Its memory faded with the warmth, which was uncanny around me. I felt no aches, or the toil of hunger, no pain of scraped infections left untended by…her.

A full-body shudder bore through me, compensating for the unfamiliar warmth weighing constantly over me, it was usually a body that slept by me. Usually a sound breath that would pause and rise to ensure nothing had happened.

But when I opened my eyes—sluggish from a deep exhaustion—I found myself in dimness. Different from cold, different from stone, different from the slab that I usually curled up on.

"Mother," I sat up abruptly, falling onto my right side as a young-boy with copper-skin, sharp ears, and vibrant green eyes stood at the foot of the bed, he wore simple clothing of long grey pants and a long-sleeve green shirt. "He's awake." He said, stepping farther away from me as I sat up and yanked the blankets away.

A soft sob immediately broke free from my throat and I shook to stabilise myself, a hard pant hummed through my throat as I fought to keep upright upon the soft mattress, tangling my only leg in the warm covers while I tumbled over the edge and onto the floor.

I raised my hands with a startled scream, banging my head upon the table by the bed through my attempt to hide in the corner of the room. I pushed back and curled into myself breathing hard through uncoordinated panic.

"Mom!" The boy shouted.

"Do not call me—what did you do?" She demanded.

"Nothing! I was standing there and he freaked out!"

"Chike, you need to leave." Her tone was quiet, and completely disappeared when I yanked at the covers and pulled them over my head.

I didn't move, even when the door had shut with a soft click, I breathed heavily upon my arms, squeezing my eyes shut as I heard my heart pound against my ribs. I couldn't breath with the weight of its hurt.

"Young man." I pulled my leg to my chest, her tone though gentle, brought utter fear through me. "Come here." I didn't, and I heard her come to kneel in front of me. I flinched heavily as she pulled back the blanket. Remaining wholly still as I stared at her. "What is your name?"

I couldn't answer her. Distracted by the small room, which was blank, and dim enough to be bearable but simultaneously too bright. It forced hard blinks to flood my eyes and with a sneer, I squinted at her, reaching for the blanket that was curled by my foot and drawing up to my eyes. The woman was older, lighter-skinned but more pale compared to the boy, her brown hair perfectly fell around her back, she wore a simple dress, high collared with sheer fabric covering halfway down her upper chest and arms. The remainder of the dress was a matte-green fabric, falling around her knees and form fitting.

I hated how she looked down at me, perched on her high shoes that were woven by thick black string up her legs. Her hands rested upon her thighs, close to her stomach until she leaned towards me, her brown eyes staring at me with a patience I saw a limit to when she offered her palm with an unfurled fist.

"Come, you cannot be on the floor."

"You'll steal my other leg!" I spat.

She blinked at me, softening her furrowed brow with a barely qualified sigh. "You will not come to harm here, young man. We had to remove your leg because it was rotting from my body. We did it to save your life."

"Why?"

She straightened. "We have no right to save you? I cannot allow a child to die."

"I'm not a kid."

"How old are you?"

"Twelve." I said with a paused whisper.

She kept her hand offered as she spoke again. "What is your name?"

I hesitated, shuffling with my butt back against the wall, the exhaustion from before returning rapidly. "Twelve."

She hummed, "I'm Elenice. The young man who was checking on your vitals was Chike, my son." He was peeking through the door.

I stared at her, "where is she?"

"Whom?"

My breath wheezed out of my lungs. "You took her?"

"You were alone, we only found another body that was also rotted." The disgust in her tone was undeniable. My shoulders fell, the heat in my palms poured into my face. Sizzling the blankets, I cried out when my hands were pulled back. "A fire mage!" Elenice gasped, "Chike, quickly, come!" My wrists were raised into the air, her grip didn't crush but was hard enough that I couldn't pull them back. "Calm yourself, child. You are safe, but your power can burn us."

"You killed her…" I coughed loudly, a hard hiccup burrowing grief into my lungs while Chike had said something.

"We did no such thing." Elenice huffed indignantly, finding a chance to back away as Chike grabbed my outer palm where my pinkies twitched. I cringed at his strength and found myself startled when the placid cold of his touch diffused into my arms with a sleepy tingling.

"You're safe." His words were absolute, but I didn't calm because of them. His green eyes looked at me, determined to make me understand. "I—" he swallowed, glancing back at his mother. "I tried to save the person you were with, but I couldn't find anything to heal. But you were alive, and whoever they were—we buried them."

I grabbed onto his wrists slowly, keeping my chin tucked to my chest as I cried down towards my lap. He pulled away from me, and I receded, curling further into myself. Chike still sat in vicinity from me, and I could feel how he looked over his shoulder at his mother between every sob.

"Here, you-you don't belong on the floor. Let's go back to bed?" He said, his lack of surety felt sour against how numb my mind was, but he still grabbed underneath my arms. Then stood with ease, taking me with his standing, "by Setria, you're so light." He said to himself, I pulled away to the back of the bed, hiding underneath the pillows. The blanket was gathered, my tears endlessly pouring from my eyes and onto my knuckles with a sharp sizzle. He bent towards the blanket, and turned to fluff it out before he threw it over me. He hummed, "hopefully that's better!"

"Chike, come." Elenice's words were muffled, strict, and when they left I found a choked pause, had my eyes tracing the light until a loud sob broke through my chest.

There was an ache at the back of my neck when I heard someone enter the room. Something hopped from my bed and as I sat up; I found Chike carrying a tray. His expression was furrowed, angered even, as he set the contents down upon a table not far from the bed.

