1. The Village

The aged door of the decrepit shack groaned painfully as it reluctantly swung open, revealing a boy of around twelve years old, though his appearance defied his true age. Frail and undersized, with a cascade of curly black hair falling to his shoulders, he hardly resembled his years. His glassy grey eyes surveyed the landscape, cloaked in the night's snowfall, and struggled to discern the path leading to the nearby village. His young mind calculated the duration since his father's departure, holding onto the belief that his return was imminent.

"Big brother!" a small voice called out, clinging to his leg like an octopus. His initial instinct tempted him to shake off the persistent grasp, but he remembered his mother's insistence, urging him to be patient and gentle with his little sister. Crouching down, he carefully removed her hold, keeping her at arm's length. "You will leave me alone, got it?" he told her.

With a nod of understanding, the young girl was returned to the shelter of their home. Armed with an iron bucket and a trowel, the boy ventured into the snow-covered landscape, searching for the freshest snow to collect. Meanwhile, his mother wielded her magical abilities behind the shack, cultivating her garden as if it were the heart of spring. It was here that he'd first discovered his peculiar powers, allowing him to manipulate time and teleport through a hazy space he called "the mist." His parents remained unaware of this hidden talent, but an inquisitive sibling seemed to have a hint and persistently sought access to his mysterious realm.

"Eizan, do you have them?" his mother inquired, her voice tinged with concern, as she wiped away snowflakes from her face. Her ability to move silently was uncanny, and her hazel eyes narrowed as she glimpsed the unusual shadows beneath her son. The soft morning sun seemed insufficient to cast such deep shadows. Her gaze drifted involuntarily to the path leading to the village, causing her to shudder involuntarily. "That's enough; you can come inside now," she urged.

Eizan nodded and effortlessly balanced the bucket on his knee before lifting it onto his head. In a separate path leading to the nearby forest, a man emerged carrying a heavy backpack. "Papa!" the little girl exclaimed, rushing out of the house, followed by their mother. Quietly, Eizan returned to the house, heading straight for the kitchen to melt the snow.

Once inside, his mother spoke to his father, voicing her concerns about Eizan's multiple attempts to reach the village in the past month. Her voice held a sense of unease. His father gently placed the young girl on the floor, she ran to the kitchen and immediately clung to his leg, once again. Their mother retrieved a frozen chicken, vegetables, a small bag of flour, and beef jerky, which she gave to the little girl to chew on, from the backpack. As for the remaining contents, they remained a mystery as she carried the backpack back to the sitting room.

Eizan proceeded to defrost the chicken and chop the vegetables for a broth. Simultaneously, he kneaded the flour into dough as the little girl assisted in heating the oven, proving surprisingly helpful when she decided to release her hold on his leg.

In the midst of their meal preparation, his mother whispered in a hushed tone, "The seal is weakening," to which his father responded with a grunt.

"It has been fading, but what's different now?"

A prolonged silence followed his question, and Eizan realized that his mother was on her way to the kitchen. The door was gently pushed ajar, revealing her hazel eyes that were so unlike his own. She cast a fleeting glance around the kitchen before returning to the sitting room, leaving the door slightly open.

"The first one has vanished," his mother revealed, and they both fell into silence. In that moment, Eizan opened a nearby cupboard, discovering their rice supply had been depleted. It seemed he would have to make do with bread. Their conversation continued until he finished cooking, and the little girl had once again attached herself to his leg. Glancing at his father, he noticed him studying a piece of paper, bearing an unusual flower stamp at the bottom. However, before he could read further, his father summoned fire and swiftly incinerated the document.

Eizan observed the exchange between his parents as they turned their gaze toward him. His mother lightly drummed her fingers on the table, and his father's left eye twitched, a clear sign of their anxiety. They only exhibited such behavior in moments of distress. Eizan set the table and adjusted the little girl who had resumed her attempts to gnaw on his trousers. His father, however, did not touch his meal.

"Do I have a choice?" Eizan replied when his father asked if he wanted to accompany him back to town. He began eating, albeit with the little girl still clinging to his leg, crying out at each bite of chicken she missed.

"No," his father replied.

"Then I will come with," Eizan answered, feeding a piece of chicken to the girl, who responded with a triumphant grin. His parents exchanged a look, and his mother fetched two food flasks, placing them carefully inside his father's backpack. They finally enjoyed their meal, and once they had finished eating, Eizan shouldered the backpack, preparing to accompany his father.

However, before they departed, his mother called out to them. Eizan looked down, realizing the child was once again attached to his leg—how and when she'd arrived there was a mystery. His mother unclasped her necklace, removed the ring attached to it, and handed it to him, and grabbed the child who flailed her little hands in tears. "Keep it with you at all times and keep it safe, understand?" his mother instructed.

Eizan nodded and examined the ring; engraved upon it was the same mysterious flower he had noticed on that paper. He slipped the ring into his pocket and waved to the child as she cried for her 'big brother.'

