In the quiet afternoon, Karma sat peacefully staring at the river flowing beneath his dangling feet. He wanted to dive in and let the current take him wherever it was going, so he wouldn't have to bear the trouble of thinking where he should go next—or perhaps where he could even go. After all, there was nowhere left for him now.
He reached down, placing his hand in the cool flowing stream of water. He felt it as the water passed through his fingers and, for some reason, found quite some happiness in what he was doing. A small smile formed on his face, unknown to him—the first he'd managed in weeks.
Three days since the burning. Three days of walking without purpose, without destination.
Then he felt something brush against his finger. Something was tied to it. He leaned in to see what it was and saw what seemed like a thin silver chain with a black gem attached. He tried to look closer, but suddenly two hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him back.
"Get back, little girl, you might fall in there!" a female voice said as she pulled him toward her, making him stand on his feet.
He stumbled back into her, his bare, soaked feet slipping slightly against the rocky ground. He looked up at her in surprise.
It was a woman with sharp eyes and long silver hair that seemed to catch the afternoon sunlight like polished metal. She wore simple traveling clothes, but the way she carried herself spoke of someone accustomed to being obeyed. A sword hung at her hip—not ornamental, but well-used.
She looked him over, pausing as her gaze dropped to his body.
Wounds. Cuts. Scars. His left hand was badly burned, the skin red and blistered.
A flicker of something—shock? worry?—passed over her face.
"Are you alright?" she asked, steadying him with one hand, her voice softer now.
He nodded silently, clutching the silver chain tightly in his palm.
"What happened to you?" Her eyes scanned the horizon, as if searching for whoever might have hurt him.
"Nothing," he muttered, backing away slightly.
Then, as if correcting her assumption, he added, "Not a girl... boy."
Her eyes widened slightly as she took a better look at his face—soft, delicate, with long, tangled hair—he did resemble a girl at first glance. The confusion was common, but it still stung.
She didn't press further about his injuries. Instead, she simply held his arm and said, "Come. You're hurt. Those burns need treatment before they fester."
As they walked together, Shizuku kept glancing at the boy beside her. His small frame, the burns, the scars—he didn't say much, but the silence around him spoke volumes. She'd seen that empty look before, in the eyes of survivors. Whatever had happened to him was recent.
"Where did you come from?" she asked gently, keeping her pace slow so he could keep up. She needed information if she was to help him—or determine if he posed any danger.
He didn't respond. Just stared forward while holding what he'd found in his hand, his face unreadable.
"Did something happen? To your family?" she pressed, her voice soft but persistent.
Still nothing. Just the sound of footsteps and the river in the distance.
She knelt down in front of him, blocking his path, trying once more. "What's your name, at least? I'm Shizuku Anrakusa."
There was a long pause. Then, in a faint, almost broken whisper— "Karma."
He turned and began to walk again, barefoot, aimless. She followed, not saying anything for a while, just watching him. Her mind raced with possibilities. A refugee? An orphan from one of the border villages? The Empire had been expanding aggressively in recent months, burning and claiming territory along the disputed regions, she personally led a group to escort the scout division and gather intelligence while ensuring the safety of any survivors.
After a few moments, she spoke again. "You should come with me."
He stopped. "No." The first sign of defiance.
"Do you have somewhere to go?" She needed to know if someone was waiting for him.
He stayed quiet... then shook his head.
"Then come with me," she said, this time more gently. "You can have a home. My company is camped nearby. We have healers who can tend to those burns."
He glanced at her with tired eyes. "Isn't that the place we're born in? Home?"
She shook her head. "No. A house is just walls and a roof. A home... is something we build with people we care about. It's made of love."
He looked away again, the pain behind his expression cracking through. "It doesn't matter where I go. It's all meaningless... no matter what I learned, or what I knew. It never mattered. I couldn't change anything that happened to me." His hands trembled as he spoke, and she noticed that he was gripping something tightly in his palm—the silver chain he'd found in the water.
