Tyler couldn't remember the last time he felt happiness.

  Every morning, he woke up to a suffocating silence. Not the peaceful kind, but a heavy, oppressive quiet, like a boulder pressing against his chest. The walls of the house were dull and cold, filled with the smell of old cigarettes and burnt food. There were no pictures decorating the place, no warmth, no signs of a "home."

  His father, if he wasn't lost in restless sleep, was in a constant state of rage, shouting or scolding endlessly. There was no love, no mercy, no calm.

  "You're a failure, just like your mother!" This was his father's constant mantra, a curse thrown at him daily.

  His mother, on the other hand, was nothing but a faint memory. His father had told him she had died, without offering any details, no goodbyes, not even a tear. He never saw a grave, never heard any mourning, she just vanished from his life as if erased from existence.

  Over time, he didn't even know if it was the truth or another one of his father's lies.

  At school, he was a ghost. No one talked to him, no one sat next to him, and when they did, it was either to mock him or make fun of him in subtle ways. His old clothes, tired expression, and constant silence made him an easy target.

  His only solace was the guitar.

  He played it quietly in his room, the strings were the only ones that seemed to understand the words he couldn't speak. The guitar was his dream, his only friend, the one thing he felt he truly owned.

  But even that, he wasn't allowed to keep.

  One gloomy day, while he was trying out a new tune, his father barged into the room, shouting:

  "What is this noise? Didn't I tell you these distractions won't feed you?"

  Then, his father grabbed the guitar and slammed it to the ground with force. The strings snapped, the wood cracked, and with it, Tyler's heart shattered.

  He froze, unable to move, unable even to cry.

  That night, the rain fell heavily, as if the sky was mourning what he couldn't bring himself to mourn.

  He put on his worn-out coat and left the house without looking back. He grabbed his old bike and rode through the dark streets of the city, the rain soaking his face and clothes. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew one thing: he didn't want to go back.

  As he sped down a slippery road, his bike suddenly slipped, and he crashed to the ground with a sharp pain in his back and shoulder. The cold mud clung to his hands and face.

  He lay there on the wet ground, alone in the rain, his tears mingling with the rainwater.

  For the first time in his life, he wished it would all end here. That he would end here.

  Then... something he hadn't expected happened.

  From a distance, a girl appeared, wearing a bright yellow raincoat, walking confidently towards him. The faint light reflected off her coat, making her appear almost like something from another world, her figure standing out against the surrounding darkness. As she approached, she bent down and extended her hand to him, speaking in a calm, strange voice:

  "Why are you out here in this weather?"

  Tyler stared at her, momentarily confused. She looked younger than him, but there was something unsettling about her. Her features were soft, but her eyes... her eyes shone a deep, almost unnatural green, like they held a secret far beyond her years.

  She seemed to be perfectly at ease, as if she didn’t belong to this storm, or even this world.

  "You're out here in this too?" he asked, his voice hoarse, but there was an edge of curiosity in it. There was something about her that intrigued him, something that kept him from feeling entirely afraid. His instincts told him she wasn’t like anyone he had ever met before, but that didn't scare him as much as it should.

  Tyler blinked slowly, lifting a shaky hand to wipe the rain from his eyes. The cold water clung to his lashes, blurring his vision as he stared at the figure before him. A girl stood just a few feet away, cloaked in a bright yellow raincoat that gleamed under the weak streetlamp above them. In the midst of the dark and howling storm, she looked almost unreal—like a vivid painting against a backdrop of gray.

  Her hair was soaked, strands of it plastered to her cheeks and neck, but she didn’t seem to mind the rain. She stood still, composed, her posture calm and unbothered. There was something about her—something quiet but unnerving. She wasn’t shivering. She wasn’t afraid.

  “…Me?” Her voice was soft, a little airy, almost as if it didn’t quite belong to the world around them. “Oh… I was in the forest.”

  Tyler blinked again, his brows knitting in confusion. “The forest?” he repeated, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and concern. “At this hour? In this weather?”

  His tone was sharper than intended, but it was genuine. Even stray animals would avoid the forest during a storm like this. But here she was—emerging from the trees with nothing but a raincoat, as if she had just gone for a casual stroll.

