While the darkness of night was enveloping the Down River village as though a grave digger had filled a gave. The stars and the moon, who had served as witnesses, at what once had been, a village full of life, were now overlooking a ground of lifeless, and cold corpses.

Nonetheless, another one was ready to join, as little Levis's face was as stark pale white, as he was running madly in ragged gasps of air like a madman. If only one could see his sorry shape and face through the darkness that was wrapping him, as he was descending the mountain-like hill, from where his village was situated.

However, as he was running in the dense and crowded forest of trees, few to almost none of the light made by the stars and moon could pass, as even with most of the trees bearing very few leaves, branches and branches were crisscrossing one another, in a life and death like battle, for the little and warmless light of the night sky, as though in fear of losing the weak warmth of said light.

Yet, as the lower branches of the trees, and the abundant bushes were everywhere, bruises and cuts accumulated on the boy's body and face, as his tattered clothes were being cut, while he was running with almost no consideration in his dash.

But as he was unaware of his own physical and mental state, his mind began to descend into a state of frenzied and hectic emotions, as confusion, distress, sorrow, grief, terror and anger were constantly tormenting him, as he was getting weaker and weaker by the moment with every step he was making.

Although Levis had never been far from the world of blood, and the passing of the living, he had never witnessed such a scene of brutal and unexplained violence.

But, as his body was constantly losing his strength without him even realizing it, he continued his mad dash down the hill, and while his mind was in an almost trance-like state as he was running by instinct, the words uttered by his grandfather were echoing through his mind, though he was still in the same moment, as he was about to die.

And as he was growing weaker, the earliest remembrances of his life were beginning to play in front of him, as they took on in a disorderly sequence.

Nevertheless, his rationality was still trying to comprehend the situation he was in, the reason his grandpa, grandma, the old village chief, and all the other villagers whom he had known since he was a child, had to die. And of the hateful riders, from whom the whole nightmare had arisen.

Yet, in the midst of his confused, disoriented, and overwhelmed mind, he found himself at the base of the mountain-like hill of his village, on the road usually used by the villagers, right next to the river from whom most activities were accomplished by the village and villages in the nearby region.

But as the weak light of the moon and stars were finally able to illuminate the road, and with the sound of the fast-moving water from the river that could be heard, he began his slow and agonizing journey southwards, in between the mountainous hills, as this was the only way out, of the Border Mountains outskirts, the only name that the villagers had ever used to define their location, each time little Levis asked for information, on the outside world.

“Grandpa---. I will liv–,”

“Cough!" - "Cough!”

While he was coughing intensely and almost incessantly, he was unaware of the blood trail he had made with his very own blood, as small droplets of said blood were falling from him one by one, as though counting the time he had left in this life.

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However, as he was persisting on his slow journey, the memories of his life were organizing and moving right in front of him, through his blurry eyes, as his own unconscious self was trying to help him, with a self-adjusting and mechanized order of his most significant memories, as to regain the clear state of mind.

The first memory and the youngest one that he could recall was of the time that old Ato had told him that he was not of his blood, but the child of a dead couple at the foot of the village, a happening that had taken place almost thirteen years ago.

Of the tales, that the drunk old village chief had told him, regarding the tragic life of old Ato, as he had lost his wife in childbirth, followed by the disappearance of his son at the age of twenty-four, only to be have his remains found days later by the village hunter, a horrifying sight, as wolves or other beasts had bitten and eaten most of him, making him almost unrecognizable, and as not more than three years since the arrival of little Levis and the loss of his son, his daughter in law and his grandson, had died during a passing illness in the region, causing him the become the ever grumpy old man in the village, as he had given to him, to grandma Hel to be raised, only too, little by little, taking care alongside her.

Regarding his grandma Hel, the kind old woman that was always surrounded by strange plants, visited by all the sick, and injured people in the village. That according to the old chief, had never married, as she had always been in love with his grandpa, but had never asked him, despised being the only person to have ever put up with his grumpy, and vulgar character.

About the old Chief, that had always watched over the village with a kind gaze. Only to realize that he was the scariest of all the old people in the village, while in his moments of anger.

Though as the memories of his life in the village were playing in his mind, at his moment of extreme confusion and tiredness, his pace slowed down to that of an old man who was about to die, and yet, the little boy was moving and striding still, as though his life goal was to walk the road, until he would find something more important than his life, at the end of said road, as the wish of his grandfather was pushing him still.

"I will make y---,"

"Cough"- "Cough"

"---, proud."

"I am living grandpa, I will liv--"

"Cough!" - "Cough!" - "Cough!"

But as incomplete and low-sounding murmurers were coming out in between his loud and never-ending coughs which had stained his little mouth with his own blood, his face was becoming paler and paler, to the point of seeming to hold no blood in his little body, while his muscle began to tremble as he was becoming ever so colder, meanwhile his gaze was bizarre, as his eyes were unable to focus on the road ahead, appearing to gaze into the distance.

Step by step, which seemed to carry a dying world, as his little arms were hanging down from his shoulders, for he could no longer raise them, move them or feel them in any way.

However, the end of the hills was approaching, as the place where the river was turning east to avoid the prairie to the south was closing in. A strange occurrence as the river appeared to turn east on purpose.

But alas, the boy could be finely observed in full detail, as after a night of walking, which had been nothing more than an agonizing, and slow dragging of his dying body, the sun on the east was finely revealing himself.

Yet as his little figure could be glimpsed at, from the first rays of the morning sun in the east, that were hitting him directly, a horrifying showing and telling could be told and witnessed from the current state that the little boy was in, as an arrow was stuck his left upper chest, with the tip of it just slightly protruding out of his back, meanwhile cuts and bruises were all over his pale face, hands, and feet, while his clothes were equally tattered, ripped as patches of blood stood all over the place but the biggest one stood at his back as blood had flowed slowly from his back, as he was walking.

At this moment, his usually little figure for his age, seemed even smaller, as he gave the impression to be nothing more, than a five to four or so years-old boy, although, sick to the point that he could be misunderstood, for a walking corpse.

"I will live granp---."

But as he stood at the bend of the road, and that of the river, as though by instinct, or through the loss of power in his left foot, his body turned east just as the river did, only to walk for no more than ten steps, before falling down, while he was constantly mumbling about, in his half-dead physical and mental state.

"Aa-ha-aha-aha-ha-ha! You are indeed the one to become my guine---, Inheritor!!! Aha-aha-aha! Though what were guinea pigs again?"

"---, do it now, before this fated disciple of mine really dies---."

Ultimately, in his most responded moment, the laughter of a madman resounded from what seemed to be an eternity away, as the last of his consciousness was fading out, while nothingness and relief, were taking him into a darkness, which did not give him any pain, that life had offered him up till now.