《Demigods: The Farmer That Parries》


 Chapter 1: Hard Bread

    On the outskirts of the land, there lay a farm, an oasis of life amidst the tumultuous world. Its many crops decorated the rich, fertile lands. The wheat stood tall and proud, forming a golden ocean that flowed gracefully with the gentle breeze. The forest of trees, arranged in neat rows, held a myriad of vibrant flowers, so abundant that bees had made this place their permanent home, diligently collecting pollen. Nearby, a huge river flowed, its waters harnessed by a large wheel to irrigate the fields. The farm itself was a tapestry of herbs and flowers, each plant carefully cultivated. The most striking of all was the Barometz, a tall plant with a sheep on top of it that seemed eerie and ominous on its appearance. Beside it, rooted plants with human-like faces grew ominously. Known as mandrakes, these plants were dangerous; their deadly shriek could kill anyone who dared to pull them from the ground.


    Roaming the farm were creatures that seemed to be sculpted from mud and soil. These towering Mud Golems moved with a slow, deliberate grace, tending to the various plants and crops that thrived under their watchful care.


    In front of the modest farmhouse, a young man in his early twenties was practicing with a massive wooden sword. He had striking white hair and mismatched eyes, one purple and the other blue, set against his light brown skin. Sweat glistened on his brow and ran down his face as he swung the enormous weapon. This man, tall and imposing at two meters, wielded a weapon even taller than himself. His strikes were fast and precise, each swing slicing through the air with a powerful whoosh. His movements were practiced and disciplined, as if performing a sacred ritual. After completing a hundred swings, he set his wooden sword aside and knelt on the ground, looking like he was praying.


    He conducted his prayer in front of two small trees, their bases adorned with delicate flowers. Once his prayer was complete, he set his colossal wooden sword aside and picked up a farming hoe. The sun was still high in the sky, and the day¡¯s work was far from over. With a determined spirit, he began to tend to the farm, nurturing the life that grew in the rich soil of his homeland. The land known as Eliondra.


    The farm on the outskirts was a sanctuary amidst the turmoil of Eliondra. Here, amidst the vibrant fields and towering Mud Golems, a young man diligently tended to his crops with meticulous care that matched his combat discipline. As he worked, he encountered not only the usual challenges of farming but also formidable creatures that wandered into his territory.


    Giant insects, their wings buzzing like distant storms, and colossal beasts that loomed over him like mountains would occasionally stray into his fields. Armed only with a trusty farming hoe, the young man confronted them fearlessly. With a determined shout, he positioned himself between his crops and the intruders, his presence and unwavering resolve enough to intimidate even the largest of creatures.


    Rather than chasing them away aggressively, he understood the balance of nature around his farm. His howls and confident stance were enough to make the insects buzz away and the beasts retreat, respecting the boundaries he had set. For him, this wasn''t a time for hunting or causing harm; it was a time to nurture his crops and ensure their growth flourished in the fertile soil.


    After harvesting and tending to his crops, the young man would take a well-deserved rest by meditating in front of the two trees. The quiet serenity of the farm offered him a peaceful refuge amidst the chaos of the world beyond. With a sense of calm, he would then pick up his massive wooden sword once more, its heavy weight was familiar in his hands as he began his daily practice. Each swing of the sword was a fluid motion, honed through years of discipline and dedication.


    This routine, a seamless blend of hard work and martial training, defined his life. From dawn till dusk, he nurtured the land and honed his skills, finding solace and purpose in the rhythm of farm life. As the sun set and painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, he would retreat to his small farm hut. There, in the warmth of a crackling fire, he would cook his evening meal, savoring the fruits of his labor and reflecting on the day''s accomplishments.


    In the quiet moments before sleep claimed him, he would gaze out at the starlit sky, hoping that the next day would be as brilliant and fulfilling as the one that had just passed.


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    The next day, Pacificus loaded his cart with the fruits of his labor, each bundle carefully arranged. Without any animals to assist him, he pulled the heavy cart himself, making his way towards the decrepit town. Its walls, once formidable, now crumbled, and its streets strewn with debris from the shattered houses of its former inhabitants.


    As he entered the town, Pacificus navigated through the remnants of what was once a bustling community, now occupied mostly by soldiers. Some were clad in sturdy plate armor, while others wore simpler gambesons and wielded spears, lacking even helmets for protection.


    A knight, adorned in elaborate armor and a magnificent coat, always greeted Pacificus upon his arrival. Despite the knight''s regal appearance, Pacificus towered over him, forcing the knight to look up when addressing him.


    "U-um... delivery for the Lord, sir Knight," Pacificus stuttered nervously, his voice barely above a whisper amidst the ruins.


    "Ahh, yes, Pacificus, if I remember correctly," the armored man replied warmly. "Your deliveries are always appreciated." With a gesture, the knight handed Pacificus a small bag of coins.


    Pacificus nervously accepted the bag, his hands shaking slightly as he examined the copper coins inside. He began counting them quickly, his eyes avoiding direct contact with the knight or any of the soldiers nearby. Once done, he hastily stowed the coins in his bag, avoiding further conversation as much as possible.


    "Say, young man," the armored knight continued, noticing Pacificus''s unease. "Why don''t you reconsider our offer? Farming doesn''t pay well, and you seem to be a strong man. The Lord could always use new men to defend this land... What do you say, Pacificus?"


    "I... I don''t like violence," Pacificus replied softly, his voice barely audible. "I don''t like killing. I... I don''t want to kill things that I can''t eat."


    His words were hesitant, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to voice his convictions. With a small nod of acknowledgment, he turned away, eager to retreat from the intimidating presence of the armored men and return to the quiet solitude of his farm.


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    "Ahh, that is a shame, big guy," the knight said with a kind smile, his tone understanding. "But there''s no shame in disliking or being afraid of violence, okay? I mean, I too would be afraid if I stepped onto the battlefield. No soldier is immune... But you see, Pacificus, if you don''t fight, then people would trample over you. They would take advantage of your weakness... The world isn''t really cruel, Pacificus, but people are. So we need to fight this cruelty. That''s why we knights exist."


    "I can''t fight though. And I don''t want to fight. That''s why I choose farming¡ªOH WAIT! Please wait... Not those, please. Those last two sacks are for someone else," Pacificus interjected nervously, trying to redirect the knights'' attention.


    The two knights carrying the sacks glanced at Pacificus, their expressions apologetic.


    "Sorry about that, big guy."


    "Yeah, that''s our bad. What kind of crops do you sell anyway? These things are really heavy," one of the soldiers remarked, looking puzzled.


    The armored soldiers then left the two huge sacks alone on the cart, their attention diverted to carrying the eighteen other sacks into the castle keep.


    "What''s with these things? Why are crops this heavy?" one soldier grunted as they hoisted a sack.


    "Shut up and move! And don''t you dare let your arms slip like last time!" the other soldier barked, struggling under the weight of his burden.


    Indeed, the sacks were unusually heavy, requiring two well-trained soldiers to carry each one. As Pacificus watched them laboriously transport his crops, he couldn''t help but feel a pang of worry about the fate of those last two sacks meant for someone else. Yet, he remained silent.


    In the shadow of the crumbling town walls, Pacificus passed by a line of disheveled men and women, young and old, standing in a long queue. Their worn clothes and thin frames spoke of hardship, their eyes filled with weariness and despair. Across from them, a small group of young men and women distributed bread and soup to the needy, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the bleak surroundings.


    Ignoring the line, Pacificus made his way to a building that had weathered the ravages of time. Balancing two enormous sacks on his broad shoulders, he gently knocked on the door of the basement.


    "Merina, it''s me," Pacificus called softly, his voice tinged with shyness.


    The door creaked open, revealing a woman with short black hair and piercing blue eyes. Dressed in tattered garments that hinted at former elegance, she greeted Pacificus with a gentle smile. "Oh, Pacificus. Please come inside. Have you eaten yet?"


    "N-no need. W-where should I put these?" Pacificus stammered, nodding towards the sacks.


    "Just over here, near the oven," Merina replied, indicating a stack of stones with glowing coals underneath.


    As Pacificus entered the humble abode, he was greeted by children engaged in various chores¡ªcleaning the floor, preparing breakfast, and even sewing old clothes. One child was crafting arrowheads from discarded nails with a focused determination.


    "You don''t have to do this, you know," Merina said softly, her gratitude evident. "But you always do. Thank you, Pacificus... You''ve made our lives easier."


    Pacificus simply nodded in response, his expression humble and shy. With a brief farewell, he left the warmth of the basement and returned to the world outside.


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    Back at his farm, Pacificus meticulously checked his crops once more, ensuring they were well-tended and thriving under the moonlit sky. The rhythmic rustling of leaves and the gentle chirping of crickets accompanied his solitary vigil. Satisfied with his inspection, he set aside his farming tools and retrieved a different sword¡ªthis one was no practice weapon.


    At his side rested a formidable greatsword, its sheer size and weight a testament to its purpose. The blade was wide and towering, its edge honed to a razor-sharp gleam. The handle, long and sturdy, featured a simple crossguard and pommel, devoid of any embellishments. This sword was a tool of protection, a stark contrast to the wooden sword he used for training.


    As Pacificus stood amidst the tranquility of his farm, his gaze was drawn to the distant horizon where a faint glow of orange flickered against the night sky. He knew all too well what it meant¡ªthe unmistakable sight of a town engulfed in flames. Though it wasn''t the town he had visited earlier, the sight weighed heavily on his heart, filling him with a mix of sadness and determination.


    Taking a deep breath, Pacificus stared at the distant devastation. The flames danced ominously, casting eerie shadows and illuminating the darkened landscape. In that moment, the quiet resolve in his eyes spoke of a readiness to defend, not just his farm, but the fragile peace he cherished amidst a world ravaged by conflict.


    With his hand resting on the hilt of his greatsword, Pacificus remained vigilant through the night, his senses attuned to the distant turmoil that threatened to disrupt the calm of his sanctuary.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


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    A few hours later, Pacificus sensed an unusual agitation among his golems. These towering creatures, usually slow-moving guardians of his farm, now rumbled with unease under the moonlit sky. Their stone forms shifted restlessly as if anticipating danger.


    "D-Danger," Pacificus''s voice trembled as he surveyed the approaching soldiers. His heart raced with apprehension, but he stood firm, his massive greatsword gripped tightly in his hands.


    "G... Greetings," Pacificus managed to stammer out, his voice barely above a whisper. "W-What could I do for you?"


    "Give us all of your crops, farmer," demanded the leader, his voice cold and authoritative.


    Pacificus swallowed nervously, his gaze flickering between the armored men and his beloved farm. "I-I could give you some crops for a price, sir," he replied hesitantly. "B-But I won''t give up my crops for free."


    The man in armor scoffed and dismounted from his horse, striding towards Pacificus with a menacing glint in his eyes and a halberd gripped tightly in his gauntleted hand. "Do you want me to take them from your dead body?"


    "N-No, sir, I-I would not," Pacificus stammered, his voice shaking with fear. "B-But I won''t give my crops for free, sir. Y-You have to pay. If you don''t... then I''m afraid you''ll have to face my sword."


    With a shaky hand, Pacificus raised his greatsword into a high stance, his towering frame casting a trembling shadow in the moonlight. His eyes darted nervously between the armored man and his intimidating companions, who looked on with a mixture of amusement and contempt.


    The armored man chuckled darkly. "Don''t underestimate me, boy. Your stature says farmer, while mine says warrior. Do you truly wish to test your mettle against me?"


    "N-No, sir," Pacificus replied timidly, his voice barely audible. "I-I dislike violence, and I don''t want to get hurt. B-But my family has tended this land for generations, and I... I will protect it for them, even if... even if it costs me my life."


    "Then so be it," the armored man sneered, his tone turning cold and resolute. With a swift and calculated motion, he swung his halberd towards Pacificus, aiming to swiftly incapacitate the timid farmer and claim the crops he sought.


    As tension thickened in the moonlit night, the warrior believed it was the end of the confrontation, assured his halberd would settle matters swiftly. Yet, reality veered sharply from his expectations. His blow, intended as decisive, met unexpected resistance¡ªPacificus''s greatsword intercepted with such force that the halberd was sent spiraling from his grasp.


    Surprise flashed across the warrior''s face as he stumbled backward, his chest meeting the full brunt of Pacificus''s retaliatory strike. The impact launched him airborne, a disorienting blur of motion before he collided heavily with a nearby tree. For a suspended moment, he felt as if his essence lagged behind, then abruptly snapped back into agonizing awareness upon impact. Pain, visceral and consuming, radiated from his battered ribs, restrained only by the protective shell of his armor.


    Gasping for breath, he struggled to comprehend the turn of events as his comrades gazed upon the towering figure before them, wielding a colossal greatsword with imposing intent.


    "You have a choice," Pacificus''s voice rang out, steady yet laden with gravity. "Leave me or fight me. If you choose to fight, your bodies will nourish my fields, and your armor and weapons will be repurposed as farm tools. But if you choose to leave, I swear on my parents and the watching Gods¡ªI will not harm you, and we can negotiate a fair transaction."


    With his greatsword raised once more into a formidable stance, the soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, recognizing the sincerity in Pacificus''s words. The threat was no longer an idle one; it was a stark ultimatum hanging heavily in the night air.


    After the soldiers exchanged uncertain glances and nodded to their fallen comrade, a sense of relief washed over Pacificus as he watched them carefully carry the injured man back to their horses. Despite his own heart pounding with adrenaline, Pacificus''s gaze remained fixed on the retreating figures until they vanished into the night, leaving behind an eerie silence broken only by the crackling of distant flames.


    With a sigh of relief, Pacificus approached the spot where the battle had almost erupted moments before. His hand reached down to retrieve the halberd that lay abandoned on the ground, its metal cold and unfamiliar in his grasp. Carrying it with careful reverence, he made his way to a nearby shed, its contents illuminated faintly by the glow of fireflies dancing around the entrance.


    Inside, the shed was unlike his usual storage of harvested crops. Instead, rows of weapons and armor were neatly arranged, catching the dim light that filtered through cracks in the wooden walls. Swords gleamed dully, spears stood upright in their racks, and helmets and shields rested silently against the rough-hewn beams.


    Pacificus gently placed the halberd among its kind on a shelf, the metal clinking softly against the others. His thoughts drifted momentarily to the burning town on the horizon, a reminder of the harsh realities beyond his peaceful farm. His brow furrowed with concern, but his resolve remained steadfast.


    "I hope the next encounter is as reasonable as these men," Pacificus muttered to himself, a mixture of weariness and determination in his voice. He leaned against the shed''s doorway, casting a weary glance at the night sky where stars twinkled faintly above the distant glow of destruction.


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    As dawn broke, Pacificus found solace in the routine of his day, seeking comfort in familiar tasks. The morning sun painted the fields with a golden hue as he practiced his sword swings with measured determination. Each movement was deliberate, a testament to his commitment to readiness, despite his reluctance for conflict.


    After his training, Pacificus retreated to a quiet corner of his farm, where a makeshift altar awaited him. He knelt in prayer, seeking guidance and peace amid the uncertainty that hung heavy in the air. His meditation followed, a tranquil interlude where he sought to center himself amidst the looming threat of siege.


    Throughout the day, Pacificus tended to his crops with care, his hands moving deftly over the earth. Yet beneath his calm exterior, a nagging worry persisted. The possibility of his farm becoming a target weighed on his mind. He knew all too well the realities of sieges¡ªlong, drawn-out affairs that often left villages vulnerable to plunder and hardship.


    As the sun began its descent, fatigue began to tug at Pacificus. He knew he needed rest, yet the fear for his farm''s security gnawed at him. Nights during a siege were fraught with uncertainty, every sound amplified into a potential threat. Sleep had been elusive the previous night, and tonight, he felt the weight of exhaustion settling upon him.


    With a heavy heart, Pacificus resolved to sleep early¡ªor late, by the time he finally surrendered to rest. He fortified his dwelling as best he could, securing doors and windows with a quiet determination. Every measure taken was a silent prayer for protection, a defense against the unpredictability of the world outside his farm.


    As he finally lay down, eyes heavy with weariness, Pacificus sought refuge in the hope that his preparations would be enough. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, he sought solace in the embrace of sleep, knowing that vigilance and resilience were his allies in the face of uncertain times.


    In his dreams that night, Pacificus found himself transported back to his childhood, reliving moments with his father amidst the tranquil landscape of their farm.


    He stood by his father''s side, a young boy eager to learn the ways of the land. The memory unfolded like a gentle breeze through the fields, where his father''s words carried the wisdom of generations.


    "Remember, son," his father''s voice echoed with warmth and patience. "We should only kill if we want to eat. Beasts and monsters do not kill for pleasure; they kill for food and survival. Waste nothing, son. Need arrows? Use the bones. Need clothes? Watch how I turn this hide into a coat. Want to eat well? We have meat."


    Wide-eyed and curious, Pacificus listened intently, absorbing each lesson like seeds planted in fertile soil. "But, Papa," he asked, his youthful voice tinged with innocence, "can''t we just hunt more if we want more meat?"


    "We can, son," his father replied gently, "but hunting too much would make these beasts disappear. Take only what you need and no more. The balance of life must always be preserved."


    Another memory flickered into his dream, seamlessly blending with the first like the colors of sunset merging into night.


    "But, Papa," a younger Pacificus questioned again, "can''t we just hunt all these rats if they ruin our plants every time?"


    His father knelt beside him, hands stained with earth and wisdom etched in the lines of his weathered face. "Oh, son," he sighed, "we could do that. But these rats have a purpose too. They clean up carcasses that would otherwise rot and spread disease. Ugly as they may seem, every creature has its place in the grand scheme of life. Just like us."


    His mother, tall and commanding with a sword slung over her shoulder, approached with skewers in hand, offering them with a tender smile to her husband and child.


    "Mama, why do you always carry your sword?" Pacificus asked, his voice curious yet tinged with a hint of apprehension.


    His mother''s smile softened. "Because I am a swordsman, Pacy," she explained gently. "Do you know what they used to call us?"


    "I don''t know. I don''t like fighting," Pacificus admitted, casting a glance at the sword with mixed feelings.


    His parents chuckled warmly, exchanging a glance filled with love and pride. "They used to call us the Sword Maidens," his mother explained, her voice carrying fond nostalgia. "We were mercenaries and adventurers."


    "But Mama," Pacificus interjected, his tone serious, "I saw you once... chop a man in half."


    His mother''s expression turned to panic, her eyes widening. "No, no, Pacy, you weren''t supposed to see that," she murmured, visibly distressed.


    "I hate it when you have to do that," Pacificus confessed softly, his heart heavy with the memory.


    His mother sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging. "I know, Pacy. I don''t like it either," she admitted, her voice gentle yet tinged with sorrow. "But sometimes, we must defend ourselves. In this world, the strong often take advantage of the weak. Only the strong can afford to show kindness."


    She pulled Pacificus into a warm embrace, holding him close. "Oh, Pacy," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I''m sorry that you were born into a world like this. But remember, violence isn''t true strength. It never was. True strength lies in having the courage to do the right thing, even when faced with injustice."


    She turned to her husband with a soft smile, her eyes shining with affection. "That, my dear," she said softly, "is strength. Perhaps the greatest strength of all."


    Pacificus found himself in the warm glow of a makeshift oven, crafted from stacked stones and fueled by glowing embers. His father stood beside him, demonstrating how to prepare hardtack, tapping two pieces together to make a distinctive tacking sound.


    "Here, Pacy," his father said with a smile, offering him a piece of the hard bread.


    Pacificus took a hesitant bite. "It''s too hard, papa," he complained, his brow furrowing in dissatisfaction.


    His father chuckled warmly. "That''s because you need to soften it with milk or soup first."


    "But why don''t we have soft bread?" Pacificus asked, his curiosity piqued.


    "Soft bread doesn''t keep as well as hardtack," his father explained patiently. "You must eat it all before it spoils, or it will go to waste."


    "I won''t be wasteful, papa," Pacificus promised earnestly, a sense of responsibility in his voice.


    "Good lad," his father praised, ruffling his hair affectionately. "That''s my boy."


    In the haze of his dreams, Pacificus found himself holding a wooden sword, facing off against a towering figure who was both formidable and familiar¡ªhis mother. She wielded a wooden sword of her own, almost as large as Pacificus himself, with her greatsword resting comfortably on her back.


    His mother swung at him with surprising speed and force. Pacificus tried to block the blow with his wooden sword, but it was knocked from his grasp. His mother''s sword halted just short of him, her concern evident even in practice.


    "Pacy," she said gently, her voice filled with maternal concern. "Remember, don''t meet force with force. Use its momentum against your opponent. Let it flow, son."


    "I know, mama," Pacificus replied softly, his gaze downcast. "But I really don''t like fighting."


    His mother smiled tenderly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "I know," she said softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "But sooner or later, you''ll need to defend yourself. Your father and I won''t be here forever. I want you to live, my son."


    As Pacificus held his mother in a tight embrace, he felt a deep pang of sadness. The warmth of their bond enveloped him, yet he could feel the weight of mortality lingering. Slowly, her face transformed into a skull, but Pacificus simply hugged his mother not wanting to let go. His embrace has reached the sword behind her.


    His eyes close and when he opens it. She was gone. On his hand was a greatsword, the same sword that his mother had in her back, The morning light filtering through the cracks of his farmhouse confirmed the passage of time. He rose from his bed, the weight of his mother''s lessons and the greatsword at his hip grounding him in purpose. Outside, he settled down to a simple breakfast of boiled vegetables, his eyes watchful and vigilant over his farm.


    While he was eating his vegetables he realizes something... he was out of bread.


    In the tranquil morning light that bathed his farmhouse, Pacificus stood in his modest kitchen, preparing to make hard bread, a staple taught to him by his father. His hands, calloused from years of toil in the fields, deftly measured out flour, salt, and a touch of sugar, recalling the lessons imparted to him with each precise movement. The memories of his father''s patient guidance echoed in his mind as he mixed the ingredients into a stiff dough, feeling the texture transform under his fingers.


    Kneading the dough on a floured surface, Pacificus lost himself in the rhythmic motion, a ritual that connected him to generations of farmers before him. With each fold and turn, he could almost hear his father''s voice, encouraging him to exert just enough pressure to achieve the perfect consistency.


    After rolling the dough out and cutting it into uniform squares, Pacificus carefully pierced each piece with a fork, a step that his father had emphasized to ensure even baking. Placing the pieces on a greased baking sheet, he watched through the oven as the hard bread transformed, the kitchen filling with a comforting aroma of baking dough.


    As he removed the golden-brown pieces from the oven and let them cool on a rack, Pacificus felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Each piece of hard bread represented not only sustenance but also a connection to his family''s legacy and the resilience needed to thrive in a world shaped by the rhythms of nature and the wisdom passed down through generations. He stored the hard bread in a sturdy wooden box, ready to sustain him through the days ahead.

 Chapter 2: Underground Wine

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    He began with his golems, ancient sentinels of earth and stone. With a gentle command, one golem lay on its belly, revealing a lush harvest of carrots and potatoes on its broad back. The sight filled Pacificus with pride.


    "They seem to be growing well," he remarked, a smile touching his lips. He had seven golems, all inherited from his father, who had often spoken of their origins with reverence.


    He moved toward the river next. The moment his feet touched the water''s edge, the tranquility shattered. A massive creature surged from the depths, its rows of razor-sharp teeth gleaming in the light. Its whiskers, longer than its body, trailed menacingly as it lunged at him. The creature''s body, four meters long and a meter wide, cast a formidable shadow.


    But Pacificus did not flinch. Without a moment''s hesitation, his hand moved with practiced precision. He swatted the creature''s giant mouth, redirecting its force away from him. The sheer speed of his movement created a sonic boom that echoed through the surroundings, rustling the plants and sending ripples through the water at his feet.


    It was the skill his mother had bestowed upon him, the only combat skill he had ever seen worth mastering. Daily practice with his sword translated into this simple yet powerful parry. As the creature recoiled, Pacificus stood tall, his heart pounding. This was his domain, his sanctuary, and he would defend it with every ounce of strength he possessed.


    The humongous creature landed on the ground, flailing desperately like a fish out of water. Well, technically, it was a fish out of water¡ªa massive one at that.


    "Oh no," Pacificus muttered, his eyes widening in concern. "It''s not fishing season yet." He rushed to the giant fish, grabbing its jaws with his strong hands and heaving it back into the river.


    Perhaps this giant fish would warn its kin next time. Perhaps it would caution other monsters against attacking the enormous human who lived near the river with his sprawling farm. But one thing was certain: this fish would never forget the experience. Then again, it was a fish, and who could truly know what a fish remembered?


    With the immediate crisis averted, Pacificus returned to his duties. The river was dotted with rafts, tied together in such a way that they resembled floating islands. These interconnected rafts almost covered the river, sometimes creating a natural bridge to the other side.


    Pacificus knew these rafts well; they were his father''s legacy, a unique farming technique passed down through generations. With a practiced hand, he pulled a series of ropes connected to the rafts, making the islands shift and move.


    To the untrained eye, it might appear that the giant human was pulling an island. But these rafts were not true islands. Each bush-like plant on the rafts grew in pots that didn''t contain soil but river water. This innovative hydroponic system nurtured his precious crops: lettuces, spinaches, chives, radishes, tomatoes, mints, and herbs so potent that they could make an apothecary blush with excitement. There were also beans of various colors and sizes, but his favorites were the sprouting plants that resembled grass to the untrained eye. These were not mere grass; these were rice plants, specifically brown rice.


    After inspecting and harvesting his crops he went to the nearest building to the river. The waterwheel. His father said it was made by his grandfather. He looks at the waterwheel that rarely stops at putting water atop of open pipes that went down towards his crops. That''s not all, the water also went to a series of barrels, each one filled with different materials. The water of the river reminds him of tea, due to its color but once it passes the series of barrels the water that finally came out is crystal clear.


    This is thanks to the series of barrels. Each barrel containing different materials; One contains herbs. the other just rocks, the other one soil. the other sand, the next charcoal, the next is gravel and the last one containing different herbs. The water passes on each barrel creating a filtration system that gives Pacificus access to clean drinking water.


    But of course such a system needs maintenance. A duty that he proudly maintains, for he may not met his grandfather he can''t deny that his grandfather was an innovative man for this contraption was one of his legacies.


    Observing the young man was a pair of deities. One, clad in light, had vines sprouting from her messy, chaotic yet organized hair. Her golden eyes brimmed with vigor, and her beauty was an uncanny blend of allure and terror. She watched Pacificus with a gentle smile, her presence radiating life and energy. Beside her stood a figure in dark robes, his eyes like two black holes, exuding an aura that seemed to swallow everything in its path.


    "Thanatos, my dear," said the feminine figure clad in light and vines, her voice vibrant and life-giving. If a mortal were to hear it, their lifespan might even increase. "We never had children, yet it feels as if I am watching our own child."


    The dark figure chuckled, a sound so chilling that it could cause a mortal to perish instantly. "Yes, my dearest Gaia," his voice whispered, emanating from all directions at once. "He is our champion. Remember when the farmer and his swordswoman wife came to your temple?"


    "Ah, my consort," Gaia replied, her tone filled with nostalgia. "Those days have passed like a blink of an eye."


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    There was once a farmer and his wife who braved the wilderness, passing through untamed beasts and great nightmares. They ventured into the Ever Resting Forest, named after the countless adventurers who entered but never returned. The forest''s reputation was well-earned, inhabited by beasts so vile that even demons and dragons feared its depths. Yet, the pair fearlessly journeyed into this dreaded forest with a single destination in mind: the temple of the forgotten God.


    The temple was a colossal tree, its dark roots forming a cavernous entrance. The woman held a torch in one hand and a humongous sword in the other, while the man cradled something far more precious than his own life¡ªtheir baby. The infant was frail, little more than a skeleton, clearly on the brink of death. Yet, the couple had braved this deadly forest, known for its ability to kill dragons, driven by a singular, desperate reason.


    Before the deity of life, the couple fell to their knees, the roots and soil beneath them cold and unyielding. "Please save our child," they pleaded, their voices trembling with a mixture of hope and despair. "He is our only treasure. So please, save him."


    In front of the couple is Gaia, the deity of life herself, her presence both awe-inspiring and humbling. Her hair, a twisting mass of vines adorned with thorns, leaves, and vibrant flowers, framed a face that held both the beauty of nature''s bounty and the fierceness of its challenges. Her golden eyes, filled with the wisdom of eons, observed the farmer and his wife with a mix of surprise and compassion. Gaia''s body was an embodiment of nature''s resilience, made entirely of wood with an ember flickering at her chest, a symbol of the life force she embodied¡ªchaotic yet harmoniously organized.


    Behind Gaia stood Thanatos, the primordial deity of death, an unseen presence that lingered like a shadow. His form was veiled, hidden from mortal eyes, for even a glimpse of his true nature could extinguish life itself. Silent and contemplative, Thanatos observed the mortals who dared to venture into the heart of the Ever Resting Forest, his realm intertwined with Gaia''s in an eternal dance of life and death.


    Gaia, though outwardly composed, felt a stirring within her ancient heart. The forest surrounding them was a creation born of love between her and Thanatos, a sanctuary where they could share their fleeting moments together before fading into the annals of time. It was a place of beauty and peril, designed to preserve the balance between life and death in the natural order.


    The couple before her had defied all expectations by reaching the temple, a feat few mortals dared to attempt. Gaia and Thanatos''s gaze softened as they look at the infant, fragile and near death, cradled in the arms of his parents.


    "Ahh" the two deities talk to themselves


    "Parents" Thanatos whispers to Gaia "Real ones. Nothing is more admirable than them my love."


    Gaia smiles. "Indeed" she replies to her lover "The fact that they have defied our expectations is proof of that. Or perhaps dear... we are simply getting old."


    The pair chuckled at each other. The two deities look at the child on the couple''s arms.


    "Rise up and don''t bow to a forgotten God, Son of Elion and Daughter of Idra. The two of you have come for my gifts and my blessings. You have defied expectations set up by Gods, that is more than enough for us to know that you are worthy of such gifts."


    "Please don''t give it to me" says the father "Give it our son. Give your blessings and your gifts to my son."


    "Please... we are begging you. I would do anything to receive your gifts for our boy" says the mother


    "We would do everything" the father pleads.


    "Oh my, two gifts for one child." she chuckles, her laugh gentle yet unkind, respectful yet mocking "A parents love knows no bounds... All right then, the child shall have it."


    The couple looks at the deity their eyes full of hope.


    "But keep in mind... to keep the balance of the world, our gifts came with a price... a flaw if you will." she continues "I am a deity of life... death will always be behind me" Her voice now without contradiction says it so lovingly "If I bestow the gift of life, death too shall bestow his."


    The couple looked horrified.


    The deity lovingly giggles "The true gods gifted humanity with mortality. Yes death is a gift not a curse. And when death gives a gift it is not a curse." her eyes then looked at the couple her contradicting nature then shows itself again "To keep the balance of this world the gifts we gave to the mortals must contain a flaw. I Gaia the deity of life gives my gift to this child. He will grow strong, his potential will be the highest among his peers but in exchange he will grow slowly."


    Thus Pacificus received the Gift of Potential: His talents will increased by more than tenfold however the gifts of experience he will receive are minimal, almost non existent.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Then it was Thanatos''s turn. Unlike his lover he is not full of contradiction. He is straightforward and equal. For Thanatos sees all living things equally; whether it be evil or lawful, rich or poor, guilty or innocent, victim or perpetrator, all is equal in his eyes. He didn''t show himself nor did he even show his shadow. But pacificus''s parents felt a fear for their mortal lives when the deity of death himself gives their child a gift.


    "You will be loved by destiny" he whispers to the baby''s soul "But in exchange you will also be despised by it."


    Thus Pacificus received another gift. The gift of Fate. He will be the most lucky yet unlucky person alive in this world. The strings of fate were attached to his name.


    "As the blessed child of Gaia and Thanatos" Gaia continues her voice is like that of a man and woman, evil and good, guilty and innocent "We bestow upon you a name. Live and Die as a mortal, blessed child Azrael."


    And that is how Pacificus received the blessings of two deities.


    It was a solemn ritual, rooted in reverence and gratitude. Pacificus, now bearing the weight of his parents'' teachings and the divine gifts bestowed upon him, lived a life intertwined with nature and solemnity. With every passing season, he tended to his farm with meticulous care, honoring the balance of life and death that Gaia and Thanatos had impressed upon him.


    When the inevitable befell his father, Pacificus and his mother solemnly buried him in the earth he had tended so lovingly. There was no coffin, only the embrace of the soil that nourished their crops. Tears mingled with the soil as they bid farewell to a beloved patriarch, planting a tree as his gravestone¡ªan enduring testament to his life and legacy.


    Years later, when war claimed his mother, Pacificus faced the anguish with a heart both broken and resolute. Following the tradition set by his father''s passing, he laid her to rest beside her beloved, under the shade of another tree. With each planting, he honored their memory, knowing that their spirits now rested peacefully beneath the blossoming field of flowers that adorned their graves.


    In this sacred place, amidst the blossoms and the rustling leaves, Pacificus found solace in his prayers to Gaia and Thanatos. Their gifts had shaped his life, guiding him with a profound understanding of life''s cycles and the interconnectedness of all things. He prayed not only for his parents but also for the world they had cherished¡ªa world where balance and respect for nature reigned supreme.


    As he stood among the flowers, his heart heavy with loss yet uplifted by faith, Pacificus knew that in honoring his parents'' memory, he honored the ancient pact with the gods who had watched over him since birth. And in their silent embrace, amidst the fragrant blooms and whispering leaves, he found a measure of peace, knowing that their spirits lived on in the eternal dance of life and death.


    Each morning, as the first rays of dawn kissed the horizon, he would stand at the edge of his farm, sword in hand, and begin his solitary training. For fifteen years, he focused solely on perfecting one move, honing it through countless repetitions against the untamed creatures of the Ever Resting Forest.


    In the depths of the forest, amidst the shadows and haunting cries of beasts, Pacificus engaged in a dance of parries. His blade met claw and fang with precision, deflecting strikes without ever striking back. He viewed these creatures not as adversaries, but as companions in his quest for mastery. After each encounter, he returned to his farm, where he continued to refine his swordplay under the open sky, surrounded by rows of thriving crops.


    To fortify his body and spirit, he followed a regimen of consuming small amounts of poisonous herbs and mushrooms¡ªa practice steeped in the lore of assassins. Day by day, he built resistance, drawing strength from the toxins that would have felled lesser men. This disciplined approach mirrored his dedication to his craft and to the natural world that sustained him.


    However, tragedy struck when a fatal blow inadvertently ended the life of a Dreaded Saurian during one of his practice sessions. Pacificus mourned the loss deeply, recognizing the sanctity of life even in the midst of his training. In reverence to the fallen beast, he vowed to cease his exercises in the forest, focusing his efforts solely on his farm.


    Undeterred by the perplexity of the deities who observed his unconventional path, Pacificus continued to push the boundaries of his training. On the fertile soil of his farm, he wielded his oversized wooden sword with grace and purpose, mastering techniques that defied conventional martial norms. His determination led him to discover the impossible¡ªparrying the very ground beneath him, a feat that defied the laws of the world and left even the deities bewildered.


    Pacificus''s relentless dedication to his training bore fruit beyond mortal comprehension. Despite the slow growth imposed by the Gift of Potential, his consistent efforts sculpted him into a figure of unparalleled strength and agility among mortals. His muscles swelled with power, honed not through brute force but through the finesse of his parrying techniques.


    The Gift of Fate, however, ensured that Pacificus''s journey was fraught with challenges. Time and again, he faced adversaries whose might surpassed his own, pushing him to the very limits of his skill. Each encounter tested not only his physical prowess but also his resolve and ingenuity.


    As he continued to refine his art of deflection, Pacificus unwittingly tapped into a profound force¡ªthe mastery of Inertia itself. His ability to manipulate momentum and redirect force became a marvel that even the gods observed with admiration and envy. Such mastery defied the natural laws governing combat, elevating him to a status that mortals could scarcely comprehend.


    Yet, in their wisdom, the true gods bestowed upon Pacificus a flaw, a balance to his extraordinary power. Despite his prowess in parrying and his mastery over Inertia, he was barred from learning any other combat skills. He could not initiate an attack unless provoked¡ªan ironic limitation for one whose pacifism was central to his being.


    To the deities who watched over him, Pacificus embodied the complexity of mortal aspirations and divine intervention. His journey, marked by discipline and humility, resonated with the eternal struggle for balance in the cosmos. His newfound abilities were both a testament to his tenacity and a reminder of the inherent limitations placed upon mortals by the divine order.


    Thus, Pacificus stood as a singular figure in the annals of mortal history¡ªa farmer who wielded the power to deflect fate itself, bound by the constraints of his own pacifistic principles and the blessings-turned-flaws bestowed upon him by the gods. His existence was a testament to the intricate dance of strength and restraint, a narrative woven into the fabric of creation itself.


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    Pacificus''s morning routine was a familiar dance of reverence and responsibility. As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the canopy above, he concluded his prayers, a ritual steeped in gratitude and humility towards the deities who had blessed his life. With a calm demeanor born of years spent attuned to the rhythms of his farm, he turned his attention to the day''s tasks.


    Stepping into the cool confines of his underground chamber, Pacificus was enveloped by a world that echoed with the whispers of his ancestors. The labyrinthine structure, a testament to their ingenuity and foresight, sprawled beneath his modest home, its vastness unfathomable to those unfamiliar with its depths. Descending deeper into the earth, he navigated tunnels and corridors that wound like serpents, a silent testament to a time when conflict between gods had driven his forebears to seek refuge below ground.


    The chamber, larger than his entire surface dwelling, housed not only his provisions but also a labyrinthine network of rooms and passages that hinted at a hidden city. Glowing mushrooms and bioluminescent plants bathed the labyrinth in a soft, ethereal light, casting shadows that danced upon walls adorned with gemstones that reflected and refracted the gentle illumination. It was a mesmerizing sight¡ªa subterranean world where nature and ancient craftsmanship coalesced into a harmonious tableau.


    Among the storerooms and alcoves, Pacificus meticulously inspected his stockpile of food, relieved to find no trace of mold or decay. He checked the mushroom farm, separated from the main storage by a makeshift barrier, its fungal bounty thriving in the underground humidity. The careful partitioning of spaces revealed the labyrinth''s true expanse¡ªa place where an entire community could have thrived, shielded from the tumult of the world above.


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    Pacificus marveled at the ingenuity of his ancestors as he navigated the depths of the underground labyrinth. The air was cool and damp, carrying echoes of a time long past when the world above was fraught with strife. He pondered how his great-great-great grandparents had conceived and constructed such a marvel, their motivations lost to time but their legacy enduring in the subterranean expanse.


    For Pacificus, the underground chamber served a practical purpose, albeit one shrouded in mystery and family lore. It was primarily a storage facility, housing essential provisions like pemmican and hardtacks, sustenance that could withstand the test of time. These stalwart rations were crucial for his sustenance and survival, a testament to the foresight of those who had built the labyrinth as a refuge against uncertainty and conflict.


    The chamber also safeguarded his homemade alcohol, brewed with care from ingredients cultivated on his farm above. Its presence below ground ensured a steady supply of spirits, a luxury amidst the solitude of the forest and the demands of farm life. Alongside these provisions, the mushrooms and herbs harvested from nearby chambers offered convenience, their proximity to the surface making them accessible for daily use.


    Despite its practicality, Pacificus recognized that the underground marvel held deeper mysteries beyond its role as a storeroom. His parents had been skeptical of its origins, his mother dismissing tales of dwarven craftsmanship attributed to their ancestors, for his father bore no resemblance to the stout folk of legend.


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    After checking the underground marvel, Pacificus returned to the surface with a sense of contentment. However, his satisfaction quickly turned to horror as he inspected the trees bearing fruit. The fruits, not yet ripe, had begun to rot. Panic surged through him¡ªhe couldn¡¯t afford to be wasteful. Determination set in, and he sprang into action.


    Pacificus moved with urgency, plucking every rotting fruit from the branches. His hands worked quickly and efficiently, sorting through the spoiled parts and saving whatever he could. Despite the frustration of seeing his hard work tainted, his resolve remained unshaken. If the fruits couldn¡¯t be salvaged as they were, he would ensure they found new purpose.


    He meticulously cut away the rotting sections, leaving only the good parts. The idea of making wine came to him like a beacon of hope. The fruits, though not suitable for sale or fresh consumption, could still be transformed into something valuable. Pacificus gathered the salvaged pieces and brought them to his makeshift processing area.


    He started by thoroughly washing the salvaged fruit pieces, removing any lingering dirt or insects. Once clean, he placed the fruits into a large wooden tub, where he began the labor-intensive process of crushing them. He used a sturdy wooden pestle, pressing down and twisting to break the fruits apart and release their juices. The air filled with the sweet and tangy aroma of mixed fruits, a scent that hinted at the promise of the wine to come.


    With the juices extracted, Pacificus carefully strained the mixture through a cloth, separating the liquid from the pulp. He poured the strained juice into a large fermenting barrel, ensuring it was clean and free of any contaminants that could spoil the fermentation process.


    Next, he reached for a large jar of honey, a precious sweetener for his wine. The golden liquid poured slowly, mixing with the fruit juices, adding a rich sweetness that would enhance the final product. He stirred the honey into the juice, making sure it dissolved completely and was evenly distributed.


    With the juice and honey mixture ready, he added a small amount of yeast, which would kickstart the fermentation process. He covered the barrel with a cloth to allow the mixture to breathe while keeping out any unwanted particles or insects.


    Satisfied with his work, Pacificus carried the fermenting barrels to his underground chamber. The cool, stable temperature of the underground storage was perfect for the fermentation process. He carefully placed the barrels on a sturdy shelf, ensuring they were secure and undisturbed.


    The underground chamber, with its labyrinthine corridors and glowing mushrooms, offered an almost mystical environment for the wine to ferment. The barrels, now settled in their resting place, seemed to blend seamlessly with the ancient, subterranean surroundings.


    Pacificus regularly checked on the fermenting wine, occasionally stirring it and ensuring everything was progressing smoothly. The initial disappointment faded as he focused on the task, turning potential waste into something meaningful. The process required patience and care, but he was used to such demands from his farming.


    As he worked, a sense of calm washed over him. The rot had been a setback, but it also reminded him of the resilience and resourcefulness his parents had instilled in him. By the time he finished, the sun had started its descent, casting a golden glow over his farm. Pacificus looked at the barrels of fermenting fruit with a mix of relief and pride. He had managed to turn a potential disaster into an opportunity. Though the process had been exhausting, it was also a testament to his ability to adapt and persevere.


    Pacificus knew he had honored the legacy of his ancestors, who had built their lives on ingenuity and determination. As he watched the first stars appear in the twilight sky, he whispered a prayer of gratitude to Gaia and Thanatos, thankful for the strength and wisdom they had bestowed upon him. The day¡¯s challenges had been met, and he was ready for whatever the next day would bring.

 Chapter 3: Cockatrice Stew

    Pacificus made his way into town, noting the state of the crumbling walls. Despite efforts to repair them, the atmosphere was bleak. The laborers, emaciated and exhausted, looked like walking corpses, forced into their tasks under the watchful eyes of well-fed soldiers who did nothing but oversee the work.


    After paying his dues to the Lord of the town, Pacificus headed to the orphanage. Merina greeted him at the door, her black hair more disheveled than usual and her blue eyes filled with worry.


    "Have you seen Arty?!" she called out to Pacificus, her tone desperate.


    Pacificus''s mind raced. He remembered the young child making arrowheads, the one known affectionately as Arty, short for Artemis.


    "No," he replied, shaking his head.


    "Oh Gods!" Merina exclaimed, her panic intensifying. "Where is she?"


    Pacificus thought quickly. Arty had been making arrowheads, likely for hunting. The only nearby hunting ground was the Never Ending Forest. His eyes widened with realization.


    "I''ll try to find her," he said, attempting to calm Merina.


    "Please do, Pacificus," she pleaded.


    As he turned to leave, Merina called out again, "Wait, Pacificus, please wait. Take this with you." She handed him a dagger. "I don''t trust the others. They might have taken her."


    Pacificus nodded, accepting the dagger. He bolted towards the forest, determined to find Arty. The Never Ending Forest loomed ahead, a place he knew well but also feared. The dense foliage and ominous reputation of the forest did not deter him; the thought of Arty alone in such a place drove him forward.


    He sprinted through the familiar terrain, his mind focused on the task at hand. The trees blurred as he moved with a speed and grace that belied his size. Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs heightened his senses, each sound potentially indicating Arty''s presence.


    As he delved deeper into the forest, memories of his own experiences here flooded back. The creatures, the trials, and the blessings of Gaia and Thanatos that had shaped him. His resolve hardened. He would find Arty and bring her back safely, no matter the cost.


    Pacificus''s heart pounded in his chest, not from exertion but from the urgency of the situation. The forest, usually a place of solitude and reflection, now felt like a labyrinth of danger.


    Pacificus couldn''t call out Artemis''s name; the beasts of the Ever Resting Forest were too intelligent, and a shout would only attract them. Their fearsome reputation wasn''t due to sheer strength or speed but their cunning. They could easily outsmart humans, even those as capable as Pacificus.


    As he ventured deeper, a thick fog began to roll in, shrouding the forest in an eerie haze. Whether it was a natural phenomenon or the work of some monster, he couldn''t tell. The fog made the search for Artemis even more challenging, turning the forest into a labyrinth of shadows and indistinct shapes.


    Carefully, Pacificus navigated through the forest, fully aware of its dangers. The Ever Resting Forest was more like a dungeon than a woodland, filled with creatures that could easily distract him with their magnificence. He saw great beasts, their eyes gleaming with intelligence, and trees that moved, revealing themselves as treants. These ancient beings often confused hunters who used them as landmarks, causing many to become hopelessly lost.


    Man-eating plants of various kinds loomed in the mist. Some had potted flowers that snapped shut like jaws, others had sticky vines that ensnared their prey. Each plant was a predator in its own right, capable of capturing even the most cautious humans.


    The forest was alive with dangers, each step a potential threat. Pacificus moved with heightened awareness, his senses on high alert. He marveled at the ecosystem, understanding why even demons and dragons avoided this place. The fog thickened, making visibility almost impossible. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig set his nerves on edge, yet he pressed on, determined to find Artemis.


    He couldn¡¯t afford to be distracted. He needed to find Artemis before any of these dangers could reach her. His mind raced, trying to anticipate the girl''s movements and think like a hunter, not a farmer. The fog seemed to wrap around him like a shroud, but he pushed forward, the dagger Marika gave him gripped tightly in his hand.


    As he moved, he recalled his training, the years spent perfecting his parry in these very woods. He relied on his instincts, honed from countless encounters with the forest''s beasts. Every step was calculated, every movement deliberate. He had to find Artemis, and he had to do it quickly. The forest seemed endless, but his determination was unwavering.


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    A young girl was seen making arrowheads inside her home. She had short silver hair and piercing silver eyes. Her hair was cropped so close that each of her siblings thought she was a boy. But, of course, she was not, and she didn¡¯t mind. Among her siblings, she was the tallest, her stature giving her an air of authority and responsibility. Her nimble fingers worked swiftly, shaping rusty nails and broken shards of metal scavenged from the ruins of their hometown into crude yet functional arrowheads.


    Their family had survived a brutal siege. Hiding in the basement of their home had saved their lives, as the orphanage above was destroyed by monsters¡ªcreatures tamed and unleashed by enemy beast hunters. The memory of that horrific day haunted her every night. The roars of the beasts, the cries of her friends, and the crumbling of their sanctuary echoed in her dreams.


    After the siege, they were left with nothing. Their lives reduced to a constant struggle for survival, scrounging for insects and mushrooms just to stave off starvation. She often thought they were destined to die in such a cruel, slow manner, her heart sinking with each passing day as their food dwindled.


    But then, a giant appeared.


    He was a towering figure, two meters tall with flowing white hair and a majestic white beard. His skin was a healthy, vibrant shade of brown, radiating vitality. One eye was a deep violet, the other a striking blue, making him an unforgettable sight. Even before the siege, she had seen this giant. He was a familiar figure in their town, pulling a massive carriage by himself, laden with sacks often larger than he was. His strength was legendary, his presence both imposing and comforting.


    The giant always went to the Noble¡¯s dwellings first before arriving at the orphanage. He carried those sacks into the young girl¡¯s home, their contents a lifeline for the orphanage and the entire town. Each sack was a treasure trove: one filled with hard bread that needed soaking in water to avoid breaking teeth, another with a mix of potatoes and peculiar produce like a root plant with a screaming face or a massive vine. There was even a time when he brought them a sack full of sheep.


    Thus, the kind giant helped them survive. But even she knew that the giant wouldn¡¯t be able to help them this time.


    At first, it started with people slowly disappearing in town. It began with the elderly, then the young ones. Young Artemis didn¡¯t know what was happening until she saw some men with beaked helmets and black robes carrying dead bodies to a pile. The pale bodies had black swollen skin that was rotting. She even recognized some of the faces of the corpses. After dumping the bodies in a pile, the men with beaked helmets then burned the bodies.


    ¡°What the?¡± said one of the men wearing beaked helmets. ¡°What are you doing here, kid? Scram! It is not safe here!¡±


    She ran away, her heart pounding in her chest. Was it a curse? A cult? She did not know.


    A few days later, she saw one of her siblings with black swollen skin. It started with one, then spread to two. Her siblings were moved to a different room, where they slept and cried in agony.


    ¡®It was a curse,¡¯ she thought to herself. ¡®It was definitely a curse, and those beaked men are the reason for it.¡¯ To her, the beaked men were probably cultists who worshiped the Dark Gods.


    Seeing her siblings suffer from the curse one by one, she grabbed her bow and headed towards the Ever Resting Forest. She had heard it from a story: a couple went to the forest to seek help from a Forgotten Deity. Their child was born with a curse, and they pleaded with the Forgotten God to save their child. The deity granted them their wish.


    If such a God would listen to the plight of mortals such as herself, then surely that God would listen to hers. But the Ever Resting Forest was a living nightmare itself. She gulped as she stared at the dark, foreboding woods.


    The trees loomed like ancient sentinels, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The air was thick with mist, and the distant cries of unseen creatures sent shivers down her spine. Indeed, the forest was terrifying, especially for a small girl like her. But the pile of corpses haunted her more, and she braved the forest in which even demons and dragons refused to enter.


    With every step, her heart pounded louder, the silence of the forest broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant howl of some unknown beast. The fog grew denser, swirling around her like ghostly apparitions. Shadows moved in the periphery of her vision, and the eerie glow of bioluminescent fungi cast an otherworldly light on the twisted landscape.


    Determination fueled her steps, her resolve unwavering despite the terror gnawing at her soul. She had to find the deity, had to save her siblings. The thought of their suffering and the sight of the corpses spurred her forward, deeper into the heart of the Ever Resting Forest.


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    Armed with a dagger, a bow, and some arrows, Artemis ventured deeper into the forest. Each step she took was cautious, the weight of her mission pressing heavily on her small shoulders.


    She stopped abruptly when an enormous creature came into view. It looked like a dragon, but dragons were supposed to have wings, weren¡¯t they? This creature did not. It walked on all fours, its scales looking like an impenetrable armor. Great horns protruded forward, giving it the appearance of a demon from hell. The beast was so large that its head alone was bigger than their orphanage. To her relief, the magnificent creature was sleeping.


    Artemis felt a surge of fear and helplessness as she stared at the beast. She had heard stories of such creatures¡ªbeasts that hunted down dragons themselves. This was a Dragonsbane, also known as a Dreaded Saurian. A creature so immense and vile, it was hidden by leaves, moss, and vines. She gulped, her hands trembling as she carefully stepped past the slumbering nightmare, mindful not to disturb its rest.


    Once she was safely past the Great Beast, she heard a sound¡ªa bell? She couldn¡¯t be sure, but she instinctively hid in the bushes. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath quickening as she peered through the foliage. The sight that met her eyes made her skin crawl.


    A tall, imposing figure walked into view. It was humanoid in appearance, moving on two legs, each step producing a bell-like sound. The creature was shrouded in black robes, its entire body concealed. She couldn¡¯t see its eyes or face and couldn¡¯t tell if it had any. The way it moved, the eerie, deliberate gait, sent chills down her spine.


    Artemis covered her mouth, stifling any sound that might escape. The terror was palpable, her heart racing as she tried to remain hidden. The creature''s presence was suffocating, an embodiment of fear itself. She stayed perfectly still, her small form blending into the foliage, praying the creature wouldn¡¯t notice her.


    The creature simply passed by the bushes where Artemis was hiding. She remained perfectly still, not daring to move or make a sound until the bell-like ringing faded into the distance. Tears streamed down her face, but she stayed in her sanctuary of leaves and branches, too terrified to emerge.


    Hours later, she took a deep breath and crawled out of her hiding place. She didn''t bother standing up, finding solace in the cover of the bushes. They were her friends, her protection against the forest''s many dangers.


    Despite her fear, her determination to seek help from the Forgotten Deity drove her onward. The orphanage was her family, and the thought of losing them to the curse was unbearable. She had to keep going.


    Suddenly, a tree moved. She froze in fear as it revealed a face¡ªan uncanny and terrifying face with golden eyes that locked onto her silver ones. The tree, or what seemed like a hunchbacked man with long arms and legs covered in bark, moved slowly through the wilderness. Branches sprouted from its back, adorned with vibrant leaves, and it walked without a sound.


    Artemis stared at the walking tree-man, paralyzed for a moment before continuing her journey, still crawling through the bushes. The forest grew darker and more ominous, each step a test of her courage.


    Then she smelled something foul, a stench so putrid it made her stomach churn. It was the stench of death. She turned around slowly, dread creeping up her spine. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw a pair of eyes staring back at her.


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    Meanwhile, Pacificus was walking through the Ever Resting Forest, his senses alert to every rustle and movement. Suddenly, a massive creature swooped down from the canopy, attacking with a powerful dive. It was bird-like but without feathers, its reptilian skin gleaming in the dim forest light.


    "A Winged Hypobeast," Pacificus murmured with a smile, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "And a big one."


    He nodded in approval as he deftly used his dagger to parry the beast''s attack. The creature''s massive beak clashed against the blade, its trajectory redirected by the force of the parry. The Hypobeast, surprised, veered off course and crashed headfirst into a nearby tree.


    "A healthy scavenger means a healthy ecosystem," Pacificus said, admiring the featherless beast. Despite its intimidating size and the fact that its head alone was large enough to swallow him whole, he showed no fear.


    The Hypobeast, startled by the unexpected challenge, hesitated for a moment before flapping its massive wings and retreating into the sky. Pacificus watched it go, a sense of satisfaction filling him.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Continuing his journey, he soon encountered a moving tree¡ªan ent, its ancient form towering above him.


    "Greetings, ancient one," Pacificus said, bowing respectfully to the ent.


    The ent''s golden eyes reflected his image, studying him with a deep, timeless wisdom.


    "I am looking for a child. Have you seen one?" Pacificus asked.


    The ent extended one of its long, branch-like fingers, pointing in a specific direction. Leaves and vines draped from its outstretched limb, swaying gently.


    "Thank you, ancient one," Pacificus said gratefully, bowing once more.


    The ent nodded slowly before continuing on its ponderous path, each step a testament to its age and strength.


    As for Pacificus, he sprinted towards the direction the ent had pointed, his heart pounding with urgency. The forest, with its myriad dangers, closed in around him, but his focus was unwavering. He soon heard the unmistakable sound of a child screaming, spurring him to push harder through the underbrush.


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    Young Artemis didn''t know what she was looking at. When her eyes met the creature''s gaze, she was filled with terror. The beast was birdlike, with black feathers and a massive, disgusting bloat dangling from its neck. Its golden eyes were sharp and focused, like those of a predatory bird.


    Artemis had heard stories of dragons, and this creature resembled a feathered dragon with a head that looked like a monstrous rooster.


    She heard the flapping of its wings, felt the rush of wind pass her back, and then found herself airborne as the winged beast grabbed her with its talons.


    In panic, she screamed, her mind racing. Held aloft by the beast''s claws, she had no choice but to fight back. Grabbing an arrow from her quiver, she stabbed the creature''s foot with all her might.


    The beast shrieked in surprise and pain, releasing its grip. Artemis plummeted towards the ground, her fall broken by the branches of a tree. She tumbled through the leaves, the branches snapping under her weight. She landed ungracefully in a thicket of bushes, her life saved by the cushioning plants.


    She lay there, dazed and winded, her body aching from the impact. The world around her spun, but she forced herself to move, to get up and keep going.


    It was a brilliant decision, for the hungry winged beast wouldn''t let go of its prey. It swooped down, trying to grab young Artemis, who was now trying to run away from it. She panicked and screamed. Who could blame her? She ran deeper towards the trees, hoping the dense forest would slow the creature''s descent.


    It worked somewhat, but this was the beast''s home. Its huge size wasn''t a detriment to navigating the forest. Like a snake slithering through branches, the creature folded its black wings and weaved through the trees, its claws ready to snatch the young girl.


    With eyes full of hunger and a beak slobbering in anticipation of its meal, the creature''s claws moved closer and closer to young Artemis, determined to give its prey a quick death.


    Just as its claws were about to close around Artemis, the direction of its attack suddenly changed, and the creature''s world turned upside down.


    It heard an unfamiliar voice. Unlike the girl''s cries and screams, this voice was happy and jolly. "A beautiful creation of nature," said the low voice. "It''s a cockatrice."


    The cockatrice screeched in confusion and frustration, flapping its wings wildly to regain its balance.


    Pacificus looks at the horrified Artemis. She had dropped her bow when the cockatrice grabbed her, now armed only with a dagger and a bunch of arrows.


    "Lady Artemis," says Pacificus, smiling warmly at the young girl, "please head back home. Lady Merina is worried for your safety. Also, please don''t return to the forest without assistance from a hunter."


    "B-BEHIND YOU!"


    Pacificus turns just in time to meet the cockatrice''s beak with his palm, redirecting its attack. The creature tumbles to the ground, losing its balance.


    "Hmm," Pacificus nods in approval. "Beautiful creature. It''s also a male, judging by the large and bright combs and wattles. A magnificent specimen, don''t you agree, Lady Artemis?"


    "NO! PLEASE LET''S GET OUT OF HERE!" she cries.


    "I agree."


    While the cockatrice struggles to stand, Pacificus scoops up young Artemis onto his shoulder. The cockatrice shrieks, its neck inflating ominously. It releases a dark gas from its beak, the cloud rushing towards Pacificus and Artemis.


    Artemis yelps, hugging Pacificus''s head tightly. Pacificus swings his dagger with such force that it creates a sonic boom, generating a strong gust of wind that redirects the gas back towards the cockatrice, surrounding it in its own smoke.


    "Please remember, Lady Artemis, these smoke clouds can turn you to stone. Cockatrices only use this ability when they feel threatened. They will never use it on their prey, as they can''t eat stone."


    "LET''S JUST GO!" she cries, "I WANT TO GO HOME!"


    "Good idea, Lady Artemis. Agitating beasts and animals is never wise. It''s best to leave these creatures alone in their habitat. Let us go, Lady Artemis."


    "IT''S COMING BACK! IT''S COMING BACK!"


    The cockatrice, shaking off the effects of its own petrifying gas, lunges towards them once more. Its golden eyes gleam with predatory fury as it spreads its wings wide, preparing to strike again.


    Pacificus lets Artemis stand on her own two feet, turning to face the advancing cockatrice with his back to the girl. He thinks about teaching her an important lesson about dealing with monsters. "Lady Artemis," says Pacificus, his voice calm and collected, "when facing a wild beast, it is important to note that they never hunt for pleasure but for survival. The best way to fight a beast is to be brave."


    He spreads his legs, assuming a stable stance. "Stand your ground."


    He spreads his arms wide, making himself appear larger like a bear. "And show no fear."


    The cockatrice roars at Pacificus, charging with alarming speed. However, Pacificus fearlessly faces the beast and roars back with all his might.


    The action catches the cockatrice by surprise, causing it to stumble in its flight, flapping its wings awkwardly to regain balance. The sight is almost comedic¡ªa grown man bellowing at a ferocious beast, while the cockatrice, momentarily bewildered, pauses to reassess its target.


    Artemis watches, her jaw dropping in disbelief. The scene is surreal: the giant, roaring man standing his ground, and the cockatrice, clearly puzzled by the unexpected display of defiance.


    The cockatrice roars back, its shriek a bone-chilling sound that pierces the air. Pacificus responds with another roar, his voice a booming echo that causes the creature to hesitate, bewildered. The beast almost looks embarrassed as it backs away, hovering uncertainly before flying off into the dense forest.


    "See that, Lady Artemis?" Pacificus says, smiling reassuringly at the young girl. "You can scare a beast by showing courage. That way, you can avoid unnecessary conflict. But it''s also important to show respect and keep proper boundaries with these magnificent creatures."


    Artemis blinks, trying to process what she just witnessed. The surreal experience leaves her questioning reality. But then, she notices the shadow of the cockatrice looming closer once more. She sees the madness in its eyes, the relentless hunger. Terror fills her to the core, and she screams, "IT''S BACK!"


    Perhaps it has a sense of pride, or maybe it cannot tolerate being bested by a smaller creature. Or perhaps it¡¯s driven purely by hunger. Whatever the reason, the cockatrice returns with a vengeance. It charges straight at Pacificus, diving like a falcon with talons outstretched, aiming for a fatal strike.


    In a heartbeat, Pacificus reacts. With practiced precision, he uses his dagger to parry the beast''s attack, redirecting its lethal momentum towards a large tree. The cockatrice slams headfirst into the tree trunk with a sickening thud.


    Dazed and enraged, the cockatrice struggles to regain its footing. It glares at Pacificus, its eyes blazing with fury. It opens its beak to let out a final, defiant roar, but before it can, a massive branch snaps free from above, crashing down onto the creature''s head with a heavy, final blow.


    Pacificus watches in horror as the life fades from the cockatrice''s eyes. "Nooo!" he cries, his voice filled with anguish. "I did it again." His shoulders slump in defeat. "I killed another beautiful creature. I have broken my oath."


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    "You did it," Artemis said, her eyes brimming with relief and awe. "You killed the monster."


    "Yes," Pacificus sighed, his voice heavy with regret. "I have... I killed a beautiful creature."


    Artemis looked at the giant, her face a picture of confusion. "What are you so sad about?"


    "I killed a beautiful creature," Pacificus repeated, his tone mournful. "I vowed to only kill for the sake of eating. This encounter... this encounter is a waste of life. I''m so ashamed... WOE ME! WOE MY SHAME!" His lament echoed through the forest, his broad shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt.


    Artemis blinked, trying to process his words. "Tha-thank you, Mr... ahh, Pacificus, was it?"


    "Yes, that is my name," he replied, a trace of sorrow still lingering in his eyes.


    "Please accompany me to the temple of the Forgotten God," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation.


    "I can''t do that, Lady Artemis," Pacificus said gently. "Lady Merina is worried for you."


    "But I can''t return," she insisted, her eyes wide with urgency. "Please, Sir Pacificus, my family has been cursed and I need the aid of a god to break it."


    Pacificus looked at her, admiration flickering in his gaze. "Oh," he said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "What kind of curse?"


    "I... I don''t know," Artemis admitted, her voice trembling. "Their skin turns black, and they become ill and weak."


    "Ahh... a sickness," Pacificus murmured, his eyes shifting to the cockatrice. "There is no need to go to the temple, Lady Artemis."


    "What?" she asked, her confusion deepening.


    "Because the cure for your curse is right here," Pacificus explained.


    "Really?" Artemis''s face lit up with hope. "Where?"


    "There," he pointed at the cockatrice.


    "That thing? It''s a monster and it smells horrible," Artemis recoiled, her nose wrinkling in disgust.


    "Lady Artemis," Pacificus began, his tone patient and instructive, "cockatrice blood is used by apothecaries to cure diseases and poison. These magnificent creatures smell bad because they are also scavengers who scavenge the most putrid and rotten meat out there. They can also eat poisonous creatures."


    "Doesn''t that make the cockatrice poisonous?" Artemis asked, her eyebrows furrowing.


    "Venomous, my lady. Cockatrices are venomous, not poisonous. Anyway," Pacificus smiled as he grabbed the cockatrice''s head, "please follow me. This creature has died by my hands, and I do not intend to waste it."


    "What are you going to do to it?" Artemis asked, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and revulsion.


    "Cook it and eat it, of course," Pacificus replied cheerfully.


    "EAT IT?" Artemis echoed, her eyes widening in shock.


    "Of course," Pacificus said with a smile. "It will make a good stew, don''t you think so?


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    Artemis still couldn¡¯t believe it. The cockatrice was a huge creature, yet Pacificus dragged the monster in front of the town gate without any effort, its lifeless body trailing behind him like a sack of feathers.


    "Oh, please tell Lady Merina that I need to borrow the largest cauldron they have," Pacificus instructed, his voice light-hearted and casual.


    Merina spotted Artemis, her eyes filling with relief as she rushed to embrace the young girl. "Where have you been?" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms tightly around Artemis.


    Artemis hugged her back, feeling the familiar comfort of Merina''s protective embrace. "I was saved by Pacificus. I was attacked by a monster in the forest."


    "What!?" Merina pulled back, her face a mixture of horror and relief. "Don¡¯t you go there again! Who knows what would have happened if it wasn¡¯t for Pacificus."


    "I know, Mom. I¡¯m sorry.... Can I borrow the large cauldron? Mr. Pacificus needs it."


    "What? What for?"


    "He says he wants to cook cockatrice stew for us."


    Merina stared at her, speechless for a moment, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to process the request.


    "Mom?" Artemis prompted, her voice tentative.


    "Cockatrice stew?" Merina finally managed to say, her eyes widening. "He wants to cook a cockatrice?"


    Artemis nodded.


    Merina sighed, shaking her head. "Alright, but you¡¯re not going near that thing again. I¡¯ll get the cauldron."


    "Thank you, Mom!" Artemis said, relief washing over her.


    Artemis returned with Merina, her eyes widening as she spotted the three men in black robes and beak helmets conversing with Pacificus. They seemed engaged in a transaction involving bags of cockatrice blood, exchanged with hesitant smiles and uneasy gestures.


    "Mom, it''s them," Artemis whispered urgently.


    "Who?" Merina asked, her voice tinged with concern.


    "The cultists," Artemis replied, her voice barely above a whisper.


    "Cultists?" Merina''s eyes widened with alarm. "What are they doing here?"


    Artemis pointed discreetly at the trio, who were now discussing something with Pacificus. The men in black robes seemed agitated, one of them visibly frustrated, his voice rising in anger.


    "You saved this town, you know," one of the black-robed men said to Pacificus, his tone strained. "It seems the plague has returned once again. Gods! What is with these people!" His voice turned bitter. "There''s a plague going on, and they''re more concerned with declaring war with each other! Agghhh! Those selfish, fat, irresponsible, motherfu¡ª"


    "Here is your blood, Doctor," Pacificus interjected calmly, handing over another bag of cockatrice blood.


    "Oh, thank you," the doctor replied, visibly calming down.


    "And can we have the venom sac too?" another beaked man inquired eagerly.


    "Sure," Pacificus nodded, retrieving a sack from the carcass of the cockatrice.


    "How much do we owe you, Sir Hunter?" the beaked man asked.


    "I... I don''t know," Pacificus scratched his head awkwardly. "I wasn''t planning on selling it... I just wanted to cook it."


    The three men exchanged glances, clearly intrigued. "Can we have some?" one of them asked.


    "Of course," Pacificus smiled warmly. "This thing is huge."


    "Indeed," a beaked man nodded, eyeing the massive carcass thoughtfully. "I didn''t even know cockatrices could get that big."


    "Pacificus," a familiar voice interrupted, and Artemis peered out from behind the large cauldron. "You need to borrow our cauldron?"


    Pacificus blushed slightly at Merina''s unexpected arrival. "Y-yes," he stammered. "Thank you."


    "Then by all means, please use it," Artemis replied, gesturing towards the cauldron.


    Gratefully, Pacificus took the cauldron, while Artemis darted behind Merina, seeking refuge from the curious gazes of the doctors.


    The doctors exchanged glances, their eyes shifting between Artemis, Merina, and Pacificus. One of them finally spoke up, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It''s the masks, isn''t it?"


    Merina chuckled softly. "Yes, Doctor, it''s the masks."


    With a nod of understanding, the three doctors removed their masks, revealing their faces. To Artemis''s surprise, one of them was actually a woman, her expression kind yet serious.


    "I apologize for the masks," the female doctor said warmly, addressing Artemis and Merina. "They''re necessary in our line of work, but they can be unsettling."


    Pacificus set to work preparing the cockatrice stew with practiced efficiency, his movements deliberate and skilled. He began by meticulously cleaning the enormous bird-like creature, deftly removing its feathers and tough outer scales. With a heavy cleaver, he carefully segmented the meat into manageable portions, revealing its muscular, sinewy texture.


    In a large, weathered cauldron perched over a crackling fire pit, Pacificus arranged the chunks of cockatrice meat. He started with the breast, opting to sear them first in hot oil to lock in their juices and enhance their natural flavors. The meat sizzled and browned, filling the air with a savory aroma that mingled with the scent of burning wood.


    Meanwhile, Pacificus prepared the vegetables. He chopped onions, carrots, and potatoes into hearty chunks, adding them to the cauldron along with the searing meat. Each vegetable hit the hot surface with a satisfying sizzle, quickly absorbing the flavors released by the cockatrice meat.


    To enrich the stew, Pacificus poured in a homemade broth made from simmering bones and aromatic herbs. The broth bubbled and steamed as it enveloped the ingredients, infusing them with a deep, earthy essence. He seasoned the stew generously with salt, pepper, and a blend of wild herbs gathered from the forest, ensuring each element contributed to the robust flavor profile he sought.


    As the cauldron simmered over the open flame, Pacificus stirred the stew methodically with a long-handled wooden spoon. He monitored the heat, adjusting it carefully to maintain a steady, gentle boil that would tenderize the tougher cuts of cockatrice meat without compromising their texture.


    Occasionally, Pacificus sampled the stew, tasting for seasoning and richness. Satisfied with the balance of flavors, he added a final flourish of fresh herbs to brighten the stew and elevate its aromatic complexity.


    "That smells delicious," the female doctor complimented, her eyes bright with anticipation.


    "Thank you," Pacificus replied warmly, a slight smile forming on his lips as he continued to stir the bubbling concoction. "But there''s too much meat left," he mused, glancing over at the sizable leftover portions of cockatrice. "I don''t want to waste any of it."


    Artemis, eager to help, hurried off to call her siblings while one of the plague doctors fetched a larger cauldron from nearby storage.


