I woke up with my body stuck to the cold, damp ground.
There was a taste of mud on my tongue, bitter and fishy. When my eyes slowly opened, all I saw was thick, dense fog that swallowed everything. As if even the sky didn't want to look at this place.
The air here… was heavy. Every breath felt like drawing poison into my lungs. I tried to lift my body, but pain in all my joints made me shiver. My knees were wobbly, and when I finally managed to sit up, I realized my already dirty clothes were even dirtier.
"Where… is this?" My voice was hoarse, almost inaudible.
No answer. Only a silent forest, too silent, as if holding its breath waiting for me to regain consciousness. The fog moved slowly between the towering trees. I didn't recognize anything. No palace walls, no crystal lights, no one.
It felt like being reborn into a world that rejected my existence.
I stared at the ground in front of me and saw a faint circle etched into the soil, like a faded magic mark. I traced it with my fingertip. It still felt warm. This was the remnant of Eldrin's teleportation spell.
They lied to me. King Thorian, Eldrin, all their words about a "power ritual," about a "chance to prove myself", it was all just an excuse to discard me.
To discard someone useless.
My chest tightened. It felt like someone had stabbed something there and was slowly twisting it. I stared at the fog with eyes beginning to water.
"Why did I believe…?" I whispered.
My voice was almost lost, swallowed by the air. I looked at my hands, trembling, dirty, and cold. Suddenly, the memory of the throne room crashed over me.
The white marble floor, the King's cold gaze, Eldrin's fake smile, and the knights who just watched coldly
Now I knew what it felt like to be discarded by the world.
I bowed my head, staring at the ground. Wet leaves stuck to my hair, the cold penetrating my skin. Every time I breathed, my chest ached. I wanted to cry, but my tears wouldn't come.
Either because they had run out, or because my body was too dry to produce them.
I hugged myself, trying to calm the trembling in my body.
"So this… is my end?" I murmured softly.
"Discarded in a foreign place, dying of starvation, with no one caring."
The words created a bitter echo in my head. But then, something within me rejected that sentence. Fear began to change form.
I don't know how long I sat there, staring at the fog. But slowly, amidst the creeping cold and hunger, something else emerged.
Anger.
Not an explosive anger, but small and sharp, like embers at the bottom of my heart.
I bit my lip. The salty taste of blood filled my mouth.
"They think I'll die here…"
I looked around. Large trees stood like black towers, and through the fog, faint sounds like rustling twigs could be heard, maybe the wind.
"…but I won't die that easily."
I stood up slowly, even though my legs were still unsteady. Every movement felt like igniting pain throughout my body, but I forced my legs to stand.
I didn't know where I should go, but staying here wasn't the right choice. The ground beneath me was slippery, and the cold air kept piercing my skin.
I walked slowly, penetrating the low-hanging fog. Every step felt like walking through a living nightmare.
I didn't know what awaited me ahead, but one thing was certain. If they discarded me because they thought I was weak… Then I would survive just to prove them wrong. Even if I had to drag this body until death.
I walked aimlessly. Every step felt heavy, as if the ground rejected the soles of my feet. Thick fog continued to hang in the air, coiling around every tree like dirty white scarves. The air here was damp and smelled of wet soil mixed with rot. It felt like the entire forest was slowly decaying.
No bird sounds, no insects, no signs of life, only faint whispers whose origin I didn't know. Sometimes I heard it like a long breath tracing my ears, sometimes like the sound of someone whispering from afar.
I stopped several times, trying to determine if it was just my imagination, but every time I held my breath, the forest's silence ambushed me.
The trees here were strange, their trunks too large, their roots snaking across the ground like giant veins, and their bark black as if burned. The leaves hung heavily, dripping clear water, whether from dew or leftover rain.
Every time I stepped, a small sound from a breaking twig was heard, but that sound was quickly swallowed by the fog. It felt like the world was waiting for something to happen.
My stomach began to ache again. The hunger from yesterday returned, its sharper, and more painful. As if my insides were trying to eat themselves. I bowed my head, holding my stomach, trying to suppress the trembling.
No food. No water. No direction.
And for some reason, that fear turned into something calmer, as if my body was already getting used to the feeling of despair.
Every step felt like part of a punishment. I stared at my trembling palms.
No blood, just thickly caked dirt. A mixture of soil, ash, and dried mud residue was stuck between my fingers. My skin felt rough, as if layers of dust and sweat had become part of it.
I wanted to wash them, but there was no clean water here, only brown puddles between the roots.
I slowly stepped closer to one of those puddles, then crouched at its edge.
I rubbed my hands slowly, but the grime wouldn't come off easily. Itching began to be felt here and there, as if my own body was rejecting all the dirt clinging to it, yet no longer had enough energy to fight it.
I bowed my head, gazing at the puddle of water between the large roots in front of me.
