I opened my eyes.
'Where am I? Who am I?'
The snow crunched beneath his boots, a sharp, rhythmic sound slicing through the forest's silence. Around him, pine trees towered, branches bowed under the weight of snow like hunched old men. The sky hung milky gray, as impenetrable as the void in his mind. He paused, exhaled, and watched his breath form a fleeting cloud in the air—something solid in this boundless expanse.
Rhys.
The name surfaced abruptly in his mind, like a fish snapping through dark water. Rhys. He repeated it aloud, testing its sound. The syllable felt foreign on his tongue, yet somewhere deep in his chest, it resonated with familiarity.
"Rhys," he whispered again, as if the word might thaw the numbness in his limbs. But nothing followed. No memories, no faces, no echoes of a past life. Only the snow dusting his coat and the wind sighing through the trees like a half-forgotten lullaby.
He fumbled at his coat pocket, hands numb from cold, and pulled out a black leather keychain. A single rusted key dangled from it. On the fob, etched in tiny letters, was a word: Rhys.
Rhys Was this his name? A clue? A warning? He pressed the key's jagged edge into his palm, willing the pain to spark something. But it didn't help. The fog in his mind only thickened, swirling like the mist weaving between the trees.
A sound shattered the stillness—the snap of a twig. He froze. Behind him, somewhere in the snow-laden pines, something shifted. Deliberate. Slow. His muscles tensed, but when he turned, there was nothing but white emptiness.
Yet on the ground, fresh and stark against the snow, lay footprints. Leading deeper into the woods. His own? He crouched to inspect them, but a shiver crawled up his spine. Between the boot prints, he spotted something else—tiny charred flecks staining the snow. Ashes.
In the distance, laughter rang out. Fragile, almost melodic, like the ghost of a memory. Rhys straightened, staring into the haze. Somewhere out there, answers waited. Or lies.
He swallowed the ice lodged in his throat and followed the trail.
Who am I? No really, who am I? Do I really only know my Name? Nothing else? I lost my memories didn't I? Who is this guy with the Name "Rhys".
Suddenly the footprints ended abruptly at the edge of a lake, its surface frozen into a mirror of ice. I halted, my breath catching. The light here was different—paler, colder, as if leaching from the ice itself. Slowly, as though afraid to shatter the silence, I stepped closer.
My shadow fell across the frozen expanse, and there, between swirling snowflakes, I saw it: my own face. My own face?
The eyes struck me first. White-gray like winter sky, threaded with veins of emerald-green light that pulsed deep within the pupils—as if carrying a distant, forgotten fire. Trembling, I raised a hand and touched my reflection through the frost. My skin was pale, translucent as parchment, my features sharp yet unfamiliar, as though I were staring at a stranger's portrait.
Who am I? Is that me?
Thousands of thoughts came to my mind.
Suddenly, the green light in my eyes flared, bright and searing. I staggered back, but the ice beneath me began to crackle. Fractures snaked across the surface, and between the splinters, visions flickered—fleeting, fragmented:
— A hand gripping a burning torch. Ash falling from the sky like black snow.
— Voices calling my name. Not "Rhys." Another name I couldn't grasp.
— Laughter. The same I'd heard in the woods. Closer now. Threatening.
The ice shattered under my feet. I fall. "Shit."I cursed. I lurched forward, the water's cold hitting me like a slap. But as I gasped for air, the lake was gone. I lay on my back in the snow, the ice unbroken, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs.
"What the hell did just happen?" I asked myself.
And where the cracks had been, something now lay in the snow: a torn scrap of fabric, edges charred. Embroidered on it in faded green thread was a symbol—a tree whose roots coiled into an eye. An emblem.
From the woods behind me, the laughter rang out again. This time, it wasn't spectral but real, corporeal. I turned, the green ember in my eyes flickering like a warning.
"You shouldn't be here, Echo," said a stranger's melodic voice.
But when I looked up, no one stood there. Only the wind carried away a final, whispered word:
"…before they find you."
I grabbed the emblem and ran. Branches whipped against my face, snow seeped into my boots, numbing my toes, but I didn't care. The voice—that laughter—clung to me like a second shadow. Echo. That word, that name, burrowed into my skull and refused to let go. I didn't know what it meant, but I knew—I couldn't let it catch up to me.
The icy air burned in my lungs like searing needles. Doesn't matter. I have to get out. Out of this forest.
But the forest had no end. White pines stretched as far as I could see, their trunks draped in thick snow, their branches like frozen skeletal fingers. Minutes passed, stretching into eternity, until I finally stopped, panting. My hands were numb, my skin tinged blue from the cold. I leaned against a tree, shivering.
The emblem in my pocket pulsed with warmth, as if mirroring my heartbeat. Slowly, I pulled it out. In the pale winter light, it shimmered with an eerie green glow, as if molten emeralds were trapped within. The embroidered tree's roots curled around the eye at its center, its pupil nothing more than a single strand of black thread. A clue? A curse?
But what good was a mystery if I froze to death? I had no idea where I was—if this world even knew people, if anyone had ever walked this snow besides me.
The silence was so thick I could hear my own blood rushing in my ears. Then I screamed, my voice cracking from the cold:
"Is anyone here? Please!"
Only the echo answered, hollow and ghostly. "... anyone … anyone …"
"Help!" I shouted until my throat burned.
Nothing. Not even a bird taking flight.
My knees buckled. I collapsed into the snow, my hands sinking into the white expanse that blurred into gray before my eyes. Why me? Why here? The questions pounded in my skull, but there were no answers. Only the cold sinking into my bones and a hunger gnawing me hollow from the inside. Tears might have brought some relief, but my eyes were dry—frozen like the lake where I'd once seen my reflection.
The emblem flickered, a soft glow, as if trying to comfort me. I clutched it tightly, its edges pressing into my palm.
All of a sudden I heard a voice. It wasn't the strange echo. No. It was a human like voice.