Jutan dropped his jaw at the very sentence, and a haunting despair slowly took over him as an impossible choice was presented to him.

“…What?”

Agan grimaced, thinking to himself in his head, ‘This…this is too much! He’s asking Jutan to either sacrifice himself for his child, or sacrifice his child’s life for his!’

Agan’s fists crumpled up into boulders, but his face remained emotionless. Despite this, it was easy to see the inner turmoil that lay inside him. The village chief said nothing about it, however, only focusing on the murderer.

“What will it be?” The chief asked Jutan, the atmosphere surrounding the bonfire turning dangerously cold. “In the first place, this was all caused by that cursed child. You should have killed him when your wife died…” Jutan’s face darkened, and his eyes sparked red for a short moment; however, even though they sparked, they did not have the fuel to sustain their fire. Jutan grunted in pain.

The village chief pressured him even further.

“If you don’t choose either option, I will assume you want both, Jutan.”

In response to the peer pressure, Jutan’s eyes shook. Everyone waited for his decision, including Agan.

‘Jutan…what will you do?’ The man thought inside his head, the chair he sat on becoming uncomfortable.

His brother spoke, but he clearly wasn’t prepared at all in his response.

“I…How can you expect me to–to choose something like this!? At–at least give me some time to think, Village Chief!”

“Do not speak to me in that tone.”

Instantly, everybody stiffened, including the chief’s child and Agan himself. As the chief impatiently waited for the man’s decision, his cane’s taps on the ground perfectly resembled the mechanical ticking of a clock, turning with every second.

Impatiently, the old man clicked his tongue, and Jutan’s time was running out. The village chief put his right leg over his left knee, and with a final clack of his cane, the sky seemed to grow dimmer. It was well after dawn, yet the sun’s light seemed to be blocked by someone.

“I’m growing tired, Jutan. Hurry up with your decision…” A sharp light shone inside the chief’s eyes. “You’re scaring the children with that expression of yours.”

Jutan’s eyes darted around the crowd, but after his words, he tried calming himself down. Of course, the man failed. Agan felt even more pity for his brother. There was no way for Jutan to choose this decision.

‘...He wants to live, but there’s no way he could sacrifice his only child…fuck!’

Finally, the chief sighed. His patience reached his limits, and to Jutan, he said, “We’re all growing bored here. Since you cannot decide…I will have to choose both for you–”

“NO! I–Just give me a bit more time–”

“Five.”

Agan’s eyes saw Jutan’s aura clearly. His brother was frightened, and everything about his aura resembled a beast’s will to live…and a mother’s wish to protect her child. There were two opposing sides conflicting inside of him, and both of them were equal in strength. The village chief counted down.

“Your time is running out, Jutan. Four.”

“I…I…”

“Three.”

Everyone surrounding the four villagers waited expectantly for Jutan’s answer as Agan bitterly thought inside his head, ‘...Damn it, Jutan. Just sacrifice your child…you can always have another. Jaffy isn’t even old enough to be called a boy yet…’

The clock was ticking, the cane was clacking, and beads of sweat were dropping.

“Two seconds, Jutan. I’m giving you two seconds.”

In response, Jutan looked down, gritting his teeth. Agan knew he would do the same in a situation like this. The village chief’s aura wasn’t projecting; the pressure from him came solely from his words. Agan used to marvel at the ability, but now…

He wasn’t so sure if he should.

Jutan’s timer was about to hit zero, and the village chief looked at the man with what appeared to be a look of shame…on how someone like this could live in his village.

“One.”

‘Jutan! You have to decide—there’s no other choice!’ Agan thought to himself fervently, wishing to shout his mind out. Of course, the chief would stop him if he did, so it was useless for him to.

“Ze—“

“I’LL GO! FUCK, I’LL GO, DAMN IT!” Jutan stood up instantly with full force from his arms, his chest heaving at the pressured action. “Just…JUST LEAVE MY SON ALONE!”

Several of the villagers audibly tsked, including the village chief. His face darkened at Jutan’s interruption, but he didn’t go crazy about it. Agan’s face was saddened.

‘So this is the path you choose…’ Agan thought to himself. Then, an idea struck his head as the village chief started speaking. He waited patiently for him to be done.

“…Very well. You all heard him! Let the gods be our witness! Jutan, second-born son of Ministra, will go to the Land of No Return for one season!” The village chief looked around. “Does anyone have any questions?”

Agan hesitated, but he tapped his chair’s armrest in preparation to ask the question he had been waiting to ask.

“Village Chief,” Agan asked, “Can you let me go with him?”

…The audience fell dead silent. The village chief himself had his menacing aura taken back, looking at the man with wide eyes. Even his heir, taught to be stern and cold, had a dropped jaw. It was an unbelievable occurrence; after all, who in their right mind would want to go to a land where nobody but one has come back alive?