    "We have a plague-stricken town to feed, if that''s all right with you, Sir Hunter," the doctor noted, setting down the bigger pot beside Pacificus.


    "Of course," Pacificus nodded, his attention shifting from the stew to the task of transferring the remaining ingredients into the larger vessel.


    As word spread through the town, a line began to form around the cauldron. Residents, initially drawn by curiosity and the tantalizing aroma, soon found themselves marveling at the sheer size of the cockatrice that had become their unexpected feast.


    "I didn''t know you could eat monsters," remarked one elderly man, his eyes wide with amazement as he filled his bowl.


    "It tastes like chicken. I love chicken," another person chimed in with a chuckle, clearly enjoying the hearty meal.


    "That thing is so huge, it could feed the whole town," a young mother observed, spooning stew into her child''s bowl.


    "And delicious too," added a teenager, savoring each bite as if discovering a new favorite dish.


    Throughout the evening, lively conversations filled the air as the townspeople gathered in the courtyard, sharing stories and laughter over generous helpings of cockatrice stew. For a brief moment, worries and other troubles were set aside, replaced by a sense of community and gratitude for the nourishing meal.

 Chapter 4: Harpy Omelet

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    The massive cockatrice provided an abundance of meat, and Pacificus generously shared it with the entire town. As they worked together, the townsfolk marveled at the unexpected bounty.


    "With this much meat, we won''t go hungry for a month or two," someone commented, a mixture of relief and excitement in their voice.


    "We should turn this meat into pemmican before it rots," another suggested, nodding thoughtfully.


    "Good idea," agreed several others, already discussing the best methods to preserve the valuable food.


    The three doctors, carrying bags of cockatrice blood, departed for their temple, ready to put the valuable ingredient to good use in their treatments.


    "The doctors said that cockatrice blood can help us with the plague," one of the townsfolk remarked.


    "Really?" another replied, surprised.


    "We could turn it into a blood soup."


    "Ugh... Guess we have no choice," someone muttered, but there was a sense of reluctant acceptance.


    Pacificus, already a well-known figure due to his imposing stature and distinctive appearance, was now celebrated as a hero by the grateful townsfolk. His deeds in providing not only a meal but also a solution to the plague had cemented his status in their eyes.


    Yet, for the humble giant, life returned to its usual rhythm. After the communal feast, Pacificus retreated to his modest home, where he found solace and rest. He slept soundly, the day''s events a testament to his principles and actions.


    With the arrival of morning, Pacificus resumed his routine. He swung his wooden sword with practiced precision, each movement a dance of strength and control. Afterward, he knelt in quiet prayer before the two small trees that served as a modest shrine dedicated to his parents, seeking guidance and honoring their memory.


    Following his prayer, Pacificus prepared his breakfast. He cooked rice, cockatrice meat, and vegetables, but as he reached for the eggs, he realized he was out. A slight frown crossed his face, but he shrugged it off and enjoyed his meal without the eggs.


    Once he finished eating, Pacificus moved on to his next task. He wandered through his farm, inspecting the crops with a keen eye. Each plant was healthy and thriving, a testament to his hard work and care. His heart swelled with pride and contentment as he tended to the plants.


    However, a new task loomed on the horizon: a quest for eggs. Knowing he had no livestock, he decided to venture into the Never Ending Forest.


    Pacificus stood at the edge of the Never Ending Forest, armed with a basket and a rope. In front of him, a collection of large trees stretched up to the heavens, their ancient trunks shrouded in an aura of mystery and danger. The forest was notorious, a place where even dragons and demons feared to tread. But Pacificus was undeterred. His goal: to climb these great trees and find the eggs he needed.


    With a determined expression, Pacificus began his ascent. His muscles strained as he gripped the rough bark, each pull bringing him higher into the treacherous canopy. The journey was fraught with peril.


    A huge scorpion, its stinger glistening with venom, emerged from a crevice and lunged at him. Pacificus deftly dodged its attack, admiring the creature''s beauty before continuing his climb. Moments later, a beetle with pincers large enough to cut him in half clambered into his path. With a quick, fluid movement, he parried its advance, leaving it behind as he scaled higher.


    A massive black birdlike creature swooped down, its talons outstretched to snatch him from the trunk. Pacificus twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the attack, and watched as the bird lost interest and flew away. He encountered a huge lizard whose tongue shot out like a whip, trying to ensnare him. With a swift maneuver, he evaded the sticky appendage and continued his upward journey.


    Despite the relentless threats, Pacificus moved with grace and precision, each encounter leaving him unscathed. The creatures of the forest quickly realized they couldn''t harm this determined man, and they backed off, defeated by his skill and agility.


    Finally, Pacificus reached a massive branch, so wide and sturdy that he could walk on it without fear of falling. In the distance, he spotted several giant nests, each one the size of his hut. He approached the nearest nest and began his careful inspection.


    One by one, Pacificus invaded the nests, gently lifting the giant eggs and holding them up to the light. He searched for the telltale dot that indicated fertility. If an egg was fertile, he carefully placed it back in the nest. If not, he took it, placing it gently in his basket. Each egg was the size of his head.


    With his basket gradually filling, Pacificus moved from nest to nest, his movements precise and respectful. He understood the balance of nature and took only what was necessary, ensuring that the owners of the nest would continue to thrive.


    Before Pacificus could make his descent from the magnificent tree, one of the nest owners spotted him. It screeched loudly, its voice echoing through the forest. With a wingspan that blocked Pacificus''s path, the creature stood as tall as a woman, with the face and torso of one as well. But there, the human similarities ended. It had enormous wings, sharp talons capable of easily cutting flesh, and eagle-like legs. This was a harpy, and it was clearly angry.


    Soon, more harpies joined the first, rushing towards Pacificus with fierce determination. Despite their uncanny and terrifying appearance to most, Pacificus found them... beautiful. He admired their distinct features and noted the differences between male and female harpies. The males were more colorful, with vibrant feathers in yellow, red, blue, orange, and even purple, often adorned with intricate patterns. In contrast, the females had feathers in more subdued shades of brown or drab green.


    As the harpies approached, talons extended in aggression, Pacificus couldn''t bear the thought of harming such magnificent creatures. Instead, he parried their attacks. Each harpy found its strikes either missing or being redirected, leaving them bewildered. Their confusion grew as their attacks were deftly turned aside, seemingly by some unseen force.


    Then came the harpy soldiers, armed with spears made from sticks with sharpened points. Pacificus marveled at their ingenuity and resourcefulness. There were even times when he spotted some harpies using fire to cook their meals, a testament to their intelligence and adaptability.


    Despite their aggressive posture, Pacificus felt a deep respect for the harpies. He knew that these creatures lived in family groups, their large nests housing multiple generations. They were defending their homes, and he understood their fierce protectiveness. Not wanting to harm them, he decided to flee.


    After all, he was the blessed child of Gaia and Thanatos. He leaped from a height that would be fatal for any ordinary person, a fall that would render a body unrecognizable. Yet, Pacificus was no ordinary man. As he plummeted, he landed on a branch with the grace of a master, performing a feat that to an observer might look like a simple front handspring.


    In truth, the act was far more extraordinary. As the blessed child of the gods, Pacificus had the unique ability to master inertia, to parry even the force of gravity itself. When he landed, he skillfully transferred the force of his fall through his feet, up to his hands, and then down into the ground. This incredible control over the laws of physics was a divine gift, breaking the natural order set by the True Gods.


    Pacificus stood for a moment, looking up at the harpies circling above. Their talons clutched spears, and they remained on high alert, their sharp eyes trained on him. He understood their vigilance; they were merely protecting their homes and families. With a respectful nod, Pacificus acknowledged their guardianship, showing that he had no intention of further disturbing their nests.


    He began his descent, moving from one massive branch to another. Each step was careful and deliberate, his movements a seamless blend of strength and grace. As he climbed down, he encountered more creatures of the Never Ending Forest, each one as magnificent and terrifying as the last. Yet, none dared to challenge him further, recognizing his respectful demeanor and formidable presence.


    Pacificus journeys downward. His parrying abilities, honed to perfection, allowed him to navigate the perilous descent without injury. Each leap and landing transferred the kinetic energy through his body and into the tree, defying the natural laws and showcasing his extraordinary mastery over inertia.


    Finally, Pacificus reached the forest floor, landing with a soft, controlled thud. He took a deep breath, feeling the solid ground beneath his feet.


    Pacificus approached his hut, the basket of eggs tied securely to his back. Dried leaves and hay cushioned the precious cargo, ensuring the eggs remained intact despite his movements. He carefully checked the basket, counting twelve eggs, all neatly tucked in.


    As he neared the entrance of his home, familiar voices reached his ears. He paused, listening to his unexpected guests.


    "I told you," said a young girl, her tone insistent. "He defeated that cockatrice with Merina''s dagger."


    "I don''t think you can kill something that big with a dagger, sis," replied a young boy, his voice full of doubt.


    "I am telling you the truth, Pollo. I''m honest."


    Pacificus''s face paled when he saw his two guests.


    He looked at them, thinking of Merina as a mother of these children. The thing about parents, whether they be beast or human, is they would do everything in their power to protect their children. Right now, Merina''s two beloved cubs were in front of his little hut. If a careless person stood close to a cub, the parent of that cub would not hesitate to attack that intruder, even if it cost its life. That was one of the things he admired about parents. Right now, two of those cubs were in front of his hut. What would Merina think? He did not want to face Merina''s wrath.


    He approached the two young cubs, apprehension and worry evident on his face.


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    "Greetings, young ones," he said, forcing a smile. "What are you doing here?"


    "Mr. Pacificus," young Artemis called out, running toward him. Pacificus paled even further, the image of an angry Merina vivid in his mind. "Mr. Pacificus, Mr. Pacificus, please teach us how to hunt?"


    Pacificus blinked, taken aback. "P-pardon, young lady?"


    "Please teach us how to hunt," she repeated, her eyes bright with childish innocence. The sight of her earnest plea tugged at Pacificus''s heart.


    "But young lady... I am not a hunter. I am a farmer," he protested gently.


    "What? That can''t be... You must be lying."


    "I am nothing more than a farmer, Lady Artemis."


    "But you defeated a cockatrice," she insisted.


    "I did harm a beautiful creature, yes," Pacificus admitted.


    "Wait," the young boy interjected, surprise evident in his voice. "You killed the cockatrice with a dagger?"


    "No, young lord," Pacificus corrected. "I parried its attack into a tree to calm it, but unfortunately, a branch fell upon its head, killing it on the spot."


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    The young boy blinked in astonishment. "What? H-how? That thing is huge!"


    "Lady Artemis, Lord Apollo, is Lady Merina aware of your presence here?" Pacificus asked, concern in his voice.


    "N-no," Artemis said, looking away.


    "I just followed her because Mother Merina told us to keep an eye on her," young Apollo added.


    "Then we must return to your home," Pacificus declared, rushing toward one of his shacks to grab his huge cart.


    The two kids looked at the cart in amazement. It was enormous, the kind of cart only a monster could pull.


    They hopped in, and Pacificus began to pull the cart effortlessly. The children stared at the giant man, then at each other, full of wonder.


    "Mr. Pacificus," young Apollo asked, "how did you become so strong?"


    "I exercise," Pacificus replied. "I swing a heavy sword every day. There was even a time when I ran in the forest to improve my stamina and muscle control."


    "I thought you were a farmer? Why are you training like a warrior?" Apollo questioned.


    "My mother is a warrior," Pacificus said with a smile. "She taught me how to wield weapons and how to exercise."


    "Ahh, so you are a warrior too?" Artemis asked, her curiosity piqued.


    "No, Lady Artemis, I am a farmer like my father and his father before him. Though my father claimed that his father was actually a blacksmith and his mother was a beast tamer."


    "Then how did you get so strong despite being a farmer? You must have good combat skills," young Apollo inquired.


    Pacificus looked a bit embarrassed. "Actually, I only have one combat skill."


    "What is it?" the two children asked in unison, their curiosity growing.


    "It is the skill that the voice of creation called ''Parry,''" Pacificus explained.


    "It must be a really strong skill," Artemis said, eyes wide with admiration.


    "No, it''s not. It is a basic skill. Everyone, despite their class, can have that skill. Even a farmer like me has that skill," Pacificus said humbly.


    "Then please teach me how to parry," Artemis quickly replied, her eyes determined.


    "Why would you want to learn that skill, Lady Artemis?" Pacificus asked gently.


    "I want to get stronger," she said with a resolute tone.


    Young Apollo looked at his sister, concern etched on his face.


    "When that cockatrice attacked me, I was scared... really scared. I felt helpless, I felt I was going to die. I don''t want to feel that way again," Artemis confessed, her voice trembling slightly.


    "Lady Artemis, there is no shame in being afraid. Even soldiers going to battle are afraid. To fear death is a natural response," Pacificus reassured her.


    "Even so, I want to get stronger. I want to have the power to protect those that I care about," Artemis insisted.


    "That is a good mindset to have, Lady Artemis," Pacificus acknowledged with a nod.


    "So will you train me?" Artemis''s eyes sparkled with determination.


    "We... we have to ask for Lady Merina''s permission first. After all, training is not an easy task, Lady Artemis. You need to have discipline not only in training but also when it comes to using the strength you gain during that training," Pacificus explained.


    "What do you mean?" Artemis asked, a puzzled look on her face.


    "You''ll understand it when we start training, Lady Artemis. Every person in this world must know that one of the greatest forms of strength is control... not just over your body but also over your emotions. Uncontrolled power is wasted power... at least that is what my mom used to say to me," Pacificus said, smiling softly at the memory.


    It didn''t take long for them to arrive in town. Pacificus felt his heart race as he caught sight of Merina. Her short black hair and blue eyes always seemed so beautiful to him.


    "Hi, Mom," Apollo said as he jumped out of the cart.


    "Apollo? Artemis? What are you doing in Pacificus''s cart?" Merina asked, her voice a mix of surprise and concern.


    "Artemis went to Pacificus''s farm," Apollo explained.


    "Wha-what?" Merina''s voice trembled slightly as she walked toward Pacificus, holding the two children''s hands. "I''m sorry for inconveniencing you, Pacificus, and thank you for bringing my kids back."


    "It''s okay," Pacificus replied.


    "Mom, I asked Pacificus to train me how to hunt," Artemis said, her eyes pleading. "Can I? Please?"


    "Mr. Pacificus is a busy man, Artemis. Tending to a farm is hard work," Merina said, looking at Pacificus with an apologetic expression. "I''m sorry for troubling you, Pacificus."


    "I-I-I-I am not troubled in any way," Pacificus stuttered. "I don''t mind teaching Artemis how to exercise... H-h-how old is she?"


    "She is seven years old."


    "Which deity will she get her skills from?"


    "Oh, that''s for her to decide. Which reminds me, which deity do you serve, Pacificus?"


    "I serve Gaia and Thanatos."


    "Pardon?"


    "Gaia and Thanatos... t-they are the forgotten gods of the temple in the middle of the Never Ending Forest."


    "Oh, I see... I serve the eternal flame, Vesta."


    The two kids looked at the pair, their curiosity evident. One was a giant whose face was turning red, and the other was a rather tall woman dressed in rags filled with stitches.


    "Are they courting each other?" young Apollo asked innocently.


    "N-NO, WE ARE NOT!" the two responded quickly, their faces turning crimson.


    "Can I train with Mr. Pacificus then?" young Artemis pleaded.


    Merina, now blushing, sighed tiredly and resigned herself to the situation. "Okay, fine. But you have to be careful."


    "I will."


    "Make sure you do not bother Mr. Pacificus."


    "I won''t."


    "You must stay away from the forest," Pacificus interjected with a serious face.


    "What? But how will I learn to hunt then?" Artemis protested.


    "You will learn that when you receive the blessings of the god you choose."


    "But that could take years. I''m still seven."


    "It is because you are still seven that you need to stay away from the forest, Lady Artemis. You are still too young. You need to be patient," Pacificus explained gently.


    "Okay," Artemis conceded, her voice tinged with disappointment.


    <hr>


    As dawn broke, the sky was painted with hues of pink and gold, heralding a new day. The air was crisp and cool, filled with the scent of dew-kissed grass. A young girl approached Pacificus''s humble hut, her footsteps light but determined. She had risen before the sun, her excitement driving her to head to Pacificus''s place at first light.


    As she neared the hut, she paused, her breath catching at the sight before her. Pacificus stood in the clearing, his form a silhouette against the rising sun. He swung a wooden sword with practiced precision, each movement fluid and powerful. To her, his actions seemed like a blur, a mesmerizing dance of strength and control. She watched in awe as he executed what seemed like a hundred consecutive parries, the air whistling with the speed of his strikes.


    After finishing his exercise, Pacificus knelt in front of two small trees. These trees, modest and unassuming, served as a shrine dedicated to his parents. The sight was sacred, imbued with a sense of reverence and tranquility. Artemis stood still, not wanting to disturb the solemn ritual. She felt as though she were witnessing something deeply personal and profound, and a deep respect welled up within her for the giant who prayed so earnestly.


    When the giant stood up, Artemis decided it was the right time to call her new teacher.


    "Mr. Pacificus," she called out softly.


    "Oh, Young Artemis. You are early... too early," he replied, turning to face her with a gentle smile.


    "I am ready to train," she declared, her eyes shining with determination.


    Pacificus looked at the young girl with a mixture of concern and affection. "Have you eaten your breakfast?" he asked.


    "Y-yes," she stammered, avoiding his gaze.


    Pacificus raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "What did you eat?"


    "Uhhh," she hesitated, looking down at her feet.


    "You did not eat, did you?" he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.


    "No. I''m sorry," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.


    "Come inside, young lady. Don''t skip breakfast. It is an important meal, for you need energy to start your day."


    "But... But I didn''t want to wake up Merina and the others. They''ve been working hard... too hard. They don''t just feed us, they feed the others too," she explained, her eyes pleading for understanding.


    "Oh, I see." Pacificus said, his voice softening. Deep inside, he felt genuine respect for the orphanage. To feed others, not just their children, their generosity and kindness knew no bounds. However, he couldn''t bear the thought of a hungry child. Perhaps it was because he was at the age where he was supposed to be a father, or maybe the child in front of him was awakening his fatherly instincts. Either way, a thought filled his mind: he must feed the young ones. It was his responsibility not just as an adult but as a farmer, a profession he took great pride in. If he couldn''t feed a young child, then he had failed as a farmer, which for Pacificus, was unacceptable.


    Inside the small hut, Pacificus stood by the fire, a large frying pan heating up in front of him. He wanted to ensure Artemis had a full, nourishing breakfast to start her day, knowing the exercise would be straining on her young body. Determined to make something special, he grabbed one of the harpy eggs, marveling at its size¡ªit was as large as his head.


    Carefully, he cracked the harpy egg into a bowl. The yolk was a rich, deep yellow, almost golden, and the whites were thick and viscous. He whisked the egg with a practiced hand, creating a smooth, consistent mixture. As he whisked, he added a pinch of his prized salt, its grains shimmering like tiny crystals, and a mix of spices that filled the hut with a warm, inviting aroma. The spices were a blend of herbs he had gathered from his farm, each one adding a unique flavor to the dish.


    Next, Pacificus chopped some vegetables he had harvested from his farm. Bright green bell peppers, red tomatoes, and fragrant onions were diced into small, even pieces. He then took out some pemmican made from cockatrice meat, its smoky flavor and rich texture would add a hearty element to the omelet. He cut the pemmican into small cubes, ensuring that each bite would be infused with its savory taste.


    He added a dollop of fat to the huge frying pan, and as it melted, it sizzled and spread, coating the surface evenly. Once the pan was hot, he poured in the egg mixture. The egg spread out, covering the bottom of the pan in a smooth, golden layer. He waited for a moment, letting the egg set slightly before adding the vegetables and pemmican. The colors of the vegetables¡ªgreen, red, and white¡ªcontrasted beautifully against the yellow of the egg.


    With a deft hand, he used a wooden spatula to gently fold the omelet in half, enclosing the filling within. The edges of the omelet turned a delicate brown, a sign that it was perfectly cooked. The aroma of the spices, vegetables, and meat mingled in the air, creating a mouthwatering scent that filled the hut.


    Pacificus cooked the omelet until it was golden and slightly crispy on the outside, yet soft and fluffy on the inside. He then slid the omelet onto a plate, its perfect half-moon shape a testament to his skill and care.


    He garnished the dish with a few sprigs of fresh herbs from his garden, adding a touch of color and freshness. The final result was a hearty, nutritious omelet, filled with vibrant vegetables and smoky pemmican, seasoned to perfection with salt and spices.


    "Here you go, young lady," Pacificus said, placing the food in a wooden bowl. Due to Pacificus''s size, the bowl was enormous, and so were its contents.


    Young Artemis looked at the bowl, her eyes wide open. Her mouth watered at the sight, but then she quickly shook her head. "Mr. Pacificus, is it okay to eat this much?" She felt embarrassed eating someone else''s food.


    "Of course," Pacificus replied, a reassuring smile on his face. "You will need it, young lady. Trust me."


    With a bright smile, Artemis began to eat her meal. She savored each bite, the delicious blend of flavors making her feel both nourished and content.


    After finishing her meal, Artemis took a seat on Pacificus''s porch. The morning sun cast a warm glow over the landscape, and she felt a sense of peace as she watched Pacificus move about.


    "Don''t move yet, Lady Artemis," Pacificus instructed gently. "Take an hour or two to rest. It will be most unhealthy if you strain your body after a heavy meal."


    "Okay," she replied, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. She watched as Pacificus set up various equipment around the yard. There were bars and many obstacles that he was meticulously arranging. His movements were deliberate and efficient, showing the care he put into everything he did.


    After setting up the training area, Pacificus tended to his farm. He checked the health of his crops, watered the plants, and ensured everything was in order. Artemis observed him with curiosity and admiration, noting how diligently he worked.


    After about an hour, Pacificus approached her and began his instructions. "First things first, young lady. Before you run or do any kind of exercise, you need to do some stretches."


    He demonstrated the stretches, his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring that she could follow along. He extended his arms and legs, twisted his torso, and bent down to touch his toes, all while explaining the importance of each movement.


    "Stretching helps to prepare your muscles for exercise," Pacificus explained. "It increases your flexibility, reduces the risk of injury, and improves your overall performance... at least that is what my mom taught me."


    Artemis mimicked his movements, stretching her small limbs as best as she could. She felt the gentle pull in her muscles.


    Pacificus continued to guide her through a series of stretches, each one targeting different muscle groups. He was patient and encouraging, offering gentle corrections to ensure she was doing each stretch correctly.


    Once they had finished the stretches, Pacificus smiled at her. "Now that you''re properly warmed up, we can begin the training. Remember, young lady, exercise is not just about physical strength. It''s about discipline, control, and understanding your own body."


    <hr>


    A few hours later.


    Artemis lay on the ground, her breathing heavy and her body aching from the strenuous exercise. Every muscle felt strained and sore.


    She tried to recall how she ended up in such a state. It had started with running, jumping over obstacles, and crawling through narrow spaces. It had felt fun, almost like a game, and she followed Pacificus''s instructions eagerly, doing lap after lap around the course. But soon exhaustion set in. Her legs began to hurt, then her sides, and finally, her arms gave out, leaving her on her knees.


    Pacificus, ever the patient teacher, had stopped her before she could push herself too far. "Take a walk for a few minutes," he advised gently. "Then rest."


    Artemis tried to drink some water from the barrel, but her arms were so tired that she couldn''t lift the ladle. Instead, she lowered her head into the barrel, letting the cool water refresh her directly. Exhausted and sore, she eventually sank down to the ground.


    "That''s right, if you feel tired, rest," Pacificus encouraged gently, kneeling beside her. "Remember, young lady, you''re here to exercise, not to break your body. It''s important to push yourself to your limits, but it''s also important to know your limits. That''s where discipline comes in."


    Too fatigued to respond verbally, Artemis simply nodded weakly, absorbing his words.


    Taking a seat, she glanced at the obstacle course with a mixture of frustration and determination. Was she really this weak? The thought gnawed at her. How could she ever become a hunter if she couldn''t even handle this? Memories of the cockatrice flashed in her mind, reminding her of her vulnerability.


    Frustration turned to anger, and then to a steely determination. She clenched her fists, vowing silently to herself that she would become stronger. With a burst of resolve, she attempted to stand and run again, only to trip and fall flat on her face, letting out a surprised yelp.


    Pacificus chuckled warmly, reaching out to help her back to her feet. "Don''t worry," he reassured her. "It gets easier, I promise.... The hard part is doing this every day.... but it does get easier."

 Chapter 5: Barometz Sandwich

    There were many times when young Artemis wanted to give up. It wasn''t just her body that ached; her mind felt exhausted too. The relentless sprinting through the obstacle course, the constant pull-ups, and the soreness and pain in her muscles wore her down with every exercise. But a part of her deeply desired to get stronger. The image of Pacificus parrying a cockatrice to its death remained vivid in her mind. She longed for that strength and confidence. She wanted it badly, but Pacificus''s rigorous training regime reminded her daily that it wouldn''t be easy. Her muscles were pushed to their limits, her body exhausted every day, but she knew she had to earn it.


    As she dangled from a pole, trying to pull herself up, her body weight worked against her. Her muscles screamed in agony, and even her mind began having second thoughts. "I can do it," she whispered to herself, then roared, "I CAN DO IT!" With a surge of determination, she lifted herself up.


    "Ten more," she said, her voice resolute. "TEN MORE!" She knew that achieving ten more pull-ups would mean she had gotten stronger, even if just a bit.


    As she attempted another pull-up, her sweat-filled grip slipped. She yelped and fell onto a soft but itchy stack of hay.


    "Oh," said Pacificus, observing her fall. "You broke your record by one."


    Artemis didn''t celebrate outwardly; her arms ached too much. But deep inside, she was glad, knowing she had gotten stronger, even if just a bit. She lay on the hay, feeling a mix of exhaustion and quiet pride.


    The roughness of the hay scratched against her skin, but she didn''t mind. Each ache and bruise was a testament to her determination and progress. She looked up at the sky, the blue expanse framed by the leaves of the towering trees surrounding Pacificus''s hut. The scent of earth and grass filled her lungs, grounding her in the moment.


    Artemis had been training at Pacificus''s farm for a month now. She had gained a bit of confidence in herself, but there was still something bothering her.


    "Mr. Pacificus," she asked one day, a hint of frustration in her voice, "when will I train how to hunt? The only thing I''ve been doing is running."


    "That would be later, young lady," Pacificus replied calmly.


    "But why only running, jumping, and climbing? I already have those skills thanks to your training."


    "That is simple, young Artemis. Tell me, what do you do when you encounter an enemy that is stronger than you?"


    "You stand your ground," she answered, her voice firm.


    "No, young Artemis. You run away. That is the proper way to face a foe that is stronger than you."


    "What? But why?" she asked, her eyes widening in disbelief.


    "You run and live another day. Get stronger so one day you will not have to run away again."


    Her eyes widened further as realization dawned on her. "Ah, I see," she replied thoughtfully.


    She went on her knees and closed her palms, making her own prayer. It was a habit she had developed while watching Pacificus. She prayed to the forgotten gods, her prayers audible only to herself. This way, she could both clear her mind and rest at the same time.


    Pacificus didn''t really know where she got the habit, but he allowed it nonetheless, thinking it was the best way for her to rest.


    After praying, she would start exercising again. Each day she pushed herself harder, knowing that every step, every run, every climb was bringing her closer to her goal.


    Her day of training would end with Pacificus''s cart as the giant took her back home. Her body ached all over, but there was a sense of fulfillment in her exhaustion.


    <hr>


    Merina awoke in the wooden building that served as their home and orphanage, greeted by the comforting aroma of stew simmering in the cauldron. She knew who had prepared the meal¡ªyoung Artemis, a girl the orphanage had adopted. Artemis had a predictable routine. She would rise before the sun, ensure breakfast was ready for her family, and then set off towards the dwelling of the young giant, Pacificus. Every evening, she returned exhausted, usually transported by Pacificus''s cart.


    Occasionally, Artemis would voice her frustrations about the training, lamenting that she only ran and exercised and expressing her desire to wield a weapon. Other times, she brought back sacks of fresh vegetables and food, proudly announcing that they were rewards for helping Pacificus on his farm.


    Day by day, Merina noticed changes in Artemis. The girl had gained both weight and muscle. She had also developed some peculiar habits. She trained with Pacificus for seven days, resting on the eighth¡ªthough her idea of rest involved cleaning toilets by digging holes near saplings and depositing the waste there. She ran around the town, practiced pull-ups on tree branches, and prayed to a sapling she had brought home, treating it with the utmost care. She even carried buckets of water from a distant well to nourish her beloved sapling.


    Artemis had become industrious and incredibly strong. She finished her chores faster than the other children and was the fastest runner among them. Her strength was evident in the way she helped rebuild the orphanage, although her older brothers ensured she stayed away from the tree-cutting near the Ever Resting Forest, a dangerous area with tales of mysterious disappearances.


    Nonetheless, Artemis found ways to contribute. She pulled wagons loaded with lumber, chopped wood with her older siblings, and lifted heavy beams. The orphanage''s reconstruction owed much to her newfound strength and determination.


    One day, young Apollo approached Merina with a request she had been anticipating. "Mom, can I train with Mr. Pacificus too?"


    She sighed, then smiled warmly. "Of course, Apollo."


    <hr>


    The next day, two children appeared at Pacificus''s farm. Artemis stood beside her brother, Apollo, who looked determined yet slightly apprehensive.


    "What brings you here, Lord Apollo?" Pacificus asked, towering over the small boy.


    "I want to train. Can I train too?"


    "Of course... have you taken breakfast?"


    "Yes," Apollo replied quickly, though Pacificus raised an eyebrow in doubt.


    "Let''s have breakfast first before we start training, Lord Apollo."


    After a hearty breakfast of harpy eggs and vegetable stew, Apollo and Artemis sat on Pacificus''s porch. Apollo felt a mix of embarrassment and shame for enjoying food that wasn''t his own.


    "Why do you want to train, Lord Apollo?" Pacificus asked the boy gently.


    "I... I want that," Apollo stammered, pointing at Pacificus.


    "Pardon?" Pacificus said, puzzled.


    "I want to have that," Apollo repeated, pointing more emphatically.


    Pacificus looked down at his own body, trying to understand where Apollo was pointing. Finally, Apollo pointed at his sister''s arm, where new muscles had begun to show.


    "Oh, you mean muscle," Pacificus said, finally understanding.


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    "Yes," Apollo admitted, his face turning red with embarrassment.


    A memory flashed in Pacificus''s mind. He recalled a scene from his youth, watching his parents interact. His father, a robust man with strong arms, had admired his mother''s biceps, rubbing his chin as he said, "I want that. They are so big and hard."


    His mother, flexing her impressive muscles with a giggle, had replied, "You have pretty big biceps yourself, my love."


    "But yours are bigger and more beautiful," his father had insisted, admiration clear in his voice.


    Pacificus then thought of the harpies he had encountered in the forest. Among them, the males were more colorful, often performing elaborate dances with their feathers to attract lifelong partners. Similarly, the Great Apes would flex their muscles to impress the females.


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    Isn''t young Apollo way too young to be thinking of those things? Pacificus pondered. Then again, if it helps the young man''s self-esteem, he would gladly support him in his quest for self-confidence.


    "All right, Lord Apollo. But be informed the training will be hard."


    "Yes," Apollo replied, his determination unwavering.


    "It will require discipline and facing hardships."


    "Arty told me that too."


    "Good... We will begin after an hour."


    A few hours later, young Apollo found himself sprawled on the ground, his breath heavy, his entire body screaming in pain. He wondered how it had happened. He had been enjoying the run at first, but then his legs suddenly ached. His side started to hurt, making it harder for him to continue. His arms grew weak, and before he knew it, he was on his knees.


    "Don''t do that, Lord Apollo," Pacificus advised, his voice calm and steady. "Walk, then rest. No need to break your body."


    Artemis, having finished her own run, smiled at her little brother. "Hard, isn''t it?" she grinned as she passed Apollo, a mix of pride and sympathy in her eyes.


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    A part of Apollo felt frustrated at the grin on his sister''s face, as if she was taunting him with her muscles. He felt frustrated, angry, and jealous. If she can do it, so can I, he thought to himself as he pushed his body to the limit. However, his determination led to him slipping and falling to his face with a yelp.


    "Are you all right, Lord Apollo?" Pacificus asked, concern in his voice.


    "Y-yes," Apollo replied, trying to mask his embarrassment.


    "Rest, then do it again, Lord Apollo," Pacificus instructed gently. "Don''t worry, everybody falls. What matters is you always get back up. Even Lady Artemis fell like that t-."


    "NO, I DIDN''T!" Artemis interjected, her cheeks flushing red.


    <hr>


    Another month passed.


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    Merina would wake up to find two children missing from her home. However, she did not panic, knowing exactly where the children had gone. Every evening, the two children would return home on Pacificus''s cart, both exhausted yet always having room for supper.


    At the dinner table, the two children would argue and bicker with each other.


    "Mine is bigger!" Apollo would declare.


    "Nuh-uh, mine is bigger, and I can run faster," Artemis would counter.


    "Well I started later than you. That makes me faster."


    "No, it doesn''t!"


    "Yes, it does!"


    The two would show their muscles at the dinner table to everyone''s amusement. It seemed that the siblings had developed a healthy rivalry.


    Not only had they become competitive, but they also shared the same habits. Both would wake up early and complete their chores so quickly that they had time to help with the chores of others. Even Merina was left with time for her hobby, tailoring new clothes¡ªsomething she appreciated as she didn''t want the children to be dressed in rags, especially now.


    The two would pray in front of a sapling, and they even started planting potatoes in their backyard. They often raced through the town, coming back tired but with a fire in their eyes. They did all this once every eight days when they weren''t training with Pacificus.


    Merina and the others didn''t mind, for they could see that the two children were not only becoming more muscular but also healthier and stronger.


    Then, the inevitable happened.


    Merina smiled at the children in front of her, who had pleading eyes. "All of you can ask Pacificus tomorrow."


    <hr>


    As they approached Pacificus''s home, the early morning air carried a crisp chill, tinged with the scent of dew-dampened earth. Merina led the way, her steps deliberate yet light, flanked by twelve eager children from the orphanage. Two of them, Apollo and Artemis, walked ahead confidently, their muscular frames a testament to their recent training with Pacificus.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Apollo, taking on a protective tone, whispered to his siblings, "Don''t disturb Big Brother Pacificus when he''s praying, okay? He wakes up really early and starts his prayers, and that''s why he''s so strong." The other children nodded in agreement, their faces a mix of curiosity and admiration.


    As they walked towards Pacificus''s hut, a small, unnatural breeze swept through the air, gently caressing their bodies. Artemis whispered to Merina, barely audible over the distant sounds of Pacificus swinging his wooden sword, "We''re close. That''s Big Brother Pacificus practicing with his wooden sword."


    Merina nodded, her eyes following Artemis''s indication. She felt a shift in the atmosphere as they approached, the wind intensifying with each powerful swing of Pacificus''s sword. Each motion echoed with a resounding crack, accompanied by gusts of wind that brushed against their faces, adding a sense of energy and anticipation to the quiet morning.


    Merina''s eyes widened as she watched Pacificus practice. Though she disliked violence, she found herself captivated by the grace and precision of his movements. The large wooden sword seemed to dance effortlessly in his hands, its swings controlled yet swift, creating a blur of motion that mesmerized her. Despite the speed, Pacificus''s focus was deep and unwavering, lending a sacred air to his practice.


    After concluding his sword practice, the towering figure of Pacificus gently placed the sword aside and turned to two nearby trees. Merina noticed them for the first time, their branches stretching upwards with leaves that were beginning to turn yellow and fall.


    Merina whispered to herself, recognizing the scene before her. "Ah, so this is where the two got that habit." She observed Pacificus as he began to pray, his actions so reverent and personal that she felt it would be disrespectful to interrupt.


    The moment held a quiet solemnity, punctuated only by the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional distant call of a bird. Merina and the children stood respectfully at a distance, watching in silence as Pacificus completed his prayers, his presence seeming to harmonize with the natural surroundings.


    After finishing his prayer, Pacificus turned to see Merina standing there. "Oh... L-l-l-l-Lady Merina..Wh...What brings you here?" he asked, his face red in blush.


    Merina smiled warmly, a smile that made Pacificus blush even more. "I''m just here to ask you something, Mr. Pacificus," she replied.


    Pacificus glanced at the children gathered behind her. "Then.... then please, come inside," he said, motioning them toward his home. "Have you had your breakfast?"


    "Of course," Merina answered.


    "Uhm ahh...Wa... Walking here must have made all of you tired. Please...Please, come inside my home. The weather is getting cold."


    Twelve children filed into Pacificus''s small home. It was modest, containing only a bed, a fireplace that doubled as a cooking station, and a kitchen with a massive sword displayed on the wall. That seemed to be everything Pacificus owned, or so it appeared.


    Pacificus noticed the number of people and decided to make breakfast. "Please wait here," he said as he opened an underground door hidden near his bed. The door surprised everyone except Apollo and Artemis.


    He returned with some vegetables, bread, and meat. "Wait a minute," said Artemis, her eyes widening. "Is that the barometz meat?"


    Pacificus nodded, looking at his guests. "Yes, it is. I thought it would be nice to share it with everyone today."


    Pacificus realized he didn''t have enough wooden plates for everyone, so he decided to make sandwiches instead. He gathered the vegetables, barometz meat, and soft bread, and began preparing the meal with the same meticulous care he put into everything he did.


    First, he laid out the fresh vegetables: crisp lettuce, ripe tomatoes, and crunchy cucumbers. He washed them thoroughly, the cold water running over his hands, then set them aside to dry on a clean cloth. The vibrant colors of the vegetables added a touch of brightness to the rustic kitchen.


    Next, he turned his attention to the meat. The barometz, a plant native to the Ever Resting Forest, was a peculiar plant that usually has sheep as fruits. Pacificus sliced the meat into thin, even pieces, the sharp knife gliding effortlessly through the tender cuts. He then seasoned the slices with a pinch of salt and a few fragrant herbs from his garden.


    He heated a large frying pan over the open fire, the flames crackling and sending a warm glow through the room. Once the frying was hot, he added a small amount of oil and carefully placed the meat slices in the pan. The meat sizzled as it hit the hot surface, filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma. He cooked the meat to perfection, ensuring it was juicy and flavorful, then set it aside to rest.


    While the meat was resting, Pacificus turned to the bread. He had baked the large soft, hearty loaves himself, their golden crusts a testament to his skill with the oven. He sliced the loaves into thick pieces, the knife crunching through the crust and revealing the soft, fluffy interior.


    With all the ingredients ready, he began assembling the sandwiches. He took a large slice of bread and layered it with crisp lettuce, a few slices of juicy tomato, and the perfectly cooked barometz meat. He added thin slices of cucumber for a refreshing crunch, and finished with another slice of bread. Each sandwich was a large work of art, balanced and packed with flavors.


    Pacificus wrapped each sandwich in a clean cloth, making them easy to hold and eat without plates. He handed them out to the children, who eagerly accepted the delicious parcels.


    Merina watched as Pacificus worked, admiring the care and attention he put into each sandwich. Despite the simplicity of the meal, it was clear that he had poured his heart into it, ensuring that everyone would be well-fed and happy.


    The children took their first bites, and a chorus of satisfied murmurs filled the room. The sandwiches were a hit, the flavors melding together perfectly. Even Merina, who had eaten breakfast already, couldn''t resist tasting a bite. The combination of fresh vegetables, tender meat, and soft bread was simply irresistible.


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    Merina admired Pacificus that day. He was usually an awkward, shy man who could barely hold a conversation with anyone. He always seemed so distant and aloof. But now, she saw another side of him. She had watched him practice his swordsmanship with a dedication and precision that bordered on artistry. His prayers to his god were filled with a quiet reverence that spoke of deep faith and humility.


    His lifestyle was as simple as his home, and yet he went out of his way to feed a stranger and her children with such care and hospitality. There was a warmth and generosity in his actions that transcended his usual reticence.


    Merina understood now why Artemis and Apollo admired him so much. He wasn''t just a strong warrior or a skilled farmer; he was a man of integrity and kindness, someone who lived by his principles and extended his compassion to others without hesitation.


    As they all shared the meal he had prepared, Merina felt a profound gratitude. She saw how Pacificus, with his simple yet profound gestures, had made a significant impact on her children.


    "Mr. Pacificus," said Merina softly.


    "Y-yes,"


    "Thank you... for taking care of Apollo and Artemis. I really appreciate it. Also, I''m sorry for bothering you with this request, but can you please train my other kids as well?"


    "I... I don''t mind," Pacificus replied, though his voice wavered slightly.


    "Re-really? You... you would be very busy. That is a lot of work, Mr. Pacificus."


    "I don''t mind," he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.


    "Surely, Mr. Pacificus, you must mind it. There are twelve children. These twelve children are all precious and feeble balls of energy that can''t be contained."


    "That... that is one way to describe children, Lady Merina," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.


    "Taking care of children would interfere with your work on the farm, Mr. Pacificus."


    "I... I don''t think it would interfere that much, Lady Merina. Apollo and Artemis have been very disciplined."


    "The same thing can''t be said for the others, Mr. Pacificus. Furthermore, I never even repaid you for the things you''ve done for us."


    "Lady Merina, there is no need."


    "No, Mr. Pacificus, there is a need. I won''t be a burden to you. That is why I will be your farmhand whenever you train the children."


    Realization hit Pacificus like a bolt of lightning. Merina would be staying while the children trained. The simple fact that Merina would be in his abode filled him with embarrassment and dread. What if he embarrassed himself in front of her? What if he did something wrong that she wouldn''t like? What if he accidentally harmed her without knowing? All of these ''what ifs'' made him nervous. How could he say no without insulting her, he wondered.


    "So please, Mr. Pacificus, let me repay your generosity."


    "O...okay," he answered, pausing as he dreaded his answer. Why didn''t he say no? He needed to fix his mistake. But before he could say anything, his heart was frozen by Merina''s warm smile.


    "Thank you, Pacificus," she said with a grateful expression.


    How was he supposed to say no to that?


    Thus, Pacificus found himself with a brand new farmhand... well, a temporary farmhand.


    A few hours later, the children''s training session had taken its toll. One by one, they fell to their knees, their breaths heavy as they struggled to catch their breath.


    "It hurts," one of them groaned, clutching his legs. "My arms, my legs... it hurts."


    "Why is it so hot?" another panted, wiping sweat from her forehead.


    "I''m so... tired," a third one moaned, slumping onto the ground.


    Meanwhile, Apollo and Artemis stood nearby, grinning at their siblings'' plight. The other kids, frustrated and annoyed, glared back at them.


    "If you''re tired, then rest," said Pacificus, his voice calm and steady. "But walk a bit first before you take a seat."


    "Do they do this every day?" ask the smallest child, looking up at Pacificus as he rests on the ground exhausted.


    "Yes, Lord Minos. Young Artemis and Apollo have been running like this every day. But don''t worry, at the start, they too fell like you," Pacificus reassured him.


    "NO, I DIDN''T!" Artemis protested, her face turning red.


    Pacificus chuckled softly. "Yes, yes, of course. But remember, everyone starts as a beginner. You have to crawl before you learn how to walk, and you have to walk before you learn how to run. Also, it is important to learn the limits of your bodies. You are here to get stronger, not break your bodies."


    The exhausted children simply nodded, absorbing his words.


    "Be patient and strong, young ones. You''ll get stronger someday... all of you."


    While some of the children were resting, Merina helped them by giving them water. "Aren''t you cold?" she asked.


    "No," a child replied. "I think I''m too tired to feel the cold."


    After that, she tended to the farm, watering the plants and checking on the vegetables.


    Pacificus took a deep breath and summoned his courage. "L...Lady Merina... can I ask you something?" he asked as he watched her tend to the farm. She was mostly looking after the potatoes.


    "Ask me anything, Mr. Pacificus," she replied with a smile.


    "Wh-who taught you how to tend to a farm?"


    "Oh... My mother was a farmer, and my father was a hunter." She smiled fondly at the memory. "Mother had a farm like this too when I was young... although your crops are more... unique." She glanced at the mandrakes. "Mr. Pacificus, aren''t these things dangerous?"


    "The mandrakes?"


    "Yes."


    "Well... they make for a good meal and medicine. Although, I usually chop the head off first before I pull it."


    "And those, Mr. Pacificus... aren''t those maneaters?" She pointed at the plants with flowers that looked like giant vases.


    "Oh, you mean those things. They are useful for making spices and keeping the wild beasts away."


    "My mother would never even try farming those things... why are they so docile? Did you manage to tame them, perhaps?"


    "Oh... it''s my skill... Domestication. They turn into a completely different species when I use this skill. Although I actually can''t use that plot of land to rotate the crops."


    "My mother has that skill too... but she usually uses it on wild boars and cows. Now that I mention it... where are your livestock, Mr. Pacificus?"


    "I don''t have any... I don''t have what it takes to... to kill an animal that I raised."


    Seeing a giant act rather naively made her giggle. "Oh, forgive me, Mr. Pacificus," she said, trying to calm herself. "I''ve been asking too many questions."


    "No, no, no... you are not... Uhm, just out of curiosity... what did you choose for your class?"


    "Oh, me?" she smiled. "I chose the tailor class."


    "A tailor... I never met anyone with that class besides merchants and nobles."


    She chuckled. "Well, not everyone can afford good pieces of fabric... I mostly chose that blessing to help my mother with her sheep, turning wool into cloth and turning hide into leather, or simply turning my father''s prey into a fur cloth."


    "That is a lot of work."


    She giggled. "It gets easier with skills... although... I don''t really get that much practice these days."


    Pacificus paused, then said, "Well, I actually have some wool if you want?"


    "What? Mr. Pacificus, those things are expensive."


    "Actually... I... I don''t know what to do with them."


    Pacificus took Merina into a shack where he stored all of his hides and fur. Merina looked at the abundant number of hides and fur in awe.


    Then Pacificus showed her a huge barrel full of wool.


    "How did you get all of this wool, Mr. Pacificus?"


    "It''s Barometz wool."


    "Artemis and Apollo told me about the Barometz... I didn''t see it."


    "It''s because we just harvested them. Barometz meat is good, but it also attracts other monsters and beasts. That''s why we have to harvest it quickly."


    "I see... what are you planning to do with this wool, Mr. Pacificus?"


    "I actually wanted to sell it... but no one wants to buy it."


    "That''s because it has to be turned into cloth first. Do you have any tools, Mr. Pacificus?"


    "Well, my grandfather has a spindle... but it hasn''t been used for long."


    "That is fine, Mr. Pacificus. We also need to wash the wool and brush it to separate the fibers."


    "Shall I take it outside, Lady Merina?"


    "That would be helpful."


    On a farm located near the Ever Resting Forest and a River, children were running over obstacles, exercising with vigor and enthusiasm. The scene was lively and filled with the sounds of youthful energy. Nearby, two adults, one a giant two meters tall and a woman with short hair dressed in rags, were cleaning wool outside as the children played.


    Pacificus was amazed by how fast and naturally Merina moved. She handled the wool with an expertise that left him in awe. It was a huge batch of wool, and yet, she finished cleaning it in an hour.


    "I thought cleaning that wool would take days," Pacificus remarked, his voice tinged with surprise.


    "Oh, it''s my skill, Mr. Pacificus," she replied with a warm smile. "It''s been so long since I did this... it actually brings me back."


    Next, Merina began brushing the wool, separating the fibers with precision and care. After another hour or two, the wool looked completely different. It was not only cleaner but also much softer.


    Pacificus watched Merina, her focus and dedication captivating him. He didn''t want to interrupt her concentration, so he turned his attention to the children, ensuring they were progressing well in their training.


    When Merina moved on to the spindle, Pacificus watched with fascination. It was the first time he had seen his grandfather''s spindle in use. His father had told him stories about his grandfather being a man of many habits but also a complete coward. His grandmother, on the other hand, was the one who did all the hunting and fighting, wielding a pickaxe as her main weapon.


    Merina''s eyes were intensely focused on the yarn being formed by the spindle, and her hands moved with a blur of production. Pacificus thought back to the praises his students gave him, saying his sword strikes were so fast they were a blur. He always felt ashamed of those compliments because his strikes were actually parries. But Merina had no reason to be ashamed. Her skills were her own, the result of her hard work, and it showed.


    "Beautiful," he whispered to himself in awe. "She is so beautiful."


    He felt a warmth in his chest as he watched her, a feeling of admiration and something more. It wasn''t just her physical appearance that captivated him, but the way she carried herself, her dedication, and her skill. She was a true master of her craft, and in that moment, Pacificus couldn''t help but feel a deep respect and affection for her.


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    Two kids, Artemis and Apollo, heard his whisper and exchanged a knowing look.


    "What if we turn Big Brother Pacificus into our father?" Apollo whispered, eyes wide with excitement.


    "That is a good idea," Artemis answered, nodding thoughtfully. "That way I wouldn''t feel ashamed of eating his meals."


    "I agree, I agree, I agree... but how do we marry them?" Apollo questioned, a furrow forming on his brow.


    "I don''t know," Artemis admitted, glancing at the stricken Pacificus, who was still watching Merina with admiration.


    "Yeah, this won''t be easy," Apollo sighed, crossing his arms.


    As they whispered and plotted, the scene around them continued with its usual hustle and bustle. Merina remained engrossed in her work, her hands skillfully turning the wool into yarn, oblivious to the children''s scheming. Pacificus, meanwhile, tried to focus on the children¡¯s training but couldn''t help glancing back at Merina.


    The two children huddled closer, determined to find a way to bring their plan to fruition. They observed Pacificus and Merina, looking for any sign, any opportunity to push them closer together. They knew it would take more than just a simple idea; it would require careful planning and perhaps a bit of luck.

 Chapter 6: A Step Closer

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    "Is it heavy?" Merina asked, glancing at the cart.


    "At first it was... but I got used to it," Pacificus answered, his voice calm and steady.


    "You got used to it?"


    "Yes... I consider it part of my training. When I was young, it was my mother who would pull the cart. She was strong."


    "Oh," Merina replied, a hint of admiration in her tone.


    She looked at the sleeping children in the cart, their peaceful faces a stark contrast to the day¡¯s exertions. "Aren''t you tired? There''s still room in the cart."


    "Don''t mind me, Mr. Pacificus," she said with a soft smile.


    "What is your blessing specifically, Mr. Pacificus?" she asked after a moment of silence.


    "Pardon?"


    "I saw you swing your sword... it was fast and controlled, almost sacred."


    Pacificus blushed, his face turning a shade of red. "You are like a sword saint, Mr. Pacificus."


    "I am not a swordsman... nor am I a warrior. My mother is a warrior... but like my father before me, I chose the path of agriculture."


    "But the way you hold the sword... it looked more beautiful than any swordsman I''ve seen," she blushed in return.


    "That''s because of my mother... she taught me how to wield a sword... although I only have one combat skill."


    "One?" she blinked in surprise.


    "Yes... it is a skill called ''parry.''"


    She blinked again. "Mr. Pacificus... I have more combat skills than you."


    Pacificus looked away in embarrassment. "How could that be? I have a skill called throw, slash, chop, and stab but the voice of creation tells me it is just a basic skill... anyone can learn it."


    "I... I used to have those skills... but they disappeared."


    "... Huh? That can''t be... when was the last time you visited a monk or a priest, Mr. Pacificus?"


    He laughed weakly. "Actually... my blessing is called Farmer Monk."


    She blinked. "Huh? How?"


    "The gods told me it''s because I was the only one worshipping my deities."


    Her face paled. "Mr. Pacificus... when was the last time you checked on your gifts?"


    "My father was a Farmer Monk like me... when he died, I inherited his blessing, and that was the last time I was informed about my gifts."


    "Did you at least try to visit the Temple of the deities?"


    "I... I was planning to... but... I don''t want to disturb them."


    Unseen by the two mortals, two deities chuckled at their blessed champion.


    "You need to go there, Mr. Pacificus."


    "But the journey there would take months."


    "That is how far it is?"


    "Yes... that''s why I never left... the farm. No one will maintain it while I¡¯m gone."


    "Oh... that... that is really unfortunate."


    "I don''t mind... I may not have received the full potential of my gifts... but I have enough resources to live... too many resources, to be honest... I''m a really lucky person I guess."


    The sun had almost disappeared below the horizon as Pacificus and Merina approached the gates. The guards, familiar with their routine, gave a casual nod, though the gate was more symbolic than functional, given the broken wall beside it.


    "Wait a minute? Aren''t there too many children in his cart today?" one guard remarked.


    "Shut up... It''s none of your business. Besides, he feeds our families anyway, so I don''t mind what he does," another guard responded.


    "It doesn''t look like he is harming the children... So what does he do with them?"


    "Probably hired as farmhands or something."


    "Oh... that makes sense."


    They reached the orphanage, and the children, exhausted, were gently carried to their beds by Pacificus and Merina. Once the last child was tucked in, Merina turned to Pacificus.


    "Thank you, Pacificus."


    "I''m happy to help, Lady Merina."


    "I''ll see you tomorrow then."


    "Yes."


    As Pacificus left the orphanage, Merina made her way to a small altar. It was simple, just a torch with an image of a woman carved into its handle. She lit the flame and knelt before it, her hands clasped in prayer. She poured her heart out, praying for her family, for her children, and for Pacificus. The thought of the gentle giant made her heart race, and she found herself blushing.


    "Wait a minute," she murmured to herself, "Aren''t I too old to feel like this?" Her cheeks flushed with warmth, a mix of confusion and newfound emotions swirling within her.


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    The next day dawned with a sense of purpose. Merina was busily turning more wool into yarn, her hands deftly working the spindle as the children ran through the obstacle course Pacificus had set up. The sun was high in the sky, its glow gently shaded by the clouds as it tried to light Pacificus''s farm. He noticed that some of his plants were turning yellow, their leaves starting to fall.


    He pondered for a moment, then his gaze turned to Artemis, his oldest and most dedicated student. "Hmm... perhaps it''s time," he murmured to himself.


    Pacificus went to his armory¡ªa modest collection of weapons and armor from would-be invaders who had underestimated him. He looked over the various weapons, remembering how his mother had taught him to use them all. A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled those precious memories. He decided it was time to teach the children something new.


    Grabbing three bows of different sizes, he began tying the strings back to the bows. The wooden limbs creaked slightly as he bent them, the strings taut and ready. He knew he didn''t have any specific skills that benefited from using a sling or a bow, but his mother had taught him well enough that he could pass on the basics.


    "Artemis," he called out.


    "Yes, Big Brother?" Artemis ran towards him, her eyes immediately drawn to the bows in his hands.


    "It''s time," Pacificus said, holding out one of the bows.


    Artemis stared at him for a moment, then her eyes widened in realization. A wide smile spread across her face, her excitement palpable. She reached out and took the bow from Pacificus, her fingers brushing against the smooth wood, tracing the grain and feeling its weight.


    A few minutes later.


    Artemis frowned as she tried to pull the bow with all her strength. Her fingers tightened on the bow and its string as she struggled to draw it back.


    "Artemis, I told you to use all of your body, including your back... like this," Pacificus instructed, demonstrating the proper form.


    "I''m... I''m trying," she replied, her voice strained with effort.


    "Hmmm... perhaps it was too early," Pacificus began to say.


    "NO, IT''S NOT!" she exclaimed, her determination unwavering as she continued to try her best to pull the string.


    Despite her efforts, it wasn''t meant to be. She eventually sat down, her arms tired and sore. Disappointment clouded her eyes, and she tried her best not to cry, feeling the weight of her inability to pull the smallest bow.


    "Hmm... wait here, Artemis," Pacificus said gently.


    He went back to his armory and returned with more bows of varying sizes. Artemis tried to pull each one, realizing that drawing a bow was not as easy as she had thought. She had believed she was strong, had confidence in her strength, but the bows seemed to crush her newfound confidence. Her frustration grew with each failed attempt.


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    In the end, she didn''t manage to pull a single bow.


    Artemis fell to her knees, her frustration and disappointment finally overwhelming her. Tears she could no longer hold back streamed down her face.


    "You can always try again, Artemis," Pacificus said softly, handing her a small bow.


    Artemis took the bow and tried once more, her determination unwavering despite her exhaustion.


    By dinner time, a crestfallen Artemis sat with Merina, her arms shaking so much that she couldn''t even lift her rice cake.


    "Artemis," Pacificus said gently, "you are here to get stronger, not to break your body. Remember, everyone starts as a beginner. It doesn''t matter if you fail; what matters is that you try again until you succeed."


    Artemis simply nodded, trying to wipe away her tears, but her arms hurt too much. Merina had to wipe her tears for her, a kind act that unintentionally wounded Artemis''s pride even more.


    The next day dawned with renewed determination. Artemis stood in the training area, bow in hand, trying again and again to pull the string back. Despite her best efforts, she couldn''t pull it far enough to reach her shoulder. Her arms went numb from the strain.


    "Rest first, Artemis," Pacificus advised gently. "Perhaps the reason you can''t pull it is because your body is too strained."


    "...O-okay," she replied, her voice tinged with exhaustion.


    She knelt between the two trees and began to pray, seeking solace and strength. The sounds of her siblings running and complaining about their sore bodies filled the air, reminding her of her own struggles. She remembered how she had started running and doing pull-ups, feeling the same pain and frustration. But now, she barely broke a sweat and always aimed to beat her previous records with confidence.


    Just like Pacificus had said, everyone starts as a beginner. If she could break her record laps, she could draw that bow. Taking a deep breath, she acknowledged the pain in her arms and realized that she really did need to rest.


    The whole day ended with her praying and self-reflecting.


    The next day, Artemis approached the dreaded bow with renewed determination in her eyes. She took a deep breath and began to draw. Using all her strength, she pulled¡ªslowly, steadily. The bow was heavy, so heavy, but she kept pulling, her muscles straining, until finally, the string reached her shoulder.


    The simple act filled her with so much joy that she accidentally released the bow, making the string whistle.


    She smiled in triumph and laughed aloud. Though the draw was supposed to reach her ear to be considered worthy of an arrow, the fact that she had pulled the bow at all filled her with immense satisfaction and joy.


    Her next goal was clear: pull the bow as far as she could, then switch to a bigger bow, and then an even bigger bow¡ªuntil the day she could proudly draw a bow with an arrow.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


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    Then the golems became agitated.


    Pacificus noticed the golems suddenly moving faster, more erratically. It wasn''t just the golems; birds were flying away in the distance.


    "Merina," he called, his voice steady but urgent, "keep the children inside the basement."


    "Pacificus?" she replied, confusion and concern mixing in her voice.


    "Don''t leave until I tell you to," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.


    She looked at him, seeing a seriousness in his face that was almost terrifying. It was a side of Pacificus she rarely saw.


    "Children," she said quickly, "come with me. Quickly!"


    "Wha-what''s going on?" one of them asked, panic rising.


    "Get inside Pacificus''s basement," she instructed firmly.


    "What?" another protested. "But mom, it''s dark in there."


    "Just go inside, everyone," she urged, herding them towards the basement.


    As Merina closed the basement door, she saw Pacificus grab the huge sword that was mounted on his kitchen wall.


    "Pacificus," she called softly.


    The giant turned to her, his face a mix of worry and determination. It was a look she had seen many times before on the faces of those going to war. "Stay safe, Pacificus," she said, her voice trembling.


    Pacificus managed a reassuring smile. "I''ll return... I promise," he said, his tone resolute.


    As the basement door closed securely behind them, Pacificus ensured it was well-hidden from any intruders. And then, he stepped outside, his mother''s greatsword released from its scabbard, resting casually on his shoulder. He settled onto his porch, waiting calmly.


    Moments passed, and he heard the approach of boots, feeling the slight tremble of the ground with each step. Finally, they arrived¡ªmen clad in helmets and chainmail, armed with an assortment of weapons from shields and spears to bows. Their lack of uniformity suggested they weren''t a disciplined force, but their numbers and equipment made them formidable.


    "Greetings," Pacificus greeted them calmly. "What can I do for you?"


    "Are you Pacificus the farmer?" one of the men asked bluntly.


    "Yes," Pacificus replied evenly. "What do you need?"


    A chilling smile crept onto the man''s face. "We are here for you, farmer."


    "Who sent you?" Pacificus inquired, maintaining his composure despite the gravity of the situation. "Perhaps I can pay you to leave me alone."


    "No, farmer," the man chuckled darkly. "The noble demands your head, and I intend to claim it."


    "Why can''t we just talk?" Pacificus suggested, his tone unwavering, though his eyes grew serious.


    Laughter erupted from the men, followed by the ominous sound of weapons being drawn. Pacificus sighed inwardly, recognizing the futility of negotiation with these intruders.


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    As the tension mounted outside, Pacificus faced down the advancing intruders with a calm yet formidable presence. With a casual swing of his greatsword, a shockwave rippled through the air, causing the men to hesitate momentarily. Taking advantage of this, Pacificus raised his sword into a high stance, exuding an aura of readiness and intimidation.


    The intruders, armed with spears among other weapons, cautiously closed in. Some, emboldened by their numbers and weaponry, took the initiative to thrust their spears at Pacificus. Five spears aimed for him simultaneously, but Pacificus remained unfazed. With precise movements, he deflected each thrust, redirecting the force of their attacks back against them with his fist..


    In the basement, Merina and the children felt a faint tremor through the ground, prompting concern. They were still descending the staircase, marveling at the size of Pacificus''s basement.


    "I knew Big Brother had a big basement, but I didn''t expect it to be this enormous," remarked Apollo.


    "Didn''t he mention his grandfather was a dwarf?" Artemis added thoughtfully.


    Merina glanced uneasily at the stairway, her worry for Pacificus growing. Then, the ground shook, followed by another tremor, then another, it was stronger this time.


    "An earthquake?" Merina murmured to herself.


    On the farm''s grounds, the aftermath of Pacificus''s defense against the intruders was evident. Several men lay sprawled across the landscape, each bearing injuries from their encounter with the farmer. One man lay on his back, his face swollen from a powerful blow that had rendered him unconscious but still breathing. Another lay face-down in the dirt, likely knocked out by a forceful impact. A third man writhed in pain on the ground, clutching his groin, his screams echoing through the air. A fourth man hung unconscious on the fence, his helmet, that was near Pacificus, showing the unmistakable imprint of a fist-shaped bump.


    Lastly, atop Pacificus''s roof, a fifth man lay with white eyes, indicating he was also knocked out but breathing. His boots lay near Pacificus''s feet.


    The remaining soldiers, now significantly fewer in number and visibly shaken by the fate of their comrades, hesitated to press their attack. They gripped their shields tightly, but the sight of shattered remnants of their comrades'' shields strewn about did little to bolster their confidence. They exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to proceed against a farmer who had proven to be far more formidable than they had anticipated.


    "Can we talk now?" Pacificus asked, his calm demeanor contrasting sharply with the unconscious bodies littered around him.


    "Yeah, we can talk," replied another man, stepping forward. He unsheathed his weapon and laid it on the ground before removing his shield and helmet. As he walked towards Pacificus, his hands were raised in a gesture of surrender. "H-how much are you willing to pay us back, Sir Farmer?"


    "How much did they give you?" Pacificus inquired.


    "Five gold coins each. They said they would give us twenty more if we managed to bring them your head."


    "I don''t have any gold coins," Pacificus responded. "Just chests full of bronze coins and silver coins. Is that fine with you?"


    "Of course, of course, we''ll take it," the man said eagerly, approaching Pacificus with his hands still raised.


    "Stay right there," Pacificus warned. "I accidentally killed someone who tried to do what you''re about to attempt."


    The man sneered, and with a flick of his wrist, a hidden dagger appeared. He hurled it at Pacificus with such force that it created a sonic boom. Pacificus effortlessly redirected the dagger with his hand.


    The man didn''t waver and lunged at Pacificus with another dagger. Pacificus parried the strike with a swift motion of his hand and then delivered a powerful backhanded slap.


    To the perspective of the other men, their comrade simply vanished, leaving a dagger hanging in mid-air for a moment before it fell to the ground. The scene might have been humorous if it weren''t so terrifying. The man landed with a force that caused a small earthquake, but he was still alive, evidenced by his steady breathing.


    Pacificus looked at the remaining intruders, his eyes piercing and determined. With a swift motion, he swung his sword again, creating a powerful sonic boom that shook the ground beneath their feet. He stood in an open stance, holding his mother''s greatsword with one hand, raised confidently at his side. It was a stance that both showcased his immense strength and served as a confident taunt.


    "You are strong," Pacificus said, his voice steady. "All of you."


    He wasn''t lying. These men were stronger than the knight he had once defeated in a duel. The only reason that knight had survived was due to his masterwork armor and impressive sword¡ªone of the finest pieces in Pacificus''s storage. These men, however, were far stronger, but their gear was common and cheap, easy to maintain but average in quality.


    "The next strike... I will be swinging my sword. You have been warned. Will you fight me and die, or would you want to live another day? If you want to fight, then approach me. If you don''t, then drop your weapons. This will be your final warning."


    The silence that followed was heavy with tension. The remaining men glanced at each other, their earlier bravado replaced by fear and uncertainty. They saw the unconscious bodies of their comrades, the sheer strength and skill of Pacificus, and the reality of their situation sank in.


    "Wait," his voice suddenly boomed.


    The men froze.


    "Take your friends with you," he commanded, pointing at the unconscious men scattered around the yard.


    The intruders hurriedly obeyed, gathering their fallen comrades. It took some effort, but they managed to lift and carry the unconscious men, avoiding Pacificus''s stern gaze as they did so.


    Once they had gathered their comrades, they slowly retreated, the weight of their defeat clear in their hunched shoulders and hesitant steps. Pacificus watched them go, ensuring they left his property without further incident.


    When the last of them disappeared from view, he lowered his sword and let out a deep breath.


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    With sword in hand, Pacificus quickly ran toward his basement. "Merina?" he called into the darkness.


    At first, there was silence, then he heard footsteps. Knowing how vast and deep his basement was, he ventured inside, a torch now in his other hand. "Merina?" he called again, his voice echoing.


    "We''re here, Pacificus," Merina replied, holding the hand of the youngest child, Minos.


    She smiled upon seeing Pacificus unharmed. "You have a really large basement."


    Pacificus returned her smile. "I told you I''d return."


    They made their way outside the basement. The sun was still up, and when the children arrived, they saw the mess in front of Pacificus''s porch.


    "That''s a sword and a shield... why are there so many weapons?" one child asked.


    "Wait a minute... is that... teeth?" another pointed out.


    "He he he, this hole looks like a face," a third child giggled, inspecting the crater where one of the men had landed.


    Pacificus went pale as he realized he had forgotten to remove the evidence.


    "All right, children," Merina said, taking charge, "go back to your training. Pacificus and I will clean up this mess."


    "Yes, mom," they chorused.


    The children returned to their training, though some of the older kids cast curious glances at Pacificus, as if wanting to ask questions but deciding against it.


    "He definitely won that fight," Apollo remarked to Artemis.


    "Fight? What fight?" Artemis replied, puzzled.


    "You are too shallow, sis," Apollo teased, shaking his head.


    The two adults cleaned the mess from the battlefield. The air was thick with the remnants of tension, and the ground bore the signs of the recent struggle.


    "Pacificus," Merina said, breaking the silence.


    "Y-yes?" Pacificus replied, looking up from the scattered weapons.


    "Thank you for protecting us."


    "No... they came for me... I''m sorry. I put all of you in danger."


    "What?" Merina looked at him, her brow furrowing.


    "They are assassins. They came for my life," Pacificus admitted, his voice heavy with regret.


    "..."


    "I''m sorry," he repeated, his shoulders slumping slightly.


    "And you killed them?" Merina asked, her tone cautious.


    "I thought I would... but they ran away when I knocked some of them out," he explained.


    "Oh... do you think they would come back?" she asked, concern lacing her words.


    "Uhmm... I don''t think so... this is not the first time someone hired an assassin to kill me."


    Merina blinked, taken aback. "Not your first time?"


    "My mother told me that I should be strong. That I should learn how to defend myself... that way... I wouldn''t get taken advantage of," he continued, his expression resolute. "Although I dislike violence... she is right."


    Merina looked at Pacificus. He didn''t seem to be proud of what he did; in fact, he lamented it.


    "The world is beautiful... but people can be cruel sometimes. My mother told me that if I want to be kind, then I should be strong... for only the strong could afford to be kind. I guess that is why I want the children to be strong too."


    Merina followed his gaze to the children training in the distance.


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    "I don''t want them to be taken advantage of. I want them to be strong so they can defend themselves... so they can afford to be kind... especially in a world like this. But if you want the children to stay away from me, I would understand. I''ve brought you danger. I''m sorry," Pacificus said, his voice tinged with regret.


    Merina chuckled softly. "This isn''t the first time we''ve been exposed to danger, Pacificus. Everyone is desperate these days. They''ll do anything for food or money. Once, we were robbed by a group of thieves. They took Artemis hostage in exchange for some food and money. I guess that''s why she wants to become stronger."


    "Oh... I''m so sorry about that," Pacificus replied, his voice filled with concern.


    "Don''t be. It''s not your fault. I''m just glad that despite everything, we''re still together. We survived a siege led by beast tamers. We survived a raid from bandits when the soldiers went out to fight a battle. Now that I think of it, maybe that''s why the children want to get stronger. They''re tired of being pushed down. They know what it feels like to be helpless, to be at the mercy of those stronger than you."


    She sighed, looking at Pacificus. "Even I know how that feels."


    "How do you do it, Pacificus?" she asked.


    "What do you mean?"


    "How did you get so strong? You told me you''re a farmer monk, yet you can beat assassins who outnumbered you without breaking a sweat. Wait a minute." Her eyes widened in realization. "Are you injured?"


    "No."


    Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Come with me." She then dragged Pacificus back to his own hut.


    "I-I-I''m not injured," Pacificus panicked. "Honestly, I''m not."


    "Even a talented warrior would receive injuries after surviving a fight where they''re outnumbered."


    Inside Pacificus''s home, Merina inspected his body, needle and thread in hand, ready to stitch any cut she found.


    "I''m not a healer, but I know how to stitch a wound."


    "But I''m not wounded."


    "You have a habit of lying so people won''t worry about you."


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    She inspected his body only to find that Pacificus wasn''t lying. There were no injuries. In fact, his body was muscular and hard, a testament to all his training and discipline.


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    "Vesta''s Flame," Merina whispered to herself, her eyes lingering on Pacificus''s muscles. She felt a tinge of jealousy in her heart as she stared at his physique, each muscle defined and testament to his rigorous training and discipline. "I want that... maybe I should train too."


