My name is Lylly Wold, and I live a modest life with my family in the shadow of the divine beast Emet's mountain.
At least, I did until the day I saw him.
It was the twenty-third of July, in the year 1102. The scorching heat was a heavy cloak, and the mosquitoes were the size of small hummingbirds. I had just turned twenty, and the relentless pressure to accept a marriage proposal had begun.
I suppose it was inevitable.
Most women in the village my age were already mothers; it was a strange, isolating experience watching my childhood friends mature into adults raising children of their own. Yet, the thought of marriage and motherhood felt like a precipice—a sacrifice of my own fledgling freedom. Still, with the traditional winter engagement festival looming, I knew my duty to my mother, little sister, and poor old granny.
The bride price would ensure they were well-fed for a year. Nevertheless, it felt like I was being auctioned, and the fact that I had the privilege to choose only made the feeling of selling myself more acutely real.
I did my best not to dread the festival, where I would attend this year with my sixteen-year-old sister, Eleanor.
If only Ehlite, the God of our world, had blessed me.
Though, simultaneously, I was grateful he hadn't. The Blessed led distinct lives, often journeying far and wide. If our village possessed even one, perhaps we wouldn't be forced to offer so much livestock each August to appease the monster Emet.
My grandmother, Vistellia Wold, a respected village elder and healer, used to tell me stories of her youth. Back then, the men went to battle Emet each August, and their sacrifice alone was enough to settle the monster's hunger for the year. It was only after a particularly devastating August that the surviving women collectively began to offer livestock, sparing the men from a cruel death.
Today was unfolding like any other. I fed the pigs and chickens, then sought refuge in the Sen River's cool, clear water.
Meanwhile, Eleanor was out gathering medicinal wildflowers for Grandmother. Eleanor always made sure our stocks were high for the sacrifice season.
Even without the threat of death, the men, being men, still felt the need to test their mettle against the monster. Some sought to showcase their skills; others chased the worthless glory of having survived the beast. Every year, some died, and those who returned bore reminders for the rest of their lives.
I dried and dressed myself quickly. I needed to find Eleanor; she often paused to admire things no "normal" girl did—a particularly special flower or a disgusting bug that others would simply crush. I always had to watch her, though lately, she had matured, starting to behave with a bit more propriety.
Walking through the tall grass that tickled my palms, I finally spotted her in the distance, kneeling near the riverbed, staring intently at the far bank.
"Eli... What are you doing?" I was close enough now to see her wide eyes fixed on something across the river.
My sister was the spitting image of Mother and, in some ways, Granny: all shared that distinct blonde hair. It made me the odd one out with my father's black, curly locks; I often felt like the neighbour's child standing beside them.
She didn't turn her head. If it's another goldfish, I swear I'm pushing her in.
"Lylly... I think that's a dead body." She pointed a steady finger toward a part of the riverbank obscured by reeds.
I froze for a second, then quickly overcame the shock and ran to her side. I scanned the water, but saw nothing. "Eli, are you sure it's not just a floating log or—another fish?" I kept my eyes fixed on the spot, willing a piece of evidence to support my own hopeful hypothesis.
She pointed again. Following her gaze, I saw it. She was right.
A man lay sprawled on the far bank. He was motionless, blood from his head still seeping into the swift-running water. He looked undeniably dead.
"We need to cross the river and check. Then we'll speak to the elders and arrange a burial." I placed a hand on her shoulder, ready to lead her away.
I can't believe I have to go out of my way to deal with some random, washed-up corpse.
It took us twenty minutes to reach him. Up close, he was indeed still as death.
"You don't have to look, Sisi. Let's just go get Grandmother or someone else." I looked away, deeply uncomfortable with the sight of a dead body.
"We haven't checked, Sisi. Granny would scold us. I'll go look." With careful steps, she moved toward the man.
"Eli, wait..."
She was already kneeling beside him, fingers pressed to his neck, searching for a pulse.
"Lylly, go get Grandmother, he's alive! Hurry!" She whipped around, her face alarmed.
"Eli... Are you s—"
"Just go! His head is bleeding, and we need people to carry him. Go!" Her expression quickly shifted from urgency to fierce impatience.
I did not want to leave my little sister with an unconscious, unknown man, but I turned and ran anyway. The faster I could get someone to take this burden off our hands, the better.
I raced toward the village center, passing several people I knew, but focused on reaching my grandmother first. I burst into the Town Hall, frantically searching the wide, open space.
"Sweetheart, what is the matter?"
I spun around to face my grandmother. Vistellia Wold was nearly sixty, yet looked younger. Though we all outgrew her in height, which annoyed her greatly.
"Granny, there's a man Eli found... he's alive but bleeding. Come quickly..." I tried my best to convey the urgency, clutching my side to catch my breath.
She didn't hesitate. Her surprised expression melted instantly into a determined resolve. "You two, come with me to carry him. Lylly, show the way." She pointed at the closest available men and sped off with them in tow.
I had to run to keep up and actually show them the way.
We returned to find Eli had already dragged the stranger under a nearby tree and was checking his body for more injuries. She had used a strip of fabric torn from her own dress to press against the wound on his head.
He was tall and powerfully built, and his light-blue hair made him look utterly unique. I also noticed his pants and boots were made of high-quality, fine material.
"Eli, talk to me."
Grandmother knelt beside her, pulling out various ointments and pastes. She applied something smelling of peppermint to his head, presumably to staunch the blood. Eleanor had always been her little helper.
"Granny, besides his head, he has severe bruising on his back and arms," she said, gently turning him to point out the affected areas. "I think he must have fallen from a great height into the Sen and traveled for miles."
"Calm down, sweetheart. I'm here now, let me see." Granny soothed her and took over, checking his badly bruised torso.
