boiling, skin peeling, cracking, blood vessels bursting as she screamed… He dropped to his knees and searched the ground, hands trembling. Eventually, he found pieces, bits of skull, fragments of ribs. All that was left of her. He carried the remains into the woods beyond the field. A place she used to take him, where she'd tell him stories of fairies and spirits, and of black shadows that would eat you alive. He found her favorite spot, dug into the earth, and gently placed what little remained of her into the soil. "Mother… I'm so sorry. I couldn't find the rest of you. So... some of you will still remain in that hellish field." The wind rustled the trees around him. The leaves whispered, like voices from the past. For a moment, Helios felt… calm. Then something moved. Out of the corner of his eye, something. "A deer?" he told himself. "It's nothing. I'm not deep enough in the forest for anything dangerous." Snap. He spun around. The air suddenly felt colder. Heavy. From the edge of the trees, someone stepped out. It was her.His mother. Helios froze. His breath caught. His heart hammered in his chest."Hey… is this some kind of sick joke?" She smiled softly. "Helios, dear… what are you doing here? Are you okay?" He stood, barely able to breathe. "Mother? No. You… you're dead." She reached out and held his hand. Her touch was warm. Just like he remembered. Her voice was gentle. Familiar. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered, pulling him into a hug. "I was so worried." He wept, leaning into her. He didn't care if it was real or not. It felt real. "Mother, I… I lov-" She started bleeding from her mouth. Her hug grew tighter. "What's wrong, son? Are you alright?" Her voice distorted, warped and hollow. Her mouth hung open, bleeding more with every word. Her eyes didn't blink. Her skin began to sag and melt. The warmth turned to ice. Her embrace became crushing. Helios gasped, trying to pull away, something stabbed into his stomach. Sharp. Piercing. A cold tendril, burrowing into him. The figure shifted. Her face peeled away like wax, revealing a shapeless, grinning horror. One of the shadows. The very ones from her stories. Helios screamed, thrashing as the pain intensified. He yanked his father's sword from its sheath and swung wildly. The blade sliced through the shadow's arm. It hissed, an inhuman, shrieking sound, as it struck back, slamming Helios in the ribs. He was sent flying. He crashed into the river, smacking his head on a jagged rock. Everything went dark. Above the rushing water, the shadow watched silently as Helios drifted downstream, bleeding, unconscious… but alive. For now.