Geschicht woke to the familiar sky stretching above him. His head ached. “That hurt…” he muttered, sitting up.
For a moment, he swore he felt something—an unseen force nudging him awake, unsteady and uncertain. But as quickly as it came, the sensation faded, leaving only the distant sounds of rustling leaves and hurried footsteps nearby.
"Are you alright? Sorry about the boar earlier." His words carried a hint of shyness, a stark contrast to the reckless energy he'd shown while wrestling the creature just moments ago.
Geschicht blinked a few times, the haziness fading as he focused on the boy standing before him. Harriet looked uneasy, his golden eyes flickering between concern and embarrassment.
Geschicht sighed, finally pulling himself to his feet. “Not the first thing I expected when meeting someone new.” He dusted off his clothes, still feeling the lingering soreness from being knocked down.
Harriet hesitated, then offered an awkward smile. “Yeah… Not exactly a great first impression.”
Geschicht crossed his arms, tilting his head. “So, what were you even trying to do?”
Harriet looked away for a moment, as if debating whether to explain. Then, with a small chuckle, he said, “I was trying to catch it for my uncle. He said if I wanted more to eat, I should get a little meat myself.”
Geschicht raised an eyebrow. “And you thought you could take down a boar on your own?”
Harriet shrugged. “It almost worked.”
“Almost,” Geschicht repeated, shaking his head. He glanced back at the house Harriet had come from. “So, you’re the new kid in town?”
Harriet nodded. “Harriet Reacher. I live here with my uncle, Gunter. We moved in not long ago.”
Geschicht studied him for a moment, then extended his hand. “Geschicht Snow.”
Harriet looked at it, then grinned and shook it. His grip was firm, yet something about it felt… off. Geschicht couldn't quite place it—his hand felt there, but at the same time, it didn’t. As if the pressure of Harriet’s grasp was real, yet strangely weightless, like something unseen was mimicking the movement rather than his own fingers.
There was something oddly comforting about it. For a brief moment, Geschicht felt at ease.
“Well, now that we’ve met… You want to help me catch that boar?”
Geschicht let out a small laugh. “You still haven’t given up on that?”
“Not at all,” Harriet said confidently. “But maybe this time, I’ll try a different approach.”
Something about the way he said it made Geschichte pause, but he decided not to question it just yet. Instead, he smirked. “Alright, but if I get knocked out again, you owe me.”
Geschicht raised an eyebrow, still rubbing his sore side from where the boar had knocked him down. He couldn’t help but notice the confidence radiating from Harriet, his golden eyes burning with determination.
"Well," Geschicht said, standing up and brushing off his clothes, "I don't exactly carry tools around for boar hunting... But I'm sure we can find something."
Harriet tilted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That's fine. I can track it, and we can figure something out along the way." His gaze sharpened, his whole posture shifting to one of quiet focus.
Geschicht was still unsure, but there was something compelling about Harriet’s confidence—something that made him feel like this might be the start of an unexpected adventure. "Alright, lead the way," he said, gesturing for Harriet to take the lead.
Harriet gave a short nod, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Follow me."
As they walked towards the forest's edge, Geschicht couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Harriet than met the eye. Something that felt beyond ordinary. But for now, he put his questions aside, choosing instead to focus on the boar they were about to track down together.
As they made their way toward the forest, Geschicht couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of curiosity mixed with a little confusion. Harriet, despite claiming to be able to track the boar, wasn’t using any of the techniques that the rangers or the old hunters in town used. There were no marks on the ground, no broken branches, or signs of a trail to follow—nothing that hinted at where the boar had gone.
Harriet just walked forward, his steps sure and steady, as if he were following some invisible path only he could see. Geschicht glanced around, trying to make sense of it all. His father, Ehrhart, had always told him that the forest had its ways, but this didn’t seem like any of the methods the town hunters used.
"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Geschicht asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the confusion in his voice.
Harriet didn’t answer immediately. He seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment, his golden eyes fixed ahead, scanning the quiet woods. Then, with a small smile, he looked back at Geschicht. "I do. I don’t need to see the signs. I just… know."
Geschicht blinked, trying to understand. "Know?"
