I never could have imagined the pain I’d endure — or that I’d survive it.

  When I was young, I thought I’d explore the world with a smile on my face. I guess I was half right.

  A twisted tale, born from a twisted world.

  The end.

  “You’re still awake, Rias,” I said with a tired smile.

  She pointed at me and grumbled, “It’s hard to sleep when you read that stupid book every night… just like Father did when we were kids.”

  I sighed, closing the old book against my chest. “But you know this is all we have left. This — and the pendant he gave me.”

  The words turned bitter on my tongue. I shouted before I could stop myself, “Why did you have to leave?!”

  A sharp slap cracked across my face, burning hot.

  Rias’s voice trembled with anger. “You know why he left! He gave up his life to keep us safe. He’s the reason you can still feel anything at all.”

  She yanked the covers over her head, shutting me out.

  I sat there, staring at the worn floorboards, the sting of her hand still fresh. Even so… we had lost our father. And you lost your sight.

  I thought of the scar that marred her face — the place where her beautiful eyes used to shine.

  The village used to praise her beauty.

  Oh, how I wish we could go back. Back to those days when you smiled at me and Father, watching us train with our swords.

  But in the end, it was my fault. You got that scar because of me.

  I lay back and closed my eyes, slipping into a dream I could never escape — the day everything changed.

  ?

  The Cryall came without warning. Creatures of fangs and scales, looking like wolves but far worse.

  A horde of them.

  They tore through the village, ripping flesh from bone, smashing through doors, clawing into houses.

  Father shoved a sword into my hand. His voice was firm.

  “Protect your sister. I must help the village.”

  The cellar door slammed shut, locking us in the torch lit room.

  Screams echoed above us. Then silence.

  I waited… and waited… until I thought it might be safe.

  When I cracked the cellar door open, nothing moved outside.

  I pushed it wider — the wood thudding against the floor — and that’s when I heard it.

  A crash.

  Across the way, a front door shattered. A Cryall stood in the doorway, its snake-like eyes locking onto me.

  My heart froze.

  I slammed the cellar doors shut. The beast lunged, crashing into the wood. It clawed and tore, slivers of light breaking through.

  And then — it burst through.

  It tumbled down the stairs, snarling, and pounced straight for Rias.

  I stood frozen.

  Frozen while she screamed.

  Frozen while its claws raked across her face.

  Only when I saw the blood did I move.

  I leapt onto the creature’s back, only to be thrown into a table, the wood splintering beneath me.

  I gasped for air. The beast charged again. I scrambled, grabbed a broken table leg, and drove it through the Cryall’s open mouth.

  It gagged — then dropped, dead.

  I ran to Rias. Her face was slick with blood. She was still breathing, but barely.

  I grabbed a torch from the wall. My hands shook. I pressed the flame to her wounds. The smell of burning flesh filled the cellar.

  She screamed once — then went still.

  She survived.

  But her sight was gone.

  And so was the village.

  When the monsters left, they took the corpses with them. Only bloodstained dirt and ruined homes remained.

  I burned what was left.

  We gathered what we could — food, herbs, supplies — and lasted a month.

  After that, it was up to me to hunt, forage, and keep us alive.

  All that remained of our old life was ashes… and each other.

  I jolted awake, my heart pounding as the nightmare clung to me like a heavy fog. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sat up and glanced across the room. Rias was still sleeping soundly, her face peaceful beneath the worn blanket.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Quietly, I slipped out of bed, grabbed my axe, and headed outside. The crisp morning air bit at my skin, but I welcomed it. Routine was the only thing that kept my mind clear these days. I stacked some fresh firewood for the stove and the fireplace, wiping sweat from my brow when I was done.

  Before leaving, I leaned down and whispered to Rias, “I’ll be back soon. Love you, sis.” She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

  I strapped my sword to my back and set out into the woods. The forest was alive with the sounds of early morning — birds calling, leaves rustling in the breeze. I moved carefully, every step placed just as my father had taught me.

  After a short hunt, I managed to catch two rabbits. As I tied them to my belt, I smiled, remembering how my father would proudly ruffle my hair whenever I returned with game. He taught me how to skin, gut, and quarter animals, lessons I never thought would be so vital to surviving.

  On my way back, I caught a flash of movement from the corner of my eye. Before I could react, a heavy weight slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. Pain exploded through my arm as powerful jaws clamped down on my sword arm, forcing me to drop my blade.

  I cried out and struggled, shoving and kicking at the beast. A dire wolf — smaller than the ones in the legends, but still massive compared to any normal wolf — pinned me down. Its blue eyes burned with a desperate hunger.

  Panic surged through me. I thought of Rias, alone and blind, waiting for me to come back. I thought of the fire I used to save her life, of the heat, the pain, the smell of burning flesh.

  And suddenly — the fire was back.

  Flames erupted from my hand, engulfing my arm without burning me. The wolf yelped and released me, scrambling backward. I swung my burning hand wildly, not knowing what I was doing, only wanting it to stay away.

  But the wolf didn’t attack again. It staggered, its legs trembling, and then collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

  Chest heaving, I stared at the creature. It wasn’t dead, just exhausted — the ribs showed beneath its thick fur. It must have been starving for days.

  I approached cautiously, but it didn’t move. Against all reason, I picked up the limp body, gritting my teeth against the weight, and carried it home.

  ?

  Back at the house, I cooked up the rabbits — one for Rias and me, and one for the wolf. It woke after a while, sniffing the air. I pushed the food toward it. It hesitated, then devoured the meal in a few frantic bites.

  When it finished, the wolf stood shakily and bowed its head to me.

  Confused, I stepped closer, feeling a strange tug pulled at my chest. My hand moved on its own, resting on the wolf’s head.

