History has a cruel way of repeating itself, and in my case, it struck with merciless precision.

  The forest was alive with dread.

  Every creak of branches felt like the snap of a hunter's bowstring, every whisper of wind was a hiss of warning. I crouched low, barely daring to breathe. My heart pounded so fiercely I thought it might give me away. The forest's thick canopy twisted shadows over my face as I snuck through the undergrowth, my steps hesitant but hurried.

  The noises behind me—crashing, shouting—drove me forward. I didn’t know what they were, those beasts with sleek black eyes and iron hooves that ate the ground in a steady rhythm. I only knew that when they came, they brought death. And they were coming now.

  ***

  The path was dusty, cracked with jagged stones and long-forgotten weeds. I ran on it anyway, barefoot and frantic, the soles of my feet raw. My chest burned with every breath, but I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop.

  "Mum!" I shouted as I stumbled onto the open stretch of the village outskirts, my voice clawing at the still air.

  She was there, standing with her water gourd balanced precariously on her head, her face weathered from the sun but calm. For a fleeting moment, my mother didn’t look like someone whose life was about to shatter.

  "Kane?" she called, her voice tinged with surprise. Her smile flickered when she saw my frantic state—my dirt-streaked face, my wide eyes. The gourd wobbled as she shifted, concern knitting her brow. "What's wrong?"

  "Drop it, Mum!" I gasped, skidding to a stop and clutching at her wrist with trembling hands. "We have to go!"

  Her eyes darted to mine, searching for clarity, but I couldn’t form anything coherent. My words were strangled, frantic bursts. "They're coming! Those beasts—those... things! They’re bringing death, Mum! The village is gone! People are dead, Mum, dead!"

  Her confusion hardened into alarm, but still, she hesitated. "Kane, slow down. What things? What are you talking about?"

  My throat was raw from shouting, and panic clawed at my chest. "No time!" I screamed, gripping her wrist harder. "They have chains. And fire. They’ll find us, Mum! They’ll find us if we don’t—"

  A deep rumble echoed in the distance.

  The noise froze both of us. It wasn’t thunder—it was rhythmic, steady, like fists hammering the earth in a growing tide. My breath caught as I realized it was them.

  "They’re close," I whispered. "Please, Mum. Run."

  She finally moved, her trembling fingers reaching for the gourd as if it still mattered. The sight made my vision blur with frustrated tears.

  "Leave it!" I snapped, knocking the thing from her hands. It hit the ground with a hollow thud, water spilling into the cracked dirt. I seized her hand, dragging her forward. "Run, Mum!"

  We plunged into the forest, the cries of the invaders—and the steady pounding of their beasts—following us. My legs burned as branches scraped my face and arms, but I didn’t stop.

  Then, her scream tore through the air.

  I whirled around, barely catching her fall as she crumpled to the ground. Her leg—oh God, her leg—was caught in a vicious iron trap, its jagged teeth biting deep into her calf. Blood poured out, staining the ground in sticky rivulets.

  She clawed at the trap, her face twisted in agony. "Kane—"

  "I’m here! I’m here!" I dropped beside her, my hands fumbling over the cruel contraption. It was foreign, unlike anything I’d ever seen before, its sharp edges slick with her blood. I pulled at it, desperate, but the metal wouldn’t give.

  "Leave it," she hissed through gritted teeth. Her face was pale, her lips trembling as she tried to meet my gaze. "Kane, leave me! You have to run!"

  "No!" My shout rang out like a whip crack. Tears blurred my vision as I yanked at the trap again, my hands slipping. Blood smeared over my fingers, hot and sticky. "I’m not leaving you! I won’t!"

  Her hand shot out, gripping my arm. Her strength startled me. "You’ll die here if you stay! They’ll find us!" Her voice cracked, and for the first time, I saw fear in her eyes—not for herself, but for me.

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  "I don’t care!" I screamed back. The trap finally budged, snapping open with a metallic clang, and her leg came free. Blood gushed from the deep punctures in her calf, the wounds jagged and cruel. "I’m not leaving you!"

  Her breaths were shallow, her pain evident, but her hand clutched my shirt as I crouched beside her. "Kane..."

  I tore a piece of my dirty cloth, wrapping it around her leg watching her wince as it stung.

  "Get on my back!" I ordered, crouching lower. She tried to protest, but I wouldn’t hear it. "Get on, Mum! We don’t have time!"

  The pounding of hooves grew louder, the shouts closer. The invaders were near. Too near.

  Gritting her teeth, she slung her arms over my shoulders, and I gripped her legs as carefully as I could. Blood soaked into my skin as I rose, her weight making me stagger. My legs trembled under her, but I pushed forward.

  We moved deeper into the forest, her groans of pain tearing at me, but I didn’t stop. The air was thick with smoke and fear, the pounding behind us relentless.

  Somewhere ahead, the trees grew denser, their shadows darker. If we could just get there, maybe, just maybe...

  But the hooves kept coming. Closer.

  And I wasn’t sure how much further I could go.

  ***

  Her blood seeped into my torn shirt, warm and sticky, a constant reminder that I was losing her. The cloth I'd tied around her leg was soaked through, dark and useless. But I kept running. I had to.

  The trees blurred around us, a dizzying tunnel of green and shadow. My foot caught on a root, and I nearly went down, but I caught myself, staggering forward with a grunt.

  "Mother," I panted, my throat raw, "you've got to hold on. Just... just a little longer. We're going to make it, okay? We're going to be okay." My words felt hollow, even as I said them.

