It was a silent evening where only the ominous hooting of the owls could be heard around the thick, mossy trees of the forest. However, little did the owls know, this tranquility was about to meet a quick end soon.

As a young, beautiful maiden wearing a dress white as snow dashed through the forest with her steed, she took a concerned glance at her back before riding even faster than before, having seen her pursuers still haven't let go of her trail. Two men wearing purple capes and flashy caps looked at her threateningly as they readied their crossbows. The woman recognized the Genovesan assassins gaining on her, but she couldn't force her horse to ride faster, for that would bring with it the disasterous conclusion of being left without a steed in the middle of peril. As she held onto the letter she was supposed to deliver, she felt not the fear of death, but the fear of failure crawling on her body.

But there was no time to idle, as the Genovesans both shot their crossbows at the messenger. Making a quick turn, she could barely avoid the first bolt, but she was not so lucky with the second, getting shot in the arm as she lets out a shriek of pain. Struggling to keep on her horse, she could only pray to make it out alive to the Redmont Fief, the place she was supposed to deliver the important news. However, the numbing pain from the poisonous bolt had already started to cover her entire arm. The assassins likely wanted the job done as quick as possible, and they would likely succeed, as she felt her eyes go dark by the moment.

Suddenly, a metal object came flying onto one of the assassins and threw him off of his horse with a loud noise. The other assassin, who was surprised by the sudden development, quickly got shot on the heart by a long, brown arrow, and fell off his horse as well. The young woman looked around, startled, as she saw her pursuers being silently taken out. She couldn't take any more stress, and gave in to the poison, collapsing onto the soft soil of the forest filled with grass.

"I was late, weren't I?" the towering figure uttered in shame. He was none other than the shaggy bearded Ranger of Greenfield Fief, Bryce. Taking the maiden with him, he collected his striker and his arrow, and quickly rode off after tying up the captive assassin, leaving the guards he brought with him to deal with the cold blooded Genovesan.

Taking out his warmweed salve, Bryce tried to clean the wound and treated it with his best, but he knew that it would not be enough. Genovesan poison was often made from rare herbs and would take rarer herbs to cure, leaving the patient completely desperate. The pure white dress was already soiled by bright red blood, and knowing he didn't have much time, Bryce hurried to his own Fief to have the brave messenger treated.

"I'm sorry Bryce, but this is simply impossible." said the Head Healer. The strained and hopeless voice echoed in Bryce's mind, until he could shake it off and reply:

"There should be something we can do, Mark. I can interrogate the Genovesan, an-" his words were cut off by the persistent healer.

"I already know what kind of poison it is, However, we can't harvest the flowers in this season, and they only take effect when fresh, so I'm afraid... I'm afraid..." the healer, Mark, was clearly at a loss for words. It would be out of place for the Head Healer to not know what to do, however, being appointed right after the death of his mentor, he was both shaken and afraid of failure. Still doubting himself, he came to his sense with the long haired ranger's voice, and felt his hand on his shoulder.

"You can do this, Mark. You know that I'll be on your side."

"I know, but... We are literally talking about doing the impossible right here. Can you really find these winter flowers in the middle of spring?"

"I won't forgive myself if I don't try. Now, can you keep her alive as I find it?"

Mark looked at Bryce with a determined face.

"I won't forgive myself if I don't try."

"That's what I wanted to hear. Good to have you back, Mark." Bryce gave the healer a small smile.

He got out of the lightly decorated, humble castle of Greenfield and rode on his horse, Feder.

"I was worried you would never return..." said the eyes of the gloomy horse.

"Hush you," said Bryce, "We have no time to play. This one is an emergency."

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From the window of the castle, Mark watched the shadow of the mounted ranger go smaller and smaller, until he couldn't see it anymore, like he was supposed to.

Taking out one of his maps, Bryce marked down the nearby forests that could have the flowers in it. Greenfield, despite being a minor Fief, had its benefits. Rare herbs could be found lying deep in the forest, if only searched with expertise. However, the seasoned ranger had doubts about finding a flower that hasn't wilted yet. He rode on Feder through the thick woods, careful to avoid making noise, until the forest was too dense to proceed with a steed. He left Feder on a secure spot where his trusty horse could alert him of any suspicious activity, then went deeper inside the sea of green, and disappeared from view.

The forest was brimming with grass, trees and moss. The soft, brown soil beneath made it harder to tread without leaving any footprints, and the long, intertwining branches of the tall mossy trees blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving a dim, yet strangely peaceful labyrinth underneath. Searching for a lead, Bryce closed his eyes for a second and listened to his surroundings. Birds chirping, rivers flowing, squirrels wandering around, bushes rustling... Suddenly, he noticed he didn't feel any wind, which meant the bushes were suspiciously noisy. He turned around to take a look, but couldn't see anything out of place. Better safe than sorry, he thought, and cautiously approached the bushes. Lying beneath the leaves was a short, adolescent boy dressed in filthy rags.

