My legs are on fire, but it's a different kind of burn now. Not from the miles, but from the desperate need to keep up. I'm a ghost, but he's the one who taught me to be one. The silence between us isn't a bridge. It's an empty space, but I fill it with a request I never thought I would make. The words are fragile.
"Will you teach me?" My voice is barely a whisper. "Everything you know. I don't want to be lost again."
He doesn't stop. Doesn't even look back. He just gives a single, sharp nod and keeps walking. That's it. My throat clenches. He gave me a mission.
The next morning, it's all on me. He hands me a small, wooden bow. I feel a grim determination. I'll succeed this time. I stalk through the undergrowth, feeling like every step is a failure in waiting. Then I see it—a rabbit. My hands are shaking. The first arrow flies wide. The second. The rabbit bolts, a flash of white tail disappearing into the thorns. I should have just let it go. But the fire in my gut, the one that tells me I'm not worthless, screams at me to follow. I'm an idiot. I knew it then, and I know it now.
The thorns rip at my clothes, my skin. I can taste the rust from the blood on my face. I finally see the rabbit, cornered, panting in terror. But then I hear it. A deep, guttural growl that rattles the ground. It's a boar. Its eyes are red with fury, its tusks like daggers. I can't move. My feet are lead.
It charges. He moves. A blur. I hear the sound of a flint knife. The boar grunts and collapses. He saved me. But then... the tusk. A searing, hot pain. A wet, tearing sound. It's his leg. Not mine. I see it. The crimson stain is spreading across his pants, the blood flowing from the deep gash with a terrifying speed. The ground is turning to a puddle of red. My world goes silent, then a roar of panic fills my ears. He's the one on the ground. The one I can't live without.
I don't know what to do. My hands shake, but I force them. I rip a strip from my tunic. I have to stop the bleeding. He doesn't say a word, his face a mask of pain. He tries to stand, but his leg buckles. I put his arm over my shoulder, and his weight is an impossible burden on my thin frame. He's a mountain, and I'm nothing. I can't do this. I'm going to fail. He's going to die. I have to be strong for him. I have to.
We stumble into a clearing. It's a village. Old buildings, overgrown and silent. The air here feels heavy with ghosts. He groans, a sound so raw it makes my heart stop. I stumble toward a small cottage with a caved-in roof. The door hangs on a single hinge, groaning as I push it open. Inside, it's dark and smells of rot and dust. The only light comes from a small, jagged hole in the ceiling.
I lay him down. The blood is everywhere. I feel the panic rising in my throat again. I have to do something. My hands are clumsy and fumbling. I press down on the wound. His muscles tense, but he doesn't pull away. I have no idea what I'm doing. My A.I. training system has protocols for hacking databases. There's no protocol for this. There's no tutorial for stopping a man from bleeding to death. I'm useless.
"Water," he whispers.
I grab a handful of murky water from a rusted pump and race back. I manage to get a small amount to his lips. He drinks it slowly. He's so still. I have to do more. My eyes dart around the dark room. I see it. Tucked into a small alcove, half-hidden by leaves, is a small, sealed wooden box. I don't care what's in it. I grab the box, and my trembling fingers tear at the clasp. Inside is a roll of clean, white bandages.
The sight of them makes me want to cry with relief. I don't care about the golden liquid or the notebook. I grab the bandages, and begin to work on the wound, washing it with the last of the murky water. He doesn't say anything, but for the first time since the boar, his muscles relax. He just lies there, his breathing a shallow whisper. I sit beside him, exhausted and terrified. The roles have been reversed. I am not the helpless one anymore. But I am still scared. I have a purpose now, a terrifying one. And his life, the life of a man who saved me, is now entirely in my hands.