Asim was sitting on the porch of his tiny wooden shack, silently watching as the sun rose slowly in the sky as it wrapped its warm light on the village of Riverwind down of the verdant hills. He listened to the leaves rustling in the wind as the burbling of the river passed near his home. The stream ran down the mountains and split the village in half. He could perceive the hatch and tiles roofs of the houses of Riverwind slightly hidden behind the dense foliage of the forest. 

Not many people visited this township. It was a quiet and peaceful place. People here were content with their calm lifestyle as they would always help one another. However, the village did receive some travelers, mostly adventurers from the Adventurers' Guild, that would come to do quests in the area. It was rare, but the villagers would almost see them as an attraction whenever one would come. 

The only other people that would come to this quiet and secluded village would be the traders, as the leading economy was the wood trade. In fact, most of the villagers were lumberjacks.

Asim gazed down at the village. He could see the early workers getting out of the comfort of their home, kissing their spouses goodbye for the day. 

As he watched them disappear into the forest of large pine and oak trees, his lips made a faint smile. This place was so peaceful, he felt that it couldn't be real. Although, the slight smile he had vanished away as fast as it came. He closed his eyes, breathing in the fresh air of the summer morning as the smell of pine, fresh grass, and the bright violet flowers from the hills filled his nostrils. The air was warm, and the first rays of the sun started to brush on his dark bronze skin. He then opened his teal eyes back as the light slightly blinded him. 

However, Asim felt tired. He wasn't able to sleep last night as like many other nights before. The nightmares haunted him, and every time he tried to close his eyes, the memories would come back. Even if he didn't want them, they kept crawling in, waiting, as to remind him of his past constantly, to make sure he would never forget. 

At this point, he had just given up on sleep and instead focused on what he could do to help the villagers. He had to keep his mind occupied. Staying here, alone all day, was worse than the nightmares. But he also felt he deserved that torment.

Frankly, he didn't even know what he was doing here. It was the only place far away enough for him from the Harsh, and people accepted him here even if he was a Kovari. So he was grateful, in a way, to have found a peaceful place to stay, but he also felt like he didn't deserve any of this.

Every day, he would wait for the sun to rise, and every day, he would get prepared and go down to the village to do his work as he had been doing for a year now. The villagers didn't know who, or rather what he was. It made things a little bit easier for him. He was far away enough from the Harsh so that people wouldn't know what he was hiding under the bandages around his left wrist. 

However, he could see that some of them, even after a year, didn't really trust him. After all, he was a stranger, a Kovari from the desert kingdom. He didn't blame them; he felt like he deserved that mistrust anyway. But they still accepted him. Asim was doing chores to help the elders, tasks they couldn't do anymore at their old age.

Sometimes, Asim would also help the healer of the township as he had some knowledge that he sadly had to learn the hard way in his past. He mostly helped by healing the wounds of the woodworkers or children that would have cut themself playing around. It happened that some adventurers also needed healing, but it was more uncommon, especially in a small village like Riverwind. His work wasn't the most exciting at times, but he still was happy to help in any way he could, and he found peace in doing so. It gave him a purpose.

Asim sat for a little while, looking at the beautiful dusk that unfolded in front of him. He had seen it many times before, and it still amazed him how much life here was so much more beautiful and undisturbed compared to what he was used to knowing. He wished he had known that sooner… not like it would have changed anything, as he thought to himself. He would still feel that terrible guilt clasping at his heart. Knowing sooner of the real world would not have stopped him from the atrocities he had committed in his past… 

After few more minutes of staring into the scenery in front of him, he finally stood up and headed inside his small home. He turned the knob of his worn-out door; he had to push the door with more strength as the hinges were rusted entirely, and the fact that the shack was uneven didn't help at all. Every time he would open his door, he was almost close to breaking it. He finally managed to fully open it, not without its usual terrible screeching noise that sounded like an animal was agonizing. He thought that he should probably find a way to fix his door as the desire to tear off that damn door sparked in his mind simply.

He entered the shack, even though it was more of a danger than anything at this point, but for Asim, it was his home, and he would simply fix it if need be. 

The place was made of oak wood logs; it had only two rooms and a small upstairs accessible by a ladder on its far-right corner. The upper story was fenced and led to mostly his supplies and stuff stored in rusty barrels and worn crates. The first room was the largest, and it had the kitchen area, a single bed always made on the right corner as a stone fireplace was near it. A tiny square table with two hazardous chairs on each opposite side was positioned not far from the bed. The second room was a small bathroom, and an iron cast bathtub was in the middle of it. 

The shack had only three windows as one was placed on the kitchen area, another in the upstairs, and the last one in the bathroom that allowed the house to get at least some natural lighting. Even though the place looked worn out, it still felt welcoming and Asim made sure that everything was properly cleaned and perfectly tidied as every object were always put in their correct places. It was kind of a way for him to keep his mind occupied, and he always was used to doing that back then anyway. 

Asim went straight to the ladder and fetched his ax that lay inside of one of the crates. He took it and went back out, closing with force the door behind him as it added to the scratches on the wooden floor of the shack. He pulled hard on the knob until it made a loud thud; it almost seemed like the whole house was about to collapse. But Asim was used to his home doing those creepy shakings, and he simply turned his feet and started heading towards the village.

As he walked on the dirt path that led to the township inside the dense forest, he could hear birds chirping all around and the sound of running water nearby. Small animals were also scurrying all over, probably sensing his presence. He was used to mainly hearing rabbits or rodents, but this time, he also heard a deer. He could listen to the grass swishing and small branches faintly cracking under its hooves on the ground. He paused for a moment, listening. There was not just one deer, but two as he kept on walking. 

He should hunt them later. He needed to make more dried meat anyway. He didn't need both of the deer; he only needed half of one. He will give the other half and other deer to the villagers. This would make them happy to have a different kind of meat on their plates than sheep, pigs, or cows.

The sun was now entirely up, and the orange colors of the early morning sky were almost gone. He walked for some time before arriving at the bottom of the hill. There, he saw not too far away, the watermill running as it always did. He heard people getting out of their homes to start their chores of the day. Some mothers were telling their kids to play outside while they would do their tasks as some villagers were already chattering outside, doing their errands, and shopkeepers would prepare their shop for the day. He could smell the alluring scent of freshly baked bread as well as the smell of sizzling bacon being cooked for breakfast. 

Asim entered the village as the path turned from dirt to worn cobblestones and grass. He forked to the right way leading to the first house of his daily tasks. The old lady that lived at this place was a very gentle and caring woman. She would give him fresh vegetables from her garden or freshly baked bread as her son was the baker of Riverwind. Her name was Mrs. Woodrowe; he never knew her first name. He never really asked to be honest, but she seemed this didn't bother her at all. As he arrived at her house, a hand on the fenced door, a female voice called him from behind.