The sky, far in the distance was beginning to turn orange, the Star nearing the horizon. It wouldn’t be long before the end of daylight, and Zayan knew this. He had to hurry yet he couldn’t. All he could do was silently creep towards the direction with trees wide apart hoping no one would spot him—especially not those hunters and beasts.
Each step was taken lightly trying to avoid making any noise. Stepping on the slightly soft soil with the balls of his foot, refraining from getting near dry leaves or twigs. Zayan’s eyes were darting around looking for anything that could potentially harm him. He never stopped his chant: Stay calm, always stay calm…
Zayan was exhausted, very exhausted—both mentally and physically. With each step, his body wanted to fall. He could already see the outside of the forest—a grassland, bright green in color with a hint of orange over it. This sight gave Zayan comfort while his whole body was aching. “I am almost out,” Zayan thought. “I can finally leave this dangerous place. Hopefully, there is less danger outside.”
Zayan walked and walked until he finally left that unfriendly place. His feet felt the soft grass, his face felt the cool breeze. He sighed in relief finally daring to breathe normally. The dangers of the forest were already behind him. The beast-eating locals, the towering trees, and the constant sense of being observed. Still, he knew he couldn’t rest—not yet when he was still near the mouth of a tiger.
Zayan felt that he could now walk normally but his body was too weak. He stepped forward. “I am out,” he thought. All he could think of was finally being out, so much so that he forgot his tiredness. He walked forward, one step at a time. But then, his fatigue caught up to him. His body fell, legs unable to balance him. He lay there, face flat on the ground unable to control his body. He was still conscious but he could feel his mind getting fuzzy. “No. No. Not yet. Not yet. I still have to go forward. Forward. Can’t lose consciousness.” He thought. His body wouldn’t move no matter what he tried. He didn’t want to admit it but he too was aware that his consciousness wouldn’t hold much longer.
Footsteps. Zayan heard some footsteps coming towards him. “People! Many people!” He realized before completely blacking out.
These people were different from the ones Zayan had seen in the forest. They didn’t wear animal skins, didn’t have wild eyes or bloodied weapons. They were dressed normally—strange, but familiar in comparison to the savagery Zayan had been an audience of.
The group stopped a few feet away from the unconscious boy, their voices were low as they murmured to one another.
“How did someone like that come out of the forest?” one of them asked, a young adult no more than 22 years of age.
“He doesn’t look like one of us,” another voice added, their suspicion evident.
The strangers exchanged glances, unsure of what to do. None of them made a move to touch him, but they drew closer, staring down at Zayan’s unconscious form. His clothing—foreign and unlike anything they were used to—seemed to fascinate them.
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“His clothing… it’s strange,” one whispered, the voice edged with curiosity.
“Look at him. He isn’t native. Where did he come from?”
Zayan who was unconscious, remained the subject of their careful observation. They hesitated to touch him, but one leaned in, studying his strange appearance more closely. The others exchanged wary glances, unsure whether to intervene or leave him be. Zayan was moved to get a more careful view of his face.
After a long pause, one of them spoke again. “We need to figure out where he’s from… and why he came from the forest. And you, don’t touch him anymore.” He spoke to all. The target of the second half of the sentence was the man touching Zayan who had rotated Zayan so that he was facing upwards.
The group stood around Zayan, their cautious murmurs filling the quiet air. The sun dipping lower, cast a soft orange glow over the vast plain. Shadows stretched long over the grass as they continued to observe the boy, their curiosity increasing with each passing moment.
One of the older men in the group stepped ahead, leaning down just slightly to get a better look at Zayan’s face. He was tall, with broad shoulders, his face worn by years under the sun. His brow wrinkled as he examined the odd boy, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“This is no local,” he said, shaking his head. “Look at these clothes. They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The fabric is too fine. Too clean for someone coming out of that forest. And simply of an odd design.” Pointing at Zayan’s clothes.
“What’s this?”, the young man from before muttered, pointing at the fruit secured by a makeshift tie around Zayan’s waist. “He’s carrying something… but it’s not from around here.”
The woman beside him kneeled down, her eyes narrowing as she examined the fruit more closely. “That’s not something I have seen before,” she said softly. “Where did he get this?”
A younger man crouched beside Zayan, inspecting the strange fruit. “It doesn’t look poisonous… but he’s been eating them.” His eyes shifted to the edges of Zayan’s mouth, the faint remnants of the fruit he had eaten earlier were still visible. “He’s survived on it.”
“He doesn’t look dangerous.” The woman from before said realizing that this person was just a boy.
The older man grunted. “Dangerous or not, we don’t know what he’s doing here or what he plans on doing. No one comes out of that cursed forest without a story. What if he’s marked by it? Marked by that cruel curse of madness.”
The woman hesitated for a moment before hovering her hand over Zayan’s forehead as if testing the air around him for signs of any sickness or omen. “But look at him. He’s completely passed out from exhaustion. He needs help.”
“But should we be the ones who help him?” the shorter man among them asked, taking a step back. He had a bad feeling about Zayan the moment he saw him. “What if he has the forest’s curse? You know how anyone who comes out from there starts killing everyone.”
The group exchanged uneasy glances at each other, the weight of the decision pressing on them. None of them moved for several moments, the air thick with doubt.
Zayan’s remained motionless, his chest rising and falling periodically. His face, peaceful in unconsciousness, gave no hint of the ordeal he had endured in the forest.
Finally, the woman stood back up and took a step back. “We can’t leave him here. Whatever danger he might bring, we’ll have to face it. He’s just a boy. If he’s dangerous, we’ll know soon enough.”
The older tall man sighed, reluctant to agree. “Fine. But we take him to the village with caution. Keep an eye on him, never let your guard down. We still don’t know who or what he is. The least bit of carelessness could be the end of us.”
Among all of these people there was the short man(the one who said they didn’t have to be the ones to help.) who had strongly wanted to resist the idea but knowing his decision was outnumbered, he kept shut. For some unknown reason, he seemed to hate this boy.