I, along with the two men, Dilip and Menir, stood some distance away, watching Granny examine his injuries.
"Dilip, Menir, please lift the boy. We will take him to my home. I can treat him best there." She stood, taking Eleanor with her.
The men gently lifted him and followed Granny toward our house. Why our house? The infirmary is empty.
I took Eli's hand and walked after the unknown man—or boy, I supposed. To Granny, everyone looked like a boy.
"I know what you're thinking." Eli pulled her hand free and looked up at me with accusing eyes.
"No, you don't, Miss Healing Angel." I ruffled her hair slightly. "Ehlite might bless you if you keep saving every random person you find."
She didn't fall for my taunt. "I know Granny taking him home bothers you. She just doesn't want to walk back and forth between the infirmary and the house." Her eyes remained fixed on Granny's back. "You need to get over your irrational fear of all men."
She let go of my hand and ran to catch up with the others. She either wanted to see Granny in action—she made a point to be present for every injury—or she was still angry at me for refusing to marry.
It's not that I hate men. It's just... yeah, okay. Her words might have a solid basis.
By the time we reached our house, people were already waiting outside. The news of a strange person found near the river would spread to every one of the village's barely one hundred inhabitants in minutes. With the closest town nearly a day's ride away, our little place was starved for entertainment.
Lucian, a neighbour with a hopeless crush on Eli, was among the first. "Lylly... is it true Eli found a dead body?" He turned, his hair whipping around with the excitement.
I sighed. "He is not dead. Why would we bring a corpse inside the house?" I didn't want the entire village's attention on us. Once, a traveling band of performers came and stayed for a week, staging dramas about faraway royal woes. It felt like a festival. I loved the princess stories, those fairy tales where it was so easy to be found by a kind, loving prince.
I pushed my way inside the house and saw Mother boiling water and gathering clean cloths.
"Need my help, Mother?" I stepped closer, offering assistance, though I knew that beyond carrying things, I would be useless.
"Did Eli scold you again?" She looked at me, concerned. Am I that transparent?
"...I think she's angry at me because of the last winter festival." I turned away slightly, afraid my mother harboured similar feelings.
After I refused yet another set of suitors, who hadn't looked at me since, we suffered a harsh winter. Food was scarce, and it was unusually cold. Eli fell sick for weeks. We prayed to Ehlite every night for her fever to break. It was a bad memory, and I felt guilty. If only I had accepted the offer, or any before it. We could have afforded more firewood and better food, and had a man in the house to help with the harder work.
Once your desired freedom starts to look like plain selfishness to those near you... it might have already happened with me.
"Stop thinking nonsense for once. Nobody is holding it against you. Least of all Eli, and—"
"Seline, where is the water?!" I heard Granny's voice, and my mother left with the pot, giving me an apologetic smile.
She said that, but I had a feeling that this winter festival, Eleanor would accept her first offer, most likely Lucian's. This year would be my fourth, and if I received a single offer, I should feel lucky. Refusing so many, then seeing them start happy families with someone I knew growing up, made for awkward encounters.
Is it so wrong to want more?
I followed Mother into the main room with a somewhat guilty heart. The man was on his stomach, and Granny was treating his back, which was covered in a lattice of scars. I guess he is a soldier. Slaves wouldn't wear such high-quality leather boots.
"Some of these are old... he looks so young, though." Eleanor ran her hand along a deep vertical cut on his back. It looked like he had been close to being cut in half. They did look old; he must have had a hard life.
After twenty minutes of Granny and my sister working in synchronicity, Granny wiped her hands and stood up. "We've done all we can. He won't die, at the very least. Let him rest, and we will see once he opens his eyes."
Granny went outside, Mother close behind her.
Eleanor was still touching the man's back.
"Eli, stop touching him already... what are you doing?" I knelt down and saw her eyes shining.
"Prude."
She didn't listen; she just hit me with a deeply personal, long-standing taunt. Over the years, I had acquired this unfair moniker from the village—just because I hadn't had children yet, I was somehow prude.
I huffed and left the room. There was no point arguing with her. I walked over to where my female role models were and poured myself some tea.
"...He is no older than Lylly, and yet his body looks battle-worn," Granny was saying, looking for answers before the man woke. "I feel we have found a soldier of some faraway kingdom, or perhaps from right here in Insatel. There is nothing on his clothes or inside them that could tell us."
"Mom, we just wait until he is up." My mother got up and checked the room I had just left. "Since you said he might be a soldier, shouldn't we put someone to guard him?"
"Seline, the boy has been through a lot. I doubt he was able to walk for days, let alone attack anyone," Granny stretched, making herself more comfortable. "But just in case, I'll ask Dilip to stay near for a couple of days."
Eleanor soon joined us after washing her hands and face. She looked flushed.
"You look like a tomato... where exactly did you end up touching him?"
"ELI!?"
She looked embarrassed but didn't back down. "Calm yourself, Mother," she took a seat and held her accusing gaze. "I'm a healer in training. I need to touch my patients every now and then." She turned to me. "Besides, someone who has never even touched a man, you sure talk a lot, Lylly."
I was ready to tear into her.
"Enough!" Mom was quick to stop us. "With all that's happening, I assume no one finished their chores... so go get to it."
My mother shut it down.
I got up and followed Eli outside. I was done with most of my chores, but I wanted to help gather flowers with her and make up.
"Who do you think he is?" I asked, trying to find a topic I knew she cared about. "Granny thinks he is some kind of soldier."
Eli didn't answer for a few seconds. She turned around with a radiant smile.
"Whoever he is..." she beamed like the sun, "I think our boring days might have come to an end."
Looking at her face, I knew instantly. This boy was trouble and nothing else.