    "You aren''t lying," she admitted, her voice softer.


    "I told you," he replied, a gentle smile on his face.


    She sighed in relief. "I guess I worried for nothing." Her gaze met Pacificus''s, searching for answers. "What is your secret, Pacificus? Even a seasoned warrior wouldn''t come out unscathed, let alone survive what you''ve been through... yet you, a farmer, not only survived but also made it out without a scratch. How did you do it, Pacificus? How did you manage to defend yourself despite not having the class for it?"


    "It''s because of my skill, ''Parry,''" he explained simply.


    "Parry? Parry can''t be that strong... even I have that skill, Pacificus."


    "That is the only combat skill I have... Parry. It was the only combat skill I practiced ever since I first picked up a sword. I don''t want to harm anyone; that is why I chose to master that skill."


    "... What is the potential of your Parry?" she asked, curiosity piqued.


    "The last time I checked, it was: Advanced Experience and Mythical Potential. I haven''t checked it since then."


    Merina almost went deaf when she heard it. "Pardon?"


    "It was Advanced Experience and Mythical Potential," he repeated, his tone unchanging.


    She blinked, processing his words. If the man in front of her was lying, it was a well-crafted tale, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.


    "When was the last time you checked your blessing?" she inquired, her mind racing.


    "I... I don''t know... My dad died when I was eleven, so I guess it was thirteen years ago?" Pacificus responded, his voice tinged with sorrow.


    "And... you''ve been practicing the same skill for thirteen years?"


    "Of course," he replied, his resolve clear.


    She sat beside him on his bed, a look of realization dawning on her face. "Pacificus, if you went to your temple right now... you might have surpassed your potential by now."


    Pacificus sighed deeply. "You are right... I really wanted to upgrade my agricultural skills."


    Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him. "Are all of your skills at Mythical Potential?"


    "No," he said, blushing in embarrassment. "My farming skills are all at Master Potential."


    She raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and curiosity.


    Pacificus''s face reddened even further. "All of them are Beginner skills too."


    "Is your Parry skill in the Beginner class?"


    "No... the last time I checked, it said Basic."


    "Last time you checked?"


    "Yes."


    "I see," Merina said, as she tries to keep her curiosity in check. "Let''s continue our work, Pacificus. Your front yard looks like the remnants of a war," Merina said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.


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    Pacificus sighed, his broad shoulders slumping slightly. "Those guys... I really hope they don''t return."


    As they continued to clean up, Merina recalled the hole one of the children had pointed out, its shape resembling a man''s face. The memory of that imprint brought a giggle to her lips. The indent was uncanny¡ªflattened earth forming the contours of a nose, a wide-eyed expression, and a mouth twisted in surprise.


    "I don''t think they will return, Pacificus," she giggles.

 Chapter 7: A Hot Pot for The Next Generation

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    "What?" Hyakinthos replied, his breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to catch up with Apollo. "Big Brother Pacificus... how do you think he got that strong?"


    "I don''t know," Hyakinthos replied, still trying to catch his breath. "How are you still going... my arms... I can''t feel them."


    Apollo grinned at his friend. "I practiced... a lot."


    Hyakinthos raised an eyebrow. "There''s your answer."


    "Maybe you are right."


    "Hey, Apollo, whose god are you going to visit when you turn ten?"


    Apollo let go of the bar and landed gently on the hay. "At first, I wanted to serve Vesta... but now, I think I want to serve Gaia more... it just feels more right to me."


    "I think it''s kinda weird though... Guess I''ll just choose to serve Vesta."


    "What blessing would you want, Haya?"


    "I don''t know."


    "Me too."


    As the day ended, another barrel of yarn was with the children who were resting on the cart. Merina walked alongside Pacificus.


    "You mentioned that wasn''t the first time someone sent assassins to kill you?... I don''t want to intrude on your privacy, Pacificus, but... what did you actually do to warrant such acts?"


    "I... I really don''t know... I suspect it was probably one of the nobles I beat in a duel... or worse, the family member of someone I killed."


    "Killed?"


    "... It happens... I don''t like it... but it happened."


    "... Do you remember them?"


    "... I still remember their faces but I don''t know their names... I buried their bodies in places marked by trees." Pacificus took a deep breath. "There must be fifteen of them buried there... yet no one has claimed their bodies, I guess."


    He looked at Merina. "If you think that I''m a dangerous person and you need to remove the children from me... then I will not blame you... I think that is the most responsible thing to do... I don''t want my loved ones hanging out with murderers either."


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    "You probably killed them accidentally," she replied, her eyes unimpressed. "You are way too soft to actually kill something with actual murderous intent."


    Pacificus remained silent for a moment. "Well, I did hunt beasts for food. That''s the closest I had to murderous intent."


    Merina simply rolled her eyes, unimpressed by Pacificus''s reply. "I doubt it," she said with a smirk.


    The pair made sure to not wake up the children who were sleeping on the cart as they continued their conversation.


    "I''ll see you tomorrow, Pacificus," Merina said softly, careful not to disturb the resting children.


    "You are still going to come tomorrow... after all of that?" Pacificus asked, surprised.


    "Of course," she replied with a warm smile. "I''ll see you tomorrow, Pacificus."


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    The next day began just like the last. The children were training diligently, Merina was making yarn, and Pacificus was tending to his farm. The children, familiar with their routine, ran obstacle courses and did pull-ups. They had even started racing each other, turning their training into a spirited competition.


    As Pacificus worked, a child approached him. "Mr. Pacificus," said a boy with black hair and violet eyes, "when will we hold weapons like Artemis?"


    "Not yet, Young Hyakinthos," Pacificus replied gently. "You need to learn how to run away from your enemies first before you learn how to fight."


    "Why?"


    Pacificus smiled at the young boy. "So when you encounter a foe stronger than you, you can outrun them."


    "Isn''t that cowardice?"


    "It''s preservation, Lord Hyakinthos. You run away from a strong enemy until the day when you are strong enough to face them."


    "Oh, I see."


    "What weapon do you want to use, Lord Hyakinthos?"


    "I don''t know."


    "Lord Apollo and Lady Artemis wanted to master the bow. That''s why Lord Apollo is doing push-ups right now. If you tell me the weapon you want to master, perhaps I can add something to your training."


    "Well... I don''t like bows. I have to make more arrows to make them work. But I don''t want to fight enemies up close. No... I don''t like fighting at all. I just want to get stronger so I won''t be afraid of bad people."


    Pacificus chuckled softly. "Lord Hyakinthos, no matter how strong you get, you should still be cautious of bad people."


    "But I don''t want to lose to them... but I don''t know how to fight them. I don''t even know what weapon I should use. If I use bows, I would be dependent on arrows. If I use swords and spears, then I would be dependent on those weapons. And I really hate fighting, especially up-close."


    "Hmmm... Lord Hyakinthos, our bodies themselves are weapons, but to wield them, we must learn how to use them first."


    "You mean... punching?"


    "Before my mother taught me how to wield a sword, she taught me how to fight without weapons. She called it an art... a martial art, and it''s her passion."


    "What is that?"


    "Come with me, Lord Hyakinthos."


    The two walked over to where Artemis and Apollo were training, one doing push-ups, the other practicing with a bow.


    "Watch," Pacificus instructed.


    He took a stance, a powerful and poised boxing stance. Then, he threw a punch, sending a shockwave through the air, followed by a series of rapid, precise punches and combinations. His movements were fluid and controlled, each strike executed with incredible speed and efficiency. His feet, legs, arms, and entire body moved in perfect harmony, making it almost look like a dance.


    "What skill is that?" Hyakinthos asked, eyes wide with awe.


    "It isn''t a skill. It''s a series of techniques. I don''t have any skills for martial arts, Lord Hyakinthos. So you will probably surpass me in this art if you practice it."


    "I want to learn it," Hyakinthos declared.


    "Me too," Apollo chimed in.


    "Me too," Artemis added.


    Pacificus smiled warmly at their eagerness. "Artemis, Apollo, you need to master the bow first before you try to learn something new. Lord Hyakinthos, you need to condition your body first before you learn how to practice this art."


    The children nodded, a mix of determination and disappointment on their faces.


    "Don''t worry, you will learn it," Pacificus assured them with a reassuring smile, his voice full of encouragement.


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    A child approached Merina, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Mom, why do you always do that?"


    "Do what, Rhapso?" Merina asked, looking up from her work with a gentle smile.


    "That, Mom... the thing you are doing with the... uh, umm, what are you making, Mom?"


    Merina''s smile broadened. "Yarn. It''s called yarn. We use it to make cloth."


    "It doesn''t look like cloth," Rhapso said, her brow furrowed in confusion.


    "Want to see me turn it into cloth?" Merina offered, her eyes twinkling.


    "Yes!" Rhapso replied eagerly.


    Merina reached for two knitting needles and began to knit. "Watch closely," she instructed. Her hands moved with practiced dexterity and skill, the needles clicking rhythmically as they worked the yarn. Rhapso''s eyes widened in amazement as she watched the yarn transform into a piece of cloth. For her, it was like witnessing magic. Her eyes filled with inspiration as she watched her mother work.


    "Do you want me to teach you?" Merina grinned at her daughter''s awe.


    "Yes!" Rhapso said, bouncing on her toes with excitement.


    "Alright," Merina nodded, pleased with her daughter''s enthusiasm.


    "But I have to run with them," Rhapso said, glancing toward the children training under Pacificus''s watchful eye.


    "I''m sure Pacificus won''t mind," Merina said with a reassuring smile. "Do you enjoy running, Rhapso?"


    "No," Rhapso replied, shaking her head.


    Merina flinched slightly at the answer. "Then why do you run with them?"


    "Because it is fun running with them," Rhapso explained, her face lighting up at the thought of joining her siblings.


    "Oh," Merina said, understanding dawning on her. "Do you want to try knitting?"


    "Yes," Rhapso affirmed, her excitement bubbling over.


    "Alright then," Merina said, handing Rhapso a pair of knitting needles and some yarn. "Let''s get started."


    Pacificus returned, smiling as he saw Merina and young Rhapso bonding over their knitting. The scene reminded him of his own family, filling him with a warm sense of nostalgia. Not wanting to interrupt their joy, he quietly resumed tending to his farm.


    As he worked, he heard a young voice behind him. "Umm, Mr. Pacificus?"


    Pacificus turned to see one of the youngest children training under him. She had blond hair that reminded him of wheat and bright green eyes. "Yes, Lady Demeter?" he asked gently.


    "I...uhmm," she began, blushing with embarrassment, "I''m hungry."


    "Oh." He suddenly paled, realizing he had forgotten to prepare lunch. As a farmer, neglecting to provide food was a significant oversight. "What would you like to eat, Lady Demeter?"


    "I... I don''t know... a sandwich?... I don''t know... I just want to eat."


    "Well then, come with me, Lady Demeter. Let''s prepare a meal together," he said, smiling warmly.


    Young Demeter''s face lit up with a smile, and she followed Pacificus enthusiastically.


    In the kitchen, they found a variety of ingredients: cabbages, potatoes, onions, garlic, carrots, beets, spinach, lettuce, a giant mushroom harvested from his underground basement, mandrakes, and barometz meat.


    Pacificus looked around his small house and realized it wouldn''t accommodate twelve children. "Let''s cook outside, Lady Demeter."


    "What are we cooking, Mr. Pacificus?" she asked, eyes wide with curiosity.


    Pacificus smiled. "We are making hotpot."


    "What''s that?"


    "First, let''s prepare a bonfire outside."


    Demeter grabbed Merina''s huge cauldron while Pacificus carried the ingredients in a large basket. They worked quickly, setting up a bonfire that soon caught everyone''s attention.


    "Mr. Pacificus, how do we make hotpot?" Demeter asked, her excitement palpable.


    "Let me show you," Pacificus replied.


    Pacificus began by setting up the large cauldron over the bonfire, securing it in place with sturdy stones. He filled the cauldron with fresh water, watching as it gradually began to heat up over the crackling flames.


    "First, we need to prepare the ingredients. We''ll wash and chop the vegetables and meats. The hotpot is a dish where you cook various ingredients together in a flavorful broth," he explained.


    He handed Demeter a small knife, showing her how to safely chop the carrots, potatoes, and mandrakes into bite-sized pieces. Her small hands worked carefully, mimicking his precise movements.


    The other children gathered around, their curiosity piqued, some stepping forward to help.


    "Wait" says Pacificus to the other children "Don''t forget to wash your hands"


    "Next, we''ll prepare the broth," Pacificus continued. He placed a smaller pot over the fire, adding water, a mix of dried herbs, spices, and a pinch of his prized salt. As the mixture simmered, it released a fragrant aroma, blending the earthy scent of the herbs with the warmth of the spices, filling the air with an inviting smell.


    Once the broth was ready, he carefully poured it into the large cauldron. The hot water hissed and bubbled as it mixed with the broth, creating a rich base for their meal. "Now we add the vegetables," he said, picking up the chopped carrots, potatoes, onions, beets, and mandrakes. "These will take a bit longer to cook, so they go in first."


    The children eagerly took turns adding the vegetables to the cauldron, their faces lighting up with excitement as they watched the colorful mix disappear into the simmering broth. The steam rising from the pot carried the combined scents of the fresh produce, making their mouths water in anticipation.


    "Next, we add the meats," Pacificus said, reaching for the barometz meat. He sliced it into thin, even strips, each cut releasing a subtle, savory scent. He also prepared chunks of the giant mushroom, its earthy aroma adding a robust depth to the broth. The children watched in awe as he added the meats to the pot, their eyes widening as the ingredients blended together.


    "Now for some greens," he said, adding the spinach and lettuce last. "These will cook quickly and add a nice, fresh flavor to the hotpot." The leafy greens floated on the surface before slowly wilting into the broth, their vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the other ingredients.


    As the hotpot simmered, Pacificus stirred it gently, ensuring everything cooked evenly. The aroma wafted through the air, growing richer and more enticing with each passing moment. The children chatted excitedly, the anticipation building as they waited for the meal to be ready.


    "We''ll let it simmer until everything is tender and delicious," Pacificus said, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction as he watched over the cauldron. After a while, he finally declared, "It''s ready."


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    Pacificus and Demeter served the others bowls full of the delicious hotpot. Soon, a circle formed around the cauldron, the children eagerly digging into their meals. The rich, savory aroma of the hotpot filled the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and conversation.


    Merina sat beside Pacificus, her bowl cradled in her hands. "When are you planning to visit the temple?" she asked between bites.


    "I don''t know... I''ll wait until the children receive their blessings, I guess," Pacificus replied, his gaze thoughtful as he watched the children.


    "The youngest one is Minos, and he''s five years old. You are willing to wait for five more years?" Merina raised an eyebrow.


    "I don''t mind... the journey to the temple takes months of travel through the never-ending forest. A month is more than enough to mess up some of my crops though."


    "Oh," Merina said, understanding the weight of his responsibility.


    Not far from them, the children were also talking about their futures as they shared the hotpot. "Which God are you gonna serve, Arty?" Apollo asked.


    "Gaia," Artemis flatly answered. "I don''t know why. It just felt right to me. You?"


    "Gaia too, I guess. Maybe I''ll try to ask for the blessings of an apothecary. We need healers after all. How about you, Haya?"


    Hyakinthos''s violet eyes looked at the flame. "I... I actually don''t know. I haven''t decided yet," he answered.


    There was a yarn and some needles on Rhapso''s lap as she ate her hotpot. "I want to be a tailor," she chimed in with her siblings.


    "Like Mother Merina?" asked Artemis.


    "Yes."


    Apollo looked at Demeter, who was happily serving some more food to her siblings. "I guess Demy would choose the blessings of a farmer."


    "What makes you say that?" Artemis asked.


    "You''re too slow, sis," Apollo teased.


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    After their lunch, the children resumed their training. Pacificus returned to tending his farm, this time with young Demeter accompanying him. The midday sun cast a warm glow over the fields, and the rhythmic sounds of the children''s training echoed in the background.


    "The life of a farmer isn''t easy, Lady Demeter. Why choose it?" Pacificus asked the young girl as they walked through the rows of crops.


    "I like to cook," she answered, her voice soft but resolute. "I don''t like farming, but I like to cook."


    Pacificus chuckled at her answer. "Tending to your farm is important, Lady Demeter. When you are tending to the farm, you are also tending to the ingredients that will be used to make food for others."


    "But... it''s too much work," she replied, her small face scrunched up in frustration.


    "You will get used to it, Lady Demeter," he reassured her gently.


    "Do farmers have skills that can help them with... farm tending?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.


    "Of course. I have a skill that the voice of creation calls ''Green Thumb.'' It ensures that plants planted by me grow healthier. There is also ''Strong Back,'' which makes me carry heavier things and increases my endurance so I don''t get tired easily when I''m tending to my crops. I also have ''Intermediate Harvesting'' that makes harvesting so much easier and faster."


    "Oh... that sounds really handy," Demeter said, her eyes wide with wonder.


    "It is. I wouldn''t have time to practice and pray if it wasn''t for these skills. Want me to tell you something, Lady Demeter?"


    "Yes," she said eagerly.


    "This farm here," Pacificus said, gesturing to the nutrient-rich soil, "was once hard rock. My father turned it into fresh soil."


    Her eyes widened. "Really?"


    "Yes. My grandmother was a miner, and this place was actually a mine, which my father transformed into a garden and then into a farm. That waterwheel over there," he pointed to the waterwheel by the river, "my father told me that grandfather made that waterwheel to wash the ores that grandma got."


    "Is that the reason why you have a huge basement?" she asked, her curiosity growing.


    "Yes, my grandfather and grandmother walked those very stairs to access the mines. My father planted mushrooms in it."


    "There are mushrooms in it?" Demeter asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.


    "Yes, that is where I got the giant mushroom."


    As Pacificus shared stories of his ancestors with young Demeter, they worked together, tending to the crops with care and dedication.


    Meanwhile, Merina was making yarn from wool, her hands moving with practiced ease. Rhapso sat nearby, diligently turning the yarn into cloth. Though her progress was slow, her eyes were focused, and Merina chose not to disturb her, admiring her determination.


    Artemis practiced with her bow, drawing it further and further, her form improving with each draw. Apollo was doing push-ups and pull-ups, his muscles straining with effort. Hyacinthus was running the obstacle course with his siblings, all of them trying their best to outrace each other.


    The sun set, casting a warm orange glow over the farm as they gathered for supper. Tonight¡¯s meal was another hotpot, but this time, it was made by Demeter. Pacificus had guided her, of course, but in the end, it was her own cooking.


    "Your hotpot tastes different than mine," Demeter said, a hint of concern in her voice. "Did I do something wrong?"


    "No," Pacificus replied with a reassuring smile. "Everyone''s cooking tastes different, Demeter. Even if you follow the same recipe and use the same ingredients, everyone''s cooking will taste different and unique because we are all unique."


    Demeter looked at Pacificus in confusion, then turned to Merina. "He is right, Demeter," said Merina. "That''s what my mom told me too... and she was also a farmer."


    "Okay," Demeter said softly, staring thoughtfully at her own hotpot.


    The hotpot quickly disappeared as the children eagerly ate their fill. After supper, Pacificus pulled the cart carrying the children back to their home. The walk was silent, the air cool and still, with Pacificus pulling the cart and Merina walking beside him.


    "Do you have something to do tomorrow, Pacificus?" Merina asked.


    "Yes. I need to tend to my farm. The leaves are turning yellow. Winter is near," he replied.


    "Do farmers have work during winter?" she inquired.


    "Yes, but not as much compared to spring."


    "So you will be going to the temple during the winter?" she asked.


    "No... I might miss spring if I start the travel during winter," he explained.


    "The travel is that long?" Merina asked, surprised.


    "Yes," Pacificus confirmed.


    "If that is the case... would you like to come with me during the winter?" Merina asked tentatively.


    "Do you need something? I might be able to help you... do you have a prob¡ª" Pacificus paused, remembering the assassins that had tried to hunt him down. A wave of fear washed over him as he wondered if those people had seen the children and Merina. "Is someone threatening you?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.


    "What?" Merina blinked in confusion. "No. What thoughts have brought you to that conclusion?"


    "So no one is threatening you?"


    "No, of course not."


    "Then do you need something?"


    "Well... since you are always busy... I came to the conclusion that you have more spare time during the winter."


    "I do."


    "I have always seen you yet didn''t bother to try to get to know you before."


    "We both had our own circumstances. You had children to take care of and a house to rebuild back then."


    "I actually thought we were going to die of starvation back then... and then you appeared and kept giving us food."


    "If I hadn''t done that, those products would have spoiled. Rather than letting them spoil in storage, I would rather give them to those in need."


    "You know... sometimes I worry about you."


    "I''m sorry."


    "Don''t be. You are way too kind for your own good. It fears me that one day someone will take advantage of that kindness of yours."


    The two met each other''s gaze, Pacificus''s heterochromatic eyes locking with Merina''s blue ones. Both of their gazes lingered, and Pacificus''s face turned red, his heart racing as if it were about to leap out of his throat. Merina blushed too, and they both looked away in embarrassment.


    "Y-y-you''ve been growing your hair," Pacificus said awkwardly.


    "Y-y-yeah... they said I look too much like a boy, so... I wanted to try to be more feminine, I guess."


    "B-but you are feminine."


    She looked at Pacificus with a grin. "Y-you think so?"


    "Y-yes."


    "Some of my siblings called me handsome rather than beautiful, though."


    Pacificus blinked in confusion. "Isn''t that the same thing?"


    Merina looked scandalized. "No, it''s not," she giggled as she grabbed Pacificus''s arm, making the two-meter giant blush.


    "Pacificus," she called his name, her face red, "Do... do you have a lover?"


    "N-n-n-no," Pacificus replied, his voice full of panic as his heart threatened to jump out of his throat. "I never did."


    "Pacificus."


    "Y-yes, Merina?"


    "I would like to know you more."


    "I... I would like to know you more too."


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    Their journey ended in front of the orphanage. An old woman holding a baby greeted them.


    "Lady Merina, Mr. Pacificus," she smiled at them, "You are early today. Is there something wrong?"


    "Early?" Merina blinked. "What do you mean, Mother Leto?"


    The old woman grinned from ear to ear and then whispered in Merina''s ear, "I know a person in love when I see one."


    "MOM!" Merina replied, scandalized.


    "Oh my... am I wrong?" she chuckled. She then approached Pacificus. "You can take her for the night, Mr. Pacificus."


    "But it''s night. It''s dangerous during the night."


    She smiles at the man''s reply. "You can keep her company near the river, dear. The stars are shining."


    "M-Mom."


    "Oh... did I misunderstand something?"


    She then looked at Merina with a huge grin on her face and whispered, "He has a farm, a strong body, and is a strong fighter. He''s a keeper, my dear."


    "W-W-what? M-mom, that''s evil."


    "You are right. You should choose someone who actually loves you and not someone who wants to¡ª"


    "MOM, STOP!"


    "You have my permission too Merina" an old man replies, he has a hammer attached on his waist belt, his apron is a mess "But Mr.Pacificus, if anything happens to her... We will hold you responsible."


    "I" before Pacificus replies he then remembers the men that tried to kill him. The mere thought that Merina and the children where caught between that mess still brings him to shame. His eyes went serious, determination fills his entire being "I understand" he replies.


    "Good man" The old man "Approved"


    "Father Lelantos!" Merina almost shouted "We aren''t even there yet!"


    "ARRGGH! VESTA''S FLAME! JUST GO ALREADY!" A woman shouts her hair is black like Merina''s and her eyes are as black as the night. Her dress is simple but what is eye catching about her is her abundance of bags attached to her body. "STOP MAKING A SCENE AND GO MERINA!"


    "SHUT UP ASTERIA!" Merina retorts "AREN''T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE AT THE TEMPLE!"


    "I never forget my roots, Sister!"


    The two women clashed with each other. Their eyes interlocking in rage.


    "Auntie" says a child also carrying a bag.


    A smile was immediately formed in Merina''s face. "Hecate. What are you doing here?" she says as she carries the young girl, she resembles the woman Asteria, she practically looks like a younger version of Asteria.


    "Dad isn''t home. So mama took me to work."


    "He is not home?" she looks at Asteria, her face worried.


    "He is a wizard, of course I expect him to go for a journey."


    "Are you going home Hecate?"


    "No... Mama says we are going to the walls to see the stars."


    "Oh. That sounds nice."


    "Come Hecate, Let us not disturb your picky Old Auntie."


    "I AM NOT OLD!"


    "Bye Auntie Merina"


    "Bye Hecate."


    An old woman smiles at Merina. "You better get going dear. The children have long enter the orphanage."


    She blushes and approaches Pacificus.


    "Want to see the stars with me?" she asks her voice shaky and her heart pounding on her chest as her face turns bright red.


    "Y-yes" Pacificus replies. "L-let me get my cart."


    "Oh it can stay here young man" Lelantos inquired.


    "MOM, STOP!"


    "You have my permission too, Merina," an old man replied, a hammer hanging from his waist belt and his apron a mess. "But Mr. Pacificus, if anything happens to her... we will hold you responsible."


    "I¡ª" Pacificus began, but then he remembered the men who had tried to kill him. The mere thought that Merina and the children could have been caught in that mess still brought him shame. His eyes grew serious, determination filling his entire being. "I understand," he replied solemnly.


    "Good man," the old man nodded. "Approved."


    "Father Lelantos!" Merina almost shouted. "We aren''t even there yet!"


    "ARGGH! VESTA''S FLAME! JUST GO ALREADY!" a woman shouted. Her hair was black like Merina''s, and her eyes were as dark as the night. Her dress was simple, but what was eye-catching about her was the abundance of bags attached to her body. "STOP MAKING A SCENE AND GO, MERINA!"


    "SHUT UP, ASTERIA!" Merina retorted. "AREN''T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE AT THE TEMPLE?"


    "I never forget my roots, Sister!"


    The two women clashed with each other, their eyes interlocking in rage.


    "Auntie," said a child also carrying a bag.


    A smile immediately formed on Merina''s face. "Hecate. What are you doing here?" she asked as she carried the young girl. Hecate resembled Asteria, practically looking like a younger version of her.


    "Dad isn''t home, so Mama took me to work."


    "He''s not home?" Merina''s face grew worried as she looked at Asteria.


    "He is a wizard. Of course, I expect him to go on a journey."


    "Are you going home, Hecate?"


    "No... Mama says we are going to the walls to see the stars."


    "Oh. That sounds nice."


    "Come, Hecate. Let us not disturb your picky Old Auntie."


    "I AM NOT OLD!"


    "Bye, Auntie Merina."


    "Bye, Hecate."


    An old woman smiled at Merina. "You better get going, dear. The children have long entered the orphanage."


    Blushing, Merina approached Pacificus.


    "Want to see the stars with me?" she asked, her voice shaky and her heart pounding in her chest as her face turned bright red.


    "Y-yes," Pacificus replied. "L-let me get my cart."


    "Oh, it can stay here, young man," Lelantos inquired, waving his hand dismissively.


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    The stars and the two moons lit up the otherwise dark night. A gentle breeze caressed the pair. The river, connected to the town''s moat, reflected the stars and the light of the two moons, transforming it into a literal river of stars. The sounds of crickets and the glow of fireflies added to the enchantment of their surroundings.


    "The river is beautiful," Merina complimented.


    "Yes, it is... but I wouldn''t go closer to it. Too many man-eating fishes and frogs in the river," Pacificus replied.


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    Merina looked at Pacificus, her brows raised and her eyes a bit annoyed. "Why do you have to ruin it?" she complained.


    "What?" he then panicked. "I-I-I''m sorry. W-W-What did I ruin?"


    "N-never mind," she sighed.


    "..."


    "I think you could grow flowers on that river, though."


    "Flowers?"


    "Yes... there are flowers that grow on riverbeds... I mean, I use the river near my home to plant most of my crops."


    "Plant on the river?" Her eyes widened with interest. "You mean the island near your home?"


    "Island?" Pacificus thought for a moment. "That''s... that is not an island... those are my crops. I just don''t want to bring Demeter there because it''s dangerous."


    "Those are your harvest?"


    "Ye-yes. It''s a bunch of potatoes and cabbages, though. I might need to change my crops to herbs and berries."


    "I didn''t even know you can plant crops on a river," she said with interest.


    "Oh, you can... there are even flowers that grow in the river... but they only grow during spring."


    "I would like to see that."


    "It might be dangerous, though."


    She chuckled. "Don''t worry... I know you would protect me." She blushed.


    The pair looked away in embarrassment. Pacificus struggled to find something to talk about. "The... the yarns you are making," he gulped. "Wha-what do you want to do with them?"


    "I turn them into clothes, of course," she answered with pride. "I mean, look at these rags, Pacificus. I think I can still fix them... Oh, and the children too. They need clothes."


    "What kind of clothes?"


    Her eyes lit up with inspiration. "I''m thinking of a tunic. I want that tunic to grow with them, so I would make a long tunic that can be worn by them as they grow. I just need to fold their tunics in a way where the folds are hidden. Oh, and each tunic must have a different pattern too. And pockets! Clothes have to be beautiful, strong, and useful. The pockets will be handy." She then looked at Pacificus, blushing. "Sorry about my rambling," she giggled in embarrassment.


    "No," Pacificus replied. "It''s all right. You sounded so happy when you talk about your interests... I think that is a mindset that people should have¡ªto be passionate about your craft."


    Merina looked at Pacificus, their eyes meeting. "You don''t keep secrets, do you, Pacificus?"


    "I-I guess not... My father told me to be honest, and my mother told me to be disciplined and tough."


    She chuckled. "I know so much about your parents because you keep telling me stories about them."


    "I''m sorry."


    "Don''t be... I should be the one apologizing. I know so much about you, yet I never share that much about me."


    "Y-you don''t have to if you don''t want to."


    "No, Pacificus. It''s not fair if I did that... I told you, I want to learn more about you, and you also want to learn more about me."


    "There are some secrets that people simply don''t want to share, Merina. You don''t have to force yourself."


    "Don''t worry, Pacificus," she smiled. "You are not forcing me... also, this is my choice. Pacificus."


    "Yes."


    "My name is Merina... Merina Cl¨ªodhna Leto," she smiled. "I was born on the plains of the west, a child of the riders of Elion. My father was a hunter; he hunted bears, saber cats, and oliphants. His grandparents were sheep herders and horse breeders. My mother is a farmer, like my father''s grandparents; she specializes in livestock and breeding beasts, which my father rode for hunting."


    She looked at Pacificus, her tone turning serious. "My father died in battle, and we were forced to run away. My mother met Mother Leto before our caravan got attacked by soldiers. Mother Leto adopted me, and ever since then, I became a part of her orphanage. Her brother Lelantos was a warrior who protected our caravan. We wouldn''t have made it to this town if it wasn''t for him. The orphanage we live in was actually a part of the temple of Vesta. Mother Leto herself was a priestess of Vesta, and her brother Lelantos is a protector of Vesta... I was actually planning on becoming a priestess of Vesta myself... until I met you."


    Pacificus panicked. "Wha-what did I do?"


    Merina looked at Pacificus, initially annoyed, but then her heart fluttered, and she couldn''t control it. Her emotions threatened to explode, so she hid it with a chuckle. "What did you do?" she grinned. "You were a kid at that time, and you''ve been doing this for so long, you probably don''t even remember."


    Pacificus sweated in panic.


    "You always came with the largest cart in town, and that cart kept growing bigger and bigger. You always sold your crops to merchants and the nobles while also giving your crops for free to our orphanage. You kept saving kids and even adults who got lost in the Ever Resting Forest. There are even tales of you fighting off invaders from your farm. I saw you every few moons, and I just never had a chance to talk to you." She smiled. "Well, until now... Pacificus... I have always admired you."


    Pacificus blushed, his already red face turning even redder. He realized that he had to be fair to Merina. She had shared her life, her personal life, something she wouldn¡¯t share with just anyone. To make it up to her, he decided to be honest.


    Trying to control his fast-beating heart while also trying to calm his senses, he began to tell his side.


    "I am Pacificus... Pacificus Faris Azrael. I was born near the Ever Resting Forest. My mother was an Aserai. She came from the deserts of the south. She was a former mercenary in a group of women warriors called the Sword Maidens. My father was a farmer, whose grandmother was a miner who came from the east and migrated here, while my grandfather was a blacksmith with a passion for craftsmanship. I never actually met my grandparents. I lost my father to a disease, and my mother died in a war. I spent all of my life on my father''s farm. I hated violence and fighting, which is why I spent all of my days in the refuge of my father''s farm.... W-W-When I went to the noble''s keep to pay my taxes... I-I always saw you... Y-Y-You are too beautiful for me... I always felt as if... as if it is a travesty for me to set my eyes on you... The way you take care of your children... the fact that you always cook food for the poor and needy, the fact that you make clothes for those who can''t afford them... I.... I thought... I simply think that when you do those things... that... that you put other goddesses of beauty to shame."


    Perhaps it was their imagination, but it was enough to startle the pair as a low thunder rumbled in the distance, interrupting Pacificus.


    "M-maybe I went too far... I''m sorry."


    Merina''s eyes softened, her heart fluttering at Pacificus''s sincerity. She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering.


    "I... I-I-I... uhhhhhh I have always admired you" Pacificus continued "I-I-I just didn''t have the courage to ask you... wi-will you accept me? To-to-to... Ahh.. I-"


    "My answer will be yes, Pacificus," Merina said with a radiant smile, her voice steady despite the blush coloring her cheeks.


    The pair blushed, then laughed, the sound blending harmoniously with the night.


    "S-so," said Pacificus, "what now? Wha-what do couples do?"


    "I-I don''t know." Merina''s eyes met Pacificus''s, their gazes locking in a moment of shared uncertainty and excitement. "L-let''s hold hands first, Pacificus," she suggested, extending her hands towards him.


    Pacificus took her hands gently, their fingers intertwining. The warmth of their touch sent shivers down their spines, and both of them giggled, their hearts beating as one. The moonlight cast a silvery glow on their figures, and the stars above seemed to twinkle in approval, blessing the beginning of their journey together.


    The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and the sound of crickets serenaded them as they stood by the river, lost in the magic of the moment. The fireflies danced around them, their tiny lights adding to the enchantment of the night. In that serene, star-lit moment, Pacificus and Merina knew they had found something special in each other.

 Chapter 8: Kirin Fawn

    Two months had passed since the arrival of autumn, and the farm had settled into a comforting rhythm. The leaves, now a vibrant tapestry of yellow and red, fell gently to the ground, covering the forest floor in a beautiful shade of crimson. Despite the chill in the air, life on the farm continued with its own steady pulse.


    In one corner of the farm, two children stood with bows in hand, aiming at targets made of hay. The arrows sang as they were released, each aiming to hit the red dot in a friendly competition of skill.


    Nearby, a young girl sat knitting yarn into cloth. Beside her, the woman who was like a mother to her worked with impressive speed and dexterity, the two of them deeply focused on their task. The rhythmic movement of their hands was almost hypnotic, a dance of threads and needles.


    Another young girl tended to the crops, her small hands moving carefully under the guidance of a two-meter giant. The giant patiently explained the different plants, and the girl listened attentively, soaking up every bit of knowledge he imparted.


    Around them, children ran an obstacle course, their feet crunching on the fallen leaves. Some did pull-ups on the now leafless branches of trees, their breath visible in the cool air. Others knelt in prayer by two small trees, their heads bowed in quiet reverence. A few practiced with slings, aiming at planks of wood set up as targets. One child punched a wooden dummy, dodging its retaliatory swings with impressive agility.


    What was eye-catching about the children was their clothes. They all wore long-sleeved tunics that reached their knees. Gone were the rags they once wore; now they were dressed in tunics. Though all the tunics looked the same at first glance¡ªlong white garments reaching their knees with strings at their waists that served as belts and kept their little pocket bags by their sides¡ªa closer inspection revealed the skill of the tailor who made them. Each tunic had a unique knitting pattern, making each one special.


    The strings attached to their waists were actually slings, and the children practicing with these slings used the rocks they had collected along the way as ammunition, stored in their little bags.


    The creator of these tunics sat with her apprentice, a young girl named Rhapso, beside her. A huge yarn ball rested nearby, and in her hands was a large rectangular cloth that flowed down her feet. The sight of her hands weaving the cloth was nothing short of hypnotizing. This woman, with blue eyes and short, curly black hair, occasionally glanced at her adopted children before returning to her work. Her white dress, which she had knitted herself, gently conformed to her body. Hidden within this dress were a bunch of pockets in which she kept her tools.


    As she worked, a two-meter-tall man walked towards the porch, passing by her with a warm smile. She stood up and kissed him on the cheek. The man blushed and retaliated by kissing her back, his short white beard tickling her and making her giggle.


    "Aren''t you cold, Pacy?" said the woman, her eyes twinkling with affection.


    "No... but the children might be. That''s why Demy and I plan to cook something hot... like a scorpion hot pot."


    "Those are river lobsters, Pacy," Merina replied, rolling her eyes with a playful smile.


    "My mom and dad called them river scorpions, though," Pacificus explained.


    "No, they are¡ª" She stopped and thought for a moment. "Huh... I guess they are."


    The farm was a haven of activity and warmth, each person playing their part in the larger tapestry of life. The children continued their training, their laughter and determination filling the air.


    Demeter sat by the fireplace, watching intently as Pacificus expertly handled the enormous river scorpion, which was, in truth, a giant lobster. Beside him, she mimicked his movements, her small hands doing their best to keep up with the large crustacean. The river scorpion was larger than a child but not quite as large as an adult¡ªa formidable size nonetheless.


    Pacificus deftly cut through the huge pincers and multiple legs of the river scorpion, removing its innards with practiced ease. Demeter followed suit, her eyes focused and determined as she chopped her own river scorpion. They worked in unison, the sound of their knives slicing through the thick shells a rhythmic backdrop to their labor.


    Once the scorpions were prepared, they turned to the vegetables. Pacificus reached for the vines of a man-eating plant and its vibrant flowers. Beside these, a mandrake sat, its twisted root form looking almost sentient. They added some carrots and potatoes, both regular and giant varieties, as well as a selection of mushrooms¡ªsome enormous, others small and delicate.


    A huge cauldron of boiling water bubbled over the fire, its heat sending waves of steam into the cool air. On a different flame, Pacificus cooked the giant river scorpion, its bright red shell contrasting sharply with the dull iron of the pan. The savory aroma filled the room, making Demeter''s stomach growl in anticipation. Using the same pan, he then saut¨¦ed the carrots and potatoes, their edges caramelizing to a golden brown.


    With the giant river scorpion now cooked, Pacificus carefully transferred it into the boiling cauldron, its shell crackling as it hit the hot water. Demeter handed him the mushrooms, which he tossed in with a practiced flick of the wrist, followed by the saut¨¦ed carrots and potatoes. The mixture of ingredients sizzled and steamed, creating a symphony of scents that promised a hearty, warming meal.


    They then added some tomato jam to the broth, stirring it in until the rich red color melded with the other ingredients. The sweetness of the jam balanced the savory depth of the broth, adding a layer of complexity to the flavor profile. Next, they tossed in some leafy greens and other vegetables, the vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the earthy tones of the soup.


    Pacificus ladled a small amount of the broth into a wooden spoon, blowing on it gently before taking a sip. His eyes lit up with approval, and he handed the spoon to Demeter. She tasted it as well, nodding in agreement. It was good, but it needed a little more.


    Reaching into his pouches, Pacificus pulled out a selection of spices and sauces. A pinch of salt, a dash of pepper, and a sprinkle of herbs¡ªeach addition was carefully measured and mixed into the bubbling cauldron. They added a splash of soy sauce for umami, a touch of honey for sweetness, and a hint of chili paste for a gentle kick of heat.


    Demeter watched closely, mimicking his movements as he showed her how to balance the flavors. "Remember," he said, "cooking is about finding harmony. Each ingredient should complement the others, not overpower them."


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    She nodded, absorbing the lesson. Together, they tasted the broth again, their faces breaking into satisfied smiles. It was perfect.


    Outside, under the canopy of stars and the gentle light of the two moons, all the children gathered around the fire, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. The flickering flames cast a warm, golden glow on their eager faces, creating a cozy, inviting atmosphere.


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    Demeter and Pacificus began ladling the rich, aromatic stew into wooden bowls that Pacificus had crafted himself. Each bowl was beautifully carved. However, there was one small problem¡ªthe bowls were enormous, made to Pacificus''s standards and more suited to his large hands than to those of the small children.


    The children, though, didn''t seem to mind. They clutched the oversized bowls with both hands, their faces lighting up with delight as they peered into the hearty stew. The steam rising from the bowls carried the savory scents of the giant river scorpion, mushrooms, carrots, and potatoes, making their mouths water.


    Their appetites were enormous, fueled by their exercises and play. They eagerly devoured the stew, relishing every bite. The nutrients and energy provided by the hearty meal were essential for their growing bodies and active lifestyle.


    As the children ate, a surprise arrived. Snowflakes began to fall slowly from the cloudy sky, drifting gently down like tiny stars. The first flakes landed softly on their heads and shoulders, causing a ripple of excitement and wonder among them.


    "It''s snowing!" Artemis exclaimed, holding out her hand to catch a flake.


    The others quickly followed suit, their faces upturned, eyes wide with amazement as they watched the delicate snowflakes descend. The firelight flickered against the backdrop of falling snow.


    Demeter and Pacificus paused, watching the children with smiles on their faces. The snowfall added an unexpected layer of beauty and joy to their day, enhancing the already warm and festive atmosphere. The combination of hearty food, cozy fire, and the gentle snowfall created a perfect moment of simple happiness.


    The children continued to eat, their bowls now adorned with a few delicate snowflakes, adding to their delight. They laughed and chattered, sharing their excitement about the first snow of the season while the snowflakes seemed to dance in the air.


    As the meal came to a close, the children, now full and content, gathered closer to the fire, warming their hands and enjoying the cozy heat. The snow continued to fall, blanketing the ground in a thin, pristine layer. The sight of the snow-covered earth and the warmth of the fire created a sense of peace and contentment among the group.


    "Alright, everyone," Pacificus called out, his voice warm and gentle, yet firm. "You should not come to this place during winter."


    "What? Why?" a chorus of voices responded, filled with curiosity and a touch of disappointment.


    "It''s too cold... winter is starting. Don''t underestimate the cold," Pacificus explained, his tone serious but caring.


    "Okay," the children replied in unison, understanding the concern in his voice.


    The children went out early that day, bundled up against the cold. They all rode in the cart that Pacificus was pulling, his strong arms effortlessly handling the weight. Laughter and chatter filled the air as they made their way back.


    But before they went on their way back to the orphanage, Pacificus gave the three children gifts.


    The three children understood the significance of these gifts. They knew it meant they should not stop training, even as winter approached. Their eyes sparkled with determination and gratitude.


    Artemis and Apollo marveled at their bows, their eyes wide with excitement. The bows were taller than them, promising many hours of practice. Though they knew it would be a while before they could fully draw them, the challenge only fueled their eagerness. They exchanged determined glances, silently vowing to grow into their new weapons.


    Hyakinthos received a heavy, sturdy punching bag, and a grin spread across his face. He could already feel the challenge it presented and was eager to start training with it. The weight of the bag was a promise of hard work and improvement, and he welcomed it wholeheartedly.


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    The cart arrived in front of the orphanage, and the children hopped out, rushing back to the warmth and familiarity of their home. The orphanage had grown, now housing three more infants being cared for by both young and old residents. The building itself had expanded upwards, boasting a new second floor to accommodate the growing number of children.


    Pacificus began unloading the cart, carrying barrels full of yarn, leather, pelts, hardtacks, and pemmican. The children eagerly pitched in, their combined strength making light work of the heavy barrels. Their teamwork was a testament to their growing strength and unity.


    Merina was seen talking to her mother, Leto, near the entrance. Their conversation seemed serious, yet comforting. Pacificus caught sight of Leto hugging her daughter, a moment of maternal warmth and support.


    After the hug, Merina approached Pacificus, wrapping her arms around his. The gesture was tender and full of affection, making his heart swell with emotion.


    Leto and Lelantos observed the couple, their faces reflecting approval and quiet joy. They nodded at Pacificus and Merina, signaling their blessing for the couple.


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    Hand in hand, Pacificus and Merina left the orphanage, stepping into the softly falling snow. The world around them was serene, the snowflakes dancing in the air as they walked side by side.


    "Wait, where are they going?" asked Artemis, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Why is Mother Merina going with Big Brother Pacificus? I want to go too."


    Before she could run towards them, two hands gently grabbed her shoulders.


    "You¡¯re too slow, sis," Apollo said with a playful smirk.


    Hyakinthos added with a grin, "You¡¯re the only one who doesn¡¯t know at this point, Arty."


    Artemis looked between her two brothers, a mix of confusion and curiosity on her face. "Know what?" she asked, her brow furrowing.


    "You actually don''t know?" Hyakinthos said, dumbfounded.


    "Seriously, sis? They''ve been kissing and hugging each other behind our backs. Even Rhapso knows," Apollo added with a smirk.


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    "Ohhh... They are courting each other? Since when?" Artemis asked, her eyes widening with realization.


    "Since forever, it feels like," Hyakinthos replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Maybe you''re too busy with your training to notice."


    Artemis glanced back at the retreating figures of Pacificus and Merina, a soft smile spreading across her face. "I guess I¡¯ve been a little distracted."


    "Or simply clueless" Apollo said. "But it¡¯s nice, isn¡¯t it? Seeing them happy together."


    Artemis nodded, feeling a warm sense of contentment. "Yeah, it is. They deserve to be happy."


    The three siblings watched the couple walk away, their hearts light and their spirits lifted, knowing that their family was growing in love and happiness.


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    Near the Ever Resting Forest, the couple sat down on a log, chosen for its view of the river. It was a peaceful spot, with the gentle sound of the water flowing past, reflecting the light of the setting sun. Yet, hanging near the Ever Resting Forest was not without its dangers. The forest was known for the monsters that occasionally wandered out to drink from the river.


    This danger was precisely why Pacificus and Merina chose this spot. The Ever Resting River, a small part of the larger river, provided a natural barrier between them and the forest. They could observe the creatures that came to the river without being too close to the peril that lurked within the woods. A fallen tree served as a natural bridge, connecting the forest to their side of the river, adding to the thrill and the beauty of the place.


    The riverbank was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant calls of wildlife. The air was cool, and the snow that had begun to fall earlier continued to drift down, covering the ground in a thin, sparkling layer.


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    But right now, none of it mattered for the couple. For Pacificus and Merina, the only thing that mattered and existed was the two of them. It was as if they were living in their own world, a bubble of peace and contentment that shielded them from the dangers of the forest.


    "My father would always say that my grandfather was a dwarf. But my mom would say that was impossible because he is tall and he can''t grow a beard," Pacificus mused, a playful smile on his lips.


    "I believe her, actually. Want to know why, Pacy?" Merina replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.


    "Why, Rina?"


    "Well, if your grandfather was a dwarf, then that makes your dad a hybrid. Hybrids are infertile, Pacy."


    "Wait... they are?"


    "Yes... you didn''t know?"


    "No, I didn''t... so that''s why Mom doesn''t believe that my grandfather was a dwarf... that makes so much sense."


    The two of them chuckled as they held hands, their shoulders touching, drawing comfort from each other''s presence.


    "Pacy, look," Merina said suddenly, her voice filled with excitement.


    She pointed at a creature emerging from the forest. It was a magnificent beast shaped like a huge horse, standing two and a half meters at the shoulder. Its long neck was covered by a brilliant mane, and its head resembled more of a deer than a horse, thanks to the single magnificent horn on its head. It had a long tail covered with fur, claws instead of hooves, and scales instead of skin. The creature moved gracefully, accompanied by its child¡ªa single fawn that looked like a smaller version of itself but lacked a horn. The pair walked cautiously toward the river and began to drink.


    "It''s a Kirin and her fawn," Merina said with awe.


    "They are beautiful, Rina," Pacificus agreed, his voice filled with wonder.


    The sight of the Kirin and her fawn was breathtaking. The majestic creatures, with their shimmering scales and elegant movements, seemed almost otherworldly.


    "My father used to ride one of those creatures," Pacificus remarked, his eyes still fixed on the fading figures of the Kirin and her fawn.


    "Your parents bred Kirin?"


    "Yes and no," Merina replied with a smile. "Kirins are hard to breed, and only the greatest warriors and the wealthiest farmers have them. My father simply found one on his hunting trip, and Mother domesticated it."


    "That''s amazing. I can''t imagine doing that."


    "Have you ever actually tried?"


    "...No," Pacificus admitted.


    Merina chuckled softly. "These beasts are actually a symbol of good luck for us. We are so lucky, Pacy."


    "Really?"


    "What do you mean by ''really''?"


    "I see these magnificent creatures almost all the time, though... sometimes they eat my crops, especially the Barometz."


    "What''s with these Barometz? When can I see one?"


    "When spring comes, you might see them bloom. I just planted them this winter. Their flowers are really pretty... and huge."


    "Huh? Well, you do live near the Ever Resting Forest. How come I haven''t seen them during my stay in your hut, though?"


    "They usually come during spring and summer... especially summer."


    "Oh... but now that I think of it... these Kirin... they look different from the ones from my homeland."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Well, for one... they are bigger than the ones from my birthplace, they also have hooves instead of claws... and their tails... Kirins don''t have that long, dragon-like tail in my hometown. Their tails are like those of horses... much fluffier and longer, but they''re still horse tails."


    "That''s probably because of domestication."


    "My mother kept telling me about that skill... what was it?"


    "Well, wild animals are usually more aggressive and terrifying... so we befriend them, and then we use a skill called ''domestication'' so that their next children will evolve into a different species... well, it''s still the same species but a domesticated one. It''s a powerful skill, too. My mom used to tell me about farmers using the domestication skill so they could breed war animals."


    "Oh... I don''t quite understand."


    "Yeah, it''s really hard to explain," Pacificus agreed, smiling warmly at Merina.


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    Merina rested her head on Pacificus''s shoulder, and he hugged her back. Together, they watched the mother Kirin and its fawn, their breaths forming small clouds in the cold air.


    Suddenly, the bushes rustled with alarming speed, a blur in Merina''s eyes. Instinctively, Pacificus pushed her behind the fallen tree they had been sitting on, shielding her with his body.


    Hidden behind the fallen tree, Pacificus kept his arms protectively around Merina, ready to carry her if things went wrong. They peered over the edge, watching in tense silence.


    A massive creature, as tall as a two-story building, emerged from the forest, charging toward the Kirin and her fawn. The beast had large, powerful legs, muscular arms, and a huge head with jaws that opened wide, revealing razor-sharp, serrated teeth as large as daggers.


    The fawn lagged behind its mother. The predator, sensing an easier target, shifted its focus to the fawn. It lunged, jaws open wide, aiming to crush the fawn''s neck. But the mother Kirin intervened, lowering her horn and charging, stabbing the predator in the shoulder.


    The predator roared in pain. The mother Kirin slashed at the beast with her claws, leaving deep, bloody gashes in its tough, scaly hide. But the wounds weren''t deep enough to stop the creature. It retaliated, sinking its teeth into the Kirin''s magnificent neck.


    Two roars and a cry echoed through the forest. The Kirin fought desperately, clawing at the predator''s head and neck, but its scales were too tough. Pacificus and Merina watched in silent horror as the light in the Kirin''s eyes began to fade.


    "Oh no," Merina whispered, her hands covering her mouth.


    The fawn cried out for its mother, a heartbreaking sound that pierced the cold air.


    The predator looked at the fawn, as if considering whether to eat the child too. But it ignored the fawn, carrying its prey back into the forest. The fawn followed its deceased mother, but hesitated when it saw another predator¡ªa smaller beast, the infant of its mother''s killer. The baby with its small teeth and claws joyfully called to its mother as they disappeared into the forest.


    The fawn, now helpless and alone, returned to the only spot where it could still smell its mother¡ªthe puddle of blood on the snow. It stood there, shivering and lost, as the snow continued to fall around it.


    Pacificus and Merina''s hearts ached for the orphaned fawn. Merina squeezed Pacificus''s hand, tears welling in her eyes. "We have to do something," she whispered. "We can''t leave the poor fawn alone."


    Pacificus looked at Merina, then at the fawn. He remembered Merina''s story¡ªher father killed in the war, her mother dying in front of her while trying to protect her from bandits. The pain of losing one''s parents was all too familiar to both of them. Now, looking at the fawn and at Merina, the scene tugged deeply at the strings of his heart.


    "All right," Pacificus replied. "Let''s kidnap the fawn."


    "We are not kidnapping it! We are adopting it!"


    "Shhh, keep your voice down, Rina."


    "I''m sorry."


    They both crawled towards the fallen tree that bridged them to the forest.


    "Once we grab it, we run," Pacificus instructed.


    "Yes," Merina agreed.


    "I mean it, Rina. You must run as fast as you can."


    "I will."


    They crawled towards the tree bridge, even crawling while crossing it. They feared that the fawn would run away if it saw them.


    Once they were near the grieving fawn, Pacificus whispered to Merina, "Stay here. If it comes towards you, grab it by the head."


    "The head?"


    "Yes."


    "All right."


    Pacificus slowly crawled towards the fawn from behind. He could see its back while it grieved for its mother. Cautiously, he stood up. The fawn''s ears twitched, and it looked towards him.


    "Greetings," he whispered.


    The fawn immediately bolted. Using all his strength, Pacificus chased after it. The fawn was fast, but not fast enough, and it was heading towards Merina. When Merina saw the fawn coming her way, she remembered her father''s words.


    "If it has horns, grab it by the horns. When trying to capture or hunt an animal, you should always control the head. You can do this by grabbing their necks and covering their eyes."


    The fawn ran towards her. She immediately appeared and grabbed the fawn''s head, covering its eyes with her arms, and the fawn and her fell to the ground. Pacificus followed closely, grabbing the fawn by its body.


    The fawn cried out.


    "RUN, RINA!"


    Merina followed Pacificus''s instruction, and he followed behind her, keeping an eye on the Ever Resting Forest. Thankfully, nothing was coming out of the forest... well, at least not yet. The fawn cried as it was being taken, perhaps not yet understanding that it was being rescued by people who wanted to save it.


    They crossed the bridge without anything bad happening to them.


    The fawn cried as it was being taken away from the only memory of its parent. It tried to scratch and struggle against Pacificus. But it didn''t have any claws yet, only hooves. The fawn also didn''t have any horns since it was still too young. Its tail was strong but not strong enough to bother Pacificus. And Pacificus was strong... really strong. The fawn struggled but couldn''t escape Pacificus''s arms, even though it was using all its strength to get free.


    "Pacy, I think you are hurting the fawn. You should hold the bottom too when holding a fawn."


    "Oh, I''m sorry. I never had any experience with livestock."


    Pacificus adjusted his grip, supporting the fawn from underneath. The fawn''s struggling lessened slightly, though it still seemed confused and frightened.


    Merina reached out and gently stroked the fawn''s head, trying to calm it. The fawn retaliated by struggling again.


    "Oh... it is still scared... you poor thing," Merina said softly.


    "Let''s put the young one in my home," Pacificus suggested.


    "Good idea."


    "Hey, Rina."


    "Yes, Pacy?"


    "What do Kirin eat exactly?"


    "I''ve seen them eat fruits and vegetables," Merina replied.


    "I also saw them eating other beasts."


    "They eat meat?"


    "Ye... yeah... well, to be more specific, I saw them eat corpses and small animals, but I''ve never seen them hunt beasts that are bigger than them."


    "That''s weird... Kirin in my birthland were believed to be herbivorous, loyal... and ferocious... but I never knew they could eat meat until now... wait a minute... they are ferocious, so they might have eaten some meat."


    "Let''s try to find out more when we get home. It feels so wrong to say it, but... I''m kind of happy. We have a chance to have a pet."


    The fawn was still struggling and crying, its cries echoing through their surroundings.


    "We have a long way to go before we have its trust, though," Merina replied as she tried to tie her handkerchief over the fawn''s eyes. "H-hey, stop moving... Pacy, can you stop for a second? I''m trying to tie a blindfold on the fawn; maybe it will calm down."


    "Oh, okay," Pacificus said, coming to a halt.


    Merina carefully placed the handkerchief over the fawn''s eyes and tied it gently but securely. The fawn''s struggles seemed to lessen slightly, its cries becoming quieter.


    "There, hopefully this helps," Merina said, patting the fawn gently. "Poor thing must be so scared and confused."


    Pacificus resumed walking, this time more slowly to avoid jostling the fawn too much. "We''ll take it step by step. At least it''s safe now."


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    Inside Pacificus''s home, the fawn stood cornered in his room, the door closed, leaving it with nowhere to run.


    "Let''s see," said Pacificus, approaching the cornered fawn with a piece of cabbage in hand.


    Merina sat on Pacificus''s bed, watching the fawn with a mixture of concern and curiosity.


    The fawn was visibly scared, its back pressed against the wall, unable to move away. As Pacificus moved the cabbage closer, the fawn tried to back away further until its head was also against the wall. Finally, the cabbage touched its mouth. The fawn sniffed the cabbage and took a hesitant bite. Merina''s face lit up with a smile as she saw the fawn eating.


    The fawn ate the cabbage until it was gone.


    "Let''s try the meat," Pacificus suggested.


    He approached the fawn again, this time with a piece of pemmican. The fawn reacted similarly, pressing itself against the wall, trying to stay away from Pacificus while simultaneously sniffing the pemmican. Eventually, it took a tentative bite, then another.


    "Oh," Merina exclaimed softly. "It does eat meat."


    The fawn continued to eat the pemmican, its eyes darting nervously between Pacificus and Merina.


    "I think we should feed it more," said Pacificus, concern evident in his voice.


    "I agree," replied Merina.


    The Kirin fawn, still confused and wary, found itself being fed a variety of foods by two pairs of hands. They offered vegetables, fruits, meat, and even flowers. Initially hesitant, the fawn soon began eating eagerly. It ate and ate.


    Its belly grew round and full, and finally, the fawn let out a small burp. Moments later, its eyes drooped, and it curled up on the floor, falling into a deep sleep.


    "It''s so cute," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think it''ll be alright?"


    "I hope so," Pacificus replied softly, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders. His touch was warm and reassuring, a silent promise of comfort amidst the flickering firelight.


    Merina nestled closer to Pacificus, seeking solace in his embrace. "That fawn... it reminds me of myself, Pacy."


    "Oh, Rina," Pacificus sighed, holding her tighter against him. As they sat together by the fire, the warmth seemed to thaw the chill of past sorrows that lingered in their hearts.


    "My father perished in battle," Merina continued, her voice trembling slightly. "And my mother... she shielded me from arrows with her own body. I clung to her, helpless as she bled... It''s a memory that still haunts me."


    Pacificus listened in silence, his own memories echoing hers in shared sorrow. He understood the weight of loss, the ache of helplessness that lingers long after loved ones are gone.


    "Life can be cruel," he finally murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and resilience.


    "Indeed," Merina whispered, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames as they danced across the room. She felt a kinship with Pacificus in their shared pain.


    "My father died slowly... I watched him grow weak as sickness consumed him... It was a horrible way to die," Pacificus said, holding Merina close as they both looked at the fawn. "My mother died in a war... I was lucky they returned her body to me, even though it was riddled with holes... Life can be so cruel."


    Merina nodded silently, her grip on Pacificus tightening in understanding.


    Pacificus and Merina locked eyes, each seeing their pain mirrored in the other.


    "And yet," Pacificus continued, his voice reflective, "it can be so beautiful... Life is full of contradictions. It''s chaotic yet somehow organized, ugly yet capable of profound beauty, ruthless yet merciful... Merina, that carnosaur that attacked the Kirin... I think I have more in common with that creature than with the Kirin."


    Merina stared at Pacificus, a mix of intrigue and perhaps horror crossing her features.


    "I kill to survive. I kill to eat. I hunt beasts in the forest for sustenance, and I plant crops to harvest them in the future... But in harvesting, I must also take life. I kill to live... I think the reason we grieve for our loved ones is because we understand the value of life, even though death is necessary for survival," he chuckled softly, pulling Merina closer. "Life is chaotic. It''s as if she hates us and loves us at the same time."


    Merina''s gaze softened, moved by the depth of Pacificus''s words.


    "Pacy," she murmured softly, "I will love you for as long as I live... even beyond this body''s time."


    "I will love you, Rina," Pacificus replied, his voice steady and filled with sincerity, "even when my heart beats no more."


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    Their lips met in a tender embrace, the warmth of their affection palpable in the soft flicker of firelight that danced around them. Pacificus''s hand gently cradled Merina''s cheek, his touch both gentle and reassuring. The kiss spoke volumes of unspoken emotions, a culmination of shared pain, understanding, and newfound closeness.


    They broke apart momentarily. Without words, they leaned in again, their second and third kisses lingering with a sweetness that spoke of comfort and reassurance.

 Chapter 9: Tea Ceremony with Man Eating Flowers

    Pacificus and Merina got lost in their own world. Their first kiss was so intoxicating they did it three times, each kiss deepening their connection. Their hearts beat as one, the warmth they felt for each other drowning out the cold reality of the world around them. They clung to each other, savoring the moment, the heat between them creating a cocoon of intimacy and love.


    But then, reality hit as a memory entered Merina''s mind. Her eyes widened with sudden realization. "Oh no," she gasped, pulling away slightly, her breath catching in her throat. "Pacificus, I need to go back home. The children need me."


    Pacificus, sensing the urgency in her voice, immediately responded. "I''ll come with you," he said without hesitation, his expression turning serious. "The fawn is asleep now anyway."


    Merina nodded, her mind racing with thoughts of the children she cared for. The warmth of the moment faded as the pressing responsibility took over. She glanced at the fawn, now curled up peacefully in a corner, its small chest rising and falling with each gentle breath.


    Pacificus stood up, extending his hand to Merina, helping her to her feet. They moved toward the door, their minds now focused on the journey ahead. The air inside the cabin was still warm from the fire, but a cold draft seeped through the cracks around the door.


    With a shared look of determination, they opened the door, only to be met by a blinding wall of snow and howling wind. The storm outside was fierce, the wind whipping snowflakes into a frenzied dance. Icy gusts bit at their faces, forcing them to squint against the onslaught. They quickly shut the door, exchanging worried glances as the severity of the storm became apparent.


    "Let''s try again," Pacificus said, his brow furrowing with concern. He opened the door once more, only to be met with the same relentless wall of snow and swirling storm. The hail now mixed with the snow, pelting against the doorframe with a force that made them instinctively step back.


    They shut the door again, this time with more force, as if to keep the raging elements at bay. The cozy warmth of the cabin now felt fragile against the harsh reality outside.


    "That can''t be right," Pacificus muttered, his voice tinged with confusion and concern. "W-winter just started."


    The storm outside roared, the wind howling like a wild beast, and the temperature inside the cabin seemed to drop even further as the reality of their situation set in. The once cozy fire now felt like a fragile defense against the harshness of the storm. Merina clutched Pacificus''s arm, her face pale with worry, as they both stared at the door, their thoughts racing on what to do next.


    "What should we do?" Merina asked, her voice trembling slightly with the urgency of the situation.


    "I''ll turn the fire up," Pacificus replied, moving towards the hearth. The warmth of the fire was their best defense against the cold seeping through the walls. He added more logs to the fire, watching as the flames hungrily consumed the dry wood.


    "Good thing you always stack up," Merina said, her eyes watching the flames dance. The flickering light cast long shadows across the room, making it feel both cozy and eerie at the same time.


    "How about the children?" Pacificus asked, his voice tinged with concern.


    "They still have food. You gave us a lot," Merina reassured him. "Do they have firewood?"


    "Of course they do... It''s just... Mother Leto and the others will be worried about me," she said, her eyes reflecting the worry she felt.


    "Let''s go back after the storm''s out," Pacificus suggested, his tone firm and reassuring.


    "Yes," Merina agreed, nodding. She trusted his judgment and knew it was best to wait out the storm.


    "Besides... I''m planning on buying a cauldron for the fawn," Pacificus continued, a hint of excitement in his voice.


    "A cauldron? What for?" Merina asked, curious.


    "That fawn will grow a lot. It needs a bigger food bowl," Pacificus explained, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.


    "And... the cauldron?" Merina pressed, wanting to understand his plan.


    "Oh, I''m planning to cook its meals, of course. Cooking removes parasites, after all," Pacificus said, his voice practical.


    "I see... but what about the fawn? Will the poor thing be caged inside your home?" Merina asked, her concern for the fawn evident in her voice.


    "Of course not," Pacificus reassured her.


    "But the fawn would run away," Merina pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.


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    "Then I must train it," Pacificus said confidently. He paused for a moment, then added with a chuckle, "Wait... is the fawn a boy or a girl?"


    Merina looked at him thoughtfully. "I don''t know... let''s find out."


    "But how? There¡¯s nothing obvious in between the fawn¡¯s legs," Pacificus said, puzzled.


    Merina smiled, shaking her head slightly. "Well, kirins are horse-like, but they''re not actually horses. They''re much closer to wingless dragons than horses. In my hometown, there were legends of kirins flying by stepping on the winds themselves."


    "Oh... but how do we find out if it¡¯s a boy or a girl?" Pacificus asked, his curiosity piqued.


    "Seriously, Pacy? That''s what interests you?" Merina teased, but her tone was gentle. "Anyway, this is how we do it."


    They approached the sleeping fawn, who stirred slightly as they drew near. Merina gently lifted its hind leg, examining it closely. The fawn let out a soft cry, disturbed from its sleep.


    "Oh... it''s a boy," Merina announced, lowering the leg carefully.


    "See, Pacy, just like that," she said with a grin.


    The fawn had its back pressed against the wall again, trembling slightly.


    "The poor thing is shaking," said Merina, her voice filled with concern.


    "It must be cold," Pacificus replied.


    "Or scared," Merina added softly.


    "Come here, young one," Pacificus murmured as he gently lifted the fawn and moved it closer to the fire.


    The fawn cried out, its legs flailing in a desperate attempt to escape. But Pacificus, strong and determined, held it securely in his arms. Its struggles, though fervent, were futile against his strength.


    "Shh, it''s alright," Pacificus whispered soothingly, trying to calm the frightened creature.


    Merina knelt beside them, her fingers moving to scratch the fawn¡¯s ears, cheeks, and neck in gentle, calming strokes. The fawn''s cries softened to whimpers under her touch.


    "There, there," she cooed. "You''re safe now."


    Slowly, the fawn''s tense muscles began to relax. Its breathing steadied, and its eyes, filled with fear and confusion, gradually closed. In time, the fawn gave up its struggle entirely, its small body yielding to the warmth of the fire and the comfort of the gentle hands that soothed it.


    Pacificus and Merina watched in silence as the fawn drifted back to sleep. The soft glow of the fire bathed the room in a warm, golden light, casting gentle shadows on the walls. The storm outside raged on, but inside, there was a haven of peace and safety.


    Merina glanced at Pacificus, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "We¡¯ll take good care of you, little one," she whispered, her words filled with a promise.


    Pacificus nodded, still holding the now-calm fawn. "By the way, what should we name him?" he asked, his tone thoughtful.


    "I... I don''t know," Merina replied, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered. "We found him near the Ever Resting River," Merina mused, trying to draw inspiration from the fawn''s origin.


    "Breeze?" Pacificus suggested, his eyes lighting up momentarily with the thought of a gentle name.


    Merina tilted her head, contemplating the name. "Breeze... it''s nice, but it doesn¡¯t seem to fit him just right. It¡¯s too light for such a spirited little one."


    "How about River?" Pacificus offered, the name rolling off his tongue smoothly, evoking the flowing water where they found him.


    Merina shook her head gently. "It¡¯s too straightforward. We need something that captures his spirit, his strength and resilience."


    They both fell silent for a moment, the crackling fire the only sound in the room. The soft glow of the flames illuminated their faces, highlighting the deep thought in their expressions.


    "Torrent?" Merina finally proposed, her voice thoughtful. The name carried a sense of strength and resilience, much like the little fawn''s struggle and will to survive.


    Pacificus''s eyes sparkled with agreement. "Torrent... I like it. It suits him perfectly."


    The fawn, now nestled comfortably in Pacificus''s arms, seemed to relax even more, as if sensing the affection and care in their voices. Its small body felt warm and secure against Pacificus''s chest.


    "Torrent it is then," Merina said with a smile, glancing down at the sleeping fawn. The name felt right, resonating with the strength and determination they saw in the little creature.


    "Welcome to your new home, Torrent," Pacificus said softly, his voice filled with warmth and kindness. He gently carried the fawn closer to the fire, ensuring it was cozy and warm.


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    As they sat together by the fire, the storm raging outside, the room felt like a sanctuary. The flickering flames cast a soft, golden light, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth and security. The name "Torrent" echoed in their minds, a new addition to their small, intimate world.


    The howling blizzard outside seemed unrelenting, battering against the walls of Pacificus¡¯s home. The wind whistled through any tiny crevice it could find, but inside, the warmth of the fire and their company kept the cold at bay.


    Merina sighed, her breath mingling with the crackle of the fire. "Pacy... looks like I''ll be staying here until tomorrow. Mother Leto and the others will be worried."


    "Let¡¯s go tomorrow early then. I need to buy some things for Torrent anyway," Pacificus replied, his voice filled with a calm resolve.


    Merina rested her head on Pacificus''s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Yes, let''s do it," she agreed softly.


    "It''s nearing night and we haven''t had lunch... What do you want to eat?" Pacificus asked, looking down at her with a gentle smile.


    "Oh... I completely forgot," she replied with a shy smile. "I can''t be picky, Pacificus. It''s your home, I''m just your guest."


    Pacificus leaned in and gave her a tender kiss. "I didn¡¯t even realize how empty this home was... until you arrived."


    She blushed, her cheeks turning a soft pink. "L-l-let''s cook something together then. What do you have?" she stammered, her eyes shining with affection.


    "I was actually planning to cook some fresh fish for you before you went home, but... Torrent arrived," he said, glancing at the sleeping fawn.


    "Let''s feed Torrent too," Merina suggested, her voice filled with care.


    "Well... I have some pemmican, hardtacks, cockatrice eggs, and some beans, mushrooms, vegetables-"


    "Wait, Pacy... where and when did you get the cockatrice eggs?" Merina interrupted, her eyes wide with curiosity.


    "Well... every eight day, when you and the children are taking a break in town, I go to the Ever Resting Forest to gather some eggs," Pacificus explained, a hint of pride in his voice.


    "Monster eggs?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.


    "Well... yes," he admitted.


    "That''s dangerous," she said, worry evident in her tone.


    "I''m used to it, Rina, don''t worry. Many of my harvests are actually domesticated crops from the Ever Resting Forest."


