The breeze moved tree leaves through the forest. Peter hid on top of a tree, looking sharply at Ren running toward him, waiting for the right moment. Drips of sweat fell from his golden hair. His brown eyes quickly moved and scanned like a hunter analyzing the prey's movement—Ren, his target, ran swiftly yet loudly. Peter tightened his grip on the last weapon he had, waiting for the perfect moment. Ren stopped near his position, and Peter knew it was time, but something was different, something out of the ordinary—Ren was just standing there. Tension reached its highest. Peter sweated and wiped over and over, and it was not out of fatigue nor the weather, but because of past experiences and trauma. Carrying the last dagger made him feel more naked than ever. Pressure was indeed a strange thing. Ren turned around after momentarily standing for a minute and left running. Peter was left stunned and conflicted—after all the scenarios he made in his head vanished, and this was not one of them. He gasped and rested his head on the tree as more questions filled that void.
Ren sprinted toward the village with tremendous speed, a faint smile crept onto his face, born of fragile hope. He reached the village and stopped, panting, then started walking like nothing happened. He passed the greeting old man and headed toward his mother. She turned to him. "Ren?" surprised, as they embraced each other. She held his hand and guided him toward the house. They both entered. Ren closed the door instantly and locked it, then sat smiling. She turned, smiling, but then looked at him confused. "Ren, why did you lock the door?"
Ren said, "Don't worry. So?"
His mother smiled awkwardly. "So what?"
Ren's smile shrank. "I'm here. I came to see you."
His mother said, "Oh yes, I really missed you. I'll get you something to eat—you must be hungry and tired?"
Ren's mood shifted instantly, and he got angry. "What was I thinking trusting you? I should've just killed you." He started walking slowly toward her, hand shaking.
"Ren, what's wrong? Tell me. Is something bothering you?"
Ren, with his hand trembling, scratched the side of his head, staring eyes red and exhausted. "You told me to come see you. Now that I'm here, you pretend not knowing what I'm talking about. I had to sleep again just to reset this nightmare." He tried to grab her neck. She quickly held his hand and put her hand on his chest, whispering in his ear, "How many times we met?"
Ren's eyes opened widely upon hearing it. The shaking and trembling stopped, and he whispered back, "It's the second time."
She whispered as her voice changed. "Then it's not too late. Come with me."
She took him upstairs to the room, closed the door. "Ren, come help me clean under the bed," she said, purposefully yelling, and turned to Ren, waving with her hand while moving her lips as if to follow her lead.
"Okay, I'm coming," said Ren, matching her tone, as she dragged him toward the bed. She got on her knees and went under it. Ren, confused more than ever, followed her. He looked under, and she wasn't there, so he slipped in, wondering where she went. As soon as he was under the bed, he was swallowed by the floor into a black pit. He closed his eyes, falling, then a hand touched his face. He instantly opened his eyes, and he was just standing, not falling. He followed the hand—it was the red-haired woman holding a candle. He looked around: pitch black, endless because somehow the light didn't reach its corners. "Sit," she said while sitting herself. Ren, shocked at where the chair came from, looked behind him—there was a chair. As he sat, he turned back—there was somehow a table in front. Ren, now speechless, had more questions than answers. The woman put the candle on the table. "Whatever you do, don't close your eyes. This is the point of no return."
Ren's eyes opened; he nodded but shook his head. "Wait, what?"
"Keep your voice low. You already drew his attention," she said quietly.
Ren was overwhelmed by thoughts. "Who are you talking about?"
She looked at the candle, sadness filling her eyes, and with a heavy heart said, "My son."
Ren shifted his eyes to the side. "Your son? What do you mean? Is this some kind of twisted..."
Before he finished, she interrupted. "No, no—he's just a child. It's not his fault."
Ren leaned back, surprised. "A child? A child made me suffer this repeated nightmare?"
She raised her hands, trying to calm him. "Wait, I'll explain what's going on, but first I need to explain what happened." She rubbed her hand against the other, then drew a deep breath. "I don't know how much time has passed outside, but it all began four years ago when my son just turned two..."
As she spoke, the darkness around them started to fade, overlaid by light. Ren stood watching the bright light taking shape—a child in a crib appeared like a vision, so vivid and real. Ren looked at her, noticing she closed her eyes, and realized this might be her memories. He sat back, just listening and watching.
It all began four years ago when my son just turned two. Although he was born premature, he was healthy but weaker and smaller for his age. Around that time, he became very ill, struggling to breathe with fever and trembling. Children rarely get sick. His father and I didn't know what to do—it was during chimera waves, so travel was limited, and we feared he might be taken from us if we went to the city. His father decided to travel south to find a healer or a scholar or anyone who knew about his condition. I asked him to take our other son with him—he was five years old, and I feared the illness might pass on to him. If it had already passed, he would have a better chance.
She wiped her tears, interrupting the memory flow. Ren turned to her and held her hand. "It's alright. I know it's hard, but you have to continue."
She nodded and continued, pushing through the emotional memories. "Months passed. There were no news of my husband and son. Worried and scared, I just hoped for their well-being. My other child was still struggling. I stayed by his side as he fought through it all day and night. Our village people helped me with food and herbs as much as they could. When the waves subsided, travelers came through our village. Their arrival assured people within the village that the far eastern territories were still alive. One day, a man came to our village—he was a scholar passing by. He asked the village if there were ill or injured people so he might be able to treat them. No sooner he came knocking at my door. At first, I thought my husband sent him, but no—he was just a traveler. So I brushed it off and took him to my son. He saw his condition, and his face said it all. I crumbled, lost all strength, started weeping—but his words changed it as he said there was a way to save him, and it required a certain law to be breached..."
She stopped for a moment, just silent. Ren waited as her demeanor showed signs of fear. She continued, "He said to break the Rubicon..."
She got interrupted by Ren saying, "The Rubicon?" , then whispered to himself "what's a Rubicon ? " .
She opened her eyes, ending the memory with darkness swallowing the light back, surrounding them. "You don't know what the Rubicon is?" she asked.