She didn't flinch. Her voice was steady. "That's not true. If we're born with life, then we're meant to live it. What you've been through doesn't define you. What you learn along the way... even if it doesn't help now, it will matter one day."
He murmured, as if repeating it to convince himself— "It matters..."
She gave a small nod and reached up to pat his head. "Yeah, it does." Her touch was gentle, almost maternal, despite her warrior's hands.
Then he looked at her face—really looked—his cheeks warmed slightly. His gaze wandered up to her long, flowing silver hair.
"What was your name again, pretty lady?" he mumbled.
She smiled softly. "Shizuku."
He blinked. "You have... beautiful hair."
She let out a light giggle—sweet and soft like the breeze, her eyes glinting with warmth. "Thank you, Karma." She hadn't laughed in a long time. Not since before the last campaign. Not since she'd given the order that cost so many of her soldiers their lives.
He looked down shyly, kicking a pebble with his bare foot. The awkward silence between them wasn't uncomfortable—it was soft, gentle. Like something fragile just beginning to grow.
They began walking side by side, this time with a destination in mind: her company's camp. Shizuku glanced at him from time to time, noticing the small limp in his step, the way he winced occasionally from the wounds on his legs and burnt arm. She felt a surge of anger toward whoever had hurt this child.
She finally said, "You're really strong, you know that?"
Karma frowned. "I'm just surviving."
"Sometimes, surviving is the strongest thing a person can do." She knew this truth better than most. She'd survived when many hadn't, carried the weight of command when others fell.
He didn't reply, but his silence wasn't cold—it felt like the words reached somewhere deep inside.
The trail began to wind through a grove of trees. Shizuku pulled out a small water flask from her satchel and handed it to him. "Here, drink. We've still got a ways to go."
He stared at it suspiciously.
"It's not poisoned, I promise." she teased, then took a sip herself to prove it.
He took it, sipped slowly, then handed it back with a simple, "Thanks."
As they walked, she hummed a soft tune—an old battle hymn, but slowed and gentled. Karma listened quietly, the melody washing over him like a lullaby. It reminded him of something—maybe his mother's voice, maybe a dream, maybe nothing at all. But it made his chest ache in a way he couldn't explain.
After a while, he asked, "Why are you helping me?"
She looked at him with those calm, storm-grey eyes. "Because someone once helped me when I was lost too." Images flashed through her mind—a person that carried her to save her from her near death experience. A debt she could never repay to the dead.
He blinked, unsure how to respond, but something in her words resonated. Perhaps they were more alike than he knew.
They walked on until the sun began to dip below the trees, painting the sky with gold and violet. In the distance, smoke from campfires rose among trees, and the sounds of voices and horses could be heard.
"That's our camp," Shizuku said, pointing. "We're the knight of a kingdom." She paused, then added, "We're heading north in the morning, away from the Empire's expansion. The job we had is over."
Karma stopped, suddenly hesitant. Meeting strangers, going north... it wasn't what he'd planned. But then, he hadn't planned anything beyond letting the river take him.
He opened his palm, finally looking at what he'd found—the silver chain with the black gem. In the dimming light, the gem seemed to swirl with inner darkness, like ink in water.
"What's that?" Shizuku asked, noticing it for the first time.
"I don't know," Karma said truthfully. "But... it called to me. From the river."
She frowned slightly, leaning closer to examine it. "That looks like nightstone. Rare. Valuable." Her eyes narrowed. "And dangerous in the wrong hands."
Karma closed his fingers around it again. "I want to keep it."
Shizuku nodded slowly. "We'll show it to our mage when we reach camp. She might know more about it." She didn't push further, respecting his attachment to the find.
After a moment, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Let's get you treated at the camp first, then we'll figure this out. One step at a time."
Karma nodded, taking a deep breath as he looked toward the camp. He wasn't sure what awaited him there, or what this strange gem might mean. But for the first time in days, he felt something beyond despair—a tiny spark of curiosity about what might come next.
As they approached the camp, Shizuku raised a hand in greeting to the sentries. "I'm bringing in a guest," she called.