Lorin didn’t have to travel too far to find food. Different kinds of fruit grew everywhere in Arglor, some on trees and some on bushes. The closest to his village was a fruit that grew on a vine. Mixed in with the beautiful purple flowers and dangling from the vine was the fruit, purple but slightly red.

After carefully examining the vine to make sure no snakes were hiding within its green leaves, Lorin began to pick the fruit, leaving the ones that had smooth skin and taking the soft, wrinkled ones as they were ripe, unlike the smooth ones.

After taking about three, he was ready to return to his hut and eat them, but an unwelcome smell crossed his nose. A power-hungry, greedy smell. The familiar scent caused heat to rush through his body, his muscles quivering each time he sniffed.

He dropped all the fruit he was holding and tried to focus on where the stench was coming from, which was a struggle given that the sounds of the birds, which he didn’t notice before, seemed to have gotten louder.

Be quiet, he wished he could tell them.

Lorin began to walk in the direction he figured the stench originated. The path he walked to trace the smell was the same one he walked to reach the vine. His heart pounded faster and faster once he realized the possibility of it coming from his village.

Three men, two with brown hair, though visibly different ages, and one with blonde hair, along with a woman, stood near the boulder with the faces of Isin and Odar carved into it at the center of the village. The center of the village. In my village.

The smell was stronger and drove Lorin mad, his hands forming fists. It came from the woman, not the men. But whoever was associated with someone from a place overrun with evil, such as Frostland, clearly was no better than them.

All Lorin could see was blood. The blood from his people, who were defenselessly slaughtered at the hands of greedy men. The blood from the woman and the men who felt the need to pollute the atmosphere of his village with their presence would soon be spilled.

Almost within a blink of an eye, Lorin had shapeshifted into his panther and bolted toward the men and the woman, running faster than he would’ve had he stayed in his human form.

Lorin assumed they were alerted by the sound of the rapidity of his footsteps because they all turned around just as he had lunged at the woman, screams of fear and shock escaping her lips.

Just before his claws could dig into her, he was met with a bright, light blue light and a powerful, painful blow to his head, knocking him out of the air and pushing him a significant distance away from them.

Lying on the ground, Lorin could barely think. Everything he could see was blurry, and the world seemed to be spinning. He didn’t even notice he’d unintentionally changed back into his human form. Slowly, his eyes began to close, black curtains beginning to block all of what he could see.

“Are you okay?” One of the men frantically asked. Lorin assumed he was talking to the woman.

“Yes,” the woman answered. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“That thing tried to kill you,” a different man said.

They kept talking amongst each other, but Lorin couldn’t hear anymore. The black curtains not only covered his eyes now, but his ears too.

When Lorin awoke, the moon and stars were where the sun and clouds once were, each one either dimmer or brighter than the other. He could feel heat mixed with the chilled breeze of the night. He sat up slowly, still feeling slightly lightheaded, and turned his head to face the direction from which the heat was coming. To his surprise, he saw a campfire, and around stood the woman from Frostland and the man with curly blonde hair.

The man’s skin was pale and glistened slightly in the light of the fire. His lips were pink and smooth and looked soft like the petals of a pretty flower. The shininess and greenness of the man’s eyes were like the leaves of a palm tree. Lorin hated all of it.

The woman had light brown skin, similar to Lorin’s, and curly, long brown hair. But it didn’t matter what she looked like. All Lorin cared about was seeing her bleed for what her people did to his tribe.

Just staring at her was enough to bring his blood to a boil. He began to ball his hands into fists, every gust of air exhaled out of his flared nostrils being of fury. She was so close. All it would take was a few steps, and he would’ve been close enough to end her life. Lorin could feel the warmness of her blood running on his fingers. The thought of it felt wonderful. But he felt too weak to even try to attack the woman, let alone shapeshift.

It wasn’t long until Lorin realized neither the man nor the woman realized he was awake. They were too focused on their argument to acknowledge his presence. Quietly, shouted at each other, as though they were cautious of somebody listening.

“If you’re so determined to steal something,” the man began, “why are you with us?”

“Why does it matter?” the woman asked.

“Because your presence puts us all in danger,fumed.

“You think I don’t know that?” she scoffed

“Then why are you here?”

“When I find something, I’ll be out of your life,” the woman stated. “James and Aviar told us to find food. I suggest we do that before they come back with more firewood.”

“And where are we supposed-”

He suddenly stopped speaking as he and the woman had finally noticed Lorin. The man’s eyebrows raised and the woman’s eyes widened; each had a mix of shock and fear on their faces, but the woman seemed more terrified.

“Hello,” the man said shakily yet kindly. “We didn’t know you were awake.”

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

“How do you feel?” questioned the woman.

Lorin just stared at her. The more he thought about the situation, the more confused he became. After attacking her with intent to end her life, why didn’t she just kill him like her ancestors would have? Why was she being polite to him? Why were either of them being polite to him?

I’m fine, he thought, but never said. As angry as Lorin was, he didn’t want to answer her. But he started to question if his emotions were righteous. As a child, he was taught to never repay kindness with spite or cruelty. Technically, she wasn’t the one who slaughtered his tribe. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t kill him if given the chance. After all, her blood flowed from Frostland. Then again, she had a chance to kill him but didn’t take it.

“Do you know where we can find food?” the man asked.

Lorin unintentionally locked eyes with the man. It was something he avoided doing with humans since the ones he always looked at were filled with greed and hate. But he didn’t feel that when looking in his eyes. Through his anger, he felt calm, as though the woman had vanished from sight and the problem was gone.

