I walk toward the river. The water runs clear, soft in sound and calm of spirit. I crouch beside it, and my reflection stares back—hollow-eyed, weary, near unfit to call human. A day upon the sea, and still the nets yield near naught. They curse me for it. Say I bring ill tide. Some whisper I ought be cast away. I wonder… perhaps they speak not false.
A tear slips forth, breaking the still mirror below. I cup my hands, take water, and drink slow. The cold spreads within, like quiet sorrow. As I pour the rest back, a glimmer catches my sight. Between the stones, something gleams.
A necklace—its chain caught beneath the current. At the midst of it, a crystal black as the void, yet glittering like stars unseen by mortal eye. I lift it to the light. The jewel shimmers with strange life.
Curiosity seizes my heart. My fingers touch its face—instantly, all light vanishes. The world twists, writhing around me. Sight and breath torn apart.
ARRKKHH—! I strive to cast it away, yet my hand obeys not. My teeth clench tight. None must hear my cry.
Then silence. The crystal falls, and I stagger back, chest heaving. My hand burns faintly. Magic. It must be sorcery… or worth more than gold.
---
KRIIINGGG—!
The bell above the relic shop sings sharp as I step within. I place the necklace upon the counter.
The old keeper peers close, his eyes narrow as blades. I bow, my hand still trembling.
"Whence didst thou steal this, boy?"
"I found it," I say softly.
A slap strikes my cheek, swift as thunder. My head turns aside, yet I utter no word.
"Didst thou steal it?" His breath reeks of smoke and ale.
"Nay," I whisper.
"HAH?!"
"I found it!" The words burst out rough. Then silence—save for the sound of my ragged breath… and the growl of my stomach.
UUKHH… I clutch my belly. Hunger mocks me.
The old man grips my collar, drags me close. "Begone," he snarls. Then, slamming the table: "OUT!"
I bow my head, step back, and leave.
---
The hill beyond the village waits—my refuge. From here, I behold the sea and all her cruel peace. The wind blows dust and salt against my skin. I lean 'gainst the tree. Hunger gnaws, yet I heed it not. My heart grows still, hollow as driftwood.
My eyes fall heavy.
DUAARRR—!
The earth trembles. I wake. Smoke—black and thick—rises from the village. Fire spreads swift, devouring roof and timber.
My breath falters. The flame… it comes from the relic shop.
I run down. Folk scream, throw water, curse the sky. The old shop is naught but ruin and ash. Amid the wreck, something glints near my feet—the same black crystal.
I stoop, lift it once more. It gleams faintly, cold and pure. I tie it around my neck. No merchant shall take it now.
I walk from the wreck toward the hill. The river by the path lies dead—its bed dry, its stones bare.
"Hmmm?" I murmur. The air itself feels wrong.
Upon the hill, my old cloak awaits. I draw it 'round my shoulders, step toward the forest path that leads far away. My name be cursed here, but elsewhere… I am yet a stranger.
Night descends. Hunger bites anew. Thirst burns my throat. My knees fail. I kneel by what remains of the river, draw a handful of water, and drink slow.
—UKKHHHHH. Pain coils within. Hunger claws my gut. My strength departs.
The world sways… darkness comes.