Harriet nodded once, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Yeah. Just trust me.”
There was something almost otherworldly in the way Harriet spoke, and for the first time, Geschicht felt the subtle weight of the mystery that seemed to follow him. Harriet wasn’t like anyone he’d met before—not in the way he moved, not in the way he thought, and certainly not in the way he seemed to understand the world around him.
“Alright,” Geschicht said, deciding to follow for now. He couldn’t deny the strange sense of assurance Harriet exuded.
As they walked deeper into the forest, the trees towering above them and the light filtering through the canopy, an odd quiet settled between the two boys. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the occasional call of distant birds.
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Finally, it was Geschicht who broke the silence. “So… what’s it like? Being new here, I mean. You must’ve had a life somewhere else before.”
Harriet’s golden eyes briefly flickered to him, but his pace didn’t falter. “I suppose I did,” he replied, his voice low and thoughtful. “But it’s never the same anywhere, is it? People, places, they all change, eventually. But I guess I never seemed to mind. I’ve seen a lot of different places. And I’m not one to stay in one place for too long.”
Geschicht nodded, feeling a mix of curiosity and confusion. “I’ve never really left this town. It feels like everyone here is… the same, in a way. They all have their work, their routine. I guess that’s fine, but I don’t think I want to just stay here forever, doing the same thing every day.”
Geschicht’s curiosity deepened. He had never really thought about the world that way. To him, the town and its people had always felt enough, like the world didn’t need to be any bigger than what he saw every day. But Harriet seemed so sure, as if the world was waiting for him to discover it, to explore.
“What do you think life is about, then?” Geschicht asked, his voice almost tentative.
Harriet paused for a moment, his eyes gazing ahead as if he were searching for something in the distance. Then, with a shrug, he answered, “I think it’s about finding what makes you want to keep going. What makes you want to live, what drives you forward. It’s different for everyone. Maybe that’s what makes it all worthwhile.”
Geschicht thought about that, his mind wandering as he considered the weight of Harriet’s words. There was a truth in them, something deeper than he could fully grasp just yet.
“So,” Harriet continued, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes, “how about you? What makes you want to keep going?”
Geschicht hesitated, his thoughts swirling. He had never really considered it before. "I don't know," he said finally, his voice quiet. "I guess I just want to figure things out. Life, the world... myself, maybe. I want to understand it all.”
Harriet smiled softly, a look of understanding in his gaze. “I think you’ll figure it out.”
They continued walking in companionable silence, both boys lost in their own thoughts. The forest seemed to stretch on forever, but now, with each step, it felt like something bigger was unfolding between them.
When the boys spotted the boar, they noticed it was wounded—its hide marred with cuts that looked like they came from rusted spears and crude clubs with stones tied to their edges.
Kobolds, small, reptilian creatures they were, emerged from the underbrush, their beady eyes fixed on the wounded boar as they rushed forward, ready to claim their prize.
“They got to it first,” Geschicht whispered to Harriet, tugging at his sleeve. “Let’s find another one and try not to let them notice us.”
But before Geschicht could pull him away, Harriet moved. In an instant, he leaped forward, straight at the nearest kobold.
The creature barely had time to react before it crumpled, its body twisting unnaturally in the air. No weapon had touched it, no blade had pierced its flesh—yet it choked on a silent gasp as its life was snuffed out. The others recoiled, confusion flashing in their yellow eyes.
Geschicht watched, stunned. Harriet hadn’t even raised a hand.
Harriet moved like a ghost through the chaos, weaving between the kobolds' wild swings with an uncanny grace. Every time one lunged, it was as if unseen hands guided him just out of reach. With each flicker of movement, another kobold fell—its body twisting midair, throat crushed or limbs bent in ways they shouldn’t be.
Geschicht barely had time to process what he was seeing. Harriet never touched them.
But then—a slash of rusted metal.
A kobold, smaller and quicker than the rest, had slipped behind Harriet unnoticed. Speaking in an incomprehensible tongue, it swung its jagged blade down. The crude weapon sliced clean through Harriet’s arm.
The severed limb hit the ground with a soft thud.
Geschicht froze, expecting blood—expecting a cry of pain.
There was none.
