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    A small fire crackled merrily. Topaz leaned against a log, drinking wine from a large bowl. No one objected. In fact, Karjen, the wine’s owner, was emptying his pouch generously, asking if Topaz enjoyed it.

    Since last night’s attack, the Grenrosha Forest had been unusually quiet, belying its ominous reputation. It allowed them the luxury of drinking around a fire in the yard in the middle of the night. Several empty wine bottles already littered the grass.

    “Topaz, why do you drink if you don’t get drunk?”

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    “Who gets drunk on wine?”

    “People usually do.”

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    Karjen giggled, as if he’d heard a joke. He’d been nursing a single glass all evening, yet his cheeks were flushed. Topaz had intended to tell the patient to take it easy, but it seemed unnecessary.

    Karjen finally finished his glass and set it down. He tucked his chin onto his knees and looked at Topaz, who was sitting a short distance away.

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    “Topaz.”

    “What?”

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    “Topaz…”

    “…..”

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    “We only have two days left.”

    That was true. He’d only agreed to let them stay for a week. When Topaz didn’t respond, Karjen buried his face in his knees. But he quickly looked up again, asking a ridiculous question.

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    “Wouldn’t it be nice if you took me in?”

    Nice? It was absurd. He’d be about as useful as a replacement for the wilting bouquet on the table. Besides…

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    “What good would it do you to live in a place like this?”

    “People on the outside might not believe it, but I rather like this forest. Perhaps it’s because you’re here.”

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    Topaz scoffed. The novelty of living in a place like this wore off after a week, especially for a nobleman who seemed unfamiliar with the concept of dressing himself.

    “If you’re drunk, go to sleep.”

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    Crackle, crackle. The fire popped softly.

    “Do you want to live in this cabin forever, Topaz?”

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    “I don’t know.”

    It had been a long time since he’d thought about what he wanted, let alone made plans for the future.

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    “…It seems lonely, being alone.”

    Karjen murmured softly.

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    The morning air was crisp. Dew clung to the grass, dampening their clothes. Haran, who hadn’t touched the wine, wandered around, spinning a pinwheel. The white fox, intrigued, approached him, and he gently scratched it between its perked ears.

    Karjen’s eyes were closed, and he was so still it was impossible to tell if he was asleep or unconscious. Topaz was considering carrying him back to the cabin when…

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    “Who taught you to use a sword?”

    Merdina, who had been sitting quietly by the fire, spoke. Topaz considered the question, then, seeing the genuine curiosity in his eyes, shrugged.

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    “A mercenary.”

    “A rather renowned one, I imagine.”

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    “He was.”

    Topaz recalled a memory that felt distant, like a lifetime ago.

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    “He’s dead now.”

    “I shouldn’t have asked.”

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    Merdina inclined his head apologetically. His dark blond hair, almost ash-colored, brushed his chin.

    “It’s fine. He lived the way he wanted and died the way he wanted. I doubt he had any regrets.”

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    Regrets are for the living, Topaz thought.

    “I have a feeling he wasn’t an ordinary person.”

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    “He wasn’t.”

    He’d taught a pickpocket who tried to steal his wallet how to use a sword. That wasn’t something an ordinary person would do.

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    Merdina poked the fire with a twig, sending sparks flying. Assuming the conversation was over, Topaz lifted his bowl.

    “How many years have you lived in this forest?”

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    But the questions continued. Topaz paused, the red wine barely touching his lips before he lowered the bowl.

    He looked across the fire. Merdina’s calm, grey-blue eyes were fixed on him. Topaz traced the rough surface of his wooden bowl with his fingertip.

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    “A while. Three, four years.”

    Merdina’s lips pressed into a thin line at his answer. Topaz was about to ask why he wanted to know when…

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    “Why do you live alone in this forest, Topaz? There’s a village nearby, and you could easily leave if you wanted to.”

    It wasn’t Merdina who had spoken. Topaz turned to see Karjen, his eyes now open and alert, no trace of drowsiness in his expression. He could sense Haran, still playing with the fox, listening intently.

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    It was the question Topaz had expected them to ask, the question they’d avoided until now. But there was no grand reason, no dramatic story to tell.

    “I have no reason to leave.”

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    “Confining yourself to this forest… it doesn’t seem like you.”

    “You talk like you know me.”

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    Topaz expected Karjen to smile, as he usually did, but he simply lowered his gaze, his expression serious.

    “I don’t know you well, but I’d like to.”

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    “Maybe I’m hiding here because I’m a criminal.”

    “I know you’re not.”

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    “What do you know about me?”

    Topaz smiled coldly. But Karjen didn’t flinch.

