Arthanis—or the man who now wore his face—watched the scene unfold with a quiet calm, his true thoughts buried beneath a practiced facade. The real Arthanis was gone, replaced by someone else, a stranger caught in a life not his own. Miera and Ziera, innocent in their gratitude, saw him as their protector. They didn’t know the truth. Only he—and the voice in his mind, Mire—understood the cruel twist of fate.

He glanced toward Miera, kneeling beside the wounded horse, her dark hair hanging like a curtain over her face. She was young, too young for the weight of this tragedy. Her hands trembled as she fed the horse cixonberries, the purple fruit said to have healing properties. Desperation clung to her every movement, the aftermath of the goblin ambush still fresh in her mind. Fear and sorrow were etched into her features—innocence eroded by the horrors she had witnessed.

Adjusting the carriage wheel, the imposter kept his hands busy, though his mind wandered. His gaze flickered back to Miera, watching her through the eyes of someone who needed to understand this world—and survive in it. He didn’t feel what they expected him to feel. Compassion wasn’t what drove him. He studied them like pieces in a game, calculating their usefulness, their knowledge. The real Arthanis had known these people, but to him, they were strangers. And strangers had their uses.

The faint crackle of Mire’s voice echoed in his mind. [A useful source of information, Master. You may want to ask her about the surrounding dangers.]

Miera’s hands stilled, a tremor running through her. The memory of the ambush clearly still weighed heavily on her. “We were gathering cixonberries and some medicine grass for my mother… when the goblins attacked. They shot Uncle Ofero with a poisoned arrow. We tried to escape, but the horse… it panicked, and the carriage flipped.” Her gaze flickered to Ofero, lying unconscious but breathing steadily nearby. Ziera, her younger sister, clung to his hand, her eyes full of silent hope.

Arthanis nodded, outwardly composed, though inside, there was only the cold calculation of survival. This, after all, was nothing compared to what he’d experienced before. Yet, he knew the role he had to play—kindness, concern. Just as he wore the face of Arthanis, he would wear that mask too.

The forest loomed around them, thick with trees and the earthy smell of damp soil. Shafts of light barely cut through the canopy above, casting shadows that seemed to shift with every whisper of wind. The place was foreign to him, but if he was to survive, he would need to adapt—to pretend he belonged.

“Did you see anything else? Any other creatures besides the goblins?” he asked, keeping his tone steady, though his mind was already contemplating his next steps.

Miera’s fingers gripped her dress as her voice wavered. “No… just goblins. We must’ve wandered into their territory. The kobolds usually keep to the western side of the forest.” She paused, then looked up at him with wide eyes. “But… why are you asking me? Don’t you already know about these lands?”

Her innocent question caught him off guard. For a moment, the truth almost slipped out—I’m not who you think I am. But he stopped himself. That wasn’t an option. She couldn’t know that the real Arthanis was gone.

“It’s nothing. Just being cautious,” he said, managing a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Turning away, he scanned the forest, more to avoid her gaze than out of any real concern.

The truth, as tempting as it was to reveal, would only cause problems. His survival depended on deception, on playing the part. If he could maintain this charade long enough, he could find his own way forward.

“I was just thinking about the village,” he added, following Mire’s suggestion in his head. “There have been rumors of trouble, something stirring that might affect the safety of the village.”

Miera’s face paled, her eyes widening in fear. “Because of us? Is it my fault?” Her voice cracked, and she lowered her head, gripping her fists. “I shouldn’t have gone this deep into the forest. Uncle Ofero warned me, but I just wanted to help my mother. Now he’s hurt… and you almost…”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

She didn’t finish, but the guilt was clear in her trembling voice.

Arthanis placed a hand on her shoulder, the gesture rehearsed, practiced. “You did nothing wrong. You were trying to help your family. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His words were empty, but they were what she needed to hear.

Miera’s gaze softened, her tear-filled eyes searching his for reassurance. She didn’t know the truth. He wasn’t her savior, just a stranger wearing the face of a man who had once been.

