When the boy opened his eyes, he noticed the sun had dipped below the trees, its warm glow fading on the horizon.

Damn it, I wasted too much time! He cursed himself for dragging his feet.

Swiftly, he retrieved a dry cloth from the pouch on his hip, using it to wipe away the blood and grime from his knife blade before resheathing it. Then, he moved to the front of his makeshift sled, tying a rope between the handles to serve as a pull rope. Glancing up at the sky once more, he realized the light was turning a warm amber.

Shit! He cursed again, panic seeping into his tone. At least I'm on the outskirts. It shouldn't take too long to get back to town as long as I don't run into any mishaps. Hopefully. He consoled himself with fake optimism. He never delved too deeply into the forest for fear of losing his way, and he hoped that caution would prove to be his saving grace today. Slapping his face to snap himself out of his depressed mood, he grabbed the pull rope and with quiet determination, began to run back in the direction of the town.

He trudged through the underbrush, his eyes scanning the terrain for any obstacles that might snag his sled. Above, the sky transitioned to a violet hue, signaling the encroaching darkness of night. As the diurnal creatures settled in, the forest's melody shifted, replaced by the haunting sounds of owls hooting, crickets chirping, and trees swaying in the cool night breeze. These eerie noises sent shivers down the boy's spine, heightening his sense of unease. The trees loomed like tall shadowy guards, growing increasingly difficult to navigate around in the fading light. He widened his eyes, pleading for his sight to improve, begging his eyes to adjust, desperate for anything to aid him in traversing the darkening maze.

I'm definitely going to die out here! He cried in his mind, his heartbeat quickening with fear.

Despite his rising trepidation, he urged his legs to move faster, pushing his body to its limits. But even with the lean muscle he had developed from years of physical activity, there was only so much strength a seven-year-old body could muster. His legs and arms began to ache, the toll of an entire day's activity beginning to show on his exhausted muscles. His breathing came in wheezes, deep and labored, as he pushed himself through the overwhelming fatigue.

Just keep running, don't think. Just keep moving. He chanted the mantra in his heart, clinging to it for strength and determination.

He was almost home, the light from the guard post near the town's gate growing brighter with each step.

Just a little bit further, and I'll be at the gate.

His head drooped for a moment as he panted for air, and when he looked up, darkness greeted him, the light from the guard post now a distant memory. Confusion flickered through him briefly before he collided face-first into what felt like an iron wall. The sled showed no mercy, barreling into him from behind and pinning him against the barricade once more. As all the air rushed out of his lungs, he collapsed to the ground in shock, his face in the dirt. For a moment, his body lay still, resembling that of a cripple or, even worse, a corpse. Yet, the terror in his wide eyes, fixed upon the sharp claws of the impossibly large and scaly paws before him, revealed the stark truth—he was still very much alive.

How unfortunate.

Pain surged through him like bolts of lightning, sending waves of excruciating pangs coursing through his body, causing his body to convulse in uncontrollable spasms. It was as if someone had hammered his back and then smashed his face into the pavement for good measure.

With a guttural scream, he clutched at his throbbing face, his back arching as he writhed in anguish. Tears mingled with blood in his trembling palms as he sought any semblance of relief from the relentless agony. Desperation etched deep into his features as he dug his nails into his flesh, hoping to distract his mind from the torment, trading one torture for another.

He rolled in the dirt like a hog, but all efforts seemed futile against the grip of suffering that bound him. In the stillness of the night, there was no reprieve in sight, or so he thought. 

A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying with it a sweet and musky fragrance. The scent wafted through the darkness, reminiscent of fresh mint mingled with the earthy aroma of grass after a summer rain. It enveloped the boy, infusing his senses with warmth and tranquility.

Gradually, his struggles began to wane, his cries diminishing into silence. Like a weary traveler finding respite at the journey's end, he surrendered to the soothing embrace of sleep, guided by the comforting scent that lingered in the night air.

From the darkness, a majestic white fox with long horns extending from its shoulders like the bones of a dragon's wings emerged. With deliberate steps, the creature approached the boy, its movements imbued with an eerie grace. Lowering its snout, it gently sniffed the boy's hair, as if confirming some hidden truth known only to itself.

