Bruised like a lone tomato trampled through dozens of feet in a market, Sol felt sore all over. Yet he ran and ran and ran.

Enraged voices echoed all around, the distance between him and the mob decreasing in equivalent proportions to his increasing heartbeats. They were twenty feet away and if he stopped even for two heartbeats, they'd pounce on him with the speed of a whirlwind.

Arithmetics, really? Now?

"Stop, you thug," A man bellowed.

"Leave me alone!" Sol shouted back.

"No, not until you tell us who you are, you thief," a woman replied, huffing, and panting but not as much as him.

"I want the same answ-"

Before he even got his words out, the land shook. They were doing their magic. Crap.

Sol ducked and rolled, dodged the cracks in the ground, wincing with pain. A sharp stone hit his back and he almost fell flat on his face but stumbling through, he ran yet. He presumed, his body clearly had been in a much better shape, before this nightmare...

Then, he saw a silhouette of an old lady a few paces away, walking slowly under the dimming glow of the sunset. Two cloth bags swinging by her sides.

Desperate measures.

Reaching ahead, Sol stood behind her and clasped her wrists, as lightly as he could. "Please, please, g-grandma, please. Stay still. Or they'll kill me," he groveled near her ear. "I won't hurt you. I promise. P-Please stay still."

The people came closer and halted, slowing their run. Cutlasses and axes in hands. Sol pleaded to the old woman again and she, to his extreme relief obliged with a brisk shaky nod. Then her demeanor changed.

"Go... go away. Or he will harm me," she spoke to the group of six. Her voice thin yet fierce, "Shoo."

He made a show of pulling her back and widened his eyes threateningly at them all. The ordeal was a bit comical to him for the lack of a better word. After a few moments, they dispersed, cursing beautifully at him. He knew not why the people hadn't fought for the woman's safety harder.

Sol dared not put his guard down, as they walked some half-a-mile further. He offered to carry her heavy-looking bags which stank like... fish and spices, and after a little hesitation she had let him. She stopped in front of a small house with broken fence and turned her head just a little to glance at him.

With a wildly beating heart, Sol put the bags on her doorstep, thanking her for the help and apologizing for the same. However, she looked at him the same way the fisherman and the local shop owners did. With intrigue and... suspicion.

Sol waited for her to do her magic and open the door. But to his extreme surprise, she pulled out a rustic key from a knot of her long wavy skirt. Perhaps, she was weak at magic... or didn't have any.

The lady, with an eye still on Sol, fumbled with the padlock. The door opened with a creak. His heart weighed like boulders as he dipped his head at her one last time and walked on realizing he didn't have that luxury. Nowhere to go.

There was an itch in a particular crevice of his brain where most important of the information was supposed to be. Important and basic. An image of a parchment formed in his head and he made a... list-

Name - unknown, Realm - unknown, Age - mid-twenties (since all my teeth seemed intact and plenty of hair haphazardly grew on my head). Gender - male. Clothes - torn and burnt (could be grey or black or it was all soot). Boots - perfect (seemed to be made of good quality leather). A ruined neck chain with an onyx studded along with a long silver intricate one (which no one had bought).

A part of his face was ruined, if the agonizing pain, dried blood and the reflection in the seawater where he had woken up two days ago was any indication. His stomach grumbled yet again and he simply dragged his limping feet on the pavement, a hand clutching his tattered jacket. With each dizzying step, the reality sank in-

Sol was alone. All alone and knew not where home was - whether he had one. Not knowing where the roads led to. What more obstacles awaited him further...

He decided to go back to the seashore where he had first opened his eyes.

"Wait, lad."

He abruptly turned at the breathy voice of the old lady. The sunset's crimson glow made her long shadow travel to where he stood, her face kind and drawn in a soft smile.

"Would you perhaps like some... pie?" she asked.

That was the night when Sol met an angel.

***

It was a square room. A circular ottoman and a rocking armchair were placed in front of one small oblong window. A humble chandelier made of shells and conches, with ivies curled around it in spiral, hung low from the midpoint of the red-tiled ceiling.

The old lady drew the curtains and gestured to lock the door after him. But what surprised Sol the most, were some orange flowers glowing around the linings of the entire room and disappeared into the passage to the left, which he assumed led to either a kitchen or another room.

"Grandma," Sol cleared his throat, "what are those flowers? Is that your magic too?"

She seemed not to have heard him, busy with arranging the small egg-shaped dining table with just two chairs around it. Suddenly as if remembering his existence, she looked up and patted the backrest of a chair. Sol obliged.

