"Don't let that freak get away!" the leader of the pursuers bellowed. "For Mortallia!"
Fire slowly engulfed the forest as the boy ran, his heart pounding against his ribs, his lungs burning, and the soles of his feet nearly melting through his worn-out shoes. Arrows rained down like a storm of death, tearing through the trees around him. One missed his face by inches, slicing a shallow wound across his cheek. He ignored the pain—he had no choice.
A different group this time as well—all well-rested, fully equipped, and armed to the teeth. Yet the one running was the same exhausted boy. A week, a month—he had lost track of time. He couldn't remember the last time he had a proper meal, a moment's rest, or the day he first started fleeing for his life or the day he entered this forest.
The chase lasted for days on end in what seemed like an endless forest. Whenever the boy shook off one group, another would appear to replace them. Though his pursuers weren't particularly strong, he had long since exhausted himself to the point of being unable to fight back—forced to run.
No, that wasn't right. It wasn't that he couldn't fight back. He simply couldn't bring himself to harm them.
The chase never ended. No matter how many times he shook off one group, another would always take its place. His body started reaching its limits, his muscles screamed for respite, yet he had to press on whether he wanted to or not.
The flames around him narrowed his path, driving him straight toward a cliff. Now, he had nowhere left to run. Behind him, his enemies slowly advanced, drawing their swords and aiming their bows.
"To think I would die at the hands of those I vowed to protect," the boy muttered between ragged coughs.
"Shut up, you freak! No—demon!" the leader spat as he stepped forward. "What could you possibly protect when all you bring is destruction and death? If you truly wish to protect others, then let us end your miserable life!"
The group advanced cautiously, ensuring the boy had no chance to strike back. Yet, despite the grim situation, he still saw a way out. His pursuers were stronger than him but they weren't nearly as resilient.
And then, he was reminded of the corny phrase his master always said.
"In times of crisis, a gamble always arises," he whispered.
With a grin on his face, the boy rushed toward the edge of the cliff. Then, he leaped into the roaring currents below, which met him like an open maw—and then came the loud impact.
The pursuers backtracked, searching for a way to catch up through the forest, but the raging flames blocked their path. Frustration boiled over—some threw their weapons to the ground, while others fell to their knees, pleading to any gods above to end his life since they had failed to do so.
Whether their prayers were heard or not, the boy's situation remained dire. The brutal waves slammed him against jagged rocks, tossing him like a ragdoll. He could do nothing but brace himself and hope to survive.
After what felt like an eternity, the merciless current finally spat him out of the forest into calmer waters, far from his pursuers. However, relief barely had time to settle in since the worst had yet to come.
His eyes widened in terror as he saw the stream ahead ending in a towering waterfall.
Panicked, he thrashed against the current with all the strength he could muster, but it was futile. The river's grip was unrelenting, dragging him straight toward the edge—then throwing him to his doom.
As he plummeted, the boy desperately clung to the cloak his master gave him, trying to shield himself with it.
The impact came like a thunderous roar, echoing through the air as water poured all around.
Miraculously, the boy survived the fall, though his body was now heavily bruised, and his consciousness began to fade as soon as he reached the shore.
The boy fought to stay awake, crawling little by little toward the vegetation nearby. His mind swirled in chaos as he remembered why he had been hunted for so long.
All because of the white iris in his right eye—so different from his left, which was colored yellow. He didn't even understand why such a little thing was reason enough for them to want him dead.
Whatever the case, he could think about that later. Right now, his top priority was finding a way to heal his injuries.
Reaching a tree, he tried to stand, using it for support, but his body could no longer sustain itself. He collapsed.
His memories flashed before him as the last of his strength left his body. Finally, the boy closed his eyes.
The last thing he heard before blacking out was the sound of footsteps slowly approaching him.