    "Like the golems?" she inquired.


    "No... those golems were actually a gift from my dad''s mentor. He was a farmer too... A master-class farmer who specialized in soil nutrients and fertilization," Pacificus explained, his eyes reflecting the fire''s glow.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Oh... so you can make one?" Merina asked, curiosity piqued.


    "Sadly... no. All of my farming skills are still at the beginning and intermediate levels," he confessed, a hint of regret in his voice.


    "You really need to go to the temple," Merina urged, her voice filled with concern.


    "I can still wait for five more years, Rina... At least let me wait until Demether receives her blessings," Pacificus replied, his voice firm yet gentle.


    Merina returned his kiss, embracing him tightly. The kiss was long and passionate, filled with unspoken promises and deep affection. "You need to take care of yourself more, Pacy. You need to take care of your health and well-being too," she whispered against his lips.


    "I know, Rina. I know," he replied, holding her close.


    "After Artemis receives her blessing, you need to go to the temple. No, you don¡¯t have to wait for Artemis to go to the temple. You could go right now," she insisted, her voice filled with worry.


    "I¡¯ll miss spring," he said softly.


    "We¡¯ll take care of it for you," she reassured him.


    "No... I''ll wait for Artemis. I don''t want any of you to get hurt because of me," he replied, his voice resolute.


    "Pacy," she said, her voice filled with concern and love.


    "It¡¯s fine... I love you. I don¡¯t want anything bad to happen to you and your family," he said, his voice filled with determination and love.


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    "Oh, Pacy... We forgot to eat again," Merina said, a small laugh escaping her lips, breaking the tension.


    "Well, what should we eat?" Pacificus asked, his smile widening.


    "It''s cold... let''s make some stew," Merina suggested.


    "That is a great idea," Pacificus agreed.


    Placing the fawn near the warmth of the fireplace, Pacificus quickly headed to his basement, his footsteps gradually growing fainter as he descended the stairs. Merina watched the fawn curl up contentedly by the fire, its small body finally relaxing.


    After about half an hour, Pacificus returned with his arms full of a variety of vegetables. He had spinach, bell peppers, garlic, tomatoes, leafy greens, potatoes, mandrakes, vines and flowers from his man-eating plants, his homemade tomato jam, apple wine, hardtacks, and a large, pumpkin-like fruit.


    "What''s that, Pacy? Is that a pumpkin?" Merina asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.


    "Actually, no... it''s the fruit from the man-eating plants," Pacificus explained, setting everything down on the large wooden table.


    "I didn''t know they bore fruit... Your crops are really unique," Merina said, her admiration evident.


    "Thank you, Rina. Let''s cook some stew," Pacificus said, his eyes twinkling.


    "Yes," Merina replied with a smile.


    They set to work, their movements synchronized as they prepared the ingredients. Pacificus peeled and chopped the potatoes, spinach, bell peppers, and leafy greens, while Merina minced the garlic and mandrakes, careful to handle the latter with the respect they demanded due to their potent nature.


    Pacificus placed a large pot over the fire, pouring in some of his homemade apple wine, letting it heat up and reduce slightly. The sweet and tart aroma of the wine filled the room, mixing with the scent of burning wood from the fireplace.


    Merina added the minced garlic and mandrake to the pot, saut¨¦ing them until they were fragrant. She then added the chopped tomatoes and a dollop of Pacificus¡¯s tomato jam, stirring them together until they formed a thick, rich base for the stew. The fawn watched them curiously, its eyes following their every move.


    Pacificus diced the fruit from the man-eating plants, revealing its vibrant orange flesh. He handed a piece to Merina to taste. She took a bite, her eyes lighting up at the sweet and slightly spicy flavor.


    "This is amazing, Pacy! It¡¯s like a mix of pumpkin and chili," she exclaimed.


    "Glad you like it," Pacificus replied, adding the diced fruit to the pot.


    Next, they added the chopped vegetables, vines, and flowers from the man-eating plants. The mixture of ingredients created a colorful medley in the pot. Merina stirred it all together, adding water to cover the vegetables and a pinch of salt and herbs for seasoning.


    Pacificus broke the hardtacks into smaller pieces and added them to the stew, allowing them to soften and absorb the rich flavors of the broth. The final touch was a handful of freshly picked flowers, adding a delicate floral note to the stew.


    As the stew simmered, the aromas mingled and filled the room with a comforting warmth. Pacificus and Merina worked seamlessly together, their hands occasionally brushing as they passed ingredients or stirred the pot. The flickering flames of the fire danced in their eyes, reflecting the bond they were strengthening through this shared act of creation.


    Merina tasted the stew, a look of satisfaction spreading across her face. "It¡¯s perfect, Pacy," she said, her voice filled with warmth.


    "Thank you," Pacificus replied, his eyes softening as he gazed at her.


    They ladled the stew into bowls, the rich, hearty broth steaming invitingly. They set a small portion aside to cool for Torrent, ensuring the fawn would share in their meal. As they sat down by the fire to eat, the storm continued to rage outside, but inside, they were wrapped in the warmth of their home and the companionship they cherished.


    "Welcome to your new home, Torrent," Pacificus said softly, looking at the fawn as it nuzzled closer to the fire. The room, filled with the warm, flickering light of the hearth, felt even cozier with their new companion settled in.


    Torrent, drawn by the enticing aroma, approached the wooden bowl of stew. He took a tentative sip and quickly turned away, the hot liquid surprising him. After a moment, his curiosity got the better of him, and he returned to the bowl, taking cautious, small sips. Gradually, he began to eat in earnest, finishing the stew with evident satisfaction.


    "I think he likes it," Merina observed, her face lighting up with a smile.


    "I''m glad he does," Pacificus replied, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.


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    Merina watched the fawn thoughtfully. "Wait... do they eat bread? I¡¯ve never seen kirins eat bread."


    Pacificus picked up a piece of hardtack and offered it to Torrent. The fawn took a tentative bite, then paused, as if unsure of the unfamiliar texture.


    "Maybe it¡¯s too hard," Merina suggested, her concern evident as she watched Torrent¡¯s reaction closely.


    Just then, the couple heard a distinct cracking sound. It wasn''t bones breaking but the hardtack. The fawn''s strong teeth made short work of the tough bread, the sound of the hardtack breaking echoing through the room.


    Pacificus chuckled in amazement. "He''s got quite a bite," he observed, watching as Torrent chewed the hardtack with surprising ease.


    Merina smiled, her eyes filled with wonder. "He¡¯s full of surprises, isn¡¯t he?"


    As they watched Torrent continue to munch on the hardtack, Pacificus''s mind wandered back to when he first carried the fawn into the cabin. He recalled how close the fawn''s jaws had been to his face. "I''m glad he didn''t bite me," he said with a chuckle, the memory now tinged with relief.


    Merina nodded, her thoughts mirroring his. She remembered how she had touched the fawn while trying to calm it down, feeling its tension and power. "Me too," she replied softly. "He''s gentle now, but he could have easily hurt us."


    They both fell silent for a moment, the realization of their good fortune sinking in. The fawn, now more relaxed and at ease, continued to eat, unaware of the thoughts running through the minds of his newfound guardians.


    Inside the cabin, the glow of the fire cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety that contrasted sharply with the storm raging outside. The crackling of the firewood, the rhythmic chewing of the fawn, and the soft murmurs exchanged between Pacificus and Merina filled the air, enveloping them in a serene atmosphere amid the chaos beyond their shelter.


    Pacificus gently draped his arm around Merina, drawing her closer to him. "We¡¯ll take good care of him," he vowed, his voice brimming with determination as he observed Torrent chewing on the hardtacks he had offered.


    Merina nestled into his embrace, her gaze fixed tenderly on the fawn. "Yes, we will," she affirmed softly, her fingers unconsciously stroking Pacificus''s arm as they both watched Torrent enjoy his meal.


    ''So he won''t bite us'' the couple thought to themselves.


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    After Torrent had finished his meal, he nestled back near the warmth of the fireplace, his breathing steady and content. Pacificus and Merina exchanged a glance and quietly approached the door, curious about the severity of the storm outside.


    As they cracked open the door, the bitter cold wind rushed in, carrying with it swirling snowflakes that stung their faces. The darkness outside was almost oppressive, and the howling wind seemed to mock their attempts to peer into the blizzard.


    "Do you think there''s a tornado out there?" Merina asked, her voice barely audible over the wind.


    "Hopefully not," Pacificus replied, squinting into the darkness. "If it''s this bad, my crops won''t stand a chance, and the seeds I''ve planted will be scattered."


    They closed the door quickly, shutting out the fierce elements. Inside the cabin, the fire crackled, casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls, providing a stark contrast to the harshness of the storm.


    "Rina, why don''t you sleep on my bed? I''ll take the floor," Pacificus suggested, concern evident in his voice.


    "No, Pacy," Merina insisted, shaking her head. "You should sleep on your bed. I''ll be fine on the floor."


    They exchanged a playful argument, each insisting that the other deserved the bed, until finally, they relented and decided to share the small bed, squeezing themselves together to conserve warmth. The bed, meant for one person, now held both of them snugly wrapped in blankets.


    "Is it still too cold, Rina?" Pacificus asked softly, pulling her closer.


    "Y-yes," she admitted, shivering slightly. "Why is it so cold? Winter just started."


    "I''ll add more wood to the fire," Pacificus promised, slipping out of bed briefly to tend to the hearth.


    "T-Torrent... how is he?" Merina inquired, her voice tinged with worry.


    The couple turned their attention to the sleeping fawn by the fire. Torrent lay peacefully, undisturbed by the storm raging outside or the chill creeping into the cabin.


    "He seems fine," Pacificus reassured her, returning to bed and wrapping his arms around her. "It makes sense, Rina. Kirins usually find shelter in forests, often digging tunnels or finding caves to rest in."


    Merina, her cheeks flushed with a mix of cold and the warmth of their shared embrace, nodded in silent agreement, finding solace in the safety of Pacificus''s arms as they settled in for the night. The crackling of the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the room, creating a cozy haven in the midst of the biting cold that seeped through the cabin walls.


    Despite the physical closeness that brought their hearts racing and their minds swirling with unspoken desires, an unspoken tension lingered between them. The weight of their mutual affection hung heavy in the air, intertwining with a palpable sense of restraint that held them back from surrendering to the intimacy of sleep.


    Pacificus, a man in the prime of his twenties, exuded a quiet strength that belied the turmoil in his mind. His gaze, filled with both love and apprehension, caressed Merina''s features as he grappled with the overwhelming fear of what their love could potentially bring. The thought of risking her well-being, of potentially altering the course of their lives with a single moment of passion, gnawed at his resolve. He couldn''t bear the idea of jeopardizing their future together, a future he envisioned with Merina at his side, cherished and safe.


    Merina, too, found herself ensnared in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. Her heart soared with the depth of her feelings for Pacificus, yet the shadow of uncertainty loomed large in her mind. The fear of moving too fast, of the unknown consequences that their actions might bring, whispered doubts that clouded her usually clear judgment. The prospect of a future with Pacificus both thrilled and terrified her, each possibility sparking a cascade of emotions that left her breathless.


    In the midst of this emotional tempest, Pacificus''s gentle voice cut through the silence, breaking the tension that bound them. "Rina?" he murmured, his tone soft with tenderness and a hint of resolve.


    Her heart leaped in her chest, uncertainty giving way to a rush of anticipation. "YES, I WILL," she blurted out, her voice filled with a mix of eagerness and trepidation.


    A simple offer followed, a lifeline in the sea of their unspoken fears. "You want some tea?" Pacificus suggested, his eyes meeting hers with a warmth that mirrored the flickering flames before them.


    "T-tea?" Merina stammered, her surprise evident as she considered his proposal.


    "Yes," he affirmed, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Let''s have some tea. It will warm us from the inside out. I have some herbs that will help."


    Relief flooded through her, gratitude mingling with a newfound sense of closeness. "That''s a great idea, Pacy," she replied, her voice soft with emotion.


    As they drew nearer to the crackling fireplace, the warmth enveloped them like a comforting embrace, the flickering flames casting a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow over their entwined forms. Pacificus, with a determined yet gentle air about him, set about preparing a simple remedy to dispel the chill that clung to the cabin walls.


    With practiced ease, he filled a sturdy pot with fresh, cold water, the metal clinking softly against the wooden surface as he placed it on the grate above the flames. The fire crackled and popped, sending tendrils of heat spiraling upwards, eager to aid in the transformation that was to come.


    Beside him lay an assortment of herbs, each chosen with care and purpose. A delicate flower from the man-eating plant, its petals a vibrant hue of crimson, added a touch of exotic allure to the mix. Fragrant gingers, their knobbly roots yielding a spicy warmth, awaited their turn to infuse the water with their piquant essence. A small barrel of golden honey promised a sweet counterpoint to the herbal symphony that was about to unfold. And lastly, sprigs of fresh peppermint, their leaves verdant and aromatic, stood ready to impart a refreshing note to the brew.


    As the water began to murmur and bubble, a soft steam rising in wisps of fragrant mist, Pacificus carefully added a pinch of each herb, his movements deliberate and precise. The rich scents mingled in the air, intertwining in a dance of aromas that spoke of warmth and comfort, of healing and renewal.


    The flower from the man-eating plant unfurled its petals in a silent offering, releasing a heady perfume that hinted at secrets long forgotten. The gingers lent their fiery spirit to the mix, infusing the water with a spicy kick that promised to banish the chill from their bones. A dollop of honey, amber-hued and glistening in the firelight, added a touch of sweetness to the brew, a reminder of the simple joys that could be found even in the midst of uncertainty. And finally, the peppermint leaves, crushed gently between Pacificus''s fingers, released a burst of cool, mentholated freshness that lifted the spirits and invigorated the senses.


    As the tea steeped, Pacificus and Merina sat close to the crackling fireplace, their wooden cups cradled in their hands, the steam rising in wisps of fragrant mist that curled around their faces. The colors of the brew deepened from a pale hue to a rich amber, infused with the essence of the herbs and honey, each sip a warm embrace that eased the tension in their bodies.


    The fire whispered softly, its gentle hiss a backdrop to the quiet clink of the spoon stirring the pot. The aroma of the tea, a blend of spicy ginger, refreshing peppermint, and the exotic perfume of the man-eating plant''s flower, enveloped them in a cocoon of comfort. It filled the room with a soothing fragrance that seemed to banish the cold of the blizzard raging outside.


    Merina took a sip, closing her eyes momentarily to savor the warmth spreading through her. The tea was invigorating yet calming, its flavors mingling on her palate in a symphony of tastes that mirrored the complexities of their emotions. Beside her, Pacificus watched her with a soft smile, his own cup cradled in his hands as he too found solace in the simple act of drinking tea.


    Torrent, nestled close to the fire, slept peacefully, oblivious to the world outside the cabin. The flickering flames cast gentle shadows across the room, dancing on the walls like silent companions to the couple''s quiet communion. In that moment, as they savored the tea together, their hearts found a temporary respite from the turmoil of their thoughts and the uncertainties of the storm.


    The wooden cups, warmed by their grasp, served as vessels not just for the tea but for their shared hopes and fears, their unspoken desires and the unbreakable bond that had grown between them. Each sip brought them closer, grounding them in the present, offering a sanctuary of peace amidst the chaos of their lives.


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    As they drank the tea, its warmth spread through their bodies, chasing away the chill that had seeped into their bones. The room seemed to hold its breath, cocooning them in a quiet intimacy as the storm outside raged on, its fury echoing faintly against the sturdy walls of the cabin.


    The crackling fire cast a gentle glow, casting flickering shadows that danced across the wooden beams above. The aroma of the tea lingered in the air, a soothing blend of spices and sweetness that filled the room with a comforting embrace. Each sip they took was a moment of respite, a pause in the tumultuous night that allowed them to find solace in each other''s company.


    As the tea warmed them from within, Pacificus and Merina found themselves drawn closer to the fireplace. They set their empty cups aside, their hands lingering together for a moment longer before they moved to prepare for sleep. With a tenderness born of unspoken understanding, they arranged blankets on the floor near the hearth, creating a makeshift bed where they could rest together.


    The blankets enveloped them, offering warmth and softness as they settled down side by side. Pacificus pulled Merina close, his arms wrapping around her protectively, while she nestled against his chest, her head resting gently on his shoulder. The firelight painted their faces with a gentle glow, casting a serene atmosphere over the scene.


    Outside, the wind howled and the snow continued to fall, but inside the cabin, there was only the quiet crackling of the fire and the steady rhythm of their breathing. Their bodies pressed close together, seeking comfort and reassurance in the closeness they shared.


    As they drifted off to sleep, the storm''s tumult faded into the background, replaced by the steady heartbeat of their intertwined lives. In the warmth of their embrace, they found peace, knowing that together they could weather any storm that life might bring.

 Chapter 10: Ritual of Blessing

    The couple woke to a world transformed by the night''s storm. As they rose from their makeshift bed near the fireplace, they moved towards the door of Pacificus''s small hut. With the door creaking open, they were greeted by a scene of ethereal beauty.


    Outside, the landscape was now cloaked in a thick layer of pristine white snow, untouched and sparkling under the early morning sunlight. The snow had blanketed everything in sight, from the ground to the roofs of nearby structures and the surrounding trees, turning the entire world into a serene winter wonderland.


    The air was still and cold, with each breath forming tiny clouds that dissipated into the crisp morning air. The silence was interrupted only by the faint sound of melting icicles dripping from the eaves and the occasional rustle of snow falling from the branches.


    Inside the hut, the warmth of the previous night''s fire still lingered, though the flames had long since dwindled to embers. The dim light cast shadows across the rough-hewn wooden walls and simple furnishings, contrasting with the bright, snowy landscape visible through the open doorway.


    Merina and Pacificus stood side by side, their hands clasped together, taking in the breathtaking sight before them. Despite the cold that seeped through their clothing, they felt a deep sense of peace and awe at the beauty of the winter morning.


    Before venturing outside, Pacificus and Merina prepared Torrent for the cold. They fashioned a sturdy leash from supple leather, ensuring it wouldn''t chafe or stress the young kirin. Merina''s skill in quickly crafting a harness from spare materials impressed Pacificus, who watched with admiration as she gently fitted it over Torrent''s sleek coat, mindful not to tighten it too much.


    Once prepared, they stepped outside into a transformed world. The hut''s single window, lacking glass, had kept them shielded from the storm''s full force, but now they faced a landscape blanketed in snow. The air was crisp and biting, every breath turning into a visible puff of mist in the frigid morning air. The sun, a faint glow behind heavy clouds, struggled to cast any warmth upon the frozen land.


    Torrent, curious and energetic, immediately tested the leash, attempting to dart away before being gently restrained by the harness. To encourage the fawn to follow without resistance, Pacificus tied a basket filled with vegetables to his back. Merina, holding the basket''s handle, enticed Torrent with the promise of food, using it to guide the kirin along as they made their way toward a nearby shack.


    The shack stood weathered but sturdy, its exterior covered with thick fur pelts. It promised a temporary refuge from the biting cold, a place to warm themselves and regroup before venturing further. As they trudged through the snow, each step sinking deep into the powdery drifts, Merina and Pacificus struggled against the resistance of the icy terrain, their boots disappearing almost up to Merina''s knees with each stride.


    Torrent, however, seemed unfazed by the snow. His slender legs and nimble hooves navigated the wintry landscape effortlessly, leaving barely a trace in the pristine white carpet beneath them. With each graceful step, he followed Merina''s gentle guidance, occasionally pausing to nibble on the vegetables dangling from Pacificus''s basket.


    Thanks to Pacificus''s sturdy frame and determination, he pushed open the door of the shack, the accumulated snow giving way with a soft crunch underfoot. The interior greeted them with a rustic warmth, the walls lined with thick fur pelts that offered a stark contrast to the icy landscape outside. Merina''s eyes scanned the modest interior, her breath forming tiny clouds in the air as she took in the comforting sight of the fur-lined walls.


    Inside, a variety of furs were neatly arranged, each offering its own promise of warmth against the biting chill. With deft hands, Merina set about outfitting Pacificus and herself in the available furs. She draped a luxurious pelt over Pacificus''s shoulders, skillfully arranging it to resemble a crafted winter coat despite its humble origin. The fur, still carrying a faint scent of the wild, enveloped him in its cozy embrace, providing a shield against the cold that seeped through the cracks of the shack.


    As Merina adjusted the furs, Pacificus prepared their sturdy cart for the journey to town. Crafted from robust wood and reinforced with metal fittings, it stood ready outside, its wheels creaking softly as he readied it for their trek through the snow. Beside him, Merina deftly fashioned a makeshift harness for Torrent, ensuring the fawn would travel comfortably as a passenger alongside her.


    With meticulous care, Pacificus loaded the cart with steel weapons and armor destined for the blacksmiths. Despite his efforts to distribute the weight evenly, each piece added caused the cart to sink deeper into the pristine snow. The wheels groaned under the strain, leaving deep furrows in the soft powder that marked their passage through the wintry landscape.


    Undeterred by the sinking cart, Pacificus pressed on with determined strides. His boots, now dusted with snow, left broad imprints in the path ahead, each step a testament to his strength and resolve. Merina watched in admiration, struck by his steadfast determination and the transformative power of the snow-covered surroundings.


    The familiar road they traveled, flanked by tall, snow-laden trees and occasional glimpses of familiar landmarks, appeared transformed by winter''s touch. The once-familiar landscape now wore a cloak of white, softening the edges of everything it touched. Branches drooped under the weight of snow, casting long, graceful shadows on the path. The air shimmered with a quiet serenity, broken only by the occasional creak of the cart and the soft whispers of the breeze.


    Merina marveled at how the snow had altered their usual route, turning it into a new and enchanting journey. Every turn revealed a landscape painted in shades of white and gray, the world hushed and still under winter''s spell. Despite the challenges posed by the deepening snow, Pacificus guided the cart with skill and determination, his focus unwavering as they navigated this transformed winter wonderland.


    With Torrent settled and Merina snugly wrapped in her fur-lined attire, they set off toward the town. The pristine snow offered a challenge with each turn of the cart''s wheels. Pacificus led the way, his boots leaving deep imprints in the powdery snow, while Merina sat on the cart, her gloved hands occasionally brushing the fawn''s fur for reassurance.


    Together, they navigated the winter landscape, their breaths visible in the cold air, the quiet crunch of snow beneath the cart''s wheels punctuating the otherwise serene silence.


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    It didn''t take long for Pacificus to reach the gates of the town. As they approached, he noticed the guards stationed there looked unusually small. Their oversized armor and dragging fur coats made them appear even smaller against the backdrop of the snow-covered landscape. The guards carried their weapons¡ªspears and shields¡ªas if they were still too heavy for them.


    Upon closer inspection, Pacificus realized the guards were very young, appearing no older than ten. Their youthful faces were flushed with the cold, their breath visible in the chilly air.


    "Why is it so cold?" one of the young guards complained, shivering. "W-winter just started."


    "S-shut up," replied the other guard, her voice feminine and trembling.


    Pacificus and Merina exchanged a look but said nothing as they passed the young guards, who didn''t even bother to check them.


    Their first stop was the orphanage. In front of the building, an old lady, her helpers, and several children were busy moving snow away from the entrance. The old lady''s lined face spoke of years of hard work and resilience. She directed the children with gentle authority, her voice carrying above the sounds of scraping shovels and the children''s chatter. The helpers, bundled in thick coats, worked alongside the children, creating pathways through the deep snow.


    "Mother Leto," Merina called out as she ran towards the elderly woman who had lovingly adopted her. Her boots sank into the deep snow with each hurried step. Meanwhile, Pacificus grabbed hold of Torrent''s harness, guiding the young kirin fawn who followed eagerly, likely expecting another meal.


    "Mother Rina is back!" shouted one of the children, excitement bubbling in their voice.


    "Oh, it''s Mother Rina!" echoed the others, their faces lighting up with joy.


    The old lady, her face softening with a loving smile, opened her arms to receive the embrace of her adopted daughter.


    "I''m sorry I didn''t return yesterday," Merina said, her voice filled with relief and apology. "There was this sudden blizzard."


    "Oh yes, that made us really worried," the old lady replied, her tone gently scolding. "Especially when all the men just marched out towards battle."


    "¡­What? Marched out? Mother, what do you mean, marched out?" Merina''s voice was filled with confusion and concern.


    "You probably didn''t know it," Mother Leto said with a sigh, her expression heavy with worry.


    "Mother Leto... Where is Father Lelantos? Where is Klaus? In fact... where are all the boys?" Merina''s voice wavered as she looked around, noticing the absence of the familiar faces of the men she cared about.


    Leto sighed deeply, the children around them looking down, their earlier excitement replaced by a somber mood.


    "Mother Rina," said Apollo "when you were away, the Lord ordered all of the men to mobilize for an attack or something... I really don''t know."


    "The Lord¡­ when?" Merina''s voice was barely a whisper, her mind racing.


    "Just a few minutes after you went away, dear," Leto explained gently. "We were going to tell you after you returned, but you didn''t."


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    Pacificus looked around, taking in the sight of the town. The absence of men was glaringly apparent; only women and children moved about, tending to their daily tasks. He realized with a start that he was the only man present within the town''s boundaries.


    "Did the Lord go with them?" Pacificus asked, his voice heavy with concern.


    "He claimed that he would lead the way," Mother Leto replied, shaking her head slightly. "Though... I doubt that fat man can actually lead a war. His guards and generals looked capable, at least."


    Both Merina and Pacificus frowned at her answer, their worry deepening.


    "Anyway, Merina, Pacificus, have you had breakfast yet?" Mother Leto asked, her old face breaking into a gentle smile.


    "We did, actually. Some leftover stew," Merina answered.


    "But you two could always eat. Come, my children, especially you, young man," she pointed at Pacificus. "These ingredients come from your farm, after all."


    The two shared a quick breakfast it was a dish, carrots, potatoes, vegetables cut neatly and placed in a circular pattern and covered in a beautiful and mouth watering red sauce. Pacificus''s eyes widened as he took a bite, savoring the flavors.


    "What is this dish?" he asked, amazed.


    Mother Leto grinned. "That, my dear, is a dish from the northwest called ratatouille." Her eyes were gentle as she looked at Pacificus. "I heard you''ve been feeding my children from your farm, so I think it is best to return the favor, young man."


    "Thank you, Mother Leto. It is delicious."


    "Oh my, getting praised by a young man for my cooking... he he he. It fills me with pride. I was a farmer before I became a priestess, after all."


    Pacificus looked at the old woman, confused. "Can''t you be both?" he genuinely asked.


    "I''m afraid not. But being a priestess has its own quirks. For one, your lifespan is increased. Two, you can cast healing magic more effectively. And three, I can perform the ritual of blessings for anyone with the same faith."


    "Oh... it is different from mine."


    "Yes, my child. Merina here told me that you are also a monk. What difference does it make?"


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Nothing... the voice told me I can also perform the ritual of blessing for anyone with the same faith... but I haven''t really practiced it."


    The old woman looked at him with a mixture of pity and amazement. She gave him a warm smile. "I hope you visit your temple soon, young man. You need to receive your blessings sooner or later... who knows, you might gain another level."


    "I''m still level one, actually."


    Merina did not react, but Leto and her other children nearly had their jaws drop to the floor. Merina had told them how Pacificus had beaten a group of assassins, forcing them not to return. The fact that Pacificus had accomplished this while still being level one meant he had done so with pure skill¡ªnot the abilities granted by the Voice of Creation, but his raw, honed skills developed throughout his life.


    After that, Merina decided to stay at the orphanage. The warmth and familiarity of the place provided a comforting solace amidst the ongoing turmoil. Meanwhile, the children were utterly captivated by Torrent, the young kirin fawn.


    Gathered around the fawn, the children eagerly offered him a variety of vegetables and leaves. Torrent, though initially confused by the abundance of food, accepted their offerings. His strong jaws made quick work of the vegetables, the crunching sounds echoing through the orphanage courtyard. The children watched in awe as he chewed, occasionally reaching out to touch his soft fur. Torrent, preoccupied with his meal, did not mind their curious hands.


    Artemis, holding the reins, passed them to Apollo, her eyes wide with wonder. The fawn''s gentle nature and exotic appearance fascinated her. "What is he?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.


    "Mother Rina told me he was a kirin," Apollo replied, his gaze never leaving the fawn.


    "What is a kirin?" Artemis questioned further, her brow furrowing in thought.


    "I don''t know. We are looking at one, I guess," Apollo responded, shrugging slightly.


    "Is he a dragon or a deer?" Artemis pondered aloud, her eyes tracing the unique features of the fawn.


    "Mother Rina says it was a horse-like dragon," Apollo explained, trying to recall the details Merina had shared.


    "I see the dragon but not the horse," Artemis observed, tilting her head as she scrutinized Torrent''s form.


    "Me too, sis," Apollo agreed, both of them nodding in unison.


    The children continued to feed Torrent, delighting in the simple joy of interacting with the mythical creature. The fawn, now more relaxed and accustomed to their presence, nibbled on the vegetables they offered, occasionally nudging them with his nose in appreciation.


    Pacificus, pulling his cart through the thick snow, headed toward the local blacksmith''s forge. He anticipated seeing the blacksmith''s wife, as her husband and the other men had gone off to battle. Approaching the forge, he was surprised to see their young son hard at work. The boy, no older than ten, stood before the anvil, his small frame dwarfed by the heavy hammer in his hand. Despite his youth, there was a fire in his eyes, a determination that belied his age. His brown skin, already covered in soot, was partially hidden by an oversized apron. Each strike of his hammer was precise yet showed room for growth and improvement.


    The boy noticed Pacificus and quickly straightened, wiping sweat from his brow with a forearm. "What can I do for you, sir?" he asked politely. It was only then that Pacificus took a closer look at the child. The boy didn''t resemble his father much but bore a striking resemblance to his mother, with bronze skin, curly brown hair, and piercing green eyes. He looked like an Aserai, just like Pacificus''s mother.


    "Are you the child of...ahh... what was his name again... the blacksmith here?" Pacificus asked, his mind momentarily blanking on the man''s name.


    "Yes, sir. My name is Kaveh, son of Fornax," the boy replied with a touch of pride.


    "Yes, that''s his name." Pacificus cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Can I trade with you?"


    Kaveh looked a bit uncertain. "Trade what, sir?"


    "I-I-I need a huge cauldron. A very large one in exchange." Pacificus lifted a barrel from his cart, revealing an assortment of weapons and armor. "You can have these."


    The boy''s eyes widened in astonishment, like he was looking at a chest of treasures. "Wait a minute, sir. I need to call my mom."


    Kaveh dashed inside, and moments later, a woman emerged, bundled in thick fur and a shawl. Only her eyes were visible, but even through the layers, Pacificus could sense her presence and authority. He was aware of Aserai traditions, though his mother did not strictly adhere to them.


    "Mr. Pacificus, what brings you here?" she asked, her voice warm but curious.


    "He-hello. C-can I have a trade?" Pacificus stammered, slightly overwhelmed by her aura.


    She removed the shawl from her face, revealing her beauty. It was clear that Kaveh had inherited much of her looks. She approached the barrel, picking up a sword. With a graceful motion, she swung the blade, testing its balance. It looked almost like a dance. "This is a knight''s blade," she remarked, inspecting it closely. "From the count of¡ªwait a minute? Where did you get this? This is the Rose of Aquitaine. Only level three knights have this blade."


    "I-I beat the knight in a duel and he left me his sword," Pacificus explained.


    She raised her brows, clearly impressed. "I''ll accept because the steel is good. We can turn this into something else."


    She continued to inspect each weapon and piece of armor meticulously, nodding with approval at the craftsmanship.


    "So, Mr. Pacificus, what do you want with all of this metal?"


    "A cauldron... a big one... a really big one," Pacificus replied.


    She paused, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "That''s it? No bronze, silver, or gold? Just a cauldron for cooking?"


    "Yes," he affirmed.


    She chuckled softly. "This trade feels unfair, and that is me talking, Mr. Pacificus. I tell you what, I''ll give you a ladle for that cauldron to make the deal fair."


    "That would be appreciated," Pacificus replied, grateful for her generosity.


    The exchange concluded, Pacificus left the forge with a large cauldron and a sturdy ladle.


    "Do you feel it, son?" The mother''s voice carried a mix of pride and contemplation as she spoke to her child.


    "Yes," the young blacksmith replied earnestly. "He is strong... really strong."


    "That''s because his mother is a sword maiden," she explained softly.


    The young boy''s eyes widened in awe. "He''s a warrior from the south too?"


    "No, son. He''s a farmer, just like his father. Though I don''t blame you for thinking that... he''s just that strong."


    "H-how could that be?" Kaveh asked, struggling to comprehend.


    The woman smiled warmly. "Your father is a blacksmith, not a warrior, yet he defeated a knight in a duel with swords. How many times do I have to remind you, son? Don''t judge a customer by their chosen profession."


    "I understand, Mom," Kaveh replied, nodding solemnly.


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    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    When Pacificus returned to the orphanage, he found a flurry of activity unfolding around him. Children darted about, running laps through the snowy streets, their laughter echoing against the wooden walls of the orphanage. Apollo and Artemis, the children he had given bows to, were deeply focused on learning to draw them, their small fingers grappling with the tension of the strings. Nearby, Hyankinthos practiced his punches on a sturdy punching bag, his movements determined and precise for a boy his age.


    The adults were engaged in the arduous task of clearing snow from the roofs of the orphanage. They worked diligently, mindful to keep the children away from the dangerous job. Instead, the majority of the younger ones had gathered around Torrent, the Kirin fawn, feeding him various vegetables and leaves. Some were brave enough to tentatively pet him, their hands brushing against his soft fur and scales. Despite their attention, Torrent seemed unfazed, either too bewildered or too sated to protest. His large eyes blinked lazily as he accepted the treats offered to him.


    Spotting Merina walking with her mother toward a small, round building¡ªa temple¡ªPacificus decided to give them privacy. He turned his attention back to Torrent, settling beside the fawn.


    Instantly, a swarm of curious children surrounded him, firing off questions with unbridled enthusiasm.


    "Brother Pacificus, what is a Kirin?"


    "Where did you get Torrent?"


    "What does Torrent eat?"


    "How big can Torrent grow?"


    "Is Torrent a boy or a girl?"


    Pacificus chuckled softly at their barrage of inquiries, kneeling down to be at eye level with them. Each question sparked a discussion, with Pacificus patiently explaining what he knew about Kirins, recounting the story of finding Torrent in the woods, and detailing the fawn''s preference for various foods. He described the potential size Kirins could reach, though he admitted he wasn''t entirely sure about Torrent''s future growth.


    The children listened intently, their imaginations sparked by the mysterious creature in their midst. Some eagerly shared their own theories and stories about mythical beasts they had heard of, while others simply marveled at the idea of having a Kirin as part of their orphanage community. For Pacificus, it was heartening to see their curiosity and excitement, knowing that Torrent had found a place where he could be both cherished and admired.


    <hr>


    Inside the ancient temple, the air was thick with the scent of incense and the hushed whispers of sacred rituals. Merina knelt reverently before the statue of a woman, her features serene and bathed in the flickering light of the torch that the venerable priestess Leto had set alight.


    This was a familiar scene, a ritual repeated countless times, each instance a testament to the bond between priestess and goddess. With practiced grace, Merina shed her garments, the act devoid of shame or embarrassment, for within these hallowed walls, nudity was not a mark of immodesty but a symbol of purity and devotion.


    "Oh, my child," Leto''s voice, soft and wise, broke the stillness of the chamber. "Since when was the last time we checked your blessings?"


    Merina''s voice, tinged with a hint of regret, carried a note of acknowledgment. "The last time I checked was a year ago... I think? We''ve been too busy, mother."


    "Indeed," Leto sighed, her expression reflecting the weight of the trials they had faced. "This ritual should be done monthly... but we faced a lot of hardships this year."


    "Indeed," Merina agreed, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "But not all of it is bad, I guess."


    Leto''s smile, a reflection of maternal pride and affection, softened her features. "Now, my child, go to the water as usual," she instructed, her touch gentle as she guided Merina towards the pool that awaited her.


    Despite the chill that lingered in the air outside, the water within the temple''s sacred pool was warm, inviting, and pure. Merina took a deep breath, the scent of herbs and sacred oils mingling with the steam that rose from the surface, and submerged herself in its embrace. The water, a caress against her skin, enveloped her in a sensation of cleansing and renewal.


    Emerging from the pool, her skin glistening with droplets of water, Merina knew the next step in the ritual. She knelt before the statue of the goddess Vesta, the torch''s flame casting a warm glow that seemed to seep into her very being.


    Behind her, Leto''s touch upon her back was gentle, yet it carried a weight of ancient wisdom and power. A myriad of colors and lights danced across Merina''s skin, forming intricate patterns that glowed with the essence of creation and the blessings of Vesta. These runes, symbols of divine favor and protection, were a language known only to the priestesses of Vesta''s faith, a sacred gift that they held close to their hearts and souls.


    In the sacred chamber, the atmosphere was charged with a mix of anticipation and revelation as Mother Leto delivered what seemed to be a momentous message to Merina. The runes, ancient symbols of divine communication, had spoken of a profound transformation within her, leading to a playful yet startling revelation.


    "Oh my," Leto''s voice rang out, a hint of mischief dancing in her tone. "Rina... the runes told me that you are pregnant."


    The words hit Merina like a bolt of lightning, her initial reaction a mix of shock and panic. "WHAT? THAT CAN''T BE!" she exclaimed, her heart racing with a surge of emotions.


    But before the tension could fully take hold, Leto''s laughter filled the chamber, a hearty sound that echoed off the stone walls. "Just kidding! He he he he!" she teased, the humor evident in her voice as she reveled in her daughter''s momentary distress.


    "MOM!" Merina''s protest was a mix of relief and exasperation, the tension dissipating like mist in the morning sun.


    "Anyway, my child," Leto''s demeanor shifted back to one of wisdom and guidance. "The runes told me that the gift of experience has elevated your body to greater heights. Close your eyes, my child, and look at your runes... You have grown."


    With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, Merina complied, closing her eyes to seek the truth that awaited her within the depths of her being.


    As she gazed upon the ethereal canvas of her inner self, the runes shimmered and coalesced into a vision of clarity and purpose.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.9817%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9829%" colspan="2">Merina Cl¨ªodhna Leto (II) Journeyman Tailor</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9829%" colspan="2">Tailor (Advanced Journeyman)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9829%" colspan="2">Blessing: VESTA''S FLAME: Every time an invader invades the blessed one''s home, the blessed 0ne becomes stronger.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9829%" colspan="2">Design Philosophy: SOUL BOUND GROWTH (Unique): The clothes made by Merina Cl¨ªodhna Leto have the potential to grow stronger over time. The strength of her creations heavily depends on the user''s gifts.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Strength</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Dexterity</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Agility</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Speed</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Stamina</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Vigor</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9829%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Main Skills:</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Tailor (Journeyman)</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Mending (Journeyman Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Measurements (Senior Advance)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Proportions (Senior Advance)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Sewing (Journeyman Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Fabric Construction (Journeyman Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Yarn Making (Journeyman Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Leatherworks (Journeyman Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Cotton Works (Journeyman Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Chainmail (Apprentice Basic)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Knitting (Journeyman Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Tailor''s Intuition (Senior Advance)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9914%">Soul Weaving (Unique)</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    A surge of joy and realization flooded through her, lifting her spirits to new heights. "I thought I was imagining it when the voice whispered to me, but I wasn''t," Merina exclaimed with a mix of excitement and disbelief. "I finally found my design philosophy. And it''s unique... I have a unique ability."


    Leto''s chuckle, a melodic sound that carried the weight of years of wisdom, underscored the moment. "Now then, my child, how do you want to spend the gifts of potential?"


    Merina, caught in a whirlwind of newfound purpose, fell into deep contemplation. "I guess I''ll spend it more in dexterity and stamina, I guess," she mused, her mind already racing with possibilities and plans.


    A mischievous grin crept onto Leto''s lips as she teased, "Stamina?... My dear, is he too much for you?"


    Confusion clouded Merina. "What?" she asked.


    Leto''s grin faded, replaced by a more somber expression. "Forget it, you are still a maiden after all," she remarked, her words carrying a mix of teasing and gentle guidance.

 Chapter 11: Preparation for the Big Day

    After the ritual, Merina ran towards Pacificus with an infectious exuberance. She moved swiftly through the snow, her boots sinking into the powder with each step, yet she paid no mind to the cold biting at her cheeks. As she reached him, she flung herself into his arms, her body radiating warmth and excitement.


    Pacificus embraced her tightly, a soft smile forming on his lips as he held her close. "How did it go, Rina?" he asked, his voice gentle and full of curiosity.


    Merina pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I have a unique skill now," she announced, her voice brimming with pride.


    "That''s great," Pacificus replied, his grin widening. He could feel the energy of her accomplishment radiating off her in waves.


    "And I''ve also increased the potential of my dexterity and stamina," she added, her enthusiasm undimmed. "Now I can sew more clothes, faster and better."


    Her attention then shifted to Torrent, the kirin fawn standing nearby, still nibbling on the grass and acorns provided by the children. "Hello there, Torrent," she cooed, reaching out to pet the fawn with a tender touch.


    Torrent, content and well-fed, didn''t react much to the greeting. The fawn continued to chew leisurely, his eyes half-closed in a state of serene satisfaction. The children nearby watched with fascination as Merina''s hand glided over Torrent''s smooth fur, their own excitement bubbling over at the sight of the gentle interaction.


    But alas, the couple had to part ways. Pacificus returned to his home, with Torrent hungrily following him, while Merina chose to stay with her family at the orphanage. It was her way of compensating for her extended absence. They agreed to meet again the following morning, but until then, both would be consumed with their own demanding routines.


    At home, Pacificus set about his chores with characteristic determination. He began by plowing the snow around his property, each shoveled mound a testament to his strength and diligence. The multiple roofs of his house needed to be cleared of the accumulating snow to prevent any potential damage. Despite the biting cold, he worked steadily, the rhythmic scrape of the shovel against the wooden shingles echoing in the crisp air.


    Torrent, meanwhile, busied himself with the assortment of vegetables Pacificus had laid out for him. The kirin fawn munched contentedly, the crunching of the vegetables blending with the distant sound of Pacificus''s labor.


    Once the snow was cleared, Pacificus moved on to organizing his storage spaces. He had five of them, each packed with tools, supplies, and various pieces of equipment essential for the upkeep of his farm. He meticulously sorted through the items, ensuring everything was in its proper place and easily accessible. The cold air nipped at his fingers, but he paid it no mind, his focus unwavering.


    Next, he turned his attention to the maintenance of his tools and equipment. Each item, from the simplest hoe to the more complex mechanisms of his water wheel, received his careful inspection and necessary repairs. The water wheel, in particular, demanded his attention. He checked the wooden planks along the river, which served as pots, and moved them back to storage before the river completely froze over. It was a race against time, but Pacificus''s efficiency ensured everything was secured before the ice claimed its grip.


    Meanwhile, Merina was equally occupied with her duties at the orphanage. She had her own set of chores and ongoing projects to manage. Her responsibilities extended to her role at the temple, where she attended to the spiritual needs of the community. Additionally, she cared for the children at the orphanage, a task made more demanding by the recent arrival of three new infants¡ªtwo twins and a baby girl.


    With the adult staff reduced due to the men being sent to the frontlines, Merina''s workload had increased significantly. She juggled her time between feeding, changing, and comforting the infants, while also overseeing the older children''s activities and education. The temple duties added another layer of responsibility, requiring her to balance the sacred with the everyday.


    <hr>


    A month had passed, and the once bustling town now seemed eerily quiet, its streets mostly deserted save for women and children. In the early morning light, the town''s gate was guarded by children no older than ten. Their fur coats, adjusted to fit them properly, provided warmth, but their armor was another matter entirely. Oversized gambesons and chainmail draped over their small frames, while helmets required constant adjustment to keep their vision clear. The children had even replaced the standard shields with improvised halberds, essentially spears fitted with axe heads, for better maneuverability.


    A tall man, clad in a well-made fur jacket, walked these quiet streets. His garments, a testament to skilled craftsmanship, fit him perfectly. His destination was the orphanage, where he could see children in fur jackets busily attending to their chores with remarkable speed and efficiency.


    "Mother Rina," one of the children called out, "Big Brother Pacy is already here."


    Pacificus made his way to the orphanage, Torrent trotting behind him. The kirin fawn, now the size of a donkey, had undergone quite a transformation. His once scaly hide was now covered in a thick layer of white fur, and his belly had grown noticeably round¡ªhe had become quite plump. The children''s hands often found their way to Torrent''s soft fur, petting him affectionately. The fawn didn''t seem to mind; he appeared domesticated and content.


    On Pacificus''s back was a large bundle containing hard tack, vegetables, potatoes, and other food supplies for the orphanage. Despite the tempting array of food, Torrent didn''t nibble on any of it, his belly already full from previous meals. Pacificus even suspected that the fawn might be preparing for hibernation, given his plumpness. He mused that Torrent''s scales would likely return in the spring.


    The children continued their chores around the orphanage with impressive diligence. They seemed to be in a race against time, their small hands moving swiftly to complete each task. The sight of Pacificus and Torrent brought smiles to their faces, a welcome break in their routine.


    As Pacificus approached the entrance, he was greeted by a wave of excitement. The children, despite their busy schedules, made time to greet him and marvel at Torrent''s ever-growing size. The fawn''s transformation fascinated them, and they eagerly shared their observations and questions with Pacificus. Their eyes sparkled with curiosity and joy, a stark contrast to the somber, quiet streets of the town.


    <div>


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    "Oh Pacificus," greeted the old lady as she noticed him approaching. "Come inside, dear. Merina is inside." Her eyes then fell upon the kirin. "You have grown into a big ball of fur, haven''t you, Torrent?" Leto petted the fawn''s ears. The fawn didn''t react much; it wasn''t even surprised. In fact, it seemed to be expecting it.


    Inside, Merina was seated in front of a large loom, her hands moving with practiced precision. Pacificus entered quietly, not wanting to disturb his lover''s intense focus. He found her most beautiful in this state of concentration, knowing that despite her composed exterior, she was at her happiest in these moments.


    "Have you made breakfast yet, Mother Leto?" Pacificus asked.


    "Dear me, I haven''t yet," she replied.


    "Let''s make breakfast then," he suggested.


    "Thank you, young man."


    "What should we make?"


    "It''s cold, young man. We should make them some stew. After that, I''m planning to bake some bread from the flour for lunch."


    "Yes, Mother Leto."


    The two moved into the kitchen, a cozy space filled with the scents of herbs and dried vegetables hanging from the ceiling. The hearth was already warm, its embers glowing softly. Pacificus rolled up his sleeves and began to gather the ingredients.


    First, they selected a variety of root vegetables¡ªpotatoes, carrots, and parsnips¡ªlaying them out on the counter. Pacificus grabbed a knife and started peeling the vegetables, his movements steady and sure. Leto, meanwhile, fetched a large pot and filled it halfway with water, setting it on the hearth to heat up.


    "Do we have any meat?" Pacificus asked.


    "We have some smoked ham," Leto replied, retrieving a chunk from the pantry. She sliced it into bite-sized pieces, the savory aroma filling the kitchen.


    With the vegetables peeled and chopped, Pacificus added them to the pot, followed by the ham. Leto sprinkled in a generous handful of salt and a dash of pepper, then stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon.


    "Let''s add some herbs," Leto suggested, handing Pacificus a bunch of thyme and rosemary. He stripped the leaves from the stems and tossed them into the pot, their fragrant oils releasing a comforting scent.


    As the stew began to bubble, Leto added a few bay leaves and some chopped garlic for extra flavor. They let the stew simmer, occasionally stirring it to ensure everything cooked evenly. The kitchen gradually filled with the rich, hearty smell of the developing stew.


    While the stew simmered, Pacificus and Leto prepared to make bread. Leto measured out flour into a large mixing bowl, adding a pinch of salt and a bit of yeast. Pacificus poured in some warm water, and they took turns kneading the dough until it was smooth and elastic.


    "We''ll let this rise while the stew cooks," Leto said, covering the bowl with a cloth and placing it near the hearth to keep it warm.


    They returned to the stew, adding a splash of wine for depth and a few handfuls of barley to thicken it. Leto tasted the broth, adjusting the seasoning with a bit more salt and pepper.


    "Almost ready," she said, smiling.


    As they worked, the warmth of the hearth and the delicious smells created a comforting atmosphere. Merina, still focused on her loom, occasionally glanced over with a content smile, knowing breakfast was in good hands.


    Finally, the stew was done. Pacificus ladled it into bowls, the rich broth steaming in the cool morning air. Leto placed the bowls on a large tray, and they carried them out to the dining area, where the children eagerly awaited their meal. The aroma of the stew had drawn them in, their eyes wide with anticipation.


    "Breakfast is ready," Leto announced.


    The children gathered around the table, their faces bright with anticipation as they settled in for breakfast. Merina and the other adults, as was their custom, let the children eat first. Torrent, the kirin, slept contentedly near the fireplace, his soft fur gently rising and falling with each breath.


    The children ate quickly, savoring the warm, hearty stew that filled their bowls. Their chatter filled the room, lively and cheerful, a stark contrast to the quiet of the early morning outside. Once they finished eating, they diligently washed their dishes.


    Eager to get back to their chores and training, the children dispersed, their energy boundless despite the early hour. Half the town might still be asleep, but not these young ones. The older children, especially, were keen to continue their training, their dedication unwavering even in the cold winter months.


    With the children fed and busy with their tasks, it was now the adults'' turn to eat. They moved to the table, carrying the infants with them, who also needed feeding. The women balanced their bowls with one hand while cradling the babies with the other, displaying a well-practiced efficiency born of years of nurturing. Occasionally, Pacificus noticed one of the women discreetly breastfeeding an infant.


    Many of the adults who helped at the orphanage lived nearby, having chosen to stay close so they could be readily available to support the children and each other. Their shared commitment to the orphanage was evident in every action, from the way they prepared meals to the way they cared for the youngest members of their extended family.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    As the adults ate their breakfast, the room filled with the soft murmurs of conversation, the crackling of the fire in the hearth, and the occasional cooing of a baby. The warm, savory stew provided much-needed sustenance.


    Pacificus observed the scene in front of him. The routine, though demanding, brought a sense of stability and purpose. He watched as Merina, with her gentle touch and serene smile, fed one of the infants, her eyes reflecting the love and dedication she felt for this place and its people.


    After their meal, Merina and Pacificus decided to visit their favorite spot by the river. The river, now frozen solid, reflected the pale winter sky, and the air was crisp and cold. Snow blanketed the land, casting a serene and ethereal glow over the landscape.


    They walked hand in hand, their breath visible in the cold air, as they made their way to the riverbank. The silence was punctuated only by the crunch of snow beneath their boots. Upon reaching their spot, they stood together, gazing out over the frozen river, their hands intertwined, finding solace in each other''s presence.


    "Any news about the men?" Pacificus asked, his voice low and thoughtful.


    "No," Merina replied softly. "Not really... the last message we received was about them being involved in a siege. They built a wall around a castle and are planning to starve the defenders out."


    "I see... They won''t return for months," Pacificus mused, his brow furrowing with concern.


    "I''m afraid so," Merina agreed, squeezing his hand gently.


    The couple stood quietly for a moment, contemplating the frozen river and the stillness of the landscape. Despite the uncertainty and the distance from the men of the town, they found comfort in each other''s presence. For them, the world was reduced to this moment, to the warmth they shared amidst the cold.


    "How is the project you were working on?" Pacificus asked, breaking the silence.


    Merina snuggled closer to him, her laughter a light and joyful sound. "It''s going great. We need more blankets, especially for the infants. It''s only been a month into winter, and it''s already getting so cold... How about you? What are your plans?"


    "I''m focusing on feeding Torrent. I think he should be hibernating, like most beasts though,"


    Merina chuckled, "Knowing you, you''re probably thinking of going to the Ever Resting Forest to find new crops."


    Pacificus raised his hand in a playful gesture of surrender. "You know me too well, Rina."


    The tender moment between Merina and Pacificus lingered in the air, a silent exchange of love and understanding that transcended words. Their lips met in a gentle kiss.


    After a moment of shared closeness, curiosity sparked in Merina''s eyes, a glimmer of intrigue that danced in the depths of her gaze. "How do your rituals work, Pacificus?" she inquired, her voice soft with genuine interest.


    "Pardon?" Pacificus responded, his tone reflecting a mix of surprise and readiness to share.


    "You were a monk, right?" Merina probed further.


    "Yes... I am. I inherited that role from my father and mother,"


    "That means you can practice rituals," Merina deduced, her mind already turning to the mysteries that surrounded his spiritual practices.


    "I can... but... I haven''t performed any rituals yet," Pacificus admitted.


    "But you can do it," Merina pressed on.


    "Of course,"


    "So how does it work?" Merina''s curiosity bubbled forth, her desire for knowledge driving her inquiries.


    Pacificus chuckled softly, a warm sound that filled the space between them. "All right, my love. We don''t actually have temples. The temple of Gaia is simply a huge tree, in which her spirit and the spirit of Thanatos resides... We perform our rituals outside, preferably underneath a tree."


    "Outside?" Merina''s cheeks flushed with a mix of surprise and intrigue at the thought.


    "Of course," Pacificus confirmed, his voice gentle and reassuring.


    "D-don''t you have to get naked to perform the ritual?" Merina''s words tumbled out, her face a rather bright shade of red.


    "Huh?... What? Of course not. You just need a cloth with an exposed back for convenience,"


    "Oh," Merina relaxed. "Wait, wouldn''t you stink because of the miasma and pus that releases from your body?"


    Pacificus''s expression shifted. "Oh, you will, all right... I still remember that smell... it was... it was so vile. That is why we use incense to somehow remove the smell during the ritual. Though it is more recommended to take a bath after the ritual."


    "Your ritual is different from ours. We usually take a bath first before we begin the ritual,"


    "I see... Anyway, we simply kneel to the tree. The goddess of life, or at least her image, will show herself to the one being blessed and the monk... As a monk, it is my duty to ensure that the transfer of the blessed one''s gifts will be delivered to their body and soul,"


    "This process... it seems... the same with ours,"


    "Yes... after that, it is pretty much required to take a bath in a nearby river... or any body of water, actually... It is not really part of the ritual... it''s just that... the goo and pus that comes out of the blessed body... it stank... the stench... the stench is just vile... and it covers the entire bo-"


    "EWW, PACY! Don''t remind me of that," Merina interrupted, her playful disgust breaking the seriousness of their conversation.


    "As for the symbol of Gaia and Thanatos... It was actually a tree. With green branches on top and roots that look like dead branches on the bottom."


    "For our goddess Vesta, its a torch."


    "Why a torch though?" Pacificus asks.


    "I don''t know. Not really. Mother says the Vesta is the everlasting flame. She gives us protection from invaders and she its true. I have seen Vesta''s blessings save many of my family." Her eyes widen, her smile became brighter "It was like a fire in your heart that... that suddenly became bigger and brighter... it was... it was an amazing and also frightening experience."


    She went closer to Pacificus her head landing on his shoulder. "Pacy... How many children do you want?"


    Pacificus suddenly choked and coughed at her question. "C-calm down" he panics. "W-we-we-we-we need to build a house first.


    Seeing his reaction Merina simply laughs. Seeing his lover laugh made Pacificus smile, and eventually that smile turned into a laugh as well. The couple laugh as they both cover each other in their warm embrace


    <hr>


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    In time, spring arrived, breathing new life into the farm. The landscape transformed, with blossoms adorning the trees and the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers. Pacificus and Merina continued their daily routines, their lives intertwined with the rhythms of nature and the ever-growing community around them.


    During the seasons of spring, summer, and fall, the children flocked to Pacificus''s farm, eager to train and learn. The number of children seemed to increase little by little, each one finding a place in the structured yet nurturing environment Pacificus provided. The farm buzzed with activity as the children engaged in their training sessions, their youthful energy and determination a testament to the impact of Pacificus''s guidance.


    In time, Artemis and Apollo became the only ones practicing archery, their dedication and skill evident in their precise and powerful shots. The siblings worked tirelessly, their bows an extension of their will as they aimed for perfection. Hyakinthos found a worthy sparring partner in Kaveh, the son of the blacksmith couple. Kaveh, already strong for his age, was allowed to train with Pacificus under his mother¡¯s watchful approval. The young blacksmith''s son engaged in intense sparring matches with Hyakinthos, each bout a learning experience. Despite being younger and not yet blessed, Kaveh''s determination shone through. Though he consistently lost to Hyakinthos, his defeats only fueled his desire to grow stronger. Pacificus observed these matches with a mix of curiosity and pride, noting Kaveh''s raw strength and the areas where technique needed refinement. Under Pacificus''s supervision, the matches were conducted safely, ensuring that both boys learned and improved from each encounter.


    Meanwhile, a young girl named Hecate joined the training sessions. She quickly became close to Rhapso, the two often seen together, sharing in their lessons and chores. Their bond grew strong, providing each other with companionship and support. Demether, too, found a new classmate, further enriching the diverse and dynamic group of children on the farm.


    Among the new faces on the farm was Iasion, a quiet and unassuming young man with a peculiar fascination. His love for flowers, particularly the dangerous man-eating variety, set him apart. Iasion''s infatuation with these plants bordered on obsession, and he often spent hours studying them, as if hypnotized by their deadly beauty. Despite his silent nature, his presence did not go unnoticed, especially by the adults like Merina, who kept a concerned eye on him. Merina''s worry deepened when she learned of Iasion''s peculiar fixation. The young man expressed a desire to grow stronger, not for typical reasons of self-improvement or defense, but to get closer to the flowers that captivated him. This revelation only heightened the adults'' concern.


    Thus, a year had passed.


    Information about the whereabouts of the soldiers and men remained scarce, leaving the town shrouded in uncertainty. Children worried for their fathers and brothers. Wives fretted over their husbands and sons. Each day, they prayed fervently to their gods, beseeching their safe return.


    Inside the castle keep, a man sat heavily upon his throne. He was corpulent, dressed in luxurious clothing adorned with gold and silver threads, the colors vibrant yet incongruous with his weary demeanor. Scrolls of documents, letters delivered by pigeons, and crystal balls cluttered his surroundings. His eyes, heavy with dark circles, betrayed his sleepless nights. As the son of the town''s lord, the burden of leadership fell squarely on his shoulders in his father''s absence.


    "When will this war end?" he murmured to himself, despair tainting his voice as he read the latest reports from the frontlines. Scholars and advisors surrounded a large map, meticulously placing figures that represented armies, merchants, nobles, and villages.


    His gaze fell upon the map, scrutinizing the figures. "An army is missing," he stated to an old man clad in battle-worn armor standing beside him.


    "Yes, my Lord," the old man replied. "A significant force is unaccounted for. Do you suspect they might have crossed the mountains?"


    The noble closed his eyes, contemplating. "That treacherous bastard wouldn''t risk losing his men to the mountains... would he?"


    "That remains to be seen, my Lord," the old man responded, his tone somber.


    The noble''s eyes shifted to the figure representing his town, then to the Ever Resting Forest, and finally to Pacificus''s farm. "This town has two guardians from the south," he thought. "The Ever Resting Forest and the monster that resides on the farm. The west is safeguarded by the treacherous mountain range, while the north is defended by my brother''s castle."


    "If there were to be an attack, I suspect it would come from the east during winter when the Ever Resting River freezes," the old man speculated.


    The noble nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Can we withstand a siege?"


    The old man hesitated before replying, "With only women and children fighting... I doubt it, my Lord."


    "Raise the militia," the noble commanded, resolve hardening his features. "We need every soul to fight for our town''s defense."


    "Understood," the old man replied, bowing before taking his leave to carry out the orders.


    The noble''s gaze remained fixed on the map, his thoughts swirling around the vulnerable town and the looming mountains to the west.


    <hr>


    Two years had finally passed.


    It was spring.


    Pacificus was now riding his cart, pulled by the majestic Torrent, who had grown to the size of a horse. Torrent''s transformation was striking. Two grand antlers adorned his head, which now bore more resemblance to a wolf than a horse. His scaly hide revealed powerful muscles beneath, and his long, fluffy tail, a stunning blend of white fur and mane, frequently reached into Pacificus''s basket, greedily snatching apples and other treats. Torrent''s scales shimmered in vibrant shades of green and red, adding to his majestic appearance. His hooves had evolved into claws, and long whiskers flowed gracefully in the wind, almost as if they were floating. Despite his powerful build, Torrent had a rather large belly.


    The cart Torrent pulled was impressively large, laden with enormous sacks of food products. In addition to the supplies, the cart carried eighteen children and two adults. Despite the immense weight, Torrent pulled the cart effortlessly, showing no signs of strain. Instead, the kirin appeared bored, his attention more focused on the enticing basket of treats within his reach.


    The children chatted animatedly among themselves. The oldest ones¡ªArtemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos¡ªwere the most excited, their anticipation palpable. They had just turned ten, and the approaching Festival of the Gods was a momentous occasion for them.


    Also riding in the carriage were Pacificus and Merina, their hands adorned with matching rings. They sat close together, the warmth of their connection evident in their every glance and touch.


    Inside the town, statues and symbols of faith were proudly displayed in front of every household. Each one was adorned with an array of flowers and little altars, their vibrant colors standing out against the backdrop of the quaint homes. These altars and symbols seemed to compete with one another, each trying to outshine the rest in a show of devotion and reverence. Despite their already elaborate decorations, women and children continued to add more flowers to their altars, their hands busy with the task as if it were a distraction from their aching hearts. The uncertainty about the fate of the men who had gone to war weighed heavily on their minds, and this act of beautification provided a temporary solace.


    Children returned home early, eager to prepare for the annual festival that brought a rare sense of joy and unity to the town. This was no ordinary festival; it was a grand celebration, so significant that attacking anyone during this sacred time was considered sacrilege and would mark the offender as an enemy of the Gods.


    Even though the festival had yet to officially begin, the town looked ready to burst into celebration. The streets were lined with colorful banners and streamers, fluttering gently in the spring breeze. Children ran about, their laughter echoing through the streets as they helped their families with the final preparations.


    As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the town, the final touches were being made. The altars now shimmered with the last rays of daylight, each one a testament to the town''s unwavering faith and hope. The town was ready, not just for the festival, but for a moment of collective joy and remembrance of better times, as they awaited the return of their loved ones.


    The children inside the orphanage tried to sleep early, but their excitement for the upcoming festival proved too much. Before long, they found themselves gathered in the kitchen, cooking up a feast from the ingredients they could find. Laughter and the clatter of utensils filled the cozy space as the aroma of their culinary creations mingled with the lingering scent of freshly baked bread.


    The adults, far from reprimanding the children for being up past their bedtime, joined in the impromptu celebration. They shared stories and jokes, the lines between caregiver and child blurred by the shared warmth and joy of the moment. Plates piled high with food were passed around, each dish a testament to the children''s growing culinary skills.


    Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of the orphanage, Merina was making the finishing touches on three special garments for three of the children. The clothes appeared ordinary at first glance, simple and practical, but a closer look revealed the meticulous care that had gone into every stitch. Each thread was woven with precision, each seam reinforced for durability. The fabric was soft but sturdy, chosen for comfort as well as resilience.


    What set these clothes apart, however, was the design: the back of each garment was open. Merina¡¯s fingers moved deftly, her years of experience evident in the speed and accuracy of her work. Just beside here are two fabrics one black and one white, near the two fabrics is a drawing of a tree with its roots. She hummed softly as she sewed, the gentle melody blending with the distant sounds of laughter from the kitchen.

 Chapter 12: The Festival of the Gods; The Gifts for Artemis

    As the first light of dawn filtered through the windows of his humble farmhouse, Pacificus stirred from his slumber, ready to embrace the busy day ahead. With practiced grace, he performed his morning rituals of swordplay and prayers, grounding himself in the rhythms of the new spring day.


    Surveying his farm, Pacificus noted with a wry smile the telltale signs of a wild beast''s intrusion, evidenced by the crops already nibbled upon. Before he could even react, Torrent, ever vigilant and protective, swiftly chased away the intruder, his large form a formidable deterrent to any would-be thieves. The Kirin''s territorial nature extended not just to his domain but also to his food, and nothing roused his ire more than the thought of someone pilfering his own sustenance.


    Amused by Torrent''s grumpiness yet appreciative of his steadfast guardianship, Pacificus chuckled softly as he set about his morning tasks. Breakfast preparation was a shared ritual between man and beast, with Pacificus deftly cooking a hearty meal for both himself and the Kirin. Torrent, with an appetite as vast as his size, relished cooked food above all else, a preference that spared the crops from his voracious hunger¡ªunless, of course, they found their way into his designated bowl.


    As the aroma of breakfast filled the air, Torrent''s massive head appeared at the farmhouse''s lone window. Emitting a distinct grumble and bellow, the Kirin''s mannerisms seemed to convey a mix of impatience and longing, as if he were attempting to communicate his desire to partake in the meal or perhaps simply eyeing the giant cauldron with a hunger that matched his size. Pacificus, accustomed to these interactions, shared a knowing look with his loyal companion, understanding the unspoken language that bound them in their daily routines.


    After the satisfying meal shared with his loyal Kirin, Pacificus''s gaze shifted towards a young oak tree standing proudly in the midst of his farm. Memories flooded his mind as he beheld the sturdy trunk, a testament to the passage of time and the legacy of generations past. This oak tree held a special significance, for it was planted by his father in remembrance of the tree sacrificed to build a storage space for the prey his mother had hunted.


    Approaching the oak tree with a sense of reverence, Pacificus carefully selected a sturdy rope, its fibers woven together in a pattern that spoke of ancient symbols and hidden meanings.


    With deliberate movements, he secured the rope around the magnificent trunk of the oak tree, each knot tied with a practiced hand and a solemn intent.


    Beside the tree, he placed a bundle of fragrant incense, its sweet aroma mingling with the earthy scents of the farm. Though unlit for now, the incense held a promise of purification and sanctification.


    As he stood back to admire his handiwork, a sense of completion settled upon him. The oak tree stood as a silent sentinel, bearing witness to the rituals of the past and the promises of the future, its roots anchored deep in the soil of tradition and memory. With a final nod of acknowledgment, Pacificus turned away, he still has something to do with the river.


    <hr>


    On the day of the long-awaited festival, the town came alive with a vibrant energy, stalls bursting with an array of goods and wares that beckoned to the eager crowds. The vendors, predominantly women and children, bustled about their makeshift shops, their faces alight with anticipation and a sense of camaraderie born from shared experiences of waiting and longing for the return of their men from war.


    Among the throngs of festival-goers, a group of young guards stood watch, their ill-fitting armor and oversized helmets a comical sight against the backdrop of the bustling marketplace. The clunky armor hung awkwardly on their frames, the helmets slipping down to cover their eyes and requiring constant readjustment to maintain even a semblance of visibility. Their weapons, halberds of formidable make, proved to be a challenge for some, the weight of the weapons demanding the combined effort of both hands just to lift them upright.


    As the sun cast its golden light upon the scene, a procession of priestesses from various faiths made their way down the road, a kaleidoscope of colors and prayers that seemed to purify the very air around them. Each priestess, draped in robes of intricate design and adorned with symbols of their beliefs, carried with them an aura of reverence and solemnity that lent a sense of sanctity to the otherwise bustling festival.


    The prayers of the priestesses, each a unique melody of faith and devotion, mingled in the air, creating a harmonious cacophony that spoke of unity in diversity. Though the different faiths brought their own rituals and beliefs to the procession, there was an underlying thread of solidarity that bound them together in a shared reverence for the divine.


    Amidst the chaos and unity of the procession, a bittersweet note hung in the air¡ªthe absence of the men, whose presence would have added another layer of richness to the festivities.


    Following the ethereal procession of priestesses, a group of children adorned in pristine white garments adorned with delicate flowers trailed behind, their innocent faces aglow with a sense of wonder and reverence. Their attire, simple yet elegant, draped them in flowing white tunics that nearly brushed the ground as they walked, their steps light and purposeful as they followed the lead of the guiding priestesses towards their destination¡ªthe noble district.


    As the children entered the exclusive realm of the nobles, a subtle shift in atmosphere was palpable. The noble children, also dressed in white attire but of a quality far superior to that of the commoners, joined the procession with a sense of grace and poise that bespoke their privileged upbringing. Their movements were more regimented, almost as if they were marching in a synchronized dance, in stark contrast to the carefree chatter and laughter that filled the air among the commoner children.


    Among the noble children, one young boy stood out, his gaze inadvertently drawn to a commoner child walking alongside his peers. A blush crept up his cheeks as he beheld the striking figure of Hyakinthos, whose presence seemed to radiate a rare beauty that captured the noble boy''s attention. Hyakinthos, engaged in conversation with Apollo and Artemis, exuded a quiet confidence that set him apart, his eyes a mesmerizing shade of violet that seemed to hold a universe of secrets within their depths.


    Caught off guard by the captivating allure of Hyakinthos, the noble child stumbled slightly, his gaze lingering on the commoner boy with a mix of admiration and fascination.


    As the procession culminated within the hallowed halls of the Temple of Creation, the grandest sanctuary in the town, a sense of awe and reverence enveloped the gathered crowd. Despite its imposing size and grandeur, the temple bore no statues or symbols of deities within its walls. Instead, it stood as a colossal edifice with a towering dome that loomed overhead, its central aperture allowing a brilliant shaft of sunlight to cascade down into the cavernous interior, bathing the space in a divine glow.


    Into this sacred space strode the priestess, a figure shrouded in pristine white from head to toe, her form enveloped in flowing garments that lent her an air of ethereal majesty. A white veil obscured her features, casting her countenance in a veil of mystery and sanctity, while the sunlight, like a celestial spotlight, illuminated her figure with a radiant aura.


    "Welcome, children of Elion," her voice rang out, carrying a tone of fervent devotion and unwavering faith. "Today marks a grand celebration in honor of our Gods and the hero of our Great Ancestor Elion. The Great Emperor of Mankind, a beacon of light amidst the darkness, rose as a champion of the Gods, vanquishing demons, xenos, unclean beings, and savage beasts that sought to threaten our kind. His triumph was so monumental that he decreed this day a testament to the Gods who aided him in his righteous battle for the betterment of mankind."


    With a fervor bordering on zealotry, the priestess raised her hands to the heavens, her voice swelling with religious fervor. "Glory to Elion! Glory to our Species! Glory to Mankind!" she proclaimed, her words ringing out like a clarion call to arms. "Glory to the Gods!"


    In unison, the children echoed her words, their voices blending in a chorus of adulation and praise. "Glory to the Gods," they intoned, their gestures mirroring the priestess''s own, their youthful faces alight with a fervent zeal.