"Thank y-"

"Tea good for you, lad, or would you prefer something cold?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"T-Tea is fine, thank you," he said. But she still looked at him, as if awaiting a response.

And it hit him, she was light on her ears.

Sol smiled, raising his voice just a bit higher, "Tea would be fine."

At that, her face broke into a wrinkled, gap-toothed smile. "Very well."

She entered into the passage lightened up by the strange flowers of this Realm. Maybe if he climbed on the chair, he could pluck one out and check for himself whether they were real or not. His height seemed to be good enough to reach the ceiling with ease. Sol kept looking at them, squinting his eyes - the leaves did seem authentically green. But how were they watered without any soil to support them? How long did the glow last? Did they glow even in the daylight?

His fingers tapped on the table, a leg shook underneath, as he picked up the glass of water, she had lain in front of him. Outside, a goat was bleating continuously, and he wished it'd shut up. There was another small window behind him, from where the annoying sound came and without stopping to think, he rose up and pulled the ocher curtains to peek outside.

A brick barn was attached to the house where cows mooed; goats bleated and perhaps a... cat mewled. Sacks of, he assumed, manures and fodder lay beside it at some distance. Caskets with glass bottles, some empty, some filled with milk neatly arranged around. Dairy farm, then.

Why do I remember all these trivial things and not my own name?

"Lad!"

Sol hadn't noticed when she had come over and stood beside him, her footsteps lighter than a leaf's descent. She handed him a clay cup. He sipped the steaming tea, after blowing over it a bit and asked, "Do you work on the dairy yourself?"

"Aye, used to handle it all before but now these knees give out on me." She peeked a glance up at him, her head barely reaching his shoulder and the slight bend on her back made her even shorter. "Now I have a farm hand, but lazy as a red panda, that fella."

"Do you need help around? Let me repay you for your kindness, grandma." Sol turned towards her; his heart full of gratitude as the warmth of the tea settled in his body.

"You don't have to, lad. It's alright."

"No. Let me help you. Please, I insist."

She gave a brisk nod. "Very well, then. Now come have some pie. You look like you've been through Hell, dear...? Pardon, I didn't catch your name..."

"Sol, my name is Sol."

They sat across the unpolished wooden table, his hands fisted on his lap, waiting for-

"Might I ask why were those people after you, Sol?"

Tell her the truth.

But she'd throw you out.

Tell her the truth, you fool.

Sucking in a breath, he met her soft gaze, "I stole a loaf of bread."

Silence like a graveyard echoed in the room, his pulse ringing in his ears.

"Must not have sufficed..." she said, and pushed the dish of the apple pie towards him.

His eyes lowered in shame, as the horror of his ordeal slashed in his guts. The burnt part of his face and arms suddenly made themself known and he clenched his teeth, murdering the wince dying to escape. One didn't need their memories to know that this life was unacceptable and just... wrong.

"You..." Sol said aloud, unable to meet her eyes, "shouldn't trust strangers so easily, grandma."

"A stranger," she promptly said, "never called me grandma or offered to help me carry my bags."

Sol looked at her, understanding hitting him - she was a Vacant. Those people had not fought for her safety and had given up on her; his heart clenched. In the moment, something flickered in his brain... he recalled a boy... a young boy of ten who had been made an outcast because of a... similar issue. However, the memory blurred and slipped from his grasp... much to his immense annoyance.

After a long stretch, she tapped her wrinkly forefinger on the circular bronze edge of the dish. "Eat up then I'll whip out a healing potion for your injuries."

He reached a shaky grateful hand towards the pie. But the itch grew in his head and he pointed a finger up instead, "Could you tell me what these flowers are?"

And that was when he knew he had blundered bad.

Her brows knitted close, highlighting the already deepened wrinkles and she swept a skeptical glance starting from his hair to his torso and back at his eyes, while unease yet again gripped him. What was wrong with these people?

No, what was wrong with him?

"You do not know these flowers?" she asked.

The apple pie, with sweet as paradise syrup dripping from its end, suddenly seemed like a treasure about to be snatched from him. Like a starved man-which he was-Sol bit hungrily through the slice and lapped up another cup of tea. If she suddenly had a change of heart, at least he'd be thrown out on the streets with some sustenance.

The old lady, her eyes specked with green at the edges now tinted with the orange haze of those flowers, was still looking at him. He could practically hear her second thoughts inside her head.

"You are not from our island, are you, lad?"

Should've just kept my mouth shut and asked for another slice of pie.

***

Author's note: There is only one island in the map. Hopefully you'll see Sol for the chatacter that he is not just as a mystery to be solved. ✨ You'll figure everything sooner.