The sky had turned completely ink-black, and the silence of the night began to deepen. The sound of the guards' footsteps fell heavily upon the stones.
The first guard paused, looking at the darkness spreading in every direction, and spoke in a low voice, "Master, it is quite late now. We should head back toward the palace."
Len's pace did not falter. Without looking away from the path, he answered in a flat tone, "I do not wish to return just yet."
His strides were steady, but suddenly his eyes fixed upon a massive tree in the distance. It stood in the darkness like a magical tower, with thousands of fireflies shimmering among its branches and leaves. That golden glow bathed the entire tree in an extraordinary brilliance.
A sudden spark appeared in Len's eyes. His curiosity gave wings to his feet, and he began to run wildly toward the tree. Seeing him bolt so unexpectedly, the guards' hearts raced, and they too quickened their pace despite their heavy armor.
Reaching the tree, Len was breathless. He slowly extended his small hand and rested his palms against the massive, rugged trunk. The flickering light of the fireflies danced across his face. He lifted his gaze upward, where those tiny glowing stars swirled with the gusts of wind.
"You... you are so beautiful," Len whispered, stroking his hand against the bark.
With his eyes still fixed on the fireflies, Len began to walk slowly toward the other side of the tree. He was completely lost in that world of shimmering droplets. Suddenly, his foot struck something solid. Losing his balance, Len fell onto the grass with a jolt.
He pressed his palms against the ground and pushed himself into a sitting position. Shaking off the dust, he cast his gaze toward the object he had just collided with. Resting against the trunk, between the shadows and the light, lay a small figure.
A child was sleeping there with profound peace. The dim light of the fireflies fell across his tranquil face. Len stood up slowly and cautiously approached the boy. Seeing him lying so comfortably in such a desolate place, Len steadied his voice and asked:
"Who are you? And why are you sleeping here like this?"
Not even a breath of a response stirred within the silence. Len leaned down once more, firming his palms against the boy's shoulders.
He nudged him with all his strength, yet the body remained utterly still. In his growing unrest, Len's hand moved upward, his fingers tracing the contours of that silent face.
The moment Len's fingertips made contact with the skin, a sharp transformation took hold within his own golden eyes.
His pupils dilated rapidly, and the golden radiance erupting from them became far more piercing and intense than before. Near the edges of his eyes, toward his ears, the tiny stars began to shimmer with the intensity of burning embers.
On the other side of the trunk, the guards grew apprehensive at Len's prolonged silence. With the heavy clatter of armor, they rounded the tree. At that moment, Len's hand was still firmly anchored to the stranger's face.
But as the thud of the guards' footsteps drew near, the fierce golden light in Len's eyes suddenly calmed, and those shimmering stars dimmed back to their natural state.
The guards' gaze froze on the scene—their young master cupping the face of an unknown boy in his palms. "Master... who is this?
" one of them asked in bewilderment.
Len turned his neck to look at the guards, but his hand remained resting on the boy's cheeks. "I don't know," he replied simply. "I was only trying to wake him."
At that very heartbeat, the unknown boy's lids eased open. His eyes were fully awake, and without moving from his spot, he stared intently at Len. There was a strange pull in his gaze. Looking directly into Len's eyes, he asked a sharp and direct question:
"Why have you placed your hand upon my face?"
Len's gaze remained locked onto the eyes of the stranger who had just questioned him. Those eyes did not belong to an ordinary person; their pupils shimmered with the intensity of a precious crimson gem, even in the dim light.
The boy scanned Len from head to toe with those scarlet eyes and repeated with the same sharpness, "Will you remove your hand from my face? And just what do you think you are doing?"
Len recoiled with a jolt and stood straight. A flicker of nervousness crossed his face. He replied hurriedly, "I... I wasn't trying to trouble you. I was only attempting to wake you. You have been sleeping here for quite some time."
The stranger shifted from his spot. He pressed his palms against the grassy earth and, anchoring his weight upon his hands, slowly pushed himself upward. His movements were measured and calm.
At that moment, one of the guards standing nearby intervened. He issued a warning in his heavy voice, "Master, you should not converse with strangers in this manner. We ought to leave this place at once."
Len ignored the guard's words entirely, as if they had simply vanished into the air. His entire focus remained anchored to the boy with the crimson eyes. A natural and sweet smile drifted across Len's lips. Without hiding his curiosity, he asked the boy:
"Who are you?"
"I don't know," the boy replied curtly.
Without missing a beat, Len launched a barrage of questions. "Fine, then what is your name? Where are you from? Where do you live? Where are your parents? Is this your village?"
The heap of questions brought a frown to the stranger's brow. He snapped in annoyance, "Can't you just be quiet for one second?"
But Len was not about to stop. As soon as he opened his mouth to ask something else, the boy suddenly swung his hand through the air and gave Len a sharp tap on the head. "Be quiet! You talk way too much," he said with an authoritative tone.
Staggered by this sudden strike, Len stumbled and fell onto the grass. Moisture suddenly welled up in the corners of his eyes. He spoke in a trembling voice, "You hate me... why did you hit me?"
Seeing the tears in Len's eyes, the boy's harsh expression softened slightly. He said in a low voice, "I don't hate you."
The guards standing nearby froze in their tracks.
They exchanged bewildered glances, unable to comprehend how a stranger could strike their master, or why their master was crying like a small child instead of retaliating. They remained silent, merely watching this bizarre scene unfold.
"Then why did you hit me?" Len asked, wiping a tear from his eye.
"You make too much noise," the boy answered. "I simply didn't like that."
Len looked at the boy through his tearful eyes and asked with a hopeful smile, "Then... will you be my friend?"
The boy looked at Len intently, as if trying to read his very soul. After a few moments of silence, he nodded. "Fine."
Tears still lingered in Len's eyes, but his face lit up with joy. He said excitedly, "My name is Len! And yours?"
The boy gave no answer. Len's curiosity spiked. "Won't you tell me your name?"
"I don't know my name," the boy said, lowering his gaze.
"Why? Why don't you know your name?" Len asked in astonishment.
The boy grew a bit irritated now. "If I don't know, I just don't know!"
Len's tears had vanished completely by now. He thought for a moment and then asked with a grin, "Alright, then can I call you 'Eric'?"
The boy took a deep breath and shrugged. "Fine, you can call me whatever you want."