It hurts. It hurts so much.

Every fiber of his being screamed in pain, begging for the agony to end, but no reprieve came. The agonizing pain persisted, pulsating with the rhythm of his heartbeat, and with each breath, his lungs were set ablaze a little more, the burning sensation creeping deep into his chest. It was unbearable.

A plaintive grunt escaped him, and Geoffrey pried his eyes open.

Whether he could believe it or not, he wasn’t dead just yet.

Where am I? A muddled thought, but one that echoed inside his head like thunder. So painful. Trying to form coherent thoughts was excruciating, his head feeling about to burst. It took a moment for his brain to realize he was lying on the riverside, his lower body still in the water. Something was rubbing against his ankles, so he tried to crawl further up on the shore, but to no avail. He could not muster any strength, and his arms barely obeyed his commands.

Clenching his teeth, he forced himself to at least roll over on his back. The buttons of his tattered uniform were digging into his skin, pressing against his rib cage and making breathing even more challenging. Or so it felt like it. It might also have been his imagination.

Either way, Geoffrey rolled on his side and fell onto his back with a loud thud and a cracking sound. He didn’t want to know what part of his body had just snapped, although he had a strong hunch it was his hips. Then again, it could be his tailbone, too.

Not like it really mattered. Every bone in his body seemed broken.

A self-mocking laugh left Geoffrey at the thought. What was the point of trying to figure out just how mangled his body was? It wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

For the time being, he had to figure out what happened.

As his confused mind was sorting through his jumbled memories, piecing together a picture of what had transpired, he stared at the sky. His green eyes were unfocused, and he mostly saw a blur of colors, but that was enough for him.

How beautiful.

Night was about to fall as dusk dyed the sky into an ominous red, the clouds limned in hues of pink and orange. The rain had abated, and only a slight drizzle remained, offering a clear view of the sky. It seemed to have been set ablaze, as if an inferno raged just above his head.

Soon, though, darkness would swallow it.

Would he survive the night? Probably not. In this state, he was an easy prey, the perfect feast for wolves and coyotes. The smell of his blood was also hovering in the air and was sure to attract predators and scavengers. It was just a matter of when they would notice him. If not wolves or coyotes, it would be something else, such as bears or foxes.

What else could eat him in the wild again?

Oh, right, boars.

Richardson had once told him these things ate anything and everything, even people's corpses, just like pigs. The guy had always loved to share obscure anecdotes no one wanted to know, and at the least appropriate times, too. Not like all of them were truthful, though.

“…”

What wouldn’t Geoffrey give to hear one of these tasteless jokes right now? He had finally managed to untangle his memories, but it might have been better if he hadn’t. From the little he had seen, he was the only one who had been washed ashore. Marveck was nowhere in sight, and the others had most likely been buried under a mountain of dirt and debris, never to be seen again. In all likelihood, he was the only survivor.

The realization slowly dawned upon him.

He bit his bottom lip, swallowing back the wail that wanted to escape from his throat, but he could not hold in the tears. They flowed down on his cheeks like waterfalls. It burnt. His skin was littered with cuts and scratches, and wherever the tears rolled, a trail of stinging pain followed.

Why…?

Why was he the sole survivor?

The dreaded question haunted his mind, accompanied by the memory of his comrades in arms. He was the youngest in the unit, and he had known them since entering the barracks as an errand boy. They had been with him for years, watching him grow from a teenager to an adult, acting like mentors and big brothers.

They had been what was closest to a family, even Richardson.

The grumpy middle-aged man might have been blunt, if not outright hurtful at times, but he had always watched his back. He would always take the brunt of their superiors’ ire with that loathsome smirk of his, diverting their attention to him so that they would forget about the youngster. His mocking tone hid a worry-cat nature, too.

Marveck, their unit leader, had been like a father, someone strict and stern, but never too far away when he needed help.

The other soldiers had also taken care of him in one way or another.

The more Geoffrey thought about his unit, the more it became difficult to hold back from sobbing. The despair and distress crept on him, numbing the physical pain, only to replace it with another type of agony.

At some point, he couldn’t muffle his cries anymore.

