In his whole life, that one had been undoubtedly the strangest way to awake, surrounded by a home-looking ambience, but finding himself in no position to call that place home.

Still numb from the forced sleep, head spinning in a circle and with no strength running in his veins, Ryeowook tried to gather himself the best way and crawled on both hands to lift himself from the ground. Toes pointed in the damp, dirty soil, he curled into himself, so to bring his tired body back up onto his buckling knees. 

Wake up, rise and shine! ...used to say his mother every morning, and Ryeowook usually lazily stirred in his bed of flowers to get up and get ready to follow his mother around, however then, everything surrounding him had just told him that no, that was none of his usual awakenings and that his mother was nowhere near him to greet him with a warm smile under the sun.

Thin threads of weak, crispy grass surrendered through his fingers and cracked, as Ryeowook slowly moved to regain a bit of composure. Everything hurt: his strained back, the trembling legs, his dizzy head, but more that anything else the acrid smell of burnt and fire was ever-present and permeated the air, reaching his delicate nostrils. Such a strong smell nauseated and disturbed him to the point that he had to grab his stomach and cover his mouth to abstain from throwing up.

With tears forming in his eyes, Ryeowook finally took a look around and found himself in a small plot of land that seemed to have been somewhat a garden, many, many years before.

Around him were gnarled trunks that once belonged to healthy and vigorous trees, many of them were chopped and other bent in irregular shapes, but none was clothed in beautiful crowns of foliage just like on Earth, or displaying either one single blossom of a flower. Bushes had disappeared and instead there were bunches of skeletons made from thin brances that used to host roses in many different colors.

Those trees, planted in a yellow decadent ground, were all placed in a circle around a small, muddy basin that in his eyes was to be the last trace of an ancient lake, and the trees stood there, as if powerless knights protecting a treasure faded away long ago.

All that desolation was perhaps a strong image to take in, stronger than any other horrid smell that chanted death all along. And Ryeowook just wanted to abandon himself to a surging wave of tears, sorrowful for the destiny that that little garden had faced by the hands of an unknown source.

While gathered in his sadness, his soft gasps and hiccups were suddenly interrupted by heavy steps approaching. Ryeowook stopped his lamenting cry and, scared, immediately turned around to face his visitor. 

An all black shadow walked in his direction with much decision, looking down at how the little one was getting smaller and smaller into himself in a protective stance, lips bitten in fear and cheeks streaked with tears, while trying to back away.

"Don't... don't be scared" said a voice, and Ryeowook didn't know why nor how, that particular voice - despite being of a lower tone than those ever heard - was also exceptionally warm and somehow instilled in him a certain kind of reassurance. He wanted to hear it again and therefore stilled, waiting for the shadow to speak again.

"Good," the shadow stopped and towered the little one, moving as if it was now thoroughly looking down at him. Ryeowook lifted his head and saw that the shadow wasn't properly one, a product of lights and darkness, instead it was just a human figure covered by a black hood and a long, heavy cape that hung from his shoulders and fell all around him on the ground.

The stranger slowly crouched down and brought himself at the same height of Ryeowook's eyes. Then, with a single gesture, two pale hands emerged from the tangle of black tunics and softly lowered the hood that covered his head.

A soft gasp escaped Ryeowook's lips and he quickly brought his hands to cover his mouth, eyes quivering at the sight that presented itself on the very front: with his auburn, soft hair and the slightly paler complexion he may have looked like one of the many regular human beings inhabiting the surface of Earth, if not for his eyes. 

They were of a glistening ruby red, and shone with eagerness in the darkness, as if his irises were injected with shining, running blood.

"Do you know who I am? By the look of your face, you do" he spoke again, and Ryeowook was put in between a strange f