“Mom, Mom, where’s Dad gone?”

“Raphael! Less questions, more moving.” The anxious mother, hurried through the densely tangled woods, her hands firmly wrapped around the soft hands of her young son. Each step was fraught with urgency and a certain desire to escape. Her eyes darted from tree to tree, although every so often, she would break the pattern and intently stare behind herself as if to watch for something… someone. A dense fog had now settled close to the forest floor. Because of this, the time of the day was almost impossible to tell. The world was thrown into an abysmal blurry grey. The atmosphere that was previously erupting with the music of forest beasts was now replaced by an eerie, deathly silence if not for the rhythmic crunching of leaves left behind by the footsteps of the mother and son.

“But mom, where’s dad? Or gramps?”

The mother stopped suddenly and grabbed Raphael’s shoulders. “Raphael!” she scolded with a whisper. “I want you to listen to me, alright?” The boy nodded quickly, fear reflecting in his little shivering green eyes. “There are some scary people chasing us, alright? Whatever scary beasts you have seen until now? Verdogs? Miveans? Ramphas’s? These three people are even scarier than that. So I need you to just follow me, and ask less questions.”

“Okay mom. But why is dad with them, then? And they’re not from here, are they?”

“Raphael! I just told you, for god sake! We got to get a move on!”

“But mom…”

Raphael’s mother gave up with a slight sigh. “They’re not from here, they’re from the outside. And your father’s holding them back for the moment so we can escape. This is all for you, alright? And before you ask, your father is safe. So shut up and follow.”

The rest of the journey was quiet. Raphael had his little questions, as would anyone his age, but for the most part he had decided against it.

“We’re nearly there Raphael. Just a little longer, alright my little boy?”

“Y-yes mom...” Raphael panted heavily. “Mom, it’s the fog again. I haven’t gotten used to it.”

His mother cupped him into her chest quickly, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “Of course you haven’t. It has only been about seventy-five full moons since you were born. I want you to listen close to me, alright? Those people will always come after you. If not them, then someone else. And they’ll keep on coming for us. For you. And everytime you see them, I want you to think back to what your dad and I do whenever monsters broke into our homes. Do you remember, Raphael?”

“Huff, Kinda… Huff, not really mom. Huff, a little bit.. I remember-”

He was cut off by a sudden earth-shattering explosion.

“RAPHAEL, WE LEAVE NOW!” His mother was panicking now. She lifted her boy up to her chest and carried him as she ran from the source of the disturbance.

Although the sound of the explosion had covered it earlier, a distinct screaming arose as the hallowing echoes of the eruption dissipated.

And soon, Raphael’s mother could make out the words of the powerful intruders.

“CHILDREN OF THE OUTSIDE, GIVE US WHAT WE WANT, AND WE WILL SURELY SPARE YOU. WE HAVE GIVEN ONE WARNING TOO MANY! "

Booming footsteps loomed closer and closer to Raphael and his mother.

“Ok Raphael. I want you to stay calm and listen alright?”

He looked at her with wide, fear-stricken eyes. “Mom, I’m scared. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Just listen Raphael. Just listen. Cry later alright? Take this bag with you,” She urged as she wrapped the straps of the brown handmade bag around his shoulders. “Just run. Don’t stop running. And if they somehow manage to catch you, I want you to look inside the bag. There’s a casket and another small bag. And I want you to throw the little bag at them, and run away from them. Alright?”

“Casket, mom?”

“Look inside Raphael. Casket. That small wood box painted in gold is called a casket. You can never give them the casket.” She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Everything I’m saying is important. So listen well. There’s a good chance you won’t hear from me again. No matter what. You cannot give the casket to them. Once you throw the bag at them, be ready to run away. Can you see the path ahead of us? You just follow it. And then eventually you will find your grandpas friends. There should be three of them. They will help you. Until then, run. Run as fast as you can. And don’t look back.”

She looked as his flushed red face washed with tears and suddenly she began to tear up. Her eyes steamed with hot tears. “Come here, Raphael,” she beckoned him into her open arms. She promptly hugged him tightly. “There’s so much I want to say to you, my little boy. There’s a life outside of this place, where there are no monsters. Where there are no mana fogs. There is a place where people live better than others if they have something called ‘money’. Somewhere with clear blue skies and golden sunsets. Somewhere not far from here. You’re going to go there alright? And once you get there. I want you to live your life like you have never lived before. Live your life for me, your father, your grandfather. For everyone here. Please.”

“I-is that where Millenia went?” sniffled Raphael.

“Yes, Raphael. That’s where she went. And you’re going to go there too. Millenia knows about everything. Once you get there, I want you to find her.”

