Kalen had been walking for hours—maybe even a full day—through the dense, unending forest. His legs ached with each step, and his throat burned with thirst. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything in almost twenty-four hours. But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
The thick canopy above dimmed the sky, and eerie sounds echoed around him—snapping twigs, rustling leaves, distant howls. Still, Kalen pressed on, his heart pounding with a strange sense of urgency.
Then, suddenly, he saw it.
Light.
Faint at first—like the glimmer of a distant flame—but it grew brighter as he pushed forward through the thick underbrush. Hope surged in his chest.
He quickened his pace, and moments later, the forest opened up.
Kalen stumbled out into a completely different world.
Bright streetlights glowed overhead. Smooth roads stretched ahead, lined with buildings made of shining glass and steel. People walked with purpose, some chatting, some hurrying, dressed in clothes he'd never seen before. Sleek vehicles zoomed past him, humming quietly.
It felt like stepping into the future.
Dazed, Kalen took a few steps forward, trying to process it all.
That's when he saw it—a large, gated building at the edge of the street, marked by an enormous maple tree with crimson leaves swaying gently in the breeze.
He walked toward it, but his vision blurred.
His knees buckled.
Kalen collapsed just near the gate.
A car pulled up to the building and stopped abruptly.
The door opened, and a man stepped out. He looked toward the gate, his eyes narrowing when he saw a boy lying motionless on the ground.
Kalen, at the edge of consciousness, heard only muffled footsteps approaching.
And then—
Darkness.
He blacked out completely.
What happened next was a blank in his memory.
Mr. Maeron sat in his study, eyes scanning through the papers scattered across his desk. Yet, despite the quiet rustle of documents and the occasional tick of the clock, his attention was half on the boy lying on the bed before him.
Suddenly, a small movement caught his eye.
The boy stirred—slowly, as though awakening from a deep, heavy sleep. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing a pair of guarded eyes. He looked around, dazed, then locked eyes with the man seated nearby. Recognition flickered for a brief second—he had seen this man step out of the car just before collapsing.
Mr. Maeron leaned forward in his chair, a soft smile warming his otherwise composed face."How are you, my boy?" he asked gently.
There was no reply.
The boy stared at him silently, unmoving, unreadable.
With a quiet sigh, Mr. Maeron turned toward the door. "Ms. Mary," he called, "please bring something for the child to eat."
Moments later, Ms. Mary entered the room with a tray—freshly baked cakes and a tall glass of juice. She placed it gently on the table beside the bed and gave the boy a kind smile.
Kalen sat up slowly, his body aching, his mind spinning with hesitation. His instincts screamed not to trust strangers, not to accept kindness. But his stomach growled painfully, betraying his pride.
He hesitated only for a moment more—then gave in.
The food disappeared quickly, as if afraid someone would take it away. Crumbs clung to his fingers, and the juice vanished in one long gulp.
Mr. Maeron watched silently, heart heavy with curiosity and concern.
When Kalen was done, Mr. Maeron tried again."What's your name, son? Are you hurt anywhere? Can you tell me where you're from?"
But the boy didn't respond.
Not a word. Not even a shake of his head.
He just stared ahead, expression blank—shielded.
It was clear: the boy had locked himself behind a wall, and no matter how kind the voice or gentle the question, he wasn't letting anyone in.
Mr. Maeron exhaled slowly, accepting defeat for now.
"Very well," he said softly, turning to Ms. Mary."Give him some clean clothes and assign a dormitory for him to rest. Let him stay here for a while—until we find out where he came from… or until he decides to speak."
He stood up, adjusted his coat, and with one last glance at the silent boy, he left the room.
Kalen sat on the bed, eyes lowered, the faint taste of sweetness still on his lips.But inside, he remained a storm of silence.
As Mr. Maeron stepped out of the cabin, the door clicked shut behind him, leaving a quiet stillness in the air. Ms. Mary turned toward the boy who sat stiffly on the bed.
Her voice was gentle but firm."Dear boy, please follow me. I'll show you your room. From now on, you'll stay there until we find out about your parents."
At the mention of parents, something flickered across Kalen's face—barely perceptible, like a shadow brushing through his eyes. Pain? Fear? Loss?But whatever it was, it disappeared just as quickly, buried under the same stony silence.
He gave no reply, no nod, no gesture.Still, he rose from the bed and followed Ms. Mary without a word, his footsteps light and quiet like he was used to walking unseen.
The hallway stretched ahead of them, lined with softly glowing wall lamps and doors numbered in bronze. Finally, Ms. Mary stopped at one—Dorm No. 1037.
She opened the door and stepped aside.
Inside, the room was modest but warm. Two boys, around Kalen's age, sat on opposite beds, chatting idly until the door opened. They looked up, falling silent as Ms. Mary stepped in with the stranger behind her.
"Boys, this is Kalen," she introduced with a small smile. "He'll be staying with you for now. Please help him settle in."
The boys nodded politely, casting curious glances at the new arrival.
Kalen said nothing. He didn't even meet their eyes.
The cold aura surrounding him was unmistakable—like a silent warning to stay away. The warmth of welcome that had started to rise in the room slowly faded.
Ms. Mary lingered for a moment, waiting, hoping for even a small sign of acknowledgment from Kalen. But he stood still, like a statue carved from shadow and silence.
With a quiet sigh, she left the room and gently shut the door behind her.
For a moment, no one spoke.
The other two boys exchanged glances, shrugged slightly, and returned to their own conversations in low tones, careful not to disturb the new boy who had already built a wall between them.
Kalen walked slowly to the empty bed in the corner, sat down, and stared out of the small window, where the sky was slowly turning the color of ash.
He didn't speak.
He didn't look.
But deep within his guarded heart, something churned.