Diago sprints through the forest, his sword gripped tightly in his hand, the screams of his sons still ringing in his ears. Branches snap beneath his feet, the ground is heavy and damp. He must be fast.

"Damn it! I can't lose them! Where are they?!" He says, filled with doubt.

As he reaches the clearing, his breath catches. Sota lies unconscious on the ground, his face pale with painful exhaustion.

But the sight that shocks him the most is Shiro. The 7-year-old is bleeding heavily from his arm, his body motionless. 

Diago rushes to Shiro, kneels beside him, sees the blood and knows that every second counts.

He tears a piece of fabric from his shirt and wraps it around Shiro's arm like a pressure bandage.

With a quick glance, he takes in the surroundings. The impact on the rock in front of him, the shattered stones around it and the clear wind trail leading from Sota toward the impact. 

But it doesn't matter what happened. Shiro is bleeding and Sota is unconscious on the ground.

Without hesitation, the father carefully lifts Shiro into his arms. Then he grabs Sota, picks him up as well and makes his way back home. 

The forest suddenly feels like a labyrinth, but his determination drives him forward. After all, this is about his children's lives.

As he reaches the gate, where the mother is waiting anxiously, he shouts. "Quick, take Shiro and Sota inside and treat Shiro's wound! I'm getting a doctor!"

The sight of Shiro shocks the mother, but she tries to stay calm and doesn't hesitate. "Yes!" She replies and follows Diago's instructions.

The mother lays Shiro and Sota on Shiro's bed, as Shiro's room is the closest to the entrance and tries to stop the bleeding on Shiro's arm. 

She knows the doctor must come as soon as possible.

It takes only about ten minutes, but it feels like hours. The father storms into the house with the doctor behind him. 

The mother is still at Shiro's side, desperately trying to save him, but her medical knowledge isn't enough. 

The doctor, an older man with gray hair, immediately steps forward. "Move aside! I'll take care of this!" He says, stressed, and begins examining the boy's wounds.

He treats Shiro's wound with weak healing magic, stopping the bleeding. Finally, he wraps a bandage around Shiro's arm. Then he turns to examine Sota. He finds no wound."Sota is unharmed. He may have lost consciousness from the shock." The doctor explains.

"What about Shiro?" The mother asks, worriedly.

"Shiro got trough the worst. I will go home now, but I will check both of them tomorrow morning again." He replies.

Diago exhales deeply. "Thank you so much, doctor."

"No need to thank me. It is my job." He says, as he leaves.

The hours pass painfully slowly. The candle on the wooden table flickers restlessly. The mother sits by the bed, her hands wrapped around Shiro's cool fingers, while the father stands uneasily by the window. The screams of his sons still echo in his mind.

No one speaks. Only the faint cracking of the fire and the heavy breathing of the children fill the room.

Then, all of a sudden a faint sound. A strangled gasp.

"Shiro!" The mother leans forward hastily. The boy blinks, his eyes weary, his gaze unfocused. 

For a moment, he seems unsure of where he is.

"My boy!" She says, tears in her eyes.

The father sits beside him. "I'm so glad you're okay." His voice is unusually soft, but at the same time, there is also a hint of disappointment in it.

Shiro looks around dizzily. His eyes fall on his arm. A thick, clean bandage is wrapped around it. Then his gaze shifts to Sota, who still lies motionless.

"Why isn't he waking up?!" He tries to sit up, but the sharp pain in his arm stops him.

"Rest, Shiro." His mother says worriedly.

"Sota. he's not human!" His voice is weak and shaky.

The parents exchange a concerned glance. "Shiro, what do you mean?" His father asks cautiously.

The boy shakes his head as if trying to rid himself of the memory. "The wolf. It was right in front of me. I thought I was going to die! I thought!" 

He gasps for air, then slowly turns to his little brother. His gaze is not just filled with worry, but also fear. "Then he screamed. There was this wind! So strong! It... It just swept the wolf away!" Shiro stares at Sota with wide, terrified eyes. "He's not a normal human."

His mother flinches. "Shiro, what are you saying?!"

"It wasn't normal!" He bursts out. "That wasn't an accident! It came from him! I saw it!"

The father remains calm, but tension lingers in his gaze. "Shiro... Sota is your brother."

"No! No!" Shiro's voice is barely more than a whisper. "Brothers aren't like that. Normal people aren't like that. He is... He is!" He can't bring himself to say the word.

The mother grips his shoulders. "Listen to me!" She looks directly into his eyes, her voice firm. "Sota is our child. Just like you. No matter what you saw, he is not a monster."

Shiro breathes heavily. A part of him wants to believe her. A part of him wants nothing more than for his little brother to wake up and smile at him like he always does. But another part of him remembers the force of the wind. The power that threw the wolf through the air.

Something inside him whispers that nothing will ever be the same again.

Shiro feels his father's gaze on him. He can't quite read the expression in his eyes. Anger? Sadness?

"Tell me everything. From the beginning." His father's voice is calm, but underneath it lies a sternness that allows no argument.

Shiro swallows hard. "We went into the forest."

His father's shoulders stiffen. "I know that! I wanna know why." His voice isn't loud, but the disappointment in it is unmistakable.

"I wanted to show Sota something!" Shiro dares a glance at his mother, but she says nothing.

"Shiro." His father runs a hand down his face, exhaling slowly. "I told you not to leave the property for a reason."

"I thought it wouldn't be a big deal..." Shiro mumbles, but even to him, the words sound foolish now.

"Not a big deal?!" His father's eyes burn with anger. "Your brother is unconscious and you are injured. How can you say it's not a big deal?!"

Shiro lowers his gaze.

His father takes a deep breath. "Go on."

"We walked through the forest. At some point, we found a clearing. And then... we saw them."

"Who?"

"Not who... What." Shiro clenches his hands into fists. "There were dead rabbits. Everywhere."

His mother sucks in a sharp breath.

"A wolf had torn them apart and before we could turn back, it was there."

The father goes still. His eyes narrow. "And then?" He asks.

"It charged at me and knocked me to the ground. It bit my arm. I couldn't do anything. I thought... That was it."

His mother grasps his hand. Her warmth gives him a small sense of comfort. "How did you survive?!"

Shiro's breath catches. "Sota..."

His father furrows his brow.

"He screamed. But not just any scream." He struggles to find the words. "The wind. It came from him. I swear it! It was like the air around him turned into a storm and then... "

He hesitates. "The wolf was blown away. It slammed into the rock."

Silence fills the room.

The father says nothing. His gaze slowly drifts to Sota, who still lies unconscious.

"It came from him..." Shiro whispers. "That wasn't normal, Father."

The father nods slowly. "We'll talk about this when Sota wakes up." His voice is softer than before. He places a hand on Shiro's shoulder. "Rest now." 

Shiro nods. But his thoughts won't let him go.

He doesn't know if he's afraid for Sota.

Or of him.