With a slow breath he looked at me. "Can you stand?" He asked, I shook my head, trying to not fall asleep again. With a patient huff he brought the tray to the foot of the mattress. Upon the plain wood was a small bowl, a cup, and a plate with a cut loaf of untainted bread, not even touched with green mould. I inhaled slowly, glancing up at Chike who leaned upon the edge, his brow raised in question, arms crossed until he raised one with an offered flick of his wrist.

"Go on, it's just food and water. We're not going to starve you, but you can't just gulp it down either, so go slow."

"You poisoned it."

"How—we didn't—" He rubbed at his forehead, his longer black bangs were pushed back temporarily only to fall in front of his eyes again. "Please, just eat so I can leave?" I still stared at him, then with a frustrated hum he sat at the edge of the bed and reached for the spoon.

"Don't eat the bread!" I snapped, he glanced up at me with a roll of his eyes and sipped at the white broth, it wasn't grey or poured from his spoon like sludge. He placed it upon a piece of cloth then took a small sip from the cup.

"See, not poisoned. Just eat, Setria knows you need it." He stood to sit at the table, placing his ankle upon his knee and elbow against the back of the chair.

My heart was still in my throat, and despite feeling the slow clench of hunger; I still found apprehension. I had a feeling he was going to take it away from me, or truly become impatient the more I hesitated. But I couldn't move, and that worry was starting to ebb into my motivation.

"Setria be my Beacon. Alright, I'll feed you, are you even hungry?" Chike stood and I fled back, gasping at the tension in my hip. "Come to the edge of the bed." I shook against the slow painful, pressure pushing into my missing leg, I tried not to whimper from it. "I won't hurt you." He said, and tried to steady his youthful voice only for his words to fall with a mumble.

He brought the chair with him and placed it where I sat. I couldn't keep my eyes open, the exhaustion bearing heavily upon my spine and continuing to provide a steady flow of pain anchored my fingers to grip at the. I heard him gather the bowl and spoon, the fragrance ached hunger up my throat; it smelled good, something edible, something that wouldn't force me to throw up and for Her to run her hand down my back.

I startled back when the spoon pressed against my lips. "Eat." Chike's tone was convincing again, and I opened my mouth. I blinked through my tears, trying to breathe plainly with each short gasp. He cleared his throat and reached for the bread, I raised my hands towards it but he pulled away momentarily. "Wait, try this," a smile tugged at his lips as he tore a small piece off bread, he scooped more soup with it, and I opened my mouth. The bread was soft, barely warm but overpoweringly delicious.

I chewed carefully, the texture was difficult to bite through. "Yummy?" Chike asked, I opened my eyes again, the door clicked and Chike looked towards his mother as he scooped another bite for me.

"Hello, you two seem cosy. Is he eating well?" Elenice said, her tone quiet in the dim room.

"He keeps falling asleep, I'm scared if he lays down, he won't finish." Chike said, waiting for me to swallow again.

"Good, keep him upright since he's strong enough then lay him down when he's finished."

"Yes, Mother." Elenice stayed by the foot of the bed for a moment longer, before leaving quietly. The pause of silence was as long as I ate, and Chike offered the remaining bread last. I tore into the half-loaf immediately, startling myself when my teeth sank wholly through.

"It's just bread, I can get you bread any time you like. Please chew it, and don't choke." He scoffed. Leaving the cup on the night stand. "By the way," I looked at him, "the restroom is over here." He opened a door to my right, lifting the lid a white bowl. "Go to the restroom here, push the handle, then wash your hands, the soap is here. Left handle hot water, right cold. Understood?" I nodded, adjusting myself back to the headboard where I curled up.

"Hey." I startled awake, humming deeper in the covers. "Hey, kid. You need to wake up." I emerged from the warm blankets to look at Chike leaning once again on the footboard. "Here, I brought dinner. Come eat it." He placed it upon the chair.

I sat up and looked up at him, and reached for the spoon. The taste was lighter, sweeter with small white bits, and long strings of green slime in it. I stared at and sighed taking a bite, it was different, but not slime. "Sorry, the spinach looks weird." Chike said, "it's good though, right?" The flavour was sharper, but I nodded. "I…also brought you some bread." He pointed at the clean loaf.

I ate with him staring at me, the tension in his body was almost buzzing with questions. I didn't look up at him when he first asked: "Do you know what that mark on your wrist means?" I paused, sleepily looking down to my wrist. A sharp black, brand was dyed into my skin, it was a skull, with a set of horns and fangs, it was a pattern of woven links, its eyes vacant beside my thin veins contrasting through it.

"No." I said after another swallow.

"Do you…know what you did before you came here?" I looked up at him, staring while I clenched in my spoon.

The memory was vague, not a recollection—but a nothingness that hung a shade of terror over me. "I don't remember." I said.

"Do you remember if you have a name then?"

"Twelve-nine-fourteen-forty-three. It's when I was born, it's when I was the most cold." I stirred the soup, the gentle scrape filled the in-between while my heart beat and a sickness tore apart my fractured peace. I sniffed, trying to swallow the painful ache in my throat.

"But no name." Chike said.

"Twelve."

"You'd be thirteen now, actually. It's fourteen-fifty-six, Chike was quiet, and I took a few bites to calm the shudder that threatened to choke me. I saved the roll on my nightstand, and let Chike take away the tray from the chair. "Get some rest, I'll see you in the morning."