“Follow me.” Lorin said as he slowly stood, still feeling slightly weak.

The man and the woman exchanged looks and began to follow Lorin.

“You,” he said, pointing at the man. “Not her.”

Through the darkness of the silent night, Lorin led the man to the vine he was picking fruit from before he was interrupted.

“Here,” he said. “Fruit grows here.”

“Thank you,” the man said as he began to pick some of the fruit off the vine.

Lorin was taken back by how quickly the man placed trust in him. For all he knew, Lorin could have led him to a vine that grew poisonous fruit or struck him from behind as he picked it. But the man blindly put his life in Lorin’s hands.

“Are you afraid of me?” Lorin asked him.

He looked at Lorin briefly, seemingly shocked that he even spoke. “Why would I be?”

“Because I tried to attack the woman.” Lorin answered.

“Initially, I was,” he began. “But afterward, when you turned into a human, that fear turned into curiosity.”

“Curiosity?”

“Why exactly did you try to attack her?” the man asked after grabbing enough fruit for him and the people he came with.

It was the first time Lorin had ever been asked about himself, as if anyone had ever had the chance. He didn’t know where to begin or if he should’ve. The urge to keep his reasons to himself was strong, the vault of his own mind being the only thing he trusted, but the urge to tell the man was stronger. He didn’t feel threatened by him, but he didn’t exactly trust him either.

“Humans from Frostland are responsible for what happened to my village,” Lorin stated. “All of them are the same. All of you are the same.”

“How do you know that for sure?”

Lorin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He didn’t have an answer and couldn’t find one no matter where he looked in his head. But he knew in his heart that what he was doing was right. Anyone from that wretched kingdom was no different than their fathers and grandfathers.

“Listen,” the man began. “I’m sorry about what happened to your village, but you can’t blame people who weren’t involved. I don’t particularly like Braya—the woman you attacked—but I'm quite sure she isn’t the monster you figured she was. At least, not to that extent.”

“You weren’t there,” Lorin began, his heartbeat slowly increasing in speed. “You didn’t see what Frostland did to this place. To my people.”

“Neither was she,” the man answered quickly. “You lost your family, didn’t you?” he questioned.

Lorin looked down, not wanting to answer the man’s question. He couldn’t believe he was taking the woman’s side and not his. How could he defend her?

“I understand how you feel,” the man stated. Looking back at his eyes, Lorin could feel a difference. Somewhere in his heart he was hurting but didn’t want to admit it. “I lost someone close to me as well,” he continued. “But you can’t blame the world, or a specific person or group of people, for someone else’s actions.”

His words cut deep into Lorin. He was angry, or, at least, he wanted to be.

“What’s your name?” asked Lorin.

“Alaris,” the man answered. “Alaris Andithier. And yours?”

“Lorin.”

Alaris smiled and began walking back to the village. “We’ll be out of here tomorrow,” he said as he walked past Lorin. "But if you’re coming with us, I recommend staying away from James for a bit.”

“Why would I go with you?” Lorin questioned.

“Perhaps you should ask yourself that.”

Perhaps you should ask yourself that.

What could that have possibly meant? It wasn’t like Lorin wanted to go with them to wherever they were going. Given what her people had done to him, he couldn't bear to be around Braya even if Alaris was there. If the world was ending and the only two choices were to go with them or to stay in his village, Lorin would’ve chosen to stay. Nothing could convince him to be around them, and he wanted them gone just as quickly as they came.

But you can’t blame the world, or a specific person or group of people, for someone else’s actions.

Those words stuck to Lorin like an ant in tree sap. Every attempt he made to justify his actions was met with that phrase without fail.

Maybe they’re different, Lorin thought, thinking strongly of going back to his village. But he would not. Could not. The mere thought of willingly being around a human from Frostland felt like unforgivable betrayal to his tribe. Maybe they aren’t like the other ones.

Lorin sat down on the ground, his head and back resting against a tree. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on himself and the present, as that was the only way to see them. To see his ancestors. Slowly, he inhaled and exhaled, relaxing both his body and his mind. The world around him quickly became oblivious; his mind became it.

I need you.

Before Lorin were multiple, large, bright, white figures, each one emitting a heavenly light as bright as the sun. He couldn’t see their faces, nor could he distinguish their sexes; he could only perceive the shapes of their bodies. Some were more curvy and hippy, and others were more bulky with broader shoulders.

“His words are of wisdom, child,” stated a feminine voice. Each time any of the figures spoke, their voices echoed.

Lorin always questioned how the ancestors knew why he needed them without ever speaking the reason aloud. Maybe they could see inside his mind. Or maybe they felt what he felt. Perhaps he was their last vessel into the physical world. It was a lifelong question of his that more than likely would never be answered.

“But what if he’s wrong?” Lorin questioned. “What if Braya is just as horrible as everyone else?”

“Sometimes it is best to take the words of others as truth rather than accept the lies our mind tells us. Especially when said mind is angry,” a more deeper voice said. “Your emotions toward Frostland are justified. But your actions are not and never will be.”

“What about him?” Lorin asked. “I’m sure he isn’t as good as he makes himself seem.”

“It’s obvious your mind has a louder voice than your heart. Such a way of living will only restrict you from what life has planned for you,” another feminine voice stated.

“What does that have to do with my question?” asked Lorin.

“You know what, child.”