Chapter 02 ~ The start of the journey
The morning sky was a crisp, perfect blue, a stark contrast to the air, which held a biting cold that promised the heart of winter was not yet done. Fulan walked a forest path, a winding trail of dark earth where resilient grass and stubborn wildflowers peeked through a fresh, white blanket of snow. His footsteps, the only sound in the tranquil wilderness, carved a lonely trail behind him, a long, unbroken line marking his passage.
Seen from behind, he was a solitary figure against the vast landscape. A simple brown pack was strapped to his back, and a small cloth pouch hung from his waist. He wore a plain white shirt beneath a dark grey, sleeveless vest, its hood resting against his back. His trousers were black, functional and worn. His short, black hair was a stark slash of darkness against his pale skin as he made his way along the snowy mountain path.
He paused for a moment, his breath misting in the frigid air, and turned to look back. Far in the distance, he could just make out the shape of his home, the Kingdom of Tania. It was a sprawling, massive kingdom, but now it was a blighted land, rotting from the inside under the rule of an illegitimate king who had all but destroyed it.
The hope of saving that kingdom, its people, and his sister rested squarely on his shoulders. With that weight as his only companion, Fulan turned his back on the only home he had ever known and forged ahead into the unknown, searching for a kingdom named Saita.
His thoughts drifted to the usurper king's final instructions.
"Listen to me, Fulan," the King's voice echoed in his memory, cold and calculating. "Assassination is not a simple matter. If storming that kingdom were possible, my men and I would have already done it. But your age, your youth, and your talent… they will help you achieve this. Gain their trust. Then, from behind the scenes, in a moment that will shock the world, you will spill the king's blood. With your talent, I trust you will not only complete the mission but escape from them as well. I will give you three years, maximum. If you exceed this period, our agreement to treat your people with kindness will end, and this kingdom will return to its dark age once more."
Fulan looked forward again, standing on the edge of the mountain path. Below him, the world opened up. There were no villages, no kingdoms, nothing within the scope of his vision but a vast, untamed wilderness. Forests, valleys, and plains stretched to the horizon, all draped in a mantle of white snow. The king's final promise came to him then.
"I promise that my men will treat the people of your kingdom well until the outcome of your mission is clear. I give you my word that I will execute anyone who harms them until that time."
His steps began to quicken. Slowly at first, then faster, and faster still, until he broke into a full run. A strange, wild smile touched his lips as he reached the cliff's edge and leaped without hesitation into the open air.
As he fell, his hair and clothes whipping wildly around him, his thoughts became a clear, calm internal monologue.
By the way, I haven't properly introduced myself yet.
My name is Fulan Nanimo, and this is my story.
The wind roared past his ears, but his mind was a sanctuary of quiet reflection.
I have no idea what exists in the outside world. I've only heard stories from my master, who once roamed it alone. To be honest, this is the first time I have ever left the lands of my kingdom.
I grew up in a poor family. We didn't even have enough money to live within the kingdom's walls, so we lived nearby, paying the old king a fee for his protection, to be considered part of his domain.
I don't remember my father's face or his voice. My mother… she was killed a year ago. By the White Tiger—a monster with a dark history in the forest near where we lived.
He was plummeting now, the ground rushing up to meet him. He opened his mouth and the force of the air rushing in made his lips tremble, but his thoughts remained steady.
Everyone praises my 'talent.' The former king was waiting for me to turn eighteen so he could recruit me as one of his personal guards. But fate, it seems, had other plans.
My ability, in short, is a strange system. The odd thing is, when I asked my childhood friends, none of them saw writing appear before them like I do. They all use their abilities innately. Only I am different.
My sister, my mother, and I… none of us were born with a special power. But unlike them, three years ago, something happened to me. They called it an 'Awakening.'
I wouldn't know how to explain it myself; I didn't even understand the word until I met my master, who was, in turn, shocked by the nature of my ability. All I can say for sure is this: I can copy skills. I can copy a maximum of three skills and store them in the memory of what I like to call my System. Then, I can use any of those three abilities at will, and I can replace any of them whenever I want.