Some of the previous warrior leaders of the village had never returned from it, and all of them were confident in their strength. Only one of them returned, and even then, he was rendered disabled both mentally and physically. Even the village chief, who was one of the strongest out of all of them, was not confident in escaping its clutches should he ever go there. Yet, Agan dared to do so.

“He is my brother,” Agan said, answering the question everyone had inside their minds. “...I cannot leave him to go out on such a journey, even if he is a murderer.”

At his heartwarming words, Jutan nearly started crying, but as his eyes watered he blinked them away. He sat down gratefully, and as Agan expected a bad reaction from the villagers, they started cheering–a complete contrast to his thoughts.

“...How merciful. The Warrior Leader…is so merciful!”

“Long live the noble Warrior Leader!”

“As expected of the Warrior Leader! He really is the greatest in both body and soul! To think he’d even spare a murderer…!”

As the rest of the villagers kept shouting out the title Agan had in a positive light, the old village chief leaned back in his chair with a smirk while looking towards the man on his right. “...So this is what you were going for, huh? Impressive, but ruthless.”

Agan looked back at him, asking the old man in visible confusion, “...What are you talking about, Village Chief?” In response, the village chief chuckled, whispering to him in the midst of the crowd of excitement.

“You don’t have to hide it from me, Warrior Leader.” The old man grinned. “I’ll have to thank you for this one. Just look at that murderer’s face.”

Agan bit back an insult at hearing the specified M word, but he listened to him anyway. With an ominous turn, he looked to see the face of his brother…

…and did not expect to see a betrayed look on him.

Jutan started laughing softly to himself, but the crowd was too loud for many to hear even a single thing from him. “...So much for brotherhood.” He muttered to himself. Agan barely managed to catch it with his ears, and he didn’t understand why Jutan acted like that. The warrior leader felt indignant, but he didn’t say anything about it.

The village chief’s voice then woke him from his feelings, and Agan listened intently. It was quite clear that Jutan was not, however, still most likely wallowing in the realization he was all alone, and that soon…

…Jaffy would be as well.

“...Alright then, Warrior Leader. You won’t have the same restrictions he has, so you can come back anytime you want–but are you really sure with this decision?”

With his emotions still not showing, Agan spoke in a clear concise tone, saying, “Of course. I know it would be better for me to stay here, but I know especially that I will regret it if I don’t come alone with him.”

The village cheered again, and Jutan’s face darkened. He spoke silently, constantly mouthing the lip sync for “liar” over and over. As the villagers' cheering dwindled down over time, the village chief stomped his cane on the ground once more, and everyone paid close attention to what he would say next.

“...Alright then! Warrior Leader Agan will escort Jutan to the Land of No Return, who will stay there for a season.” The village chief was far less tense than before, and near everyone nodded. “Does anyone have any more questions?”

Nobody raised their hands or nodded, so in a minute, the village chief embedded his cane onto the ground, setting a large noise that waved through most of the people.

“...Very well. EVERYONE, GET BACK TO WHAT YOU WERE DOING! This event is now over.”

At the chief’s command, everyone went back to the things they were doing prior, whether that be sleeping, cleaning, or praying. Only a few remained, including Agan and his brother. The village chief smirked at the two once more, telling his heir to be like the warrior leader, but not without blatantly insulting the murderer as they walked together.

Agan and Jutan stood together at opposite sides in silence, the chairs of the previous event now gone. The first one to break the silence was the older brother.

“...So. Brother–”

“Do not call me that.”

Jutan’s fists balled, and the other man looked at him in confusion. His response was full of bitterness, and something dark grasped his aura for but a single moment. That thing wasn’t able to escape Agan’s eyes, however.

Agan sighed, and he awkwardly walked away, but not before saying something.

“....Okay, then. Just…tell me when you’re ready to go tomorrow, Jutan.”

He didn’t look back for a response, and the other man stayed silent. With an odd sense of danger at seeing that black thing touch his younger brother, Agan’s eyes darkened, and he prepared himself for the following day…

-O-O-O-

“I see. I can only imagine how shocked and upset you must have felt at how everything was unfolding. It sounds like it was a very traumatic time, having all these awful things happen to your family and your community.” The doctor said, not knowing the full extent of his memories.

The man himself was buried in the past, his emotions fluctuating as he remembered clearly his brother’s expressions and aura. He didn’t understand it back then, but he knew why he acted the way he did now.

It was a misunderstanding that wouldn’t have been formed had the “trial” been conducted alone. Agan’s eyes blinked, and he finally responded back.

“It wasn’t too bad for me, but…” He groaned at his mistake back then. “My brother…he must have felt like some kind of outcast. And, by complete accident, I made him feel that way even further…”

With a concerned voice, the doctor had to ask him, “How did you get through these events? Was there anything in particular that helped you make it to where you are now?” She leaned forward from her chair, and Agan took a bit of time to think up of a response to her.