    "Now, Children of Elion," her voice resonated, a symphony of authority and conviction echoing through the grand expanse of the Temple of Creation. Each word dripped with a potent mix of religious fervor and fervent nationalism, her figure draped in pristine white, shimmering in the divine light that bathed the chamber, casting her in an ethereal glow as she presented the choices before them, the proud descendants of their Great Ancestor.


    "You are the proud sons and daughters of our Great Ancestor. Choose well on the Gods you choose to serve," she intoned, her eyes, veiled yet piercing, sweeping over the assembly of youths, each one a vessel for the divine will she sought to channel.


    "Will you serve Jupiter, the God of the heavens? His dominion rules the skies, and his blessings will bestow upon you strength, vitality, and protection from the storms as he guides your fate above the clouds."


    And as she spoke of Juno, a fervent passion infused her words, especially when addressing the young ladies. "Serve Juno, the goddess of Love and Marriage, the Superior Mother who ensures health and protection for women old and young. Juno raises the next generation so they wouldn''t lose their path. With her blessing, you will possess immense vitality and protection from violent men who dare to assault you."


    The priestess''s voice wove a tapestry of darkness as she extolled the virtues of Vulcan, the God of the forge, whose domain engulfs craftsmanship and industry. "Vulcan''s blessings will grant you immense endurance and resistance to the flames, ensuring that your craftsmanship skills will rapidly improve under his watchful gaze."


    Then she turned to Vesta, the Everlasting Flame, the hearth of the family, the protector of homes. "Vesta''s domain is that of the family''s hearth, shielding loved ones with her blessings. With her favor, you will receive a talent in dexterity to support your kin, and she will shield your home from intruders."


    Next, she spoke of Minerva, the Goddess of Wisdom and the Arts, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "Minerva''s blessings will enhance your dexterity and grant you a greater capability to understand the intricacies of our world. With her guidance, you will navigate the shadows with ease."


    Mars, the Master of War, was presented next, his presence exuding power and martial prowess. "Serve Mars, the bringer of conflict and resolution. His blessings will bestow upon you immense strength and endurance, shielding you against your enemies and guiding your hand in battle."


    Finally, she spoke of Neptune, the God of the Seas, his realm vast and unfathomable. "Neptune''s dominion spans the depths of the oceans. With his blessings, you will gain great endurance and dexterity, along with protection from the treacherous depths of the sea."


    "Choose, dear children of Elion," she urged. "Don''t take this decision lightly, for the future of our species depends on you. The Gods you choose to serve will shape not only your destinies but the very fabric of our collective existence. Embrace their blessings, for in them lies the key to our supremacy and dominance over all others."


    The priestess''s fervent cry pierced the tranquility of the day, her hands raised high in a gesture of reverence and exaltation.


    "For the Gods!" echoed the children in unison, their voices carrying a blend of awe and obedience as they mirrored her actions, their young faces alight with a mixture of devotion and trepidation.


    With that sacred chant lingering in the air, the children dispersed, their paths diverging as they made their way from the noble''s district, where the majestic temples stood, to the humble abodes of the commoners, where their chosen deities awaited their worship.


    Yet, amidst the bustling streets and crowded alleys of the town, three daring souls chose a different path. Ignoring the boundaries that confined them within the town walls, they ventured beyond, following a dirt road that meandered through the outskirts, its presence marked by the occasional trampled bush, a testament to the cart that stubbornly traversed its otherwise rugged terrain.


    <hr>


    Inside Pacificus'' humble hut, the air was thick with the scent of yeast and the promise of a hearty meal to come. The flickering light of a small hearth cast dancing shadows across the rough-hewn walls, illuminating the array of ingredients laid out before him.


    With deft hands weathered by years of toil, Pacificus set to work, his movements deliberate and practiced as he measured out the ingredients with care. The cockatrice eggs, their shells shimmering with an iridescent sheen, were cracked open one by one, their golden yolks mixing with the creamy milk in a wooden bowl.


    Next came the flour, fine and powdery, sifted through a woven sieve to remove any lumps. Pacificus poured it into the mixture, his hands working the dough with a steady rhythm, kneading and folding until it took on a smooth, elastic texture.


    As the dough rose under his skilled hands, he shaped it into loaves with a practiced touch, forming them into round balls before placing them on a wooden tray. With a final dusting of flour, he covered them with a linen cloth to rest, allowing the yeast to work its magic and leaven the bread.


    Meanwhile, the makeshift oven stood ready, its stone walls radiating heat from the crackling fire within. Pacificus carefully slid the tray inside, the scent of baking bread filling the air as the loaves began to brown and crisp in the intense heat.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Time seemed to slow as he tended to the fire, the flickering light casting a warm glow over his weathered features. The crackle of the flames mingled with the soft hiss of the baking bread, creating a symphony of sounds that spoke of sustenance and comfort in the midst of simplicity.


    Finally, with a practiced eye, Pacificus withdrew the tray from the oven, the loaves golden and steaming, their crusts crisp and inviting. He breathed in deeply, savoring the aroma of freshly baked bread that filled the room, a testament to his skill and the bounty of the land.


    As Pacificus set the loaves on a wooden table to cool, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. His heart swelled with pride at the simple yet profound act of creating something nourishing and essential from the gifts of the earth. Sitting down to break bread, alone yet content in his rustic abode, Pacificus knew that in this moment, he was truly rich in the blessings of hearth and home.


    "Pacy," a familiar voice called out. He didn''t think twice before opening the door, and there she was¡ªMerina, with the children and a basket in her hands. The children were already playing with Torrent, brushing his fur and touching his scales. The Kirin, now the size of a horse with a wolf-like head and majestic antlers, replied by chewing his vegetables, ignoring the children''s attempts to pet him and play with his long tail.


    "Rina... Did the festival end already?" Pacificus asked.


    "Of course not... I came to give you these." She handed him some baskets. Inside were tunics with open backs, clearly meant for children.


    "It''s for them."


    "Not just for them, Pacy."


    Beneath the children''s clothes was a monastic scapular, commonly worn by monks of faith. This sacred piece of clothing bore a unique symbol¡ªa tree with its roots at the bottom, representing life and death. The tree was intricately embroidered, its branches stretching upwards with delicate leaves unfurling, symbolizing life and growth. The roots extended downward in a complex weave, resembling dead branches, representing death and the return to the earth. The scapular''s colors, black and white, also symbolized life and death, with the tree''s roots and branches artfully contrasting against the background.


    "Oh, Rina," Pacificus said, his voice filled with gratitude and a touch of shame. "You didn''t have to do this for me."


    "I wanted to."


    "Thank you."


    In front of Merina, he proudly donned the scapular. The tree with its roots, the symbol of life and death, was now displayed on his chest. The scapular was practical for monks who spent much of their time doing chores, sometimes including farming.


    "It looks good on you," Merina said, smiling.


    "You made it, after all." Pacificus then remembered something he wanted to give back to Merina. "I baked some bread. Want some?"


    The couple sat down on the hut''s porch, talking about the festival and eating the bread Pacificus had made. The children continued to play with Torrent''s tail, the Kirin unbothered as the children shared their bread with him.


    The couple and the children were waiting, after all, and what better way to do it than by eating together?


    Finally, the children arrived.


    Pacificus and Merina smiled at the three children.


    "Big Brother Pacy," Artemis said, "we are ready."


    "Have you eaten yet?" Merina asked.


    "No," the three of them answered.


    Merina then handed them a large plate of bread. "Let''s eat first before Pacy starts the ritual."


    "Is eating necessary for the ritual?" Apollo asked.


    "No," Pacificus replied, "but you are going to need it."


    The three children ate with the couple and their younger siblings under a huge tree with a knot tied on its trunk. The tree''s branches stretched out, casting a dappled shade over the group. The children and Merina looked at the tree, or more specifically, at the knot that held a peculiar pattern.


    "What a peculiar pattern," she complimented the rope pattern, her fingers tracing the intricate loops and twists.


    "What do you mean?" Pacificus asked. "It was a knot taught to me by my father. He always does it when he is performing the ritual of blessing for me."


    Merina smiled at Pacificus. "Patterns and knots have a language, Pacy, and this knot reads as a prayer."


    "Big Brother," Hyakinthos said, "we are ready."


    Pacificus nodded. "All right."


    "Come, children," Merina said as she moved away from the three with the younger children. "Now remember, you must remain silent... The ritual is sacred, and we must show respect."


    The children all nodded, their faces solemn with the weight of the moment.


    The ritual then began.


    In front of Pacificus, the three children knelt, wearing long tunics with open backs. The soft fabric draped gracefully over their shoulders, ready to expose their backs for the sacred ritual. Behind him, the tree with the rope tied to its trunk stood like a silent guardian, its branches swaying gently in the spring breeze.


    "Before we begin, I need to ask, are you three sure about this?" Pacificus''s voice was calm and steady, filled with a mixture of authority and tenderness.


    "Yes," the three of them answered in unison, their voices unwavering.


    "All right... Then I, Azrael, blessed child of Gaia and Thanatos, extend their blessings to you."


    Pacificus lit the incense, filling the surroundings with a peculiar scent. The aroma was subtle yet pleasing, wrapping around the senses like a comforting embrace.


    He moved in front of Artemis first. "State your name," he instructed, his voice steady and ceremonial.


    "I am Artemis," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.


    "Artemis... Will you accept the blessing of Gaia and Thanatos?"


    "Yes," she answered, her resolve firming.


    Pacificus then took a dagger. To the surprise of Artemis and the other children, including the young ones who were watching, he made a cut on his own hand, letting his blood drip into a wooden cup. The sight elicited gasps and wide-eyed stares from everyone except Merina, who chuckled softly at their reactions.


    "Then offer me your hand, Artemis," Pacificus said.


    With a trembling hand, Artemis extended her palm. She looked away and closed her eyes as the dagger approached her skin.


    And then... "Is it done?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.


    "Yes," Pacificus replied calmly.


    Artemis slowly opened her eyes, sighing in relief along with the other children when they saw the cut was small, a mere scratch compared to the bruises she had endured before. Her blood mingled with Pacificus''s in the wooden bowl, creating a crimson mixture.


    Behind Artemis, Pacificus drew the symbol of life and death on her back. As he neared the final stroke, he paused and asked, "Are you ready?"


    "For what?" she responded, a hint of curiosity in her voice.


    "You will see... Just don''t be afraid."


    "I won''t," she said, trying to sound brave.


    He chuckled softly. "We''ll see."


    As Pacificus completed the final stroke, Artemis''s eyes widened in shock. She pointed shakily at the tree before her. "BIG BROTHER!" she shouted in panic. "THE TREE! THE TREE! IT''S... IT''S MOVING! IT''S MOVING!"


    "Calm down, Arty," Pacificus soothed.


    Merina and the children looked at the tree and then back at Artemis, confusion and concern etched on their faces.


    "Is she okay?" Hyakinthos asked Apollo, worry evident in his tone.


    "I don''t know," Apollo replied, equally puzzled.


    The two boys glanced at Artemis and then at the tree. To them, the tree stood still, unwavering. But Artemis was frightened, moving away and hiding behind Pacificus as if something unseen was pursuing her.


    But there was nothing there.


    In Artemis''s eyes, she was hiding behind Pacificus, staring at the Goddess of Life herself. The goddess was a paradox, both beautiful and ugly, chaotic yet organized. She embodied life in all its contradictions.


    "Hello, young one," said the goddess of life, her voice a strange blend of mocking and genuine, both feminine and manly. Artemis cowered behind Pacificus, her small frame trembling.


    "Hi," she replied, her voice shaky and terrified.


    "You seek my blessing, do you not?" the goddess continued.


    "Y-yes," Artemis stammered.


    "Then come forth, child, if you would like to receive the blessing of life."


    Artemis stepped forward, her entire body quaking with fear. The goddess was not human¡ªfar from it. She was a paradox, both beautiful and ugly, uncanny and pleasant to look at, her voice mirroring her contradictory appearance. "There, there. It''s not that hard, is it?" the goddess cooed.


    She approached the scared child, her branches and vines encircling Artemis.


    "Let me tell you the nature of my blessing, young one. Unlike the Young Gods, who protect their worshippers with their divinity, we do not do such a thing. You will still receive the blessing of the God of Creation, but you will have to rely on yourself more. Do you understand?"


    "Y-yes," Artemis whispered.


    The goddess smiled, an expression both uncanny and terrifying, yet beautiful and pleasant. "Good... Now tell me, child, what do you want to be? What blessing from the God of Creation would you choose?"


    "I-I-I want to be a hunter," Artemis replied.


    "Done," the goddess said, tapping her forehead. It was quick, and Artemis didn¡¯t even realize or see it.


    "That''s it?" she asked, bewildered.


    The goddess chuckled, a sound that was a whole contradiction in itself, leaving Artemis confused and terrified. "Of course not," the goddess of life answered. "Tell me, young one, what power would you want to have?"


    Artemis''s eyes widened with excitement.


    "Do you want to have the power to run fast? To blend into your surroundings, hidden from any threats, or to have the power of a marksman?"


    "Hmmm," Artemis pondered. She hated thinking. "All of them."


    "No can do, young one."


    "Hmmm... I want to have the power to... hmmm, to have an arrow that could kill anything."


    Apollo shook his head, Merina shuddered in shock, and the children looked at her as if she was crazy.


    "Who is she talking to?"


    "What is she talking about?"


    "I think she lost it."


    The goddess of life chuckled again, this time with pure amusement, free of contradictions. "My, my, how violent. Though I can''t grant that, I can give you something close... Let me give it to you." She held Artemis, her grip feeling both motherly and terrifying. "The Arrow of Moonlight."


    "What''s that?" Artemis asked.


    "It''s a spell."


    "I HAVE A SPELL!" she beamed.


    Her reaction filled the crowd with worry.


    "Oh yes," Gaia replied, her contradicting nature replaced by genuine amusement. "The spell is called Lunaris, the arrow of moonlight."


    "Oh, what does it do?"


    "It is a spell that allows you to harvest the light of the seven moons, the stars, and your own soul to strike your enemies."


    "THAT IS COOL," Artemis exclaimed.


    The children watching her started to worry even more.


    "However," Gaia continued, her tone shifting to one of caution, "to keep the balance of this world, you can only use that power once a day. That is the flaw of such a spell."


    "Oh... okay," Artemis replied, her excitement tempered by the restriction "not that cool".


    Gaia chuckles. There is no contradiction in her chuckle just genuine amusement at a child "I like this one. She got spirit".


    Then Artemis suddenly shivered. She felt a threat not just to her body but to her soul. She heard a whisper, a sinister whisper in which she cannot tell where the whisper came from, for the whisper came from everywhere even inside her head, her heart and her soul the whispers says "You will be at your strongest during the night.... but you will be at your weakest during the day"


    And just like that the dreaded feeling disappeared.


    The experience was so terrifying she immediately went to hug Pacificus.


    "That was Thanatos Arty" says Pacificus "He is Gaia''s everlasting consort."


    Artemis simply nods.


    "Show me your back Arty" says Pacificus as he holds Artemis''s back. "Now close your eyes"


    The symbol on Artemis''s back glows.


    "Perhaps I''ll see you soon, Young Artemis." Gaia bids farewell, Her voice mocking but genuine, beautiful but ugly, manly and feminine, chaotic yet orderly.


    This time Artemis''s closes her eyes. She saw a star... a small blue star. Then the runes appeared.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.9817%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9829%" colspan="2">Artemis Leto (I) Hunter</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9829%" colspan="2">Blessing: Gift and Gaia and Thanatos: The blessed one will receive two gifts each one contains flaws</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 99.9829%" colspan="2">Hunter (Beginner Hunter)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0828%">Strength</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">C/C</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0828%">Dexterity</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0828%">Agility</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0828%">Speed</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0828%">Stamina</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">C/B</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0828%">Vigor</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">C/C</td>


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    <td style="width: 99.9829%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Gifts</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0828%" rowspan="2">Lunaris</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">Spell: Focus the power of the moons, the stars and the soul to make a powerful attack.</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Flaw: Can only be used once a day</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0828%" rowspan="2">Moon-born</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">Skill: The gifted one is at their strongest during the night.</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Flaw: The gifted one is at their weakest during the day.</td>


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    <td style="width: 99.9829%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Main Skills:</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0828%" rowspan="11">Hunter</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9%">Hunter''s Perception (Beginner)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Tracking (Beginner)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Trap Maker (Beginner)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Butcher (Beginner)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Gatherer (Beginner)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Hunter''s Mind (Beginner)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Bushcraft (Beginner)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Navigator (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Archer (Beginner Advance)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Spearman (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9%">Dagger user (Beginner)</td>


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    </tbody>


    </table>


    Artemis smiled, her heart beating rapidly with excitement as she practically jumped for joy.


    "I''M A HUNTER!" she shouted. "I''M A HUNTER!" She laughed, "I''M A HUN¡ª" she suddenly paused. "What''s that smell?"


    Her heightened senses did her no favors. Her face turned green at the stench. "What is that smell?"


    She looked at her arm. "Is that me?" she thought to herself. To her horror, a mixture of black, brown, and yellow disgusting goo oozed from the pores of her skin.


    "AHHH!" she shouted. "BIG BROTHER, HELP!" she panicked.


    "Go to the river," Pacificus said calmly, his hand on his nose as he looked at Artemis with a smile.


    Panicking, Artemis ran towards the river near Pacificus''s home.


    "Stay inside the nets," Pacificus called after her.


    As Artemis ran, her panic intensified. The disgusting goo continued to seep from the pores of her body, invading her nose and ears. She felt a wave of nausea rise within her.


    When she neared the river, she jumped in, not caring about the potential man-eating fish that inhabited its waters.


    The moment Artemis plunged into the tannin river, the water around her immediately turned black. The disgusting goo, expelled from her body, was carried away by the river¡¯s calm flow. The fish, regardless of their size, instinctively avoided the black miasma. It seemed the nets were there to protect the river¡¯s inhabitants, not Artemis.


    Artemis soaked herself thoroughly in the river, frantically trying to cleanse her body of the goo. It continued to ooze from every orifice, causing her to panic further when it began seeping from her eyes as if she were crying tears of the vile substance. She didn''t stop, scrubbing and rinsing, desperate to rid herself of the repulsive goo.


    The other children watched in horror, their eyes wide with fear and confusion.


    "This brings back memories," Merina chuckled softly


    After a few minutes of perhaps the most frightening bath she had ever experienced, Artemis emerged from the river, exhausted and miserable. Despite her ordeal, her silver eyes were now more vibrant, her silver hair gleamed with a newfound luster, and her skin had taken on a healthier glow. She was surprised at how smooth and soft her skin felt as she ran her fingers over it.


    When she returned to her brothers, the other children blushed at the sight of her, their expressions a mix of awe and confusion.


    Hyakinthos looked at her, bewildered. "Who are you?" he asked, his eyes wide with astonishment.


    "What do you mean, Haya?" Artemis replied in a tired voice, which now sounded unexpectedly beautiful.


    "Okay, who are you really?" Hyakinthos insisted, still not recognizing her.


    "It''s me, Artemis!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a melodious tone.


    "I don''t have a sister that pretty," Apollo said, raising his eyebrows.


    "Who?" Artemis asked, looking around, genuinely confused. "Where?"


    "Yup, she is our sister all right," Apollo confirmed, nodding.


    "What?" Artemis repeated, her confusion deepening.


    "See, I told you she is our sister," Apollo said, turning to Hyakinthos.


    "What are you talking about?" Artemis asked, still trying to understand what was happening.

 Chapter 13: The Festival of the Gods; The Gifts for Apollo and Hyakinthos

    "Are you ready, Pollo?" Pacificus asked, poised to make the final stroke of the symbol on Apollo''s back.


    "I am," Apollo replied, his voice steady.


    Pacificus''s finger hovered, then moved purposefully.


    "Wait, Big Brother?" Apollo suddenly interjected.


    "Yes, Pollo?" Pacificus paused, a gentle smile on his face.


    "What did Arty see? When... when you did it?"


    Pacificus chuckled softly. "See for yourself, the Goddess of Life.... Are you ready?"


    Apollo took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Okay, Big Brother. Do it."


    With the final stroke of the symbol of Gaia painted on Apollo''s back, his eyes immediately widened in fear and awe. He didn''t know what he was looking at. The goddess of life appeared before him, her form both beautiful and ugly, uncanny and pleasant to look at, chaotic yet


    organized. Her very essence was a myriad of contradictions, reflecting the nature of life itself.


    "Ahh," the voice of the goddess of life resonated with a symphony of contradictions, both alluring and frightening, masculine and feminine, beautiful and ugly. "You must be young Apollo... step forward, if you seek our blessing."


    Apollo walked forward, trying not to shake in fear¡ªa feat in which he failed miserably, earning a chuckle from the goddess of life.


    "Tell me, young Apollo, what blessing would you like to receive?" the goddess asked, her voice so filled with contradictions that Apollo didn''t even know how to properly react.


    "I..." Apollo began, trying his best not to scream in fear and confusion, "I want to heal people... I want the blessing of Apothecary."


    "Oh," the goddess replied, her tone a blend of mockery and sincerity. "Are you sure, young one? This blessing, this path, is not an easy one. Even with the skills given to you by the world."


    "I am." Apollo replied, determination evident in his eyes. "I want to save people."


    A smile formed on the goddess''s face, a smile full of contradictions that left Apollo unsure if she was mocking him or being genuine. "All right, young one, you shall have it.... but be warned, receiving our blessing also comes with a risk."


    "W-what is the risk?"


    "You will receive two gifts, and with those gifts come flaws." Gaia leaned closer, her form a bewildering blend of wood and vines, with fire burning in her chest and eyes. Leaves and vines grew and protruded towards Apollo, trapping the young child in the goddess''s motherly and frightening embrace. "These gifts are powerful, young one, and to keep the balance of the world, we must give flaws to these gifts. Do you want to accept it?"


    "D-Did Sister Artemis also receive this gift?"


    "Yes," the goddess answered without contradiction.


    Apollo closed his eyes, his hand on his chin. The goddess simply stared at him. "Will it help me save people?" he asked.


    "If that is what you want.... If you become stronger, perhaps you can even revive someone from the dead," the goddess replied, her nature shifting between solemnity and jest.


    "Then I¡ª"


    "Before you continue, my child, I must also warn you. The more powerful the gift, the more potent the flaw."


    "I knew it," Apollo responded, "but I''ll take it."


    The goddess smiled. This time, it was genuine.


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    With her hands of wood, vines, and leaves, the goddess touched Apollo''s forehead. It was so quick that Apollo didn''t even realize it. The leaves then touched Pacificus''s back, where her symbol was located.


    "I give you the spell Healing Light, Solaris."


    "A... A spell? What does it do?" Apollo asked, his voice trembling with anticipation.


    "You can harvest the power of the sun, the skies, and your soul to heal others or cause harm."


    "That sounds powerful," Apollo remarked, awe in his voice.


    "However, using this power will also give you great pain, not in your body but in your soul. For the power of flames would burn your soul."


    "WHAT?!" Apollo panicked, his eyes widening in fear. "That doesn''t sound fair."


    The goddess gave a genuine chuckle, a sound that felt strangely comforting despite her contradictory nature. Finally, she let go, and a voice whispered to Apollo.


    The moment he heard the voice, Apollo felt a deep, primordial fear. The voice was everywhere, surrounding him, whispering, "You will be at your strongest during the day... but at your weakest during the night."


    Then the voice disappeared. The experience was so terrifying that Apollo landed on his knees, his heart beating so fast he went dizzy. The hair on his skin stood up, and his breath came in quick, shallow gasps as he struggled to catch his breath.


    "Move forward," the goddess commanded, her tone full of contradictions. "Live, enjoy life, and die as a mortal, young Apollo. Use your gifts wisely." And with that, the goddess and her consort simply disappeared.


    "Are you okay Pollo?" Pacificus asks.


    "Y-yes" Apollo tries to reply "I''m fine, I''m fine" he tries to calm himself, the memory of Thanatos''s whisper is still in his mind.


    "All right." says Pacificus "Prepare yourself Apollo... tell me when you are ready."


    "I''m fine Big Brother... I''m ready"


    "Alright." Pacificus touches Apollo''s back and the symbol glowed brightly. "Close your eyes Apollo."


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    Apollo closed his eyes and felt an immediate shift in his perception, as if he were diving deep within himself. In this inner world, he saw his soul. It wasn''t an abstract concept or a vague idea; it was a tangible presence, a star, glowing brilliantly in the darkness. The star was small, but its light was intense and unwavering, reminiscent of the sun at its zenith.


    This star was a source of life, pulsating with energy and warmth. Its light was pure and radiant, casting no shadows, only a brilliant glow that seemed to infuse everything around it with vitality. Yet, there was a duality to this brilliance. The sun, after all, was both a life-bringer and a force of destruction. It could nurture and sustain life, but it could also scorch and burn with equal ferocity. Apollo''s star embodied this paradox, its radiant light holding both the promise of creation and the threat of devastation.


    As he focused on the star, Apollo began to notice the appearance of runes. They emerged slowly, like ancient symbols being etched into his very essence. Curious and intrigued, Apollo reads the runes;


    <div>


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.9817%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9883%" colspan="2">Apollo Leto (I) Apothecary</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9883%" colspan="2">Blessing: Gift and Gaia and Thanatos: The blessed one will receive two gifts each one contains flaws</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9883%" colspan="2">Apothecary (Beginner Apothecary)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0719%">Strength</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">C/C</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0719%">Dexterity</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0719%">Agility</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0719%">Speed</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">C/C</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0719%">Stamina</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0719%">Vigor</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">C/B</td>


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    <td style="width: 99.9883%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Gifts:</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0719%" rowspan="2">Solaris</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Spells: The gifted one can harness the power of the sun, the skies and one''s own soul to heal or damage.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Flaw: The power burns the soul causing great pain. The damage takes a long time to heal.</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0719%" rowspan="2">Sun-Born</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Skill: The gifted one is at their strongest during the day.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Flaw: The gifted one is at their weakest during the night.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.9883%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Main Skills:</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0719%" rowspan="11">Apothecary</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Apothecary''s Mind (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Apothecary''s Wisdom (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Pottery (Poor)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Glassware (Poor)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Maintenance (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Herbalist (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Apothecary''s Intellect (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Apothecary''s Perception (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Herbalist (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Chemistry (Poor)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9164%">Healing Hands (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


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    A huge smile formed on Apollo''s face, a mixture of relief and pride. However, before he could fully embrace his newfound joy, he remembered what had happened to his sister. Panic quickly replaced his elation, and he bolted toward the river. The tannin water, with its gentle current, was abruptly disturbed by a huge splash as Apollo plunged in.


    As he submerged himself, Apollo''s initial shock was soon replaced by an overwhelming sense of disgust. The foul, putrid pus began oozing from every pore of his body. The stench was beyond revolting, a sickening odor that made him gag and nearly retch. The thick, viscous goo, a grotesque mixture of colors, never seemed to stop pouring out, turning the tannin water an inky black and sending the local wildlife scattering in alarm.


    Apollo scrubbed furiously, desperate to rid himself of the horrific substance. But the ordeal only grew worse. The pus began seeping from his ears, nose, eyes, and every other orifice, a relentless torrent of filth. It was the most disturbing and disgusting experience of his life. He felt a deep sense of empathy and newfound respect for Artemis, understanding now the true horror she had endured.


    Merina watched from the shore, a knowing smile on her face. "It is always the first time that feels the worst," she said with a chuckle, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she observed Apollo''s frantic attempts to cleanse himself.


    After a few minutes of nonstop cleaning, Apollo emerged from the river, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself. His blonde hair and yellow eyes were still the same, but his hair seemed more vibrant, and his eyes glowed with a new, lively brightness. His tan skin had become much softer and smoother, exuding a healthy, vibrant glow. Exhausted, he trudged wearily back to his group.


    Hyakinthos and the others blushed when they saw Apollo, unable to ignore his enhanced appearance.


    Artemis looked at Apollo with wide eyes. "Who are you?"


    "It''s me, Arty. Apollo."


    "What happened to you? And why are you so bright?"


    Apollo looked at his hands, noticing the warm glow radiating from his skin. He remembered the dreaded voice and the gift that had been bestowed upon him. "Sun-Born," he thought. This was his gift in action. Closing his eyes, he imagined dimming the glow, and as he did, the radiance gradually faded until it disappeared completely. Despite the change, he remained strikingly handsome.


    "How do you do that?" Artemis asked, her curiosity piqued.


    "It''s my gift, Arty. It''s called Sun-Born."


    "I have a gift too, but it''s not that cool. It''s called Moon-Born."


    "Maybe you''ll glow during the night?" Apollo suggested with a smile.


    "Maybe," Artemis replied, a hint of excitement in her voice.


    Hyakinthos stared at Apollo, captivated by his beauty. He had always thought Apollo was handsome, but now he seemed even more stunning. His gaze was interrupted by a call.


    "Haya," Pacificus called to the last child, "you are next."


    Hyakinthos swallowed nervously, tearing his eyes away from Apollo. The anticipation of what lay ahead filled him with both fear and excitement. He stepped forward.


    They quickly performed the ceremony. A drop of blood from Hyakinthos and blood from Pacificus were mixed into a bowl filled with holy herbs and sacred oils. When the concoction was thoroughly mixed, Pacificus used the ink to draw the symbol of Gaia on Hyakinthos''s back.


    "Are you ready?" Pacificus asked, ready to brush the final stroke with his finger.


    Hyakinthos inhaled deeply, recalling the fear in Artemis''s eyes when she stared at the tree. He had thought she was going crazy, running around Pacificus as if trying to avoid something invisible. Apollo had also behaved strangely, albeit with more calm and decorum compared to Artemis, but Hyakinthos remembered how scared he had looked and how he had started talking to the tree. Closing his eyes, Hyakinthos inhaled and exhaled, preparing himself to see what had scarred his siblings. "I''m ready, Big Brother," he finally said.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    With a stroke of his finger, Pacificus finished the drawing.


    The Goddess made her appearance before Hyakinthos and Pacificus. The tree twisted and turned, transforming into the shape of a woman and a man. The branches were both chaotic and neatly organized, her eyes simultaneously ugly and beautiful, her overall appearance uncanny yet pleasant. She was full of contradictions, so much so that Hyakinthos jumped and yelped in fear the moment he saw the goddess in her glory. Despite his mental preparation, Hyakinthos didn''t know how to feel while looking at the deity. She was both ugly and beautiful, chaotic and orderly. He didn''t know how to handle such a contradictory appearance.


    "Greetings, young one," said the Goddess of Life. Even her voice was full of contradictions: mocking yet genuine, truthful yet false, beautiful yet ugly. All of these qualities were present in her voice alone. "Step forward if you wish for my blessing, young Hyakinthos."


    With a shaking body, Hyakinthos did as the goddess requested¡ªor was it an order? Hyakinthos didn''t know.


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    The goddess looked at the young Hyakinthos, her form circling the terrified child. "Oh my," she said, her voice full of contradictions. She leaned closer to young Hyakinthos''s face, staring into his eyes. Her burning eyes were both hot and cold, full of chaos and order, spite and goodwill. She was so full of contradictions that Hyakinthos was utterly confused. "You are very beautiful, young Hyakinthos."


    He gulped, not knowing how to answer.


    "You are also full of doubt," the goddess continued. "Tell me honestly, young one... are you comfortable with your body?"


    "W-W-What?" Hyakinthos stammered. "What do you mean?"


    "You seem to like the fact that you are a boy... but you want to be more feminine... yet you don''t follow that desire."


    "B-Because it would be weird."


    "Weird? How come, young one? Enlighten me." Her voice was no longer full of contradictions; it took on a motherly tone.


    Hyakinthos looked at Apollo and Artemis, then at his mother and his other siblings.


    Seeing this, the goddess chuckled. "I can keep secrets, young one. Watch."


    Suddenly, a gust of wind formed around Hyakinthos. He looked around, panicking a bit.


    "Don''t worry, young one," the goddess spoke, her voice motherly and comforting. "Now they can''t hear you."


    Hyakinthos looked at Gaia, amazed and terrified not just because of her show of might but because of her nature. One moment she was full of contradictions; the next, she was motherly, friendly, and trustworthy.


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    Hyakinthos sighed deeply, casting a nervous glance at the goddess. "I... I like being a boy... I love being a boy, but... but I also admire girls. I admire them and I am also jealous of them... they are so pretty, they are beautiful, graceful, and gentle... I want to be like that. But I can''t because I am a boy. When I saw Big Brother Pacificus perform martial arts in front of me, I thought he looked so graceful and pretty that I thought to myself... I want to be like that too. I don''t like fighting... it''s too brutish, insensitive, and horrible... But as a boy, that is what I should be. I always wanted to be a boy. A graceful boy. A beautiful, graceful, and gentle boy. I don''t want to be brutish or insensitive."


    "Ahh, I see." The goddess looked at Hyakinthos''s family. "Young one... you are worrying too much. You have a family that loves you unconditionally. No matter what you do, your family will always love you."


    "But it''s weird."


    Gaia smiled. "Life is weird. Life is chaotic, brutal, ruthless, but it is also organized, kind, and merciful. It is not in my nature to dictate to you how you want to live... but you only have one life, young one. Treasure it well. Be brave and be yourself."


    "But my family might hate me if I do that."


    "You will be surprised," Gaia reassured young Hyakinthos. "Young Hyakinthos, to receive my blessing is to receive my gift and my consort''s gift. Both of our gifts come with flaws. But before I give you your gifts, tell me first. What path do you wish to walk on?"


    "I¡ª" A finger, or a branch, stopped Hyakinthos from talking. The act was surprisingly motherly.


    "Before you make your decision, young one, you need to think clearly. What do you want? What do you want to be?... But don''t worry, you could always choose to walk on another path if you don''t like your first decision.


    Hyakinthos turned his gaze from Apollo to Artemis, then to his mother and siblings, each face reflecting different facets of his life and desires. He pondered deeply, weighing his thoughts against the expectations and paths of his siblings. After a moment of introspection, he finally spoke, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within him.


    "I think... I would walk the path... the path of agriculture."


    A murmur of acknowledgment passed through the gathered onlookers, and the goddess¡¯s multifaceted presence seemed to shimmer and shift as she regarded Hyakinthos. Her appearance was a constant dance of contradictions¡ªbeautiful and unsettling, serene yet unsettling. This time, her gaze carried an air of expectation, making Hyakinthos tremble with a mix of awe and apprehension.


    "Why choose this path, young one?" Her voice, always a perplexing blend of opposing qualities, resonated through the air, wrapping around Hyakinthos like a cloak of uncertainty.


    Hyakinthos took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "Apollo wants to help others by choosing the path of apothecary. Artemis chose the path of the hunter to provide us with food and clothing. I want to support them both by becoming a farmer¡ªby choosing to cultivate and sustain the land."


    A fleeting smile touched the goddess¡¯s lips, though it was as enigmatic as her overall presence. A small, delicate branch extended from her form, brushing lightly against Hyakinthos''s forehead. The touch was so swift and subtle that he barely registered it, a mere whisper of movement.


    "Then it shall be as you wish," the goddess declared, her voice oscillating between warmth and detachment. "Hyakinthos, you will be endowed with the strength and power of ten men, but you shall also require the sustenance of ten men. I grant you this blessing¡ªFortis."


    As Gaia stepped back, her presence seemed to retreat into a sea of swirling light and shadow. Hyakinthos was suddenly overcome with an intense sense of dread, a primal fear gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. The very essence of his mortality felt exposed and vulnerable.


    Without warning, a chilling whisper filled his ears¡ªa voice so cold and haunting that it felt as though it were emanating from the depths of his soul. "You will be resilient to magic and curses, for your own body and soul will deny mana that is not your own," the voice of Thanatos intoned, imbued with a timeless, chilling finality.


    The whispering voice faded, leaving behind a lingering shiver of fear. Hyakinthos, now gripped by terror, bolted toward Pacificus, his steps frantic and desperate.


    "Live well, young Hyakinthos," the goddess''s voice echoed softly as she began to dissipate into the ether. "Be brave and be yourself." With those final words, the goddess and her consort vanished, leaving behind a lingering aura of their presence.


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    "Are you all right, Hyakinthos?" Pacificus asked, concern lacing his voice as the form of Gaia faded into the ether.


    Hyakinthos, still trembling from the experience, managed a shaky response. "Y-yes," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.


    "All right... are you ready?" Pacificus continued, his tone gentle but firm, sensing the weight of the moment.


    "I-I think so," Hyakinthos replied, his uncertainty still palpable.


    "Then show me your back... let us see your runes."


    With a deep breath, Hyakinthos turned, his back exposed as he prepared himself for the final revelation. Pacificus¡¯s fingers lightly touched the symbols etched into Hyakinthos''s skin, and as he did, a warm, radiant glow began to emanate from the runes.


    "Oh," Pacificus said, a chuckle escaping him as he observed the glowing symbols. "Your choice is quite fitting."


    "Close your eyes, Haya," Pacificus instructed softly. "And see your runes."


    Hyakinthos obeyed, shutting his eyes with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. Inside his mind¡¯s eye, he was transported to a vivid inner landscape. There, floating amidst the darkness, was his soul¡ªa delicate, radiant violet star that shone with a soft, ethereal light. Around this star, orbiting in a slow, graceful dance, was a small, luminous planet. The planet was draped in a velvety, violet sky that sparkled with distant, shimmering stars, and its surface was marked by gently rolling hills.


    The planet, though seemingly barren, held an undeniable promise. Its soil appeared rich and fertile, almost pulsating with the potential for life despite the absence of visible water. The hills and contours of the landscape were striking in their simplicity, rendered with a gentle grace that spoke of quiet strength and resilience.


    As Hyakinthos watched, the planet¡¯s surface gradually began to transform. The previously lifeless expanse started to come alive with subtle, intricate patterns¡ªrunes¡ªetching themselves into the planet¡¯s soil. These runes shimmered with a soft, inviting glow.


    Nervously, Hyakinthos read the runes in his vision;


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%" border="1">


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    <td style="width: 99.9634%" colspan="2">Hyankinthos Hyacinth Leto (I) Farmer</td>


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    <td style="width: 99.9634%" colspan="2">Blessing: Gift and Gaia and Thanatos: The blessed one will receive two gifts each one contains flaws</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 99.9634%" colspan="2">Farmer (Beginner Farmer)</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0731%">Strength</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0731%">Dexterity</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0731%">Agility</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">C/C</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0731%">Speed</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">C/C</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 50.0731%">Stamina</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">C/B</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 50.0731%">Vigor</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">C/B</td>


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    <td style="width: 99.9634%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Gifts:</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0731%">Fortis</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Skill: The gifted one will have their power multiplied by ten</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0731%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Flaw: Hunger is the gifted one''s greatest enemy for the gifted one will need to consume as much as ten men.</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0731%">Anti-Mage</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Skill: The gifted one''s body is resistant to curses and magic that intends to attack them.</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0731%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Flaw: The gifted one''s body is resistant to magic that intends to help or assist them.</td>


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    <td style="width: 99.9634%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Main Skills:</td>


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    <td style="width: 50.0731%" rowspan="11">Farmer</td>


    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Terraforming (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Planting (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Harvesting (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Maintenance (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Strong Back (Good)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Domestication (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Green Thumb (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Livestock (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Fertilization (Poor)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Cooking (Beginner)</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.8903%">Defender (Good)</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    As Hyakinthos gazed at his glowing runes, a smile spread across his face, illuminating his features with a momentary glow of contentment. Yet, this joy quickly faded as the memory of his siblings'' ordeals surfaced, overshadowing his initial elation. The recollections of Artemis''s terror and Apollo¡¯s subsequent struggle with the pus were vivid in his mind, and a wave of anxiety swept over him.


    With urgency propelling him, Hyakinthos sprinted away from the group, his heart pounding with a mixture of dread and determination. His steps were frantic, and the sheer speed of his flight seemed to intensify the growing sense of panic. As he ran, the air around him began to take on a foul odor, an unsettling harbinger of what was to come.


    The once-pristine air was tainted by the stench of his own impending distress, a putrid mix of decay and sweat. Despite the growing stench, Hyakinthos didn''t slow down; instead, he bolted towards the river with an almost frantic desperation. His movements were a blur of urgency as he neared the water, his mind solely focused on the need to escape the impending mess.


    With a final, desperate leap, he plunged into the river. The impact was sudden and jarring, sending a massive splash of dark, tannin-stained water into the air. The river, once a tranquil flow of deep brown, was now violently disturbed. As Hyakinthos submerged, the water around him darkened rapidly, turning an ominous black as it mixed with the pus seeping from his pores. The local wildlife, already skittish from previous disturbances, scattered in alarm, their natural habitat now a chaotic swirl of contaminated water.


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    Apollo, Artemis, and their entire family stood by the riverbank, eyes fixed on the water''s edge. They watched intently as Hyakinthos frantically scrubbed himself in the river, the tannin-stained currents swiftly washing away the vile pus that had oozed from his body. The sight was both a relief and a source of renewed sympathy for his siblings.


    Apollo''s face twisted in a grimace of disgust, yet his eyes softened with empathy. He remembered vividly the feel of the viscous pus seeping from his pores, the way it clung to his skin, and the relentless, nauseating odor that accompanied it. Beside him, Artemis shared his expression, her lips pressed into a tight line as she relived the memory of the sticky, stinging substance that had threatened to blind her when it oozed from her eyes. The experience had been terrifying, and the memory still lingered like a phantom pain.


    Merina watched her children with a mix of emotions, her usual serene smile touched with a hint of nostalgia. She understood all too well the horror of the miasma, a necessary but deeply unpleasant part of their ritual. The miasma, that insidious pus, was a symbol of the impurities being purged from their bodies, a necessary cleansing before they could receive their gifts of potential. She knew that this would not be the last time they would undergo this ordeal; the tradition dictated monthly rituals to keep the miasma at bay.


    As Merina stood there, she couldn''t help but feel a swell of pride mixed with her relief. She remembered the days when these children had first come into her care, each with their own tragic stories. Artemis and Apollo, rescued from a burning village by Lelantos, had been adopted at the same time. She could still see the soot-streaked faces of the two infants, their wide eyes reflecting the trauma of their narrow escape. Hyakinthos had been brought to her after his parents were killed in a brutal war, his small body trembling with fear and confusion as Leto placed him gently into her arms.


    Watching Hyakinthos now, struggling but determined, Merina felt an overwhelming sense of maternal pride. These children, once so vulnerable and dependent, were now taking their first steps toward independence. They had grown strong and resilient under her care, each facing their trials with courage and emerging stronger for it. The river, once a symbol of their purification, now reflected the light of their potential.


    As Hyakinthos continued to cleanse himself, Merina¡¯s thoughts drifted back to the many moments of joy and sorrow she had shared with her adopted children. She recalled the laughter and the tears, the small victories and the hard lessons. Every step of their journey had brought them to this point and she couldn¡¯t help but smile.


    After a few minutes, Hyakinthos emerged from the river, his long black curly hair released from their braids, cascading down his back in an elegant, shimmering wave. His violet eyes, now glimmering with a livelier luster, caught the light and sparkled with a renewed vitality. His smooth, soft brown skin radiated with vigor and health, making him appear almost ethereal. It was in this moment that everyone fully realized the extent of Hyakinthos''s beauty and femininity.


    Even the way he walked was graceful and refined, each step carefully measured to conceal his exhaustion. Artemis couldn''t help but blush at the sight of her brother, her cheeks tinged with a delicate pink. Apollo stood frozen, utterly starstruck by Hyakinthos''s radiant appearance. His heart pounded in his chest, and a deep blush spread across his face, which he couldn''t control. Time seemed to slow as he gazed at Hyakinthos, the world around him fading into the background.


    Their siblings were equally astonished, their eyes widening as they took in Hyakinthos''s transformation. He looked like a vision of elegance and beauty, every inch of him exuding a quiet grace that captivated their attention.


    Hyakinthos looked at his family, his expression serene yet exhausted. He simply uttered, "I''m hungry."


    "Then let''s eat," Pacificus replied warmly. "I baked some bread, and I still have some jam. I can cook more pemmican if you want."


    With that, Pacificus and the children gathered beneath the ancient tree. The rope that had been used in the ritual was now in the hands of Merina, who meticulously inspected the knots as she sat close to her lover, Pacificus.


    The three children shared their experiences with their younger siblings, which led to a barrage of curious questions.


    "What does the goddess look like?" one of the younger ones asked, wide-eyed.


    "I don''t know... she is both ugly and beautiful at the same time," Apollo replied, struggling to find the right words.


    "How can something so ugly be beautiful at the same time?" another sibling inquired, furrowing their brow in confusion.


    "I... I really don''t know... I don''t know how to describe it," Apollo said, shaking his head.


    "What is a gift?" a smaller child asked, their eyes gleaming with curiosity.


    "Hihi, it is when we receive two gifts from the two gods," Artemis explained with a giggle. "They are strong powers that have flaws."


    "What is a flaw?" the child pressed on, eager for more understanding.


    "Oh, that is simple," Artemis began. "It is a limitation. For example, I can be the strongest during the night, but in exchange, I¡ªHmmph!"


    "Don''t tell your flaw to anyone, Sis! Are you this slow!" Apollo interrupted.

 Chapter 14: The Festival Ends

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    Stalls sprang to life, their colorful lights flickering to life as lanterns floated up into the darkening sky. Each family had their own way of celebrating; some hosted grand feasts at home, while others took to the bustling stalls to indulge in treats and games.


    A huge man and a rather tall woman watched as children flocked to the stalls, eager to buy cheap food and play with one another. The atmosphere was filled with joy and excitement, but amidst the festivities, some of the blessed children displayed their competitive spirit.


    Artemis stood tall, drawing her bow with practiced ease. Her target, a hay bale set eighty meters away, was illuminated by torches that lit up the shooting range. The twilight deepened as the sun sank lower, casting a soft glow over the scene. She released her arrow, and it flew straight and true, hitting the target with a satisfying thud.


    She handed the bow to Apollo, her worthy adversary.


    Apollo took his position, the crowd of children growing larger as they gathered to watch the friendly competition. With the setting sun casting a halo around his head, Apollo''s figure seemed to glow in the twilight. He aimed carefully and released his arrow. Not only did he hit the target, but the sheer force of the shot sent the hay bale flying, drawing gasps of surprise from the onlookers.


    "How did you do that?" Artemis asked, astonished. "We are using the same bow."


    Apollo leaned in and whispered to Artemis, "It must be because of my skill. I am at my strongest during the day. You can probably do it too during the night."


    "Can I try?" Hyakinthos asked eagerly.


    "Sure," Apollo said, handing over the bow.


    Apollo and Artemis exchanged knowing glances, expecting Hyakinthos to struggle with the heavy bow, given his lack of experience.


    But Hyakinthos surprised them both. With a calm and steady hand, he drew the bow with ease and released the arrow. It didn''t hit the target, but it soared impressively.


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    "You have strong arms, Haya," Apollo remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.


    "Ahh... Thank you," Hyakinthos replied, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.


    "But you aimed too high, Haya. You should aim lower since your arms are so strong."


    "Okay," he nodded, then handed the bow back to Artemis. Their friendly competition resumed, the air buzzing with excitement.


    Apollo took the lead, his arrows consistently hitting the mark with precision. But as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky cloaked in darkness, Artemis began to glow softly.


    With the bow in hand, she nocked an arrow and drew the string back. The luminescence around her seemed to intensify, casting a mystical aura over her. She released the arrow, and it flew with incredible speed. The moment it struck the target, the hay bale was sent flying through the air, much to everyone''s astonishment.


    "Sister Arty is glowing!" one of the children exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder.


    "What?" Artemis looked down at her hands and saw that she was indeed glowing. "Woah... How do I turn it off?" she asked, turning to Apollo for guidance.


    "Just imagine you are no longer glowing," Apollo advised calmly.


    She closed her eyes and concentrated, visualizing her glowing figure fading away. Slowly, the radiant light dimmed until it finally disappeared, leaving her standing there with a look of awe and relief.


    As their competition continued, Apollo''s performance began to dwindle. His arrows, once steady and accurate, started to miss their mark. Hyakinthos decided not to draw the bow anymore, as the encroaching darkness made it impossible for him to see the target, the light of the seven moons are hidden by the clouds. Artemis, however, kept drawing the bow with unwavering determination. Each time she released an arrow, the distinct whistle of its flight through the air was followed by the satisfying thud of it hitting the hay.


    "How can you even see the target, Sister Arty?" Hyakinthos asked, perplexed.


    "What do you mean?" she replied with a shrug. "It''s not that dark."


    The others blinked in confusion at her response. Apollo, however, had an idea. "You can see through the dark, can''t you, sis?" he asked.


    "I can?" Artemis responded, equally surprised.


    "Yes, you can."


    "Oh... I guess I can," she smiled, drawing the bow one last time and hitting the target with ease. That was the final arrow shot, signaling the end of their friendly competition. No one had been keeping score, so there was no clear winner, but the camaraderie and enjoyment were the true victories of the night.


    As the festival continued, the children, accompanied by their remaining family members, strolled through the streets. The town was alive with activity, each stall and altar brimming with vibrant decorations. Statues and symbols of faith were adorned with flowers, each display a testament to the town''s devotion. The air was filled with laughter and the tantalizing aroma of food from the stalls. Hyakinthos, in particular, seemed more gluttonous than everyone else, eagerly sampling the various treats.


    The celebration was in full swing when the priestesses arrived, their procession a solemn yet beautiful sight. They marched through the town''s streets, swinging censers that filled the air with the fragrant scent of incense. The smoke enveloped each house and altar, purifying the entire town with its holy presence. The blessed children and their families felt a sense of warmth and comfort from the incense and the holy oils, a tangible blessing from the pantheon of gods.


    Yet, amidst the joyous celebration, three children felt a sense of unease. Hyakinthos, Apollo, and Artemis stood slightly apart, feeling out of place. Their gods, Gaia and Thanatos, did not belong to the pantheon being honored tonight.


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    After the march of the priestess, it was time for the children to march towards the temple once again.


    All of the children were wearing different clothes, each reflecting the faiths they had chosen to join. The variety in their attire was striking, with each robe bearing the symbol of their chosen deity.


    The children who had chosen to worship Vulcan wore red robes, the same color as fire, with the anvil and hammer proudly displayed on their backs.


    The new worshippers of Juno were adorned in vibrant robes of blue and green. Each robe bore the icon of Juno, her scepter with an asterisk on top, and as expected, all of her worshippers were girls.


    Followers of Vesta wore robes in a variety of colors, but they were united by a single symbol: Vesta''s torch, which was etched on their backs.


    The new worshippers of Minerva were dressed in robes of teal, with Minerva''s owl prominently displayed on their backs.


    The young worshippers of Mars wore blood-red robes, with his spear etched on their backs, embodying the god''s fierce and warlike nature.


    Neptune''s new worshippers were dressed in blue, with the god''s trident adorning their backs, reflecting the power and majesty of the sea.


    Amongst the colorful procession, three children stood out: Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos. They felt more out of place than ever, for the festival did not celebrate their gods, and they were the only ones who had not changed clothes.


    When they arrived at the nobles'' district, even more color was added to the parade. The young nobles'' clothes were far more glamorous than those of the commoners, with symbols etched in gold and silver that shimmered under the soft glow of the seven moons. Among the new additions were the worshippers of Jupiter, who wore pristine white robes adorned with silver and gold patterns of lightning. The symbol of the eagle was proudly etched on their backs, a testament to their allegiance to the king of the gods.


    The new worshippers of Jupiter stood proud, their eyes casting glances of disdain at the commoners, as if displeased that they should share the same path. Just like before, the young nobles marched with disciplined precision, their posture erect and steps measured, while the commoners remained more relaxed and playful, chatting amiably with one another as they walked.


    In the midst of this vibrant procession, three children stood out: Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos. They walked together, their unchanged attire making them conspicuous amidst the sea of colorful robes. Yet, it was their appearances that truly drew attention. Artemis, with her ethereal beauty, seemed to glow even more under the touch of moonlight, her presence captivating all who laid eyes on her. Hyakinthos, with his delicate and feminine beauty, caused many to mistake him for a girl, his features soft and striking. Apollo, though the least ostentatious, exuded a quiet, handsome charm that did not go unnoticed. His serene demeanor and radiant appearance made him stand out in his own right.


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    As they walked through the nobles'' district, the contrast between the dazzling garments of the worshippers and the simple, unchanged clothes of the three children was stark. Yet, their natural beauty and the aura of their divine affiliations made them a highlight of the parade, capturing the attention of all who witnessed their passage.


    "Whose children are those?"


    "Why are those noble children walking with the commoners?"


    "Gods above, they didn''t change clothes. They must be undecided."


    "That is a bad omen. Who are their parents? I must adopt those beautiful children."


    "Especially the girl."


    Artemis paled when she heard the nobles whisper.


    "Are you okay, sis?" Apollo asked, concern etching his handsome face.


    "No. Not at all," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her usual confidence shaken.


    Apollo looked at Hyakinthos, and the two of them exchanged uneasy glances. They couldn''t hear the whispers, but they felt a chill run down their spines as they noticed the nobles'' eyes darting towards them, laden with intrigue and judgment.


    The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on Artemis, making her look almost otherworldly, which only intensified the nobles'' interest. Her usually calm demeanor was replaced with an anxious pallor, her steps becoming less sure as the whispers grew louder. Hyakinthos, with his delicate, almost feminine beauty, also drew stares, his long hair catching the light in a way that made him appear even more striking. Apollo, though the most understated, felt the weight of their gazes too, his serene face now marked with a hint of unease.


    The nobles'' eyes lingered, their whispers growing in intensity, creating an almost palpable tension in the air. The children''s unease deepened, their previously confident strides faltering as they felt the scrutiny of the noble onlookers.


    Soon, they all arrived at the temple of creation. The three children were tired and on high alert, their senses heightened by the day''s events. They made way for the priestesses who were also entering the temple. Their grandmother, Leto, gave them a reassuring wink, and with her was Merina, dressed in the garbs of an acolyte of Vesta. She smiled at the three children, noticing their unease and offering a silent comfort. Some of their mothers were there too, dressed in the same garments as the acolytes of Vesta, adding a familiar presence that was somewhat calming.


    After the priestesses entered the temple, the gates were closed, sealing the gathering inside. The grand dome of the temple featured an open oculus at its center, allowing moonlight to cascade down and illuminate the sacred space. The moonbeam spotlighted the young acolyte of Jupiter and the acolyte of Juno, casting a divine glow upon them. Traditionally, this ceremony would be conducted by the priest of Jupiter and the priestess of Juno, who would also be married to symbolize the bond between the King and Queen of the Gods. However, tonight it was the young acolytes, no older than fourteen, who stood in their place.


    Once all the priestesses had taken their seats, the young acolyte of Jupiter stood up. "Children of Elion, the gods have blessed us once again," his youthful voice echoed throughout the vast temple, sounding both solemn and innocent. "You have started to walk on your paths, and with it, your own step towards independence."


    His declaration, despite its gravity, was tinged with the unmistakable tone of a child. The priestesses, seated in their places, exchanged amused glances, trying their best not to chuckle. The scene was endearing¡ªa young boy, barely a teenager, addressing his peers with the weight of a sacred duty. The flickering candlelight and the soft glow of the moon added to the magical atmosphere, creating an almost surreal setting for the children''s solemn moment.


    "That is not all. The Gods have given us two champions. Step forward, Boreas ''Zephyrus'' Astoria, Champion of Jupiter. Flora ''Iris'' Sieglyn, Champion of Juno," the young acolyte proclaimed, his voice echoing through the temple.


    Two children approached the young acolyte. The first, Boreas ''Zephyrus'' Astoria, had pale skin, black hair, and striking blue eyes. His handsome features stood out among his peers. Some of the nobles watched him with disdain, their expressions revealing a mixture of contempt and perhaps jealousy. Meanwhile, the commoner children paid little attention, their minds preoccupied with thoughts of where they might practice their new gifts, when they could hunt, and how much longer the sermon would last.


    The second child, Flora ''Iris'' Sieglyn, had vibrant red hair and piercing blue eyes. She moved gracefully, her beauty drawing admiration from her peers. However, as she walked alongside Boreas, the noble children didn''t bother to hide their disdain. Their emotions¡ªanger, jealousy, or both¡ªwere evident, though the exact reasons remained known only to them.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    "The Gods have given us two champions, and these two champions were bestowed with a special gift," the young acolyte continued, his voice nervous yet filled with a sense of reverence.


    In the midst of the ceremony, Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos exchanged glances and whispered among themselves.


    "Didn''t everyone get that?" Artemis whispered, her brow furrowed in confusion.


    "Apparently not," Apollo replied quietly.


    "Does that make us champions?" Artemis asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.


    "Probably not," Apollo answered with a slight shake of his head.


    Hyakinthos remained silent, then whispered, "Champions have names given to them by the Gods. I did not receive a new name, which means I am not a champion."


    "Neither did I," Artemis added softly.


    "Me too," Apollo confirmed.


    "So we are normal?" Artemis asked, seeking reassurance.


    "Yes," the two boys answered in unison, their voices low.


    "The gods have entrusted you with great power," the sermon continued, the young acolyte''s voice carrying a weight that belied his age. "And with great power comes great responsibility. Raise your fists to your hearts, champions."


    The two children, Boreas ''Zephyrus'' Astoria and Flora ''Iris'' Sieglyn, did as they were told, their expressions solemn and resolute.


    "Swear this oath: ''You will protect the sons and daughters of Elion. You will serve the sons and daughters of Elion with your power and destroy the enemies of humanity.''"


    "I swear," the two children intoned in unison, their voices ringing with conviction. "As a child of Elion, to protect my own species and guide them to transcendence. To destroy our enemies until there''s not a trace of their existence."


    "Good," the young acolyte said, nodding approvingly. He then turned his gaze to the other children. "Children of Elion, swear it to the Gods, that you too will serve humanity. Put your fists on your chests and swear it."


    The children did as they were instructed, their fists pressed to their hearts. The young acolyte led the promise, his voice echoing through the temple. "I swear, as a child of Elion, to protect my own species and guide them to transcendence. To destroy our enemies until there''s not a trace of their existence."


    The promise made by the children reverberated within the temple''s sacred walls, creating a powerful resonance that filled the air. The nobles, standing tall and dignified, recited the oath with a profound belief in its words, their faces reflecting a deep sense of duty and honor. They truly believed in the solemn vow they were making.


    In contrast, the commoners displayed a mix of reactions. While some among them were genuinely moved, their voices steady and committed as they made the promise, the majority appeared distracted, their minds wandering to thoughts of home and comfort. The disparity in their attitudes was evident, the noble''s solemnity starkly juxtaposed with the commoners'' impatience.


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    "The gods have entrusted you with great power," the sermon continued, the young acolyte''s voice carrying a weight that belied his age. "And with great power comes great responsibility. Raise your fists to your hearts, champions."


    The two children, Boreas ''Zephyrus'' Astoria and Flora ''Iris'' Sieglyn, did as they were told, their expressions solemn and resolute.


    "Swear this oath: ''You will protect the sons and daughters of Elion. You will serve the sons and daughters of Elion with your power and destroy the enemies of humanity.''"


    "I swear," the two children intoned in unison, their voices ringing with conviction. "As a child of Elion, to protect my own species and guide them to transcendence. To destroy our enemies until there''s not a trace of their existence."


    "Good," the young acolyte said, nodding approvingly. He then turned his gaze to the other children. "Children of Elion, swear it to the Gods, that you too will serve humanity. Put your fists on your chests and swear it."


    The children did as they were instructed, their fists pressed to their hearts. The young acolyte led the promise, his voice echoing through the temple. "I swear, as a child of Elion, to protect my own species and guide them to transcendence. To destroy our enemies until there''s not a trace of their existence."


    The promise made by the children reverberated within the temple''s sacred walls, creating a powerful resonance that filled the air. The nobles, standing tall and dignified, recited the oath with a profound belief in its words, their faces reflecting a deep sense of duty and honor. They truly believed in the solemn vow they were making.


    In contrast, the commoners displayed a mix of reactions. While some among them were genuinely moved, their voices steady and committed as they made the promise, the majority appeared distracted, their minds wandering to thoughts of home and comfort. The disparity in their attitudes was evident, the noble''s solemnity starkly juxtaposed with the commoners'' impatience.


    Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos, amidst the collective oath-taking, felt a sense of detachment. The grandeur of the ceremony, the echoing promises, and the solemnity of the occasion seemed distant, almost surreal. They placed their fists on their chests, their voices blending with the others, but their thoughts lingered on the whispers they had heard earlier and the unease that had settled within them.


    The temple, bathed in the soft moonlight, witnessed the convergence of diverse emotions. The young champions, newly anointed with their titles and responsibilities, stood as symbols of hope and strength. The nobles'' unwavering faith contrasted with the commoners'' mixed feelings, creating a rich tapestry of human experience and aspiration.


    As the echoes of the children''s promise faded, a profound silence enveloped the temple. The weight of the oath hung in the air, a testament to the shared destiny of the sons and daughters of Elion, bound by their vow to protect and transcend, united in their pledge to serve humanity and eradicate its enemies.


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    Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos, amidst the collective oath-taking, felt an overwhelming sense of detachment. The grandeur of the ceremony, the echoing promises, and the solemnity of the occasion seemed distant, almost surreal. They placed their fists on their chests, their voices blending with the others, but their thoughts were consumed by a growing feeling of alienation. The more time they spent in the temple, the more they felt as if they didn''t belong there.


    As the moonlight streamed through the oculus, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the assembled children, the three of them stood quietly, their minds drifting away from the pomp and ritual surrounding them. Artemis glanced around, her eyes lingering on the nobles'' proud faces and the commoners'' mixed expressions, feeling a pang of longing for the simplicity and familiarity of the orphanage or Pacificus''s farm. The cold, ornate walls of the temple, with their intricate carvings and golden inlays, felt suffocating compared to the open fields and warm, rustic atmosphere of the farm.


    Apollo''s gaze was distant, his mind filled with memories of peaceful days spent under the sun, training on Pacificus''s farm. The solemnity of the temple, with its echoing chants and rigid formality, contrasted starkly with the laughter and camaraderie he associated with the farm. He felt a deep yearning to return to the place where he felt truly at ease, away from the scrutinizing eyes and the heavy expectations of the ceremony.


    Hyakinthos, with his delicate features illuminated by the light of the seven moons, felt an acute sense of not belonging. The whispers and judgmental glances from the nobles had left a lingering discomfort. He longed for the quiet corners of the orphanage, where he could find solace in familiar faces and comforting routines. The grandiose surroundings of the temple only heightened his sense of isolation, making him wish fervently for the simplicity and warmth of home.


    As the echoes of the collective oath faded, the temple''s solemn silence seemed to amplify their feelings of displacement. The children around them, with their fervent promises and solemn vows, appeared to be part of a different world¡ªa world that Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos felt increasingly disconnected from. The elaborate ceremony, meant to unite and inspire, had only served to highlight their sense of otherness.


    They glanced at each other, their expressions reflecting a shared desire to escape the confines of the temple. The ornate walls and celestial symbols, meant to inspire awe and reverence, felt like barriers keeping them from the places where they truly belonged. The soft rustle of robes and the murmurs of the gathered crowd seemed distant, almost dreamlike, as their thoughts turned towards the familiar comfort of the orphanage and the serene beauty of Pacificus''s farm.


    The ceremony, with all its grandeur and significance, could not quell their longing for home. They stood there, fists to their chests, outwardly participating in the ritual, but inwardly yearning for the simplicity and warmth of the places they cherished most. The feeling of alienation grew stronger, each passing moment in the temple deepening their desire to return to where they felt truly at peace.


    "Now, children, go to your chosen faiths. Those who are still undecided, we will help you decide to what faith you must go," the young acolyte announced, his voice resonating through the temple.


    Noble and commoner children alike began to move towards their designated priestesses. The sea of colorful robes flowed as they sought out their chosen paths, each step filled with purpose and anticipation.


    Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos paled when they heard the order. Fear gripped them, and their hands began to shake as their hearts beat rapidly in their chests. The sensation was compounded by the stares of the other children, noble and common alike, who seemed to take a keen interest in their hesitation.


    For Artemis, with her heightened perception thanks to the blessings of the hunter, the scrutiny was almost unbearable. Every whisper, every glance felt magnified. But in the midst of the overwhelming sensations, she found a beacon of solace: her grandmother Leto and mother Merina, standing together, waving their hands and offering reassuring smiles.


    "Let''s go towards Mother Rina," she whispered to her brothers, her voice steadying as she spoke.


    "Good idea, sis," Apollo replied, relief evident in his voice.


    "Yes, please," added Hyakinthos, his voice quivering the most among the three.


    They made their way towards the group of Vesta''s children, their steps quickening as they sought refuge. As they approached, the children devoted to Vesta blushed and some even silently celebrated, thrilled to see the three eye-catching siblings coming their way.


    The trio reached Merina and Leto, who immediately placed their hands on the children''s shoulders, their touch offering a soothing comfort. The presence of their grandmother and mother, dressed in the garbs of Vesta''s acolytes, provided a sense of security they desperately needed.


    For a moment, the three felt a profound sense of peace. Vesta, the goddess of family, extended her protection over them through the warm presence of Merina and Leto. Despite the different faiths the children were destined to follow, the bond of family remained unbroken. The warmth of Vesta''s grace enveloped them, easing their fears and calming their racing hearts.


    The group of Vesta''s children, now joined by Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos, felt a shared sense of pride and joy. The three siblings, who had felt so out of place just moments ago, now found themselves embraced by the familial warmth and acceptance that Vesta embodied. The tension in their shoulders eased, and their breathing slowed as they stood with their family, surrounded by the comforting aura of the goddess of the hearth and home.


    As they stood there, nestled in the sanctuary of Vesta''s followers, the intimidating grandeur of the temple seemed to fade away. The whispers and glances of the other children became distant echoes. For now, they were safe, enveloped in the nurturing presence of those who loved them unconditionally.


    Everyone went to their respective faiths, forming clusters around their respective priestesses and acolytes. The air was filled with the mingling scents of incense and oils as the acolytes of Jupiter and the priestesses of Juno moved among the groups, performing blessings. The priestesses¡¯ faces were obscured by veils, adding an aura of mystery that made Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos feel increasingly uneasy. They felt exposed and scrutinized, the veils only heightening their anxiety.


    One priestess approached them, her presence commanding yet gentle. "Are you children orphans?" she asked, her voice calm and motherly, a tone that felt unsettlingly kind.


    "Yes," the three replied, their voices almost a whisper.


    "Are you followers of Vesta?"


    "Yes," they lied flatly, their voices betraying their fear.


    Merina and Leto raised an eyebrow but remained silent nonetheless.


    "Ah," the priestess said thoughtfully. "I see. The clothes you should be wearing must be gifted by your parents. So you children are not adopted?"


    "Yes," they answered truthfully this time.


    "I can adopt¡ª"


    "No," the three responded in unison, cutting her off.


    "Children!" Merina exclaimed, taken aback by their abruptness.


    "I''m sorry," the children quickly added, their voices filled with a mix of panic and apology.


    The priestess chuckled softly. "It''s okay, children. I understand. I''m just a stranger to you." She raised her veil, revealing a beautiful, serene face. "I am Caecilia ''Orian'' Marius Agrippa, wife of General Julius ''Orian'' Antonius Agrippa. He went to fight in the war. I haven''t seen him for three years now, but the Lotus of Juno told me he is still alive... I wish to be a mother to one of your children."


    The three children were silent, their hearts pounding in their chests.


    "We don''t want to be separated," Apollo finally said, his voice sincere. "I''m sorry."


    "Yes," Hyakinthos and Artemis agreed, nodding.


    "Oh," she said, her smile warm and understanding. "Don''t worry, you can still visit the orphanage. We live in the same town, after all."


    Despite her kind demeanor, her words only made the children more apprehensive. They knew her status¡ªa noble, and worse, the wife of a general¡ªadded a layer of intimidation.


    "Well, I can''t adopt all of the orphanage," she continued, her smile unwavering. "But I can adopt two of you. I can ask a friend of mine to adopt one of your siblings."


    The children paled further. The mention of their siblings struck a chord of fear. In their orphanage, growing up without being adopted was a common expectation. But this woman¡¯s genuine, almost naive, proposal to have her friends adopt their siblings seemed too sincere, too real.


    Another priestess joined them, her veil obscuring her features. "What are you doing, Sister Caecilia?"


    "Oh, Sister Augusta, I was just talking to the children and their mothers."


    The children paled even more. The fact that she referred to Merina and Leto as their mothers, rather than caretakers, added a genuine yet unsettling note to her words.


    "Can I adopt the other girl? The beautiful one with violet eyes?" Augusta asked.


    "I''m actually a boy," Hyakinthos said softly.


    A brief, awkward silence followed. Then Sister Augusta removed her veil, revealing a young, almost teenage face.


    A wide smile spread across her lips as she leaned towards Hyakinthos. "I want to adopt you," she said, her smile growing wider.


    A bell rang, its clear, melodious sound echoing through the temple. The two priestesses turned towards the center, where the acolyte of Jupiter held a small bell, and the acolyte of Juno rang it gently with a silver rod.


    "May the gods bless you and may your future be bright," the acolyte of Juno intoned, her voice still carrying the timbre of childhood. "Let us start our prayers."


    The priestesses moved to their respective groups, gracefully lowering themselves to their knees. Following their lead, all the children and worshippers knelt in reverence. Silence fell over the temple, a profound, almost tangible stillness. The only sound was the faint rustling of robes as everyone settled into their positions. Minutes, perhaps even an hour, passed in silent supplication, each person lost in their private communion with the divine.


    As prayers concluded, one by one, worshippers rose from their knees. They sat quietly on the floor, maintaining an atmosphere of solemn respect for those still in prayer. Gradually, as the last worshipper completed their devotions, everyone stood.


    "We give our thanks to the gods," said the acolyte of Juno, her voice reverberating through the hallowed space. "We have had another successful year and hopefully an even more successful future. We have given our thanks and blessings to our gods. We may now leave."


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    The children and worshippers began to file out of the temple, their footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone floors. The commoners, with their more relaxed demeanor, were the first to leave, chatting and laughing quietly among themselves. Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos stood to the side, watching intently as Marika and Leto engaged in conversation with the two noble priestesses. The interaction appeared cordial yet formal, their gestures polite, and their expressions composed.


    Artemis, with her heightened senses, tried to catch snippets of their conversation. However, the murmurs of the departing crowd, mixed with the echoing footsteps and rustling robes, created a symphony of sounds that overwhelmed the delicate threads of dialogue. Frustrated, she realized it was futile to try and listen in amidst the din. With a sigh, she decided to ignore it, letting her curiosity rest for now.


