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It was almost noon when the young boy in a tunic and a cloak arrived at the plank roots forest. The name he gave it came from the tall tree roots that he had to use both hands to climb over. After finally getting over, he picked up the empty linen bag by his feet, covered his long golden hair with the hood, and continued on, unable to shake off the scene from a few days ago at breakfast.

At that time, he was eating the unchanging fruit porridge with a wooden spoon, and looking through the narrow square window on the thick stone wall at the three-parted grassland, forest, and sky. His father, kneeling in front of the fireplace, suddenly stopped confessing, took off his leather boots from the iron rack, and sat opposite him.

"You're eating more and more, Capillata." Father drew a small knife from his belt and skillfully trimmed the loose leather. "It's strange because you don't seem to be gaining weight."

Capillata turned his gaze from the window back to the thick porridge in the wooden bowl. "Maybe it's because I'm growing taller." he replied while scooping the porridge.

"No, only my age will increase." The rough man raised his leather boots and carefully examined them, "and I'm not yet old enough to be that foolish." He then placed the boots on the table and made a loud noise as the hard heel hit the wood. "You know my view of the outside world," he said to the young boy in front of him through his gray eyebrows.

"'Everywhere looks the same, nothing worth seeing'?" Capillata kept his gaze fixed on the floating and sinking wheat grains and black currants.

"Yes, it's all the same danger," he said, rubbing the boy's golden hair with his rough hand and lifting his chin. "Behind those trees, there are creatures, whether human or animal, all carry things bigger than this." He held up the sharp knife in front of his aged face and spotty beard. "So how are you going to survive?"

The boy was speechless. The old man released his chin and quickly sheathed the small knife back into his belt.

"Capillata, do you remember what you promised me? If you set out at dawn, you must return before noon, because there are terrifying monsters lurking in the forest at night, and they will take away your most important thing. Do you remember what your most important thing is?"

He crossed his arms and placed them on the table, solemnly gazing at the flat chest beneath the boy's fair collarbone. Both his eyes and lips were hidden under thick facial hair.

"Perhaps you can tell me why it's so important? Is it related to mother?" Capillata trembled as he asked.

"No, I can't." the old man lowered his head and remained silent for a moment. Then he waved his hand and stood up from the bench, returning to the fireplace to continue his confession.

A few days later, on a midday afternoon, he returned to the plank roots forest and found the withered tree. The reason for the tree's withering seemed to be related to the almost hollow tree hole, but in any case, it provided Capillata with an excellent natural storage cabinet.

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He piled a few rocks under the tree, stepped on them, and stretched his arm into the trunk to retrieve the provisions he had accumulated during his previous visits. Although it was as expected, his heart still raced with excitement when he touched the rope. He pulled out the bundles of dried food tied with hemp rope from the tree hole, but slipped and fell from the mossy stone.

He hurt his buttocks in the fall, and the dried food fell on his head. He quickly covered his mouth, thinking of the monsters his father had warned him about. The towering ancient trees seemed to be covered with layers of white gauze, and it was so quiet that besides his own breathing, there were only bird calls coming from the mist and distant howls of unknown beasts.

At this point, his stomach growled. It was already noon above the forest mist. He untied the first bundle of rations, chewed a few mouthfuls, and swallowed the dry and tasteless bread with difficulty. Then he packed his bag, stood up, took a deep breath, and stepped forward - beyond this step was the unknown - continuing on his journey.

As the tree shadows gradually lengthened, Capillata's thoughts became more and more tense, as if every tree trunk hid a monster that could eat people. The sky in the forest seemed to close like doors and windows in an instant, plunging into darkness. Fortunately, he found another tree hole before nightfall.

He had not yet settled down when an unheard-of howl came from afar. In the gasping breaths of pitch darkness, he clasped his hands over his pounding heart. When the orange light made his fingertips appear blood-red, he carefully unfolded his hands - in Capillata's palm was a brilliant crystal gem.

Waves of warmth flowed into his veins as the gemstone flickered, bringing a numb sense of safety with it. Even if the divine fire could not guarantee his safety, it could give him a false sense of security, and sometimes all one needed was just an illusion.

The next morning, Capillata removed the branches covering the tree hole. As he gazed upon the misty forest, a cold wind blew into his cloak, forcing him to face the reality that he was already far from home. For the next few days, the sun never showed its face among the treetops, and the shadows of the trunks dissolved into the fog, leaving Capillata with no way to discern direction.

He never noticed the trail of breadcrumbs he had left behind, but the familiar scenery kept reappearing. The same ferns, the same mushrooms, the same rocks, only this time, the howling of unknown beasts at night grew more and more mournful. Just the night before, a creature had passed by the tree hole where Capillata was hiding, scratching the bark of the tree and causing him to cover his ears.

Perhaps his father was right, the world was an endless forest where the mist slowly consumed the weak, and only the strong could survive. Was he born just to be eaten by monsters? After eating the last piece of bread at night, Capillata curled up, looking at the fire gem in his palm. Was the truth hidden in the flame, destined for him to never decipher it?

Capillata lay there until the sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, awakening him from his half-dream state. He crawled to the tree hole, lifted the branches, and was stunned by the clarity of the tree bark patterns from a hundred steps away as if they were right in front of him. The fog seemed to have never existed, and the lush green moss, saturated with dew, emitted a fragrant scent of earth.

Capillata took a deep breath but was choked by a pungent odor. He sniffed his tunic and realized the beastly smell was emanating from his own body. He lifted his nose and continued to sniff, discovering a diamond sparkling between the branches where there was no scent.

He pushed aside the thick tree shadows and walked towards the dazzling light. The light gradually revealed its true form - something even more exciting than diamonds. Capillata had never seen so much water gathered in one place, nor did he know that water could reflect the colors of the sky. From one end to the other, it was at least a hundred steps away. This must be the vast and blue sea, he thought to himself.

Capillata took off his tunic and stepped into the icy "sea water." He bent down and scooped up a mouthful of water, then leaped into it, swam and splashed around like a otter.

He looked at his reflection in the water while combing his tangled golden hair and wiping off the dirt. The sounds he made should have scared away all the animals who came to drink, that he was startled by what he saw when he was about to climb ashore.