  Her head leaned against mine, her breath hot and shallow against my ear.

  "Kane," she murmured. Her voice was so soft, like she was already halfway gone. "My son... I don't think I can make it much longer."

  "No, no, no," I stammered, shaking my head as tears streamed down my face. "Don't say that. Don't you dare say that. You're going to be fine. Just keep your eyes open. Stay with me, Mum. Stay with me."

  She didn't answer right away, and I felt her body grow heavier against me. Her arms slipped further down my shoulders, and I had to adjust to keep her from falling.

  "Kane," she whispered again, "you're such a good boy. Haven't I told you before? Big boys don't cry."

  Her words stabbed into me. How could she say that now? My throat tightened as I bit back a sob.

  "I'm not crying," I lied, my voice cracking. "See? I'm not crying. Just... just hang on. I'll run faster, Mum. I promise."

  She laughed softly, a sound so faint it was barely there. "How many sixteen-year-olds can carry their mothers like this?" she said, almost to herself. "I'm surprised they haven't arrowed us down yet."

  I glanced back at her, just as she turned her head. An arrow hissed through the air, so close it skimmed her cheek. She flinched, her eyes going wide.

  Two men on four legged beasts like a cow were closing in, their faces twisted with cruel grins.

  "How'l far ken you run, you lil brat?" one of them taunted, his voice booming over the thunder of hooves.

  My heart dropped into my stomach. I was going to fail her. I was going to fail us both.

  "I have to run faster," I choked, pushing myself harder. My legs screamed in protest, but I ignored the pain.

  "Kane," Mum said, her voice barely audible over the chaos, "listen to me."

  "No, Mum," I said through gritted teeth, "you listen. Don't talk like that. You're going to be fine. You still have to yell at me for being lazy sometimes. You still have to... to make stew and patch up my clothes. You still have to—"

  "Kane," she interrupted, her voice firm but fading. "If I'm going to die, then I'm glad I'm dying in your arms."

  My legs nearly gave out.

  "No," I said, shaking my head violently. "Stop saying that. Stop!"

  She rested her forehead against the back of my neck, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "I love you, Kane. I've always loved you. Like a son. You know that, don't you?"

  Her words struck me like a blow. Like a knife twisting in my chest.

  "You don't have to say this," I said, my voice breaking. "You're not going to die. You're not!"

  "Kane," she whispered, her voice weaker now, "you've always wondered, haven't you? About where you came from? That question has pricked you countless times but you never asked, you decided to avoid the topic for so long."

  My chest tightened. "Mum, don't. Please."

  "The truth is....you're not... you're not my birth son," she said, her words stumbling over themselves. "I've always wanted to tell you. Seth and I—we found you, Kane. We took you in because... because you're special. You're so much more than you know. We prayed to God for a child because we couldn't conceive and he answered our prayers and brought you to us in a basket by the ocean."

  I stumbled to a stop, my legs unable to carry us any further.

  "You're lying," I said, tears streaming down my face. "Stop lying!"

  Another arrow whizzed past us, embedding itself into a tree. The men were so close now, I could hear their beasts snorting, their laughter echoing like a death knell.

  Mum fumbled with something around her neck, and before I realized what she was doing, she slipped her amulet off and wore it around my neck.

  "This is yours now," she said, her voice trembling. "Your father... your real father, he was a great warrior, Kane. But he made enemies. Enemies who would do anything to destroy him. You're his legacy. His blood. His strength. And you... you will face trials, just like he did."

  Her words didn't make sense. None of this made sense.

  "I don't care!" I screamed, clutching the amulet in my fist. "You're my mum! That's all that matters!"

  She smiled weakly, her eyes glassy and unfocused. "Keep running, Kane," she said. "Don't stop running. Don't stop fighting. Stay alive."

  "Mum, no!" I screamed as her body went limp on my back.

  The men roared with laughter as they closed in, their arrows nocked and ready.

  The moment it happened, everything slowed to a crawl.

  The sharp thwip of the arrow sliced through the air, and then I felt her weight shift. I didn't understand at first. My legs were still moving, my lungs still burning, but suddenly, she wasn't there.

  Her arm slid from my shoulder, her body slipping away like water through my fingers.

  "Mum!" I screamed, my voice ripping through the forest. I turned just as she fell, her body crumpling to the ground like a broken doll. The arrow jutted from the back of her head, her blood dark against the grass.

  I froze. My knees buckled, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. My chest heaved, but no air came. My hands twitched, reaching for her, but they didn't move far enough.

  "Mum...?"

  ___

  Did you know?

  The terrifying beasts that the Samarians couldn’t recognize were, in fact, horses—common creatures in the wider world. However, the Samarians, isolated and unacquainted with the broader realms beyond their islands, had never encountered such animals. Their ignorance wasn’t born of foolishness but of confinement to their own world, a sheltered existence shaped by tradition and fear of the unknown.

  This isolation wasn’t arbitrary—it was rooted in a painful lesson from history. Their neighboring island, Lume, suffered a tragic fate in the past. The devastating attacks by outsiders, which led to the enslavement of many Lums, left scars that served as a warning to the Samarians. Over generations, they chose safety over exploration, visiting only the nearby islands and shunning the greater world.

  As a result, creatures as familiar as horses became alien to them, symbols of an outsideworld they had chosen to forget. When those beasts arrived with invaders, their foreignness became yet another weapon, amplifying the fear and chaos of the attack.

  ___