Magic Adventure: Story About Julius

I was running.

Behind me, the dragon roared. He didn't need to breathe fire—his roar alone tore buildings apart, shattered walls, destroyed everything in its path. The village was gone. Nothing remained but rubble, ash… and screams. So many screams.

I didn't look back. I didn't even know where I was going. My brain refused to think, and my thoughts were a tangled mess. My heart pounded like crazy. My entire body trembled, and I couldn't tell what caused it more—fear, or the brutal reality that everything I knew and loved had been erased in just a few minutes.

Furno.

Our restaurant. Our home.

Warm evenings. Family breakfasts.

Pecky, stubbornly baking his little cakes.

Syrupa with her cup of honey.

Grill, yelling about missing spices.

Mari's constant laughter in the background.

Thea, always so strict.

Mama.

Mama, whose hands always smelled like rosemary.

I saw her buried beneath the beams. I heard her voice telling me to run. I remember her eyes—calm, as if she had already accepted everything as if she knew how it would end and had made peace with it.

I screamed. I cried. But I ran.

Not because I wanted to. But because she told me to. Because she believed I had to live. For them. For all of them.

Now I'm alone in the forest.

I don't know where my father is. Where my brothers and sisters are. Are they alive? Maybe someone escaped too? Maybe someone else is running right now?

But I can't see them. I can't see anyone.

Only trees. Darkness. Branches scratching my skin.

I don't feel pain or exhaustion. Only emptiness.

And in that emptiness… something is beginning to awaken.

Anger.

It's not hot or wild. It doesn't scream for revenge just yet. It's heavy. Cold. Like a lump of metal lodged deep in my chest. Like a stone, I can't pull out.

I don't know who he is. That dragon.

I don't know why he came, why he chose us, why he destroyed everything, why he took Mama.

But I remember his roar, his strength, his eyes.

The silence that followed. The silence is so heavy it makes you want to scream.

I swear—one day I will learn who he is. And I will return.

Maybe not now. Maybe not tomorrow.

But I'll find him.

And he'll die.

I hadn't eaten in days. I wasn't counting anymore — at some point, time stopped making sense. The first day dragged on like normal, the second became murky and slow, and after that came emptiness. The forest gave me nothing — no food, no strength, not even a scent. Just dampness, rotting leaves underfoot, and a silence so heavy it rang in my ears.

Breathing grew difficult. The air felt too thick. Every step sent a dull ache through my stomach like it was trying to shrink and vanish. My mouth stayed dry no matter what. My lips were cracked, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. My head kept drooping forward, and I had to keep catching myself just to stay upright.

My clothes were hanging in shreds. They'd torn during the first hours of pushing through the brush. Now there was almost nothing left on me — only filth and blood, dried into my skin. Branches scraped my body. Sometimes, I fell and didn't even try to get up right away. I just lay there until I could force my arms to push me off the ground.

My feet were covered in cuts. Stones and roots had worn away the skin on my heels long ago. I was barefoot, and every step pulsed through my spine. At times, it felt like needles stabbing into the soles. Other times, it felt like I no longer had feet at all.

I heard nothing but my own breathing and the crunch of branches beneath me. No animals. No birds. Just the forest — dense, heavy, and always the same. Everything around me was dark, even if it might have been daytime. The light barely made it through the thick canopy above.

I had no idea where I was going. I just moved. Sometimes in a straight line, sometimes in circles. Sometimes, I turned for no reason at all. I kept walking because if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to start again.

My hands were trembling. My vision blurred. I stumbled more often now, unable to catch myself in time. My face was smeared with dirt. There was a cut on my forehead. Leaves clung to my skin. Bruises had bloomed across my body, and in some places, blood had begun to swell under the skin. I had no strength left — only momentum.

I no longer looked up. Everything in front of me blurred together. The ground, grass, branches — it all became one shapeless smear of gray and green.

Then I fell.

Not into a pit. Not onto anything. Just… forward. As if my body had finally refused to take one more step. My forehead hit the damp earth. Cold, and the smell of rot flooded my senses. My fingers twitched. The rest of me didn't respond.

I lay there for a while. No thoughts. No movement. Just shallow, uneven breathing.

And then everything disappeared.

The light, the sound, the weight of my body.

All of it sank into darkness —

not from the outside…

but from within.