The path they followed led them through the forest that separated their village from the outside world. His father held his hand, a gesture Eizan did not particularly appreciate but did not resist. Lost in thought, both father and son ventured into the forest, unaware that the path behind them was vanishing without a trace. When Eizan regained awareness, they were already halfway through the dense woods. In just a quarter of an hour, they emerged from the forest, stepping onto a well-paved cobblestone road that led to a sprawling city perched lazily at its borders. The only companions they had were the billowing winds and intermittent silences that accompanied them on their journey. Bypassing the bustling main streets, they navigated a quieter route, leading to the city's outskirts. There stood a walled mansion, its single entry and exit route guarded by a vigilant watchmen.

A guard and a middle-aged man, slightly hunched, emerged from the mansion as they approached. The man nodded to his father before turning toward Eizan.

"Be good," his father advised.

"I always am," Eizan replied, eliciting a smile from his father. A reassuring pat on the back followed, and he observed in silence as his father walked away, eventually vanishing in the city's clamor, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the bustling city and snow.

The middle-aged man guided Eizan into the mansion, and as he witnessed the gates slide shut behind them, a sense of unease crept over him. It was as if this place might hold him captive indefinitely.

Lord Goto scrutinized the documents scattered across his study table. On the far left, untouched and gathering dust, lay unopened letters from his adopted niece in the Tower. One would assume that such a brilliant student, apprenticed to the best, though eccentric, elder in the Tower, would be held in high regard. However, the opposite was true.

The entire study was in disarray, with books strewn haphazardly and dirty eating utensils collecting dust and cobwebs in every corner. It was clear that Lord Goto was not a tidy individual. A knock on the door shattered his fragile concentration.

"What is it?" he snapped irritably.

"Councilman Maverick is here," a servant replied.

"Take him to the drawing room," he instructed, grumbling inwardly about the state of his study. A man of sophistication should receive guests in his study, but his unreliable servants clearly thought otherwise, refusing to clean his study. It seemed he had forgotten his strict prohibition against entering his study, even for cleaning.

"But… there's something else, my lord," the servant hesitated.

"Out with it!" he snapped impatiently.

"An eight-year-old boy was brought to the mansion today."

"Can't you handle such matters without involving me?" Lord Goto exclaimed as he hurried out the door toward the sitting room. If only he had exercised a bit more patience, he might have noticed Eizan standing behind the servant, looking around with curiosity, resembling a doll with a loose head.

Sighing, the servant settled him in the servant quarters, assigning him the task of cleaning the floors and reachable windows immediately. Eizan was handed a rag and a bucket of water, tasked with cleaning Lord Goto's study. The pungent odor emanating from that room had prompted their reluctance to clean it themselves, and now Eizan had become the scapegoat. Meanwhile, Lord Goto, despite the winter chill, was on the verge of perspiring heavily. His anxiety stemmed from Councilman Maverick's sudden interest in his younger daughter, Esumi, who appeared to attract misfortune compared to her more illustrious twin, Bachiko. Fortunately, Esumi remained oblivious to the councilman's intentions, and Lord Goto resolved to keep her out of his sight during future visits.

"How are the negotiations progressing?" the man inquired once Esumi left the room, and Lord Goto heaved a sigh of relief. He could handle business matters. "Not well," he admitted. The councilman's proposal required commoners to relinquish their land without any alternative accommodations, which naturally led to their aggressive response to the Council's demands. As a middle-class merchant of no notable reputation, Lord Goto found himself entangled in this mess at the hands of the councilman.

"We want results, not excuses, Lord Goto," the councilman remarked, smiling. Lord Goto desperately wanted to wipe that smile off the councilman's face, but instead, he merely used a handkerchief to wipe away the nonexistent sweat from his own brow. After more posturing, the councilman departed, leaving Lord Goto feeling irritated and ready to vent his frustration on someone or something.

Unfortunately for Eizan, the door to the study was slightly ajar, and he was within Lord Goto's line of sight. Fuming with anger, Lord Goto rushed into the room and found the boy on his knees cleaning. He seized a discarded broom from the floor and smacked it against the boy's back, earning a sharp intake of breath. Without hesitation, he ejected the boy from the study and forbade him from having dinner.

Eizan had never been subjected to such treatment. While his parents often expressed frustration over his actions or his treatment of the younger child, they had never laid a hand on him. Massaging his sore back, Eizan retreated to the cramped cupboard he called his room, met with sympathetic and mocking gazes. He retrieved one of the food flasks to have his dinner.

As he began to eat, an approaching footstep caught his attention. He saw a girl approaching with a curious expression on her face, her luxurious attire revealing her as the daughter of Lord Goto or someone of similar status. The girl lifted his face with a finger, her expression souring.

"I heard Father forbid you from having dinner. What do you think you're doing, eating?"

She kicked over the food flask, spilling its contents on the floor, and recoiled in disgust.

"Clean that up!" she commanded.

"Bachiko! Come!" someone called for the girl, prompting her to step back slightly. With one last scathing look at Eizan, she turned on her heel and sprinted out of the servants' quarters. Eizan gazed at the spilled food on the floor, and for a moment, his shadows thickened, as if attempting to take a corporeal form, before dissipating. Sighing, he stood up and began the task of cleaning up the mess. His thoughts returned to his younger sister, who seemed to occupy his mind more than expected..