“Mom… Are you sending me away because I’m a bad kid? I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you wanted me to learn about mana. I’m sorry I didn’t clean my bed every morning. I’m sorry I-”

“Raphael,” his mother placed her callous stricken hand on his face. Her hand was so rough, and yet it felt so soft now. “It’s not because of that. You’ll live better out there. I can’t explain everything right now. But I just want you to know one thing.” The footsteps drew closer every moment, and they were running out of time. Raphael’s mother smiled warmly. “Your father and I, love you very much. You are our one and only son, and you’re our little blessing. Live the best life you can out there. I love you, Raphael.” Her face shifted back to seriousness. “NOW GO. RUN. DON’T LOOK BACK EVEN ONCE.”

Raphael did exactly that. His legs carried him far, he ran with all his remaining energy, heaving as he did so. His mother sighed a breath of relief. It felt like a massive weight had lifted off her chest. She turned away from her child, savouring the last moment she would see the tufts of his onyx-black hair and his emerald-green eyes. And as soon as she turned around, she was face to face with four figures racing through the forest at an alarming rate. The smallest of the figures; it seemed to be that of a woman; leaped on to her and pinned her down to the ground.

“Where is the map?” the woman hissed in a raspy voice.

“I could tell you, if you could tell me what happened to my husband.”

“Traehan is dead. His remains were not recoverable.”

Raphael’s mother’s eyes widened in shock, and she bit down on her lips in pure anger.  “Then I need to make sure the same doesn’t happen to my beloved child. Our land may not be kind to it’s people, but it has given us a home for many a millennia. And despite our exile, and your ignorance, we have survived here. And yet after all this time, you people come here to destroy our lives even further. Have you not taken enough?” she asked as her voice grew louder. “Your greed seems to know no bounds. You have already troubled my family enough. This is where you stop.”

She seemed to fixate on something at random, her gaze unfocused yet intense. As her attention drifted, her body began to emit a faint, icy blue glow. The hue deepened and darkened rapidly, the cool light transforming into a searing, intense radiance. Heat surged through her, the energy she emitted enveloping her surroundings, particularly the woman who had caught her.

The sudden change was startling, the air crackling with the heat and intensity of her power. The woman above her hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face as she felt the searing energy wash over her. Soon the blue light had shifted into a primal red, and the heat was unbearable. It happened so quickly that no one had time to react.

The largest of the intruding figures finally realised what was happening. “SERVANA, GET OFF OF HER, SHE’S TRYING TO EXPLODE HERSELF!” he bellowed in a voice laced with urgency. Servana scrambled to disentangle herself from the body of the woman, but Raphael’s mother had dug her nails into Servana’s arms, gripping tightly, almost as if she was using the rest of her strength in this very encounter.

“Remember my name, for the rest of your life, if you survive, and never go near my son. My name is Iuraph Noah-“

BOOM

Her words melted into the air as an eruption even greater than the last ripped through the forest, throwing the grey forest into a void of black.

A quiet voice began to echo within the void, soft yet commanding. “Wake up Icarus. Wake up. You have seen enough for now. You will see me again when the time is right. For now, this is all you will see.”

As if prompted by the voice, Icarus awoke. Blinking against the blinding white lights above his head, he groaned as the glare refused to diminish.

“God, why is it so bright,” Icarus groaned as he turned to his side. “Wait, since when was my cell bright?” He sat up stiffly, shielding his eyes from the harsh light. As his senses slowly returned, he took in the pure, white expanse that surrounded him. He found himself on a small, pristine white bed in an empty room, the starkness of the environment almost blinding in its purity.

The air felt unnaturally still, the silence almost suffocating. Icarus rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of the sudden change. How had he gone from the dark, dingy cell to this unnaturally tidy room?

Confusion clouded his mind as he tried to recall how he had ended up here. The last thing he remembered were blue lights in his room just moments before he passed out. Icarus decided to push aside his questions for the moment and observe his surroundings instead. He added the lights and his dream to his mental list of to-think-abouts. For now he had to focus on his flash of new scenery.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim flickering light, Icarus realized that a low-hanging light cast a cone of illumination around his bed and himself. Curiosity piqued, he climbed onto the bed, reaching up to remove the paper sheet that surrounded the light bulb. In an instant, the entire room was bathed in warm light, revealing its pristine cleanliness.

His previous ragged clothes, once stained a dastardly mud brown, had been replaced with a clean, sand-beige tunic that draped elegantly over his frame. Even his ripped-up britches, now transformed into clean but baggy almond-brown pants, seemed to fit him perfectly.