But there are limits. Many obstacles that people don't see. They think my ability is infinite, but it's not.
To use one of the three abilities, all I have to do is think of it, and this interface appears before me.
As if on cue, the familiar text materialized in his vision just as the ground loomed dangerously close.
[ Ability Activated: Wind's Cry ]
A violent torrent of wind erupted from his palms. He aimed them at the ground below, and the unleashed blast struck the earth with concussive force. It was so powerful it blew the thick snow away in a wide circle, revealing the frozen green grass beneath. The impact of the wind against the ground cushioned his fall, allowing him to descend gently, landing softly on his feet in the center of the cleared patch.
The wind died down, and the world became quiet once more. He looked at the long, straight path that the wilderness had laid out for him and whispered to himself, his voice full of a determined optimism.
"They're safe for now. That's what I have to believe. To succeed in this mission, I need to be affable, to win the trust of the people in that kingdom. I must be calm, not anxious or rushed. Push your worries away. Take the first step with optimism. And face the world with a smile… to complete this damned mission!"
Before him, the road of his long journey stretched onward, seemingly without end.
The morning sun blinked softly in the sky, its gentle light filtering through the canopy of the forest. Fantastical birds, their feathers a riot of impossible colors, flitted between the tree branches, their cheerful chirps and playful calls echoing in the crisp air. The trees themselves were mostly bare, their skeletal, grey branches dusted with a light layer of snow. On one of them, a squirrel scampered up to a hollow, a large acorn clutched in its paws, before disappearing inside to share its prize with its young.
Fulan passed beneath them, his black eyes taking in the tranquil woodland scene. His matching black boots crunched softly on the grass, which lay in patches amidst the lingering snow.
A full day had passed since he'd left the prison. He walked for hours, slept for hours, and rested for hours, but in all that time, he had not eaten. The cold had painted his cheeks and the tip of his nose a raw red. Each breath was a fresh sting of frigid air in his lungs. His clothes—a simple shirt and a thin vest—were better suited for spring and offered little defense against the persistent chill.
A low growl emanated from his stomach. He pressed a hand against it. "Hunger is eating me away, little by little," he murmured.
His fingers brushed against the small cloth pouch at his waist. The faint clinking of coins sounded from within. "That bastard gave me enough money to buy food for a while," Fulan whispered to himself, "but where am I supposed to buy it? And where exactly is the Kingdom of Saita? 'Just head west,' he said… as if that single piece of information is enough to guide me."
Then he heard it—a faint, distant sound of running water. His eyes darted to the north, and through the trees, many meters away, he saw the glint of a river.
A genuine smile touched his lips. "Well, finally something to be happy about after all this time."
He walked with renewed optimism until he reached the riverbank. Patches of snow and grass lined its edges, and in the slower-moving sections, thin sheets of ice had formed. He knelt and touched the water. The cold was a sharp shock against his skin. Grimacing, he cupped his hands, lifted the frigid water to his lips, and drank.
His eyes shot wide open as a jolt of pain shot through his teeth. "So cold!" he gasped.
He plunged his hands back in, gulping down several more mouthfuls. Water trickled from the corner of his mouth down his chin as he sighed, trying to will some warmth into his stomach now that he'd filled it with icy water. His black eyes scanned the area as he regained a sliver of his energy. "If only I had a bottle or something to carry some of this with me—"
His thought cut off. His eyes locked, his body frozen in surprise.
Further down the river, about thirty meters away, a deer was drinking peacefully. Its coat was a rich brown, ornately patterned with black markings. It had a magnificent set of antlers, and birds chirped serenely around it. A single, brilliant bluebird was perched calmly on its back.
Fulan remained perfectly still.
The deer lifted its head. Its large, intelligent eyes met Fulan's from across the distance. Its ears twitched. Then, in a flash of motion, it turned and bolted into the forest. Curiously, the birds around the river remained, undisturbed by its sudden flight.
