A similarity

The crackling sound of fire filled the small hut. The faint aroma of roasting meat drifted through the air, mixing with the biting cold of the Lostwood forest. Ziero crouched in front of the small fireplace, occasionally flipping the pieces of meat cooking over the embers. The reddish glow of the flames cast flickering shadows across his serious yet relaxed face.

He didn't know if the girl would survive or not, but if she woke up, she needed to eat something.

Behind him, the sound of heavy breathing could be heard. Faint, almost imperceptible… but it was there.

The girl's eyelids twitched slightly. Her breath hitched as consciousness slowly returned to her. The world was still a blur in her vision, but she could sense the warmth of the fire and the faint smell of food.

When her eyes finally opened, the first thing she saw was someone's back.

A boy, sitting upright in front of the fire.

Even in her blurred vision, she could see the faint purple glow in his eyes.

For a moment, her mind was blank. Then, something hit her chest.

Fear.

Her body tensed, her breathing quickened. A chill spread through her—not from the air, but from something deeper… something that had been ingrained in her for a long time.

She remembered.

She remembered what had happened to her.

Their faces. Their gazes.

The pain of the ropes digging into her wrists. The sound of wooden wheels rolling over rocky ground.

And… blood.

So much blood.

Zyra let out a small sob.

It was quiet, barely more than a gasp—but it was enough to make Ziero's body stiffen. He quickly turned around, his sharp, wary gaze locking onto her.

And there she was—lying there with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"She's awake."

Ziero immediately stood and approached her, but before he could do anything—

"Stay away!"

Zyra screamed. She instantly sat up and pushed herself back, her glowing red eyes filled with terror.

"Is she still half-conscious?"

"No… this isn't normal fear."

She wasn't afraid of the forest. She wasn't afraid of Ziero.

She was afraid of herself.

Ziero frowned slightly and raised both hands in a slow, non-threatening gesture.

"You're too loud," he said, his voice low but firm. "Keep that up, and you'll attract monsters."

Zyra bit her lip. She was still trembling but tried to steady her voice.

Even so, she kept looking at Ziero with fear.

"I… I'm not human…" her voice shook.

Ziero remained silent, waiting for her to speak.

Her crimson-stained hands trembled as she glared at them with hatred.

"My eyes… my hands…" she clutched herself tightly. "I'm different. I'm… cursed."

Ziero raised an eyebrow. "A curse?"

Zyra nodded, curling her body inward, hugging her knees.

"When I was five, I… I met a royal chef…" her voice wavered.

Ziero stayed silent, letting her continue.

She looked down, her shadow flickering on the wooden floor.

"He smiled at me… he was kind…" Zyra swallowed. "But then… suddenly, blood started pouring from his eyes… his nose… his mouth. He collapsed onto the floor… and never got up again."

Silence.

Zyra clenched her fists.

"Everyone turned to me… they saw my eyes, my hands…" her voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "They called me a curse. A monster."

Zyra looked up, her glowing red eyes filled with tears.

"I never wanted this! I never wanted to be like this!" her voice cracked with desperation. "I don't want to be a monster!"

Bang!

A loud sound echoed.

Zyra flinched. She gasped as something grabbed her wrist.

Ziero.

His darkened hand gripped her crimson one firmly.

"What are—"

"Look at me."

Zyra froze.

Ziero stared at her, his sharp, violet eyes gleaming under the firelight.

"Hey, look at me," he repeated, softer this time, but no less firm.

Zyra unconsciously held her breath.

For the first time, she truly saw Ziero.

His violet eyes.

One pitch-black eye, similar to his hand.

And that hand… it was just like hers. Only a different color.

Zyra's breath hitched.

Ziero still held her hand tightly.

"Do you think I'm a monster too?" he asked quietly.

Zyra couldn't answer. The words caught in her throat.

They were… the same.

No other human had hands like this. No other human had eyes like this.

But Ziero was right in front of her.

And he was the same.

Her trembling hand gradually stopped shaking. She looked at Ziero—confused, scared, and… with a tiny flicker of hope.

Ziero finally released his grip.

"Don't talk about curses in front of me," he said flatly. "Because I'm just like you."

Zyra remained silent.

Inside her chest, something shifted.

Maybe… just maybe…

---

The night deepened, and the winds in Lostwood grew colder than before. Light raindrops began to fall, tapping gently against the hut's worn roof. Outside, the sounds of nocturnal insects and distant howls served as a constant reminder that danger lurked in every shadow.

