It was a cold winter, the cold struck your ribs branching out like a tenacious root braking trough the dry soil. By now it had been snowing for a week without stopping and fifteen centimeters of snow had grown which made it impossible to access the water well, making the snow melt the only possible option for drinking pure water. Taking the wood so as not to freeze like a dog had become even more complicated for the tree that sinks with each acceptance. Cultivating any type of vegetable or tuber was impossible, so it was necessary to collect everything and divide it for the whole season, the animals were in hibernation, mushrooms and berries were under the snow. Tagao with a backpack on his shoulders, made from twigs, full of wood, made his way, leaving a trail that extended from the forest. Of the pines only the bare branches were visible, without trunk they touched the ground directly. An old lady came out of the horizon. She had a cape on his shoulders and a shirt stained red. She was wounded and dragged aimlessly. Tagao saw her, in an instant a myriad of memories of his past appeared to him, so many that there was no more space in his head. His head hurt so much. He joined everything at the meeting with that woman, decided to ignore her: to let their streets not meet. He turned his head not to look at her, their eyes met. That woman's look was like his. He felt a sensation he had never felt before climbed up to his neck, despite everything he decided nevertheless to ignore it, ignoring even his resentment.
"Wait up!" The woman screamed, trying to stretch her bleeding arm. He stopped for a moment but then started walking again.
"You can't ignore me! Look at me, look at my state, you can't abandon me." Tagao finally decided to show the voice:
"Look, I don't want to look for problems. Someone doesn't hurt herself in a place like this and if she were, she wouldn't go around wandering."
"I know you can help me." Suddenly she stared at him with a dreamy, searching look, he returned with a confused look. He had never seen her before, so he started feeling a little scared.
"Damn. What an ugly past. You were like a slave."
"But you can't know ..." He resumed: "Your parents were ... they were bad people, right? Your mother was ... a prostitute and your father was a ... executioner? They beat you for everything, but you don't do-do-nothing because you.. y-wer-wea... " "Enough! How do you know all this?" She said nothing. He regained his senses and his eyes returned to normal, he was paler than ever. They looked at each other for a few minutes and then Tagao broke the silence:
"Fine. If you want me to help you follow me. But I'll let you know one thing: my house is far away, if you fall I'll leave you behind."
She accepted with a nod. The woman breathed heavily, the blood continued to drip without stopping. Slowly he walked away: with his brisk pace he could not recover.
"Please stop for a moment." Her breath froze in the air at an ever more constant rate.
"I told you, didn't I? If you stay behind I leave you behind." This time he received no reply. They met a squirrel, stood on the ground waiting for death to come and get him, he had not prepared food for the winter. He made no sound as his little body froze, taking away his increasingly diminishing breathing. His mouth was open and his eyes were dull. Tagao took it with two fingers and put it under his clothes. He was dressed in rags, a leather coat and boots. After a long walk they came to a hut, the fireplace was made of stones held together by quicklime, the roof was of dark wood with irregular planks, the walls were of lighter boards filled with wool and covered with mud. Tagao opened the door forcefully and staggered in, put the squirrel in the meantime who had regained consciousness near the fireplace. He took the wood off his shoulders and stacked it on the pile on the right side of the fireplace. He pulled out a trunk from under a table, sat down and began to prepare threads, needles, clean rags and ointments. After two minutes the old woman arrived and collapsed at the door. He took her by the armpits and dragged her into his house, took off her cape and shirt. The wound was deep, spread over his shoulder and the blood didn't seem to stop coming out. Both of them were sweating: she with pain and fatigue, he with the severity of the wound. He didn't know if he would be able to cure it. However he managed to handle the situation as best he could: he took some liquor and poured it over the wound, took a small bottle with a solution of water and salt, proceeded to pour that too, the woman quietly screamed.
