The reflection was a stranger.
He didn't recognise the gaunt face in the shard of broken glass—nor the two polished obsidian stones that stared back where his blue eyes used to be. His own hands, now thin and pale, trembled as they brushed against the bloody-red lips.
Two weeks ago, the village had been filled with children's laughter, warm meals, and unshakeable family bonds.
But now—
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The sound of the elder's purification bell echoed through the woods.
A death knell.
It was getting closer.
They were looking for him.
This was where things had gone wrong.
Panic seized him. He stumbled to the back of the abandoned hunter's cabin, breath ragged, chest heaving. Shadows danced wildly across the rotting floorboards.
The shouting was just outside now, muffled only by the thin wooden walls.
CRACK. The door splintered open.
Standing in the doorway was his little sister.
Her face was twisted in pain.
But she didn't come any closer.
Instead, her voice trembled as she called out:
"Brother…"