The fallen arm didn’t bleed. It lay still, unnatural, as if it had never been flesh to begin with.
Geschicht barely had time to think. His body moved before his mind could catch up. His hands trembled as they reached down, grasping the crude weapon from the lifeless grip of a fallen kobold. It was rough, rusted, and heavier than he expected, but he held it firm.
Geschicht felt something stir inside him—something warm, something that pushed him forward.
His curiosity had always been a quiet whisper, guiding him toward the unknown. But now, it roared.
He couldn’t let Harriet fight alone.
With a deep breath, he lunged. The kobold barely had time to turn before Geschicht drove the weapon into its chest. It let out a shrill cry, then fell still.
His heart pounded, his breath unsteady. He had never killed before. Yet, in this moment, he didn't hesitate. His curiosity burned brighter than his fear.
Geschicht tightened his grip on the weapon, his heart pounding. "I couldn’t just stand there and watch." Yet, deep inside, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been protecting him—guiding his movements in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
As the last kobold fall, the forest grew eerily silent, save for the distant rustling of leaves. The boar had long fled, leaving the two boys standing amidst the fallen kobolds. Harriet glanced at Geschicht, a grin forming on his face. "Guess that means we make a good team.”
Geschicht exhaled, lowering his weapon. "Maybe." But in the back of his mind, the warmth he had felt—the invisible force that had nudged him forward—lingered like an unanswered question.
Harriet stood there, unfazed, not a single drop of sweat on him. Geschicht was catching his breath, his hands still gripping the weapon tightly. His heart pounded against his ribs, his body buzzing with lingering adrenaline.
"You okay?" Harriet asked, tilting his head.
Geschicht wiped his forehead, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. "You're not even tired?”
Harriet shrugged. "Not really." He dusted off his sleeve, as if they hadn’t just fought for their lives. "You're the one who jumped in all of a sudden. I thought you’d just watch."
Geschicht scoffed, still trying to steady his breathing. "I thought you'd listen when I said not to fight them in the first place.”
Harriet chuckled. "Yeah, that was never going to happen." Then, with a grin, he added, "But hey, we won."
Geschicht looked around at the fallen kobolds, the warm feeling still lingering in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was relief, exhaustion, or something else entirely.
As they made their way back to town, the weight of the boar pressing on their shoulders, Geschicht stole a glance at Harriet.
"Is your arm alright?" he asked, remembering the moment it had been cut clean off.
Harriet looked at him, then down at his sleeves. With a small sigh, he lifted one, revealing the truth—there was nothing beneath it. No wound, no blood, just emptiness.
“I never had arms to begin with,” he said simply.
Geschicht stared, his mind racing. He had seen the arm fall, had seen it severed. And yet, Harriet stood there, perfectly fine. The realization sent a shiver down his spine—not out of fear, but curiosity.
“…Then how did you fight?” he finally asked.
Harriet just smiled, lowering his sleeve again. “I have my ways.”
“Why didn’t you just show that you don’t have arms from the start?” Geschicht asked.
Harriet hesitated before responding, “I guess I want people to think I’m like them, to fit in. But... when I’m with you, I don’t feel the need to hide it. It’s strange, don’t you think?”
Geschicht blinked, taken aback by the response. He hadn't expected Harriet to say something like that. The way Harriet spoke about it made it sound as if something had shifted, something subtle that neither of them could quite explain.
"It is a bit weird," Geschicht admitted.
Harriet's smile returned, a little more genuine this time. "Maybe. I guess it's because, with you, it doesn’t feel like I need to pretend."
The air between them shifted slightly, as if there were something unspoken hanging in the space they shared. The boar was heavy, but that weight felt a little easier to carry now. As they walked side by side, the silence felt natural, comfortable, like the beginning of something new, something they both couldn't quite understand yet.
“Does that mean you trust me?" Geschicht asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
Harriet didn't answer immediately, his gaze drifting ahead. "I don’t know but I think... I might be starting to.”
"We have only known each other for a few hours though.”
“Yeah” Harriet admitted, glancing at Geschicht.
As they walked side by side, unaware of the significance of the moment, the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the quiet certainty that something had already begun between them—a connection that would endure through everything that was to come.