After a minute or two, he had finally come up with a conclusion inside his head.

“...I didn’t, now that I think about it. Not back then.” Agan turned his head downwards, and his hands seemed to hold an invisible sword, with his right on the handle. “I didn’t allow myself to. My pride wouldn’t let me. I did my best not to care, because otherwise I would do something unbefitting of a leader.” His eyes closed.

“...Well, I stopped caring about that later anyway.” Agan said, his words coming to a close. The doctor looked at him with sympathy, her aura being its same steeled one.

“I can completely understand that reaction–it sounds like you were really trying to hold yourself together and be strong.” The doctor locked her hands together, and with a worried curiosity, she asked, “What was it that changed that? How did you come to realize that caring was okay again?”

Agan’s head lowered, and for a moment, he shivered. In mere moments after however, the man held back his emotions. It was clear to the doctor that this was a major event in his life, especially since he had such a strong reaction. Agan grunted, and sighed to himself.

“...Well, I thought I was fine with it now, but…it seems like this still affects me,” Agan said, a tremor in his voice. “Sorry. Give me a moment…”

The psychologist dispelled his worries, saying, “Please, take all the time you need. If you’d like some space to think, I completely understand. Just let me know when you’d like to continue, or if there’s anything I can do to help while you think. I’m here to listen and talk if you want to.” Her voice calmed the man down.

A few minutes passed, and Agan’s tense silence grew less stressed over time.

“...Thank you.” The man sat up straighter, and his eyes seemed more focused. “It’s just–everything I’ve been talking about up until now have mainly been about my brother. This, however…” He gazed at the ceiling, as if searching for answers. “This is where it starts getting personal.”

“It can be much harder to talk about personal things.” The doctor said, her aura speaking the same truth she was. “We all have a tendency to be more shy, more reserved, or even maybe a little bit embarrassed about admitting some of our thoughts and feelings. That's absolutely normal, Agan.”

The man nodded. “Yes…well, it’s not that it’s embarrassing or anything. To be honest, I don’t know what emotion I feel when I think about it. It’s the same one I had back then with Jutan…” Agan’s eyes grew weary.

“Would you be comfortable with trying to describe your feelings for me?” The doctor asked. “It can sometimes be difficult to understand our own emotions, but talking through them can often help us to make sense of what we're actually feeling.”

Doctor Jones knew that for sure. She continued speaking, the words coming out of her mouth with clarity. Agan respected that ability.

“If you're not sure what you're feeling, even being honest and saying that it's difficult to label or understand the emotions could be helpful in this case, and it could be a good way to start learning about your thoughts and feelings–it's all up to you though, if you want to try.”

The man sighed, but he was willing. “...Sure thing, doctor. Just...before I explain why I felt this way, or why I feel it, I need to tell you what caused it in the first place.”

“Okay, go ahead. Share with me what happened.” She answered with care. “What were the events that affected you personally, rather than your brother?”

The man exhaled, preparing his words. “...So. My brother, when he was punished with the punishment of going to the Land of No Return, I...volunteered to go along with him.” His hands shook, but he stopped them. “How could I not? He was my brother, after all. So, while I prepared for the journey, my brother was given nothing but a sword and ragged clothing. It was when we were there, on that land…”

The man closed his eyes, trying his best to not remember it.

“...I believe that was the first time I felt this emotion.”

-O-O-O-

Inside the village, Agan lay inside his home, with a sword on his back and bags filled with food strapped to the man’s waist. Mala, the poor woman, cried to her husband in sadness.

“Agan, please–do you really have to go!?”

Her husband looked at her with a grim face, and he nodded. “...Yes. He is my brother, Mala. I’m…I’m sorry for doing this to you.”

She bit her bottom lip in frustration, and her tears bled out from her eyes.

“You…you!” The top of his shirt was grabbed with her two hands in anger, but the woman’s strength deflated. “How can you…how can you do this to me…” She hugged Agan, her tears staining the shirt and reaching his heart, both literally and metaphorically.

In response, Agan hugged her suddenly. His wife wasn’t embarrassed or angered–only saddened by the action. She hugged him back, although hesitantly.

“...I’ll still take care of your brother’s child, just–please, Agan, come back…!”

Both her body and voice shuddered, and the man felt an emotion he had never felt before. Agan reassured Mala.

“...Don’t worry, Mala…” He hesitated in saying his next words. “I’ll come back…I’ll come back just for you.”

The two hugged tighter, and then someone knocked on the door quite loudly. An old, rough voice called out, shouting, “Warrior Leader! Are ya coming or not!?” Outside, a cane’s beating on the ground could be heard.

Agan recognized the village chief’s voice, and he turned his head, his arms still hugging his wife. “Yes! I’m still coming!” He turned his head again to his no longer sobbing wife, and spoke to her.

