The world outside the orphanage felt colder than Lith had expected.
The air clung to his skin, moist with mist, and every breath left his lips in a thin white puff. The stars remained hung stubbornly above the horizon, blinking downward like tiny, apathetic eyes. His boots crunched softly across the gravel road, the only sound aside from the occasional hoot of an owl hidden somewhere in the trees.
"Creepy..." Lith mumbled under his breath, trying to mask the lump in his throat with humor. "Five minutes out of the orphanage, and I already feel like some monster's about to gobble me up. Great start, Lith. Just amazing."
He chuckled at his own joke, but the sound fell flat against the silence. He hugged the strap of the tiny bag tighter to his chest, as if squeezing it might ward off the loneliness creeping in. Behind him, the orphanage's bell tower stood like a fading silhouette, shrinking with each step.
Don't look back. If he turned around, if he caught one last glimpse of that warm light in the windows, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep moving forward.
——
The road stretched on, flanked by crooked trees whose branches clawed at the night sky. Lith's thoughts wandered back to Seraphine's shaky voice, Toren's persistent tears, and Father Aldric's weary eyes. He strained his lips into a grin.
"Come on, it's not that bad. People leave home all the time. I'm just... ahead of schedule."
A dry laugh slipped from him. "Yep, totally fine. Just a fifteen-year-old with no plan, no money, and healing gift no one wants. What could possibly go wrong?"
The silence responded with the low croak of frogs by a nearby stream.
——
While he was walking, a faint creak broke the monotony—creeak... creak...—like wood under pressure. Lith perked up, narrowing his eyes at the bend ahead.
Huh? An old man at this hour? Isn't it a bit too early for him to already be out working?
"Uh, Mister? Do you need help?" Lith called out, jogging closer.
The old man lifted his gaze, blinking beneath the shadow of his hood. His beard was wiry silver, and his face looked aged, like broken leather. "Eh? Boy... ah, no, no. Don't bother yourself. This stubborn cart has been with me for longer than my knees. It will outlast both of us."
Lith gave a twisted smile. "Doesn't sound too reassuring. Here, let me help."
Before the man could object, Lith pressed his hands against the steering wheel. He pushed with all the strength he could gather from his thin frame. The mud squelched—Slurp!—and the wheel broke free. The wagon lurched forward, nearly tipping over before settling.
The old man blinked in surprise, then he let out a raspy, warm laugh. "Well now... strong arms for such a thin frame. Thank you, boy."
Lith shrugged, wiping mud from his palms. "Guess I'm good for something after all."
The man studied him more closely, his gaze lingering on the faint glow etched into Lith's hand—the Healing Sigil. His smile faded, replaced by a gentler expression, almost tinged with pity.
"You walked from the church up there, didn't you?"
Lith stiffened. "... Yeah, how do you know?"
The man tapped his own chest, where faded, broken lines from an old mark stretched across his skin. "Because once, long ago, I walked that same road. Left with a bag, just like yours. Left with a gift no one wanted."
Lith's breath caught in his throat. His eyes flicked at the man's trembling hands and he hunched back. "You mean...?"
"Aye," the old man replied softly. "Failed, weak, unwanted." He chuckled, but not bitterly. "Yet here I am, still breathing. Still walking, that's what really matters."
Lith felt a tightness in his throat. He wanted to ask more, but the man simply gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't give up, boy. Not every path is lit with fire and thunder. Sometimes the dimmest flame burns the longest."
Then, with a nod, the old man pulled his cart onward, creaking into the mist until he vanished.
Lith stood there, frozen, the old man's words echoing in his heart.
The dimmest flame burns longest...
He stared at the road ahead. For the first time since leaving, the silence didn't feel empty—it felt patient. Waiting.
——
Hours later, he finally came to stop beneath a gnarled willow tree, his legs aching from the journey. With a heavy thud, he dropped his bag to the ground.
"... Might as well see what's inside."
He unfastened the flap and peered in. Neatly packed were two loves of bread wrapped in cloth, a flask of water, and a folded tunic and cloak. His heart ached at the sight—he could already picture Seraphine fussing over the clothes, while Father Aldric grumbled about practicality.
Then, something metallic clinked.
Lith frowned and dug deeper into the bag. A small silver cross slipped into his hand, its surface cools against his palm. He felt his breath catch.
"... Seraphine..."
He stared at it until his vision blurred. A shaky laugh bubbled up. "Even out here, you two are babying me..."
In a rush, he looped it around his neck before the tears could fall.
——
He began walking once more, pressing deeper into the forest with only the pale glow of the moon to guide his way. Hours had passed since he finally left behind the church that had once been his home. Then—scritch, scritch—a rustle drew his attention. From the underbrush, a rabbit stumbled out, its hind leg twisted, its fur matted with blood.
Lith's instincts kicked in. "Hold still, little guy... I got you "
He pressed his glowing hand towards the wound. The Healing Sigil pulsed faintly—Shhhp!—and warmth bled into the rabbit's body. Slowly, the bleeding stopped. The flesh knit, though uneven, leaving the leg still stiff.
Lith let out a breath, slumping back. "... Is that it? That's all I can do?"
The rabbit twitched, then hopped off awkwardly into the brush.
Lith dropped his head against the tree trunk with a dull thunk. Pathetic. Can't even heal a rabbit properly, what kind of gift is this? But a faint smile crept onto his lips, genuine despite everything. "... Still, better than nothing."
——
As dawn crept closer, Lith pressed on through the forest, the canopy overhead swallowing the sky. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and curled up beneath the roots of an ancient oak. The silver cross rested against his chest as he whispered into the darkness.
"... God. If you're listening, don't let Mina's cough get worse. And... maybe keep me alive long enough to make Toren eat his words. Thank you... Amen."
The forest was wrapped in silence, and then—Flick!—a spark of light danced before his eyes.
A firefly floated by, moving lazily. Then another joined, and soon a dozen more appeared, twirling in slow spirals. Lith blinked, a smile creeping onto his face. "...Wow, that's beautiful. Guess you're trying to impress me, huh?"
The fireflies thickened, swirling around him like a dazzling cloud. Their glow intensified, pulsing in a rhythmic beat—whum...whum...—until he felt a tingle on his skin.
"Uh... Guys? What are you—whoa, hey!"
The swarm lifted him an inch off the ground, and his bag floated alongside him, as if it were weightless.
Lith flailed his arms. "W-wait—waitwaitWAIT! I didn't sign up for flying lessons! Put me down!"
But the fireflies paid him no mind, carrying him deeper into the woods. Branches whipped past him—whshhh! Snap—as the glowing current pulled him along.
"S-seriously? Kidnapped by bugs?! Is this how I'm going to go out?!"
The fireflies carried him onward, leading Lith to an unknown part of the forest—until, to his surprise, the trees slowly gave way to a clearing bathed in an ethereal violet glow. They set him gently upon the mossy ground before scattering, drifting apart like fading sparks into the night.
Lith stumbled to his feet, his heart racing. His eyes widened in disbelief.
In the center of the clearing lay a creature—massive and majestic, its fur shimmering with shifting shades of silver and indigo. Its chest rose and fell with deep, slumbering breaths. The surrounding air hummed with a quiet power, heavy yet peaceful.
Lith froze, his throat suddenly dry.
"... Oh...crap."
The creature's ear twitched. It eyes flickered open, glowing like twin lanterns in the dark.
Lith's breath caught in his throat. His knees felt weak. The beast was staring right at him.