"Hold on: I'm just putting on the disinfectant. Now im going to seal it." After passing the thread in the needle he tore off the excess with his teeth and tied the ends. He passed the needle between the wound's lips as gently as he could, but she kept struggling with the pain. Then he took some cloth, rolled it up until it became thick and gave it to the old woman.
"Bite with all your might as if it were the only branch that holds you over a canyon." He hastened to continue the operation. After pain and tears, the woman collapsed on the ground like a deflated balloon. Tagao put her on his bed and let her rest. Now that he could see her he noticed that she was younger than he thought actually, she was getting younger. Tagao was so terrified that he had to lean against his moldy, pale wall. Her wrinkles were slowly disappearing, meanwhile the skin full of small folds was becoming smooth and the shape was also changing: from large to small. Then the body lit up, Tagao's eyes widened more and more in front of that very strong light and then he fell on the rough floor. The old lady, now a beautiful young girl got up from the bed. She turned to his sweat-dripping face and spoke to him in a quiet, absent voice: "You're a kind boy after all. I'll give you a chance to find a happy life, do you accept?"
"..."
"I think it is a yes. I will concentrate all your hatred on a little girl so you can think better. You will travel and travel. You will fight and teach, you will deviate an apostle." Tagao's face didn't change expression and she thought: He's afraid. A scared executioner. Light as a feather, he flew towards him and then placed his hands on her cheeks. They were warm, they gave off a warmth that melted your heart, but it was pleasant. It looked like a fairy with no wings. She had a thin, light white dress, her blond hair fluttered under a light: moonlight. It had suddenly become night.
"I am Eva, I think you could call me a goddess."
She noticed the scared face.
"Do not be scared."
From her fingertips sunk into the neck a black liquid rose to his hand up to his arm. The consistency was like water, but instead of falling like saliva, it didn't drip, it flowed like a small undisturbed river without banks. She took his hands from his neck. She put his hands together like a prayer, the liquid from the left moved to the right, with her free hand she picked up the dust on the floor. Drop by drop the liquid was mixing with the dust, which like an embryo was taking the form of a girl. When she looked like a mature girl the goddess blew in his face and she inhaled as if she had come out of an apnea session. She gently patted her sleeping face.
"She is Nanako, she is a girl who lived a difficult life like yours: she was a slave. I infused your hatred so that it could exist because it is the only energy I can give her at the moment. You're going to change that energy to a positive one. " Tagao swallowed noisily, it was like a frozen statue.
"Go to the city, you'll be like a hero, you'll have to fight monsters." She smiled sweetly at Tagao and disappeared. Tagao and Nanako were the only ones left, he could not help but faint.
"...Damn?"
2
The sound of rushing water could be heard throughout the cave. A hoar frosted his cheeks and sent a chill down his spine. The whole cave was cold, but not very different from the place where she lived a while ago. He tried to think. His mind was not clear, he had a fog that expanded and blurred his thoughts. The water dripped from the stalactites, making every sound resonate between the walls.
"Are you cold?" Tagao noticed Nanako's tremble.
"N-no."
"You're stuttering from the cold, hold on." He took off his coat and remained in his shirt, handed it to her. But she made him a surprised face.
"But won't you freeze like this?"
"Do not worry." Nanako shrugged into her coat as much as she could, no longer felt cold, but she wanted Tagao to be there to hold her. Tagao had baggy pants up to his knees, then they were tight and held his calves well. The coat was full of tears, but the inside was like new, strangely, despite all the battles and claws and fangs, the padded interior had not come out of its rips. A roar sounded throughout the cave making it tremble.
"A monster, get ready Nanako."
She took out the knives he had in his belt, it was leather like the revolver strap, she had two that crossed at the center of life, if they broke she would have had spare, behind his back instead he had a spear, it was very decorated and complicated, with sophisticated doodles that adorned the diamond blade, the handle was of a very resistant wood: guaiac. They had discovered it a while ago. Tagao, on the other hand, had a katana by his side, attached to nothing, floated, gripped the shining hilt with his icy hands.