“...It seems I must go now. Mala, if I don’t come back in a season–” Her eyes nearly started bawling at the very words. “Please…”

Agan smiled bitterly at her, and he tried his best to beam a happy aura towards her. As he did so, the same unknown feeling from before grew stronger.

“Find another man–one who is better than me.”

Then, as Mala accepted his words, Agan left his house…

-O-

The village chief walked alongside the two brothers inside the village. With a very noticeable annoyance staining his voice, he asked the older brother, “What in the world took you so long?”

Agan answered hesitantly. “My wife. She was worried about me, Village Chief.”

The village chief nodded in understanding, commenting on it. Jutan didn’t take his words well, though, face growing pained as Agan spoke about his wife.

“...Well, that makes sense then.” The village chief commented.

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The group of three finally made it out to the gates of the village, and with his cane, he pointed to a direction. As the two of them turned to look, there were the plains of forest they had known throughout all of their lives–only this time, there was a small path marked with X’s crossed out on trees forming a trail that led to the Land of No Return. Nobody in the village ever went out this way, as the gates here were usually closed for fear of what lurked over in that direction.

The journey was one that would take days, but Agan had steeled himself for the trip. Of course however, as Jutan was unable to prepare, the man had a drop of sweat form on his back. His ragged clothing stuck to him, and his only weapon was a slightly dull sword.

“Before you go there with him, Agan, I need to tell you something,” The village chief said in the tense silence. Agan looked at him with a questioning face, and Jutan waited impatiently.

The old man brought Jutan further away from Agan, and then, the chief spoke to him. “Listen to me, Agan…I don’t care what it is you do in there, but I need you to come back alive. Nobody in the village is as good of a warrior as you–and my power is only to be used against other humans. Therefore, listen closely…”

Suddenly, the village chief leaned in, his voice filled with extreme caution. This was a tone Agan had never heard from the man before, and he listened carefully.

The old man whispered to him with a serious expression, and for some reason, Agan’s skin felt cold. He felt an unprecedented danger.

“Beware the white-skinned beast, Warrior Leader.”

“What do you–”

“ANYWAYS!” The old man shifted the topic with haste, and he spoke loud and clear. “Just make sure you come back alive! You two can go on, now. Good luck, and return safely!”

“Hold on, Village Chief–”

The old man patted Agan’s back with an overwhelming force, smiling at him.

“Now, now, you two should go along now,” He said, walking away with a face far too happy for one sending two people off on a fatal journey. Agan looked at his back with a perplexed expression, and he turned back to his brother. He gulped and hoped Jutan didn’t notice his fear. Then, together, the two started to walk in silence…

-O-

Step by step, the two of them continued on the path. Somewhere along the way, the forest had grown thicker, and an unsettling fog seemed to always cloud the sky. The sun’s light barely passed through the barren trees, and the grass was muddy.

Most unsettling of all was the lack of life. Not even a single insect was seen, and the chirping of birds was nonexistent. They were the only two beings there.

“...Agan.”

The man whose name was called out hummed as to signal a “What?” to the other person. Jutan continued his line of words.

“Why did you actually come with me this far? You could have just left when…” He waved at the surroundings. “This started to appear.”

Agan looked at him as if he was a moron, “Isn’t that obvious?”

Jutan stared back at him with weariness, his face radiating his blatant confusion.

“...Well, since it isn’t obvious, I’ll tell you. There is no second meaning, Jutan...I can’t leave you to die out here just like that–you’re my brother, for fuck’s sake!”

Jutan’s aura flickered for a short moment, and Agan could swear he saw something dark leaving it. His brother stopped staring at him, turning his head with shaken eyes. It took him a minute, but he finally spoke back to Agan…

“...Thank you. That’s…that’s all I needed to know.”

From then on, their relationship seemed to be mended, and they continued walking for an hour…

-O-

“Brother.”

“What is it this time, Jutan?”

Jutan stared at his brother’s eyes for a few seconds, squinting at them as if it would make them appear clearer. He commented on them.

“Your eyes…” The man raised an eyebrow. “...were they always so gray?”

Agan stopped walking, and he also questioned Jutan with his eyes. “What are you talking about? My eyes are brown, not that dusty-old color.”

“...Something is wrong, then.” Jutan said, growing worried.

The atmosphere of the land did nothing to help them, and the foggy sunlight had only grown dimmer the further they went into the forest. It was a creepy place, and the number of trees grew less and less. Their steps made marks on the path with caution, and the duo had only grown more careful as time went on.

Agan didn’t mind the worry Jutan had, but he didn’t care much for it. He could still sense the man’s aura–mind you, nothing else however–so he didn’t feel too pressured.

His brother’s presence was enough comfort for him here.

“...Hm!? Jutan, look here!”

Agan’s tone startled his brother, who immediately looked in Agan’s direction. There were tracks all over the place, as if a group had passed by; however, such a thing would have been impossible.

