A Story
I earned a reputation as a Genius and Prodigy in the eyes of many — my family,
neighbors, and almost everyone around me. Diligently, I honed my skills in sorcery and magic,
achieving mastery in all that I pursued. Yet, all of it seemed useless when “they” arrived. I wish
to forget every last bit of this memory but on the contrary it’s forever etched in my mind —an
unending reel of blazing homes and the grotesque tapestry of blood that adorned every corner of
our once-peaceful village. Summoning all my strength, I attempted to combat the horror before
me, weaving intricate spells and uttering every incantation I knew. Yet, my efforts resembled
nothing more than a mere spectacle of lights in the eyes of those Demons. After that, my
memories dissipate into an impenetrable haze, as though I had expended my mana and had
passed out.
As my consciousness returned, I found myself in an unfamiliar place—a place covered by
an unrelenting cold that clung to everything like a cloud. Endless fields of snow stretched out as
far as my sight could reach. With each step, uncertainty came along with my breath, the
unfamiliar surroundings seemed to wait for me to take my steps. My senses absorbed every
detail of my surroundings as I cautiously moved forward, absorbing everything I could of this icy
plain in my attempt to have even an ounce of understanding of where I could be. A Foul odor
oozed into my nostrils, curling its foul claws into every corner. By pure instinct, my hand rose to
make a barrier to this stench. "What is this?" The words repeats inside my mind, a whisper
carried on the scent itself. The aroma was strong, a smell that made my mind scatter telling me
that it's a smell that should be familiar to me but to no avail. As my eyes fell to the ground, it
dawned on me. There, staining the snow with its vivid colors, lay the undeniable mark of red—a
sight that made memories that I was still processing to rise up. My heart stopped and the
realization has striked me with its weight: the stench that has been invading my sense of smell
and clawing itself into me was the undeniable scent of a lifeless corpse. The body had a
horrified face signifying that whatever it had gone through was anything but pleasant.
My very being was struck with fear in the presence of this horrifying sight etching itself
to my core. Yet, my mind was telling me something quite the opposite—it was a sign that if I
stopped now, if I come to a halt, I would soon join this lifeless corpse in this never ending
snowstorm. With fear and determination, each footstep became proof of my will to survive. Fear
clawed at the edges of my thoughts, eating away at my very existence. A shroud of anxiety
enveloped me like a suffocating embrace. As despair destroys my resolve, a glimmer of hope was
in my sight. A thin black smoke trails itself upwards into the sky, a stark contrast to the
background of the snow. The sight was a sign of hope, an oasis of hope in this otherwise
desolate landscape. A fire's heart lay at the end of that dark trail, its warmth and promise of
companions flickering like a beacon in the never ending snowstorm. With a new fire of
determination, I ran forward. Each step, each heartbeat was in rhythm with the chant of hope
that echoed within my chest. The despair gnawing at me was pushed back by the aura of that
distant fire, a promise that life and warmth still existed amidst the frigid snow. My pace
continues to quicken, driven not only by the desire to escape this nightmare but also by the
comfort of the light that promised safety, rest, and perhaps a shred of understanding of what
this enigmatic land is.
Hope radiates from my eyes, as if something that was soon to wither has been given new
life. The tension that had attached itself to my body like an unwelcome guest disappears into
nothing. In the midst of this unfamiliar land, the sight that greets me is undeniably
comforting—a humble camp, nestled amidst the inhospitable terrain of snow. With trembling
relief, I take my first steps towards it, anticipation like a melody in my veins but the journey I’ve
had took a toll on my frail body. As if recognizing the warmth of safety, my body goes limp to
the weight of its own exhaustion. I collapse onto the snow covered land, my limbs heavy. It's a
moment of surrender, a yield to the demands of the unforgiving world that had been thrust upon
a child.
Yet my rest was short lived, I quickly regained consciousness. My eyes darted around a
scene of surprising warmth and comfort, a stark contrast to the cold and hard surface I
remembered falling onto—a tent, its walls formed of leaves, standing through sticks and stones
as a barrier to the cold outside. A makeshift bed and blanket cradle me. Emerging from the tent,
I'm met with a wide view of life that exceeds my expectations. The camp bustled with a life that
I didn’t even think would be possible for this type of environment. But most surprising of all is
the revelation that the camp is run by children, just like me. Their youthful faces, filled with
determination, engage in tasks of survival as if their very lives depend on it—a large contrast to
their small figures but an understandable one
Among them, some gather sticks, their efforts are proof to their shared goal of keeping
the life of the warm fire that surrounds them. Others, their faces showing nothing but
concentration, tending to the cooking of rabbit meat, a small source of sustenance and then,
those returning from what I speculated was a hunt—rabbits that they had gathered, a bounty
they are happily showing to everyone on camp. In this comforting camp, my heart is filled with a
blend of wonder and admiration. I've stumbled upon a place of resilience against the harsh
environment. As I took my place amidst them I thought to myself that I have now found a place
I could call “Home”.