The room, though still devoid of any furniture besides the bed, revealed the presence of a few cupboards in the far corner. With cautious steps, Icarus placed his feet on the cold floor, gasping as the chill seeped through his skin. It was a sharp, biting cold, unlike the muddy ground of his cell. He wondered if they had placed some kind of substance on the ground to prevent him from escaping. After much consideration, he decided to steel himself and walk on the stabbing cold floor. It sent shockwaves through his skin, making him shiver as he stalked across the ground and towards the cupboards.

His feet had adjusted to the cold now. He thought that perhaps it was just a really cold floor. The cupboards, upon closer inspection, revealed a sparse assortment of items: bandages, balls of twine, and an array of sharp instruments. Scalpels, knives, needles - it was unmistakably a medical room.

As he stood there, surrounded by the sterile gleam of the instruments, Icarus's mind raced with thoughts of how he had ended up here. The memories flooded back - collapsing suddenly after a desperate struggle with a rat in his dim cell. His two guards, whom he had humorously named 'Elephant' and 'Mosquito,' must have finally taken notice of the commotion and brought him to this medical room.

Icarus wanted to know more about this dungeon. Why was he being held in this dungeon? Why had there been no torture, no questioning, since his arrival? And why had he been kept in solitary confinement for so long that he had lost all sense of time?

His thoughts were interrupted as a thud of footfalls began to approach the room. Icarus faced the assortment of equipment ahead of him in a hurry. It would be a terrible decision to waste this gift of an opportunity. He messed around with the instruments and equipment for a minute before he returned everything to how it had been before he had tampered with them. He rushed to his bed and wrapped the light with the sheet of paper again and lay down quietly, supressing his deep, ragged breathing.

The room lay in total silence for a few moments, right until someone slammed the door open and waltzed inside. “Icarus, you may return to your cell. I shall wait until you wake from your slumber.” Icarus was surprised. The voice was smooth, almost like butter, quite unlike the gruff nasal voices of his guards. There was an elegant tone to it, and it commanded everyone’s attention to himself.

Icarus hesitated for a few moments before he would feign to wake from his pretend sleep. He felt safe in this room. Almost as if he was away from danger.

He opened his eyes and sat up slowly nonetheless. He nearly expected the man to look different to how he imagined him, but surely enough he was the very picture-copy of the elegant speaking man he had resembled through his voice. The man was gifted with generous height, nearly reaching the arch of the doorframe above him. A golden robe flowed from his shoulders, spilling on to the ground, collecting at his feet. He was crowned with hazelnut hair, which parted to reveal his midnight black eyes, and neatly fell at his shoulders.

“I understand that you must have awoken in a stupor for this room may be brighter than your usual chamber. But you must go back to your chamber now, or you will be escorted back, even if by force.”

Icarus did not need to hear his disguised threat another time before he jumped out of the soft bed and on to the cold tiled floor.

"Damam, Ravniel, escort him back to his room," commanded the authoritative voice.

Icarus observed as two figures emerged from behind the man and through the door. They were his two guards, Elephant and Mosquito.

Elephant gestured for Icarus to step through the door frame, but as he attempted to pass, Elephant placed a heavy hand in front of him, halting his progress.

"Ravniel in front. Then you. Then me. Understand?" Elephant grumbled in his usual gruff voice.

"Yeah, no problem," Icarus replied, slightly nervous under the guard's imposing presence.

He cast one last glance at the brown-haired man before following behind Ravniel, now aware of his name. Was this man the leader of this dungeon? He could never know. It felt as if he was letting an opportunity slip by, but as frustrating as it was, he was simply too unfamiliar with this place. The corridors were long and convoluted and consisted of so many lefts and rights that he eventually gave up on remembering the directions. He peeked at the guards. Perhaps he could ask them some questions.

“Damam, Ravniel, can I ask you something?” he asked tentatively. As they ignored him, he decided to just talk until he could get a reaction from them. “Could you tell me how I am? I’m really curious. Or how long I’ve been here for? Or maybe why I’m even here. Regardless, you guys don’t make my life any easier.” The more they ignored him, the bolder he felt, now raising his voice a little, gaining confidence. “And do you like eat half of the food you serve me Damam? Would explain why I’m so thin and you’re so… horizontally blessed. I don’t quite remember what the world is like outside of here, but is there really anyone who is heavy as you-”

“Silence. You. Big mouth. I break it. Talk. I break… your mouth.”

A little adrenaline flowed through him suddenly as he got a reaction. “So you can talk. Why was I imprisoned here? I can’t remember. My memories are gone and I-”

“Shut it, scum. Don’t you dare feign ignorance. None of us would have been forced to slavery if not for your incompetence you ignorant prince-” Ravniel was suddenly shut off as Damam slammed his heavy palm into his face, and slammed him into wall.

