A mountainous region filled with several mountains whose very peaks are covered in clouds, along with hills and valleys of nourishing water.
In this region lived the Brownbeard clan.
"Is he awake yet, Uncas?" a four-footed man with gleaming dark brown eyes inquired of a young fellow.
The youth whose name was Uncas turned to the man and shook his head as he continued to squeeze a towel from a bucket of cold water.
Once he was done wringing water from the towel, Uncas would press the cold piece of cloth over the body of another youth who lay unconscious.
This was to help calm his body temperature and avoid sudden fever spikes that might claim his life.
"No, Papa. He does make flickers of movement from time to time but other than that, nothing."
The four-footed man played with his thick, abundant brown beard as he clicked his tongue and shook his head.
He scrutinised the body of the unconscious youth from where he stood, giving him a thorough look from hair to toe.
He was weak and extremely tired-looking, almost like he would kick the bucket anytime soon but given that he had been alive for a while, the dwarf didn't buy into this thought.
Even his hair was frail as the thin, long white strands of it continually fell off his head just with a little pressure from Uncas cleaning his head and face.
Regardless of how sickly this lad was looking, this dwarf of a man couldn't help but be amazed that the unconscious youth was still alive till now.
His wounds were healing and despite it being a few weeks since he had been out cold, the dwarf was very impressed because his body was healing at an incredible rate compared to the state he found the youth in.
He continued to stroke his beard, observing his son, Uncas, as he tended to the helpless youth who was fighting a hard battle to live.
'That vial in his hand is most certainly a healing potion,' the dwarf considered, recalling an item that had been clutched with the unconscious youth's grasp on the day he found him on the river banks.
'But one of this calibre. I wondered who crafted it. Interesting really, to say the least.'
His gaze was more intent on the unconscious youth and he couldn't help but feel pity for him.
'Do everything you can to survive, child. It would be a shame if you gave up now. I can swear by my ancestors that your story is one worth hearing and living to see. Survive, child.'
The dwarf gave him one last glance before exiting the room, leaving Uncas to continue his nursing duties.
"Take care of him, Uncas."
"Yes, Papa."
*********
The unconscious youth was indeed fighting for his life.
His mind was constantly being ravaged by the last memories he registered and his body was put in a state that was akin to being in danger.
That was the reason his heart raced and the temperature of his body was hot.
"Wait, Father. Wait…! Don't go! Don't do this."
Within the boy's subconscious state, the last incident he lived through before going comatose played before his eyes like a movie and he, a spectator.
It was a constant wheel of torment that seemed to have no end.
He watched it over and over again, and each time, his body would flicker or make certain movements that mimicked a convulsion.
He would see a grey-haired and bearded man pat him on the head and smile as he handed him a small glass vial which contained a sparkling purplish liquid.
The background of his memories was up in flames and immersed in blood.
Cries of anguish and help filled the air as well as the sound of metal clinking against metal in the setting of a battle.
This unconscious youth would see himself being forced by this man to collect the potion from his hands as he prepared to return to the battle.
"Run, Rey. Run as fast as you can. Survive my child."
He would see the last image he had of his father — it was one of him smiling as he happily sacrificed himself to buy his son some time for him to escape.
The scene immediately spun and changed into a forest where the green-eyed boy was running as fast as he could.
Closely behind him were a few horse riders and the perpetrators of the massacre he fled from.
The green-eyed boy was drenched in blood and this alone already scared him shitless.
Several around whistled through the air at an incredible speed, with a few striking him on the back, shoulder and thighs.
This caused the boy to stumble a roll on the forest floor.
Regardless, he managed to pick himself up, enduring through the hellish pain as he hopped on his way to save himself.
He put no mind to his injury, not caring to even tender to them.
He understood that the moment he laid his eyes on them, he would lose every iota of will to continue running.
He ran and ran until he reached the edge of the forest — a dead end.
In front of him was the end of a cliff and below this was a rushing river.
Behind him was the group of soldiers approaching with their bloodied weapons to take his life.
Rey looked upon the vial his father had given him and took a sip from it.
Just as he did this, he felt a searing sensation tear through his left shoulder, as he slumped and fell forward, falling into the river with the arrows that had pierced through him.
*********
In reality, the unconscious youth was struggling and kicking his legs about as he traversed a nightmarish experience deep within his subconscious.
Even though he was unaware of the real world, tears streamed down from the corners of his eyes.
He was struggling but Uncas tried his best to keep him steady and save him from wounding himself.
He continued to squirm for a few minutes before suddenly jolting up with great speed and force causing him to collide head first into Uncas' face, toppling the latter and sending him back a few metres.
Rey gaped at Uncas with extremely widened eyes.
His face, body and clothes were extraordinarily drenched in sweat.
His heart pounded so loudly one would think it would shoot out of his chest at any second.
Stunned, Rey could only make slow turns of his head, catching sight of the youth who had been taking care of him all the while — Uncas.
Despite having suffered a broken nose from Rey's accidental headbutt, Uncas managed to squeeze out a smile while pinching his nose tight.
"You are awake."