Finishing the repair on the carriage, he glanced again at Miera, who was tending to the horse. Her innocence, once unshakable, had been eroded by the attack, leaving her vulnerable, trusting in someone who didn’t deserve it. She hadn’t noticed his slip-ups, his hesitations. She believed every word, and that was enough for now.

“Mire, log this information,” he ordered silently.

[Already done, Master.]

He turned back to Miera. “The wheel’s fixed. We should move before the goblins return.”

Miera nodded quickly. “Yes, of course.”

As they prepared to leave, the voice in his head interrupted again. [Do you even know the way back to the village, Master?]

He froze momentarily. No. You don’t?

[Unfortunately, no. The original Arthanis' memories are blocked.]

He hid his concern with ease. “Miera, can you drive? My hand’s still sore from before. I’ll ride in the back with Ziera and Ofero.”

Miera didn’t hesitate. “Of course, Arthanis.”

With the carriage wheel fixed, the group prepared to leave the clearing, the weight of their recent escape still heavy in the air. Miera’s hands shook as she gathered her things, while Ziera stayed quietly by her uncle’s side.

Once everyone was ready, he climbed into the back of the carriage, positioning himself near Ziera and the unconscious Ofero. Miera took the reins, her face pale but determined. The horse, rejuvenated by the cixonberries, stirred and pulled the carriage forward with a soft jolt.

They rode in silence, the creak of the wheels and the rhythmic clop of the horse’s hooves the only sounds to fill the thick air. Arthanis kept his eyes on the passing trees, his mind running through possibilities, contingencies. He was new to this body, to this life. One wrong move could unravel everything.

His gaze drifted briefly to Miera, sitting stiffly at the front of the carriage. She had questions, doubts—he could sense it. The slip-up earlier when she asked if he didn’t already know about the goblins had been a reminder of how thin the veneer of trust was. But he had covered it, given her the answer she needed, not the truth. That was his way forward, for now.

The minutes dragged on, the forest around them darkening as the sun began its descent. Ziera, small and quiet, kept vigil over her uncle, her face etched with worry. She hadn’t spoken since they left the clearing, and the absence of her usual chatter seemed almost unnatural. It wasn’t until the carriage had covered some distance that her small voice finally broke the stillness.

“Brother Arthanis,” she said, hesitating as if unsure whether she should speak. “Uncle Ofero is making noises.”

Arthanis turned his head, his expression softening into something resembling warmth. “Watch closely,” he said, his voice calm and even. “He’s about to wake up.”

Ziera’s eyes widened in surprise as she leaned over her uncle. Sure enough, Ofero stirred, a low groan escaping his lips as his eyelids fluttered. The soft gasp from Ziera was almost drowned out by the creak of the carriage, but Arthanis caught it, allowing himself the smallest of smiles.

“How did you know?” she asked, her voice full of awe.

“Just a feeling,” he said lightly, brushing the moment off as nothing special. In truth, Mire had given him the cue, but there was no need for them to know that.

Ofero, still dazed, blinked in the fading light, his gaze shifting between Ziera and Arthanis. “Ziera? Arthanis?” he murmured, his voice weak. “You… saved us?”

Arthanis nodded, his face a mask of reassurance. “Rest now. You’ll be fine,” he said, the words automatic, though there was a cold detachment behind them.

Ofero let out a sigh, the tension draining from his body as he sank back into the carriage floor, his breathing growing steady once more.

The road ahead stretched on, and the sound of the forest slowly returned—distant bird calls, the faint rustle of undergrowth disturbed by creatures unseen. But there was something else beneath the surface, something heavier that the imposter could feel in the quiet spaces between the noises. A sense that the danger hadn’t truly passed.

As the carriage continued its slow journey through the dense woods, the man pretending to be Arthanis allowed his mind to wander. How long could he keep this charade going? How much longer before the truth became impossible to hide? For now, they believed in him, trusted him, and that was all he needed. But the illusion was fragile, and one wrong word, one slip, could unravel everything.

The wheels of the carriage creaked, marking the slow passage of time. Ziera glanced up at him again, her eyes filled with gratitude. He returned her gaze with a soft smile, the kind they expected Arthanis to wear. Inside, however, he was already planning his next move, calculating the risks, always one step ahead.