The last time a group of people had ever gone here was before he was even born. The two brothers’ skins felt chilly, and the air felt more dangerous.

Therefore, it could only mean one thing.

Something was here with them.

-O-

“Jutan…I’m sorry.”

Both of them were sweating, even though they had only been walking for the past few hours. Now it was Jutan’s turn to look at Agan as if he were a moron.

“...What are you even sorry about?”

Agan chuckled, but his humor quickly faded away under the pressure of the air. “A lot of things, actually. I…” The man covered his eyes. “...I should have kept an eye on you back then–I would have been able to stop you, and–”

“No, no, no. Stop that, Agan.” Jutan sighed, and he waved his brother’s concerns away. “It wasn’t your fault…it was mine. Something took control of me back then, and because of that, I was punished.”

“But, still…” Agan’s expression had a bitter taste to it.

“No. It’s fine, Agan.” He sighed. “Just…leave it be.”

The two walked in silence once more. Somehow, the land grew even more dreary, despite the fog lessening. There were no longer any blades of grass, and they hadn’t encountered any signs of life besides the dried up wooden trees that only appeared occasionally now, with the trees having long distances between each other.

Then, Agan stopped dead still for a moment. With caution, he immediately took out his sword, and as Jutan noticed this action, he grew worried and gripped the sword in his hand tighter. He had no sheath to close it in, so he had to carry it the entire time.

The man had seen another aura with his eyes. One that wasn’t Jutan’s.

The fog made it harder to see, but as Agan looked carefully at his surroundings, he started to notice things. Objects out of place. Things that shouldn’t have been there, yet did. There was still no life, but there were most certainly rocks, mud, and now…

…there were corpses.

“...Hey, Jutan. Did you…not notice any of these bodies around us?”

His brother shook his head, and he didn’t speak for fear something would hear them. The silence grew tenser on their bodies, and the stress of the situation reached an even higher peak.

‘Why aren’t there any skeletons?’ Agan thought to himself, this unknown emotion to him leaking inside his head. ‘Why haven’t these bodies rotted yet!?’

The man could only bear to look at their helpless bodies for seconds. All of their arms stretched out as if grasping for hope, and the light in their eyes were long gone. None of them were skeletons; at best, they were only part-skeleton.

Agan looked back to the other aura. Luckily, the fog had lessened to the point where the duo could see about ten adult steps ahead of them–though, that wasn’t the greatest thing.

“...Is that a child crying?” Jutan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Agan didn’t answer the question. With caution and a raised blade, he slowly moved forward. The crunch of his foot hitting the ground with every step was the only noise in the eerie silence.

One second, and one step. Two seconds, and two steps.

The aura grew bigger as he got closer, and then the corpses stopped appearing.

As the two walked, their steps growing slower and slower, their instincts told them to flee by any means…

“...Are you fucking kidding me?”

…that is, until they saw the pitiful white-skinned being that laid on the ground at the very edge of their vision. Agan nearly had a vein pop from his head.

“I thought it was some kind of dangerous beast…it’s just a small animal.” Agan said, his words from earlier echoing in the distance. Though he said it looked like a small animal, it more or so felt like a combination between a great beast and a young human child. Jutan’s weapon-holding hand lessened its grip, and Agan also let down his guard.

With fear, its fully black-dyed eyes stared back. It scampered away, and Agan followed, ready to strike. Its aura didn’t show any signs of strength, and he commanded his brother quietly.

“Come! It’s getting away!” Agan said, his voice echoing throughout the land. His brother followed, and Agan used his strength to run towards it. He no longer felt any danger–something this weak could never harm him.

“Brother, wait–”

Agan skirred onto the ground stopping his feet, and he looked back with a small annoyance. “What is it!?”

Jutan pulled him back, his face full of fear. “Didn’t you see it! Agan, we have to go NOW! FUCK!”

“Have you gone mad, Jutan?! There’s nothing but that thing there!” Agan shouted back, ripping the man’s grip off his wrist. In turn, Jutan grew even more stressed, and his aura flickered rapidly.

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER! WE GOTTA MOVE!”

“NO,” Agan shouted back. “WE DON’T! WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH–”

-O-O-O-

The man waited for the doctor to speak. She took the opportunity.

“Can you elaborate on what the Land of No Return was like? Why was it difficult or dangerous to go there?” The doctor noticed his fidgeting as he remembered the past. “Was it a particularly harsh environment? Or were there special rules and customs that made it different to any other place? What was it about that place that made it so special?”

“Hah...of course there were dangers. Well, I was accompanying my punished brother, so it wasn't too bad, but...okay, look. I was the Warrior Leader at that time–not to brag, but at this time, there was nothing that really scared me except the Village Chief. However, what resided in that land…” Agan shook, but not for long. “...It was the first time I had ever ran away from a fight. Ever. Don't even get me started on the--the groups of human corpses being the only signs of "life", and the–”

Agan grew an all too familiar emotion, and he became angry at his past’s shortcomings.