At first, the weeping was faint, almost like a whisper, but then, it grew louder until it turned into screams. He let go of his reservations and poured out the anguish clenching at his heart.

A gut-wrenching howling resonated over the river and throughout the valley, haunting and miserable.

They were gone, all of them.

How long did he cry? Geoffrey didn’t know, but breathing became so difficult that it felt like he was suffocating. Violent coughing fits had started to shake his whole body, too, trashing it as if it were a rag doll. The taste of iron spread in his mouth, and a lump of something seemed to congregate in his throat, filling it up to the point where it felt clogged.

Was he hyperventilating? Maybe. He didn’t know and didn’t care to know. Even if he could not breathe anymore, it didn’t matter.

He thought so until he heard a rustle on his left.

His heart skipped a beat, and Geoffrey slowly craned his neck sideways, glancing at the origin of the sound while taking deep breaths, trying to regulate his heavy breathing and sobbing.

If it were a scavenger, he hoped it would kill him swiftly and not prolong the agony. He might be the sole survivor, but he knew it wouldn’t last if someone didn’t come to his rescue soon. Sadly, he doubted the army would, as infantry soldiers like him were seen as expendable. If anything, his superiors were going to be more worried about the horses than the soldiers.

But what appeared in his field of view wasn’t a predator or a scavenger.

“The… deer?”

Geoffrey somehow managed to mutter between two sobs and gasps. He couldn’t say for sure if it was the same deer he had seen earlier, as all deer resembled each other, but his guts were telling him it was. For some reason, the absurd thought drew a smile out of him.

“W-what are you doing h-here?” he stuttered, his consciousness slowly fading away. “I-it’s dangerous. Go back.”

In this region, heavy rain was often accompanied by a flood, and this was the riverbed. The deer would be swallowed by the water and drown. It was a sad prospect, considering the deer hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve this kind of end. He had, but it hadn’t.

In Geoffrey’s mind, it had become clear this wasn’t a freak accident. No, it felt like a divine punishment, for what benevolent God could stay impassive when His beloved kids slaughtered each other in His name?

Obviously, the deer couldn’t understand him, and his vision grew blurry as it approached, not heeding his warning. Just as his eyes were about to close, Geoffrey seemed to catch a glimpse of an elongated shadow, and suddenly, it felt like he was floating in the air. Or more accurately, that he was in someone’s arms, gently cradled against a firm chest.

How warm was his last thought as he lost consciousness, falling into a deep slumber. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and did not resist Morpheus’s embrace.

***

An herbal scent wafted to his nose¸ and Geoffrey frowned. The smell was so strong that it felt like his nostrils were burning, eliciting a faint groan of discomfort from him. It slowly roused him from his sleep, leaving him disoriented.

Still so painful.

His body hadn’t stopped throbbing in pain, but it felt less agonizing, almost as if the pain was numbed by something. It didn’t make moving any less difficult, however.

Geoffrey half-opened his eyes, trying to prop himself up. His arms were more cooperative this time around, and he somehow managed to sit. His head felt dizzy at the sudden movement, but he barely registered the feeling, too confused to care about it.

“What the…?” Geoffrey stared at the blanket of fur that had bundled up onto his lap, instinctively stretching a hand to run his fingers over it.

His movement halted, and his arm froze mid-air. Geoffrey blinked, peering at the herbs wrapped around it, from his wrist up to his shoulder. It didn’t cover every patch of his skin, and he could see his arm had turned blueish and purplish, bruised all over. Yet, it didn’t hurt as much as it should. Were the herbs, and whatever that cream-colored balm was, numbing the pain? That would be the logical explanation, however absurd that sounded.

A hunch slipped into his mind, and Geoffrey lifted the blanket to peek at the rest of his body. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he realized he was butt naked, meaning someone had washed him before applying the herbs and the balm all over. He put down the blanket, trying not to think about it.

