Wild Bison (Part 1)

In the blink of an eye, it was already November. The sky hung dark and gloomy, vast swathes of grayish-white clouds like mourners' faces, sighing endlessly as they tangled and circled overhead. There was no bright sunshine, nor any cheerful mood. Nick's home was wrapped in an atmosphere of sorrow so heavy it made people struggle to breathe.

A week had passed since Nick's injury. After three days of treatment from the Druid Jefa, he had managed to snatch his life back from the jaws of death. But Nick's internal organs had suffered damage after all. Though they had been repaired through treatment, he would never again be able to engage in strenuous physical labor.

And for now, he had to remain in bed and recuperate for another month.

What did this mean for a not-so-well-off family with only one son? Yes, it meant their future had lost all hope. It meant that as his parents grew old, this household would gradually sink into hardship.

Nick's family was an ordinary household in town. They had a patch of farmland. His father, old Kelin, was a lumberjack, while his mother was an ordinary farm woman. Though they could barely keep themselves fed and clothed, before Nick was injured, the family had worked hard every day and never lost faith in life. They lived in poverty, yet remained strong. This was more or less the portrait of every resident's life in the small town.

They were busy, yet strong because hope still existed.

That hope rested on their son. Nothing could bring them more hope than a healthy and capable son. Though Nick had been mischievous before turning sixteen and had never given them peace of mind, who had not loved to play as a child? So long as he did not cause some great disaster, he would naturally grow into a steady, hardworking, qualified town resident, becoming the pillar holding up this family.

But now, the pillar of their future had broken. From the moment Nick had been carried home until now, this poor household had remained shrouded in an oppressive atmosphere.

"Nick, have some soup!" Nick's mother was only in her early thirties this year, yet heavy physical labor and years of wind and sun had already turned her hair gray, roughened her skin, and made her figure slightly plump.

At this moment, she carefully ladled the tiny amount of meat broth from the pot into a bowl, then carried it to the bedside. There, Nick, who had always been lively and restless, lay listlessly on his side, staring blankly at the large tree by the window.

"Mom, I don't want any." Unlike before, when his eyes would shine at the sight of meat, Nick now showed little interest even in a fragrant bowl of meat soup.

Perhaps at first, he had indeed enjoyed not having to work and being able to sleep every day. But when he learned that he might spend countless days and nights like this in the future—unable to run freely, unable to practice martial arts, unable to help his parents with heavy work—he panicked.

Truly, Nick was terrified now. He did not know what he could do in the future. If the Nick before sixteen had merely been a boy trailing behind Romon and Fafier, running in circles after them, then after enduring such a disaster and passing his sixteenth birthday amid suffering, he began to reflect upon his former life.

Before turning sixteen, he had possessed a thin but healthy body, a poor yet carefree childhood, and optimistic, diligent parents. But after turning sixteen, he had lost everything. His body was ruined, his future was gone, and his parents always wore worried expressions. What was he supposed to do? What was his family supposed to do? Nick stared at the large tree outside and thought in confusion.

Seeing that he refused to drink the soup, Nick's mother could only sigh. She set the bowl on the wooden table beside the bed, then carefully covered it with a larger bowl.

Although Romon had paid for Nick's treatment, Nick's parents still did everything they could to buy nutritious food for their son so he could recover sooner. Their already impoverished family had long since exhausted all their savings. Even this little bit of meat soup had been made from meat the couple had bought with money borrowed from their neighbors!

Nick turned his head and watched his mother leave with a stooped back. His nose stung, and he almost cried. Then he looked at the two stacked bowls on the table, and regret gradually filled his heart.

If he could become healthy again, if he had not gone out with them that day...

"Ah! Romon! Fafier came too?" Suddenly, old Kelin's voice came from outside. Was that... Romon? Nick forced himself to sit up a little higher and looked through the window. Sure enough, two figures had appeared at the entrance to Nick's home. The handsome youth walking in front was none other than his good friend Romon!

For a moment, Nick's feelings were complicated. He did not know what attitude he should take toward this friend from the past.

He knew he should not blame him. Although the hunting trip that day had been Romon's suggestion, he himself had willingly gone along. He could not place all the blame for his injury on the other two. Besides, Romon had even incurred an enormous debt of three hundred silver coins in order to save him.

But seeing his family about to fall into despair because of this incident, even if Nick did not resent Romon, it was difficult for him to face him with the same peace of mind as before.