Months went by since my arrival at the camp. With each passing day, I’ve taken the role
of a hunter, using my sorcery to aid my fellow hunters in our search. A quiet bond has woven
itself to us like an invisible string, a bond forged in the shared thought of survival. The spells
that once set me apart from them are now essential tools for their and my survival. Within this
unforgiving landscape, I continue forward with my comrades. Our attire, is proof to our
triumphs, is forged from the hides of the very monsters that we’ve feared before. The furs cover
us, offering a shield against the sheer cold and a reminder of the challenges we've conquered but
it's not just the coats that adorn us. Alongside the furs are delicate flowers, fashioned from
leaves that the younger of us of our camp have collected and crafted in a way to remind us of the
warmth of our camp.
Yet with the passage of time newcomers also emerge, much like I did that first fateful
day. Lost souls find their way to us, drawn by the smoke of our campfire. Their eyes give off the
same mixture of fear and hope that once was in mine. I see my own experiences in their
faces—the confusion, the uncertainty, and the longing for a place to belong in. Among the
newcomers, one stood out from the rest who, not like the rest, was working on his own terms.
While most of us were working on things such as Hunting and Cooking his focus was on
building. I must say that he has a knack for building. However, it was not his craftsmanship that
gave him the label of odd—it was his pastime, a weird and peculiar pass time of creating
peculiar gadgets that stirred a lot of skepticism among the people
While skepticism lingered in the conversations of others regarding him, I had a more
forward approach—I would pester him whenever he was focused on his constructions,
remarking,
"Your talent in building is really remarkable, yet these minor slip-ups seem out of
character for someone like you."
Surprisingly, his response was not one of irritation, but rather a gentle smile
accompanied by laughter.
As time flowed onward, our bond deepened, and we blossomed into close friends.
However, a sudden realization struck me like a bolt of lightning—I had been in this friendship
with him without once asking about his name. Gathering my courage, I finally asked the
question:
"We've shared so much, and yet, I've never had the opportunity to ask: What is your
name?"
He remained in silence for what seemed like an eternity, his pause leaving me to wonder
if he was thinking whether he trusted me enough to share this detail. Mountain of thoughts
raced through my mind until, at last, he broke the silence, accompanied by a warm laugh.
"To be perfectly clear with you," he began, "I don't know my own name either."
He cheerfully laughed afterwards as if he’s used to answering the same way in the past
I looked at him with a mixture of confusion and intrigue, then asked him, “Alright but
could you perhaps tell me the reason as to why this is?”
Without a hint of hesitation, he maintained that same warm smile that I had become so
familiar with during our friendship. He responded with a touch of mystery and a hearty laugh,
"Well, my friend, that’s a secret for now. A man ought to keep a few secrets here and
there, don't you agree?”
Returning to his warm smile, I decided not to push the matter any further. Instead, I
replied with a hopeful tone,
"Well I won’t press you further but I'll hold onto the hope that one day, you might choose
to share your name with me."
Following our exchange, his eyes sparkled with excitement and enthusiasm. With a sense
of playful curiosity, he suggested,
"For the time being, you can call me whatever you like. I'm genuinely curious to see what
you come up with!"
I stay silent for a few moments and I’m reminded of our first interaction and his simple
yet friendly greeting, “Yo”. It rings in my head and after a while I look at him with a sense of
pride and confidence and responds,
“Alright then, Yo it is. I’ll call you Yo from now on”, I exclaimed with enthusiasm
He stays silent for a brief moment and it gets interrupted by a sudden burst of laughter.
As his laughter seemed to be not ending soon, I couldn’t help but feel curious…. And offended. I
asked him,
“Why are you laughing? Is there something funny about the name I chose?”
After what felt like an eternity, his laughter came to a stop, wiping away the tears from
his eyes. With a lighthearted smile, he responded,
“Oh, it's nothing. I was just surprised. For a genius like yourself, I guess I expected a
more complex name. But hey, simplicity has its charm"