The puddle faintly reflected my face, and what I saw wasn't the me from before. Only the shadow of someone with dull pale skin, sunken eyes without light, and long, dirty hair sticking to the forehead.
"This isn't me…" I murmured softly. But who else could it be?
I scooped a little water from the puddle, trying to wash my face. The water was cold, smelling of metal and rotten earth. But afterward, at least I could feel a little refreshed.
My eyes looked back toward the forest stretching before me. I knew I had to keep walking, even without knowing where to.
My steps halted when I began to hear something faint. The sound of a breaking twig, then silence again. I held my breath, listening.
Silence… then again, the same sound.
But this time, closer.
I stepped back slowly, my eyes scanning the fog ahead. I couldn't see anything, but my intuition screamed that something was out there, watching me.
A cold sensation ran down my nape. Then I heard it again.
Heavy breathing. Not human. Heavy and rough, accompanied by a low growl from behind the fog.
My heart beat fast. I stepped back again, unconsciously bumping into a large tree trunk behind me. My hands searched for anything on the ground.
A rock. A branch. Anything. But all I found was a piece of damp, broken branch. I gripped it tightly, even though I knew it wouldn't be much help.
I stared into the fog. The growling sounded again, clearer, closer. The fog in front of me moved as if something large was slowly pushing through it.
I swallowed, my throat dry.
"I won't die here…" I whispered, but my voice trembled.
Then, from behind the fog, two glowing red dots appeared.
Eyes.
And in a matter of seconds, the large shadow emerged completely. There stood a giant wolf, its fur dull black, its eyes blood-red, long sharp teeth glistening with saliva. A foul smell came from its mouth, like rotten meat mixed with old blood.
My body froze. My breath caught. I had never seen a creature like this, even in the world I was discarded from.
"GRrrrrrrh"
It lowered its head slightly, growling softly, and I knew this wasn't a warning.
It was assessing. Weighing. And I realized.
It was hungry.
I gripped the branch tighter, trying to regulate my increasingly irregular breathing.
Only a few steps separated us, and in the silent fog, only the echo of my own heartbeat sounded in my ears.
I had nowhere to run. No weapons. No one.
Just me… and that monster.
I knew one thing for sure, if I just stood still, I would die.
I don't know how long we stared at each other.
The wolf remained in place, but its eyes never left me. Red and sharp, as if they could read every pulse of my fear. The fog around us swayed slowly, like the forest's breath holding the air.
I tried to take a step back, but a twig under my foot snapped.
The wolf immediately raised its head, its growl low, heavy, and long. The fur on its nape stood up, its teeth glistened, and its breath steamed warmly in the cold air.
I could feel the tension pressing down on my entire body, as if the air around me had hardened into a wall.
"No… not now…" I mumbled, but my voice was almost inaudible.
The wolf began to walk forward. Each step was slow but sure, its large paws stepping on the ground without sound, but every movement was enough to make me retreat further. The distance between us was thinning.
I could smell it. A foul smell, mixed with blood and animal sweat.
My hand still held the damp, lightweight branch. A pathetic weapon, but the only one I had.
I tried to raise it, but my arm trembled. The wolf paused for a moment, tilting its head, eyes narrowing. The growl returned, like a warning… or a mockery.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my heart. I couldn't run. The fog was too thick, and my legs were weak. If I ran, I would only fall and become prey.
The only choice was to fight, even if fighting meant dying faster.
"I don't want to die…" I whispered to myself.
Those words felt foreign on my lips, but somehow gave me a little strength.
The wolf lowered its body, ready to pounce.
I briefly thought, maybe it would be better to die now. But that thought only passed fleetingly, then vanished, replaced by a stronger urge. Something wild inside my body screamed.
I had to survive.
And as the wolf's body shot out from the fog. Without a second thought, the wolf shot toward me, attacking with fast, lethal movements.
"Raaaaghhh"
"!?"
I tried to fend it off with the branch I held, but the creature was much faster. Its front paw slammed into my shoulder, throwing my body to the ground. The branch slipped from my hand, and air was forced out of my lungs.
I coughed violently, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.
The wolf approached again. I could see every detail on its face, the yellowing teeth, the dripping saliva, and the red eyes trembling with hunger. It growled again, and this time its breath hit my face. Hot, smelly, making me want to vomit.
I grabbed a rock beside me. A small, blunt, but heavy rock. Without thinking, I slammed the rock toward its snout. Once. Twice. Blood splattered, and the wolf jumped back with an angry howl.
My hand trembled. I knew my blows didn't mean much, but at least they managed to make it back off. I got up, but my legs were unsteady.
The wolf stared at me again, its eyes glowing with thicker hatred. Its growl turned into a loud roar, making my chest feel like it was vibrating.
I swallowed, staring at the rock in my hand now covered in blood. There was no other choice. If I stopped now, I would die.
If I ran away, I would still die. I had to fight, not to win, but to stay alive for one more minute.