My name is Ino, and I am 11 years old.
I used to live in a small, broken-down shack on the outskirts of town.
Life wasn’t wealthy, but it was mine — it belonged entirely to me.
During the day, I went up the mountain to gather herbs or did odd jobs for the adults.
At night, I would mend clothes for others, stitching my own days together needle by needle.
The copper coins I earned were barely enough to raise me.
I would always place a bunch of wildflowers in the small vase by the window.
When I missed my mom and dad, I would talk to it.
I’d say, “Look, I’m doing quite well, so don’t worry.”
To be honest, I really wanted to go find my mom and dad, but the adults all said that cowards don’t go to heaven.
My parents were heroes; they must be waiting for me in heaven!
So, I have to live a good life!
Winter was so cold, but the blacksmith uncle always let me help look after his furnace, so I wasn’t cold.
The fire was warm, like my mother’s embrace.
The uncle’s laughter was terrifying, but the sweet potatoes he roasted were truly delicious.
I added some color to the shack by sticking paintings that the artist sister didn’t want on the walls.
Because that day was my 10th birthday.
It was a day I secretly remembered myself; no one knew about it, and no one celebrated it.
“Kid, happy birthday!”
The aunt from the family where I often did odd jobs brought me a large basket of bread rolls.
The bread was so sweet, and yet a bit salty.
I thought life would always be like this.
I wanted to grow up ordinarily and live out this life normally.
Perhaps I would open a small shop, marry some boy in town, have a few children, and continue running on the hillsides.
Until that day…
The Awakening Mission, which was responsible for patrolling various regions and testing marks, arrived here.
“Ino, the Awakening Mission is here! Aren’t you going to try?”
“I still have a batch of bread to finish baking. You guys go first.”
“Then hurry up!”
An Awakening Mark?
I didn’t think I could do it.
Compared to other children, the only thing I could be proud of was probably inheriting my mother’s looks.
At least a pretty face would let me find work more easily; when I set up a stall, more people would be willing to stop.
They might even buy those unremarkable wildflowers of mine.
Was I looking forward to it? Naturally, I was.
Becoming an Awakened… that was a status everyone dreamed of.
Didn’t Mother also —
“Ino, you’re here!”
“Oh! Our little Miss Strong, why do you look so downcast?”
“Hey! Ino, listen to me! The priest said I’m just strong, and that I’m 100,000 miles away from awakening. It’s so frustrating! Quick, quick! You go try it too! Maybe you’ll awaken?”
The crowd pushed me forward.
My palm hurt as if it had been burned by fire, and a glowing mark appeared.
The patterns, traced in gold thread, were so complex they made me dizzy.
Everyone stared at me, whispering.
I heard someone shout, “That’s the mark of a **[Candidate Saint]**!”
The legendary God-favored, messengers carrying the divine will, those who could become the next Saint — a **[Candidate Saint]** possessed supreme glory and powerful strength.
‘Is it me? But why me?’
I didn’t know.
‘Is it a dream?’
I couldn’t remember what happened after that.
It was as if I had gone blind, or perhaps deaf… It seemed like the town became very lively, and everyone gathered around me.
I woke up at home and opened the door to go to the shop to continue working, but the doorway was crowded with people.
Those people… I didn’t even know them, yet they were all smiling at me like flowers.
They called me “Little No,” “Sister Ino,” and such…
They said they were my relatives?
I almost laughed out loud.
‘So it wasn’t a dream?’
I laughed happily, and they laughed along. I cried, and they cried along.
I knew why I was laughing and why I was crying.
But what were they laughing and crying about?
Their eyes shimmered with greed, like hungry wolves staring at fat meat.
Yet they sent gifts — silks, jewelry, and some even carried heavy bags of coins, saying they wanted to help me “manage” my future wealth.
I didn’t take anything.
The priests from the mission drove them away.
Later, others came claiming to be messengers from the Temple.
They said they wanted to take me to the Temple to undergo “trials.”
Their eyes were ice-cold, staring at me like I was prey.
I didn’t want to go.
I just wanted to keep my little shack and my peaceful days.
But they said a **[Candidate Saint]** must accept the trials; otherwise, it was a “desecration of divine will.”
I asked him what the trial was. He only said, “The gods will guide you.”
I said I needed to consider it.
The next day, that so-called divine messenger was hung on a cross.
A white-robed priest from the Awakening Mission came to find me.
He said the status the mark gave me was not something I could refuse; it was “divine will.”
He hoped I would go back with them.
That’s what he said to all the Awakened!
That’s also what the people who took Mother away said back then! In the same name, they dragged Mother into the flames of war!
I didn’t want to become their pawn, a puppet pushed onto the altar by fate.
I didn’t agree.
The people from the Awakening Mission stationed themselves in the town, but they no longer stopped others from approaching me.
During the day, I stayed home, but the knocking on the door never stopped.
When I went outside, someone was always following me.
They stared at the mark on my hand as if they wanted to dig it out.
At night, strange shadows always flickered outside the window, as if even the sound of the wind was spying on me.
When I came home, the lock on the door was always being picked, and the things in the house were flipped into a mess.
The flowers were scattered, and the vase was broken… the paintings on the wall were torn clean off.
Every day, I only dared to sit with my back against the door, only closing my eyes once morning came.
Later, I heard people gossiping in the market.
Some noble intended to “receive” me into his house as an “adopted daughter.”
A certain baron from the border said he wanted to use my blood to complete some ritual.
In the end, there were even rumors that dark faction assassins had appeared in town!
I didn’t know what tomorrow would be like, but I knew I had to do something!
‘I want to run away, I really want to run away! Maybe go somewhere where no one knows me and start over.’
I began to plan my escape.
No one knew that there was a passage under my bed that led all the way outside the town!
When I was little, whenever there was a full moon, my father would always sneak me out through there.
We would run to the mountain top to see the stars, and he taught me how to identify directions.
‘Did Father… did he already know this day would come?’
I didn’t know… but now, this passage became my salvation.
I succeeded!
I brought my parents’ mementos, the old scissors that grew up with me, and a few pieces of bread…
I want to flee to the Great Southern Forest; no one dares to enter there easily.
I would rather be torn apart by jackals than associate with those people!
I want to let Mom and Dad see! I am not a coward!
***
I don’t know how long I ran. I don’t remember how many times I tripped.
I didn’t dare stop.
When it got light, I realized I had run to the riverbank in the forest, far away from home.
The river water was so sweet, but I couldn’t help wanting to cry.
But what’s the point of crying? Dad said tears can’t save your life.
The mark began to grow hot, as if it were warning me about something.
The river breeze brought a strange scent. I underestimated them… they’ve found me…