  A sudden flash of blue light wrapped around us — a shimmering chain linked the wolf’s neck to my wrist. It lasted only a second before fading into nothing.

  The wolf looked up at me, tail wagging weakly, its blue eyes soft and trusting.

  I didn’t know what had just happened… but somehow, I knew we were connected now.

  The smell of rabbit stew filled the small house, and as I stirred the pot, I heard soft footsteps coming from the bedroom.

  “Arthur?” Rias called, her voice still thick with sleep. “What did you make for breakfast?”

  “Rabbit stew,” I answered, glancing over my shoulder with a small smile.

  The wolf, who had been lying quietly by the fire, suddenly stood and let out a low growl as Rias entered the room.

  “Hey,” I said firmly, turning to the wolf. “That’s my sister. No growling.”

  The wolf huffed, but the growl stopped. It simply stared at Rias, tail twitching slightly as she made her way to the table.

  She sat down and wrinkled her nose. “What in the world did you bring home?”

  I ladled some stew into a bowl and set it in front of her. As she took a cautious bite, I said casually, “A dire wolf.”

  She immediately spat the stew out in shock, coughing. “A dire wolf?! Like the ones from the stories Father used to tell us?”

  “Yep,” I said, leaning back against the counter with a tired grin. “Judging by his size, he’s probably still young. Maybe even a puppy. Hard to say though — I’ve never seen a dire wolf pup before.”

  Rias wiped her mouth and looked in the direction she heard the wolf. “Why…why did you bring a dire wolf home?”

  I set my bowl down and explained what happened — the hunt, the attack, the fire that had erupted from my arm, and how the wolf had collapsed from exhaustion.

  When I finished, Rias leaned closer, frowning. “How’s your arm?”

  I flexed it carefully. “It’s fine. I bandaged it when I got back.”

  She let out a long breath, relief softening her face. “Good.”

  She picked up her spoon again and, after a wary sigh, resumed eating the stew. I grabbed my own bowl and finally sat down across from her, digging into the meal.

  The wolf, still watching us quietly, settled down by the fire, its blue eyes flickering with something almost like contentment.

  Rias tilted her head in my direction, her voice soft with curiosity. “So… what are you going to name our new companion?”

  “Oh, right,” I said, blinking. “I kinda forgot about that.” I turned to the wolf, thinking. “How about… Ken?”

  The wolf narrowed his eyes at me and let out a low growl.

  “Okay, okay, not Ken,” I laughed, raising my hands. “Tough crowd. How about… Sk?ll?”

  At the sound of the name, the wolf’s tail began to wag.

  “Sk?ll it is, then,” I said with a grin. “Nice of you to join the family, Sk?ll.”

  He lifted his head and let out a long, excited howl. That same blue light flared around his neck again, and the shimmering chain reappeared — only this time, a small name tag hung from it.

  I stepped closer. Carved into the tag, glowing faintly, was a single word: Sk?ll.

  Then, just like before, the light vanished — chain and all — as if it had never been there.

  But I could feel it. The connection between us had grown stronger. Deeper.

  Why?

  Why did it feel that way?

  And why does this chain keep appearing?

  Rias perked up, her head turning toward the sound.

  “What was that? That noise… and that feeling of energy in the room.”

  I told her about what happened — the flash of light, the chain, the name tag.

  “Maybe that chain is the reason he listens to you,” she said thoughtfully. “Like… you’re bonded now. He understands your words. Maybe even your thoughts.”

  “I’ve felt something like that,” I admitted. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s like we’re linked in a way.”

  I shrugged and glanced toward the wolf, who had laid back down by the fire. “In any case, it’ll be nice having a wolf around the house. Maybe I’ll have him stay here and guard you while I’m out.”

  Rias sighed. “Arthur, it’s been two years since the attack. Not a single monster since. I’ll be fine here alone. You should bring him with you… in case something like that happens again.”

  Sk?ll let out a small sigh, almost as if he regretted attacking me earlier. Then he stood, padded over, and gently licked the bandages on my wounded arm.

  “It’s okay, Sk?ll,” I murmured, scratching behind his ear. “You were just hungry.”

  He gave me one last look, then turned and returned to his spot near the fire, curling up peacefully.

  I watched him for a moment, then said aloud, “You know… maybe one day, he’ll grow big enough for you to ride. We could leave this empty village behind and head to a real city.”

  Rias smiled faintly and asked, “And what will you do then?”

  “Maybe I’d become an adventurer,” I said, only half joking.

  Rias let out a snort. “Do you even know what an adventurer does?”

  I straightened up a little. “Well… Father told me they take on quests — things normal people can’t handle. Like slaying monsters.”

  She laughed, loud and unrestrained. “Well, Father could’ve been one. But you? You couldn’t even protect me”

  I flinched, her words stinging more than I wanted to admit. “That was years ago. I was just a kid.”

  “You still are a kid,” she teased, a smug smile tugging at her lips. “A kid who barely beat a dire wolf that was smaller than him — and starving, if I recall correctly.”

  I groaned and threw my hands up in defeat. “Fine, you win. But I’m still going to become an adventurer.”

  “Whatever you say, big shot—”

  Sk?ll growled — low, guttural, dangerous. His fur bristled as he turned sharply toward the door, teeth bared.

  Then —

  Knock. Knock.

  Not frantic. Not timid.

  Slow. Deliberate.

  The sound echoed through the house, rattling the stone like a whisper turned into thunder.

  Rias stiffened beside me. “Arthur…?”

  I didn’t answer.

  My hand reached for the hilt of my sword as I stepped forward, heart pounding.

  “Stay here,” I said quietly, my voice sharper than I intended.

  Another knock followed.

  This time… louder.