"It's… amazing."
The words slipped out on their own, low, almost a whisper, as I stared at my leg. Where there had once been a deep, ugly gash, now there was just a crooked, pale pink scar—still sensitive—but closed. Whole. It seemed as though the wound had been there for weeks, not hours.
I ran my fingers over it slowly. Expecting pain. Expecting that sharp shock that makes your body jerk back on its own.
Nothing.
Just a faint tingle.
The same went for my ribs, arms, legs… basically my whole body. Almost all the pain from before now felt like a distant memory.
Then the thought hit, sudden and heavy:
I have to get out of here.
I looked around, at the trees, at the ground still marked. Staying here wasn't safe.
What if they decide to come here?
I swallowed hard.
Worse… what if she comes?
Raven Branwen.
She could just appear out of nowhere—maybe not even walking. Maybe already on her way, hidden in that crow form, watching from somewhere above the trees.
The idea made my skin crawl.
No.
Staying here isn't an option.
But… where the hell do I go?
Trees on one side, trees on the other.
A distant memory surfaced, something I'd heard in a cartoon—a simple line, almost silly, but now making too much sense:
If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there.
I want to reach a city… but I have no clue where one even is.
So…
The line fit perfectly.
With that in mind, I turned in a random direction and started walking.
.---.---.---.
I ran right into a picnic in the middle of the forest.
A blanket spread on the ground, an open basket, neatly made sandwiches, fresh strawberries, and a bottle of champagne. A man kneeling in front of a woman.
She laughed, nervous. He took a deep breath.
"Will you marry me?"
She brought her hands to her mouth, eyes watering.
"Yes."
Silence for a second.
Perfect.
Then I grabbed a sandwich.
The bite was perfect.
The crunch echoed louder than it should have because suddenly they realized they weren't alone.
They both turned their heads at the same time.
The man reacted first. He stood quickly, putting himself between her and me, arms spread wide.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"Whitley," I replied, still chewing.
She clutched his arm tightly.
"What do you want?" he insisted.
I swallowed.
"Directions," I said. "Information."
I glanced at the sandwich.
"And food. But I already took care of that part."
He frowned, clearly tense.
"Look… I don't have any money on me," he said quickly. "If it's that—"
I took a second to process.
"Money?" I repeated. "No."
I pointed lightly toward the road.
"Just the way to the city."
He hesitated, then pointed.
"That way. About twenty minutes."
"Great."
I took another bite, then put the rest of the sandwich back on the blanket.
Before leaving, I grabbed a few strawberries and stuffed them in my pocket.
"For the road."
Well, that wasn't the smoothest interaction.
With strawberries in my pocket and a plan finally clear, I started walking… which turned into a jog… which turned into running.
A city.
Finally, I'd get home, eat real food, and use a proper toilet.
A toilet.
The thought excited me more than it probably should have, and before I knew it, I was sprinting, jumping over roots, dodging branches, almost laughing to myself.
I saw a gate.
Good news.
I accelerated even more, focused only on it. On relief. On the smell of civilization. On the fact that I'd sleep in a real bed tonight.
Something grabbed my hood out of nowhere.
I didn't see where it came from. Just felt the sudden, brutal tug. The world flipped upside down, and the next instant, I slammed into the ground hard.
"Fuck! You son of a—"
Before I could finish, a heavy boot pressed into my chest, pinning me down.
"Stay down," a voice growled above me.
I tried to lift my head, but the pressure increased on purpose.
Guards.
"Hey, hey—calm down," I said, raising my hands slowly. "I was just coming in."
A spear pressed near my face.
"Running toward the gate," another guard said. "Without announcing entry. Coming from the forest."
"Where else would I come from?" I retorted. "Not sure if you noticed, but this village is in the middle of nowhere."
Silence.
The boot pressed harder.
"Funny guy," the guard said. "Still, rules are rules."
I lifted my head a little, even with the boot still pressing.
"Look, guards…" I started, trying to sound calm. "I know you're just doing your jobs. Really."
The guard didn't move.
"But if you knew who I am," I continued, "you wouldn't be doing this."
Silence for a second.
The spear guard tilted his head.
"Oh yeah?" he asked. "And who are you?"
I exhaled slowly, like I was too tired to care.
"Whitley Schnee."
For half a second, nobody reacted.
Then—
They both burst out laughing.
A loud, sincere laugh, echoing near the gate.