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    Strange mage, Topaz thought again.

    “You take in suspicious strangers, heal them, and feed them.”

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    “Giving someone food doesn’t make me a good person. Think like that, and you’ll get stabbed in the back one day.”

    “Speaking from experience?”

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    “…Yes.”

    He’d had comrades once, people he’d trusted with his life. They’d betrayed him. He’d barely survived, ending up in Kiolen by some miracle.

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    He’d survived, but he didn’t know what to do. A lifetime of wandering as a mercenary had left him with no family, no home to return to. No reason to leave this forest.

    All he’d ever wanted was freedom. The right to do what he wanted, to refuse what he didn’t. He’d even given up being a mercenary to pursue that freedom, but it had ended in bloodshed.

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    Tired and disillusioned, he’d chosen seclusion and isolation, hoping to fade away quietly, unnoticed.

    “If you need a reason, I’ll give you one.”

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    Karjen, who had been sitting hunched over, stood up. Dew-covered grass rustled beneath his feet.

    “I hear you sometimes take mercenary work in Kiolen.”

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    “…Yes,” Topaz managed to reply.

    “We’re preparing for a long journey. A journey to cure my illness and return to where we belong.”

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    “…..”

    “It will be a dangerous journey, but having someone as strong as you by our side would be reassuring…”

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    Karjen knelt on one knee before Topaz, lowering himself to meet his gaze. It resembled a knight pledging fealty, even though, if anyone, Topaz was the one better suited to the role of a knight.

    “Topaz, protect me.”

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    Karjen extended his hand. It was a pale, beautiful hand.

    “Leave this forest and come with us. I will hire you.”

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    The man, who clearly couldn’t possibly know who Topaz was, trembled his eyelids as if confessing a long-held desire. As if he were truly desperate.

    Sunlight filtered through the tall trees, suggesting dawn had broken outside the forest.

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    This group had been strange from the start. They’d invaded his sanctuary, disrupting his carefully constructed routine.

    If he refused this offer, he could maintain his small, solitary world, just as he had for the past year, the past few years.

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    But was it truly peace?

    A long silence stretched between them, an eternity. A breeze rustled through the forest, tousling Topaz’s hair. The long, red strands swayed against his shoulders.

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    A sudden, irresistible urge welled up inside him.

    Slowly, Topaz drew his sword. He could sense Haran and Merdina instinctively reaching for their own weapons. But Karjen, despite the sword being drawn inches from him, remained unfazed.

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    Topaz flicked his wrist, turning the blade towards his own neck. Only then did Karjen’s eyes widen, and he reached out. But before he could react, a soft snip echoed through the air.

    A lock of his long, red hair, tied back since he’d entered this forest, fell to the ground, severed cleanly. His shoulders felt lighter.

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    Three pairs of eyes stared at him, wide with shock. The two knights, their hands frozen on their sword hilts, looked bewildered. Karjen stared at his now much shorter hair, his neck exposed. The identical expressions of shock confirmed they were indeed friends.

    “What are you staring at?”

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    “I’ve never seen anyone cut their hair like they’re scything wheat…”

    “Have you ever seen anyone scything wheat?”

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    “…..”

    Karjen blinked, speechless. He was a nobleman who had probably never even seen someone mowing grass, let alone scything wheat.

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    “You’re rich, right?”

    “What?”

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    “If you want to hire me, you have to pay. My fees aren’t cheap. Can you afford them?”

    “….!”

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    A spark of understanding flickered in Karjen’s eyes. He spoke quickly, “I’ll pay you whatever you ask.”

    “You’re awfully bold, promising that without knowing how much I’ll charge.”

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    Topaz clicked his tongue at the easy mark. Karjen smiled, a pleasant smile, but his eyes held a glint of amusement.

    “You already know how much I can afford, Topaz.”

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    “Are you an incredibly bad person?” Topaz asked, recalling his experience that rich people were usually bad people.

    Karjen shrugged.

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    “Moderately bad. But I’ve never cheated anyone out of their money.”

    Topaz chuckled at the honest answer, a soft sound like the wind. Three pairs of eyes turned to him again.

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    “That’s good to know.”

    Topaz ran a hand through his hair, scattering the severed red strands.

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    Perhaps this was another bad decision. What could he possibly know about these people after only a week? These seemingly loyal companions could turn on each other, and his own end might once again be marked by blood and betrayal.

    But he had nothing left to lose.

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    Perhaps it was fate that brought these four fugitives together in this cursed forest. Topaz decided to surrender to this unknown fate, for now.

    It was a humble beginning to a long journey.

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