  He tilted his head, studying her carefully. “What were you doing out there?”

  The girl gave a faint smile—calm, unreadable. “May I ask you the same question?”

  Her words hit him harder than expected.

  Tyler's expression faltered, and he quickly looked away. His eyes followed the curve of the road disappearing into darkness, the flicker of a broken streetlamp, the heavy sheets of rain falling without end. For a moment, he didn’t answer.

  “I…” he began, barely louder than a whisper. “I ran away from home.”

  There was a raw honesty in his voice, something strained and aching. It wasn’t easy to say out loud, but for some reason, saying it to her didn’t feel dangerous. It felt… freeing. The words left his mouth and vanished into the wind, yet they lifted something from his chest.

  “I see,” the girl murmured, glancing around them slowly, thoughtfully.

  Tyler watched her in silence. The storm howled in his ears, cold wind biting at his skin, yet her presence seemed to dull the edge of everything painful. Her green eyes wandered across the landscape like she was looking for something—or perhaps reading something only she could see. The way the light caught in her irises made them gleam, almost glowing in the dark.

  “What’s your name?” Tyler asked at last, his voice softer now, filled with cautious curiosity.

  There was a pause. Then, her gaze returned to him.

  But she didn’t answer.

  “I heard you saying you prefer to die?”

  The words fell from her lips so softly, yet they struck him like a stone to the chest. Tyler froze. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Instead, he stared down at his muddy hands—trembling, scraped, caked in dirt and rain.

  “Yeah,” he whispered, the honesty in his voice startling even himself. “Sometimes I think… it’d be better than this.”

  He made a vague gesture—toward his soaked clothes, his bruised body, the empty road swallowed by storm. “Better than feeling like this every day. Like I’m invisible. Or unwanted.”

  His voice cracked on the last word.

  The girl didn’t reply right away. She simply watched him with a look that wasn’t pity, but something far more complex—understanding, maybe. A soft sigh escaped her lips.

  “Okay, then. First—”

  CRACK!

  A violent thunderclap ripped through the sky, cutting off her words. Tyler flinched hard, instinctively ducking and squeezing his eyes shut. His heart pounded in his chest like a drum, and his breath came out ragged. He glanced up at her, startled and wide-eyed, wondering what she had been about to say.

  The wind grew fiercer, whipping the rain sideways as if the storm itself was listening in on their conversation.

  “Let’s go under a tree first,” she said, her voice barely rising above the howl of the wind, yet still calm.

  Tyler didn’t speak. He simply nodded, limbs heavy and numb, and followed her through the pouring rain to a massive, gnarled tree nearby. Its trunk was thick, bark weathered by time, and its branches stretched out like ancient arms—sheltering, waiting.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  As soon as they reached it, Tyler sank to the ground with a tired groan. He curled into himself, hugging his knees, his back pressed to the trunk. The cold had seeped into his bones, and his chest ached—not just from the fall earlier, but from the weight of everything he had been carrying.

  Then, something changed.

  The girl stepped forward and extended her hand, palm open and fingers slightly curved. Slowly, almost gracefully, the branches above began to move—not swaying with the wind, but truly moving. They bent and twisted, gently lowering themselves like a living curtain, weaving together to create a dome around them. Leaves layered over bark until not a single drop of rain reached them. Warmth pulsed through the air, as though the storm had been locked outside.

  Tyler’s eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat. He sat there, stunned, watching the impossible unfold before him. The tree had obeyed her. Nature had listened.

  His voice came out in a whisper, filled with awe. “You… did that?”

  She turned to him, a faint, amused smirk on her lips. “What? First time?”

  He nodded slowly, eyes still darting from the living shelter around them back to her. “First time seeing anything like this,” he said, still dazed. “I thought… this kind of thing only happened in books or stories.”

  Her expression softened, her green eyes catching the dim light like emeralds.

  “Then maybe,” she said gently, “you’re finally in the right kind of story.”

  She walked slowly to a spot and sat there.

  Tyler found himself watching her every movement with a quiet, stunned awe. There was something about the way she carried herself — composed, grounded, as if the chaos of the storm meant nothing to her. She sat beneath the tree with an air of calm that didn’t match the roaring thunder and howling wind. It was almost as if she belonged there — like she was part of the storm, or maybe above it.

  She took off her yellow raincoat slowly, revealing a form that made Tyler momentarily forget how to breathe.

  Her skin was pale, almost glowing — not the sickly kind of pale, but soft and radiant like moonlight on snow. Her long, slightly curly brown hair clung to her damp face, cascading down her shoulders in wild, graceful waves, like tangled vines of an ancient forest. Some strands danced gently in the breeze, others clung stubbornly to her cheek.

  But it was her eyes that struck him the hardest. Dark green — deep, intense, untamed. They reminded him of thick woods, full of secrets, shadows, and something unspoken. They didn’t soften when she looked at him. They studied him — watched him like he was a puzzle she hadn’t decided how to solve yet. Cold, distant, but not cruel. There was strength there, and something else... something powerful.

  Her clothes didn’t resemble anything worn in this world. She looked like she stepped out of a forgotten legend — her outfit was earthy and strange, like a forest spirit who had come alive. On her back was a carved wooden bow, elegant and ancient, almost humming with magic. A cluster of arrows hung at her side, their tips faintly glowing with green energy, as if nature itself pulsed through them.

  Tyler blinked rapidly, stunned into silence. His mouth hung open slightly as he tried to piece together what he was seeing. “Holy... shit,” he breathed, completely captivated.

  She looked at him calmly. “You said you’d rather die,” she said quietly, her voice cutting through the storm.

  He swallowed, still not quite sure how to react. “I... yeah,” he murmured. “Sometimes I feel like it’d be easier than this.” He gestured vaguely around him — to the storm, the mud, the ache in his chest that never quite went away.

  She stood slowly, brushing the rain from her sleeves, then looked down at him. “Then listen carefully. I can offer you a new life. Somewhere far from here. A place where no one will find you. A home, a job... something real.”

  Tyler’s heart skipped. He stared at her, still seated under the tree. “Wait... what?” he breathed. “You’re serious?”

  She nodded. “Yes. But there’s a cost.”

  He pushed himself up to stand, his wet clothes clinging to his skin. “What kind of cost?”

  “In return,” she said evenly, “you’ll be under someone’s will. For the rest of your life.”

  Tyler stiffened. The words hit him like a cold slap. “Under someone’s will?” he echoed, his voice sharpening. “What does that mean, exactly? Like... I’d belong to you?”

  “Not me,” she said quickly. “Someone else.”

  His eyes narrowed. “So I’d be... what? Owned by someone? Like a slave?” His tone was bitter now, defensive. He took a step back from her. “Is that the deal? You give me a nice house and a job and I give up my freedom? If I say no, do you kill me right here?”

  She didn’t blink. “No,” she said flatly. “You sleep out there. In the rain. Until morning — when they take you to the orphanage.”

  The fire in his chest faltered. He clenched his jaw and crossed his arms, trying to hide the sting of her words. “Fine,” he muttered. “Let me freeze out here. I’ll be a good little orphan then.”

  But she didn’t turn away. Her voice softened, almost gentle. “Think about it, Tyler. Do you really want to stay here? With no one? No food, no warmth, no future?”

  He didn’t answer. The words echoed in his chest.

  “The person you’d belong to,” she continued, “is the master where I come from. He’s... powerful. Respected. You’d be in his hands.”

  Tyler’s glare returned, but this time it was layered with uncertainty. “What would he do to me?”

  “He won’t hurt you,” she said. “And you won’t be a servant.”

  His brow furrowed. “Then what? What would I be? A pet? A toy?” He spat the words out like venom. “Some plaything for a rich man in a faraway land?”

  She looked him dead in the eyes, unwavering. “You’d be a knight,” she said softly. “Something... stronger. Someone like me.”

  That silenced him.

  A knight?

  He stared at her, the gears in his mind turning faster than ever. The storm outside still raged, but inside him, a different storm had begun — one of fear, hope, anger, and curiosity.

  Someone like her?

  What the hell did that even mean?

  He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to process this information. Becoming a knight meant respect, power… but also surrendering his freedom. His pride screamed at him to walk away, but something deep inside — that ache for purpose, for worth — held him in place.

  “And if I agree… when do I leave?”

  “Now.”

  She extended her hand without hesitation. A moment later, a brown bunny hopped out of nowhere and placed a tightly wrapped scroll in her palm, as if summoned by unseen magic.

  He stared, mesmerized by the surreal sight. The bunny blinked up at him before disappearing back into the shadows. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the scroll.

  “A contract,” she replied simply, holding it out to him.

  Tyler stepped closer, slowly accepting the scroll. His fingers trembled as he untied the ribbon and carefully unrolled it. The parchment shimmered faintly in the dim light, and the words were written in elegant, almost glowing script — not like any contract he had ever seen. It wasn’t just a document… it was a poem. A vow.

  The Knight's Pact

  By ink and blood, this vow is sealed,

  To leave behind what pain concealed.

  A shattered past, a broken name,

  Reborn in fire, through trial and flame.

  To serve the Master, strong and true,

  Obey each word, in all you do.

  Your will no longer yours to keep,

  Bound by the oath, both wide and deep.

  No chain shall show, nor collar tight,

  But magic holds you day and night.

  No loophole found, no path to flee,

  This fate is sealed—your soul, the key.

  No harm shall come by Master's hand,

  But tasks unknown shall still demand.

  No death may break this solemn tie,

  For once you fall, the pact shall die.

  You are no toy, nor servant low,

  A knight you'll be, and power grow.

  But all you gain, you gain with price—

  A heavy heart, a roll of dice.

  So sign this scroll, if you dare try,

  And leave behind your old goodbye.

  But once it's done, no turning back,

  You're on the never-ending track.

  He read every word, his lips moving silently as he took it in. The rhythm of the vow echoed in his chest like a heartbeat. "So if I sign this… I belong to him. Forever."

  He looked up at her, eyes burning with fear and wonder. “What if I die during training?”

  “You die?” she said, tilting her head. “Then what’s the point of the contract?”

  He blinked, realizing the truth in her blunt words. The contract wasn’t made for him to die — it was forged to transform him.

  He hesitated. Then asked quietly, “And what if I refuse?”

  She shrugged. “Then don’t.” Her tone was so nonchalant, it almost made him angrier than if she had tried to force him.

  Tyler looked back down at the scroll. His life until now had been nothing but pain, hunger, and silence. If he walked away, he’d go back to that. But if he signed…

  He reached for the pen in her belt. She let him take it without a word, her eyes fixed on him. His fingers brushed hers — warm and calloused. Then he signed.

  His name glowed for a second before the scroll folded itself and disappeared in a flicker of green light.

  “There,” he whispered.

  She glanced at him, her expression unreadable.

  He met her gaze, a storm behind his eyes. “I just sold my soul, didn’t I?”

  “No,” she said at last, voice soft. “You just gave it a purpose.”

  He met her gaze steadily, trying to hide the storm brewing inside him. With that signature, he had just surrendered his freedom — and yet, he couldn’t deny the strange, almost foreign sensation crawling into his chest: relief. A terrifying kind of peace, mixed with the heavy dread of not knowing what came next.

  He waited, watching her carefully, hoping for a sign, an instruction — anything to anchor him to this choice.

  “Follow me now,” she said simply.

  With a graceful wave of her hand, the tree branches that surrounded them moved away , and in an instant, the world returned to its bleak reality. The warmth evaporated like smoke, replaced by the sting of icy wind as the storm surged back to life. Trees shook violently, their bare limbs creaking, and snowflakes swirled with fury around them.

  He gasped softly, instinctively pulling his thin coat tighter around his body. The cold punched the air from his lungs, and he stumbled a step forward to follow her, his boots crunching over frozen leaves. His mind reeled — not just from the cold, but from what he’d done. A magical contract. His name glowing in the air. A vow written in verse. And now, this woman — this stranger — was leading him into a stormy forest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  She moved ahead without hesitation, her pace steady, her figure cutting a path through the storm as if it obeyed her.

  He trailed behind, trying to match her speed, but his feet kept slipping on the wet undergrowth. The cold crept into his fingers, his nose, his bones. His breath came out in ragged puffs as he struggled to keep up, eyes fixed on her silhouette in the dim light.

  His mind kept spiraling. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream, or a hallucination brought on by hunger or exhaustion. But every gust of wind, every frozen droplet on his face, reminded him it was real. Too real.

  Finally, unable to bear the silence, he called out, “Where are we going exactly?”

  There was no answer. Just the howling wind.

  He slipped again, this time catching himself on a low branch. “Hey... at least tell me where I’m signing my life away to.”

  She stopped. Slowly, she turned to face him.

  Her expression had changed completely — the calm mask she’d worn now cracked with clear frustration. Her eyes narrowed, and when she spoke, her voice was cold as the air around them.

  “If you don’t stop asking, I’ll take you to the underworld myself.”

  Her tone was sharp enough to cut through bone.

  His heart lurched. He froze, eyes widening in sheer terror. Did she mean that literally? Was she capable of such a thing?

  “S-sorry…” he stammered, raising his hands slightly, palms outward. “I’ll shut up.”

  His bravado evaporated, carried off by the wind. He kept his eyes down now, afraid to meet her gaze again. The seriousness of the situation was sinking in, and the weight of the contract felt heavier with each step.

  He followed her again — silently this time, his breath shallow, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

  The forest around them was unnaturally quiet. No birds. No animals. Just the wind and their footsteps. Every sound felt amplified, every movement haunted.

  Then she stopped.

  He nearly collided with her and stumbled to a halt, feet skidding slightly in the snow.

  She turned to face him once more.

  He looked up hesitantly, expecting another threat or an order. But her face was unreadable. Calm again — too calm. And that scared him more than the anger had. Was she testing him? Judging him? Regretting picking him?

  His breath caught in his throat as he waited — unsure if she’d speak again or if the silence was part of the test.

  She extended her hand to him — calm, steady, almost regal.

  He stared at it, eyes narrowing in confusion. Her fingers were pale against the shadows of the forest, unmoving, waiting. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. After everything she’d said — the threats, the contract, the silence — what did this gesture mean now?

  But something in her gaze held him. Not kindness, not exactly... but certainty. Power.

  He swallowed hard and slowly reached out, his hand trembling ever so slightly. The moment their skin touched, a jolt of heat pulsed through his arm, like fire had replaced his blood. It was sudden, overwhelming — and almost painful.

  The cold that had clung to him like a second skin was pushed back, replaced by something warm and alive. He barely had time to process it before the world began to spin.

  His breath caught in his throat as a sharp tug yanked at the center of his chest — not physical, but deeper, like his soul itself was being pulled forward. The sensation was unlike anything he'd felt before: not flying, not falling — something in between. The air vanished from his lungs. Colors twisted around him in dizzying swirls, and the pressure in his ears built like he was being dragged through space itself.

  He winced, the pain sharp and strange — not unbearable, but enough to make him gasp.

  Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

  His feet slammed down on solid ground, knees bending slightly under the force. He stumbled forward a step, breath ragged, heart pounding against his ribs like a drum. His hands gripped his sides, and he blinked rapidly, trying to steady himself.

  Gone was the dark, frozen forest.

  In its place stood a clearing bathed in golden light. The trees were tall and full, their leaves rustling softly in a warm breeze. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dancing patterns on the ground. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance. The air smelled of earth and wildflowers, fresh and sweet.

  The warm breeze brushed against his skin, carrying with it the soft scent of wildflowers and earth. Golden sunlight filtered through the high canopy above, casting dancing patterns across the forest floor. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance, their songs delicate and unfamiliar.

  He looked around slowly, eyes wide as he tried to take it all in. The stark contrast between the storm-ridden woods they'd just left and this peaceful haven felt like stepping into another world—one untouched by darkness.

  For a long moment, he said nothing. He simply breathed.

  She stood a few steps ahead of him, her back to the light, waiting.

  He didn’t know what came next. But for the first time in a long while… he didn’t feel lost.

  ~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?