A slave pit?

Nine sat still, her back aching, body numb, legs bound in cold iron. The sting of earlier voices echoed through her mind like falling ice.

"Thief…"

"Street trash…"

"Bet she's mad she didn't get to scream today…"

"Girl's got more rage than the rest of us combined…"

'A thief. That's what they called me. Again and again.

They say I've been here for days. Chained. Beaten. Running. Failing.

But how could that be me?'

She stared at her small hands—chained and bruised. Too delicate. Too soft.

'This body isn't mine. It's too small. Too weak.

But it feels… familiar. Not foreign. Not entirely.'

Night had fallen. The slaves huddled around a bonfire sparked from rotting wood and scraps of dry cloth. It wasn't enough. Nothing was ever enough in this frozen hell.

His throat was parched. Tongue dry as ash. Instinctively, his fingers drifted toward the small bottle tied to his waist. He yanked the lid open and tipped it toward into his mouth.

Nothing.

Not a single drop.

He hissed, face twisting in frustration as he stared at the empty bottle.

"Why tie this bottle around my waist if it holds no water?" he growled through gritted teeth.

A voice cut through. Not loud, but sharp enough to draw his attention.

"Didn't you say it wasn't for water?"

Nine turned quickly to the direction.

A slim boy, also chained, leaned against a snow-dusted tree nearby. His frame was wiry, barely clothed beneath mismatched rags. His skin was pale with cold, lips cracked. Bare hands tucked under his armpits for warmth. Messy black hair clung to his forehead, and his knuckles were red from frostbite.

"I said that?" Nine blinked, his voice uncertain.

The boy scoffed.

"Yeah. You said there's a god trapped in that bottle. Tch."

He crawled toward him, dragging his chains through the snow. When he reached him, he tapped his head lightly, like an older brother scolding a child.

Nine eyes narrowed through the lad body, from head to toe. Then with a cold shoulder he said, "Be careful Child" His eyes narrowed .

The boy scoffed, "You're just older than me with a year and you call me a child??" The boy asked in disbelief then he added-

"Little Finger, don't tell me the beating actually knocked the memories outta your skull."

Nine brows furrowed.

"What did you call me?"

The lad plopped down cross-legged in the snow, completely unfazed.

Wind brushed strands of his black hair into his eyes. He blew at them with a playful puff.

"You don't even remember your name?"

'Little finger. So that's what they call this mortal, Pathetic! I expected better from my mortal host' Nine said, his inner voice laced with disgust and pity

"Where we close?" Nine asked carefully.

The boy laughed, shaking his head.

"Not really but who doesn't know you in Shinda? You're Little Finger. Grew up with thieves and beggars. Only stole from the rich, gave to the hungry. People used to protect you. Until some fat merchant snitched. That's how they caught you."

Nine stayed silent, absorbing every word.

"You got captured last week. Yesterday, they beat you for not obeying fast enough."

He leaned closer, cupping his hand like he was whispering a secret no one should hear.

"You better be careful. I think they wanna use you as a replacement. For the notorious thief who escaped last month. That knight that keeps picking on you? He's marking you. Watching you. Sooner or later… they'll have your head too."

Then, like it was nothing, he stretched and yawned.

"Anyway. I'm freezing. I'll sleep now."

He flopped over onto the snow, body curling in on itself.

Nine's thoughts swirled.

'I was so naive but got captured and tortured, this host was smart but still ended in chains... actually me in place of this mortal.'

He nudged the boy with his foot.

"Hey."

The lad grunted, eyes still shut.

"What now…"

"What country is this?"

He groaned, rolling to face Nine.

"You seriously lost your memory…" He scratched his neck with a sigh. "Fretoros."

Nine froze.

His breath caught in his throat.

"Fretoros?"

The lad nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Fretoros Continent. Valia Town. Shinda Village.

Can I sleep now?"

Nine didn't answer.

He stared into the fire.

'Fretoros…'

'The land where exiled gods were buried.

Where divine tombs slept beneath the snow. The fallen country of tombs so this is what it actually looks like in life. But now it's a village?'

He exhales and then laughed. Quietly.

'Now I'm fully convinced, mortals deserve nothing but pain'