“You. Too much talk. Someone hear. Trouble… Ravniel.”

Icarus’s mind swirled in confusion as he heard Ravniel speak and Damam’s sudden altercation. They weren’t working? They were slaves? And more importantly, prince? Icarus was a prince? Or was it a metaphor for something. Icarus just couldn’t tell, but for the first time, he had garnered some information, even if something small. But before he could process his thoughts Damam turned on him and grabbed his by the scruff of his collar.

“You. Don’t talk. Go inside.”

Ravniel got up from his slumped position and faced Damam. “It’s his fault goddamn it. He should at least know what he did.”

“Wrong. Fault is ours.”

“Bu-” Damam covered Ravniel’s mouth with his thick, meaty hand.

“Ravniel. I understand. But. You wrong.” His speech was rough and barely put together. It matched his gruff and burly appearance.

“I don’t agree with you Damam. The least you can do is to let me tell him why he’s here.”

“Shut up. We take him. Dungeon. Nothing else.” Damam's voice brooked no argument.

Ravniel complied despite his internal turmoil. With a brash tug, he brought Icarus to a stop in front of his cell door, yanking his face close as he unlocked the rusted metal barrier behind him. “Enjoy your stay… Icarus.” Without another word, he swiftly delivered a kick to his chest. He flailed in the air for his second of flight before he landed with a thud on all fours. He blinked to waste away the sudden shock of pain coursed through his nerves.

Before Icarus could even begin to protest, the door clanged shut sealing him in familiar darkness. After letting out a groan, he sat up and faced away from the door.           

“I can finally start to find a way out of here,” he whispered to himself as he revealed multiple stolen supplies from beneath his britches. A set of bandages wrapped around his leg, and a scalpel and pencil tucked neatly within it. “This is as much as I could carry without making it look unnatural. Now, where do I start?” he asked himself. He was careful enough to keep his voice low. Thankfully, there were no peepholes on the metal door to his cell, so he did not need to worry about being seen. But at the same time, it was better to be safe than sorry, so he  turned away from the high door.

“Ravniel, he called me a prince. Prince huh, maybe an alias? Maybe I was the prince of thieves or something. Maybe that’s why I was thrown into this prison, yeah, that sounds right,” he muttered. He pondered for a few moments in silence, gathering his thoughts. “No, that’s completely baseless. For now, let’s assume I was a prince. What would I be doing here. If I was a prince and my father was a king, then wouldn’t he get me out of here? Maybe I’m a banished prince. Am I even supposed to take it literally? And then my dream…” Icarus mulled over the dream briefly. It was a departure from the usual harsh but serene scenery of Raphael’s life.

“A gold wooden casket, huh?” he mused in a hushed voice. “I wonder what was inside… Or where Raphael actually lived. I don’t know anything. I don’t know anything about how the real world works, or how this dungeon works, or why I’m here. It’s so frustrating.” He contemplated for a few moments with clenched fists. Icarus had maintained his calmness and patience for as long as he had been imprisoned. He wasn't so ambitious as to attempt a breakout, nor was he so unintelligent as to lash out recklessly He was careful… perhaps too careful. Maybe it was time for a change. “I need something small. Something to work with. A source of information.”

Icarus caught a glimpse of a white light somewhere from the corner of his eye. Quickly he scrambled up from his position to find the source of the light. “The window is too damn high for me,” he muttered in annoyance. He grinned suddenly as he looked at stolen supplies on the ground.

“But maybe I can use this.” Icarus studied his surroundings for a few moments and the broken lantern caught his eye. However Icarus was interested in the object holding the lantern instead. A rusted ring wedged tightly into the mud ceiling.

“I’ll wrap the bandages around the handle of this sharp thing. When it comes down, I can fasten it to the silver food plate to see through the window. To hold the plate in place, I can just stab the other end of the bandage to the ground with this knife thing. And then to hold the plate in place, I can just stab the other end of the bandage to the ground with this knife thing,” He smirked in victory. “I was definitely a genius before I lost my memories.” After many failed attempts and frustrated sighs, Icarus finally managed to carry out his idea into fruition.

Nervously, he stepped back from his makeshift mirror contraption to take a better look of the outside world. This, he was sure, would be the beginning of his long-awaited escape. Anxiously swallowing his saliva, he stared at the silver plate.

Finally the outside world burst into view, causing Icarus to step back and trip over. As he propped himself on his arms, mouth slightly agape, he remained fixated on the silver plate in the air. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered.