At the End of the Ashen Forest, the Sage Learns of the Boy's Past Life
The continent's frontier, where the forest elves once flourished and are now said to have perished. The deep Ashen Woods spread everywhere, where miasma and beasts keep people away. Magic remains only as ancient relics and curses, never systematized. Villages are isolated, and the closed societies fiercely expel heretics. The village where the boy was born has a law to quarantine, not kill, the cursed children.
Sol, a boy with memories of a past life, has lived in lonely isolation as the cursed
At the End of the Ashen Forest, the Sage Learns of the Boy's Past Life - The Village That Erased Blood
The air in the square clung to his skin.
It was a full moon.
In a cloudless sky, the white moon hung overhead as though looking down on everything below. Its light bathed the village square of Rusta in a pale, ghostly blue.
At the center stood the purification ash censer. Ash-white smoke rose in a thin, straight line. The smell of it — bitter and sweet, like rotting flowers. Soru had been smelling it for sixteen years.
Around the censer, firewood had been piled.
Dry ash-pine logs. The scent of resin. Once lit, they would consume everything in moments.
(That's the wood they'll burn me with.)
Soru stood at the edge of the square.
His arms were bound behind his back. The rough rope bit into his wrists. The fibers scraped against his skin. There was no pain.
There was no room left for pain.
The villagers surrounded the square.
Old and young, men and women, children too. All hundred and twenty souls of Rusta were there. Every one of them was looking at Soru.
(They're watching me.)
(That's fine.)
(I chose to stand here myself.)
At the center of the square, before the censer, stood Fedo.
His gray-streaked white hair was slicked back, and his sharp gray eyes glinted coldly under the moonlight. The old scar running vertically through his right eye seemed carved deeper in the pale light. The ring on his left hand — the killing stone — gave off a dull gleam.
Beside Fedo stood the prayer-keeper, Marg.
An old man wrapped in black robes, his thin frame swallowed by the fabric, a white beard hanging to his chest. When his eyes turned to Soru, they always narrowed as though weighing something.
Behind Marg, the pursuers stood in a row.
Eight of them. Each gripped a killing stone, the scent of wormwood drifting from their bodies. Two hunting dogs growled low at their feet.
"By the old law, I now begin the Rite of Purification Ash."
Fedo's voice rang across the square.
Low, flat, without inflection. And yet it carried a weight that allowed no argument.
"Soru, child of impurity. You bear the defilement of the Forest People within you, and you have brought calamity upon this village. The poor harvests, the plagues, the fires — all of it was caused by your corruption."
Fedo began reciting the old statutes from memory.
"A vessel of impurity must be cleansed by the flame of purification ash. Then shall peace return to the village, and the wrath of the Ashen Forest be appeased. So it is written in the law passed down since ancient times."
A small murmur rippled through the villagers.
The elders began chanting the words of purification. Low, muffled, incantation-like voices. Those voices made the air in the square even heavier.
The young ones watched Soru, holding their breath.
(They're wavering.)
(Those who heard my words in the square that day.)
(But they still can't move.)
Soru looked at each villager's face, one by one.
A young man averted his eyes.
A middle-aged woman hung her head.
A child buried their face in their parent's back.
No one was looking at Soru.
(I see.)
(So you're all still going to stay silent.)
Fedo raised his right hand.
"Bind him."
Two of the pursuers approached Soru from either side.
One looped a thick rope around Soru's neck.
The feel of it. The rough fibers bit into the skin of his throat.
(This is the rope of sacrifice.)
(For sixteen years, I feared this rope.)
(But now, it's different.)
Soru lifted his head.
And looked straight into Fedo's eyes.
Fedo's gray eyes faltered for just a moment.
(Ah, that's right.)
(You're afraid of these eyes of mine.)
(You've been afraid of something all along.)
Just before the rope was tightened, Soru reached toward his chest.
His bound wrists. His fingertips touched what had been pressed inside his clothing.
Parchment.
A copy of the old law.
Something he had taken back from beneath the floorboards of the village chief's house last night.
And something he had deciphered with Yorgen's and Marg's help.
Soru drew it out.
"Stop."
His voice came out.
Even he was surprised by how calm it sounded.
Fedo's hand stopped.
The murmuring of the villagers cut off cleanly.
The square fell silent as though struck by water.
Soru held the parchment high with both bound hands.
The moonlight shone through the old parchment.
"I want you to look at this."
He said.
"This is a copy of the law passed down in this village. It was hidden beneath the floor of the village chief's house."
A stir ran through the villagers.
"What nonsense from a child of impurity."
Fedo's voice cut sharply.
"I've never seen such a thing. It must be your delusion."
Soru ignored him.
He walked toward the center of the square, parchment in hand.
One of the pursuers moved to stop him.
But Soru did not halt.
"There are words written in blood on this copy."
Soru traced a spot on the parchment with his finger.
"Here. This clause. In the old law, it read: 'As atonement to the Forest People, to appease the wrath of the Ashen Forest.'"
He slid his finger to the adjacent text.
"But in this copy, this part has been erased. The blood characters have been scraped away. And in their place, different words have been added."
He traced each character with his finger.
"'Impurity.' 'Atonement to the Forest People' has been rewritten as 'purification of impurity.'"
The square stirred.
"What's he saying?" "Can he even read?" "No, but that thing, it's..."
Voices rose from all around.
Soru continued.
"It's not just one place. The newer the clause, the more the blood characters have been erased and replaced with the word 'impurity.' The law of sacrifice didn't exist from the beginning. Someone rewrote it afterward."
"Silence!"
Fedo's roar echoed across the square.
"Where did you get such a forgery! You can't even read! Someone put you up to this! Do not lend your ears to the ravings of a child of impurity!"
Fedo shouted at the villagers.
But his voice was different from before.
(It's shaking.)
(Fedo's voice is shaking.)
Soru felt it clearly.
That was when it happened.
"That copy is genuine."
A low, rasping voice echoed across the square.
Every gaze converged on Marg.
The old man in black robes stepped slowly forward.
His white beard gleamed silver in the moonlight.
"As prayer-keeper, I have upheld the laws of this village for many years. And I acknowledge it. That copy is genuine. And it is also true that the blood characters written there have been scraped away and rewritten."
The square fell silent.
Everyone listened to Marg's words with expressions of disbelief.
The prayer-keeper had denied the village chief's words.
It was unprecedented.
"Marg... you..."
Fedo's face went pale under the moonlight.
Marg looked at Fedo directly.
"I knew. I have always known. That the newer the clause, the more the blood characters were erased and the word 'impurity' added. And I know whose hand made those changes."
The villagers stirred at his words.
"Who?" "Who did it?"
Marg did not answer.
He simply stared at Fedo.
Fedo took a step back.
"Y-you... what are you saying... This was for the village! It was necessary to protect the village!"
Fedo shouted at the villagers.
"Listen, all of you! This village has been threatened by impurity! The poor harvests, the plagues — all the curse of the Forest People! The law exists to protect the village from that curse! A few rewrites are no problem at all! If anything, they are revisions that make the village stronger, more righteous!"
But the villagers' reaction was cold.
No one nodded at Fedo's words.
Soru looked at Fedo.
(What is this man even saying right now?)
(He just admitted he rewrote the law himself.)
(In front of the villagers, with his own mouth.)
Soru stepped forward once more.
"Village chief. You knew that the law of sacrifice was meant as atonement to the Forest People. And you rewrote it into purification of impurity. Why?"
Fedo did not answer.
"I want you to answer. Why did you rewrite it?"
Silence.
"...Isn't it obvious. For the village."
Fedo said, as though forcing the words out.
"Atonement to the Forest People means nothing anymore. The Forest People are gone. I could not entrust the village's fate to such a thing. To protect the village, something stronger, something simpler, was needed — fear. Purifying impurity. That is what unites the villagers and becomes the power to protect the village. I believed that, and I changed the law."
Soru listened to Fedo's words.
(Does this man truly believe that?)
(That it's for the village, truly?)
(But because of that, how many children of impurity were burned?)
(Because of that, I was locked in that hut for sixteen years.)
Soru slowly shook his head.
"You're wrong."
He said.
"You didn't rewrite the law for the village. You did it for yourself. You used the villagers' anxiety for your own power. By blaming every poor harvest and plague on the children of impurity, you controlled them. Isn't that right?"
"Silence! Silence, silence!"
Fedo screamed.
"What would the likes of you know! You are a child of impurity! A loathsome being bearing the defilement of the Forest People! What could you possibly understand of this village, of its chief!"
Soru listened quietly.
(This man still sees me as nothing but a child of impurity.)
(But that's fine now.)
(I won't be frightened by those words anymore.)
Soru took a deep breath.
Then he turned toward the villagers.
"...There is something I must tell all of you."
His voice was quiet.
But that quietness only made the air in the square more taut.
"I am a descendant of the survivors of the expeditionary force that destroyed the Forest People."
The square froze.
"I learned it on the Sage's Mountain. My past life was a soldier who hunted down the Forest People in that war. The blood of those who killed the Forest People flows in my veins."
A stir spread through the villagers.
"What is he saying?" "Has he lost his mind?" "A descendant of the expeditionary force...?"
Soru continued.
"But it's not just me."
He looked at each villager in turn.
"The first villagers of this village were soldiers of the expeditionary force. A roster remains in the archives. All of you also carry the blood of the expeditionary force that destroyed the Forest People."
Silence.
A deep, deep silence enveloped the entire square.
No one could say anything.
Soru's words sank heavily into the depths of the villagers' hearts.
"You call me a child of impurity. A cursed child bearing the defilement of the Forest People. But that impurity is not something in my blood."
Soru stepped forward.
"What you call impurity is not my blood. You have simply pinned onto me the sins your own ancestors committed."
Those words fell upon the square.
Silence.
Only the moonlight illuminated everything in pale blue.
(I said it.)
(I said it.)
(This is my answer.)
Soru thought this quietly, deep in his chest.
He would neither blame nor forgive.
He had simply laid out the truth.
That was all.
That was when it happened.
"Silence! Silence, silence, silence!"
One of the elders screamed and lunged at Soru.
"You child of impurity! How dare you, how dare you speak of our ancestors with such filth!"
The old man grabbed Soru's arm.
He squeezed the bound arm tight.
"You are a sacrifice! You are meant to be burned! That is the law of this village!"
The old man's hand yanked the rope around Soru's neck.
His throat constricted.
He couldn't breathe.
(Ah.)
(So this is how it ends after all.)
Soru did not resist.
He had no strength left to resist.
(But it's enough.)
(My words reached them.)
(They reached some of them.)
(That's enough.)
Soru started to close his eyes.
That was when it happened.
"Stop."
A trembling voice echoed across the square.
The old man's hand stopped.
"I said stop!"
One of the young men burst out from the crowd.
One of those who had begun to think when Soru spoke in the square that day.
The young man grabbed the old man's arm.
"Did you hear what
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