‘Last death?’

Asdras hunched over on his bed, the coarse fabric rough against his bare skin, as he let out a deep sigh. His mind flickered through several thoughts at once — the monster, the story he heard, the stick. He traced each etched letter with his fingertip, feeling the grooves and fissures of the rugged surface, as if the act of memorizing them could unlock their hidden meaning.

His eyes darted around the tent, catching sight of a nearly shattered jar and a worn broom lying nearby. He tried to imagine the better times these objects had seen before everything happened.

‘How different would it be if I were here before the monster? And...’

He turned the stick over and over in his hands, his thoughts shifting. He clutched the stick to his chest, feeling its roughness against his heart, and closed his eyes, letting the combined weight of the story and the message press down on him.

But he couldn't keep his eyes closed; his blood rushed like a turbulent river. His head began to ache until he voiced his thoughts aloud, as if trying to tell whatever was happening to him that he would try to understand.

“Damn! What do these words even mean? Last Death.”

The words seemed to strike him as much as the dreadful feeling the monster caused him.

“Was it a warning? A tip? Whose death would be last? Mine or someone else’s? Why in the world was I carrying a stick with these words? And then, what about Hidden Choice? What’s hidden, and what choice is it? Is it me who needs to choose?”

He tossed and turned, barely noticing the hardness of the ground. In truth, he wished he could feel it. Since encountering the monster, his body felt numb, and even the sharp edges of the exposed fissures on the stick didn't bring him any pain.

“Cut source. Defeat Monster. Learn the song.” He said it in one go, then drew a deep breath.

“Perhaps… I was part of a group sent to help the village. Cut source? Which source? Maybe it's the source of the curse. Now… Defeat the monster. Surely it isn’t me who will do it, right? And learn the song? Which song? The one the villagers sing in the presence of the monster?”

He rose suddenly and crossed to the broom, running his fingers along its worn handle as if trying to imagine it was the lute that Sixth played.

“Learn the song… Why can’t I remember anything about the lute? Something inside me tells me I know how to play it. But why? And why would the message tell me to learn the song? Does it mean the message is purely for me or someone else? It doesn’t make sense. If it was for me, then why would it tell me to face that monster? But somehow, I know I really need to learn that song. And this place…”

He touched the broom, the old jar, the worn-out fabrics, and the tent.

“Why do I feel like I know this place? It’s so strange. It’s like I’ve been here before. But how could that be possible? I’m… Damn! I can’t even remember my age! Damn! And who in the world is Joah? Trust Joah? How can I trust someone I don’t know? And this place surely doesn’t help. First, Second… There’s no John here!”

He pushed aside the tent flap and stepped out into the cold night. The past sleeping time felt different from the rest of the day. It felt cold and fresh, but it held an eerie quality of sadness and death in the air. He tilted his head back, letting a fresh breeze of air fill his lungs.

“Don’t be a fool.” Asdras let out a muffled chuckle. “Is it about the meaning of the message? Telling me not to fool myself while trying to understand it? Is it about me? Fool. Yes, I think I’m such a fool. Not even my memories are clear, and here I am, trying to solve a riddle. Well, at least, being a fool or not could help me understand myself. Now… Seek the Innkeeper and 347?”

“I’m sure there isn’t a single inn in this place, at least not anymore. And that number — is it someone from here? Maybe I should ask First or Second about it. At least some of the words make sense in this place. Defeat the monster, learn the song, and 347. Now, of the others, I’m not sure.”

He felt glum by the time he realized he was wandering around the tents, exploring the place. Moonlight bathed everything in a ghostly blue, the long shadows carrying a chill that seeped into his very soul.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed where he was going until he found himself close to the fence, where he saw Second.

Despite his malnourished appearance, Second moved with surprising agility, a sword in his hand. He lunged and parried with an invisible foe, his muscles rippling beneath his thin, sweat-slicked skin.

His breath came in controlled bursts, forming small clouds of steam around his mouth. The slender beams of moonlight filtered through the trees, casting delicate shadows that danced upon the silvered blade. Each glimmering reflection mirrored the dazed and lost expression of Second.

Asdras watched as Second pivoted and struck, a deep sense of longing welling up within him. Something whispered to him that he was missing something — a sword. It was the second time he felt such a profound connection to an object.

“Can’t sleep?”

“No… I’m somehow more lost than before, if that’s even possible.”

“Why?”

Asdras felt an urge to share his feelings with Second. He didn't know if it was because Second looked like someone who would listen without judging him or if it was because he was using a sword, but he trusted him enough to vent his feelings; technically, he trusted his guts, and for him, it was enough in the moment.

“By everything. I mean, who am I? Why am I in this place? That monster. And that damned message on the stick made everything more confusing.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Second paused, sweeping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He reached for his canteen hanging on the fence, uncapped it, and took a long, refreshing drink. Without warning, he tossed it to Asdras, who caught it in surprise, the cool metal feeling oddly out of place in his hands.

“Drink it,” he said. “You seem to have much on your mind, much to talk about. So drink it.”

The first sip of water was a shock of freshness, quenching his parched throat and sending a wave of relief through his body. The liquid felt like a soothing balm, different from the special brew First gave him early.

“Thank you,” Asdras said as he tossed the canteen back to Second. “And sorry… I think I drank it all.”

Second shrugged, then took a deep look at him.

“So, tell me.”

“What?”

“Whatever you want to tell me, when you're lost, just say the first thing that comes to your mind.”

“Is there someone here named 347?”

“Why?”

“Hm… I… I think I should tell you about the message.”

Asdras anchored his arms on the fence, leaning forward to support his weight as he gazed into the darkness of the forest. The night was thick and impenetrable, but he could catch glimpses of small, eerie, orbiting glows.

“Last Death. Hidden Choice. Cut source. Defeat Monster. Learn the song. Trust Joah. Don’t be a fool. Seek the Innkeeper. 347.”

“It’s confusing. Some of the messages I’ve thought about a lot, like ‘learn the song’ – maybe it’s about the song you guys sang earlier. Others just confuse me more. I think I was part of a group sent to help this place. I mean, ‘defeat the monster’ sounds like the monster I saw today, but the rest… I don’t know. I asked about the number because you guys have names based on numerals.”

Second sat atop the fence near Asdras, his gaze fixed on the reflection of his face in his blade. As he pondered what he had heard from Asdras, each possibility weighed heavily on his mind. With every deep sigh, long streams of breath formed, visible in the cold night air, each exhalation carrying the burden of his thoughts into the darkness.

“When we found you, there was no sign of anyone accompanying you. And,” Second looked at Asdras's hands, “the crow in your palm. Do you know what it means?”

Asdras stared in surprise at his palm, as if it were the first time he had truly seen it. His hand felt strangely alien yet familiar, and for a moment, his mind went blank. The faint red crow emblem etched into his skin seemed to pulse like his heartbeat.

“This… Why?”

Second looked deeply at Asdras's palm, his single eye tracing the faint red crow emblem with a mix of recognition and dread. His gaze moved as memories of the past surfaced, bringing with them the emblem's meaning. As the realization dawned on him, he pondered the possible significance of this boy's presence in this village, then he spoke.

“It means royalty. Not just anyone could have this symbol; only high nobles from the empire are meant to have one.”

“So am I from nobility?”

“It seems like it. Even the way you speak, kid, is different from someone your age. Your words are more articulate, and your eyes bear a hint of wisdom that I’ve only seen when I visited the capital.”

“Then why am I here? I mean, if I am from nobility, why would I be here?”

“This, I don’t know. Maybe it’s like you thought, you’re part of a group sent here. Or… you’re part of a trial.”

“Trial?”

“As I recall, everyone with a mark like this needs to undergo a trial to awaken their power, different from everyone else.”

Asdras traced the lines of the emblem with his fingers, the symbol pulsing softly under his touch. He furrowed his brow in concentration, trying to piece together the fragments he heard.

‘What sort of trial is this?’

“How do you know about this? I mean, from what you told me in the story… I assume only those of the empire would know.”

Second scratched his head and let out a shy chuckle, breaking the tension that had settled between them.

“I used to be many things, and one of them was being the bastard son of a noble. A low noble, but nonetheless a noble.”

‘Then my trial would be…'

Asdras pushed his body backward, gripping the fence tightly as he looked at Second with wide, incredulous eyes.

“Don’t tell me my trial is really to defeat that monster?”

“It looks that way, kid.”

“But how does that make sense? That thing – you even said in the story that people with powers couldn’t do anything against it. And this message, how does it make sense? I mean, if they knew about the monster, because surely it wasn’t me who wrote that, why send me and not a powerful warrior?”

“Because that,” Second chuckled, “is the meaning of a trial.”

“But that…”

Second jumped over the fence, landing lightly on the other side. He stretched his body, muscles tensing and relaxing as he loosened up. Turning his head, he spoke to Asdras.

“I know, it doesn’t make any sense. Kid,” he let out a long sigh. “Look, I know it’s confusing for you. I know it seems unfair. Hell, I myself am confused. It really looks like someone in the empire knows what happened here, and instead of sending someone to truly help us, they sent you to undergo a trial. But…”

Second squatted down and picked up a pebble, then effortlessly threw it into the darkness. The pebble struck a branch with a sharp crack, startling a crow perched there. The bird flapped its wings and flew to another branch, cawing loudly, the sound echoing through the night and momentarily making the other crows join it.

“I’m tired, you know. First is too old, almost falling apart. Sixth, that poor boy had to use a rope to keep himself from screaming in his sleep. Eight, that sweet girl, lost her dad and brother. Third is only holding on because Eight is still alive. Fifth, well, he hasn’t left his tent since he lost his legs. And Fourth… well, let’s not talk about him…”

“What I’m trying to say is, if the empire judges that you can solve this problem, then don’t take yourself lightly, kid. You must be special in some way. And if it means that you can help us, then despite how hopeless it may seem or how speechless I am at their response, I can only help you.”

Asdras looked down, a wave of shame washing over him as he grappled with the realization of how diabolical their situation was. The weight of being their hope — a young boy lost and without memories of his own identity.

“Help me? How?”

“Well, you mentioned 347, right? Then I think I know the first step. Are you ready?”

“No.”

“That’s good then.”

Second began walking into the forest, his silhouette blending with the shadows of the trees. He turned his head slightly and waved to Asdras, a silent but clear gesture for him to follow.