    The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, a gentle breeze carrying the scents of the evening. Artemis exchanged a glance with Apollo and Hyakinthos, a silent understanding passing between them. They were all exhausted, longing for the comfort and familiarity of the orphanage.


    As they made their way back, the imposing silhouette of the temple faded into the distance, replaced by the comforting glow of the orphanage''s lights.


    Upon arrival, they were greeted by the warm, comforting sight of their siblings and the mouthwatering aroma of food. Pacificus was there, tending to a hearty meal with a practiced hand. The lively, welcoming atmosphere of the orphanage was a stark contrast to the solemnity of the temple. The sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air, a symphony of familial warmth.


    Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos joined their siblings at the table, the fatigue of the day''s events beginning to melt away. The smell of home-cooked food and the presence of their loved ones brought a deep sense of relief and joy. They gathered around the table, their siblings'' chatter creating a vibrant, comforting backdrop.


    Pacificus served the food with a warm smile, his presence a beacon of stability and love. The three children, despite their weariness, felt a profound sense of contentment. The shared meal became a celebration of their bond, a moment of respite from the pressures and uncertainties of the outside world. The warmth of the hearth, the delicious food, and the company of their family wrapped around them like a comforting blanket, easing their tired spirits and filling them with peace.

 Chapter 15: Pacificus and Merina鈥檚 Passion

    After the meeting between the priestesses and acolytes, the religious figures solemnly exited the temple, their footsteps echoing against the stone floors. The night sky stretched above them, a tapestry of stars witnessing their silent procession.


    When Merina and her mother, Leto, returned to the orphanage, they were greeted by the heartwarming sight of children chatting animatedly while eating a simple meal of ricecakes and bread. The aroma of fresh bread filled the air, mingling with the sweetness of fruit juice in their mugs. Pacificus was there, his hands busy feeding the children alongside the other adults, his presence radiating warmth and kindness.


    Merina¡¯s heart swelled with affection as she exchanged smiles with her lover, Pacificus. She then made her way to the basement, the cool air wrapping around her as she descended the stairs. The basement was dimly lit, casting soft shadows on the walls. She approached a chest, its surface worn with age, and opened it to reveal scrolls made out of wool, carefully stored within.


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle this one, dear,¡± Leto said, her wrinkled hands gently resting on Merina¡¯s shoulder. Her touch was soft yet firm, a comforting presence. ¡°Go to Pacificus. You might not be able to see him again tomorrow, you know.¡±


    ¡°But mother, this is for them,¡± Merina protested, her voice tinged with determination. ¡°Apollo, Artemis, Hyakinthos¡ªthey finally have a chance to get adopted, and their potential parents are nobles. Their future has never looked so bright.¡±


    ¡°So is yours, dear,¡± Leto replied, her eyes filled with wisdom and love. She held her adopted daughter close. ¡°You can have a family of your own.¡±


    ¡°But mom¡ª¡± Merina started, her voice wavering.


    ¡°Go, dear. He¡¯s a keeper,¡± Leto insisted gently, her eyes twinkling with understanding.


    ¡°All right, Mom,¡± Merina acquiesced, a soft smile playing on her lips. She slowly removed the robes of an acolyte, the red fabric symbolizing the warmth of fire, revealing a simple but beautiful white blouse she wore underneath. The blouse was her creation, crafted with her own hands, each stitch a testament to her skill and care.


    Leto took the acolyte''s robes from her, holding them with a mix of reverence and affection. She watched as her daughter ascended the stairs, her steps light and filled with anticipation.


    At the top of the stairs, Pacificus looked up and saw Merina approaching. Their eyes met, and she smiled warmly at him, her heart brimming with love.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Pacy,¡± she said softly, her smile widening as she reached out to him.


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    The couple walked through the tranquil night, the seven moons casting a silvery glow on the path ahead. Merina rode gracefully atop Torrent, the young kirin, its plump body moving with surprising elegance. Pacificus walked beside them, his feet crunching softly on the ground, choosing not to add extra weight to the already burdened kirin. The night air was cool and refreshing, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant chirping of crickets.


    As they strolled, their conversation flowed naturally, a mix of joy and underlying bittersweetness. "Artemis is getting adopted," Merina said, her voice carrying a blend of excitement and melancholy.


    "That''s great," Pacificus replied, his tone warm and supportive.


    "So are Apollo and Hyakinthos," Merina continued, a slight smile playing on her lips, though her eyes hinted at deeper emotions.


    "They have the same parents?" Pacificus asked, curious.


    "No, only Apollo and Artemis have the same parents." Merina''s smile wavered, revealing a hint of bitterness. "It''s for the best. Apollo wants to be the best healer, and to do that, he needs to study. Artemis would have the best bows; her new family is rich, after all. I can say the same thing for Hyakinthos. They''re being adopted by nobles, after all."


    "Oh... those guys," Pacificus muttered, a hint of disdain in his voice.


    Merina raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Do you hate the nobles, Pacy?"


    "I don''t hate them. I just dislike them. They have no sympathy for commoners and even less sympathy for outsiders like me."


    She chuckled softly. "Don''t worry, Pacy. Not all nobles are like that. I think... their parents were once commoners too, actually. They seem to lack the same annoying pride most nobles have."


    "Well... I hope they are kind. They are parents, after all."


    "That''s why we need to talk to them first before they adopt the three. We have to make sure we are entrusting them to good hands."


    As they continued their walk, the landscape around them became more familiar, leading them to Pacificus''s cozy hut. The kirin, Torrent, trotted over to his barn, his movements becoming lazier as he neared his resting place. The barn door was left ajar, as the kirin preferred it that way, only shutting it when the cold became too harsh. Torrent immediately settled into the hay, letting out a contented sigh as he drifted off to sleep.


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    Inside the hushed, shadowed sanctuary of Pacificus''s hut, the atmosphere was electric with anticipation. The firelight cast flickering shadows that danced across the wooden walls, bathing the room in a warm, golden haze. The bed, now spacious enough for two, seemed to beckon with an inviting promise of closeness and warmth.


    As they set aside their tea cups, the charged silence between Merina and Pacificus became palpable. Their earlier conversation dissolved into a sea of unspoken desires, replaced by an urgent need to be close. Merina¡¯s eyes sparkled with longing as she reached out, her fingers lightly grazing Pacificus''s arm, her touch igniting a spark that quickly flared into full-blown passion.


    Merina leaned in, her lips capturing Pacificus¡¯s in a kiss that started tender but quickly evolved into something more urgent. Her kiss was hungry, demanding, as if she was trying to convey all her suppressed desire through the press of her lips. She pulled him closer, her body pressed tightly against his, feeling the heat of his skin through their clothing.


    Pacificus responded with equal fervor, his hands gripping her waist with a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness. He kissed her back with a fierce intensity, his lips moving with a passion that matched hers. His hands roamed over her back, his touch searing through the fabric of her blouse, igniting every nerve ending it encountered.


    "Pacy," Merina gasped between kisses, her breath hot and uneven. "I love you so much... I want to be with you... I want us to be one... will you accept me?"


    Pacificus''s response was immediate and fervent. He kissed her deeply, his hands cupping her face as if he was afraid she might disappear. "I love you, Rina," he breathed against her lips, his voice rough with emotion. "I will never leave you."


    The world outside ceased to exist as their passion enveloped them. Their movements grew more urgent, their bodies seeking and exploring with a desperate need to connect. They shed their clothing in hurried, eager motions, their skin meeting with a delicious warmth. Their kisses became fierce and possessive, their touches exploring every curve and contour, driven by an overwhelming desire to be completely entwined.


    The bed beneath them became a playground of sensation, their bodies moving in sync with a rhythm driven by pure, unrestrained passion. They lost themselves in each other, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they sought to merge into a single, pulsating entity. Their first experience together was marked by a wild, exhilarating energy, each touch and kiss igniting a fire that burned brightly, leaving them both breathless and profoundly connected.


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    Pacificus stirred softly in the early morning light, careful not to disturb Merina, who lay peacefully beneath the fur he had draped over her. Her serene expression and gentle breathing made him smile as he looked down at her, appreciating the quiet moments they shared. The sky outside was still shrouded in darkness, the sun not yet having made its appearance, casting a deep indigo hue through the small window. With a gentle and guided movement, he quietly slipped out of bed, his movements as tender as his feelings for her.


    In the dim, pre-dawn light, Pacificus set about preparing breakfast. The warmth of the fire he had kindled earlier filled the hut, casting a cozy glow that made the small kitchen area feel inviting and intimate. Shadows danced on the walls as the flames flickered, creating an atmosphere of calm and comfort. He pulled out the array of ingredients he had gathered, each item carefully chosen with Merina in mind. The earthy scent of fresh vegetables and herbs mingled with the smoky aroma of the fire. He pondered over what food would delight Merina this morning, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.


    The image of her mother, Leto, appeared in his mind. He remembered how Leto used to cook a particular dish from the northwest, a comforting and hearty meal called Ratatouille. The memory of its rich, savory aroma and vibrant, colorful presentation filled his senses. Pacificus could almost hear Leto''s soft voice as she explained the careful layering of the vegetables, the importance of seasoning, and the slow, patient cooking that brought all the flavors together.


    He approached the hearth, where a sturdy iron pot hung over the crackling flames. Pacificus first prepared the tomatoes, their ripe, red skins gleaming under the soft light. He sliced them into plump, juicy chunks, their vibrant color promising a burst of freshness. Next came the bell peppers, which he diced into colorful pieces, their sweetness adding a vibrant contrast to the dish.


    He reached for the vines of the man-eating plant, their tendrils coiled and dark green. With practiced hands, he trimmed and prepared them, their unique flavor adding an exotic touch to his dish. He used some tomato jam, a rich and tangy component, along with potatoes, which he peeled and diced with precision.


    Pacificus turned to the array of herbs and spices he had created from the man-eating plant, their fragrant aroma filling the room. He crushed garlic and onions with a stone mortar and pestle, their pungent scents mixing with the earthy notes of the herbs. The large mandrake, with its impressive size and deep roots, was carefully chopped. He knew its robust flavor would enhance the complexity of the dish.


    As he worked, Pacificus¡¯s hands moved with a practiced grace. He added the garlic and onions to the pot first, letting them sizzle in a generous splash of olive oil. The mixture began to bubble and release a savory aroma. Next, he added the diced potatoes, allowing them to brown slightly and absorb the flavors.


    He then incorporated the bell peppers and tomatoes, stirring them into the mix. The chopped mandrakes were added next, then the man-eating plant vines were added, their unique flavor blending into the simmering concoction. The tomato jam was stirred in, adding a layer of richness and depth. He seasoned the pot with the herbs and spices, tasting and adjusting to ensure the flavors melded perfectly.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The fire crackled as the pot simmered gently, the aroma of cooking ratatouille filling the small hut. The blend of fresh vegetables, aromatic spices, and the rich undertones of the man-eating plant created a mouthwatering fragrance that promised a delightful meal. Pacificus stirred the mixture with care, savoring the process as much as he anticipated the outcome.


    Pacificus glanced over at Merina, still sleeping soundly. He hoped that when she awoke, the meal would be a fitting expression of his love and appreciation. The simple act of cooking over the open fire, imbued with his dedication and affection, was his way of showing how much she meant to him.


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    Merina slowly opened her eyes, the remnants of their intense passion from the previous night still vivid in her mind. Her body felt pleasantly warm and content, a soft smile curling her lips as she recalled the tender moments shared with Pacificus. She felt a heady mix of emotions: a part of her longed to relive that intimacy, to feel his touch and closeness once more. Yet, another part of her hesitated, worried she might seem too eager or demanding.


    Her sleepy and dreamy thoughts swirled in a delightful haze, her senses still tingling with the memory of their closeness. She could almost feel his hands on her skin again, the echo of his whispers in her ear. But these reveries were gently interrupted when the aroma of cooking entered her nose. The rich, savory scent of simmering vegetables and herbs filled the air, pulling her further out of her dreams and into the present.


    Merina took a deep breath, savoring the comforting smell that promised a delicious meal. The cozy warmth of the fire and the familiar, loving presence of Pacificus working quietly in the kitchen filled her heart with a deep sense of contentment.


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    She opened her eyes slowly, her vision settling on Pacificus, who was deeply immersed in the task of cooking breakfast for them. The soft light from the flame, illuminated his face, highlighting the intense focus and quiet joy he found in the simple act of preparing a meal. Merina found herself mesmerized by the sight; for her, Pacificus was at his most beautiful when he was engrossed in something he loved. There was a serenity in his gaze, a precision in his movements, that captivated her.


    She kept one eye open, not wanting to break his concentration. She adored this moment, watching him quietly, savoring the sight of him doing what he loved. It made her feel an overwhelming sense of happiness and gratitude. She felt blessed that he was her man and that she was his woman. Perhaps it was Vesta''s blessing, but every time she witnessed Pacificus engaged in something he enjoyed, a warm glow filled her heart. It was a silent, shared joy, an understanding between them that spoke of deep love and mutual respect.


    Merina knew that Pacificus felt the same way when he saw her doing something she enjoyed, whether it was working on clothes or making cloth. He was always careful not to interrupt her, respecting her space and her passion. She wanted to return the favor, to let him have this moment of peace and fulfillment. So, she pretended to be asleep, sneaking glances at him with a soft smile on her lips. She was careful not to make any sudden movements, knowing how perceptive Pacificus was despite not being a hunter.


    When Pacificus finished cooking, he turned his gaze toward Merina, who quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep. She could feel the warmth of his eyes on her, a tender and loving look that made her heart flutter. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes slowly, peeking through her lashes, only to see Pacificus beginning to prepare for his morning practice.


    She wasn''t about to let that happen. Pacificus had made breakfast, and he was going to eat it. Rising from their shared bed, she allowed the blanket to slip, revealing her chest. "Good morning, Pacy," she said, her voice a soft, affectionate murmur.


    Pacificus turned, slightly startled, but his expression softened at the sight of her. "Merina... it''s still too early. The sun has barely risen."


    "I smell breakfast," she replied with a smile that could melt ice. "Let''s eat."


    They settled down to their meal, the warmth of the fire adding to the cozy ambiance of their morning. The food was delicious, a testament to Pacificus''s skill and care. As they ate, Merina enjoyed the simple pleasure of sharing this intimate moment with him.


    Pacificus, however, seemed distracted. His eyes, normally filled with love and tranquility, now held a shadow of worry and concern. She noticed the slight furrow in his brow, the way he occasionally glanced toward the window, as if contemplating the dangers that lay beyond.


    "Merina," he said softly, his voice tinged with apprehension as they ate, "are you okay?"


    Merina looked at him, momentarily confused by his question. But then she understood. He was worried about his upcoming journey into the Ever Resting Forest, a place so perilous that even dragons and demons avoided it. She reached to him, placing her hand over his, offering a reassuring smile. "Of course," she said, her voice gentle and soothing. "I''m perfectly fine."


    "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.


    "Of course, Pacy. What worries your heart, my love?"


    "Rina... that night," he began, both of them blushing furiously, "that was the first time I did it with someone. You were so warm and... so beautiful... you were addicting... I really don''t know how to describe it."


    Merina''s heart skipped a beat as she looked at him. That had been her first time too, and she remembered the small trace of blood on their bed.


    "I," Pacificus continued, his voice filled with concern, "I saw blood on our bed. I just want to know if you are okay. I don''t want to hurt you again. I... I just hoped that you felt as good as I did."


    Merina''s cheeks burned even brighter. Why were they talking about this so early in the morning? Yet, despite the awkward timing, there was something deeply touching about the way he turned what could be seen as perverse and depraved into something so wholesome and heartfelt. It was supposed to be romantic, and it truly had been. She had no doubts about his love for her.


    She quickly finished her meal, then looked at Pacificus, whose face showed a mix of shock and confusion.


    Taking a clean handkerchief, she dabbed at her lips. "Pacy," she called softly.


    "Yes? Rina," he replied, still confused.


    She leaned in and kissed him. The kiss was deep, filled with affection and longing. She pushed him gently towards their bed. "I love you," she whispered against his lips. "I want you... I also wanted you to feel good. Like I did... Would you like to do it again?"


    Pacificus responded with a fervent kiss, and their second time of passion began.


    The room seemed to grow warmer as their bodies entwined, each touch igniting sparks of desire. Merina felt the strength and tenderness of Pacificus''s hands as they roamed her body, exploring familiar yet thrilling terrain. His touch was gentle but possessive, making her feel cherished and desired.


    Her own hands traced the contours of his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath her fingers. Every kiss, every caress, was imbued with a deep, abiding love that made the moment not just physical but profoundly emotional.


    Their breaths mingled, hearts beating in a synchronized rhythm as they moved together, each sensation heightened by their mutual love and respect. Merina''s eyes fluttered shut, lost in the intensity of their connection. She felt Pacificus''s lips on her neck, his breath hot and tantalizing. She arched into him, wanting to be closer, to feel him completely.


    The world outside ceased to exist as they surrendered to their passion, every touch, every sigh, an affirmation of their love. As they moved together, the bond between them deepened, each moment a testament to their unbreakable connection. Their second time was even more beautiful, more profound, as they discovered new depths of intimacy and affection.


    However, this passion of theirs had caused them to lose track of time. When the couple finally stirred, the sun was already high in the sky. They had spent hours exploring each other''s bodies, oblivious to the passing hours. It was nearing noon, and Pacificus was struck by a wave of shame, realizing he had missed his morning prayers, his practice, and the time he was supposed to spend tending to his farm.


    He hurried to feed a stubborn Kirin, who seemed annoyed that his breakfast was late. The majestic creature snorted and pawed the ground, its large eyes glaring at Pacificus with a hint of reproach. The Kirin''s shimmering scales and ethereal mane added a mystical aura to the otherwise mundane task of feeding it.


    On the porch, seated on a treadmill, Merina shared his sense of shame. She was busy crafting a water bag for Pacificus, her hands moving deftly as she stitched the sturdy material together. She wanted to ensure he stayed hydrated during his time in the Ever Resting Forest. She also planned to give him a leather bag for his travels, her mind filled with thoughts of his safety and well-being. Her love for him was evident in every careful stitch, in the way she selected the materials, and in the precision of her work.


    The couple felt a deep sense of shame. Their passion, their lust, was dangerous. They both realized that they had become addicted to one another, and if this continued, it might cost them their lives. They sighed in unison, their hearts heavy with the weight of their realization.


    When the two met on the porch, they both blushed and sighed again. The air was thick with unspoken words and shared emotions.


    Merina spoke first, her voice tinged with a mix of regret and resolve. "Never again?"


    "Never again, my love," Pacificus replied, his voice firm but gentle.


    They nodded in agreement. But as Pacificus turned to go make a meal for them, he felt Merina''s hand on his clothes. "Only at night," she said with a blush, her eyes pleading.


    "G-good idea... only at night... but not too late," he stammered, his own cheeks flushing.


    "Of course, Pacy."


    Pacificus went to the kitchen with a smile, struggling to keep his thoughts focused on the task at hand. He busied himself with preparing a meal, the familiar motions of cooking helping to ground him.


    Merina returned to her work on the porch, trying her best to concentrate on the task at hand. She knew this new agreement would be troublesome, but she loved Pacificus too much to let their passion interfere with their responsibilities. Her mind drifted to thoughts of their future, of the life they were building together, and she smiled despite the lingering sense of shame.


    Their troubled thoughts were soon interrupted by the arrival of three children.


    Pacificus and Merina exchanged confused and surprised looks when they saw the three children standing before them. The couple hadn''t been expecting visitors, especially not today, a day considered sacred, a holy day of rest and relaxation after the festival. The children''s presence was unexpected.


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    "Mother Rina," says one of the girls, her voice filled with excitement and a hint of urgency, "can we make a house here?"


    "Huh?" the couple replied in unison, their confusion evident. Their eyes met, sharing a silent communication, a blend of curiosity and concern.


    Their faces turned pale, then twisted into anger when they saw Artemis''s face. It was covered in bruises, scratches, and a black eye, partially hidden by her disheveled hair. The sight of their daughter in such a state ignited a fury within them both.


    At first, they didn¡¯t recognize Artemis due to her unusual attire. She wore a violet blouse made from fine silk, the kind typically seen on noble children. The delicate embroidery on the blouse depicted intricate floral patterns, each petal stitched with meticulous care. Under different circumstances, Merina would have admired the artistry of the garment, but now, all she could see were the injuries marring her daughter¡¯s face.


    The other children, Apollo and Hyakinthos, were dressed similarly. Hyakinthos wore a long, elegant tunic that reached his feet, made of rich purple fabric that shimmered in the light. The tunic was adorned with golden threads, creating an intricate design that highlighted the craftsmanship of noble attire. He also wore a stola, a cloak-like garment draped over one shoulder, giving him the appearance of a noble princess. Apollo donned a violet tunic that covered his arms and extended to his feet, the fine material clinging to his form. The tunic, resembling the attire of a royal scholar, was decorated with silver embroidery that depicted scenes of scholarly pursuits. Merina instantly recognized these clothes as belonging to the noble district.


    Merina immediately embraced her children, her protective instincts taking over. "Come inside," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "Tell me everything."


    Inside, Pacificus quickly prepared tea for the children, his movements precise but tense. The fragrant aroma of the brewing tea filled the room, providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. Once the tea was ready, he grabbed his mother''s huge sword and stationed himself on the porch. His posture was rigid, and though he didn''t speak, his fury was palpable. His grip on the sword was tight, knuckles white with restrained anger. Even the children could feel the intensity of his anger, a side of Pacificus they had never seen before.


    As Merina held the children, her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. She was filled with both a fierce protectiveness and a deep sorrow for the pain they had endured. She glanced at Pacificus, who stood guard outside, his back straight, every muscle tensed with a readiness to defend his family. His usual gentle demeanor was replaced by a formidable presence, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a hardened gaze.


    Merina¡¯s heart ached seeing Pacificus like this, knowing he was struggling with his own feelings of guilt and anger. The love and tenderness she felt for him deepened, mingled with a shared resolve to protect their family. She looked at him, their eyes meeting briefly through the doorway, and in that moment, a silent vow passed between them: they would do whatever it took to keep their children safe.


    Pacificus¡¯s thoughts mirrored Merina¡¯s. As he stood on the porch, his mind raced with images of the children¡¯s bruised faces and the need to find out who had harmed them. His love for Merina and their children fueled his determination. He glanced back inside, watching Merina as she comforted the children, her strength and calm presence grounding him even as his anger simmered beneath the surface. He took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand.

 Chapter 16: The Three Misfits

    The sun hadn''t risen yet, but the children were already out of their beds, diligently attending to their chores. Demether was busy cooking, the comforting aroma of breakfast filling the air, while her brothers and sisters went about their tasks. Some were cleaning the bathroom, scrubbing and rinsing with meticulous care, while others tended to their small farm, checking the crops and feeding the animals. The rhythm of their work was a familiar dance, one they performed each morning with practiced ease.


    As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, signaling the start of a new day, the children would usually begin their practice. However, today felt different. There was an emptiness in the air, a noticeable absence of three beloved figures. Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos were missing.


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    Just yesterday, they had been adopted by three nobles. The remaining children were happy for their siblings, but their joy was tinged with a sense of loss. They recalled their grandmother''s stern warning to the new parents: "All right, dear, listen closely. Since we are so near each other, these children will be staying in the noble quarters to acclimate to the new culture. If they feel unwelcome or unhappy in the noble district after a week, I shall take them back."


    "Don''t worry, Priestess Leto," reassured a woman, her beauty accentuated by the fine violet clothes she wore. "I will make sure to give these two the love they deserve. Artemis here seems to have a talent with the bow; she will be a great hunter. Apollo has a bright mind and would become a great healer, but he needs education."


    The old lady nodded in approval. "I agree."


    "I will take good care of Hyakinthos," said another woman, younger and equally well-dressed. Her voice carried a note of genuine enthusiasm. "I''ve never been a mom, but I''ve always wanted a child. He is a perfect fit for me since I have a garden that needs a hand. You like flowers, don''t you, Haya?"


    "Y-yes," Hyakinthos replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He wasn''t lying, but he wasn''t entirely comfortable either. Just like Apollo and Artemis, he felt a sense of awkwardness around these women. They could sense their kindness, and it was genuine, but there was a disconnect. To the three children, these women were simply strangers who had barged into their lives, into the orphanage, to adopt them. The unfamiliarity was jarring, and despite their politeness, they couldn''t shake the feeling of being uprooted.


    That night, the orphanage felt an unusual emptiness. It was the first night without Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos. The usual hustle and bustle seemed quieter, the absence of their laughter and chatter palpable. The children and the caregivers moved through the familiar routines with a subdued energy, each of them acutely aware of the missing members of their family.


    It wasn''t just the loss of three children that marked that night. Their mother, Merina, had found a husband. Pacificus, a man the children had come to admire and respect, had captured her heart. This wasn''t really a loss, though, but more of a transformation, a newfound happiness for the orphanage. They knew that Merina would still visit them from time to time, just like their other mother figure, Asteria. The love and care she had shown them would not be forgotten or diminished by her new role as a wife.


    Even the youngest children understood that it was only a matter of time before Merina and Pacificus would marry. The signs were clear to everyone¡ªthe way they looked at each other, the tender moments they shared, the palpable bond between them. This new chapter in Merina''s life was inevitable and welcomed, though it did bring a bittersweet change.


    <hr>


    Apollo and Artemis woke up early, their internal clocks still synchronized with the rhythms of the orphanage. The sky was still cloaked in darkness, the first light of dawn yet to pierce the horizon. With no chores to attend to, the siblings decided to make use of the mansion''s sprawling garden. The air was cool and crisp as they stepped outside, a stark contrast to the warm, stuffy confines of their new rooms.


    The garden was a verdant paradise, meticulously maintained and bursting with life. Yet, as they began their routine of drawing their bows and offering prayers to the largest tree, they couldn''t shake a strange, unsettling feeling. Despite the lush greenery and vibrant flowers, something about the garden felt oddly sterile, as if it lacked the wild, untamed spirit of the forest they were accustomed to. The carefully pruned hedges and perfectly arranged flowerbeds seemed too orderly, too controlled.


    Deciding to ignore the unsettling feeling, Apollo and Artemis set off on a jog, their feet padding softly on the dewy grass. The morning air was filled with the faint, sweet scent of blooming flowers. As they rounded a corner, they bumped into Hyakinthos, who looked equally restless. He decided to join them, adding a third pair of feet to the rhythmic sound of their jog.


    Dressed in their pajamas, the trio made an unusual sight as they jogged through the garden. The flowing fabric of their nightclothes fluttered with each stride, catching the soft glow of the early morning light. They passed by priestesses and acolytes, who watched them with a mixture of bewilderment, scandal, and amusement. The sight of three children, still in their sleepwear, engaging in vigorous exercise was unexpected and amusing.


    As the first rays of the sun finally peeked over the horizon, casting a golden hue over the garden, Apollo and Artemis were back at the tree, practicing their archery with renewed focus. The quiet thrum of their bowstrings and the soft thud of arrows hitting the target punctuated the stillness of the morning.


    A woman dressed in a luxurious purple blouse, adorned with intricate silver and gold embroidery, approached the children. The early morning air was still cold, and she had wrapped herself in a thick, elegant cloth that covered her entire body. Her presence exuded warmth and grace as she smiled at them.


    "You are early today, children," Caecilia called out, her voice gentle and affectionate.


    "We actually started a bit late, Cae¡ªMom," replied Artemis, her voice carrying a hint of awkwardness as she adjusted to her new mother''s presence.


    "Do you love the bow, Artemis?" Caecilia asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.


    "I do. It helps me protect myself. I want to become strong," Artemis responded, her determination evident.


    There was a flicker of sadness in Caecilia''s eyes as she watched the two children draw their empty bows. "Why?" she asked softly, "Do you want to go to war, Artemis?"


    "What? No. I don''t want to. I wanted to hunt so I could eat meat, so I could feed my family. I also wanted to be strong so I could protect myself... I don''t want to be hungry and helpless again."


    Caecilia chuckled softly at her daughter''s answer. "You don''t have to hunt here, Artemis. You don''t need to fight here either."


    "Why?" Artemis asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.


    "Because we have someone else to do it."


    "Then what should I do? I chose the blessing of the hunter so I could hunt and feed myself and the others."


    "You don''t need to, Artemis. We have hunters of our own that can hunt for us."


    Artemis paused, deep in thought. Apollo looked at his sister, his brows raised in curiosity.


    "Then I''ll hunt for the others, I guess," she finally answered. "There are hungry people out there. I will hunt for them."


    Apollo rolled his eyes at his sister''s response. Caecilia simply chuckled. "Hunting is dangerous, Artemis."


    "I know... That is why I am training. So I could hunt in the Ever Resting Forest."


    Caecilia''s face paled at Artemis''s words.


    "Yeah, she''s been planning that for years, actually," Apollo chimed in. "The beasts in the Ever Resting Forest are huge," he remembered the cockatrice meat he had eaten, "and delicious."


    Caecilia blinked in surprise but then smiled. "Anyway, children... you should come inside."


    "Why?" the three of them asked in unison.


    "Because... you should not go outside wearing only underwear."


    The three of them looked down at their clothes. They were dressed in simple, long, sleeveless tunics that were soft, light, and pleasant to the skin. They glanced at each other in confusion.


    "This is underwear?" Hyakinthos asked, bewildered.


    "Looks much fancier than the clothes Merina makes," Apollo whispered.


    "I prefer those clothes," Artemis added. "It feels as if this one might rip if I stretch too hard."


    "Come, children, you should come inside. Your tutors will be waiting," Caecilia urged.


    "Tutors?" Apollo asked, his curiosity piqued.


    "Of course," Caecilia smiled warmly. "You shall have the best education in this land. That includes you, Hyakinthos."


    The three children went inside the mansion, where they were greeted by a group of attentive servants. The servants quickly set about dressing them in luxurious clothing. The children felt a wave of embarrassment wash over them, unaccustomed to such opulence and attention. The rich fabrics and intricate designs of their new attire were a stark contrast to the simple garments they were used to.


    Not long after, a woman dressed in a luxurious purple blouse adorned with silver and gold embroidery appeared before them.


    "Haya," she called softly.


    "Augu-Mother," Hyakinthos replied, his voice tinged with respect and a bit of nervousness.


    "When you are going out, tell me," Augusta said, her tone filled with concern. "It''s still cold. The sun hasn''t even risen yet. You worried me."


    "I''m sorry, A-mom," Hyakinthos replied, looking down at the floor.


    "Oh, Haya," she sighed, her eyes scanning his luxurious yet unfamiliar attire. To Hyakinthos and his siblings, the clothes felt overwhelming, but to Augusta, she sees it differently.


    "Come, Haya," she said gently, lifting him into her arms, much to the surprise of his siblings. "We should dress you in an attire that suits you."


    "I think this is already too much, Au-mom," Hyakinthos protested softly.


    "Nonsense," Augusta replied with a warm smile. "My son is the most beautiful child in this world, and I want everyone to know it." With that, she carried Hyakinthos away, leaving Apollo and Artemis standing in the grand hallway.


    "Did she just carry Haya like a kid?" Apollo asked, bewilderment clear in his voice as he turned to Artemis.


    "I¡ªI think so," Artemis replied, equally surprised.


    "She''s strong... I guess it''s true," Apollo mused, his eyes wide with astonishment.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "What is?" Artemis inquired, curiosity piqued.


    "She is actually a warrior," Apollo answered, the realization dawning on him as he watched Augusta carry Hyakinthos with ease and grace.


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    The sun had fully risen, casting a warm glow over the mansion and its expansive grounds. The siblings had separated to begin their day, each immersed in their new routines.


    Hyakinthos, dressed in a long purple tunic adorned with a stola, admired his reflection in a nearby mirror. The tunic¡¯s rich fabric and the intricate design of the stola made him feel regal. His mother, Augusta, watched him with a proud smile.


    "It suits you, Haya," she said, her eyes gleaming with pride.


    "Thanks, Mom," Hyakinthos replied with a genuine smile, feeling a sense of belonging in his new attire.


    "Now, my dear, go. Your tutor is waiting. Mother has business to attend to."


    "Yes, Mother," Hyakinthos replied, giving her a respectful nod before heading to the large garden within the mansion''s grounds. Despite the beauty of the garden, he felt a bit out of place. The garden was meticulously maintained by well-dressed farmers, but their attire seemed almost like rags compared to his luxurious clothes. The crops, which included bell peppers, tomatoes, and potatoes, appeared smaller and perhaps less delicious than those from Pacificus''s farm.


    As he made his way to his instructor, he noticed a young girl planting herbs. She looked up as he approached.


    "Are you Hyakinthos?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm.


    "Yes," he replied.


    "Alright, young one, let''s get started," she said, her tone indicating a mix of patience and expectation.


    Meanwhile, Apollo was inside the mansion, surrounded by an impressive stack of scrolls. Through a nearby window, he could see his sister Artemis running laps in the garden, shooting arrows with her classmates. He kept an eye on her while examining the scrolls before him.


    A woman entered the room, looking rather haggard with dark bags under her eyes, suggesting many sleepless nights.


    "Are you Apollo?" she asked, her voice slightly weary.


    "Yes," Apollo replied, looking up from his scrolls.


    "Are you always glowing?" she asked, peering at him with curiosity.


    Apollo glanced down at his skin, which looked perfectly normal to him. "Pardon?" he asked, puzzled.


    "Just ignore it. Let''s get started. Did you read all of that?" she asked, gesturing to the stack of scrolls on his table.


    Apollo nodded. "Yes, they were interesting. I didn''t know cockatrice blood had many uses."


    A smile appeared on the woman''s face, a flicker of enthusiasm lighting up her tired eyes. "Alright, young one, my name is Hypatia. I''ll be your teacher."


    Artemis was running laps around the training ground, determined to keep pace with her classmates, all of whom were boys. Despite knowing she was the slowest due to her own perceived flaws, she pushed herself relentlessly. She was the smallest among them, but she refused to let that deter her. Each time she loosed an arrow at the target, her frustration grew as her accuracy remained less than stellar. But she used that frustration to fuel her drive, pushing herself harder with every lap.


    Her instructor watched with keen interest. As the training session progressed, he noticed something remarkable. One by one, her classmates began to fall, exhausted. Their aim grew increasingly erratic, and even the older, more experienced boys began to falter. Yet there was Artemis, still running, still pushing, her aim consistent despite her obvious fatigue. A smile crept onto the instructor''s face as he observed the young girl. She was tired and sweating, but she never stopped trying.


    "Enough, Artemis," the instructor called out, his voice firm yet gentle.


    "I still haven''t broken my record," Artemis replied, surprising the old man with her determination. He could see the frustration in her eyes, but he also saw something else: grit and tenacity.


    "Suit yourself," he answered, allowing her to continue.


    Eventually, her pace began to slow. Instead of collapsing like the others, she walked until she finally kneeled down to pray. There was no tree in sight, so she prayed in the open. "I have become weaker," she lamented. "I can''t even break my past record."


    The instructor raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her dedication and self-criticism.


    Their next training session was swordsmanship. The old instructor allowed Artemis to finish her prayer while her classmates sparred with one another, wielding wooden swords that could still deliver a painful blow. The sounds of clashing wood filled the air as they trained.


    Finally, it was Artemis''s turn to spar. Her opponent was a huge boy, older and much stronger. Artemis knew she couldn''t match him in strength, but she had a strategy in mind. She tries to recalled her Pacificus''s advice: "When you encounter a stronger enemy."... what was that again? Oh yeah.


    As the match began, Artemis darted away from her opponent. Her classmates laughed, and the instructor raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Her opponent, cackling, gave chase. But Artemis was nimble, evading every swing and slash without even drawing her own sword. She simply ran, using her agility to outmaneuver him. Her opponent grew increasingly frustrated and exhausted, his breath ragged, his arms and legs weakening.


    Then, with a swift and precise move, Artemis struck, bumping him on the head with the wooden pommel of her sword. She won the spar, but instead of feeling victorious, she felt a deep sense of frustration. She was tired and still dissatisfied with her own performance. "Why am I slow?" she complained inwardly. "I hate this flaw!"


    Her instructor watched her, a mix of admiration and curiosity in his eyes. Artemis had won, but she was far from content, her mind already turning over ways to improve.


    The spars continued, and Artemis won each one until finally, it was the last round.


    Her enemy seemed familiar, as if she had seen him once.


    "Go get her, Zephyrus!" her classmates cheered.


    "Show that peasant where she belongs!"


    "She''s already tired! Destroy her!"


    Apollo was temporarily distracted by the commotion. So was Hyakinthos, who was nearby, just a wall away.


    "What was that?" he asked.


    "It''s the boys," his mentor replied. "Want to see them?" she asked with a grin.


    "Why not?" Hyakinthos answered. "Arty is there."


    "Arty?"


    "She''s my sister."


    "There''s a girl in the gymnasium? This I''ve got to see."


    "Is it that big of a deal?"


    "Of course. You are a girl too, so you would know. People always expect us to be more womanly and bear children. It is quite rare to see a girl in the gymnasium because they usually get crushed by the bigger boys."


    "That can''t be right. Au¡ª I mean mom is a warrior. She is definitely strong... also, I''m not a¡ª"


    "Let''s go, Haya. It''s getting exciting." She grabbed Hyakinthos by the hand as they went to the gymnasium, which was literally a wall away.


    Meanwhile, Apollo was inside the mansion, temporarily distracted by the commotion outside.


    "What is going on out there?" Apollo asked, looking out the window as he heard the noise.


    "This is a terrible spot to study," his teacher complained. "Let''s move, Apollo."


    "I would rather not," he calmly answered. "My sister is there."


    His teacher looked out the window, seeing a duel between the champion and a smaller girl. "Well, that''s not fair," she complained. "Damn barbarians! There is more to this world than fighting and violence... Don''t be like these barbarians, Apollo. You deserve better."


    "Thank you, teacher... but... I can''t abandon my sister."


    "Ahh... siblings... you don''t look alike th¡ªOhhh... oh my foul mouth."


    Apollo glanced at his instructor. "Teacher, you are dressed like Mother Asteria. Do you know her?"


    She smirked. "I''m more surprised you didn''t know me... I came from the same orphanage, you know."


    "What? How come I didn''t see you then?"


    "I was married to my job, young one."


    "Huh? How could that happen?"


    "Ahh, I''m so jealous of the youth. Don''t mind the words of an old hag like me, kid. Just enjoy your childhood and learn some more while you are still at it."


    "You don''t look that old, Mother Hypatia."


    She smiled. "Thank you."


    "I mean, Mother Merina is the same age as you, and she is already staying with her lover. I think they will get married soon. I just don''t know wh¡ª"


    "Wait, wait, wait. Merina?"


    "Yes."


    "Short black curly hair, blue eyes?"


    "Yes, but she¡ª"


    "The tailor tomboy?"


    "That''s what you guys call her."


    "GODS ABOVE! I''M THE ONLY ONE WHO IS STILL SINGLE AMONG US!" she suddenly shouted. "Since when?"


    "Three years ago."


    "It''s been three years?... Oh my... Oh... this can''t go on."


    "Ahh, Mother Hypatia."


    "Something needs to change."


    "Hypatia."


    "This can''t go on. I need to change."


    "...."


    Meanwhile, Artemis stared at her opponent. There was a calm demeanor about him that she found infuriating. His eyes looked down on her with a disdain that made her grip on her sword tighten in frustration. She remembered Pacificus and his teachings: to train under him was to learn control¡ªcontrol of the body and the mind, including one''s emotions. She took a deep breath, calming herself, and began thinking of a way to beat yet another opponent who was stronger than she was.


    She adopted a high stance, mimicking the one she had seen Pacificus use countless times during his practice swings. Her movements were precise, a testament to the hours she had spent observing and emulating her mentor''s techniques.


    Her opponent, Zephyrus, didn''t bother to take a stance. He merely looked at her with contempt, his posture relaxed and dismissive.


    "Begin," said the instructor.


    Zephyrus moved instantly, a blur of motion as he dashed towards her with remarkable speed. It was a skill Artemis had seen him use in previous spars, a technique that left his opponents reeling from the sheer swiftness of his attack.


    Artemis, however, was not surprised. She had anticipated this move, her hunter''s perception allowing her to track his movements with precision. She knew she couldn''t outrun Zephyrus, so she didn''t even try. Instead, with a swift and unexpected motion, she threw her wooden sword directly at his face.


    The move was unexpected, reckless, and seemingly foolish. The crowd gasped, and even the instructor''s eyes widened in shock. But Artemis had calculated her action perfectly. The wooden sword spun through the air, a blur of brown against the morning light, and struck Zephyrus squarely on the nose.


    The impact was solid, and Zephyrus stumbled, his dash faltering as he instinctively raised his hands to his face. The element of surprise had worked in Artemis''s favor. She quickly closed the distance between them, her smaller frame moving with agility and purpose. She tackled him to the ground, using her momentum to knock him off balance.


    The gymnasium fell silent, the boys watching in stunned disbelief as the small girl bested their champion. Artemis stood up, panting, her chest heaving from the exertion, but her eyes were bright with determination. She had won, and she had done it on her own terms.


    A small chuckle escaped from the old man. "Artemis, you won, but do not drop your weapon even in a spar."


    "But I threw it," she replied, still catching her breath.


    "Do not throw your weapons. Do you understand?"


    "..."


    "..."


    She sighed, feeling defeated. "Yes, sir."


    "Louder!"


    "YES SIR!"


    "Good."


    Then a woman in plate armor ran into the gymnasium. She handed the old man a scroll, and as he read it, his face darkened into a scowl. "Practice more laps," he ordered the children. "Dismissed."


    With hurried steps, the old man exited the gymnasium, leaving the children to their laps.


    "Well, that was anticlimactic," said a young girl. "Let''s go back to the garden, Haya."


    "Yes," Hyakinthos answered, turning to leave.


    As they began to walk away, a loud shout froze Hyakinthos in his tracks. "YOU CHEATED!"


    He turned to see the source of the commotion. Artemis stood, clearly exhausted, but still defiant. "No, I didn''t," she answered.


    "YOU THREW A WEAPON AT ME!" Zephyrus shouted, his face red with anger.


    "It wasn''t against the rules," Artemis replied calmly.


    Apollo looked out the window, hearing the commotion. Hypatia did the same, curiosity piqued.


    "APOLOGIZE!" Zephyrus demanded.


    "For what?"


    "FOR CHEATING!"


    Artemis sighed deeply. "All right... I''m sorry," she said reluctantly, before kneeling down to resume her prayers.


    But peace was short-lived. Zephyrus, seething with rage, lunged at her. Artemis barely had time to react before he struck her face, knocking her to the ground. As he grabbed her silver hair and began to pull, she tried to fight back, but there were too many boys piling on her.


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    Just as Zephyrus was punching down Artemis he saw a girl running towards him. It was a beautiful girl. Violet eyes, black braided hair and brown skin. The girl is beautiful so much so he felt as if time slowed down. The girl approach him one of her arm was behind her. Was it a dance? he thought to himself and then that was the last thing he saw or remembered.


    For that was not a girl but an angry Hyakinthos, that was not a dance but a battle stance. Young Zephyrus probably didn''t remember the punch that sent him flying and planting his face to the ground.


    It happened so fast that the boys suddenly stop.


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    A second later, another boy holding Artemis¡¯s hair found himself airborne, courtesy of an angry Apollo. The boy landed face-first into the ground, his grip on Artemis''s hair released.


    "How did you get the¡ª" Hypatia began to ask, but stopped herself. "Oh no."


    A full-blown brawl erupted. Three children against Artemis''s classmates. Despite being outnumbered, the three siblings held their own. Apollo¡¯s innate strength, enhanced by the sunlight streaming into the gymnasium, gave him an edge. Hyakinthos, with strength magnified tenfold, fought with a fury that was unmatched. Artemis, driven by a desire for revenge, fought with a relentless determination.


    The gymnasium echoed with the sounds of scuffling feet and grunts of effort. One by one, the classmates fell, until only Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos stood victorious amidst a scattering of defeated boys. Artemis¡¯s chest heaved with exhaustion, but her eyes blazed with triumph.


    The fight had been brutal and swift, a testament to the bond and resilience of the three siblings. As they stood together, breathing heavily.


    "You okay, sis?" Apollo asked, his voice filled with concern.


    "I''m fine," Artemis answered back, but the sight of her black eye and the myriad of bruises marring her face told a different story. Her eyes began to well up with tears as the pain finally set in.


    "Wait a minute," Hyakinthos said, a sudden realization dawning on him. "Wasn''t that... what was his name again?"


    "Zephyrus?" Apollo replied, a note of alarm creeping into his voice. "The champion?"


    "Yes, that''s the one. He is the champion, right? So that means¡ªOh no." Hyakinthos''s face paled as the implications sank in.


    "What?" Artemis asked, her voice tinged with worry. "What is it?"


    "We need to run, Arty," Apollo said urgently. "We are in big trouble."


    "Wha-what? What should we do then?!"


    "Big Brother Pacificus knows what to do," Hyakinthos answered confidently. "He is strong."


    "Let''s run. We can''t stay here anymore. We have to build a house in there if we want to live," Apollo said, a sense of urgency and determination in his voice.


    "We are building a house?" Artemis repeated, a smile breaking through the bruises on her face despite the pain.


    Minutes later, they arrived at Pacificus''s hut, their hearts pounding from the sprint.


    "Mother Rina," says Artemis, her voice filled with excitement and a hint of urgency, "can we make a house here?"

 Chapter 17: Preparation for the Journey

    "That''s what happened," says Apollo as Merina patches the bruises on Artemis''s face. She first cleans the bruises with warm water, then applies crushed herbs. It will take at least two weeks for Artemis''s black eye to heal, especially given the swelling.


    "That Zephyrus is a sore loser," Hyakinthos says, recalling the scuffle. "He lost a fight because he was careless."


    "And stupid," Apollo adds. "They are all stupid. During training, I noticed they were running full speed while Artemis was jogging. Their attacks were way too telegraphed; even I could dodge them, and I''m an apothecarist, a healer."


    "They were looking down on me," Artemis adds, her voice tinged with frustration and pain. "I don''t like the look in their eyes. It''s annoying."


    "Is that why you threw your sword, Sis?" Apollo asks. "I''ve had plenty of spars with you, and you''ve never done that. I hate to admit it, but Zephyrus, in a way, is kind of right. You did cheat."


    "WHAT?!" Artemis shouts at Apollo, her eyes blazing with fury and betrayal. "I DID NOT CHE¡ªAH!"


    "Sorry, Arty," says Merina, gently dabbing the herbs onto her face.


    "I''m fine, Mother Rina," Artemis replies, trying to maintain her composure despite the pain.


    Apollo sipped his tea, the warm liquid calming his nerves. Hyakinthos did the same, their quiet moment only broken by Artemis, who finally spoke up, her voice soft and filled with regret. "I''m sorry. I got us into big trouble, didn''t I?"


    Apollo and Hyakinthos looked at their sister, then exchanged a glance before chuckling softly.


    "It''s not your fault, sis," Apollo said reassuringly.


    "It''s Zephyrus''s fault. He was the first to punch you," Hyakinthos added, trying to console her.


    "Let''s not forget that they ganged up on you," Apollo continued, a hint of anger in his voice. "They are cowards, sis. They know they can''t beat you in a fair fight, so they chose to gang up on you."


    "I know that... but still... If I was a bit stronger, maybe I could have defended myself better," Artemis lamented, her eyes downcast.


    "You are at your weakest during the day, sis," Apollo reminded her.


    "That''s her flaw?" Hyakinthos asked, surprised. "Wait, why are you guys telling your flaws?"


    "We trust you," Apollo and Artemis replied in unison.


    "I am the opposite of Artemis," Apollo explained. "I am at my weakest during the night. Though I still have to practice the sword and bow, I mean, you are at your weakest during the day, yet you still won all the duels. Which means even I can still be defeated by a weaker foe even at my strongest."


    "Those guys are too predictable... and Hyakinthos is faster," Artemis noted.


    "Well, my skill is having my blessings multiplied by tenfold," Hyakinthos replied.


    Apollo and Artemis looked at Hyakinthos, impressed. "That is strong," said Artemis.


    "What is the catch?" asked Apollo.


    "I get hungry really easily... I have to eat as much as ten people," Hyakinthos admitted.


    "Oh," said Artemis, concern in her voice. "Are you hungry now, Haya?"


    "I was, actually, but I lost my appetite," Hyakinthos responded.


    "I''m sorry, Haya," Artemis said, her voice tinged with guilt.


    "You did nothing wrong, Arty," Hyakinthos reassured her.


    Merina, tending to Artemis''s bruises, asked, "What about Lady Caecilia and Lady Augustus? Do they know what happened?"


    "No, I don''t think so," Apollo answered. "She was busy at the temple when it happened."


    "Same here," Hyakinthos added. "Augus¡ªI mean, Mother Augustus was also at the temple when it happened."


    "Are they treating you well?" Merina inquired.


    "Yes," the three children answered in unison.


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    "It feels wrong, to be honest," Hyakinthos confessed. "She is treating me like I''m her son, as if she really loves me, but... but I just feel guilty because I only see her as a... uhmm... ahhh... I see her as... as a stranger."


    Apollo and Artemis sighed in unison. "Me too," said Artemis.


    "Same here," added Apollo.


    Merina chuckled at their answers. "That is why Mother Leto told you that you will only stay for a few weeks. So you could acclimate to your new parents... so you can learn to love them."


    "Rina," Pacificus said as he approached, his tone serious. "Get them inside the basement, my love. Something is approaching."


    "Oh no," Artemis whispered, her eyes wide with fear. "Did they come for us?"


    Pacificus smiled reassuringly. "We will see, Arty."


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    A creature with the front half of an eagle and the rear half of a horse thundered toward Pacificus. This formidable being, known as an Alce or wingless hippogriff, was a sight to behold with its sharp beak, piercing eyes, and powerful hooves. The Alce''s feathers glinted in the sunlight, and its muscular frame rippled as it moved with predatory grace.


    Torrent, the young Kirin, emitted a low growl, sensing the creatures long before they came into view. His fur bristled, and his iridescent scales shimmered like a myriad of eyes, casting a judgmental gaze upon the approaching intruders. As the hippogriffs drew nearer, Torrent''s agitation grew more palpable, his body coiling with tension.


    Pacificus saw the full extent of the approaching group. Mounted on the backs of the Alces were robed soldiers, their spears and shields glinting ominously. These warriors were not ordinary men; they were women, each donned in the distinctive blue and green robes of Juno. The robes, adorned with intricate patterns, fluttered in the breeze, revealing glimpses of the armor beneath. Some of the women wore gleaming plate armor, while others were clad in lamellar armor with chainmail underneath, creating a symphony of metallic clinks as they moved.


    One warrior stood out among the group. Unlike her comrades, she wore no armor beneath her robe. Instead, she was dressed in a glamorous purple blouse that contrasted strikingly with the utilitarian garb of the others. Her weapons, a spear and a round shield, were the most ornate and meticulously crafted, signaling her high rank or exceptional skill. The spear''s shaft was inlaid with silver filigree, and the shield bore intricate carvings that depicted scenes of ancient battles and fearsome beasts.


    Pacificus could feel the ground quaking beneath him as the hooves, claws, and sheer weight of the magnificent Alces pounded the earth, drawing ever closer. Each step sent tremors through the soil, signaling the approach of the formidable creatures and their riders. The rhythmic thudding of their advance was punctuated by the sounds of armor clinking and the whoosh of robes billowing in the wind.


    Then, cutting through the cacophony, he heard a voice. "Lady Augustus," one of the women shouted urgently, "please slow down!"


    The woman at the front, distinguished by her lack of armor, was the fastest among them. Her spear was poised, ready to strike down anything that dared cross her path. Though her face was hidden behind a veil, Pacificus could feel the intense killing intent emanating from her. It was a palpable force, a sharp contrast to the serene surroundings of his farm.


    Torrent, the young Kirin, sensed the danger as well. The majestic creature''s fur stood on end, and his scales shimmered with agitation. His eyes locked onto the approaching woman, and a menacing growl rumbled from deep within his chest. Torrent bared his fangs, ready to charge and defend his territory.


    Seeing the Kirin''s agitation, Pacificus acted swiftly. He stepped in front of Torrent, raising his sword to block the creature''s path. The blade gleamed in the sunlight, a barrier between the Kirin and the oncoming threat. Torrent paused, recognizing the command and reluctantly obeying, though his eyes remained fixed on the veiled woman, every muscle in his body tense and ready for action.


    Pacificus shifted into a high stance, his massive sword raised above his head, gleaming in the sunlight. Every muscle in his body was tense, poised for the imminent clash. As the woman in the purple blouse charged, her spear aimed directly at him, he stood his ground, calm and focused.


    The moment her spear met his sword, Pacificus executed a perfect parry, using her own force against her. In an instant, she was dismounted, the momentum of her charge redirected with expert precision. Torrent, the Kirin, seized the opportunity. With a powerful swing of his massive tail, he struck the Alce the woman had been riding. The creature was sent sprawling through the air, landing heavily on its back, dazed but unharmed.


    The woman quickly regained her footing, her movements fluid and controlled despite the sudden dismount. She aimed her spear at Pacificus, her face hidden behind a veil that did nothing to obscure the fierce determination in her posture. Her attacks came swiftly, each thrust precise and calculated.


    Pacificus intercepted each strike with his sword, the heavy blows reverberating through the blade and into his arms. Her attacks were not only precise but also powerful, each one carrying the weight of her formidable strength.


    <hr>


    Augusta rushed from the temple the moment she received the troubling news. Her son, despite adapting quickly, had already found himself in trouble. Alongside his siblings, he had confronted and defeated the champion, Zephyrus, and his friends in a heated altercation.


    Arriving at the gymnasium, Augusta found her gardener and a scholar being questioned by her friend Caecilia.


    "She defeated the champion," said the scholar, his voice steady. "And the champion, angered by his defeat, rallied his friends to retaliate against her."


    "It''s true," the gardener confirmed, nodding vigorously. "I saw the whole thing. The three of them fought off Zephyrus and his gang."


    "She cheated!" Zephyrus protested, his face marred by a black eye and numerous bruises, his clothes and hair caked with dirt. "It wasn''t a fair fight."


    "Your instructor declared Artemis the winner," the scholar interjected, her tone firm. "You should have accepted your defeat with grace, young man."


    "Don''t speak to my son that way, you damned woman!" shouted a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Zephyrus. Her voice was shrill with outrage. "She and her friends assaulted my boy and his companions. I demand proper punishment and discipline."


    "Bellona," Augusta called out, turning to her gardener.


    "Yes, my lady," Bellona replied quickly.


    "Have you seen my son?" Augusta''s voice was sharp, laden with urgency.


    "S-son?"


    "YES, MY SON!"


    "But, my lady, don''t you have a daughter?"


    "NO, I DO NOT! HE IS MY SON!"


    "Haya is a boy?!"


    "YES! NOW WHERE IS HE?!"


    "They ran away after he punched champion Zephyrus and his friends."


    "HE DID WHAT?!"


    "He punched him. It was really a surprise; he sent young Zephyrus flying."


    "Oh," Augusta allowed herself a brief, proud smile before her stern expression returned. "Do you know where they are?"


    "I think I heard them mention running towards a man called Pacificus."


    "The monster near the Ever Resting Forest? That man?"


    "Yes, my lady. I tried to chase them, but they''re just too fast. I''m level two. Those kids are unbelievably quick, my lady."


    "They are?" Augusta smiled, proud of her adopted son''s strength.


    "Well, they both carried young Artemis while they were running. But they are still fast... like really fast."


    "That''s all I need to know." Augusta then rushed towards the stables.


    "Lady Augusta?... Where are you going?"


    "To my son!"


    "TO THE MONSTER''S FARM!"


    "YES, I''M GOING THERE!"


    "Lady Augusta, please don''t go there. That monster has defeated countless knights and stopped entire armies from invading this town. Whatever you are planning, my lady, it is not wise."


    "I''m just going to talk to him."


    "Then what''s with the spear, my lady?"


    "I''m just going to talk to him."


    "A peaceful conversation doesn''t require a weapon, my lady."


    "Peaceful?"


    "Oh no."


    She rode out of town, determined to confront the so-called monster near the forest. A group of warrior monks followed her, shouting their concerns. "Lady Augusta! Please reconsider! This is not a good idea!"


    Ignoring their pleas, she spurred her steed faster.


    As she approached the Ever Resting Forest, she saw Pacificus already prepared. His massive sword was raised above his head in a magnificent stance. To her, however, the stance lacked the killing intent she expected, which she found deeply insulting as a warrior.


    Without hesitation, she thrust her spear at Pacificus. In a blur of motion, he parried the spear, redirecting its force back towards her. The impact was so swift and powerful that she was dismounted, landing hard on the ground. Angered and determined, she launched a barrage of attacks, each one precise and powerful.


    Yet, Pacificus parried every strike with effortless grace, his huge sword intercepting her blows with pinpoint accuracy. Each deflected attack sent shocks up her arms, threatening to break them with the force of his counters. She tried bashing him with her shield, but he merely pushed her back. She attempted to stab him again, but her spear was redirected, her momentum killed each time.


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    Her frustration grew with every failed attempt, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.


    The warrior monks of Juno attacked in unison, their spears and swords striking at Pacificus from all sides. Each attack was skillfully parried and redirected, sending the women warriors sprawling from their steeds.


    Torrent, the young kirin, chased the magnificent beasts, who bolted in panic, abandoning their riders. The air was filled with the sounds of battle: the clash of steel, the shouts of the warriors, and the thunderous hooves of the fleeing alce.


    The brave women, undeterred, charged at Pacificus again and again. He moved with an almost otherworldly grace, dodging and deflecting each attack with ease. Augusta watched him closely, her eyes narrowing as she began to appreciate his brilliant swordsmanship. Despite her growing respect, she could not allow him to best her fellow warrior monks without a fight. She joined the fray, spear thrusting and shield bashing with relentless determination.


    Yet, no matter what they tried, their attacks were all met with the same fate. Pacificus parried and redirected each strike, his movements fluid and precise. One warrior was sent flying as his sword struck her breastplate with tremendous force. She crashed into a tree, her body crumpling upon impact, unable to even scream as she lay motionless on the ground.


    Another warrior soon followed, flung backward by a powerful blow. She landed hard on her back, the sound of her pained gasps filling the air as she struggled to breathe. Augusta and the other warriors could hear her labored breaths.


    Augusta felt a tense respect growing within her. She tightened her grip on her spear, her knuckles white with the strain. The plate armor of her comrades had saved them from more grievous injuries, but it was clear that they were outmatched by Pacificus''s skill. His mastery of the sword was undeniable, each parry and strike delivered with the precision of a true master.


    The battle raged on with intense fervor. One woman clad in lamellar armor stumbled as Pacificus parried a forceful strike. The redirected blow slammed into her exposed jaw, the pummel of his sword catching her off guard. She crashed to the ground, dazed and disoriented, her helmet clattering away.


    Another warrior, struck by the flat of Pacificus''s massive sword, fell with a thud. The sword¡¯s edge glanced off her helmet, but the impact was so powerful it sent her sprawling, her body hitting the ground with a resounding crash. Despite the protection of her helmet, the force of the blow left her incapacitated.


    Yet another woman, also in lamellar armor, was sent reeling by a devastating counterattack. She clutched her stomach as she hit the dirt, gasping in pain. The punch from Pacificus had struck her squarely, penetrating even the layers of armor and padding she wore. The force of the blow used her own forward momentum against her, leaving her doubled over and gasping for breath. The counterattack was part of Pacificus''s parry skill, turning her aggressive move into a decisive, punishing strike.


    One by one, the warriors were thrown to the ground or sent flying through the air. The scene was chaotic¡ªplates of armor clattering and groans of pain filling the air. A particularly heavy-set warrior in plate armor landed on a rooftop, her body sprawled awkwardly. Though she was out of sight, her muffled groans of agony assured Augustus that she was still alive.


    In mere moments, all of the attacking women were defeated. The battlefield was strewn with the fallen, leaving only Augusta and Pacificus still standing. Augusta stood panting heavily, her sweat-drenched clothes clinging to her with each breath. Fatigue had taken its toll; her arms and legs trembled not from fear but from sheer exhaustion. In stark contrast, Pacificus remained composed, his enormous sword held casually in one hand, showing no signs of the exertion that had marked Augusta''s struggle.


    With renewed determination, Augusta discarded her heavy shield and gripped her spear with both hands, preparing for a final, desperate attack. She leapt towards Pacificus with a fierce stab. But just as their blades were about to clash, a commanding voice cut through the tumult.


    "STOP!" the voice rang out with authority.


    Both combatants halted, turning to face the source of the interruption. A group of figures emerged from the background. Among them were several children and women, some dressed in noble attire, and the familiar faces of the orphanage kids. Standing at the forefront was Leto, her presence serene and commanding.


    "Pacificus, young man," Leto¡¯s elderly voice was gentle yet firm. "Would you please lower your sword?"


    "Mother Leto?" Pacificus responded, a note of surprise in his voice. "What are you doing here?"


    "I¡¯m here to speak with you and that woman," Leto said, gesturing towards Augusta. Her gaze remained steady, even though Pacificus¡¯s blade was still poised to strike Augusta. The flat of the sword was aimed at Augusta¡¯s head, its position enough to cause significant harm but not fatal.


    Nearby, Caecilia stood with a weary expression, her fingers massaging her temples. Her annoyed gaze was fixed not on Pacificus but on Augusta, clearly dismayed by the confrontation.


    "SISTER AUGUSTA!" Caecilia''s voice thundered, causing Augusta to flinch as she heard her name.


    "Sister Caecilia?" Augusta replied, her voice trembling.


    "What makes you think that charging towards someone''s home is a wise idea?" Caecilia demanded, her frustration palpable.


    "I-I-I-I was confronting my child''s kidnapper," Augusta stammered.


    "THEY WEREN''T KIDNAPPED, YOU MEATHEAD! THEY RAN AWAY TOWARDS THEIR TEACHER!" Caecilia shouted, her voice filled with exasperation. Augusta shivered under the weight of her words. She then removed her veil and approached Pacificus, her demeanor apologetic. "I''m sorry for what my sister has caused, Mr. Pacificus."


    Pacificus simply nodded, his expression unreadable.


    "I am Apollo and Artemis''s new mother," Caecilia explained, pointing at Augusta. "That idiot over there is Hyakinthos''s new mother. We only came to see our children."


    "Are you aware that Artemis was injured?" Pacificus asked, his tone measured.


    Caecilia sighed, massaging her temples in a gesture of weariness. "I wish I knew sooner. I didn''t realize that they would have a fight on the training grounds on the first day. It was my own oversight, Mr. Pacificus. I should have let Artemis train in a more private gymnasium."


    Pacificus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "They are still kids," he replied. "In my opinion, Arty needs to make friends with kids her age. Putting her in private training alone would isolate her from her peers."


    "But that might cause more trouble," Caecilia countered. "I agree that kids her age should make friends, but based on the response of her classmates, it is safe to say that bridge was already burned."


    Pacificus sighed heavilY.


    "Please, Sir Pacificus," Caecilia pleaded, her voice softening. "Let me see my children."


    Pacificus looked at the mother before him, her earnestness and concern evident in her eyes. He sighed deeply, then finally said, "All right."


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    Around them, armored women were being attended to by priestesses, with Pacificus lending a hand by carrying the injured to his carriage. Despite their wounds, all the women were alive. Those in plate armor bore the brunt of the injuries, many suffering from broken ribs and severe bruises. The women in lamellar armor fared better, having only been knocked out; they were already helping their sisters after a few minutes of rest, though they still dealt with lingering headaches.


    As they worked, a newfound respect for Pacificus grew among the women. The tales of Pacificus halting entire armies seemed more believable now, even though Pacificus himself claimed that the largest group he had ever fought alone was only twenty.


    "Its not my fault," Artemis said, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and defensiveness. "They were the ones who attacked first."


    "Hypatia told me the same thing, Artemis," Caecilia replied, her tone calm yet firm. "I know it is not your fault that Zephyrus lost his temper, but you still need to apologize to him."


    "Why should I apologize?" Artemis asked, her face scrunching in protest.


    "Don''t worry, dear. I''ll make him apologize too," Caecilia assured her.


    "It''s not fair; he was the one who attacked first," Artemis grumbled, her frustration evident.


    "But you must be the first one to end it, by apologizing," Caecilia explained, her voice gentle but resolute.


    "B-but... ughh... fine," Artemis conceded, her shoulders slumping in resignation.


    "Don''t worry, dear. Zephyrus needs to apologize too," Caecilia repeated, her voice soothing.


    "... it is still not fair," Artemis muttered, her eyes cast downward, reflecting her lingering sense of injustice.


    Apollo sat on the porch next to Artemis, sipping his tea and observing the bustling scene around him. His eyes flitted over to Pacificus, who was busy carrying the armored warriors to his cart with a combination of strength and efficiency that never ceased to amaze. Nearby, Hyakinthos was being carried in the arms of his new mother, Augusta, who was still sweaty from the earlier confrontation. They seemed to be engaged in a quiet conversation, Hyakinthos¡¯s head nestled comfortably against her shoulder.


    Mother Leto stood with Merina and Caecilia, engaged in animated conversation. Apollo noticed that his teacher, Caecilia, was smiling¡ªa rare sight that made the moment feel even more special. His siblings, meanwhile, were doing their best to help Pacificus with the more cumbersome tasks, struggling to get one of the warriors down from the roof of one of Pacificus''s sheds. Torrent, the ever-hungry kirin, was preoccupied with a large pile of food, chewing contentedly as his scales shimmered in the sunlight.


    Other adults were also busy assisting, lifting the fallen warriors and ensuring everyone was accounted for. The scene was a blend of post-battle fatigue and communal effort, with everyone pitching in to help.


    Eventually, the group began their journey back to the noble''s district. Pacificus led the way, guiding Torrent with a gentle but firm hand. Merina walked alongside, deep in conversation with Caecilia and Leto. The children took turns feeding Torrent, who eagerly accepted the treats, his large eyes sparkling with gratitude.


    As they walked, Apollo, Artemis, and Hyakinthos recounted the events that had led to their current predicament. They spoke of the scuffle with Zephyrus, their voices animated and occasionally tinged with lingering frustration. Apollo described the way Zephyrus had lost his temper and how they had all banded together to defend themselves. Artemis added her perspective, detailing the unfairness of the attack and her mixed feelings about the situation. Hyakinthos chimed in with his own observations.


    Once they returned to the noble''s district, the three children faced a familiar sight: Zephyrus, flanked by his mother and friends, along with their mothers and an intimidating contingent of warrior monks of Juno. The monks were an imposing sight, some clad in gleaming plate armor, others in lamellar or mail. Their unique armor caught Apollo¡¯s eye, featuring breastplates molded to resemble the contours of a woman¡¯s torso, complete with sculpted breasts and muscles. It was a stark contrast to the simpler, more practical armor worn by other warrior women he had seen. Apollo couldn¡¯t fathom the purpose of such designs, but these women wore their armor with pride.


    Pacificus and Merina were still present, assisting with the injured women. Merina had been gently lowering a wounded warrior when the confrontation began, but the accusation from Zephyrus¡¯s mother made her freeze. Pacificus, in the midst of carrying another woman, also halted, his attention now focused on the unfolding scene. Even Torrent paused his chewing to look at the woman who had spoken.


    "You!" the woman accused, pointing directly at Artemis. "What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"


    Artemis stood her ground, her voice steady as she replied, "It''s not my fault. He started it."


    "Arty," Caecilia said softly, placing a reassuring hand on Artemis''s shoulder.


    "She is right, though," Apollo interjected, his voice clear and unwavering. "It was Zephyrus who threw the first punch."


    The group of women turned their gaze toward Apollo. Caecilia¡¯s smile was strained, trying to maintain a semblance of calm. In contrast, Augusta had a smirk playing on her youthful face, clearly amused by the situation.


    "I saw it," Apollo continued, his eyes meeting those of the assembled adults.


    "Me too," Hyakinthos added, "He punched her while she was praying."


    Caecilia, now holding onto Apollo¡¯s shoulder for support.


    Hypatia then remembered something. She lean a bit to Apollo and she whispered, "How did you get down there so fast anyway?"


    "I jumped out of the window," Apollo replied casually.


    Caecilia¡¯s eyes widened in shock, while Augusta¡¯s smirk grew, clearly impressed by Apollo¡¯s daring.


    "I didn''t do anything wrong," Artemis asserted firmly. "He punched me first, and I fought back."


    "YOU CHEATED!" Zephyrus retorted, his voice rising in anger.


    "No, I didn''t. You lost!" Artemis quickly countered.


    "YOU PEASANT!" Zephyrus''s face contorted with rage, and he made a move toward Artemis. But before he could reach her, a warrior monk stepped between them, blocking his path.


    "Lord Zephyrus, please," the monk''s voice echoed through her helmet, resonating with authority. "Please calm down."


    "MOVE AWAY! THIS PEASANT HAS DISHONORED ME, AND I WANT MY HONOR BACK!" Zephyrus shouted, his voice trembling with fury.


    "Lord Zephyrus, please, not here," the monk insisted, her tone firm yet placating.


    Artemis, sensing the escalating tension, took a step back, flanked by her loyal brothers, Apollo and Hyakinthos. The trio stood resolute, their solidarity an unspoken shield against the hostility directed at them.


    Caecilia, witnessing the confrontation, sighed heavily. She decided to follow her children, who were already being flanked by her best friend Augusta and her guards. The warriors on both sides exchanged weary glances, a silent acknowledgment of the strained situation.


    "Come, son," Eos said, grabbing Zephyrus''s shoulder with a firm yet gentle grip. "You will have your chance someday."


    Zephyrus, though seething with anger, allowed himself to be led away by his mother. His eyes, however, burned with a lingering fury, the promise of future retribution evident in his glare. Flanked by their own guards, Eos and Zephyrus retreated.


    <hr>


    Merina and Pacificus made their way to the orphanage, where Mother Leto greeted them with a warm, knowing smile.


    "I''m sorry you were dragged into this, young man," Leto said, her voice gentle but firm. "I must have interrupted your plans."


    "Not at all, Mother Leto," Pacificus replied, his tone respectful. "I can always leave tomorrow or the next day."


    "Let me make up for it, young man."


    "Mother Leto, there is no need."


    "There is a need, young man. I know you''re reluctant to leave because you don''t want to leave your farm unattended. And I know you don''t want to leave because you don''t want to leave Merina alone."


    Pacificus flinched at her words. The old lady smiled, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "I know a good man when I see one, Pacificus. Let me repay your kindness with ours, if you will permit it." She cleared her throat. "I can ask one of my daughters to take care of your farm while you''re away."


    "Mother Leto, that is dangerous."


    "Oh, don''t worry, young man." The old lady''s grin widened. "I''m a priestess... a head priestess. I can ask our warrior monks to guard your farm. They are very strong."


    "Mother Leto, I¡ª"


    "Oh, don''t worry about it. You could take Merina with you if you want."


    "WHAT?!" Merina suddenly interjected, her eyes wide with surprise.


    "I know you want to go too, Rina," Leto grinned. "You''re the type of tomboy who yearns for adventure."


    "I''ll only be dead weight," Merina protested, her voice wavering.


    "Rina," Pacificus said softly. "Do you... want to go with me?"


    Merina inhaled deeply, her expression conflicted. "I actually do... but... I''ll only be bothering you."


    "... it would be dangerous," Pacificus cautioned.


    "I know," Merina replied, her resolve steadying.


    "It would be miserable too."


    "I know."


    "We would be sleeping outside."


    "I know."


    "But it would be an unforgettable adventure," Pacificus said, a hint of excitement in his voice.


    "Yes... it would be."


    "The Ever Resting Forest is full of strange animals and plants. I get my harvest from that forest... who knows... you might be able to find new materials to make new cloth."


    "Tha¡ªthat is actually the main reason why I want to go," Merina admitted, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of excitement and determination.


    "Then let''s go," Pacificus said, a broad smile spreading across his face.


    Merina looked at Pacificus, her eyes wide with amazement. "Yes," she smiled back, her heart pounding with excitement. "Let''s go."


    <hr>


    The next day, the air was filled with a sense of anticipation as Pacificus and Merina spent the day preparing for their journey. The farm was a flurry of activity as monks and farmhands arrived. Pacificus, ever meticulous, took the time to explain to the farmhands every detail about the harvests, ensuring they knew how to manage the crops in his absence. The act itself took the entire day, each harvest a testament to Pacificus''s dedication and knowledge.


    As dusk settled, the two found a quiet moment to themselves. The night was cool, and the stars twinkled above like a canopy of diamonds.


    "I didn''t know Mother Leto was a head priestess," Pacificus mused, his voice a soft rumble in the night.


    Merina chuckled, her head resting on his arm, their bodies cocooned in a blanket she had made. The fabric was soft against their skin, woven with care and warmth. "She is... The temple was in shambles back then too... Oh, and those warrior monks."


    "They look too young, Merina. I think they are just kids."


    "Silly you, Pacy," she said, her voice filled with affection. "Those are Arty''s elder sisters. Every priest and priestess in that temple came from the orphanage."


    "I... I didn''t know that," he admitted, a hint of surprise in his tone.


    "We were starving back then, you know. The last siege hit us hard. I lost plenty of brothers and sisters during that siege... and the commoners'' temples were looted... and the nobles were too stingy to give us aid."


    Pacificus sighed, the weight of past hardships evident in his breath. "It''s always like that. Those nobles demanded a lot of my crops. I''m surprised that they are actually paying me."


    Merina chuckled softly, the sound a soothing balm to the night. The two drifted into sleep, wrapped in the warmth of their blanket and each other''s presence, knowing they still had much to do before their departure.


    The next day dawned with renewed purpose. Merina and Pacificus set about continuing their preparations. Merina began creating a sleeping bag with Pacificus, their hands working in tandem as they experimented with materials. They wanted to make it warm but also water-resistant, a task that required both ingenuity and patience. The project consumed their entire day, the pair engrossed in their work, the rhythm of their movements harmonizing with the natural world around them.


    The next day, the serene morning was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Artemis, her black eye completely healed. Behind her were Apollo and their mother, Caecilia.


    "What is it, Arty?" Merina asked, putting her tools away.


    "Zephy-lose challenged me to a duel," Artemis said nonchalantly.


    "Who?" Merina asked, blinking in confusion.


    "I''m sorry, Lady Merina," Caecilia said with a sigh of embarrassment. "It''s just that... Zephyrus challenged her to a duel in front of the gods."


    Merina''s expression shifted from confusion to horror, while Pacificus remained calm, though his eyes were filled with worry. Merina looked at Apollo, who was surprisingly calm, and at Artemis, who seemed equally untroubled.


    "What is the duel about?" she asked.


    "The idiot still can''t accept that he lost the last fight," Apollo said.


    "Apollo," Caecilia interjected.


    "Sorry, Mom," Apollo replied. "Anyway, that Zephy guy," he heard Caecilia sigh, "Zephyrus challenged her to a duel. I basically told him to do it at night because we''re too busy during the day." He grinned. "And he accepted."


    "Oh," Merina said, calming down. "Then we don''t have a problem." She smiled. "Just make sure to have your blessings from Pacificus."


    "That''s why I came here, Mother Rina," Artemis said. "I''m going to punch his face for once... I can finally have my revenge."


    "Oh, Artemis," Caecilia said, shaking her head.


    "Of course," Merina replied. "You too, Apollo."


    "What?" Apollo said, surprised. "W-why me?"


    "Because Pacificus and I will be leaving for a while. We might be gone for months."


    "Where are you going, Mother Rina?" Artemis asked.


    "To the Ever Resting Forest," she replied casually.


    The two children and their mother paled at her reply, not just because of the Ever Resting Forest but because of how nonchalantly she spoke about it.


    "Oh," Merina said, "When is your duel, Arty?"


    "Three days from now," Artemis answered.


    "Hmm," Merina closed her eyes to think.


    "I don''t mind, Rina," Pacificus interjected. "You need a monk to witness the duel, after all."


    Merina nodded thoughtfully, her expression softening. "Alright, Arty. We''ll make sure you''re prepared. And Apollo, you''ll be there to support your sister."


    Apollo nodded. Artemis looked determined, a glint of resolve in her eyes.


    Caecilia sighed but smiled at her children. "Just be careful, alright? And remember, it''s not just about winning. It''s about showing respect and strength."


    "We know, Mom," Artemis said, her tone serious.

 Chapter 18: Artemis vs Zephyrus

    Artemis knelt by the edge of the Tanin River, the morning sun casting a golden glow on the water.


    "Arty," Pacificus called gently, "are you sure you want to have your blessing here?"


    "Yes," Artemis replied, her voice steady.


    "Why?" he asked, curious.


    "... the goo," she answered, a hint of embarrassment in her tone. "I don''t want to experience it again."


    Pacificus chuckled softly. "That only happens the first time... or if you haven''t been blessed for a long time. Anyway, Arty, are you ready?"


    "Yes," she affirmed.


    "Alright," he said, placing a hand on her back. The symbols of Gaia and Thanatos appeared and glowed, runes forming and shimmering on her skin. "Oh," Pacificus noted, "you''ve been running a lot, haven''t you, Arty?"


    "Y-yes," she admitted.


    "Alright, Arty... what potential do you want to increase?"


    "Hmm," she pondered, staring at her runes. "I''ll take Endurance and Agility, I guess."


    "Alright," Pacificus said, his fingers tracing the runes. As he touched them, they began to fade. "We are done, Ar-"


    Artemis immediately jumped into the river, expecting the familiar, disgusting goo to seep from her body. But nothing happened.


    "What?" she exclaimed, examining herself. "How come?"


    "That''s because you were blessed a few days ago," Pacificus explained.


    "Oh... I see... I don''t get it," she said, her confusion evident.


    Pacificus chuckled again. "Come on, Arty, you still need to train."


    "I actually want to hunt," she declared.


    "..."


    "..."


    "Pardon?" Pacificus asked, taken aback.


    "I want to hunt," she repeated.


    "Artemis, it isn''t hunting season yet. It''s still spring, the animals are just waking up, and they''re all hungry for food. You should hunt during the fall."


    "Oh," she replied, disappointment creeping into her voice. "I really wanted to hunt though... I''m a hunter. I want to provide for myself."


    "You will, Arty. But not yet."


    "If you want to hunt, dear," Caecilia interjected, "I can send you on a hunting party."


    "I don''t want to hunt creatures of the forest," Artemis said firmly. "I want to hunt the beasts from the Ever Resting Forest."


    Caecilia turned pale at her words. Pacificus and Merina, however, remained calm.


    "You are still too young to hunt in the Ever Resting Forest, Arty," Pacificus said gently. "Wait until you are twelve; your potential will be higher by then."


    "Is my potential still too low for the Ever Resting Forest?"


    "I''m afraid so, Arty."


    "Oh," she replied, determination burning in her eyes. "I still need to train then."


    Pacificus nodded in agreement.


    "Your turn, Pollo,"


    <hr>


    Artemis trained diligently at the Temple of Juno. The gymnasium, smaller and more intimate than her school, was exclusively populated by women. The atmosphere buzzed with focused determination, the sounds of clashing swords and shields resonating throughout the space. Artemis spent her days sparring with the warrior monks, their fierce discipline pushing her to improve. Her greatest regret, however, was not being able to practice with her beloved bow. Instead, she spent most of her time wielding a sword and shield or a spear and shield.


    Her instructor was a woman with a youthful demeanor, Hyakinthos''s mother, Augusta. Augusta watched Artemis train, her keen eyes catching every mistake, every flaw in her form. They were engaged in a sword training session when Artemis assumed a familiar stance.


    Augusta raised an eyebrow, recognizing the high stance immediately. It was the same stance Pacificus used, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Augusta attacked, expecting Artemis to parry the blow.


    Artemis did, but Augusta''s power was overwhelming, breaking through her defense. "Did that farmer teach you how to hold a sword?" Augusta asked, her tone sharp.


    "Big Brother Pacy?" Artemis replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "Yes, Auntie, Big Brother taught me how to use the sword... but I prefer the bow."


    "That Pacificus... how strong is he?"


    "He is very strong," Artemis said earnestly. "He hunts beasts from the Ever Resting Forest, though he usually only does it a few times."


    "I see... was he the one who slayed a cockatrice?"


    "Yes, he did. Big Brother saved me from that cockatrice... it was also delicious."


    Augustus sighed, her expression softening slightly. "Arty," she began, "don''t try to mimic Pacificus."


    "What? Why?" Artemis asked, confusion clouding her features.


    "Pacificus... doesn''t have any killing intent. The reason why he is so strong is because... because he mastered one skill and one skill alone... and that skill is parry."


    "That is what Big Brother Pacy told me too... but I didn''t believe him."


    "He is telling the truth, Artemis. It is his warrior''s will. It''s his own martial path... you should walk your own path rather than follow in his footsteps."


    "Big Brother once told me about the warrior''s will. I still don''t know what it is."


    "It''s not easy to explain, Arty. You will know once you get older."


    For three straight days, Artemis trained relentlessly. Each day began with the morning sun filtering through the temple''s windows, casting long shadows that shifted as the hours passed. Her muscles ached, her hands grew calloused, and her resolve strengthened. Augustus was a stern but fair teacher, her corrections and advice guiding Artemis towards improvement. Despite the grueling training, Artemis felt a sense of accomplishment with each small victory, each lesson learned.


    The temple, with its high ceilings and worn floors, echoed with the sounds of their training. The air was filled with the scent of sweat and determination. As Artemis practiced, she found herself thinking more and more about Pacificus''s words and Augustus''s advice.


    <hr>


    In those three days, Merina had been a whirlwind of activity. She finished making a proper cloth for their tent, the fabric durable and weather-resistant. She also crafted a large backpack and a substantial water bag, designed to hold enough for their journey. Not one to overlook any detail, she even redesigned Torrent''s saddle for greater comfort and utility. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, her mind always a step ahead, planning and creating with a sense of urgency and purpose.


    Pacificus had been equally busy. He worked alongside the monks of Vesta to construct new barracks, his strong hands and tireless spirit a vital part of the effort. Despite the physical demands of the work, he constantly kept an eye on the children training on his farm. The barracks were completed in three days, thanks in large part to one of Merina¡¯s sisters, a skilled carpenter. The structure was larger than originally planned, accommodating the children who wanted to stay close to their mothers and big sisters.


    During these days, Pacificus also took on the role of chef, preparing meals for his lover, the children, and the adults. He cooked with a quiet grace, his movements in the kitchen precise and thoughtful. He also prepared rations for their upcoming journey, ensuring that they would have nourishing food on the road. The aroma of his cooking filled the air, adding a comforting warmth to the bustling activity.


    On the final night before their departure, Pacificus gave Merina a tender kiss. "Stay safe, my love," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. She returned his kiss, a promise and a plea wrapped in the simple gesture.


    Pacificus left their hut wearing the monk''s scapular that Merina had made for him. The fabric was soft yet sturdy, a tangible reminder of her care and craftsmanship. His destination was the Temple of the God of Creation, located in the heart of the noble''s district.


    As Pacificus entered the town, the evening air was cool and refreshing. The streets were bathed in the soft glow of lanterns, casting long, gentle shadows. An old lady, wearing the robes of Vesta, stood waiting. Her presence was serene and commanding, a beacon of calm amidst the quiet night.


    "Good evening, young man," said Leto, her voice warm and welcoming.


    "Good evening, Mother Leto. Are you also here to witness the duel?" Pacificus responded, bowing his head slightly in respect.


    "He he he. Of course, young man," she replied with a knowing smile. "Someone has to make sure she doesn''t kill that poor boy."


    The noble guards at the entrance eyed them as they passed, their gazes lingering on Pacificus. His outfit was a striking contrast to the traditional garb of the town¡ªa black and white scapular adorned with a tree insignia, symbolizing life and death. It marked him as someone unique, someone not easily forgotten.


    As they walked, Leto''s gaze softened with concern. "How is Merina, dear?" she inquired.


    "She is fine, Mother," Pacificus replied. "Though I am worried if she is getting enough sleep."


    "Why is that, dear?"


    "We''ve been busy lately, preparing for a very long journey. I don''t even know how many nights we would have to spend in the Ever Resting Forest."


    "Ah, I see. Well, dear, you seem to be very happy with your life, though."


    Pacificus''s face lit up with a smile. "She... she completes me. I never knew I needed someone like her in my life until she appeared."


    Leto''s eyes twinkled with amusement. "So, when is the marriage, dear?"


    "Oh... we were planning to get married before we started our journey. But the soul flowers are hard to find these days... I was hoping to get some of them in the Ever Resting Forest."


    Leto chuckled softly. "Oh dear, no need for the silly flowers, just make the oath to the gods."


    "That is actually what we are planning to do after our adventure."


    Leto sighed, her expression a mix of understanding and amusement. "It seems your plans were interrupted, dear."


    "I don''t mind, Mother Leto."


    They continued their walk, the night air cool and filled with the distant sounds of the town. The path to the Temple of Creation was illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns, casting flickering shadows that danced along the cobblestones. The temple itself loomed ahead, a grand structure with towering spires and intricate carvings that spoke of ancient artistry and devotion.


    As they approached the temple, the air grew quieter, more reverent. The grandeur of the place was awe-inspiring, its presence commanding respect and admiration. Pacificus and Leto walked in silence, each lost in their thoughts, yet connected by the shared purpose of the night''s events.


    Finally, they arrived at the steps of the Temple of Creation. The large doors stood open, inviting them into the sacred space.


    Inside the grand temple, Pacificus stood out amidst the flowing robes and soft murmurs of the priestesses. The temple''s iconic dome arched overhead, its vastness creating an awe-inspiring ambiance that emphasized the sacredness of the space. The light from the high, stained glass windows cast vibrant hues across the polished marble floors, creating a mosaic of colors that danced around the grand hall.


    Pacificus, dressed in the distinctive monk''s scapular crafted by his lover, Merina, was a striking figure in the sea of serene figures. The scapular, a blend of black and white, bore the intricate symbols of life and death¡ªa powerful representation of Gaia and Thanatos. The tree emblem on his chest and back stood as a proud testament to the balance and duality he embraced. His height, a formidable two meters, made him nearly impossible to overlook. His white hair and short beard added to his commanding presence, while his mismatched eyes¡ªone violet, the other blue¡ªgave him an otherworldly aura.


    As he moved through the temple, his unique appearance drew glances of curiosity and reverence from the priestesses, who otherwise were accustomed to the more subdued presence of their fellow worshippers. Their robes, flowing gracefully as they attended to their sacred duties, contrasted with Pacificus¡¯s striking attire.


    In a quiet corner of the temple, Artemis was engrossed in her prayers, her focus intense and unwavering. Her posture was one of deep concentration, and the soft glow of the temple¡¯s light highlighted the determination etched into her young face. Her mother, Caecilia, stood beside her, clad in the elegant robes of Juno, the goddess of the hunt. She was carefully performing a ritual, invoking Juno''s blessings for Artemis''s equipment. The incense that filled the air carried a soothing aroma, mingling with the herbal scent from the armor.


    After a period of solemn prayer, Artemis stood up, her movements graceful yet filled with purpose. Caecilia gently assisted her in donning the armor¡ªa studded leather suit that smelled faintly of herbs from the incense. The armor, while protective, was designed more for agility than for heavy combat. The steel helmet, with its polished surface reflecting the temple¡¯s light, was secured on her head. Her weapon was a wooden sword, deliberately blunt and unsharpened, designed to focus on training rather than actual combat. At her side was a shield, sturdy and well-crafted.


    Pacificus observed Artemis with a sense of pride and admiration. Despite her young age, the fire in her eyes was unmistakable¡ªa fierce determination and readiness that spoke volumes about her spirit and resolve.


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    The arena, a grand space within the temple, was set for the duel. It bore the marks of its dual purpose: a festival ground transformed into a battleground. The dome of the temple arched overhead, its grandeur accentuated by the opening at its center, which allowed the soft, silvery light of the three moons to cascade into the temple, casting an ethereal glow over the scene.


    At the heart of the temple lay a vast circular arena, marked by a distinct line that demarcated the dueling area. Surrounding this circle were wooden platforms, meticulously erected to form an octagon. These platforms were elevated, offering spectators¡ªchildren, priestesses, and their families¡ªa commanding view of the arena below. The crowd was a mix of eager faces and quiet anticipation, their varied expressions reflecting the gravity of the upcoming duel.


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    Standing sentry around the arena were the warrior monks, their presence imposing yet silent. Dressed in robes and wide-brimmed hats that obscured their faces, they were equipped with wooden staffs topped with glowing orbs. The orbs emitted a gentle light, illuminating the arena and adding a mystical ambiance to the setting. The monks'' attire and their solemn demeanor added a layer of reverence to the proceedings.


    At the very center of the arena stood an old man, a figure of authority and experience. He was clad in ornate plate armor, over which was draped a warrior¡¯s scapular of a deep, blood-red hue. The intricate design of his armor featured the Spear of Mars emblazoned on both his back and chest, symbolizing his role as the presiding judge of the duel. His stern expression and commanding stance conveyed the seriousness with which he regarded the event.


    Above the arena, perched on the tallest parapet, was a private box. In this elevated position sat a man of considerable wealth and status. His appearance was strikingly different from the austere surroundings. Dressed in a richly embroidered purple robe adorned with gold trims, he was a figure of opulence amidst the otherwise modest temple environment. His weary eyes and sagging posture spoke of long nights and a profound fatigue. Despite the grandeur of his attire and the luxurious comfort of his plush chair, he seemed detached from the excitement below, struggling to keep his eyes open as he fought against the urge to yawn.


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    On the lower parapets of the arena, Apollo and Hyakinthos occupied a pair of wooden chairs, with Augustus seated beside them. The setting provided a slightly elevated yet intimate vantage point from which they could observe the duel below.


    Hyakinthos cast a concerned glance at Apollo, who seemed visibly uneasy. Apollo''s usual composure was replaced by an evident discomfort; his posture was slightly hunched, and his fingers drummed nervously against the armrests of his chair.


    "Are you okay, Polo?" Hyakinthos''s voice was gentle, carrying a note of worry.


    Apollo, forcing a reassuring smile, replied, "I... I''m fine, Haya. It''s just... moments like these... make me appreciate Arty''s stubbornness even more. To think that she would feel this weak during the day yet still keeps pushing..." His voice trailed off into a sigh. "I can''t help but respect her even more."


    Hyakinthos listened attentively, his expression softening with empathy. He reached out and took Apollo''s hand, his touch warm and comforting.


    Apollo looked up, meeting Hyakinthos''s gaze. There was a moment of silent connection between them, where Apollo''s eyes held a mixture of gratitude and something deeper. Hyakinthos, noticing Apollo''s discomfort and the strain of the situation, responded softly, "Don''t worry. I''ll protect you in nights like these."


    As Hyakinthos spoke, a faint blush crept onto both boys'' faces. Apollo''s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, mirroring the sudden warmth in Hyakinthos''s own features. The shared touch and the promise of protection created an intense yet tender moment. Their hearts seemed to beat in unison, the rhythm of their emotions synchronizing in a way that made time feel suspended.


    The spell was abruptly broken by a surge of commotion from the arena below. Shouts and cheers erupted, their collective voices rising in a cacophony that shattered the quiet intimacy between the two boys. The noise brought them back to the present.


    Zephyrus made his entrance into the arena with a confidence that drew the eyes of everyone present. Clad in studded leather armor and a polished helmet, he wielded a wooden sword and shield with practiced ease. The acolyte of Jupiter followed closely behind him, his white robes adorned with golden and silver trims. The emblem of Jupiter, an imposing eagle, was prominently displayed on his attire, a symbol of divine authority and grandeur.


    As Zephyrus approached the center of the arena, the crowd erupted in cheers, their enthusiasm echoing through the temple''s vaulted dome. Despite Apollo and Hyakinthos''s personal disdain for Zephyrus, they couldn''t deny the boy''s striking appearance and charismatic presence. Yet, the sight of him only served as a reminder of the punch he had delivered to their beloved sister, fueling their resentment.


    Zephyrus''s supporters, however, were undeterred by any personal grievances. Their voices rang out with fervor, chanting his name repeatedly until the sound reverberated off the temple''s ancient walls, creating a deafening chorus that filled the sacred space.


    The mood shifted as Artemis made her entrance. A profound silence fell over the crowd, replacing the previous din. Artemis stepped into the arena, exuding an almost ethereal grace. Her equipment, though identical to Zephyrus''s, seemed to enhance her natural elegance. The armor, the wooden sword, and the shield all appeared to complement her in a way that highlighted her poise and beauty rather than simply preparing her for combat.


    Caeilia arrived and took a seat beside Apollo, her presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the tense atmosphere. Augustus, observing the scene, turned to Caeilia with a note of intrigue.


    "Caeilia," Augusta inquired, her gaze fixed on Artemis. "Is that... Artemis?"


    "Yes," Caecilia replied, her smile tinged with pride.


    Augustus¡¯s eyes widened as she took in Artemis''s appearance. "What makeup is she wearing?" she asked, puzzled by the transformation.


    Caecilia shook her head slightly. "She isn''t wearing any makeup."


    Pacificus, following closely behind, made an impression of his own. His black and white scapular, emblazoned with the symbols of Gaia and Thanatos, stood out vividly against the backdrop of the temple. His presence added to the air of anticipation and reverence that surrounded the duel.


    At the center of the arena, the two opposing forces met under the illumination of the three moons. Their light seemed to intensify as it fell upon Artemis, casting her in a radiant glow that seemed to fuse with the celestial beams.


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    The old man overseeing the duel paused, momentarily caught off guard by Artemis''s striking presence. His gaze lingered on her, a look of surprise crossing his face. Meanwhile, the fat noble in the private box, despite his high status and wealth, couldn''t help but feel a pang of discontent. "Why am I staring at a child?" he muttered to himself, a mix of frustration and self-reproach evident in his tone.


    <hr>


    The old man cleared his throat, his voice resonating through the temple. "Tonight, we witness an honorable duel between two warriors."


    "But I''m a hunter," Artemis quietly pouted. Pacificus chuckled softly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.


    "This is a duel that will be witnessed by the gods," the old man continued. "Introduce yourselves and promise to the gods that you will fight fairly."


    Zephyrus stepped forward, his posture exuding confidence and nobility. "I am Boreas ''Zephyrus'' Astoria, second son of Eos Aurora Astoria and Astraeus Stella Astoria. Champion of Jupiter, blessed child of the skies, Hippogriff rider of the royal aerial cavalry, legacy child of the Astoria clan, wolf slayer, and groom-to-be of Flora ''Iris'' Sieglyn. I, carrier of noble blood in all my heart, promise to fight this duel fairly."


    The crowd erupted in applause, their cheers echoing through the temple. Zephyrus basked in the adulation, his expression one of smug satisfaction.


    The old man then turned to Artemis, who looked up at Pacificus with confusion. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked in a whisper.


    "Introduce yourself," Pacificus encouraged gently.


    Artemis took a deep breath and stepped forward, her eyes blazing with determination. "I am Artemis Marius Agrippa," she declared, her voice steady and strong. She glanced at Zephyrus, her gaze narrowing with fury. "I am here to beat this loser in front of me so he will remember that I never cheat. I won''t hold back. That''s a promise."


    Apollo and Caecilia both covered their faces with their hands, clearly embarrassed by her blunt declaration. Augustus and Hyakinthos, on the other hand, couldn''t help but be amused by her audacity.


    The crowd, however, was less forgiving. Frowns and disapproving murmurs spread among the spectators, and a few began to boo. The noble in the private box raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. Perhaps he had forgotten his sleepiness, intrigued by the child''s brazen defiance.


    The old man overseeing the duel maintained a stoic expression, his face betraying no emotion. Pacificus, standing beside Artemis, was momentarily stunned into silence by her boldness


    "Lets get this over with," Artemis declared, pointing her wooden sword directly at Zephyrus.


    Zephyrus glared back at her, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. It was clear he didn''t just want to defeat her¡ªhe wanted to crush her.


    "Before we begin," the old man announced, his voice commanding attention, "I need you two to listen to the rules. If you step out of the ring, you lose." He turned his gaze to Artemis. "No throwing weapons or dropping them this time. If you drop your weapon, you lose." Zephyrus clicked his tongue in annoyance. "If your weapon breaks, you lose. Also, no killing. If I deem this duel to be dangerous to your lives, I will personally intervene. Understood?"


    "Yes, Master," Artemis replied, her voice respectful.


    The old man raised an eyebrow. "I am not your master today, young Artemis. I am your mediator."


    "Understood," she corrected herself.


    "I understand," Zephyrus echoed.


    "Good. Now, go to your positions and prepare your stances."


    The two fighters moved to their designated spots. Zephyrus assumed a stance with his shield angled slightly towards Artemis, his sword arm poised to strike. His posture was rigid, his muscles taut with anticipation.


    Artemis, in contrast, adopted a more relaxed stance, her shield lowered. Zephyrus interpreted this as an insult, his anger simmering beneath the surface.


    In front of the two combatants, the old man held up a coin, its surface gleaming under the temple lights. "Once this coin lands on the floor, the two of you are free to engage."


    He tossed the coin into the air, and for a moment, it seemed as though time slowed down. The spectators held their breath, the coin spinning lazily as it ascended, catching the light of the three moons that filtered through the temple''s dome. Artemis and Zephyrus watched the coin with unwavering focus, their bodies coiled like springs ready to be released.


    The coin reached the apex of its arc and began its descent, twirling end over end. The entire arena seemed to hold its breath, the tension palpable. Finally, the coin struck the floor with a sharp ting, echoing through the silent temple.


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    In an instant, the calm was shattered as the duel commenced. As the coin landed with a sharp ting, Zephyrus erupted with a sudden, fierce burst of energy. A dark wind swirled around him, growing in intensity with each passing second. The women in robes and large hats quickly raised their staffs, conjuring a shimmering aegis shield made of mana that encapsulated the ring, preventing the dark winds from wreaking havoc within the temple.


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    The wind continued to strengthen, escalating into a formidable hurricane that enveloped the entire dome of the shield. Zephyrus''s eyes locked onto Artemis, filled with dark, destructive intent. He didn''t merely wish to defeat her; he wanted to break her entirely¡ªbody and spirit. To achieve that, he unleashed the full extent of his power.


    The tornado surrounding him crackled with electricity, bolts of lightning and peals of thunder reverberating through the enclosed space. Despite the ferocity of the storm, the mana shield erected by the women remained steadfast, protecting the temple from the violent outburst.


    Among the spectators, Augusta and the other warriors exchanged worried glances. Some were impressed, while others were horrified. The old man overseeing the duel, however, had a peculiar grin on his face as he watched Zephyrus. It wasn''t the sheer display of power that intrigued him¡ªthey were all aware of his capabilities as a blessed champion. No, it was the intense bloodlust emanating from the young boy that sent shivers down their spines. Such a level of murderous intent was unnatural for someone his age, and it was deeply unsettling.


    However, Pacificus viewed the scene differently. He had encountered young beasts that exuded similar bloodlust, and he was simply surprised to see a child harboring such intense hatred. To him, Zephyrus appeared not as a fearsome opponent but as a child throwing a tantrum, overwhelmed by his emotions. His eyes shifted to Artemis, who stood calm and composed amid the raging storm.


    "Arty," he called out, his voice steady and reassuring.


    "Yes, big brother?" Artemis responded, turning her back to look at Pacificus. This simple act surprised the warriors around them and further enraged her already seething opponent.


    "Arty... don''t kill him," Pacificus instructed, his tone firm yet gentle.


    Artemis smirked, a confident glint in her eye. "I''ll just beat him," she replied, turning her gaze back to Zephyrus with disdain. "I''ll make sure he won''t forget it."


    In a blink of an eye, Zephyrus dashed towards Artemis. His goal was simple: hurt her to the point of breaking her. His sword, surrounded by dark winds and crackling with electricity, was poised to strike. Yet, before his blade could make contact, Artemis''s shield met his face with brutal force. His vision blurred, his nose was bloodied, and he found himself flat on his back.


    Artemis had expertly used his own momentum against him. Zephyrus didn¡¯t realize what had happened until he felt the cold ground beneath him. The shield strike had spun him vertically, sending him crashing painfully onto his back.


    The crowd fell silent, their mouths agape in shock, unable to process what they had just witnessed.


    Artemis looked down at Zephyrus with disdain and disappointment in her eyes. Zephyrus, disoriented and in pain, began to wonder if he was hallucinating. Artemis seemed to glow, radiating like a star in the night sky.


    To make matters worse for Zephyrus, Artemis jumped on top of him and started pummeling him with her weapons. It was a one-sided beatdown. The audience flinched with each hit that Zephyrus took. He tried to fight back, but to his horror, Artemis was too powerful. His anger quickly turned to fear.


    Artemis raised her shield to strike again, but two firm hands stopped her¡ªone belonging to the old man and the other to Pacificus.


    At that moment, Artemis halted and got off her already knocked-out opponent. The arena was filled with a tense silence, the only sound being the labored breathing of the defeated Zephyrus.


    "I, Marcus Aemilius Barbola, hereby declare champion Artemis to be the undisputed winner of this duel."


    The crowd didn''t cheer. Instead, they watched in stunned silence as the healers rushed toward Zephyrus. The children looked at Artemis with fear, their previous admiration replaced by apprehension. Caecilia and her brothers went to greet her. Augusta had a grin on her face, while Hyakinthos looked at her with worry.


    "Are you okay, Arty?" Hyakinthos asked.


    Artemis smiled. "Never been better."


    A frown appeared on Caecilia''s face the moment she saw Artemis''s smile. She felt conflicted. On one hand, she was glad Artemis wasn''t hurt. On the other hand, she worried that this victory might inflate Artemis''s ego and turn her into a violent woman.


    <hr>


    They decided to walk away, the crowd already dispersing. As they took their first steps, Apollo stopped and looked back at Zephyrus.


    He saw Zephyrus''s mother crying and wailing at the sight of her injured child. She held her son''s head, trying to talk to him, looking as if she was losing her mind. Her wails and cries grew louder and more desperate as Zephyrus struggled to breathe. The healers worked frantically, their hands glowing with healing magic, but the mother''s panic only increased.


    A guard was there, attempting to comfort her and even trying to remove her from her child. The act made her snap, and she screamed and cried as she was forcefully separated from her son.


    "MY SON! MY SON!" she cried.


    "My lady, please calm down. You are interrupting the healers," one of the guards explained.


    "LET ME GO! LET ME GO! PLEASE LET ME GO! MY SON NEEDS ME! HE NEEDS ME!"


    Apollo sighed and approached the healers. It was chaotic, with Zephyrus''s mother fighting against the guard''s restraint, her voice hoarse from screaming.


    He approached Zephyrus, and the moment he saw him, he understood why Zephyrus''s mother was losing her mind.


    Zephyrus''s face was beyond recognition, a bloody mess that barely resembled a human visage. Apollo wondered how the boy was still alive. He could see Zephyrus fading in and out of consciousness, his breaths shallow and irregular. The healers'' hands glowed with healing magic, but it was too slow. The boy''s wounds were simply that severe. Healing magic depended on the patient''s body, and Zephyrus was losing too much blood. His panic only worsened the situation, making it harder for the magic to take effect.


    Apollo squeezed himself between the healers, his presence a steadying force amid the chaos. He gently cradled Zephyrus''s head in his hands. "This is going to hurt real bad," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. Then, his eyes began to glow, a brilliant light that rivaled the sun.


    The healers paused, watching as Apollo''s hands bathed Zephyrus in a warm, golden light. The boy''s body responded, the light seeping into his wounds, knitting flesh and bone back together at an accelerated rate. Apollo gritted his teeth, the strain of channeling such powerful magic evident on his face. His entire being seemed to vibrate with the effort, his body a conduit for an overwhelming force.


    Zephyrus''s body began to glow, a soft, warm light that spread from Apollo''s hands. His wounds started to close, the blood flow staunched, and his breathing grew steadier. The healers watched in awe as the impossible unfolded before their eyes. Yet, the process was not without its toll. Apollo''s grip tightened, his knuckles white from the exertion. Sweat poured down his face, and he trembled with the effort to maintain his composure.


    Finally, unable to contain the pain and strain any longer, Apollo let out a blood-curdling scream. The sound echoed through the temple, a raw expression of the immense energy coursing through him.


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    "POLO!" Artemis and Hyakinthos shouted in unison, their voices tinged with panic as they rushed toward their brother the moment they heard his scream.


    Apollo felt his soul ablaze, the pain so unbearable that he suspected being burned alive would be a lesser torment. The agony was compounded by the fact that he was at his weakest during the night, amplifying the excruciating sensation. His screams filled the temple, a harrowing sound that echoed off the stone walls.


    The healers, who had been focused on Zephyrus, immediately turned their attention to Apollo. They could see it clearly now¡ªthe flow of mana within his soul, and the source of his torment. His soul was burning, a blaze of magical energy that threatened to consume him. They placed their hands on him, trying their best to mitigate the pain, but they knew their efforts were limited. The best they could do was to ease his suffering slightly.


    Despite the unbearable pain, Apollo continued to channel his healing magic into Zephyrus. Each second stretched into an eternity, the agony intensifying with every heartbeat. His body trembled violently, sweat pouring down his face as he fought to maintain his consciousness. The temple seemed to hold its breath, the crowd watching in silent awe and horror.


    Zephyrus''s wounds gradually closed, the healing magic working its wonders under Apollo''s guidance. The boy''s breathing steadied, the color returning to his face as his injuries mended. For Apollo, however, those few seconds felt like hours, each one an endless stretch of torment. The healers could see the strain on his face, the sheer willpower it took to endure such suffering.


    Finally, as Zephyrus''s last wound sealed shut, Apollo''s body gave out. With one final, heart-wrenching scream, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.


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    Apollo woke to the sight of a familiar ceiling, the dim light casting soft shadows across the room. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the surroundings, and then heard a gentle voice.


    "Hey, Polo," Artemis said softly, sitting beside his bed.


    "Hey, sis," he replied, his voice weak. "What happened?"


    "You fainted," she answered, her eyes filled with concern.


    "How long was I out?"


    "A few hours."


    "Oh..." He paused, trying to piece together the events. "What happened to the idiot that you beat, sis?"


    "He¡¯s fine... How about you?"


    "I¡¯m fine," Apollo said, attempting to sound convincing.


    "Are you sure?" she pressed.


    "Yes," he insisted.


    "You¡¯re not lying?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.


    "Why would I lie, sis?"


    "I didn¡¯t even know someone could scream like that... until I heard yours," Artemis admitted, her voice tinged with worry.


    "Oh... oh Gods, that was embarrassing," Apollo muttered, a flush creeping up his cheeks.


    "Is your flaw really that bad?"


    "Yeah... it felt as if I was being burned alive and that pain was multiplied tenfold," he explained, his face reflecting the memory of the agony.


    Artemis scowled at his words. "Hyakinthos and Mother Caecilia were really worried, you know."


    "Oh... oh Gods... tell them I¡¯m sorry," Apollo said, his voice filled with regret.


    "Why did you do that anyway?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.


    Apollo sighed, looking away for a moment. "Did you see the look on that idiot¡¯s mom?"


    Artemis remained silent, her eyes widening as she recalled the scene.


    "She was going crazy, Arty. She was losing her mind from grief... I know Zephyrus is a horrible person, but even he has someone who would be devastated if he disappears."


    Artemis sighed, her expression softening. "You¡¯re right," she conceded. "Maybe I should start practicing during the night."


    "Why¡¯s that, sis?" Apollo asked, intrigued.


    She looked at her hands, watching as they glowed faintly with her power. "I didn¡¯t realize how strong I was until I fought Zephy-lose... I need to control my gifts, Polo."


    Apollo smiled, a weary but genuine smile. "Don¡¯t we all, sis?" he said softly.

 Chapter 19: Roasted Quick-Claw and Barbequed Innards

    "Mother Leto," a woman said, her voice filled with concern. She had short brown hair and piercing brown eyes, her attire a simple brown tunic with cloth folded into an exomis style. A belt around her waist held her hammers and other tools, hinting at her trade. She was rather short for her age, but her presence was commanding.


    "Why did you let Merina go with her husband to the Ever Resting Forest?" she asked, her worry evident.


    "Why not?" Leto answered calmly. "She is capable, and she comes from a lineage of hunters and nomads."


    "Mother Leto, she is a tailor," the woman, Lydia, insisted, her frustration growing.


    "Oh, Lydia dear, your sister will be fine. She is stronger than you think."


    "I know she is good with a bow, Mother Leto, but... it''s the Ever Resting Forest. It is too dangerous."


    "Don''t worry, dear. Pacificus is with her."


    "Then why not just let Pacificus go on his own?" Lydia asked, desperation tinging her voice.


    Leto then looked at Lydia, her gaze serious and penetrating. "I have a suspicion about Pacificus''s lineage."


    "His lineage?" Lydia echoed, her confusion growing.


    "Yes, dear. He is a good man, don''t get me wrong... but by how many times those two are doing it every night... I wouldn''t be surprised if Merina suddenly got pregnant."


    "Wha-What the?! Mother Leto, you are a priestess. The head priestess. How do you know these things? These are supposed to be private."


    "Oh, please, dear Lydia. Everyone knows what young couples do every night," Leto replied with a playful glint in her eye.


    "Mother," Lydia protested, her face flushing with embarrassment.


    The old lady''s playful gaze then turned serious once more. "If my suspicions are correct... then... Merina won''t have a child. If she did get pregnant... then she will only have stillborns."


    "What? What are you implying? Mo-wait a minute... it can''t be... that can''t be right," Lydia stammered, her face paling.


    "I hope I am wrong too, daughter. I hope I am wrong too," Leto said, her voice heavy with sorrow and uncertainty.


    <hr>


    Torrent, the young kirin, moved with a graceful but steady pace toward the immense forest. A myriad of bags and clothes were strapped securely to his back, and a rather tall woman rode atop him. The kirin didn''t seem to mind the load or the rider. Beside him walked a man who towered at two meters, a massive sword resting on his hip, glinting occasionally in the dappled sunlight.


    "I know the trees from the Ever Resting Forest are huge," said Merina, her eyes wide with awe as she gazed upward, "but seeing them up close is something else. These trees are enormous."


    The towering trees, with trunks as wide as large houses, stretched high into the sky, their dense canopy casting a perpetual twilight over the forest floor. The sunlight, although bright and warm, barely penetrated the thick foliage, creating an otherworldly atmosphere of dim light and deep shadows. The air was cool and filled with the earthy scent of moss and ancient wood.


    Navigating the forest proved challenging due to the massive roots that sprawled across the ground like the sinewy veins of the earth. Some roots rose so high they formed natural walls that had to be climbed over, while others created intricate labyrinths that required careful maneuvering around.


    Yet, for Torrent and Pacificus, these obstacles were little more than minor inconveniences. Torrent, with his nimble hooves and innate grace, easily stepped over or around the roots, his movements almost dance-like. Pacificus, with his imposing frame and powerful strides, followed with ease, his sword swinging slightly with each step but never hindering his movement.


    While the two were working, Merina was engrossed in her own task. With a charcoal pencil in hand, she meticulously worked on her scrolls. Her focus was on capturing the essence of nature¡ªleaves, flowers, and occasionally insects. Each element was carefully observed and then skillfully drawn onto her scrolls. As she worked, Merina also wrote descriptions alongside her drawings, noting the distinctive features and characteristics of each subject.


    Her speed was remarkable; her hands moved in a blur of activity. She transitioned seamlessly from one drawing to the next, her charcoal pencil flowing across the parchment with fluid precision. The drawings quickly accumulated, each one a testament to her keen observation and artistic skill. Despite the rapid pace, the details in her work remained sharp and expressive, reflecting her deep connection to the natural world she was capturing.


    As they ventured deeper into the forest, Torrent suddenly halted, his ears flicking in alertness. Pacificus followed his gaze and soon saw what had caught the kirin''s attention.


    A massive tree bearing deep, ragged scratches across its bark. The claw marks were enormous, each gash as wide as Merina¡¯s hand, cutting deeply into the ancient wood. Beneath the tree, the ground was littered with broken branches and disturbed undergrowth, and an acrid, foul stench filled the air, making Merina wrinkle her nose in disgust.


    "Bear?" Merina asked, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern.


    "Yes," Pacificus confirmed, his eyes narrowing as he examined the marks. "Horned leaf bear."


    Merina''s eyes widened at the mention of the beast. The horned leaf bear was a creature of nightmares, known for its sheer size and ferocity. Its claws, as sharp and long as daggers, could rip through tree trunks and flesh with terrifying ease.


    "Should we take another route?" she suggested, her gaze flicking nervously around the shadowy forest.


    "That would be wise, my love," Pacificus replied, his tone calm but firm. He gently guided Torrent, urging the kirin to move away from the marked tree.


    Merina took a closer look at the colossal claw marks. The gouges were so deep that they exposed the pale heartwood beneath the bark, and the sheer size of the cuts made her suspect that the creature responsible was as large as a house. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.


    They carefully veered off the path, choosing a new route that led them away from the ominous signs of the horned leaf bear¡¯s presence. As they moved, the forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence broken only by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unknown creatures. The light filtering through the dense canopy above cast shifting patterns on the forest floor, adding to the eerie beauty of their surroundings.


    As they walked, they suddenly halted, captivated by a creature taller than any building Merina had ever seen. The colossal being stood in the distance, its sheer size almost dwarfing the ancient trees around it. Its legs were like towering pillars, and its long neck stretched so high that it seemed to reach the clouds. Along its back and neck grew a lush array of trees and bushes, creating a verdant, living landscape upon its massive form.


    The creature was far away, yet its grandeur was unmistakable. Merina could see every detail¡ªthe way the sunlight glinted off its scaled hide, the movement of small animals darting through the foliage on its back, and the gentle sway of the trees it carried.


    "Pacy," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "Pacy, look," she pointed at the magnificent creature. "It''s amazing."


    Pacificus smiled at her wonder. "Rina... that is a thunder lizard," he said softly, his tone reverent.


    "Is that where we are going?" she asked, unable to take her eyes off the incredible sight.


    "Close... but we are still too far away," Pacificus replied.


    "Pacy, it''s huge... and there are more of them," Merina exclaimed, noticing several other thunder lizards moving slowly in the distance, their immense bodies casting long shadows across the forest floor.


    "Yes, Rina," Pacificus said, his smile widening. "Those creatures move in groups. They are so large that an entire ecosystem grows on their backs."


    Merina watched in awe as the thunder lizards moved gracefully despite their size, their every step a testament to the power and mystery of nature. The trees on their backs swayed gently with their movements, and bird like creatures flitted about, making nests in the high branches. She could even see small waterfalls cascading from the edges of the lush greenery, creating a serene and surreal landscape.


    The sight filled her with a sense of wonder and excitement. It was as if they had stepped into a world where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred, where the extraordinary was an everyday occurrence.


    <hr>


    The couple moved forward, enveloped by the lush plant life. The grass alone was taller than Pacificus, its emerald blades whispering secrets as they swayed in the gentle breeze.


    "Pacy," Merina murmured from her perch atop Torrent. "I think we are being followed." Her keen eyes tracked the pattern of falling grass, the disturbance in the sea of green moving closer and closer.


    Pacificus already had his sword drawn, its blade gleaming with readiness. Merina, holding her bow with practiced ease, scanned the area.


    The pair could hear the rustle of the grass. Merina''s eyes followed the trail of bent and broken stalks. She did not hesitate, nocking an arrow and letting it fly. She didn¡¯t see what her arrow hit, but the sudden growl and hiss told her she had struck something.


    Suddenly, three creatures lunged towards them. Merina¡¯s eyes widened as she took in their appearance. They were towering, with sinewy bodies covered in sleek, iridescent feathers that shimmered in the dim forest light. Their long, feathery tails whipped through the air, each movement precise and menacing. Their elongated arms, ending in vicious, curved claws, glinted dangerously.


    Her instincts urged her to jump away, and she did so with practiced agility. She leaped over Torrent''s back, narrowly dodging the swipe of a quick-claw. She landed gracefully on the kirin''s back, a smile forming on her face, a blend of fear and nostalgia.


    "Pacy," she called out, her voice steady despite the chaos, "these quick-claws are huge."


    Pacificus parried an attack from another quick-claw, his sword flashing in the dim light. "Wait, that''s what they are called?"


    "Well yes," Merina replied, deftly ducking another swipe from a quick-claw. "What did you think they were called?"


    "I thought they were turkeys."


    She tilted her head, momentarily puzzled, even as she nocked another arrow. "What''s a turkey?" she blurted out, genuinely curious.


    "Mother told me it was a delicious bird," Pacificus explained, sidestepping a quick-claw¡¯s attack. "These creatures are delicious too, but very territorial."


    Merina''s eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and hunger. "Quick-claws are a delicacy in my motherland," she said, starting to salivate. She dodged another swipe. "Maybe we should cook one. These things are huge, Pacy!"


    The quick-claws moved with startling speed and coordination, their feathery forms a blur of motion. Their eyes, gleaming with primal intelligence, tracked every movement of their prey.


    Torrent, the Kirin, was a formidable presence on the battlefield. His sleek, scaled body moved with a predator''s grace, each movement a testament to his predatory prowess. His claws swiped through the air with practiced ease, striking quick-claws with a brutal efficiency that sent them reeling. His tail, a powerful weapon in its own right, swept through the tall grasses, sending the creatures flying and vanishing from sight.


    At times, Torrent would leap into the air, his majestic form cutting a striking silhouette against the sky. He landed with a thunderous impact, trying to crush the quick-claws beneath him. His powerful legs and weight bore down on them with relentless force, causing the grass to part and the ground to tremble.


    Pacificus, the seasoned warrior, remained a paragon of steadfastness amidst the chaos. His movements were a harmonious blend of precision and strength as he parried each attack with his sword. His blade sliced through the air with a controlled elegance, deflecting the quick-claws'' strikes and sending them sprawling into the grass, where they disappeared into the dense foliage.


    Merina, ever the sharpshooter, had her bow drawn with a focus that was almost palpable. Her eyes, fierce with a predatory gleam, tracked a quick-claw that made a reckless leap towards her. As the creature hesitated, caught in the intensity of her gaze, Merina released the arrow with a fluid motion. The arrow flew true, striking the quick-claw squarely in the eye.


    The quick-claw, adorned with vivid blue and red feathers, flailed in a panic, its bright colors flashing wildly. The creature''s screech of pain pierced the air as it stumbled, blinded and disoriented. Torrent seized the opportunity with predatory efficiency. He moved in swiftly, his claws closing around the quick-claw¡¯s neck with a decisive grip. With a sharp twist, he ended the creature''s life in an instant.


    The sight of their fallen comrade was a cruel blow to the quick-claws. Overcome by fear and despair, the remaining creatures scrambled in a frenzied retreat. They fled into the tall grasses, their once-coordinated movements now a chaotic scramble as they vanished into the safety of the tall grass.


    Merina¡¯s voice cut through the fading echoes of the battle. ¡°Pacy,¡± she called out, a warm tone in her voice as she looked over her shoulder. ¡°Torrent brought us lunch.¡±


    Pacificus, her partner, made his way towards her with a light-hearted grin. His eyes softened as he approached the majestic Kirin, who stood proudly with a serene, almost regal air. The Kirin¡¯s iridescent scales shimmered under the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. Pacificus reached out to gently massage Torrent¡¯s head, his touch both affectionate and respectful.


    ¡°I never knew you were so adept with a bow... and riding a steed,¡± Pacificus chuckled, his voice rich with admiration. His fingers traced the sleek contours of Torrent¡¯s head, feeling the subtle warmth of the Kirin¡¯s body.


    Merina¡¯s laughter was a soft, melodious sound that blended with the rustling leaves. ¡°My parents were riders and horsemen, remember?¡± she said, a hint of nostalgia coloring her words. Her hands, skilled and sure, guided her bow as she stood confidently on Torrent¡¯s back.


    The trio then moved from the tall grasses, Torrent carrying their kill with the ease of one accustomed to such burdens. They made their way to a hollow trunk nestled among the gigantic trees, its gaping entrance offering a refuge from the open terrain.


    Once inside the hollow, Pacificus took stock of their surroundings. The interior was cool and shadowed, the air tinged with the earthy scent of wood and moss. He turned to Merina with a nod. ¡°I¡¯ll go collect some wild vegetables,¡± he said, his voice carrying a note of purpose.


    ¡°Take care,¡± Merina replied, her gaze following him as he prepared to leave. Her fingers were already busy at work, deftly removing the feathers from the quick-claw. The process was meticulous; she worked with the precision of someone who had performed such tasks many times before. The feathers, once vibrant and colorful, began to fall away, revealing the more utilitarian aspects of their quarry.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


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    An hour later, Pacificus returned to the hollow trunk, his arms full of an enticing array of wild vegetables and mushrooms. As he entered, he was met with the mouthwatering sight of Merina working efficiently at their recent kill. The quick-claw, now stripped of feathers, claws, head, and tail, lay on a bed of moss, its dark meat exposed and ready for preparation.


    ¡°Rina, I¡¯m back,¡± Pacificus announced, his voice echoing with a note of pride.


    Merina looked up, her hands still busy with the quick-claw. ¡°Oh¡­ Pacy, what did you bring?¡±


    Pacificus presented his bounty with a flourish. The spread included a mix of exotic and familiar ingredients: beheaded wild mandrakes with their grotesque, yet oddly intriguing forms, vines and flowers from man-eating plants, a curious pumpkin-like fruit with an expressive face, and an unusual fruit shaped like a woman. The more common ingredients¡ªa bunch of wild onions, garlic, and potatoes¡ªoffered a comforting sense of normalcy amid the wild assortment.


    A smile bloomed on Merina¡¯s face, her eyes alight with excitement. ¡°Let¡¯s roast it,¡± she said, already shifting her attention to the preparation of their meal.


    The quick-claw, standing as tall as a person, had been meticulously prepared. Merina¡¯s swift, skilled hands had removed its feathers and extremities with ease. She was now assisting Pacificus, her energy and enthusiasm evident as they dove into their culinary tasks.


    Pacificus began by peeling the vines from the man-eating plants, their tough exterior giving way to reveal the tender, fragrant insides. He crushed the petals with a satisfying crunch, releasing their spicy aroma into the air. The scent was both pungent and alluring, hinting at the flavor it would bring to their meal.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Merina asked, holding up the peculiar pumpkin-like fruit, its face seemingly alive with a whimsical expression.


    ¡°That is a dryad fruit,¡± Pacificus explained, smiling at its curious visage. ¡°It¡¯s rare but adds a delightful flavor.¡±


    Merina¡¯s eyes sparkled with intrigue as she examined the fruit¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, I see. I¡¯ll get started on the potatoes, onions, and garlic.¡±


    Pacificus nodded, his attention shifting to the fairy fruit. He carefully sliced it, his hands moving with precision. The fruit¡¯s flesh, delicate and vibrant, yielded easily under his blade. He added it to a pan, layering in the slices of fairy fruit with the hollowed-out dryad fruit. The pan sizzled gently as he heated it, the thick, red soup taking shape. The rich, savory aroma filled the hollow trunk, mingling with the spicy notes from the crushed man-eating plant petals.


    Merina worked diligently, peeling and chopping the potatoes with skillful ease. She diced the onions and garlic, their pungent aroma adding a comforting depth to their meal. As she prepared the quick-claw, she added the mandrakes and vines inside the cavity of the meat, then poured over some of Pacificus¡¯s aromatic soup. The mixture of vibrant vegetables and rich soup created a tantalizing blend of flavors, promising a feast of robust, hearty goodness.


    With deft hands, Merina stitched the quick-claw¡¯s cavity shut, sealing in all the flavors and juices. Pacificus and Merina then prepared the skewers, carefully threading the quick-claw onto them. The meat was soon suspended over the crackling fire, the flames licking and dancing around it. The rich, savory scent of roasting meat combined with the spicy, aromatic soup, creating an irresistible aroma that filled the air.


    As the quick-claw roasted, its skin crisped to a golden-brown perfection. The firelight cast a warm glow over the meal, the sound of sizzling and crackling adding a comforting soundtrack to their culinary adventure. Each turn of the skewer revealed a mouthwatering glimpse of what was to come¡ªa feast that promised to be as delicious as it was satisfying. The rich, complex aromas of the roasting meat, spiced soup, and fresh vegetables mingled harmoniously, making the anticipation of their meal even more tantalizing.


    Once the meal was prepared, the trio settled into their cozy refuge within the hollow trunk. They each took up their wooden bowls, handcrafted and smooth, and began to eat with their hands, savoring the hearty feast before them.


    Pacificus and Merina exchanged satisfied glances, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of the fire. They scooped up the richly spiced soup, its thick, velvety texture clinging to their fingers. Each bite was a delightful blend of robust flavors¡ªtender pieces of mandrake and savory vegetables mingled with the aromatic soup, creating a symphony of taste that danced on their tongues. The soup, a creation of Pacificus¡¯s skilled hands, was used generously as a sauce, enhancing the flavor of the roasted quick-claw and adding an extra layer of depth to each bite.


    Torrent, the Kirin, had a larger wooden bowl specially set aside for him. The Kirin¡¯s wolf-like head, with its majestic antlers and flowing mane, was a striking presence as he began his meal. His red and green scales shimmered with the firelight, casting a mesmerizing dance of colors across his body. The flames reflected off his scales, highlighting the grandeur of his three pairs of antlers, which had grown even more magnificent over time.


    The Kirin devoured his meal with evident enthusiasm. His powerful jaws crunched through the food with ease, even the bones of the quick-claw met with his voracious appetite. Torrent¡¯s eating habits displayed a clear preference; he tackled the vegetables first, savoring their flavors with a slow, deliberate pace. The vegetables seemed to be his favorite, as he relished them before moving on to the meat. His enjoyment of the soup was especially pronounced; he seemed to drink it eagerly, his mane flowing gently with each satisfying gulp. The soup¡¯s rich, spiced flavor clearly appealed to him, making it his favored part of the meal.


    As for Pacificus and Merina, their smiles spoke volumes. Each bite they took was accompanied by expressions of contentment and happiness. The combination of roasted quick-claw, fragrant vegetables, and the savory soup brought them immense satisfaction. The soup, now used as a sauce, amplified the flavors of the meat and vegetables, creating a perfect harmony of tastes that they relished with every mouthful. The warmth of the meal and the companionship added to their sense of fulfillment.


    ¡°Rina,¡± Pacificus said, turning his gaze toward Merina, his tone both gentle and earnest. ¡°We should stay here for today.¡±


    Merina looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. ¡°Already? Pacy, the sun hasn¡¯t even set yet.¡±


    ¡°I know, Rina. But trust me on this one,¡± Pacificus replied, his expression serious yet reassuring. ¡°We need to stay here for today and continue again once the sun rises.¡±


    Merina¡¯s surprise softened into a warm smile. ¡°You¡¯ve been here longer than I have, love. I trust your judgment. Of course, I have no argument about staying here.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, my love,¡± Pacificus said, his voice filled with gratitude. ¡°We need to cover that entrance.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we could use the cloth I made for the tent,¡± Merina suggested, her eyes brightening with the idea.


    ¡°That is a brilliant idea, Rina,¡± Pacificus agreed, his admiration evident.


    They quickly set to work, using the cloth Merina had woven. It was surprisingly tough and durable, perfect for their needs. Pacificus utilized his strength, skillfully nailing the ropes into the hard bark of the trunk¡¯s entrance, securing the cloth to cover it. As the cloth was stretched and fastened, it blocked out the encroaching twilight, leaving only the flickering light from their fire to illuminate the space. The flames cast a warm, dancing glow across the hollow trunk, creating a cozy sanctuary against the encroaching darkness.


    Inside their makeshift shelter, the pair busied themselves with their tasks. Torrent, the Kirin, slept soundly in a corner, his majestic antlers and flowing mane relaxed in a serene repose. The gentle rise and fall of his breath added a peaceful rhythm to the atmosphere.


    Merina, meanwhile, was engrossed in her work. She had spread out her drawing materials and was meticulously capturing the beasts she had encountered earlier. Her sketches were detailed and vibrant, bringing to life the creatures she had seen. She worked with focused intent, carefully noting descriptions alongside her illustrations. The drawings of the plants and vegetables Pacificus had collected were equally detailed, each plant rendered with care.


    As Merina continued her documentation, her work began to transform into something more practical¡ªa cookbook. She detailed the preparation and cooking of the quick-claw, humorously referring to it as the ¡°Man-eating Quick-claw.¡± Her notes included not just the cooking methods but also personal observations and tips for handling such creatures, giving the reader a glimpse into her experiences. She noted with a touch of wonder that, while quick-claws are typically about a foot tall, those from the Ever Resting Forest were as large as a man.


    The light from the flames danced across her pages as she wrote, casting a warm, flickering glow on her face. Her movements were deliberate and content, her creativity flowing freely as she combined practical information with the artistry of her sketches.


    Pacificus worked with focused determination, skillfully skinning the quick-claw''s tail. His hands moved with practiced ease, peeling away the thick, tough hide to reveal the plump, muscular flesh beneath. The tail was surprisingly meaty and dense, a testament to the creature''s strength. Once he had the tail skinned, he chopped it into thick steaks, their rich, fatty texture promising a hearty meal.


    Next, Pacificus turned his attention to the innards. Cleaning them was a meticulous process, requiring patience and care to remove any remnants and ensure they were ready for cooking. The innards were extensive, their preparation taking a significant amount of time and effort.


    After cleaning, he filled the cavity of the innards with some of the leftover vegetables, adding a touch of their Pemmican for extra flavor and sustenance. He then skewered the stuffed innards, dipping them into the rich, red sauce left from earlier. The sauce, infused with the spices and flavors of their earlier meal, promised to enhance the taste of the innards. With the pan covered, he prepared to cook the skewered innards slowly, knowing that the abundance of meat would require a long cooking time to ensure it was thoroughly done.


    As Pacificus and Merina continued their tasks, the weather outside the hollow trunk was rapidly changing. The clouds over the Ever Resting Forest grew darker, their ominous presence signaling the onset of a heavy rainstorm. The tall trees, towering above the cloud cover, were soon shrouded in a curtain of relentless rainfall. The downpour was intense, transforming the once-dry grasslands into a soggy, marshy expanse. The floodwaters surged and roared, their flow creating a chaotic torrent that threatened to engulf the land.


    Amidst the deluge, the creatures of the forest adapted with remarkable ease. The quick-claws, agile and resourceful, began climbing the immense trees with a practiced grace. Their sharp claws dug into the bark, enabling them to scale the towering trunks and seek refuge from the rising waters. Others found shelter by clinging to the gigantic roots that wound their way through the floodwaters.


    One particularly notable creature was a colossal bear, its size comparable to that of a small house. The bear was adorned with a leaf-like carapace that provided natural armor against the elements. Horns protruded from its head, adding to its imposing presence. With surprising agility for its size, the bear climbed a massive tree with ease, its powerful limbs and sturdy build allowing it to navigate the slippery bark.


    On the bear¡¯s back, three blind cubs clung instinctively to their mother¡¯s carapace. They were still nursing, their tiny forms nestled close to their mother''s body. Once they reached the safety of the tree¡¯s canopy, the bear settled into a protective stance. The carapace shielded them from the relentless rain, forming a natural shelter that kept the cubs dry. As the rain continued to pelt down, the cubs latched onto their mother, drinking deeply from her nourishing milk. The bear¡¯s carapace provided a secure refuge, a small oasis of warmth and safety amidst the raging storm.


    Merina peered out from the exposed sides of the cloth, her curiosity piqued by the mesmerizing transformation unfolding outside. The Ever Resting Forest was enshrouded in a thick mist that swirled and undulated with the rain. Waterfalls cascaded gracefully from the massive branches of the trees.


    The forest, once familiar, had now become a realm of enchanting mystery and raw power. The colossal creatures that roamed these woods sought refuge from the downpour beneath the enormous leaves that draped like natural awnings from the towering trees. These leaves, vast and verdant, shielded the animals from the relentless rain, creating a serene canopy of protection.


    Among these giants, the deer were particularly striking. They were enormous, their size surpassing that of even the largest horses. With an effortless grace, they leapt from branch to branch, navigating the tree trunks as if they were mere horizontal pathways. Their antlers were a spectacle of their own¡ªmagnificent structures adorned with flourishing leaves and vibrant flowers. The rain seemed to glide off their brilliantly colored fur as though it were impervious to water, creating a mesmerizing effect as droplets cascaded effortlessly from their coats.


    Most astonishingly, Merina observed the same herd of deer leaping towards the waterfalls and the churning currents below. To her amazement, they appeared to run on the water¡¯s surface, a feat that seemed impossible. Yet, their nimble hooves skimmed over the raging torrents, their movements as fluid and elegant as the falling rain.


    "It''s beautiful," Merina said, her voice tinged with awe. "And terrifying... you told me you used to train here. Is life always this tough in the forest?"


    Pacificus, who was focused on skewering the stuffed innards, chuckled softly. "At first, it was. But as you train and get to know the environment better... everything seems to get more... easier."


    Merina turned her gaze back to the scene outside, her eyes wide with wonder. "It is so beautiful and terrifying... to think that Arty wants to turn this place into her hunting ground... Pacy, you will train her right?"


    "Of course," Pacificus replied with a warm smile. "She¡¯s like a daughter to me. I¡¯ll teach her how to survive here. I think she has what it takes to not just survive, but to thrive." His smile widened as he added, "I¡¯ll try to teach Apollo and Hyakinthos too."


    Feeling a surge of affection, Merina moved closer to her lover. She wrapped her arms around him in a tender embrace and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Pacy."


    With a contented sigh, she retrieved her scroll and approached the entrance. The mystical sight outside called to her, and she began to sketch the ethereal scene. Her hands moved with practiced skill, capturing the enchanting tableau of the forest¡¯s transformation and the remarkable creatures that inhabited it. The play of light and shadow, the grandeur of the antlered deer, and the majestic waterfalls¡ªall were meticulously documented on her scroll.


    A smile curved her lips as she imagined the reaction of her sisters, Hypatia and Asteria. ¡°Hypatia and Asteria are going to lose their minds once they read this,¡± she mused, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and satisfaction. Her drawings and notes would convey not just the beauty but the sheer awe-inspiring power of the Ever Resting Forest, ensuring that the mystical world she had witnessed would be shared in all its splendor


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    Pacificus woke up to the soft, rhythmic sound of Merina''s breath against his chest. Her head still rested on his shoulder, her hair cascading in dark waves across his arm. Gently, he shifted his body away, careful not to disturb her, and covered her bare, slender form with a thick fur blanket. The rain had long ceased, but the distant roar of the floodwaters remained a reminder of the night''s deluge. The fire in their camp had died down, leaving behind glowing embers. Pacificus carefully added some wood, coaxing the flames back to life. Though the sun had yet to rise, he knew he needed to start breakfast.


    Merina was an early riser, and she would soon wake. His thoughts drifted to the tail he''d butchered into steaks, now ready to be cooked. He was thankful for the pan and grill he had brought along, thanks to Torrent. The young kirin had been invaluable on their journey, carrying tools and supplies with ease, even if his appetite was insatiable.


    Placing the enormous pan over the flames, Pacificus began to prepare the steaks. He reached for his cherished spices: homemade pepper, precious salt, and the crushed flowers of the man-eating plants they had encountered. Each spice was meticulously pressed into the meat, ensuring a perfect blend of flavors.


    As the pan heated, he added a generous dollop of his homemade cooking oil, rendered from beast fat. The white fat slowly melted into a clear, shimmering pool of oil. He laid the steaks in the pan, the meat sizzling loudly as it hit the hot surface, releasing a tantalizing aroma.


    A soft moan caught his attention. He glanced over to see Merina stirring, her bosom exposed as she sat up on their makeshift sleeping bag. Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, met his.


    "Good morning, my love," she murmured, a sheepish smile playing on her lips before she lay back down.


    Pacificus chuckled softly, recalling the passionate night they had shared. He was surprised he had managed to wake up so early, given how many times they had made love. Tenderly, he pulled the fur blanket back over her.


    "Pacy," she whispered, her voice a mix of sleep and desire. "I... I like them rare."


    "Of course, my love," he replied, his voice gentle.


    He turned his attention back to the steaks, monitoring the heat and savoring the aroma. After a few moments, he allowed the meat to rest, ensuring it would be perfectly tender and juicy.


    By then, the irresistible, mouthwatering scent had awakened Merina and Torrent. The kirin and his beloved were drawn to the fire, their senses stirred by the promise of a delicious breakfast.


    And what a meal it was. The steaks were cooked to perfection, their rich flavors enhanced by the homemade spices, and the trio savored every bite. Contentment settled over them as they finished their breakfast. Pacificus and Merina looked towards the entrance of their hollow tree trunk shelter, the world outside still shrouded in darkness. They exchanged puzzled glances, uncertain whether it was already morning or still the depths of night. Traveling through the Ever Resting Forest at night was perilous, especially with the combined light of the seven moons obscured by the dense canopy of towering trees that seemed to touch the heavens.


    Deciding that rest was the best course of action, Merina nestled into Pacificus''s embrace, and he wrapped his arms around her protectively. This time, they simply sought the comfort of each other''s presence, not the passionate love they had shared through the night. They both closed their eyes, intending only to rest until the sun''s light could guide them safely through the forest.


    Merina''s head rested on his shoulder, her breathing steady and soft. Pacificus felt her warmth against him, a soothing reminder of their bond. The faint sounds of nocturnal creatures echoed around them, the forest alive with the rustle of leaves and distant calls of unseen animals. The couple remained undisturbed, cocooned in their peaceful shelter, while outside, the nocturnal beasts resumed their hunt, oblivious to the resting pair.


    When the sun finally blessed the Ever Resting Forest with its light, the lovers stirred. Merina rode atop Torrent, the majestic kirin, as always, while Pacificus navigated the sprawling roots of the ancient trees. The once lush, grass-covered soil of the forest had been transformed into a torrential flood, the water surging violently. They carefully followed the current, mindful of the slippery terrain, knowing that even the strongest creatures of the forest dared not challenge the force of the water.


    They hopped from root to root and branch to branch, navigating the labyrinth of the gigantic trees. They were not alone in their journey. Alongside them, enormous deer with flowers growing from their antlers gracefully leaped from one root and branch to another, effortlessly crossing the raging waters. The pair paused, captivated by the sight of the herd as they danced across the flood with an elegant ease.


    Above, a herd of winged horses soared into the sky, their powerful wings carrying them effortlessly above the turmoil below.


    "Pacy," Merina called out, her eyes fixed on the sky. "Those are pegasi, Pacy!" She beamed with excitement. "I thought they were extinct."


    "What? Really? There are so many of them here. They might be one of the most numerous beasts in this forest."


    "Really?" she replied, wide-eyed. Her smile broadened. "You really lived in a different world, Pacy."


    He chuckled. "I actually have bad experiences with pegasi."


    "Like what?"


    "They kept eating my crops during the summer."


    Merina giggled, then laughed. "I haven''t seen it yet, Pacy. Maybe you need to tame them." She giggled again. "I wouldn''t mind riding one, though. You know, Pacy, the heroes from my homeland are known to ride a pegasus."


    "Wait... so why did they go extinct?"


    "I don''t know... but I heard the stories from my mother. The nobles tried to tame and breed them. Unfortunately, the farmers never found a way to breed the pegasi, and they went extinct due to people''s attempts to tame them. Sometimes that effort led to the death of both the pegasus and the tamer."


    "Oh... that... that is really unfortunate." He looked at the pegasi flying from one branch to another. "At least here they have their own sanctuary."


    Merina smiled. "Yes... perhaps one day they will return to my motherland."

 Chapter 20: The Big Day

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    Apollo sat in the dimly lit classroom, trying to focus on the lesson at hand. Hypatia, his esteemed teacher, had always been able to hold his attention with her vast knowledge and engaging teaching style. However, this new class was a different story.


    His discomfort was palpable. Surrounding him were noble children, their gazes frequently darting in his direction. Apollo knew why. His gift, Sun-born, made him exceptionally striking, especially during the day when sunlight caressed his skin, causing it to shimmer with an almost ethereal glow. The radiance made him the focal point of the room, drawing eyes to him whether he wanted it or not.


    He could feel the weight of their stares, their curiosity and admiration, making him shift uneasily in his seat. It was hard to concentrate on the intricacies of poison when he was acutely aware of every glance, every whisper directed at him. The attention, though well-meaning, felt like a burden, and it only intensified his struggle to learn.


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    Pacificus''s hut did not remain empty, despite his and Merina''s journey to the Ever Resting Forest. Inside Pacificus''s farm, three children, Demether, Iason and Hyankinthos, tended to the crops. Hyankinthos, strikingly beautiful and feminine in his delicate blouse, wore a serene smile as he worked. His presence was almost ethereal, a gentle contrast to the earthy surroundings. Beside him, Demether moved with practiced ease, her hands deftly handling the plants.


    "Haya," Demether whispered, glancing around cautiously.


    "Yes, sis?" Hyankinthos responded softly, not pausing in his task.