In that same instant, Fulan surged into motion. Of course, he thought, his black hair flying as he ran, I'm in a forest now, not the mountains. There's life here… food.
He sprinted forward, his boots splashing through the shallows of the river. The birds finally took flight, scattering in a panic as he passed. He veered into the trees, leaping over snow-covered shrubs and bushes, maneuvering through the woods in hot pursuit of the deer.
The gap between them was already widening. Fulan noticed the deer's fur was beginning to glow with a strange and beautiful honey-colored light.
Is it using an ability? he realized with a jolt. I'll never catch it if it keeps pulling away. There's no other choice!
He closed his eyes, his breathing pattern shifting. All the cells of my body, obey me! Mimic the instinct of the White Tiger!
His eyes snapped open as the familiar interface flared before him.
[ Ability Activated: White Tiger ]
FWOOSH!!
A white aura exploded around his body. His hair whipped upwards as the snow beneath his feet vaporized from the sheer force of his launch. He shot forward like a ghost, a silent white blur against the grey trees. His eyes were deadly serious. The deer glanced back, its fantastical fur glowing brighter as it pushed for more speed, but it was too late. Fulan was closing the distance in meters.
In a move of shocking agility, the deer leaped, kicked off the trunk of a tree with all four feet, and ricocheted back, charging directly at Fulan.
"Wait, what?!" Fulan yelled in astonishment.
BAASH!!!
The deer's head slammed squarely into his chest. Luckily for him, its antlers bracketed his head, so his face was trapped between the horns while the full force of the headbutt knocked the wind out of him. He fell backward onto the snow. His eyes snapped open just in time to see the deer rearing up, ready to bring its sharp hooves down on him. Fulan rolled his head aside with lightning speed. The hooves slammed into the snowy earth where his skull had been a split second before, and the deer took off, vanishing into the forest.
Fulan sat up, stunned. He touched his cheek. A thin scratch from one of the antlers was bleeding slightly. He looked at the smear of red on his thumb.
"And here I thought it would be easy to hunt prey here," he said quietly.
A grim smile spread across his face. He took a breath. The white aura had faded when he was knocked down, but as he regained his rhythm, it flared to life again, brighter than before. He shot forward, a smiling bullet of sound and fury.
In a single leap, he was on the honey-glowing deer. He aimed a kick at its head, but the deer zigzagged, dodging his attack and bolting in another direction. Fulan didn't miss a beat. He leaped onto the trunk of a nearby grey tree, his feet finding purchase on the bark. "Let me borrow your move, my friend!" he yelled.
FWOOSH!
He launched himself from the tree, ricocheting to another, then another. He became a white comet, a flashing star that bounced between the grey trunks. Every time the deer tried to commit to an escape route, Fulan was already there, a white blur cutting it off. He surrounded it from all directions at once, a seemingly impossible feat. The deer skidded to a halt, confused, its head whipping around, trying to find an opening.
That was the only opening Fulan needed. He launched himself forward, both feet extended in a powerful double-kick aimed directly at the deer's head.
BAASH!!
The deer collapsed, unconscious as the glow vanished from his fur as if it had never been there.
Fulan landed before it, finally standing still. He panted softly as the white aura around him dissipated and his breathing returned to normal. "Man," he sighed, "did you have to make it so difficult?"
He slid his pack from his shoulders and placed it on the snow. From it, he pulled out a thick, lethally sharp, double-edged dagger. He stared at his own reflection in the polished steel—at his pale face, his black eyes, his blood-streaked cheek. He was trying to convince himself, to see the face of the assassin he was supposed to be.
He approached the unconscious deer and placed his left hand on its throat. His right hand, holding the dagger, trembled slightly.
Why are you shaking? he asked himself, a desperate edge to his thoughts. If you can't even take an animal's life to eat, to survive, how will you ever spill the blood of an innocent king to protect your kingdom? To protect your sister? Do it… This is a test. Do it!
With a surge of will, he drew the blade across the deer's throat. A spray of warm blood erupted, splattering across his face and staining the pure white snow a brilliant, shocking crimson.