“THAT FUCKING THING! WHATEVER IT WAS! I DON'T KNOW, BUT–” A noticeable pain filled the man’s chest. The doctor grimaced. “I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO THEM! TO THEIR WARNINGS! BECAUSE THEN–”

The man’s hands went crazed at his outburst, but he managed to restrain himself. As he breathed in and out with haste, he slowed down his emotions. The doctor gave him a few minutes to calm himself from the stress. She could sympathize.

-O-O-O-

Agan looked back, and the aura of the beast was gone. Only the absence of color was in its place, and the man’s shock stilled him onto the ground. He kept staring with a wide, open jaw.

“…How can this…be?”

Agan’s eyes were overheating, but he kept staring at IT anyway. The man started to remember all the kinds of auras he had seen in his life—they were all mainly white or gray, so he learned with time that the shape of the aura mattered most. He also understood that the size also represented the level of danger, and the purity was also an additional factor. Comparisons wrought out in his mind, and he thought of the strongest one he had ever seen and compared it to that. An impossible result. He denied the result. The reason why all of this was going on in his mind right now, however, was because…

“AGAN!” Jutan screamed at him, begging to be heard. “HURRY!”

…never, ever in his life…

“...How…HOW?!”

…had Agan seen an aura so impossibly black, nor one that could fill his vision entirely.

S̷̩̔T̴͇͑A̶̩͂Y̵̬͠ ̵̹̈S̶͍͌T̵̳̓Í̵͜L̴̨͘L̴̖͋

It aimed at him.

“AGAN. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!? JUST RUN!”

Jutan pushed him away from Ṡ̸̭O̷̜̕Ṁ̸̜E̵̪̐T̵͎̄H̶̼̀I̷͖̾N̵͍̄G̸̲̑ with adrenaline scouring through his veins. Jutan fell to the ground, and immediately without looking back, Agan dropped his sword in fear, and for the very first time in his life he ran. He ran without care for the consequences. His mind blurred, and he used every single bit of his strength to flee.

The man shook his head as if to take his thoughts away and focus. Agan finally zoned back in, and while his mind settled in, another more instinctive than rational emotion came in: panic.

An unknown enemy with far greater strength than they had. They should have ran the moment IT entered their sight. Whatever that thing was, it must have been playing with them—unless it harbored some kind of slowness, there was no way they could have lived for more than five seconds.

Agan shivered at the very thought. It wasn’t called the Land of No Return because of the land itself…it was because of that MONSTER!

‘No wonder only one Warrior Leader came out alive from here!’ Agan thought, sweat pouring out of his skin like faucets. ‘There is no possible way they could have survived that THING! That fucker is more powerful than our village combined!’

The fog grew even more dreary, and the tracks of the past became harder to see. That didn’t matter at all though–he kept running either way. It didn’t matter where he went, only actually getting to where he wanted to go did. His eyes still burned from the previous sight.

The man looked back, and then…

“AGHHHH! FUCK!”

His left eye couldn’t bear the pressure—it was like looking at the sun, only worse. Luckily, he didn’t look at IT with both eyes. Agan clutched his left eye, and he stopped for a moment in pain. However, as he felt whatever that thing was coming closer, he didn’t even need to use his eyes to know he had to keep running. His left eye bled tears of blood and pain, but he kept running away either way.

Not like he had a choice.

His chest heaved, and he kept running. His left hand stayed on his left eye, and his vision was clouded.

“AGAN!”

Agan didn’t turn his head back at his brother’s voice in the distance behind him, focusing on the run.

“AGAN–PLEASE! HELP MEEE!”

He didn’t look back.

“I’M SORRY FOR WHATEVER I DID! I’M–AUGHHHHHHHH!”

He wouldn’t look back.

As Agan kept running, his brother kept screaming in agony, but the man ignored it. He had faith in his brother’s strength—he wouldn’t possibly fall to that with ITS slow speed. To Agan, those screams…were nothing but illusions.

He didn’t look back.

‘He’ll make it on his own.’

He wanted to look back.

‘...I should have listened to the village chief. To Jutan.’

The man remembered the village chief’s words. To beware the white-skinned beast. Agan remembered Jutan’s words. His warnings echoed inside his heart. The man felt a weight above his soul, as if it was judging him. It was the first time he had ever felt an emotion like this.

Agan’s left eye burned harder, but as if some kind of unknown god helped him, a purple light wrapped it softly. It healed, but imperfectly. The man didn’t say anything about it, only focusing on his steps. His lungs started to feel hot, and his breath felt frozen.

He still felt danger behind him, even though he didn’t look back. The very fact made Agan run harder, despite his tired legs and injured eye. He ignored the pain in his legs and lungs for a bit longer, and the fog started to lessen.