In the shadows, a soft, high-pitched female voice echoed, reminiscent of a fox's nighttime cries. "Baba, do you wish to rebel, or have you gone senile in your old age?" The fox's lips pulled back, revealing deadly fangs gleaming in the dim light. Its face contorted in an awkward mixture between a contented smile and a menacing growl. "Even someone as ignorant as you should notice the boy is marked by Mother's aura. He is clearly under her protection. You dare to harm someone under her wing, and a child no less. Have you finally lived too long and grown weary of it?"

The fox's questions were met with silence.

"You arrogant bastard! Are you too proud to defend yourself?" The female voice sliced through the night with fury, sharp as a blade. "What message will I bring back to Mother, hmm? Oh, I know, how about this: 'The forest's guardian has lost his mind, savaging all who enter its borders, killing some and leaving others maimed?'" The fox's head nodded towards the severely injured boy as if offering him up as evidence of her words. "How does that sound to you?"

At last, a deep rumbling voice emanated from the rustling leaves of the trees, reminiscent of a lion's low guttural growl. "Boy hurt himself."

"Indeed, I witnessed the boy's clumsiness," the fox's voice carried a biting edge, "but could you truly not have avoided him? You are an adult, while he is a mere child. You wield power, while he is harmless and innocent. Elders must tread carefully, lest they trample the next generation underfoot." With a snap of its jaws, the fox emphasized its point.

"Ask boar if little cub is harmless or innocent," Baba sounded indignantly from the treetops.

"You would harm someone marked by Mother for a useless beast without a bloodline?" the fox asked incredulously.

"I guard forest," Baba's voice rumbled, as if stating an undeniable truth, "I guard Erentir."

The fox shook her head at the hopelessness of the dimwitted guardian, "You just admitted to intentionally antagonizing Mother, you'll be lucky to be living much longer, let alone guarding anything."

Once again, the fox received only silence in response.

"Very well, I'll deliver your answer to Mother," the fox said resignedly, a tinge of empathy coloring her words for the blessed fool. She lowered her head and gently lifted the boy by his tunic, as though he were a wounded pup being carried by the scruff. "I'll take the boy back to the Oathbound," she announced, guiding him over to his sled and laying him down as if he were mere cargo.

"It is against rules to go to village; Oathbound will be angry. Big problem." Baba grumbled from the treetops.

"Considering the circumstances, that's rather amusing coming from you," the fox remarked, a hint of ridicule in her tone. "You do not fear Mother, yet you fear the Oathbound?"

"Mother far, Oathbound near. Future troubles different from present concerns," Baba explained with a tone that suggested it should be obvious to anyone.

"You have the courage of a lion and the heart of a chicken," the fox retorted, her words dripping with sarcasm and admonishment. "Perhaps next time, you'll consider the consequences before seeking vengeance for a brainless beast." With that, she gripped the rope line connecting the handles of the makeshift cart in her teeth and began to drag it toward the light in the distance.

As she dashed through the forest, the cool night air gently caressed her coat, sending delightful shivers down her spine. The forest was at its prime during the night, wrapped in the refreshing scent of crisp air tinged with cedar. It was a time when her senses were heightened, and she felt most attuned to the world around her.

Peeking out from behind the Deva Realm, the divine world of Tendo, the moon cast an ethereal glow over the landscape. Near Byblos, the Deva Realm always loomed in front of the moon during the first hour of the night, veiling the world in near-complete darkness right after dusk. This period marked the exact midpoint between days and the onset of night, hence the term "middle night" or "midnight" in these lands.

It was during this hour that humans were most vulnerable, their senses dulled and their bodies fatigued, rendering them easy prey for creatures of the wild. It was no wonder it was considered taboo for human mortals to venture into the wilderness at this time.

Humans were never the most creative species, she mused, but they aren't foolish. A stray thought reminded her of the child she now carted, and she added, Well, most of them aren't. I must have some fate with this fool. After all, this is the second time I've escorted him out of the forest at night. A vivid memory flashed through her mind—a recollection of a cloaked girl, too young to be called a woman, lying in a pool of blood, handing her a newborn with eyes full of desperation. She shook her head to clear the thought, refocusing on her task. The town was just ahead, she'd have to slip in unnoticed, somehow.

"Mythra!" A call came from the forest's edge.

The fox's ear twitched at the familiar sound, and she grinned, her eyes narrowing into crescent moons.

Problem solved.

She found a secluded spot near the tree line and carefully positioned the sled in the grassland, strategically between the gate and the edge of the forest. "Mythra!" The call echoed once more. After one last glance at the child, she emitted a high-pitched howl in response before swiftly disappearing into the underbrush once more.