Inside the small hut, only the flickering fire burned, offering a fragile warmth to the two children who had just met.

Zyra sat quietly in the corner, staring at her hands. Her crimson fingers trembled—not from the cold, but from the storm still raging in her mind.

She still couldn't believe it.

For as long as she could remember, she thought she was the only one. The only one who had to bear this 'curse' alone. But now, in front of her, was someone just like her.

Could it be… she wasn't truly alone?

Ziero, still sitting near the fire, observed her silently. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes never left her.

"How long are you going to keep sulking?" his voice finally broke the silence.

Zyra flinched. She turned to him hesitantly.

"I-I…"

Ziero let out a quiet sigh. He then picked up a piece of roasted meat from the flat stone he was using as a makeshift plate and tossed it toward Zyra.

She barely caught it, staring at the meat in her hands with uncertainty.

"Eat," Ziero ordered, his tone curt.

Zyra hesitated for a moment, but her empty stomach answered for her. With shaky hands, she took a small bite. It was a bit tough and slightly bitter, but not bad.

Ziero watched her eat in silence. After a moment, he said, "You haven't asked yet."

Zyra looked up. "Asked…?"

Ziero flexed his dark fingers slightly, letting the firelight reflect off his obsidian-like skin. "About this. About me."

Zyra hesitated before biting her lip. "I… don't know what to ask."

"Most people look at me with fear and ask if I'm a demon." Ziero held her gaze. "But you didn't."

Zyra clenched her hands. "That's because… I'm the same."

Silence filled the hut once more. Only the crackling of the fire remained.

Zyra lowered her gaze, then, in a small voice, asked, "How long… have you been here?"

Ziero didn't answer immediately. He stared into the fire for a moment before murmuring, "Two years."

Zyra's eyes widened. "Two years…?"

"Yeah."

She swallowed hard. She couldn't even imagine surviving in this place for that long. The forest was terrifying. The monsters lurking within it were worse than anything she had ever heard in stories.

"But… how did you survive?" she asked softly.

Ziero shrugged. "I didn't have a choice."

A simple answer, but to Zyra, it carried a heavy meaning.

No choice.

She knew that feeling.

She knew what it was like to be abandoned, to be left alone, to be forced to survive.

But Ziero… he had endured it for two years.

"Do you… want to leave this place?" she asked without thinking.

Ziero turned to her, his face unreadable.

"Do you think there's a way out?" he replied flatly.

Zyra fell silent.

No one had ever returned from Lostwood.

That was a fact.

But now, she was here.

And in front of her was someone who had survived for two years.

If anyone knew more about this place… it was him.

"But… you must have tried, right?"

Zyra looked at him, hopeful. "You tried to find a way out?"

Ziero stared at her for a moment, then spoke in a quiet voice.

"I tried."

Zyra held her breath.

"But this forest… it's not like an ordinary forest."

Ziero stood up and walked toward the small window—a simple square hole without glass.

He gazed outside, into the endless darkness of the forest.

"This place moves."

Zyra frowned. "Moves…?"

"This forest changes. The same path will never take you to the same place twice."

Ziero turned to her, his violet eyes gleaming under the firelight.

"Even if you mark the trees or leave a trail, everything can disappear in an instant."

A chill crept down Zyra's spine.

"And if you wander too far…" Ziero paused, his expression hardening.

Zyra swallowed. "What happens?"

Ziero looked deep into her eyes before finally speaking in a low voice.

"You don't come back."

Zyra felt her body tense.

Two years.

Two years in a place like this…

How had Ziero survived?

But before she could ask more, a deafening roar echoed from outside.

GROOOAAAAARRR!!!

Zyra flinched.

Ziero immediately grabbed his dagger, sharpening his senses.

Outside, branches snapped, and heavy footsteps shook the ground.

A monster.

Ziero frowned.

"Put out the fire. Quickly."

Zyra was still in shock, but she obeyed. She grabbed a handful of sand from the corner of the room and threw it over the fire, snuffing out the flames.

Darkness swallowed their hut.

Outside, the heavy footsteps grew closer.

Ziero tightened his grip on his dagger.

"Stay here." His voice was low, almost a whisper.

Zyra swallowed hard and nodded, her body trembling.

Through the gaps in the wooden hut, she could see a massive, dark-skinned creature with glowing eyes piercing through the night.

Its breath was heavy, releasing mist into the cold air.

Ziero took a deep breath.

Tonight would be long.