The trees started reappearing.

The man could still hear something chasing after him, but he was starting to grow tired. He had been running for what seemed like hours, and Agan had never ran for this long. He started to slow down, grasping at his chest. His body couldn’t keep up.

Ď̴̼O̶̲͐N̶̫̽'̸͔̎Ṯ̵̕ ̵͉̚Ṟ̴̌Ú̴̹N̶̛̼

Don’t listen to its voice, Agan.

Though it was painful, he listened to the soothing voice. His lungs felt a little less charred, and he could see a purple-lit trail. Grass started to appear, and hope grew inside Agan’s eye. The overwhelming black seemed to stop flooding his vision, and the fog was no more after a minute.

Finally, he looked back, and…

…the man didn’t see a single thing but normalcy. Then, as the panic exited his body, something else settled straight in, replacing the feeling. He denied its existence, however.

“...Jutan’s okay. He’ll be okay.” Agan said to himself, fidgeting with the bags on his waist. He was still breathing hard, but now he had a chance to rest, he sat down.

The trees seemed greener than they did when he first walked here with him.

As Agan waited, he ate some of the fruit Mala had prepared for him. He had confidence in his brother’s strength, especially because he had fought together with him several times when hunting. If he was able to escape, then surely Jutan would be able to as well.

Right?

‘...Why isn’t Jutan here yet?’ Agan wondered, looking at his now empty waist-bags. ‘No…no, he’s probably somewhere else right now. He has to be.’

Agan’s shirt started to stick to his back. His hands became more active, and he got up from where he sat. He walked around the place, still waiting for him. Minutes passed. Something was wrong.

As Agan had regained his breath, the man–albeit cautiously–decided to walk back to the Land of No Return. He needed to find out what happened to his brother.

-O-

The fog gradually returned as he walked, and this time, he was far more wary of the land’s danger. The signs of life had all but disappeared except him, but he didn’t care. The man returned to being the Warrior Leader. This time, he was prepared. His honed senses no longer underestimated the land, and his eyes slowly returned to their original brown color. He had regained clarity, and the land no longer felt as dangerous as it was before; he was still cautious, however.

‘If I was able to run from it before…I should be able to run from it again.’

Every step was filled with the confidence of the village’s greatest warrior.

Agan wondered to himself, ‘Where could my brother be?’, and he strained his eyes in the fog to find Jutan.

Then, as dusk fell, Agan noticed something. He wouldn’t have been able to see it if it wasn’t for his aura-seeing eyes, but his right eye barely managed to see it. A piece of cloth filled with that unique aura of his brother’s, and a very dim trail that formed by it.

Agan smiled, but it dwindled down as he thought of the complications.

‘...He’s still here, then.’ Agan thought to himself, hands itching for a weapon. ‘That doesn’t mean he’s safe, though.’

Sweat etched down the back of his neck, and his hair felt cold. He followed the trail of aura, however dim it was. He didn’t have high hopes.

Ten steps forward. Agan looked around, but there was nothing.

Thirty steps. There was another piece of cloth on the ground. Agan kept going.

Twenty more steps. A bigger piece of cloth.

‘The trail is getting dimmer.’ Agan thought to himself in worry. ‘I need to hurry.’

He sped up his walking into running, going fifty steps in seconds. This time, a noticeable part of Jutan’s sleeve, and…drops of blood.

Agan noticeably shook at the sight, but he pressed forward either way.

“It’s probably just a small injury.” Agan said to himself, denying a thought that was starting to form inside his head. He didn’t want to think about it, so he mindlessly followed the trail. “He should be fine...”

The longer he walked, the higher his worries became.

This time, it wasn’t just blood. A boot had been torn apart, and a very, very noticeable trail of blood stained the aura trail.

“...There’s no way a child could be out here.”

With eyes widening, both the blind and working one, Agan realized the very words he spoke. He tried unsheathing his weapon, but it was useless–he dropped it when he first ran from that monster.

K̴̩̚Ę̸͝E̶̙̔P̴̫̀ ̷̛̩G̶̳̊O̷͉̿İ̷͖Ņ̸̀G̴̳̔

Agan forced himself to stay still, and then, with caution, he picked up Jutan’s torn boot…and immediately ran. He could have stayed and gone forward, but something told him it was a trap. A deliberate act of bait. The very thought made Agan’s skin crawl, because no beast had this intelligence. This…this was a monster.

It didn’t make sense, now that he thought had about it.

Agan’s sleeves stuck to his arms, and the soles of his feet kept running; however, never at top speed. He asked himself in his mind as he berated himself, ‘...What the fuck was I thinking? Nobody ever runs in a straight line like that when they’re getting chased.’

He broke into a cold sweat.

‘...What would have happened to me if I didn’t stop there?’

