I stared at him, my decision already made.
Why would I leave? I had found a place where I could stay and be at peace—at least for now.
Looking into his eyes, I spoke with quiet determination.
"I will stay. I vow to these rules, and I shall not break them."
His gaze didn't waver. Slowly, he opened the great book once more and turned it toward me.
"Here, you leave your fingerprint."
Without hesitation, I bit my finger and pressed it to the old, yellowed paper.
He raised an eyebrow at me, his voice calm but carrying a hint of amusement.
"There… on your right… is ink. But fine, this works too."
Heat rushed to my face. I glanced away, embarrassed, yet I caught the faintest tinge of a smile on his lips before he turned toward the exit.
That tiny flicker of warmth made me feel even shyer.
Well… I did what I did. No turning back now.
I hurried after him.
"Where can I sleep? And eat? And… all that?"
He turned his head just enough to meet my eyes.
"Choose any house you like. For food, you will need to search for it yourself—just be careful what you eat or hunt in the mountains. We use no coins here, and there is no payment. You could visit the village for certain needs… but material things are not what we value. There is, however, one task you must do—sweep the main house. A clean space is important."
I nodded, listening carefully.
Then, without thinking, I bowed. My body ached from the long walk and the excitement still rushing through me.
"Yes, master."
He simply turned and walked away.
Left alone, I looked around at the silent, overgrown buildings and took a slow breath. My steps became unhurried as I began to wander, already wondering which of these strange, vine-clad houses would be mine.
She wandered until her steps slowed near the hot spring.
A smile curved her lips. Oh, I love hot water… this will help soothe my muscles.
The house closest to the spring was small, but it would do. Inside, dust clung to every surface. One narrow bed stood against the wall beside a low table and a single cushion. She dropped her belongings onto the cushion and decided to only clean the bed for now.
The bedding gave a small sigh of dust when she shook it out in the crisp air, sunlight catching the tiny motes. The mattress she brushed off with slow, steady strokes, leaving it fresher, cooler to the touch.
With a fresh change of clothes in hand, she walked toward the spring. Steam drifted upward, carrying a mineral warmth that wrapped itself around her before she even stepped in. She crouched to test the water with her fingertips—it was deliciously hot, the kind that made her want to sink in and never leave.
Her clothes fell away piece by piece until her bare skin caught the soft light. The air was cool against her curves, making her nipples tighten slightly before the water welcomed her in. She let herself sink slowly, the heat enveloping her thighs, her waist, her breasts, until every inch of her was submerged.
She ran her hands over her arms and down her sides, washing away the dirt of travel. The water beaded and rolled over her skin, gliding along the dips of her collarbone and the slope of her hips. When she rose briefly, droplets clung to her breasts and belly before the breeze made her shiver, her skin pebbling under its touch.
Her hair, now untangled, floated weightless for a moment before settling down her back in a dark, wet curtain. She waded toward a smooth curve of rocks and leaned against them, half out of the water, letting the steam caress her like a warm breath. Every knot of tension melted away, replaced by a languid heaviness that made her want to close her eyes and stay forever.
The warm water lulled my muscles, and my eyelids grew heavy. Sleep tugged at me like a soft, irresistible pull. I let myself sink deeper into the spring's embrace, the world blurring at the edges until silence and warmth were all that remained.
I woke suddenly to the sound of leaves rustling nearby—soft but distinct against the quiet. Heart quickening, I slipped out of the water and grabbed fresh clothes from the edge. My fingers trembled slightly as I pulled on my robe, wrapping it tight around me.
I scanned the bushes, but nothing moved. The noise had faded completely, leaving only the steady breath of the wind through the trees.
Exhaling slowly, I picked up my pace, my footsteps quickening as I hurried back toward the small house I'd claimed as home.
I closed the wooden door behind me and sank onto the worn bed. The silence felt heavy, pressing against my skin like a weight I couldn't shake. Anxiety prickled under my skin, a restless flutter I couldn't name.
I lay back, pulling the thin blanket over me, trying to will my racing heart to slow. But sleep refused to come.
All night, I lay awake, ears straining for the smallest sound—the creak of a branch, the whisper of wind, anything that might explain the rustling in the bushes.
Questions swirled in my mind, spinning faster than the shadows dancing on the walls. Who—or what—had moved out there? Was it friend or foe? Could I trust this place?
The night stretched on, cold and endless, and I was left alone with my thoughts, each one louder than the last.
As the morning sun slipped through the cracks in the wooden walls, I stirred, heavy-limbed and tired. I dragged myself from the bed, the chill in the air making me shiver despite the thin blanket.
I should find the master, I thought, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I don't even know his name.
There were other things on my mind too—like finding a better pillow. The one I had barely softened my aching neck. And I needed something warmer to cover myself. The nights here were colder than I expected.
I wrapped my robe tighter around me and stepped outside, the cool mountain air biting gently at my skin. Today, I'd start learning more—not just about this place, but about him too.
As I stepped outside, a sudden noise rustled from the bushes nearby. I froze mid-step, every muscle tightening.
Something was moving—slow, deliberate—hidden just beyond the leaves. An animal? A human? A monster? I had no way to tell.
Cold drops of sweat prickled down my back, even though the morning air was fresh and cool. My heart thudded loud in my chest as I stood utterly still, eyes straining to catch any glimpse of what lurked there.