"There is nothing more pathetic than a slave who begins to trust his slaver."
— Sunny to Hero, Shadow Slave / Chapter 13: Moment of Truth
***
"Have you ever heard a legend? Those legends… that range from inconceivable mysteries to deformed mythical creatures…
One-legged men, headless horses, floating children, talking animals, a boy with glasses casting spells, children becoming kings, or even a magic ring with a will of its own...
They all had one important beginning principle: the inevitability of death.
Most human stories are about one thing, aren't they? Death. The inevitability of death.
So, the part that defines a character in stories like that is just one: whether he cares about dying or killing to get what he wants…
But… What if a character had no defined morals? What if he NEEDED to build them?
Sir M.G.G. Talkien."
For some reason, Alexander recalled a piece of a manuscript. It came to his mind — just like that, out of nowhere. Like a passing breeze blowing through his young, malleable mind.
And even without understanding it, he felt he should hold on to it. Then, he went back to looking for the bags with Evandro.
They were among the forest trees, already in the morning — they'd been searching for the bags since dawn.
Evandro, of course, was also lost in thought — after all, there was too much to take in…
'Was that all? There must be something more… If our bags disappeared… I sense something… It's not possible we defeated them in a psychological game like that.'
He had finally returned to the clearing. His legs were weak; it felt as if they'd been beaten with clubs multiple times.
Sighing, he collapsed — lying on the grass, hands clasped beneath his neck.
For a few minutes, he tried to clear his mind somehow — staring at the sky, cloudless.
Suddenly, he heard a faint rustling near the edge of the clearing — he hadn't noticed it before, but his perception had improved significantly.
Evandro turned his head and realized it was the same direction from which they had entered the nightmare.
In a flash, he was on his feet. Frowning and narrowing his eyes — he tilted his head slightly.
Rush!
His expression shifted rapidly as he hurried toward the bushes near a pair of trees.
He crouched by the shrub and excitedly tore away some branches.
"FOUND IT!!! I FOUND OUR B–ag…"
In front of him lay a bag. Larger and sturdier than the previous one.
Alexander came running from the opposite side of the clearing. His armor gleamed fiercely under the early morning sun, sending fiery rays of light toward the unprepared.
He stopped near Evandro, panting and leaning on his knees.
"Our B–Bag?"
Evandro slowly turned his head, his face severe, lips tight, eyes nearly shut, and fists subtly clenched.
"No… it looks like… the creatures left us another little gift…"
But his urge was to scream out his indignation at these creatures and their incomprehensibly idiosyncratic behavior.
'Who are they? Is this some kind of fun game? It could be anything… But why do they do this?'
He frowned and stood up, losing interest in the new bag.
'Lately… they just populate my imagination — if I can even call it that… it feels more like a hard, intangible stone…'
His focus then shifted to Alexander's uncontained excitement.
"Hey, great hero! Looks like we got lucky…"
Evandro turned, still indifferent — noticing a glass vial in Alexander's hand.
"What?"
"There are all-in-one potions in here…"
He paused.
"There are 8."
Evandro took a few discreet steps back — swallowing hard.
"You didn't drink one, did you?"
Alexander shrugged.
"I did…"
Evandro stepped back again.
"How can you be sure it's not something else? You kno—"
Alexander smiled.
"Oh… simple. I drank it and felt all my energy return… it's not something you can just replicate with regular potions."
It was a logical and plausible argument. But Evandro hesitated.
"And what if… if it has a dual effect? Helps you and then k—"
Alexander cut him off, tossing the potion to him — forcing Evandro to catch it.
"I–I'm not g–going to dr–"
Mid-stammer, he stopped, uncorked it, and drank it all in one go.
The slightly warm and acidic liquid coursed through his body as if it would melt his organs from the inside out.
But as soon as it hit the walls of his stomach, he felt relief.
Quick blood pulses began to surge through his body. He felt his muscles swell slightly, his vocal cords deepen, and his vision expand in a sudden burst.
It truly was a rare and genuine all-in-one potion — far better than the ones they had brought for the journey, which were mere imitations.
Still, Evandro asked himself again: why would the creature or creatures give him such rewards again?
This time, however, he felt he should accept it… There was something deeper they didn't understand about the 'Winter and Summer Killers.'
The prophecy might be related to this… Or, going further, maybe… just maybe… they weren't the only ones who survived…
He figured it was best if Alexander carried the bag, but didn't say why.
Evandro and Alexander ventured into the forest again, in the same direction as before: center-east.
The journey was uneventful for many hours. They found nothing unexpected. A silence enveloped the forest, such that every step, every breath — deep or not — made the lonely trek almost exhausting.
But, for better or worse, sunset arrived.
What were they to do? Their minds wandered, still thoughtful and slightly contemplative.
Yet, their reveries were almost immediately snapped back to reality.
Amid the silence, it seemed that the ever-present rustling of the trees had reduced to soft and timid sounds.
The wind withdrew and stopped abruptly.
Snap!
A cracking sound echoed from their right.
Snap. Click!
Again it echoed — but this time, with a slight downward tonal shift at the end.
Snap. Click! Snap.
It repeated again, but now, there was no clear direction.
Snap. Click! Snap. ~ Snap. Click! Snap. ~ Snap. Click! Snap. ~ Snap. Click! Snap.
A low cycle with 1-second intervals every three sounds.
Alexander and Evandro waited a few seconds — peering into the shadows, hoping to see something.
But the noise persisted, and they saw no other option but to draw their swords.
Under the orange filaments of sunset filtering through the tree leaves, their swords reflected a brilliant glow — mixed with the enchanting shimmer of the blades.
Alexander, almost immediately, noticed something: the glowing line on the sword's edge only lit up when he held it.
However, his admiration quickly faded — he frowned — as he looked more closely at the sword's reflection.
His eyes widened instantly, and a hysterical heat washed over his entire body.
A black, shapeless figure, like dark mist, stared at them — with milky white eyes marked by crimson pupils.
He froze, body and soul.
The "thing" smiled back at him through the reflection — white teeth surrounded by crimson ink.
"Hello, Chosen Ones!"