"Good one!" one said, still laughing. "That was good."
"Whitley Schnee?" the other repeated, nearly doubling over. "The Schnee Dust Company kid?"
"If you're him, I'm James Ironwood!"
"Dude, you know he's dead, right?" said the boot guard.
"What—NO!" I protested immediately. "I'm not dead!"
The laughter only got worse.
"Or missing," the spear guard added, wiping a tear from his eye. "Same thing."
"Do you have any idea how offensive that is?" I snapped. "I'm literally talking to you right now."
The boot guard pressed a little harder.
"Calm down, 'Mr. Schnee," he said, laughing. "If you're Whitley Schnee, why are you here, all beaten up, alone, looking like just another forest lunatic?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
"…Okay, fair point."
I looked at myself: torn clothes, dirt, dried blood, crushed strawberries in my pocket.
"But, for your information," I continued, "stuff happened."
They didn't look convinced.
I sighed, annoyed.
"Alright. Last try."
I reached up and pulled my hood back completely.
White hair fell freely, with no gel, looking dirty and completely messy.
"See?" I said, pointing at myself. "This isn't normal. Schnee family. Genetics, dude."
The guards leaned in a little, inspecting.
One made a face.
"…So what?" he asked.
"What?" I snapped. "What do you mean, 'so what'?"
The other crossed his arms.
"Half the people in Remnant have colored hair," he said. "White, blue, green, purple… we've seen it all."
The spear guard shook his head.
"I don't know, Rick…"
He pointed his spear at me.
"…Looks fake."
"What! Fake is your mom, that bitch!"
I was already annoyed—and, in my defense, they clearly didn't want to hear the truth.
"…Alright," said the boot guard, in a dangerously calm tone. "Lift him up."
"Wait—"
They grabbed my arms and yanked me hard.
"Hey! Hey! Let go!" I shouted, being dragged. "It was just a comment!"
"Comment accepted," said the spear guard. "Now get out."
They threw me toward the woods.
I hit the ground, rolled, and ended up smashing straight into a dry bush, branches scratching my clothes and face before I landed on the dirt.
"Entry denied," said the guard, emotionless. "Back to the forest."
The gate slammed shut with a metallic CLANG!
Assholes.
"Shit!"
I took a step forward and punched the first solid thing I saw—a big rock, planted in the ground.
Pain hit instantly. Sharp. Up my arm.
But my aura reacted almost at the same time, softening the impact at the limit, and the rock cracked, splitting in two with a dry snap.
I pulled my hand back with a low curse, shaking my fingers.
"Fuck…"
I looked at the pieces scattered on the ground.
Aura…
A slow smile formed, despite the throbbing pain in my hand.
I had an idea.
I stepped out of the forest, brushing dirt off my clothes, and saw the two guards still posted at the gate—arms crossed, clearly satisfied with themselves.
I gave them a short smile, just to annoy them, and turned my back as if I'd accepted defeat.
I circled through the forest, moving low and quiet, until I was far enough from the gate.
After a few minutes, the vegetation opened, and something solid appeared between the trees.
A wall.
Tall, light-colored stone, running along the edge of the city. No guards. No movement.
I got closer, looked up, and a smile spread across my face.
"I'm a genius."
I closed my eyes and tried to call my aura.
When I opened them, I was already covered in a thin blue shimmer.
Wow… It came fast… maybe I really am a genius.
I tried to focus all my aura into my legs.
I flexed my legs and launched myself.
The wall went by too fast.
I only had time to think, "I'm so dumb," before hitting the ground.
I landed in three points—a knee on the ground, a fist dug into the dirt, the other leg extended behind me.
A superhero landing.
Silence.
For half a second, I felt amazing.
The next second—
Pain exploded.
"FUCK!"
My knee screamed. My fist vibrated as if I'd punched steel. The aura absorbed the blunt impact but worked no miracles.
I heard something snap.
It didn't break.
But it came too close.
My body shook, my arm failed, and I fell to the side, groaning on the hard dirt.
"Why…" I growled through clenched teeth, hugging my knee, "Do heroes do this like it's comfortable?"
I stayed there a few seconds, breathing heavily, waiting for the pain to stop trying to kill me.
I got up slowly, limping.
I looked back at the wall.
"…Worth it," I lied to myself.
I straightened, ignoring the throbbing knee.
And then…
I walked with all the dignity I could muster—toward the nearest public bathroom.