If... if it had not been his suggestion, perhaps... perhaps he would still be living healthily now...

Looking out through the window, Romon, who was the same age as him, had developed a slightly bronze complexion from practicing swordsmanship lately. It made his handsome face seem even more masculine, while his brows and eyes brimmed with a confidence none of the town's other youths possessed.

Nick stared slightly dazed. Since when had his former good friend transformed into someone so outstanding? While he himself now had no choice but to...

"Romon, Fafier, hurry in. Nick is lying in bed. He refuses to eat anything. Please persuade him. How can this go on?" Nick's mother went outside and forced a smile at Romon and Fafier before speaking with a face full of worry.

Romon sighed as well. Let alone Nick—if it had been him, and someone had suddenly declared that he would be half-crippled for the rest of his life, he would not have felt any better either.

After comforting Nick's mother for a few words, Romon practically forced the two pheasants he was carrying into her hands before pushing open the door and walking inside. Fafier followed behind him. The moment they entered, a pungent medicinal smell rushed straight into their noses, making both of them sneeze.

Romon rubbed his nose and surveyed the crude little house. Then his gaze settled on the bed. On the wooden plank bed covered by a layer of cotton bedding, a youth lay on his side with a despondent expression, facing the window.

"Nick?" Romon called softly.

"Nick, it's us! Fafier and Romon! Are you feeling any better?" Fafier walked over and patted Nick on the back.

When Nick turned around, not only Fafier, but even Romon was startled.

"Nick, you..." Romon and Fafier stared at the person before them in utter astonishment. This gaunt person. It had only been a few days since they last met, yet the lively, round-faced youth had already become haggard beyond recognition. He had not only lost a great deal of weight, but there was not the slightest spark left in his eyes.

"Nick, are you all right?" After recovering from his shock, Fafier hurriedly asked. "Your mother said you refuse to eat. Why? Don't you want to fight alongside us again like before?"

Nick shook his head and said mockingly, "You don't need to hide it from me anymore. My body is ruined! What is there to say about being like before..."

After remaining silent for a while, Romon suddenly said, "Actually, it isn't impossible for your body to recover completely."

"What did you say?" An incomparably bright light suddenly burst into Nick's eyes as he looked at Romon. But soon, that light dimmed again. "Enough. You don't need to comfort me. Didn't even the Druid Jefa say I would be half-crippled from now on? What other way could there be?"

"Just because a Druid cannot heal someone does not mean a priest cannot. Priests are the professionals, after all. And even if ordinary priests cannot treat you, there are high-level priests, aren't there? As long as there is hope, anything is possible." Romon patted Nick's shoulder. "Rest well at home. Don't worry about money—I'll help you. As long as there is still hope, never give up."

With that, he pulled Fafier away at a brisk pace.

Only after they left Nick's home did Fafier ask curiously, "Romon, even Druid Jefa said Nick's injury could not be completely healed. Do you really have a way?"

As he walked, Romon kicked at the stones by the roadside. "I can't guarantee that his injury can definitely be cured. But having hope is better than having none."

Because a soul had possessed his body, Romon had initially regarded this body's former friends with some intention of using them. When Nick was injured, the first thing he thought of was only how to reduce the impact and prevent the injury from affecting his future hunting plans. His guilt toward Nick had only erupted when he saw Nick's dispirited expression. Though Nick had not said any words of blame, Romon still felt that he ought to do something more.

Romon sighed, then said to Fafier, "I plan to go hunting in the forest tomorrow. Are you coming?"

Though Nick's injury was still fresh in his mind, Fafier accepted Romon's suggestion without the slightest hesitation.

At first light the next day, the two brought enough dried provisions and water, each carrying his weapon as they headed into the forest. The forest was somewhat cold in the morning. Fafier kept breathing warm air onto his hands to warm them. Unlike him, the somewhat slender Romon was full of energy, constantly searching the surroundings for traces of prey.

"Fafier, wait." Romon suddenly stopped. Before him lay a pile of animal droppings, and he crouched down to inspect it.

Only after a long while did he rise and say to Fafier, "A few herbivores passed through here not long ago. There aren't many of them. Let's follow and take a look."

Fafier nodded, removed the bow and arrows from his shoulder, and closely followed behind Romon.

After walking for a little over a mile, they came upon a river. There were many clumps of grass on both banks. The two carefully concealed themselves and looked toward the riverbank.

Sure enough, three wild bison—one large and two small—were lying by the river, drinking water.