The boy tried to run away by instinct, but Bryce grabbed his arm and held tightly. From the frightened face of the child, he could see that he meant no harm, but he wanted to be absolutely sure. After all, nobody had any reason to delve deep inside the forest in this season, let alone hiding in a bush.

"Who are you?" Bryce asked with a threatening voice. The boy didn't speak a word.

"Do you live around here?" He hesitated for a moment, but nodded afterwards.

"You were watching me. Don't think I didn't see." He avoided the ranger's glare and struggled to talk, but he couldn't.

Bryce sighed and kept dragging the boy with him as he kept searching around.

"Regardless, you are coming with me now, whether you are guilty or not." Bryce had a very important mission, and couldn't halt the process for minor things. He could deal with the child later, but the cure couldn't wait any longer. The patient was struggling to survive, and he couldn't possibly leave her to die.

However, his efforts were futile. He couldn't find any herbs or flowers, not even traces of other animals that might help him find the rare flowers. Despite this, he kept searching and searching until he could find a small, wilted white flower that matched the description perfectly. Sadly, the dry flower would be of no use, and there wasn't any of its kind around the place, either.

"I was so close... But I guess I have to keep searching around." He held a petal in his hands, sighing loudly. Time was running out. Suddenly, he felt something tugging at his clothes. That something was the child he took with him. Getting a closer look at him, he saw how malnourished the kid was. His curly, ginger hair were messed up, and his freckles barely showed from the layers of dirt on his face. Despite this, the boy kept his face straight. He was trying to tell the tall ranger something.

"What do you want?" asked Bryce. He was surprised at how silent and obedient his little captive was. The young boy pointed at the petals in his hands, and proceeded to make many hand gestures that made no sense at all. But Bryce caught up to his idea.

"You mean... There is a substitute for the flower?" He nodded and kept tugging the ranger's cape, pointing at somewhere deeper in the forest. Bryce didn't want to believe a stranger he barely knew about, but he didn't have any options left. Desperate for a solution, he made sure he was ready for a potential ambush, and followed after the kid.

With every step, the forest was getting thicker and thicker, and the little bit of sunshine passing through got drowned by the branches, leaving a dark area that blinded Bryce's eyes for a while, until he got used to it, and could notice that the boy had taken him into this damp, dark place for a reason. There were mushrooms growing from everywhere, in various patterns and lengths. Bryce watched the child look around the place, and as soon as he found what he was looking for, he signaled Bryce to come closer. The mushroom the boy picked was the same white color as the flowers.

"So this will work just as well as the flowers I was looking for, is that what you are saying?" said the ranger. The kid nodded silently. Bryce was not convinced yet, but couldn't risk losing a chance.

"Alright, then we are going back to Greenfield." Hearing this, the boy had a shocked expression printed on his face.

"I don't intend to let you go, you know. You should have thought this through before getting too nosy." He once again grabbed the child by his arm, and traced the path back to Feder, ignoring the frightened, blue eyes of the kid looking at him.

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"B-but how!? How could anyone find such a unique alternative in that kind of place?" said Mark, questioning the ranger who came back with a handful of mushrooms in place of flowers.

"Is it any good?" asked Bryce.

"These mushrooms are indeed a rare alternative to the flowers I sent you after. I didn't bother telling you about it, because it is impossible to grow in these lands, but..."

"Well, thankfully, it was possible. Now, you can prepare an antidote with these, right?" Bryce tried to cut in politely.

"Yes, I believe we can. Leave the rest to me, Bryce. Thanks for everything." said Mark with a gentle smile on his face. Nothing could make him more anxious than being trusted with a life, yet nothing could make him happier than saving one.

"Hey, that's my line!" replied Bryce cheerfully.

"Please help her however you can. I'll be leaving now."

Getting one thing off of his chest, Bryce proceeded to another problem in his hands. He still hadn't decided what to do with the kid, but he could easily say he was warmed up to him after what happened.

"Okay, now we are back to you." Bryce approached the child.

"I will begin questioning you now, and you will answer correctly to every question, understood?" He asked calmly. The kid was still anxious but forced himself to nod regardless.

"What is your name?"

"C-clyde." He uttered in a whispery voice.

"I see. Do you have a family, Clyde?" He looked at Bryce's eyes for a split second, then took a big breath.

"I don't."

"Where do you live?"

"I-um... I live..." He kept stuttering and couldn't answer.

"You don't mean you..." Suddenly, Bryce came to the realization that the child in front of him was not just wandering around in the forest, but trying to survive in it. That would explain the attire, and all the wounds and small bruises over his body. Feeling a little ashamed for misjudging Clyde, he tried to soften his voice.

"It's okay. You don't need to answer that last one. So, you haven't got anyone we could contact with?" Clyde shook his head.

"I see... I see." Bryce tilted his head forward and went deep in thought for a moment. Then, he just had an instinctual thought, maybe out of pity, or out of curiosity, or perhaps because he was impressed.

"Clyde," as he heard him, the boy held his breath.

"Would you like to be my apprentice?"