“I thought I had broken bones, but it doesn’t seem like it…”

In reality, Geoffrey had never broken any bones in his life, and he had mistaken the sensation for broken bones. A quick look at his body seemed to be telling him that, no, nothing was broken. There was no swelling, and although he still experienced a slight discomfort when he breathed, and his throat still felt constricted, he didn’t feel like his rib cage was trying to stab his lungs anymore. Quite the improvement.

“Still shocking, though. How come no bones broke with that fall?”

“They’re not broken per se, but they sure are contused. It can be as painful as broken bones. The only difference is that it heals faster. As to why nothing is broken? Good question. It seems like the trees cushioned your fall before you ended up in the river.”

Geoffrey jolted. The voice was grouchy, with a hint of coldness that sent shivers down his spine. It sounded melodious to the ear, but its frigidity couldn’t be mistaken.

Cautiously, Geoffrey turned around to meet the owner of that voice.

“Oh, I see. That makes sense. Sir, are you the one who—”

The words got stuck in his throat, and a dumbfounded expression slipped onto Geoffrey’s face—not overly theatrical, but obvious enough. He was so shocked that he momentarily forgot how to breathe.

The being before him was humanoid in appearance, yet clearly wasn’t.

A sleeveless robe draped his lean body, loosely fastened at his waist by a braided cord, and exposed a good amount of light brown skin. Even in the dim light, Geoffrey could see white dots on his shoulders.

So pretty. The fleeting thought crossed his mind as Geoffrey shifted his eyes higher, scrutinizing the being without even realizing it.

The dark brown hair fell onto his back like a veil, so long it coiled on the ground. On each side of his head, deer ears perked, and atop, massive antlers stood. But what truly captivated Geoffrey was the being’s eyes. It was pitch black like an abyss, without even the usual white of the eyeballs. Meanwhile, whitish beige lines lined the edges of his eyes, enhancing his long eyelashes.  

“You have something to say? If not, close that mouth.”

“Sorry,” Geoffrey apologized in a heartbeat, instinctively covering his mouth with his hand instead of closing it. “You just look so pretty.”

“Pretty…?” the being repeated, seemingly taken aback.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. But it was too late, as the words had already left his mouth and he couldn’t take them back. So, Geoffrey did the only thing he could do and nodded. If anything, the being was pretty.

“And here I thought you would be screaming in hysteria after seeing me.” The being scoffed. “That’s how humans usually react.”

“Would you rather I scream? I can do that, too!” Geoffrey chuckled awkwardly. If screaming would put the being at ease, he didn’t mind doing it, even if his throat still felt a little parched.

“Don’t.” The voice was sharp, and Geoffrey felt his body stiffen. “I don’t need a headache on top of everything right now, thank you.”

Lowering his head, Geoffrey grew silent. He stared at his fingers, fiddling with them. One of his ring fingers was in a makeshift splint, as it appeared to be strained, but the others were good enough to be moved around. Now that the shock was receding, he didn’t know what to do. Apprehension was surging in the pit of his stomach, for the being still wasn’t human. What is he?

A demon? But what kind of demons tended to an injured man…?

“You should go back to sleep. I’m no healer and only patched you up to the best of my abilities. We have to leave it to your body for the rest.”

“Alright…” Geoffrey obediently agreed. He did feel tired, too, even if he hadn’t been awake for long. It felt like he was also getting feverish, so sleeping wouldn’t do him any harm. Maybe it would also help clear his mind. “But could I have a glass of water first? I’m a bit thirsty.”

“Oh, right, humans need to drink. Wait a bit.”

The being turned around and left the room.

Silence fell, and Geoffrey’s thoughts seemed overly loud in his head, however chaotic they were. He massaged his throat, glancing at the room he was in. It was a strange place. A cave, perhaps?

There wasn’t much, only the blanket of fur and a makeshift bed of straw. The rest was stone walls and plants he could not quite recognize, such as the creeping plants with white flowers. If he lifted his eyes, he could see a hole in the ceiling, which allowed sunlight to enter.

“Must be fun when it rains…”

A constatation that seemed somehow out of place in his situation, even if it actually wasn’t. Geoffrey closed his eyes and shook his head. Maybe he was still dreaming, and maybe he was still lying on that cold riverside, but if so, let him dream a while longer.