Then, along with the fear, came a different mixture of emotions.

‘And…what would have happened to Jutan if he didn’t make it?’

As he efficiently ran away, Agan balled his fists, attempting endlessly to convert his emotions into fury. He didn’t even try to imagine the things his brother would face when caught by that monstrosity. His heart was crushed in the emotion, and soon enough, it overwhelmed the conversion. It was a feeling that he had never seen before, yet it had more intensity than a boiling rage or a freezing sorrow. This feeling, which he did not have a name for, could be perfectly described in one word from Doctor Jones’ world:

Guilt.

-O-O-O-

“...Because then…my brother. He died. All I did was run away—like the fool I was. I…I thought he would be strong enough to make it…but I had overestimated him. This crushing feeling, Doctor…” The man grasped his heart, and he sank in the pressure. “…What is this?! It’s like I’ve committed some kind of—“ Agan opened his hands away from his chest, and his eyes jumped around on the ground. “Some kind of crime! And this feeling will always be there to remind me, punishing me for my ignorance…”

The doctor figured out the puzzle he did not know the answer to. She closed her eyes, preparing an answer. Agan waited for her wisdom, for the feeling was still crushing him. Doctor Jones opened her eyes, and she spoke clearly.

“It sounds like you're referring to guilt there at the end–is that right? Guilt is definitely a difficult emotion to deal with, but that's okay. It's perfectly normal to feel guilt. It's often a sign that deep down, you understand that you did something wrong, and that you might not have taken the best course of action.”

Doctor Jones took a deep breath, but she wasn’t done yet. Agan tapped his head with his hand in thought, her words entering inside.

‘...Certainly, this description fits…’ He thought to himself deeply.

The light of the room helped him concentrate calmly, and the comforting hold the couch had only served to soothe him further. Of course however, that didn’t distract him from the doctor’s words–he told her to continue.

Doctor Jones asked him, “What can you do to make amends in this case? Do you think there's anything else you can do for this situation? Or is there a way you could let go of this guilt, and learn what you can from the experience?”

Agan leaned back once more on the couch. He tried to find the right words to answer, but he couldn’t do so in seconds. The couch seemed more like the comfort of someone dear to him rather than furniture, and he sank in its grip as he replied.

“...Guilt. Guilt, hm…” Agan sounded it out bitterly. “So that’s the word…”

Agan looked at the doctor’s aura, and as usual, it was near unnoticeable. A nice constant for the man. He continued, telling her another part of his story.

“...We had a village custom where the people who felt the most sorrow at one's death would bury the deceased's body. It was a way of telling the dead their regrets. The deeper the burial, the more they have regretted. Before I exited back into the village, I went back to the Land of No Return with caution, and I managed to take back his torn boot and some scraps of clothing he once wore...I didn’t take it for no reason, however.”

A man’s shadow hovered over Agan, but he forced himself to stay positive for the doctor’s sake. It listened to his words, and with a small break, Agan continued his tale.

“...Once I was back home, I buried those, hoping it would still get across to the afterlife...nobody else joined in, so I had to dig his grave all by myself.” Agan looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for someone amongst the heavens. “In a way, I was grateful, because that meant I could express my emotion for his death alone. There was nothing else I could do…” Agan repeated his last words listlessly. “Nothing…else…”

Doctor Jones felt a little better, but his tone at the end made her a bit worried. Still however, she comforted the man with her words, and she held a thoughtful expression for him.

“It's a wonderful gesture to honor your brother in that way. It must have been hard to do it by yourself, but it's a great way to express your emotions and do your best to make things right.” She raised her head at him, her elbows on her chair’s armrests. “Did it help you feel better? Can you think of any other way that might help you to let go of the regret and the guilt that you're feeling?”

Agan sighed deeply. The guilt inside his heart was still embedded deeply into his soul. “...It made me feel better, but only by a little bit. The burial felt worse for me as I knew that I wasn't truly burying him, only parts of him...I can't think of any other way to atone.”

Once again, Doctor Jones’ expression turned sympathetic. “...I’m sorry to hear that it’s such a difficult situation.” She started to reassure the man, giving a heartfelt speech. “In a way, I think that what you did was the best way you could have to try and honor your brother, and it's definitely not something that everyone would be able to do. Do you think it's possible that eventually, as the time from his passing gets longer, and as you grow and continue your own life, that that guilt might start to go away or maybe be replaced with something else, like a bittersweet feeling that you can share together with his memory?”

Agan put his chin on his upright hand. “...Maybe. But I doubt that will happen.” Agan closed his eyes, and his hands started shaking. “I can still remember his screams...and I couldn't even mourn properly for his death. Because of that, I…no. Doctor, do you…mind if we talk about something else for now? Something a bit happier.”

The doctor, sensing a better shift in topic, agreed to the question.

“Of course, Agan. What would you like to talk about instead?”