The stars had faded by the time the adventurer reached the bottom of the hill.
Morning light touched the earth gently. The wind moved through the grass, as if whispering things only the world could understand. But the adventurer didn't understand. Not yet.
He walked.
Each step felt unfamiliar. Like borrowing a path that wasn't made for him. His body moved, but his heart was still catching up. With every village he passed, every river crossed, a single thought echoed quietly inside:
Who am I?
The world didn't answer.
It simply kept turning.
By midday, the adventurer reached a quiet road with no signposts. A fork. One path curved toward a forest, the other followed a small stream toward a quiet town in the distance.
He stood still.
Something in his chest ached.
Not pain… but emptiness.
Choosing a road shouldn't be so hard. But when you don't know who you are, every choice feels like a test.
In the end, he chose the stream. Not because he knew what waited there, but because the sound of water felt soft. Safe.
The town was small. Houses made of stone and wood. Windows open to the breeze. People smiled as he passed, but they didn't ask for his name. They didn't know he had none.
At the edge of the village was a well. The adventurer sat beside it, letting the wind wash over his face.
An old woman approached. Her hands were rough, but her eyes were kind.
"You look like someone searching," she said.
He looked at her, unsure how to answer.
"You don't have to tell me," she said gently. "Sometimes, we don't need answers right away. Sometimes… it's enough to keep walking."
She handed him a small piece of bread. Warm. Fresh.
And then she left.
The adventurer didn't eat it right away. He just held it, feeling the warmth in his hands.
He wondered…
Had someone once done this for him?
Had he ever laughed with someone?
Loved someone?
Been someone?
That night, he didn't sleep in a bed. He sat under the tree near the well and looked at the stars again.
They were the same ones.
Watching. Waiting.
"I'll keep walking," he whispered.
"I don't know who I am yet… but I'll find out."
And the stars shimmered, just a little.
Like they were listening.
Morning turned to afternoon.
The town slowly came to life. Children ran through the narrow paths, chasing each other's laughter. Merchants shouted friendly greetings. The bakery's sweet scent floated through the air.
And still, the adventurer sat beside the well.
The bread had grown cold in his hand, but he held onto it like a memory. Like a reason.
Then, a sound reached his ears.
Crying.
Soft, broken sobs, coming from behind the well.
He stood and quietly stepped around the stone wall.
There, curled up beneath a patch of ivy, was a little girl.
Her dress was torn. Her feet were muddy. Her hands covered her face, but her sobs were clear.
He didn't know what to say.
He crouched beside her, slowly offering the piece of bread.
The girl peeked through her fingers. She looked at him with wide eyes, still glistening with tears.
For a moment, she hesitated.
Then, carefully, she took the bread. Her fingers trembled.
"I… I lost my brother," she said in a shaky voice. "We came to town to find medicine. But when I turned around… he was gone."
The adventurer didn't move.
He simply listened.
Because that's all he could do.
"I waited… and waited…" she said, biting her lip. "But he never came back."
The adventurer looked toward the edge of the town. The forest path he didn't take.
His eyes narrowed.
Without saying a word, he stood.
The girl looked up at him.
"You're going to find him?"
He nodded once.
She clutched the bread tightly and whispered, "Thank you…"
He walked.
Back through the village.
Past the stream.
Toward the path he'd left behind.
The forest was quiet.
Not peaceful, but too still. The birds weren't singing. The leaves didn't rustle.
Something wasn't right.
He moved carefully.
Not because he was strong, but because something inside him told him to be careful. Like a shadow of instinct, left behind by the person he used to be.
And then… he found him.
A boy. No older than ten. Trapped in a hunter's snare, hanging from a tree branch, too high to climb down.
His leg was bleeding.
He was shaking.
When he saw the adventurer, his eyes widened. "Help… please!"
The adventurer searched the nearby brush. A broken stick. A vine. A plan.
He worked quietly, climbing halfway up a tree and swinging the vine to wrap the branch. It wasn't easy. His hands slipped. His breath was uneven. But he didn't stop.
Finally, the trap loosened, and the boy fell safely into his arms.
"Your sister's waiting," the adventurer said softly.
The boy stared at him.
"You're not from here, are you?"
The adventurer only smiled, faintly.
Together, they returned to town.
And when the siblings saw each other again, the girl ran into his arms, crying louder than before, but this time, with joy.
The adventurer stood at a distance, watching.
His heart felt… strange.
Not full.
But not empty, either.
Later that night, as the stars returned to the sky, the boy and girl found him again.
She handed him something.
A red ribbon.
"Our mama gave it to me," she said. "But I want you to have it. So you don't forget."
He didn't know what to say.
He just took it, quietly tying it around his wrist.
A simple red thread.
But it felt heavier than it looked.
That night, he didn't sit by the well.
He walked through the sleeping town.
Out to the open road.
The wind was cold.
But he didn't stop.
Because somewhere in his heart, something had changed.
He still had no name.
No past.
No purpose.
But now…
He had a direction.
And a ribbon around his wrist that reminded him..
Even a nameless stranger could matter.
Even someone lost… could be found.
And so, the adventurer walked again.
Toward the unknown.
Toward himself.