"Neirada... Neirada, wake up! Get up!"

These faint yet desperate words echoed by the ears of the boy, drifting in the bottomless darkness. But these words had no effect on him, as his eyes remained closed and his body unmoving.

"You have to get up... I can't rely on anyone else but you... no one else can save me. Please… Nei, at least you don’t le me down." the female voice spoke again, this time with a sense of despair.

In response, the unkempt young man with a disheveled appearance slowly opened his blue eyes. Instead of the chaotic swirls resembling ocean waves, he found himself in an unfamiliar place where the first thing he experienced was pain. He immediately closed his eyes again, hoping that the small but piercing stabs he felt all over his body would soon fade away. The shivering and fear persisted until the lady's voice spoke again with a slightly calmer tone:

"I know what you're feeling. You're unfamiliar with your surroundings, you don't know what's happening around you, and you're being pricked. Of course, escaping seems like the simplest solution in such moments. But if you gather your courage and face this unknown, then..."

While she spoke, the young man felt a gentle and warm touch on his scarred, dirty, and occasionally burned face, causing him to slowly open his eyes.

"...you'll realize that what you've been so terrified of and wanted to escape from was merely a creation of your imagination." she continued, as Neirada caught sight of the straw strands that had been poking his naked body.

In the next moment, he observed his surroundings with a blushing face. Apart from being faced with the interior of a peaceful and comforting tent, he was surprised to find no trace of the stranger he had heard multiple times. He searched around the area near the goldish, hay-filled bed, specifically the table and the crate at the end, but she was nowhere to be found. Amidst the frantic search, he also noticed his own condition, realizing that besides his light brown hair grazing the base of his neck, his body was extremely thin and adorned with injuries like his face. This nearly made him retreat into his resting place again, but as he sat back down, he tried to encourage himself:

"Face the fear... it's all nonsense... face the fear... it's all nonsense..."

The woman's words, slightly altered by his own thoughts, motivated the young man to successfully get out of bed. After he walked to the table on the cold and muddy ground, he proceeded to examine the board closely, filled with books and a few brownish and grayish coins. No matter how he turned the neglected covers, he couldn't understand a single word from them, but the small pictures scattered among them captivated him more than the lines. He saw cities, forests, meadows, mountains, battles, round-bellied and armored people—each painting fascinated him. When he finished „reading" and tossed aside the last book, he finally noticed the crackling of fire and occasional sips coming from the outside of the tent. With cautious steps, the kid approached and pressed one of his eye against the opening, from where the smell of smoke mingled with the light entered inside. However, these did not disturb Neirada, who was mesmerized by the elegantly dancinc flames of the campfire and the vigorously glowing spersk that flew out from them. Among the bursts of smoke, he spotted a man sitting on one of the logs arranged around the fire and thanks tot the light, he could easily examine the guy's large forehead, small nose, sharp face, red curly hair, and friendly expression.

"Hello." the unknown figure greeted softly after closing the book in his hands and placing it beside him. "I would like to have a chat with you, so would you come out? Oh, and if possible, let's keep it quiet... you were quite loud inside the tent, and both of us would get in trouble if we wake the others." he replied, looking straight at the child.

Upon hearing the request, instead of complying, Neirada pondered for a few moments and, similar to leaving his bed, now sang his encouraging song, albeit with more different lyrics:

"Don't run away in fear... face it! Don't run away in fear... face it! Don't run away in fear, face it!"

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"What's with him? Did they beat him up so badly?" the man thought to himself as he watched the child through the tent's hole, murmuring quitly.

Afterward, the youth left his place of refuge, and as the cold night air and the warmth of the flames caressed his body, and the hundreds and thousands of stars that illuminated the dark sky dazzled his eyes, he forgot all about his worries.

"First of all, I apologize that we could only provide you with this tacky pants... we're not exactly abundant in spare clothes, and unfortunately, yours haven't dried yet," the man whispered while he walked up to the somewhat trembling child and wrapped him in a thick fur. The young man didn’t respond tot he words of the man with brown eyes, yet the concern-filled expression on his face made it easy to read that something was troubling him nad this was also noticed by the figure standing half a head taller. "Well...we have a lot to discuss, many things indeed. But let's not rush things, let's start from the beginning. What’s your name, mine is Solis." he asked, while he sat the child down to warm up.

Upon hearing the question, the kid was ready to answer immediately, but due to uncertainty, he kept it to himself. Although he had been addressed as Neirada twice before, he wasn't sure if that was truly his name. In fact, his thoughts quickly shifted from his name to who he really was, where he came from, and why he couldn't remember anything.

"I think...it’s Neirada," he replied sadly, his wide-open eyes reflecting the flickering flames.

"Hm...an unusual name. But I think I've heard this name before...Neirada...Neirada...oh, I remember! You won’t believe, but when i was with my companions in the southwestern corner of the empire, neas Musadar, we stumbled upon a group of traders. But these were not ordinary traders; they wore strange clothes. I distinctly remember one of them wearing a bucket on their head and constantly mumbling about how much he loved the Sun and wanted to find his own. Then there was another one who wore a massive suit of armor and tried to scare us by claiming it was empty and only her soul resided inside. Of course, we soon realized she was fooling around with us, and it seemed empty because she was very small!" Solis recounted with a smile and occasional laughter, successfully brightening the previously melancholic boy. "The pont is, there were two children, a boy and a girl, approximately eleven or twelve years old and if I remember correctly, they said they came from a village called Neirada.” he continued cheerfully, each word filling the child with great excitement.

"Maybe I also come from there...that's my home?" he asked enthusiastically, but upon seeing the man sitting next to him shake his head, his expression turned sour.

At that moment, the man leaned closer to the child, grabbed his shoulder, and said to him, this time with less sincerity but still aiming to console him: "Listen… what if you came with us in exchange for your rescue, wold you help us? And of course, if you work diligently and do a good job, we will take you to that village. Well, what o you think about this… does it sound good?” Those words felt like a divine blessing to the young man. His pained grimace and worries about his past vanished completely, and he was overjoyed by Solis's words. He even jumped up and started bouncing around, shouting louder and louder.

"Hey, hey...quiet down, shh!" the man interrupted, covering the overly ecstatic boy's mouth with his hand. "I see you can't contain yourself. I think it's better if you go back and rest a little more. Tomorrow we'll need this bursting energy, so save it! Now, go to sleep, you little bundle of energy," he calmed down the somewhat settled yet still fidgety Neirada, leading him to his tent in the meantime.

"Thank you for everything, Solis!" the reliefed child expressed his gratitude with a wide smile, hugging tightly the figure wearing the light long-sleeved shirt, grayish and somewhat brown pants, and shoes— that shared one common feature: their worn-out, repeatedly patched and mended state.

"You're welcome. And Neirada, please don't worry about your past. I'm certain you'll regain your memories in due time." Solis reassured him confidently, patting the back of the child who whent back to his resting place. „Oh… I almost forgot. Of course tomorrow we will continue this conversation, so in the meantime, try to recall as much as possible from your memories.”

In that moment, as the rustling straw fell silent for a few seconds, the joyful expression faded from Solis' face, replaced by a much more indifferent one. He then walked back to the campfire, picked up a note from between the pages of his book, unfolded it, and read the short yet to-the-point sentence written on the small parchment:

„Take him into your midst, raise him, and i’ll quarantee the fullfiment of your heart’s desire.

           Crimson Owl”

For countless minutes, he pondered over the blood-written word until he finally tore it apart and threw the remnants into the flames, all the while casting paranoid glances at the tents behind him and on both sides.

End of the 1. Chapter