    "How long is she going to stand there?" Demether asked, her eyes flicking towards a woman clad in the robes of Juno. The woman''s plate armor gleamed dully in the sunlight, and her imposing presence cast a shadow over the garden.


    "I''m sorry, sis," Hyankinthos replied. "Mother Augusta told me I can only leave when a guard is with me."


    "Haya, she''s with you even when you''re taking a dump," Demether said, her voice tinged with frustration.


    "I know, I know," Hyankinthos sighed, lowering his voice. "Keep your voice down. I don''t think she likes me."


    "I... I can actually feel that," Demether murmured, shivering slightly as she glanced at the stern guard.


    While the two are tending to the farm. Iason was tending to the man eating plants, there was an unsettling smile on his face as he looks tends to its flowers.


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    As night approached, Artemis hopped out of bed. She savored the meal lovingly cooked by her mother, Caecilia, who had always supported her unconditionally. Encouraged by her brother Apollo''s openness, Artemis had decided to share her gifts and flaws. The woman who had adopted them both, smiling warmly, expressed her happiness at their growing trust.


    Artemis''s skill, Moon-Born, made her strongest during the night. With the moonlight bathing the world in its silver glow, she felt invigorated. She moved swiftly, beginning her nightly training. She ran laps around the town, pausing for prayers whenever she felt tired, drawing strength and focus from the quiet moments of reflection.


    After her run, she practiced her bow. The targets, shrouded in darkness, were difficult to see for most, but not for Artemis. The moonlight illuminated them just enough for her keen eyes to spot, and she hit each one with ease, her arrows finding their marks effortlessly.


    As she was practicing, something towards the horizon caught her attention. Lights¡ªmany of them¡ªflickered in the distance. Intrigued and wary, she approached cautiously, her footsteps silent. When she reached the source of the lights, her face paled. There must have been thousands of them. The lights were campfires, and she saw tents and men in armor. They wielded an array of weapons: halberds, swords, bows, and crossbows. Griffins and armored alces, wingless hippogriffs, rested by the fires, their formidable presence adding to the menacing scene. Men in robes with giant hats roamed the camp, staffs in hand, their movements deliberate and authoritative..


    Each tent bore a yellow banner emblazoned with a gryphon.


    Seeing this, Artemis felt a surge of panic. Her heart raced as she turned and fled. She ran as fast as she could, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. Despite her fear, her mind remained clear¡ªshe needed to warn the guards. She sprinted through the night, driven by urgency and the desperate need to protect her home.


    <hr>


    "I see," said the man, his voice heavy with fatigue. His corpulent form seemed to sag under the weight of his deep-set, tired eyes, shadowed by dark rings. "I expected them to come, but not from that direction."


    "Yes, my Lord," replied a woman in Juno''s robes, her armor gleaming even in the dim light. "The forces of Lord Rowan have arrived from the west. A child reported their presence to the guards. We sent a patrol group to confirm it, and only one woman returned with confirmation."


    The man sighed deeply, the sound filled with a sorrowful resolve. "Have funerary rites for the brave patrol group. I want them to have full honors."


    "Thank you, my Lord."


    "General Marcus," he called, his voice carrying the weight of authority as he addressed an old man clad in worn, battle-scarred armor.


    "Yes, my Lord," the old man responded, stepping forward with a stiff but respectful bow.


    "Prepare the militia. Get ready for a siege."


    "Yes, my Lord."


    The bells of war tolled, their sound echoing through the town with a chilling resonance. The fat noble made his way towards the armory, each step deliberate, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. Servants bustled around him, fitting him into his golden armor, which was adorned with elaborate frills and sculpted symbols. The armor was a testament to his status, grandiose and beautiful, yet almost out of place in the impending chaos.


    In the streets, panic spread like wildfire among the commoners. Mothers frantically hid their children in basements, their faces etched with fear. Women and older children hurriedly donned makeshift armor¡ªlayers of leather, fur, and thick clothing¡ªanything that might offer some protection. Their weapons were crude: spears fashioned from kitchen knives tied to sticks, axes used for chopping wood, and hammers meant for nails and metalwork. Hunters clutched their bows with grim determination, while those with warrior kin took up their fathers'' or husbands'' swords, the steel cold and heavy in their hands.


    Warrior monks raced to the town walls, their robes flapping in the wind as they unfurled banners of their faith, hoping to bolster the spirits of the defenders. Carpenters worked feverishly to reinforce the gates, the sound of hammers and saws a frantic symphony of preparation. The great wooden doors were braced with iron and additional timbers, a barrier meant to hold back the coming storm.


    In the noble quarters, a different scene of urgency played out. The nobles rushed to their private armories, donning ornate armor inlaid with gold and silver, adorned with family crests and intricate designs. Their faces were pale but resolute, a mix of dread and duty as they prepared for the inevitable conflict.


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    Apollo stood at the walls of the noble district, the fortifications here much sturdier and taller than those of the commoners. He hadn¡¯t slept since his sister had woken him from his slumber, accompanied by the woman who had adopted him¡ªor rather, his mother. The night''s events left him worried about Artemis¡¯s reaction. He couldn''t tell if she was scared or excited.


    Now, he stood at the battlements, wearing chainmail that clinked softly with every movement. Only the non-blessed children were excused from fighting, but Apollo, having received his blessing just a month or two ago, was required to fight on the frontlines, much to his dismay. He and Hyakinthos had spent the night on the walls, while Artemis stood guard beside one of the banners.


    Their job was simple yet crucial: guard the walls and pour mana continuously into the banners to maintain their magical defenses.


    The morning sun was rising, casting a golden glow over the town. It was Apollo''s turn to keep watch. Behind him, a ballista was manned by warrior monks of Juno, their eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of the enemy. Even in these tense moments, the young girls couldn''t help but steal glances at Apollo as the sunlight bathed him, highlighting his striking appearance. He was indeed very eye-catching during the day, earning him the nickname "Eye Candy Apollo."


    Apollo gazed out over the horizon, his sharp eyes picking out the glint of spears and the silhouettes of gryphons and hippogriffs in the distance. He chuckled softly to himself when he noticed the enemy soldiers shielding their eyes as they marched towards the sunrise.


    He yawned and turned to Hyakinthos. "Are the others okay?" he asked.


    Hyakinthos, with his delicate features framed by the morning light, looked serious. "Most of our brothers and sisters are hiding under the orphanage. Some of them are staying at Big Brother Pacy''s hut." He frowned, his worry evident. "I''m worried, Polo. What if they decide to go to Big Brother''s hut? He¡¯s not there to protect them."


    Apollo''s expression turned serious as well. "You¡¯re right, Haya... we need to do something."


    Apollo observed the enemy warriors making camp, his keen eyes taking in every detail. He watched as the soldiers cut trees, their movements cautious as they carefully avoided the borders of the Ever Resting Forest. To a normal person, this avoidance might seem like a simple strategic decision, but Apollo was different. During the day, his gift enhanced his eyesight, allowing him to notice things others couldn''t.


    He scanned the surroundings, noting the construction of siege engines, the soldiers working tirelessly to prepare for the assault. He watched their hunters spread out, foraging and hunting for food, living off the land. His worry deepened at the thought that these hunters might stumble upon Pacificus''s hut if they wandered too far. Yet, he felt a measure of relief as he noticed their clear reluctance to venture near the Ever Resting Forest.


    From his vantage point, he saw a hunter creeping too close to the gigantic trees of the forest. Suddenly, a massive bird-like creature, as large as a house, swooped down and snatched the hunter, disappearing into the dense foliage. The hunter''s companions stood frozen in fear for a moment before fleeing, their terror palpable.


    In another instance, Apollo saw a carpenter attempting to chop wood near the forest''s edge. Without warning, the tree he aimed to cut came to life, revealing itself to be an angry treant. The creature swatted the carpenter away, sending him hurtling through the air to his death.


    "To think Arty would like to hunt in that forest," Apollo sighed, shaking his head "Wait a minute... Arty," Apollo muttered under his breath, as an idea began to take shape in his mind.


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    Without wasting any time, he quickly made his way out of the noble''s quarters, flanked by a sleepy Artemis and the ever-beautiful Hyakinthos. As they moved through the dimly lit streets, warrior monks of Juno frowned upon seeing them, hurling admonishments their way. But Apollo paid them no mind. He had a plan, and nothing was going to stop him from seeing it through.


    "Arty, you should go back to sleep, you know," Hyakinthos said gently, concern lacing his voice.


    "I don¡¯t want to," Artemis replied, stifling a yawn. "I want to fight too, you know. Our siblings are in the commoner¡¯s district."


    They approached a nearby wall tower, its stone surface cold and rough beneath their hands as they climbed. At the top, a ballista was manned by children their own age, their faces serious and their eyes weary from the long night. The massive siege weapon loomed above them, its bolts glinting ominously in the morning light.


    "Can we borrow that?" Apollo asked, pointing at the ballista.


    "Sure," one of the kids answered with a shrug, stepping aside to let Apollo take a closer look.


    "I wish we could hit them," another child muttered, gazing out at the enemy camp near the walls. "Their camp is just right there."


    He pointed toward the enemy encampment, a sprawling mass of tents and flickering campfires. The enemy had chosen their location with care¡ªfar enough from the walls to avoid siege weapons and magic, but close enough to ensure that any attempt to flee the town would be futile.


    "Can we shoot?" Apollo asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied the camp.


    "You can," one of the kids replied hesitantly, "but I wouldn¡¯t recommend it. They¡¯re too far away."


    Apollo''s lips curled into a confident grin. He turned his gaze to Artemis and Hyakinthos, his mind racing with the possibilities. The sunlight filtered through the clouds, casting a golden hue over the landscape, and he felt the power of his gift surging within him. During the day, his strength was at its peak, and his vision was unmatched. He could see the enemy camp with perfect clarity, every detail etched into his mind.


    He knew that with the right calculations and a little luck, they could make the shot. His grin widened as he grasped the ballista¡¯s controls, feeling the tension in the ropes and the weight of the massive bolt. This wasn¡¯t just a weapon; it was an extension of his power, a means to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy before the battle even began.


    "Let¡¯s see if we can¡¯t give them something to think about," Apollo said, his voice steady with determination.


    Artemis and Hyakinthos exchanged glances, their weariness momentarily forgotten as they caught the spark of excitement in Apollo''s eyes. They nodded, stepping up beside him, ready to help.


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    Apollo adjusted the angle of the ballista, his fingers moving with an almost unnatural precision as he calculated the distance and trajectory. The massive weapon creaked under the strain, its ropes taut, and its mechanisms ready to unleash destruction.


    "This is going to hurt," Apollo muttered to himself, forcing a smile in an attempt to mask the nervousness that churned in his gut. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed the fear aside, knowing what he needed to do. Taking a deep breath, he called upon his gift¡ªSolaris.


    With the light from the sun and the power of his own soul, Apollo''s eyes began to glow a brilliant gold. The radiant energy flowed through him, pulsing with the rhythm of his heartbeat, until it spilled out, enveloping the ballista and its massive bolt. The weapon seemed to hum with power, the wood and iron glowing faintly as if infused with the very essence of the sun.


    But with that power came pain¡ªsearing, unbearable pain. Apollo screamed in agony as his flaw¡ªthe price of his gift¡ªbegan to burn his soul. It felt like fire coursing through his veins, consuming him from within. His vision blurred, but he held on, gritting his teeth as he fought to keep control.


    Seconds stretched into what felt like hours as he aimed the charging ballista, every moment dragging as the pain intensified. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his body trembling from the strain, but his resolve never wavered. He knew he had to make this shot count.


    His target was clear: the most opulent, extravagant tent at the center of the enemy camp, adorned with banners and symbols that marked it as the command tent. It stood out like a beacon, a symbol of the enemy¡¯s power and arrogance. If he could strike it down, it would send a message¡ªa warning that they were not to be underestimated.


    Apollo''s vision sharpened, the world around him narrowing to a single point as he focused on the target. He could see every detail of the tent, from the fluttering banners to the armored figures moving around it. He adjusted his aim one final time, the pain almost unbearable now, but he refused to let it break him.


    With a surge of willpower, he released the bolt. The ballista roared as it fired, the glowing bolt streaking through the air like a comet, trailing light and fire in its wake.


    <hr>


    A man dressed in brilliant gold armor sat at the center of his tent, surrounded by men clad in the most prestigious plate armor. His own armor was even more resplendent, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, but those before him were no less impressive, their armor gleaming with intricate designs and adorned with the surcoat of the gryphon¡ªa symbol of their house.


    "I want to get this siege over in a few days," he commanded, his voice authoritative and resolute. "We will adhere to the book of tactics: destroy the town and its walls with bombardment and magic, then we charge."


    "My Lord, that strategy will take us months," a younger man in ornate armor protested, his voice tinged with frustration. "I say we strike them down using our numbers."


    "You are underestimating the defenders," an older man interjected, his voice steady and experienced. "They may be women and children, but they are also blessed. Do not underestimate the blessings of the Gods, even if these blessed ones are non-combatants."


    "These defenders are just farmers and craftsmen. We could take them easily. I say we strike at night and¡ª"


    Before he could finish, the world erupted into chaos. The men were flung high into the air, their surroundings tumbling into a dizzying maelstrom. They landed with bone-jarring thuds, their bodies crashing against the ground with a sickening impact. The man in gold struggled to breathe, a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest indicating that his ribs had likely pierced his lung.


    His vision was a blur of fiery red and dark shadows. Through the haze, he saw the remains of what was once his tent: now a vast, gaping crater, smoldering with the remnants of a catastrophic explosion. The air was filled with the acrid smell of smoke and burning flesh. Knights scrambled through the wreckage, their armor charred and faces distorted, some barely recognizable as they tried to lift their wounded commanders.


    The sounds around him were a chaotic symphony of distress. The blaring of bells pierced through the smoke, a frantic signal of the assault. Shouts of panic and commands filled the air, mixing with the crackling of flames.


    "ENEMY ATTACK!"


    "KEEP THAT SHIELD UP!"


    "MOVE, MAGES, MOVE! WE MUST COUNTERATTACK!"


    "NO! DON''T ATTACK! DO NOT AT¡ªAGGGGGHHH!"


    Another explosion shattered the relative calm, sending men and burning debris flying. Soldiers fled in every direction, their figures silhouetted against the raging fire. This time, the blast struck the rear of the camp, amplifying the chaos and confusion.


    "MAGIC BOMBARDMENT!"


    "HOLD THE BANNERS! STARS ABOVE, HOLD THOSE BANNERS!"


    "MOVE AWAY FROM THE CAMP! MOVE AWAY FROM THE¡ªGODS ABOVE!"


    Yet another explosion rocked the camp, the force of it jarring and unrelenting. It was the final blow; the camp began to retreat, moving further from the walls as they scrambled to regroup and reassess their strategy.


    The man in gold armor was lifted by his knights, who maneuvered through the chaos with grim determination. Their faces were set in steely resolve, even as the world around them fell apart. The man¡¯s breath was labored, each inhale a struggle, but his knights remained calm and focused as they carried him away from the burning devastation, seeking refuge and safety amidst the turmoil.


    <hr>


    Apollo lay unconscious from the excruciating pain, his eyes rolled back into his head, his body convulsing uncontrollably. Hyakinthos cradled him gently, using his lap as a pillow, his hands trembling as he massaged Apollo''s head, hoping to soothe his brother¡¯s agony.


    Artemis was beside them, her hands deftly crushing the herbs she kept in her pocket. She brought them to Apollo''s nose, letting him inhale their potent scent, praying it would ease his suffering. Both siblings were worried sick, their hearts heavy with fear and concern. They knew all too well the agony of Apollo¡¯s flaw, the unbearable pain that came with using his gift. Yet he had pushed himself not once, but thrice, each scream more harrowing than the last.


    After what felt like an eternity, Apollo stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked up at the anxious faces of Hyakinthos and Artemis.


    "Wha-what happened?" he croaked, his voice weak and raspy.


    Artemis glanced toward the enemy camp, where soldiers were still in disarray, running away in panic. "I don¡¯t know how you managed to withstand such pain, brother, but you did it. You sent them running."


    "Did they run away from the town?" Apollo asked, trying to sit up but wincing from the lingering pain.


    "They are digging a trench near the¡ª"


    "Then my job isn¡¯t done," Apollo interrupted, determination flickering in his eyes. "I could still do one more¡ª"


    "NO!" Hyakinthos and Artemis cried in unison, their voices filled with alarm.


    "I don¡¯t want to hear you scream like that again, Polo," Hyakinthos said, his eyes glistening with worry. He gripped Apollo''s hand tightly, his fingers trembling.


    "Same here, brother," Artemis added, her voice soft but firm. "I don¡¯t want to see you in pain again."


    Apollo looked at his siblings, seeing the fear and concern etched on their faces. His heart ached, not just from the physical pain but from the realization of how much he had scared them. He reached out, his hand trembling, and grasped theirs.


    "I¡¯m sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I just wanted to protect you all."


    "We know," Hyakinthos answered, his voice soft and understanding.


    A voice from behind them broke the tense silence. "Woah," exclaimed one of the children still watching the burning camp and retreating forces. "Did you just destroy them?" he asked the trio with a smile, his eyes wide with admiration and awe.


    Apollo managed a weak smile. "I guess?" he replied, feeling a mixture of pride and exhaustion. "Keep this secret, okay?"


    "Our lips are sealed, my friend," the kids replied, grinning widely. They looked at Apollo with newfound respect, their eyes shining with the thrill of witnessing something extraordinary.


    With a collective sigh of relief, Apollo, Hyakinthos, and Artemis began to move away from the tower wall. Apollo leaned heavily on Hyakinthos, his body still weak and aching from the exertion. Artemis stayed close, her sharp eyes scanning their surroundings, vigilant against any unwelcome attention. The bond between them felt stronger now, a silent understanding that they would protect each other, no matter the cost.


    They spent the rest of the day near the walls of the noble''s district, each in their own quiet way dealing with the aftermath of the morning''s events. Artemis, exhausted from the night and the stress of Apollo''s ordeal, curled up in a quiet corner and drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. Hyakinthos, ever the nurturing presence, made sure they had something to eat, though his thoughts were never far from Apollo. He kept glancing over, worry etched on his delicate features.


    Apollo, still recovering, sat in the shade, his gaze fixed on the enemy camp in the distance. He watched as the invaders toiled away, digging their trench with grim determination. His mind was already working on the next step, calculating the best moment to strike again. But he knew he couldn''t push himself too soon. Not today. Maybe tonight, under the cover of darkness, when his sister¡¯s power was at its peak, and his own body had a chance to rest.


    Meanwhile, in the noble''s district, tension rippled through the ranks of the defenders. An old man, his weathered face framed by the brilliant armor he wore beneath the red scapular of Mars, stormed through the streets. His eyes were sharp with anger and confusion. "Who?... Who fired that magic?" he demanded, his voice carrying an authority that brooked no argument. "I demand to see the mage that cast that spell!"


    His words echoed through the courtyard, drawing the attention of soldiers and servants alike. They whispered among themselves, exchanging puzzled glances. None could answer him, for no one knew the identity of the mysterious mage who had unleashed such devastating power.


    Nearby, a fat noble stood watching the retreat of the enemy forces, a pleased smile playing on his lips. His corpulent form was adorned with layers of rich fabrics, his fingers heavy with rings. He observed the chaos in the enemy camp with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. The siege wasn¡¯t over¡ªnot by a long shot¡ªbut this unexpected turn of events had shifted the balance in their favor, at least for now.


    The noble chuckled to himself, a low, rumbling sound. He knew luck had played a hand in this, that the enemy had been caught off guard by the sudden and precise attack. Even he, a man who prided himself on knowing everything that happened within his domain, was unaware that such a powerful mage resided among his people. The thought both intrigued and delighted him.


    As the fat noble turned away from the walls, his mind was already working on how to capitalize on this newfound advantage. Perhaps he would find this mysterious mage, reward them handsomely, and ensure their loyalty. Or perhaps it was better to leave such a force in the shadows, a hidden ace that could be played when the time was right.


    For now, though, he would allow himself a moment of satisfaction. The sight of the enemy''s retreat was a balm to his soul, a sign that perhaps, just perhaps, they might survive this siege after all.


    <hr>


    That night, the three misfits moved like shadows beneath the veil of darkness. Artemis landed with the grace of a falling leaf, her steps so light that even the grass beneath her feet remained undisturbed. Apollo, too weak to jump, was cradled in Hyakinthos¡¯s arms, carried in a lover''s embrace as they descended from the wall. They descended from the wall together, Hyakinthos¡¯s strong legs absorbing the impact as they touched down. In the stillness of the night, their breaths were the only sound, each one careful and measured.


    Their destination was the enemy camp, a shadowy maze of tents and trenches. They moved with silent precision, Artemis leading the way. The moons hung low in the sky, casting a pale light over the landscape, but the night remained thick with darkness, cloaking their movements. They kept to the edges, avoiding the heart of the camp where watchful eyes might catch a glimpse of movement.


    Even with the scant light, Artemis navigated the terrain effortlessly, her senses heightened by the night. The trio didn¡¯t dare venture too deep into enemy territory; they were acutely aware of the danger. One misstep, one sound, and they would be exposed. But Artemis was undeterred¡ªshe thrived in the darkness, where others faltered.


    "Sis, aren¡¯t you too far away to draw your bow?" Apollo whispered, his voice barely audible, tinged with concern.


    Artemis turned her head slightly, a small, confident smile playing on her lips. "I¡¯m close enough," she replied, her tone steady and assured. Drawing upon her gift, Lunaris, she began to channel the mana within her soul, weaving it together with the soft, silvery light of the stars and moons that hung overhead. The energy flowed into her bow, filling it with a quiet power that pulsed like a heartbeat.


    She held her breath, concentrating the gathered power into the arrow she had nocked. The air around her seemed to shimmer as she focused, the arrow glowing faintly with a subdued light. She was careful, keeping the glow dim, not wanting to reveal their position to the enemy watch.


    "Sis, wait until the mage lets go of the banner," Apollo cautioned, his voice urgent but calm. "Those banners are Aegis shields¡ªno projectile or magic can pierce them... unless you¡¯ve got enough power to destroy it."


    "I know," Artemis whispered back, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the trenches below. "But where should I aim? They¡¯re all in the ditches."


    "Anywhere, sis. Just remind them that they shouldn¡¯t sleep," Apollo whispered, his voice carrying a grim determination.


    A cold smile touched Artemis¡¯s lips. "Oh, they won¡¯t be sleeping anytime soon," she murmured.


    She raised her bow, her movements smooth and precise, her form steady as a statue. The bowstring stretched taut, humming with the concentrated energy it held. Her breath was slow and controlled, her heartbeat steady as she aimed at the distant trenches. She could feel the power coursing through her, the energy of the stars and moons melding with her own, amplifying her strength.


    Then, with a sudden, fluid motion, she released the arrow.


    <hr>


    Deep within the trenches, a man clad in golden armor staggered forward, the emblem of the gryphon on his tattered yellow surcoat barely visible beneath the grime and blood. His armor, once gleaming with the promise of invincibility, now bore the scars of battle, dented and scorched, yet it had saved him from certain death. The weight of his helmet pressed heavily on his head, but he kept it on, aware that another dishonorable strike in the dark could end him if he wasn¡¯t careful.


    He trudged through the narrow trench, his boots sinking into the ground. The air was thick with tension, the once bustling camp now eerily quiet, save for the muted murmurs of his men. They were all on edge, their eyes wide with fear and exhaustion. The banners hung limp in the night air, their magic straining under the constant demand. These Aegis shields were their only defense, powerful enough to nullify magic and deflect projectiles, yet they drained the mages who sustained them, their faces pale and drawn from the exertion.


    As he inspected his troops, the man in golden armor could see the toll the unexpected attack had taken. The soldiers were demoralized, their spirits crushed by the sheer force of the magical bombardment. Despite their desire for vengeance, the fear was palpable. They all bore the marks of the earlier assault¡ªburns, cuts, and bruises¡ªreminders of how close they had come to death. The acrid stench of burnt flesh still lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of charred wood and metal.


    The man¡¯s gaze shifted to the ruined tents where their food supplies had been stored. What little remained was scattered, useless. The destruction of their provisions was a devastating blow, leaving the men anxious about the days ahead. He sighed heavily, the sound muffled by his helmet. He could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on him, the knowledge that his men were relying on him to lead them through this nightmare.


    His attention was drawn to the mages, who were exchanging one of the banners. The Aegis shield flickered momentarily as the mage released their hold, another stepping in to take their place. In that fleeting moment, the air crackled with tension, as if the very night itself was holding its breath.


    And then, without warning, the world exploded.


    A searing light erupted from the trenches, brighter and more violent than anything they had experienced before. It was as if a moon had been born right in the midst of their camp, its light consuming everything in its path. The explosion was deafening, a concussive force that ripped through the air, sending men and debris flying. There was no time to react, no time to scream. One moment they stood ready, the next they were thrown like ragdolls, their bodies caught in the blast.


    Wooden supports shattered into deadly shrapnel, the fragments whistling through the air like arrows, tearing through flesh and armor with terrifying ease. One splinter, sharp as a dagger, pierced the banner of an active Aegis shield, shattering it in an instant. The once mighty barrier fell, leaving the men exposed to the full fury of the magical assault. The trench, which had offered some semblance of protection, was now a crater, a gaping wound in the earth filled with the remnants of what had once been a camp.


    The man in golden armor found himself lying on the ground, his body numb, his mind reeling. The impact had left him dazed, his vision a blur of shapes and shadows. The ringing in his ears drowned out all other sounds, and for a moment, he thought he was back in the heat of the earlier attack. But this was different¡ªthis was worse. He tried to breathe, but the air caught in his throat, the pain radiating from his chest unbearable. The damage to his armor was severe, the once protective shell now a prison that made every breath an agony.


    Around him, chaos reigned. Those who had escaped the worst of the blast were in a state of panic, their voices rising in a cacophony of fear and confusion.


    "ENEMY ATTACK!" a soldier screamed, his voice cracking with terror.


    "MAGICAL BOMBARDMENT!" another shouted, his eyes wide with disbelief.


    "WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR BANNERS?" a third cried out, frantically searching for the fallen shields.


    "THE MAGIC PIERCED THROUGH IT!" a mage stammered, his hands trembling as he tried to summon another barrier.


    "GODS HELP US!" came the desperate plea of a wounded man, his voice hoarse and broken.


    "WE''VE GOT WOUNDED¡ªSEND SOME AID!" a knight bellowed, his face pale as he surveyed the devastation.


    The man in golden armor tried to push himself up, but his body refused to obey, the pain too overwhelming. All he could do was lie there, his breath shallow, as the world around him descended into madness.

 Chapter 21: First Blood

    Time seemed to stretch endlessly for Artemis as she watched her arrow soar through the night sky. The moment it connected with the enemy trench, a magical explosion erupted, shaped like a brilliant moon. Debris and bodies were sent hurtling into the air, a chaotic ballet of destruction illuminated by the soft, ethereal glow of her power. A triumphant smile briefly graced her lips, the satisfaction of a well-placed shot flooding her veins.


    But the victory was short-lived. Almost immediately, her body weakened, her limbs going limp as the flaw of her spell, Lunaris, took hold. She crumpled to the ground, the strength drained from her small frame. "Polo... Haya," she whispered, her voice fragile and frightened. "Help."


    Without hesitation, Hyakinthos scooped her up, carrying her tenderly as they made their way back to the safety of the walls. The night was still, the distant sounds of the enemy camp a faint echo in the distance. As they reached the base of the wall, Hyakinthos, with Artemis clinging weakly to his back, began the arduous climb. His muscles strained, but he moved with determination that had always defined him. Once they reached the top, he gently set Artemis down before extending a hand to Apollo, pulling him up with a reassuring smile.


    "Did we get them?" Artemis asked weakly, her voice laced with both hope and exhaustion.


    "Probably," Apollo replied, his tone contemplative. "We probably just annoyed them."


    Artemis frowned, confusion knitting her brow. "What? How can that be? We must have at least killed one of them."


    Apollo shook his head gently. "Arty, they¡¯re adults. Their ranks are probably much higher than ours. We¡¯re just rank 1, and they must be rank 3 or 5. Plus, we have to consider their equipment. Their armor likely protected them from the worst of the blasts... but we did hurt them."


    Artemis let out a soft sigh, her earlier excitement dimming into resignation. "Oh... so we hurt them... then that is fine with me."


    With that, they quietly made their way back to the noble¡¯s district, the once tense atmosphere now settling into a somber calm.


    Hyakinthos busied himself in the small kitchen, his hands methodically peeling and slicing potatoes, their earthy scent filling the room. He boiled them over a small fire, the simple task grounding him after the chaos of the night. As the potatoes softened, he set some aside, carefully planting them in his mother¡¯s garden.


    Meanwhile, his siblings had already drifted off to sleep on the cold stone of the castle wall, their exhaustion overpowering any discomfort. The night air was cool and soothing, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the garden as Hyakinthos finished his meal.


    When he finally joined them, the events of the night played on his mind.


    <hr>


    That night, the man in golden armor lay motionless on the cold earth, his body battered and broken, yet his spirit aflame with a seething rage. Around him, the remnants of his forces worked tirelessly, digging a new trench further from the devastation that had befallen them. The apothecaries hovered over him, their hands glowing softly as they channeled healing magic into his wounds, but even their efforts couldn¡¯t soothe the tempest raging within.


    As the apothecaries worked, a man in gleaming armor approached, the wings on his helmet catching the faint light of the distant moon. He knelt beside the fallen leader, his posture respectful, but his eyes betraying a deep concern. "My Lord," he said, his voice low and measured, "What are your orders?"


    The man in golden armor turned his head slowly, his gaze locking onto the other with a fury that seemed to burn through the slits of his helmet. The air around him thickened with an almost tangible malice, a bloodlust so potent that even the apothecaries felt a chill crawl down their spines.


    "Tomorrow," he rasped, his voice weak and strained, but the authority in his words undeniable. "Tomorrow you attack the town with the hippogriffs and the gryphons."


    The general hesitated, his concern deepening. "But sir, their defenses are still¡ª"


    "That is an order, General," the man in golden armor interrupted, his voice little more than a whisper, yet laced with an edge so sharp it cut through the night air. His bloodlust was palpable, a dark aura that seeped from every inch of his being. "Avenge us, General. Avenge us! Kill them! Pillage them! Assault them! Do whatever it takes to hurt them! Make them suffer!¡­ Do you understand?"


    The general, feeling the weight of his lord¡¯s wrath pressing down on him, bowed his head, his voice steady as he replied, "Yes, my Lord, your will be done."


    With that, the general rose to his feet, the weight of his lord¡¯s command heavy on his shoulders. The night around them was still, but the promise of bloodshed hung in the air, thick and foreboding. As the man in golden armor lay back, the apothecaries continued their work, their hands trembling ever so slightly as they tended to their master, knowing that the dawn would bring with it a storm of vengeance.


    <hr>


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    A young guard stood at his post atop a tower, his armor ill-fitting and too large for his slender frame. The first light of dawn began to crest behind him, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and gold. He rubbed his tired eyes, squinting into the distance as something caught his attention. At first, it was just a speck on the horizon, but as it drew closer, his heart sank with a cold dread. Gryphons and hippogriffs¡ªwinged beasts of war¡ªwere soaring toward the town, their majestic forms casting ominous shadows on the ground below.


    Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. His pulse quickened, and he turned, lunging for the bell. The sound rang out, sharp and urgent, echoing across the town. "ENEMY ATTACK!" he cried, his voice breaking with the strain. "ENEMY ATTACK! WATCH THE SKY! WATCH THE SKY!"


    Above, the gryphons and hippogriffs climbed higher into the morning sky, their powerful wings beating rhythmically. In their claws, they carried massive boulders, the weight straining even these mighty creatures. The boy¡¯s heart pounded as he watched them ascend to heights beyond the reach of arrows or magic. If not for the previous night''s attack by Apollo and Artemis, those boulders would have been even more deadly, filled with explosive pots that could have rained destruction upon the town. But now, they were reduced to mere stones¡ªdangerous still, but far less destructive.


    The boulders began to fall. They hurtled toward the earth, but their altitude made accuracy nearly impossible. The heavy stones crashed down onto roofs, smashing through the tiles and timbers, or thudded against the town¡¯s walls, where they ricocheted off the fortifications, their impact absorbed by the Aegis shields raised by the defenders. The townspeople, initially gripped by fear, soon found themselves more annoyed than terrified. The boulders, while destructive, did little more than inconvenience the defenders, leaving the real strategic targets untouched.


    But the enemy¡¯s assault did not go unanswered.


    From the noble district, the warrior monks of Juno took to the skies, their steely resolve evident as they mounted their giant birds. These magnificent creatures, with their long, graceful necks and vibrant plumage of blues, greens, and pure whites, cut through the air like arrows. The warrior women, fierce and unyielding, rode them with practiced ease, their eyes locked on the incoming gryphons and hippogriffs.


    The sky became a battlefield, a chaotic dance of feathers and claws. The giant birds of the warrior monks clashed with the armored gryphons, talons raking against feathers and beaks snapping with lethal precision. Soldiers from both sides leapt from their steeds mid-flight, landing on the backs of enemy mounts in a desperate melee. Steel met steel in vicious skirmishes, the air filled with the clang of swords and the cries of battle.


    The gryphon riders, worshippers of Jupiter, held the advantage in the skies. Blessed by their god, they moved with unparalleled agility, leaping through the air as if defying gravity itself. Each jump was precise, each strike calculated. But the warrior monks of Juno were far from defenseless. Juno¡¯s blessing flowed through them, their weapons imbued with divine power. Their swords pierced armor that should have held fast, and their hammers fell with the force of a thunderclap, shattering shields and bones alike. The monks'' strength was unmatched, especially against the men who sought to bring them harm.


    Blood began to rain down from the heavens, droplets spattering the ground below like the first drops of a storm. Bodies followed, tumbling from the sky like broken dolls, the once proud warriors now lifeless as they fell to the earth. The beasts, too, began to drop, their wings battered and torn, unable to sustain flight. The battle above raged on, a brutal and unrelenting struggle for dominance, the outcome far from certain as the sun rose higher, casting a grim light on the carnage below.


    <hr>


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    Then the horns of war were blown, their mournful sound echoing across the battlefield, signaling the enemy¡¯s advance. The soldiers, clad in their war-worn armor, began their march forward. The ground trembled under the weight of their boots as they moved in a tight, disciplined formation, their shields raised high, their banners fluttering in the wind, casting protective Aegis shields over them. There were no siege weapons, no ladders¡ªjust sheer determination as they chanted the names of their gods, their voices rising in unison like a hymn to war.


    From atop the walls of the noble''s district, an old man watched the advancing army with a calculating eye. A smile crept across his weathered face as he observed the approaching force. "This is perfect," he muttered, his voice filled with grim satisfaction. He turned to the warrior monks and the squires gathered nearby. "Go to the commoner''s district!" he barked, his tone sharp and commanding. "Earn your glory and honor!"


    The enemy continued their advance, undeterred, their formation tight and impenetrable. Their banners, held high in the center of their ranks, shimmered with the protective magic of the Aegis shields, rendering them nearly invulnerable to projectiles and spells. But the children on the walls¡ªthe young defenders of the town¡ªdid not stand idle.


    At the ballistae, the children worked with a practiced efficiency. They loaded the massive bolts, their hands steady despite the weight of the task. "Help me load the banner slayers," one child called out, his voice firm. Together, they heaved the heavy bolts into place, the metal gleaming in the morning light. These bolts were no ordinary weapons; they were crafted from a dense, heavy metal, so much so that it took two of them to reload each one. But they had trained for this moment, and they moved with the precision of seasoned soldiers.


    One of the young defenders, a boy with a fierce determination in his eyes, placed his hand on the bolt, channeling his mana into it. The bolt began to glow, infused with his energy, and he took aim, his focus narrowing to the distant banner holder. With a single, smooth motion, he released the bolt. It flew straight and true, slicing through the air with a deadly whistle. The bolt struck its target¡ªnot the banner carrier himself, but the banner. The force of the impact shattered the banner¡¯s shaft, and the Aegis shield protecting the enemy ranks flickered and died.


    "Damn," the boy muttered, frustration tinging his voice. "I missed."


    "No, you didn¡¯t!" another child exclaimed. "We can hit them with normal bolts now."


    Encouraged, the young defenders quickly reloaded and unleashed a volley of bolts. The air hummed with the sound of their flight, and the bolts found their marks with deadly accuracy. The enemy soldiers, once confident in their invulnerability, began to waver. Fear crept into their ranks as their banner carriers fell one by one, the magical bolts ignoring the Aegis shields and piercing through armor as if it were paper. The formation began to break apart as more and more soldiers fell, their cries of pain and panic filling the air.


    Then, as if fate itself were against them, a bolt struck another banner, shattering it and leaving the group vulnerable. The soldiers hesitated, their steps faltering as they realized their protection was gone. The ballistae continued to fire, each shot a harbinger of death. Comrades fell beside them, and then, from high above, a massive boulder came hurtling down in a wide arc. It crashed into their ranks, scattering the soldiers like leaves in a storm.


    Panic spread like wildfire. The once-disciplined ranks of the enemy began to dissolve into chaos as they scattered, seeking cover from the relentless onslaught. Banner carriers, the lifeblood of their defense, were cut down in droves as the glowing bolts found their marks. Without the protection of the Aegis shields, the soldiers were easy prey for the defenders¡¯ projectiles.


    As the enemy drew closer to the walls, their mages began their assault, raising their wooden staffs and unleashing a barrage of spells. Flames roared to life, swirling into a hurricane of fire, and spears of lightning crackled through the air, all aimed at the defenders. But the town¡¯s banners held firm, their own Aegis shields absorbing the brunt of the magical assault.


    The two forces clashed, their Aegis shields colliding in a brilliant flash of energy. Inside these protective domes, the militia unleashed their own counterattack, pelting the soldiers with stones, arrows, and even explosive pots. The defenders fought with a ferocity born of desperation and the will to protect their homes.


    The worshippers of Vesta, their hearts aflame with the goddess¡¯s blessing, hurled their stones with deadly accuracy. Their slings sent rocks flying through the air with such force that they crushed the helmets of the invaders, felling them where they stood. The soldiers who fell did not rise again, their lifeless bodies littering the battlefield.


    The followers of Vulcan, the god of fire and forge, flung pots of burning oil into the enemy ranks. The flames clung to shields and armor, igniting them with a fire that could not be quenched. Those unfortunate enough to be caught by the flames were consumed, their screams a testament to the grim death that awaited them.


    Juno¡¯s worshippers, the women who had taken up bows, loosed their arrows with precision. Each arrow pierced through the invaders'' armor, striking with the unerring accuracy of divine intervention.


    Yet, the invaders were not without their own blessings. The soldiers, devotees of Mars, felt their god¡¯s strength coursing through their veins. Their muscles bulged with power, their bodies toughened against the onslaught. Even as rocks and fire rained down upon them, they stood firm, their determination unbroken. One soldier, his armor battered and aflame, threw a grappling hook with all his might, the iron claw catching on the wall. With grim resolve, he began to climb, his eyes fixed on the battlements above.


    Arrows from the invaders arced through the sky, forcing the defenders to take cover behind the walls. The mages, now within the Aegis shields, switched to smaller, more controlled spells, aiming to break through the defenders'' ranks without harming their own.


    The battle intensified as the invaders reached the walls, their grappling hooks finding purchase. They began to scale the walls, only to be met by the warrior monks, their faces set in grim determination. With axes and hammers, they struck down the invaders, crushing helmets and skulls with brutal efficiency. Blood splattered across the stone walls as the bodies of the fallen tumbled back to the ground below.


    Losses mounted on both sides, the ground beneath the walls turning red with the blood of the fallen. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, blood, and the acrid tang of magic. The battle raged on, each side fighting with everything they had, knowing that the outcome of this day would determine the fate of the town.


    <hr>


    As the chaotic battle raged on the walls, three misfits slipped away from the intensity, their figures moving stealthily along the farthest edge where the fighting was less fierce. Above them, the sky was a swirling mass of wings, claws, and steel as the aerial battle raged. Occasionally, droplets of blood rained down upon them, but they tried to block out the gruesome reality of it all, focusing instead on their mission.


    Hyakinthos, with his large bag slung over his shoulder, trailed behind his siblings. He frequently reached into the bag, pulling out food to satisfy his voracious appetite. Artemis and Apollo, aware of their brother''s unique condition¡ªhis immense strength tempered by an equally immense hunger¡ªkept silent. They knew that judging him for something beyond his control would be pointless. Hyakinthos, after all, was a force to be reckoned with, his power multiplied tenfold, though at the cost of needing to consume food as though he were feeding ten men.


    They moved swiftly, their forms darting from tree to tree, using the cover of the ever-resting forest to remain hidden. The enemy''s attention was fully on the walls, their forces committed to breaking the siege once and for all. The misfits had chosen their moment well.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Apollo climbed up a tall tree, bow in hand, and began surveying the enemy trenches below. His keen eyes traced the paths of the wounded as they were carried into underground tents. His mind raced, trying to locate where the enemy stored their food supplies, but there was no sign of it. The realization struck him: the reason for this all-out assault was likely desperation¡ªApollo and Artemis¡¯s previous attack must have destroyed the enemy''s provisions.


    From his vantage point, Apollo watched the trenches, seeing the wounded disappear into the earth. Then, among the chaos, he spotted a figure that stood out from the rest. A man clad in the most brilliant plate armor, shining even amidst the blood and dirt of the battlefield. Apollo¡¯s breath caught in his throat. This was no ordinary soldier; this was the enemy¡¯s leader.


    Apollo¡¯s grip tightened around his bow. His heart pounded in his chest as he focused on the man below. This shot could end the siege. It could cripple the enemy''s command and save countless lives. But with that thought came a wave of pain, not just physical but emotional. He gritted his teeth as he summoned his gift, Solaris, the power that made him glow like the sun itself. The pain was excruciating, searing through his veins like molten fire. He bit down on his lip, tasting blood, but forced himself to endure.


    He only had one shot. It had to be perfect.


    As he aimed, thoughts of Pacificus flooded his mind. He remembered his mentor''s strength, his unwavering respect for life, his belief that true kindness could only come from those with the power to choose it. If only Apollo were stronger, perhaps he could have found a way to subdue the enemy leader without taking his life. Perhaps he could have negotiated, forced a stalemate, and found some way to spare everyone. But Apollo was not strong enough¡ªnot yet. And now, here he was, preparing to end a life in the hopes of saving others.


    One life for his family. One life for his home. One life for those he loved.


    His resolve hardened as he focused all his energy into the shot. His form grew brighter, glowing with the intensity of a second sun being born on that battlefield. Artemis and Hyakinthos watched him with anxious faces, their worry palpable, but they knew they could do nothing to stop him.


    Apollo¡¯s lips trembled as he fought back a scream of pain. The arrow in his bow glowed brighter and brighter, a beacon of pure power, far surpassing the light he had summoned when using the ballista. The agony was overwhelming, and he could feel his consciousness slipping away. But just before he succumbed to the darkness, he released the bowstring, sending the arrow hurtling through the air, and collapsed, unconscious.


    Hyakinthos, reacting with the speed and strength that were his gifts, caught Apollo in his arms as he fell. Artemis was there in an instant, her heart pounding in fear for her brother. Together, they cradled him, their eyes flicking between his still form and the arrow now flying towards its target.


    The arrow flew with blinding speed, a streak of light against the darkening sky. There were no banners left to protect the enemy leader; they had all been deployed at the walls with the soldiers. The man in the brilliant armor looked up just in time to see the glowing arrow descending upon him. His eyes widened in terror, realizing too late that this was not just any arrow¡ªit was a death sentence


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    The man tried to leap away, his instincts screaming at him to move, but it was too late. The glowing arrow struck his shoulder with the force of a thunderbolt, sending him spinning through the air. His world became a dizzying blur of sky and earth, his once-proud golden armor shattering under the impact. The yellow tabard adorned with the gryphon, the symbol of his might, was torn to tatters, fluttering like a defeated banner as he tumbled to the ground.


    He hit the earth hard, his body skidding to a halt amidst the dust and debris. For a moment, all he could register was the dull roar in his ears, the disorienting whirl of his surroundings. But then the pain came, sharp and searing, ripping through his body with a ferocity that made him gasp. His vision swam, and as he struggled to focus, he felt an odd sensation¡ªa lightness, an emptiness where there shouldn¡¯t be.


    His gaze dropped to the ground beside him, and there it was: an armored arm, mangled and lifeless, severed from his body. It was his arm, the ornate plates of gold and silver unmistakable. The sight drove a spike of terror through his chest, followed quickly by a wave of despair so profound it nearly crushed him. His vision blurred, tears of pain and fury filling his eyes, but the reality of his situation was undeniable.


    The scream that tore from his throat was one of pure anguish, a primal roar that echoed across the battlefield. It was a sound filled with the agony of loss¡ªnot just of his limb, but of his pride, his power, the very symbol of his command. He clutched the stump of his arm, blood pouring from the wound as he struggled to stay conscious, his breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.


    "MY LORD!" his guards cried out, rushing to his side, their faces masks of horror and concern.


    But the man barely heard them. His mind was consumed by a white-hot rage, a fury that blotted out everything else. The pain was overwhelming, but it was nothing compared to the fire burning in his soul. They had dared to strike him down, to challenge his authority, his very existence. And for that, they would pay.


    With his remaining hand, he fumbled for his sword, his fingers trembling as he wrapped them around the hilt. The blade felt heavy in his grip, but he forced himself to lift it, pointing it shakily towards the trees from which the arrow had come.


    "Kill them!" he bellowed, his voice hoarse but filled with raw, unrelenting hatred. "Kill them! They are in the trees! Kill them!"


    His command was met with immediate action. Six of his guards, dressed in the most regal armor, sprang into motion. Their movements were swift, almost inhumanly so, as they charged towards the trees with a single-minded determination. They were his elite, his personal guard, and they would not fail him now.


    But as they sprinted away, the man remained where he was, slumped against the earth. The pain was overwhelming, but it was the humiliation that cut the deepest. He had been brought low, made vulnerable in front of his men, and the thought was unbearable. His vision blurred again, but this time it wasn¡¯t just from the pain. It was from the bitter taste of defeat, a defeat that was more crushing than any physical wound.


    Yet even in his despair, one thought burned brighter than all the rest: he would have his revenge. They would suffer for what they had done to him. He would make sure of it, even if it was the last thing he did.


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    Artemis and Hyakinthos fled in desperate haste, the weight of the unconscious Apollo on Hyakinthos''s back slowing their frantic escape. Artemis''s voice, strained with urgency, cut through the tense air. "Haya, let''s run towards the Ever Resting Forest."


    "What? Are you crazy, Arty?" Hyakinthos''s voice trembled with fear, but there was no time for doubt.


    "Trust me, Haya! Let''s go¡ªthey must have seen us and are sending people to kill us! LET''S GO!"


    The children bolted, terror giving wings to their feet as they sprinted towards the ominous shadow of the Ever Resting Forest. Every second was a battle against their own bodies, the hours of running stretching into an agonizing eternity for Artemis. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, each beat a frantic reminder of the danger closing in.


    From behind, the chilling shouts of armored men echoed, growing louder with each passing moment. "THERE THEY ARE!" The voice, cold and merciless, sent a jolt of fear through Artemis¡¯s spine.


    "They saw us, Arty!" Hyakinthos''s voice cracked with panic.


    "RUN, HAYA, RUN!" Artemis screamed, pushing her legs to move faster, but her body betrayed her. The daylight sapped her strength, her sides ached as if they were being torn apart. Her breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps. Every step was a struggle, her legs trembling, muscles burning with a searing pain that made her want to scream.


    Hyakinthos surged ahead, Apollo still slumped over his back, his speed driven by the sheer terror of the pursuit. But Artemis was faltering, her vision blurring as exhaustion took hold. She stumbled, her body crumpling to the ground as despair crashed over her. She could feel death¡¯s cold shadow creeping closer, her fate sealed by her own weakness. Tears welled up in her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat. "No," she whispered through gritted teeth, each word a plea to the universe. "I don¡¯t want to die like this."


    But then, something shifted¡ªa force, raw and powerful, surged through her. Before she could comprehend what was happening, she was yanked from the ground, lifted into the air by a gust of wind. It wasn¡¯t the wind, though¡ªit was Hyakinthos, his strength multiplied in his desperate need to save them. The world blurred around them as he carried both her and Apollo, his speed inhuman, fueled by a fear so intense it twisted reality.


    The forest loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, a place of nightmares. But behind them, the nightmare was all too real. The elite soldiers were closing in, their footsteps pounding like the drums of death. Artemis could hear them, could feel their breath on the back of her neck. The trees of the Ever Resting Forest seemed to stretch out their branches, waiting to swallow them whole, to pull them into the abyss where no one returned.


    Hyakinthos¡¯s breath came in harsh, ragged gasps, his strength waning under the burden of carrying his siblings. But he didn¡¯t slow down, didn¡¯t falter, even as the soldiers¡¯ shouts grew louder, more frantic, more bloodthirsty.


    Artemis clung to her brother, the terror gripping her heart like a vice. The forest was their only hope, but it was also a place where hope died. They were running from one horror into another, and she could feel the darkness closing in on all sides. The soldiers were relentless, their pursuit a promise of death. But Hyakinthos didn¡¯t stop. He couldn¡¯t.


    The forest¡¯s edge was just ahead, a line between the world of the living and the unknown. As they plunged into the shadow of the trees, the soldiers'' cries faded into the background, swallowed by the dense, oppressive silence of the Ever Resting Forest. But even here, in the depths of the forest, the sense of being hunted didn¡¯t leave them. The fear lingered, thick and suffocating, as if the forest itself was alive, watching, waiting for its moment to strike.


    Even as they entered the forest, Hyakinthos did not dare slow down. His legs burned with exhaustion, his breaths coming in desperate, ragged gasps, but the fear gnawing at his mind kept him moving. The Ever Resting Forest was no sanctuary¡ªit was a place where nightmares dwelled, and yet it was their only chance.


    The elite soldiers halted at the forest¡¯s edge, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of the towering trees. These trees were ancient, their trunks so vast they seemed to pierce the heavens, their tops lost in the clouds far above. The very air in the forest was thick and oppressive, heavy with the weight of countless forgotten souls.


    "Orders are orders," one knight muttered, his voice tense as he charged into the forest with blinding speed, the others following close behind, their armor clinking ominously.


    Hyakinthos¡¯s strength was fading. He stumbled into a dense thicket, his body trembling with the effort of carrying Apollo¡¯s unconscious form. With Artemis¡¯s urgent whisper in his ear, he crouched low, hiding beneath the thick canopy of bushes. The silence in the forest was unnatural, so complete it felt like a living thing, pressing down on them from all sides. Hyakinthos felt like an insect beneath the gaze of some unseen predator, his heart pounding so loudly he feared it would give them away.


    As he tried to catch his breath, a wave of paralyzing fear washed over him. Through the foliage, he saw them¡ªsix armored figures, their weapons drawn, moving with deadly purpose. They were close, so close that he could hear the leather of their boots creaking with each step. The knights scanned the area with cold, calculating eyes, their movements deliberate and predatory.


    Artemis, lying beside him, pressed her hand tightly over her mouth, stifling the scream that threatened to escape. Her eyes were wide with terror, her body trembling as she fought to stay silent.


    "Where are they?" one of the men growled, his voice low and filled with menace.


    "Look around," another ordered. "Stab and crush every bush you see."


    A collective sigh of frustration passed through the group as they turned their attention to the undergrowth. "All right," one of them muttered darkly.


    With a savage swing, one of the knights brought his great axe crashing down into the foliage. The force of the blow sent a shockwave rippling through the ground, the sound of splintering wood echoing through the forest. Again and again, the knights hacked at the bushes, each swing methodical, merciless, their weapons cleaving through the thick vegetation as if it were paper.


    Hyakinthos and Artemis lay as still as corpses, their bodies pressed flat against the cold, damp earth. The thick bushes concealed them, but barely. Hyakinthos¡¯s heart raced with such ferocity it felt like it would burst from his chest. He watched in horror as the armored boots of one of the knights drew nearer, the great axe raised high, ready to obliterate everything in its path.


    The world seemed to slow, every sound amplified in the oppressive silence of the forest. The knight¡¯s boot crunched against the fallen leaves, and the blade of the axe began its descent. Hyakinthos squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable, the finality of that crushing blow.


    But then, just as the axe was about to strike, the forest itself seemed to react. A gut-wrenching scream tore through the air, its sound so primal, so filled with agony and terror, that it sent a shiver down the spines of even the most hardened warriors. The scream reverberated through the forest, echoing off the ancient trees, filling the space with an overwhelming sense of dread.


    The knight froze mid-swing, his grip tightening on the handle of his weapon. The scream was unlike anything he had ever heard, a sound that seemed to come from the very depths of the forest, from something not entirely human. The other knights stopped as well, their eyes wide with fear, the oppressive silence broken by the lingering echoes of that horrific cry.


    Hyakinthos and Artemis remained motionless, their terror magnified tenfold. Whatever had made that sound, whatever lurked in the shadows of the Ever Resting Forest, was far worse than the soldiers hunting them. The forest, it seemed, had its own way of dealing with intruders.


    Beneath the bushes, shadowy figures stirred¡ªcreatures the size of men, their bodies covered in sleek feathers that seemed to drink in the dim light of the forest. They moved with unnerving silence, their long arms and tails trailing behind them, sharp claws glinting ominously. Their feet ended in sickle-like talons, curved and wickedly sharp, perfect for tearing through flesh and bone. The air around them was thick with the stench of blood and decay, and it was clear that these creatures were not alone.


    One of the soldiers, his senses heightened by fear, spotted the movement too late. With a snarl, he swung his great axe at the nearest creature, aiming to cleave it in two. But the beast was too quick, its lithe body twisting effortlessly out of harm¡¯s way. Before the soldier could react, another of the creatures leapt from the shadows behind him, knocking him off his feet with terrifying force. The man hit the ground with a heavy thud, the breath knocked out of him, but there was no time to recover.


    With a fluid motion, the creature''s sickle-like claw plunged into the soldier¡¯s back, piercing through his armor as if it were nothing more than paper. The man¡¯s scream was raw, filled with pain and terror, a sound that sent chills down the spines of his comrades.


    But the creature wasn¡¯t done. Its clawed foot dragged across the soldier¡¯s body, the screech of metal tearing under the pressure reverberating through the forest, followed by the sickening crunch of flesh and bone being torn apart. The man¡¯s scream rose in pitch, a blood-curdling wail of agony that echoed through the trees, making the air seem even colder, even darker.


    The other soldiers, their faces pale with fear, rushed to their fallen comrade, their weapons drawn, but the beasts were ready. The creature that had attacked first grabbed hold of the man¡¯s armored arms, its claws digging into the metal, and with surprising strength, it began to drag him into the underbrush. The soldier¡¯s screams grew more desperate, his pleas for help tearing at the hearts of those who heard them. But his comrades could only watch in horror as the shadows swallowed him whole, his form disappearing into the thick, tangled foliage, his screams abruptly silenced.


    The soldiers hesitated, their eyes wide with fear as they scanned the darkness, their breath quick and shallow. They had witnessed the unimaginable¡ªtheir comrade taken in the blink of an eye, his life snuffed out by something far more terrifying than any enemy they had faced before.


    Hyakinthos and Artemis seized the opportunity. Moving with agonizing slowness, they began to crawl away, Hyakinthos dragging the unconscious Apollo behind him. Every movement was a battle against the thick underbrush, the rustle of leaves and the snap of twigs sounding deafening in their ears. They moved inch by inch, praying that the soldiers wouldn¡¯t hear them, that the creatures wouldn¡¯t sense their presence.


    The tension was unbearable, the air thick with the scent of blood and fear. The forest seemed to close in around them, every shadow a potential threat, every sound a harbinger of doom. Hyakinthos could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears as he inched forward, his muscles screaming with the effort of moving so slowly, so silently.


    But they had no choice. To be seen was to die, and they had already come too close to that fate. So they crawled, their bodies pressed low to the ground, praying that they would not become the next victims of the forest¡¯s wrath.


    And indeed, the wrath of the Ever Resting Forest was far from over. As if the ancient woods themselves had taken offense at the destruction of their sacred undergrowth, more of the nightmarish creatures began to emerge from the foliage. They came in a startling array of colors¡ªsome cloaked in dark greens and browns, perfect for blending into the shadows, while others were strikingly vibrant, their feathers flashing with reds, blues, and yellows as they slithered out of the underbrush. These beasts eyed the five elite soldiers not with fear or even caution but with a cold, predatory hunger. To them, the armored knights were nothing more than prey¡ªfood to be hunted, consumed, and forgotten.


    The five soldiers instinctively formed a tight circle, their backs pressed together, their massive axes gripped tightly in their hands. The cold metal of their armor felt suddenly flimsy, like paper in the face of these relentless, calculating predators. The creatures circled them, their growls low and mocking, sounding almost like cruel laughter in the eerie silence of the forest. It was as if the beasts were taunting them, relishing in the fear they could smell radiating from the humans.


    One of the creatures darted forward, a blur of color and sinew, and the knight closest to it swung his axe with all his might. But the beast was too fast, dodging the blow with effortless grace. Another beast followed suit, testing the knights'' defenses, its movements fluid and precise. Again, the knight swung his weapon, and again, the creature evaded him with ease.


    Fear clawed at the hearts of the soldiers. It wasn¡¯t just the memory of their comrade¡¯s gruesome death that haunted them; it was the sheer malice in the creatures¡¯ eyes. Those eyes¡ªthey stared at the knights with a cruel intelligence, assessing, calculating, looking for the slightest sign of weakness. It was clear that these beasts were not simply hunting for sport. They were toying with the knights, testing their every move, savoring the anticipation of the kill. And behind those predatory eyes, the knights saw something even more terrifying: an utter lack of fear. The beasts saw them as nothing more than an easy meal, a snack to be enjoyed before moving on to the next prey.


    Amidst this terror, the three children¡ªHyakinthos, Artemis, and the unconscious Apollo¡ªcontinued their desperate crawl through the underbrush. Each movement was slow, deliberate, and silent, their hearts pounding in unison with the ever-present dread that one wrong move would be their last. The sounds of battle and the horrifying growls of the creatures grew fainter as they inched farther away, the dense foliage gradually thinning around them.


    When they finally reached the edge of the forest, it felt as if an unseen force had guided their steps, protecting them from the horrors that lurked within. The towering, ancient trees of the Ever Resting Forest loomed behind them, majestic and forbidding, their massive trunks disappearing into the misty sky above.


    Artemis, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and reverence, whispered a prayer, "Thank you, Gaia. Thank you, Thanatos."


    Hyakinthos, still catching his breath, echoed her words. "Thank you. I promise, I''ll protect this forest the same way it protected me."


    With one last glance at the trees, the two children turned and began their journey back to their hometown, their hearts filled with gratitude¡ªand a new, profound respect for the ancient, mysterious forest that had spared their lives.

 Chapter 22: The Sally

    As the dust of battle settled and the last echoes of the clashing swords faded, the attackers began their retreat. The defenders, battered but resilient, erupted into cheers, their voices a mixture of relief and triumph. The enemy was retreating, pulling back from the walls that had held against their relentless assault.


    But as the old man, a seasoned commander with eyes hardened by years of war, watched the enemy withdraw, his heart did not lift with the same joy as the others. Instead, a scowl deepened the lines on his face. He observed the retreat with a critical eye, noting the precision, the discipline. It was no panicked flight; it was an organized, deliberate withdrawal. "Tsk," he clicked his tongue in frustration. "They''ve finally come to their senses."


    His gaze swept over the battlefield, now littered with the fallen¡ªfriend and foe alike. The ground was a grim tapestry of blood, shattered armor, and broken weapons. "Collect the dead and their weapons and armor," he ordered, his voice stern but weary. "The siege isn''t over... Take all of the wounded to the healers. Good job, everyone. You have fought with bravery... be proud."


    The defenders moved swiftly to follow his commands, their earlier cheers now replaced with somber silence. As they began to gather the bodies, the atmosphere grew heavy with grief. The sight of familiar faces¡ªfriends, siblings, and, heartbreakingly, many children¡ªlying lifeless among the carnage was almost too much to bear. Faces that had once been full of life and laughter were now still, their futures stolen by the cruel hand of war.


    Tears flowed freely as mothers, and comrades knelt beside the fallen. Some wept openly, their sobs piercing the still air, while others stood in silent, stunned grief, unable to comprehend the loss. The sight of the young¡ªthose who had been so full of promise, now reduced to cold, lifeless bodies¡ªwas particularly harrowing.


    The old man, his heart heavy with the weight of so many lost lives, turned to one of the warrior monks, a devoted follower of Juno, the goddess of marriage and childbirth. "Bury them with full honors," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.


    The monk, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears, bowed her head. "Yes, my lord," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.


    The old man hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on the bodies of those from the commoner¡¯s district, whose sacrifices had been just as great. "All of them," he added softly. "Including the commoners."


    The monk looked up, surprised by the order. It was uncommon for those of lower status to be given the same honors as the nobility. But the old man¡¯s eyes were resolute, his command firm. "...As you wish, my lord," the monk finally said, her voice filled with respect.


    As the old man watched the retreating forces disappear into the distance, a gnawing sense of unease settled in his gut. Something about this retreat didn¡¯t sit right with him. He ran the battle over and over in his mind, analyzing every detail. They still had the numbers and the strength to continue. Yes, they had suffered losses, but so had his own forces¡ªperhaps even more so. Despite the casualties, the enemy¡¯s losses were still within acceptable limits for a siege of this scale.


    So why had they retreated? The question hung in his mind like a dark cloud, refusing to be dismissed. Was it a feint? A prelude to a more devastating attack? Or was there something else at play¡ªsomething he couldn¡¯t yet see? Whatever the reason, he knew one thing for certain: the battle was far from over.


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    At the top, Hyakinthos reached out with slender, elegant hands, gently pulling Artemis up after him. Her small fingers slipped into his as he effortlessly lifted her to safety. Around them, defenders stood victorious, their fists raised high in the air, cheers of triumph ringing out as the enemy retreated in disarray.


    Apollo stirred, his eyelids fluttering open to the sight of the pale sky above. His voice, weak but filled with curiosity, broke the silence. "What happened?" he asked, blinking away the haze of unconsciousness.


    "You fainted after releasing that arrow," Artemis replied, her tone a mix of relief and gentle teasing, her eyes reflecting concern for her brother.


    "Oh... oh right... D-Did I hit him?" Apollo¡¯s expression shifted to one of anxiety, his eyes widening with hope and worry.


    Artemis shook her head slightly, her expression soft and unreadable. "I don¡¯t know," she said quietly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.


    Hyakinthos, his voice as light and graceful as his appearance, chimed in. "But we certainly caught their attention," he said with a soft smile, the corners of his lips turning upward in a way that highlighted the softness of his features. "We were chased by knights¡­ and we only escaped by hiding in the Ever Resting Forest."


    Apollo¡¯s eyes grew wide with shock, his breath catching in his throat. "WHAT?!" he exclaimed, his voice hoarse with disbelief. "I¡¯ve been knocked out for that long?"


    "Pretty much, yes," Artemis responded with a small, reassuring smile, her voice carrying a warmth that eased his panic.


    Apollo sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he looked at his siblings with guilt weighing heavily on him. "I¡¯m sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with remorse. "I put you both in danger."


    Artemis placed a comforting hand on his arm, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Don¡¯t mention it, bro," she said, her smile full of warmth, her eyes shimmering with affection.


    Hyakinthos chuckled softly, his laughter as delicate as the rest of him, carrying a sense of lightness that brought comfort to the moment. "We all made it out alive, didn¡¯t we?" he said, his voice soothing and filled with quiet confidence, his presence calming as a gentle breeze.


    "Oh really?"


    The voice, stern and unmistakably familiar, cut through the air like a blade. The three children paled as its tone reached their ears. They turned in unison, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and guilt.


    There, standing before them, was a woman clad in gleaming plate armor adorned with the blue and green robes of Juno. Her presence was commanding, and she was perched atop a magnificent bird¡ªmajestic and regal, its feathers shimmering with a quiet power. The bird''s wings flapped gently, yet soundlessly, a testament to its silent grace. It was as if it had materialized out of thin air, adding to the children''s sense of dread.


    "M-mother?" Hyakinthos stammered, his voice trembling as he took in the imposing figure of Augusta, his adopted mother.


    "Haya," Augusta replied, her tone unyielding as she dismounted from her steed with a fluid motion, her boots hitting the ground with a decisive thud. She approached them with an air of authority, her gaze fixed on the three children who stood rooted in place. Her eyes were sharp, piercing through any attempts at deception.


    "You three have some explaining to do," she said, her voice cool and controlled, though laced with an undercurrent of frustration.


    "M-mother Augusta¡­ wh-what do you mean?" Hyakinthos tried to deflect, his voice wavering as he struggled to maintain composure.


    Augusta¡¯s gaze narrowed, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features. "Don¡¯t pretend to be dumb in front of me, Haya," she said, her voice taking on a steely edge. "Now explain. What did you mean by going to the Ever Resting Forest? What did you mean by being chased by enemy knights? And what do you mean by shooting an arrow?"


    Each question was like a hammer falling, her words precise and demanding. Augusta¡¯s presence, combined with the imposing bird standing silently beside her, made the air feel heavy, the children¡¯s hearts pounding in their chests as they faced her unyielding gaze.


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    In the dimly lit underground bunker, the air was thick with tension. A man, pale and trembling with pain, bit down hard on a soft, fine cloth that barely muffled his anguished screams. Surrounding him were a group of apothecaries, each focused and intent on their tasks. Two of them worked in tandem, their hands glowing faintly as they channeled healing magic into his ravaged body. Another scoured through a collection of vials, selecting potions with practiced precision. The eldest apothecary, his face lined with age and experience, was clearly in charge, directing the operation with a calm, steady hand. The final apothecary, younger and tense, clutched a piece of wood shaped eerily like an arm, ready to serve as a replacement for the limb that had been lost.


    Around the man, warriors stood like statues, their faces grim as they held him down, ensuring that his body remained still despite the unbearable pain. The man¡¯s screams, though muffled by the cloth, echoed off the wooden walls of the chamber, filling the space with a haunting, desperate sound. His arm, or what remained of it, was an open wound, raw and exposed. The head apothecary worked methodically, stitching the wound with careful precision, connecting it to the wooden limb as if it were a natural extension of the man¡¯s body.


    "Hold him steady," the old apothecary instructed, his voice calm and detached. "He must remain conscious, or the arm will be useless."


    The warriors obeyed, tightening their grip on the thrashing noble, their own faces a mask of determination. The man¡¯s screams grew louder, the pain clearly overwhelming, but they did not falter.


    The hours dragged on, each one filled with agony for the nobleman. His screams were a constant presence, a raw expression of the torment he was enduring. But the apothecaries did not waver, continuing their work with relentless focus.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the operation was complete. The man, now drenched in sweat and shaking from exhaustion, stood up slowly. His new arm, made of wood, was attached to his body, the skin around the connection still raw and red. He stared at the limb in disbelief, moving it cautiously at first. His fingers flexed, then curled into a fist. He swung the arm experimentally, punching the air with a force that seemed to surprise even him.


    The head apothecary, now wiping his brow with a weary hand, approached the man. "My lord," he said, his voice softening slightly. "You must drink these vials daily. They will help with the numbness and the inevitable itching. If you experience any complications¡­ please do not hesitate to call for me."


    The man, his attention still on the intricacies of his newly attached wooden arm, nodded absently at the apothecary¡¯s parting words. The apothecaries, having completed their task, quietly gathered their tools and left the chamber, the door closing with a soft thud behind them. The man was left alone, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows across the walls, highlighting the strange juxtaposition of his flesh and the unnatural limb now attached to his body. The wooden arm, intricately carved and glowing faintly with embedded runes, moved with an unsettling precision as he flexed his fingers, testing its responsiveness. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of his thoughts and the lingering pain that still radiated from the wound.


    He turned his gaze to the warriors who had been silently waiting, their heads bowed low in deference. The man¡¯s eyes narrowed as he observed them, his expression hardening. Among them, one stood out¡ªa knight dressed in golden armor, similar to the man¡¯s former glory, though lacking the same splendor to signify his lower rank.


    "There are seven of you," the man spoke, his voice cold and commanding. "Where are the other six?"


    The knight, visibly tense, hesitated before meeting his lord¡¯s piercing gaze. "They¡­ they entered the Ever Resting Forest, my Lord. They still haven¡¯t returned."


    The man¡¯s jaw tightened, his patience thinning as he processed the knight¡¯s words. "Why did they go to the Ever Resting Forest, Knight Champion?"


    The knight swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes. "To avenge you, my Lord."


    For a moment, the man was silent, the only sound in the room the faint crackling of the torches on the walls. His rage, carefully restrained, began to seep through, an almost tangible force that caused the air around him to grow thick and oppressive. His wooden arm, now a living conduit for his anger, began to glow with a menacing red light, the runes etched into its surface flaring to life.


    "Where are the other generals?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.


    The knight hesitated again, his voice trembling as he finally spoke. "General Gregor¡­ he fell in the last siege, my Lord. He was killed in a duel with the enemy general, the one clad in the red armor of Mars."


    The man¡¯s eyes darkened further, but he remained silent as the knight continued.


    "General Dominus is missing in action. The last we saw, he was with his gryphon, both of them falling towards the enemy town."


    "And General Brutus?" the man demanded, his tone growing sharper.


    "Killed in action, my Lord. He fell on the walls, slain by a sword champion."


    The man closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, his chest rising and falling as he wrestled with the storm of emotions within him. His resolve hardened as he opened his eyes again, the red glow from his wooden arm casting a sinister light on his face. "We will attack tonight. With everything we have. Leave nothing behind."


    "Yes, my Lord," the knight replied, bowing deeply before retreating to carry out the orders.


    The trenches outside the bunker came alive with activity as soldiers scrambled to prepare for the upcoming assault. The man, now left alone once more, walked to his quarters, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The room was sparsely furnished, its only decoration a brilliant carpet upon which a magic circle was embedded. He approached a crystal ball sitting on a pedestal, its surface smooth and cold under his touch. Channeling his mana into it, the crystal began to glow with an otherworldly light.


    Kneeling on the carpet, he focused on the ball, his mind reaching out through the arcane connection. Minutes passed, each one dragging on as though it were an hour, until finally, the image of a man appeared before him¡ªhis king. The figure wore a suit of armor far more ornate than anything the man could afford, his bald head gleaming, and his brown beard neatly trimmed. The king¡¯s green eyes were sharp, penetrating through the magical connection as if he could see directly into the man¡¯s soul.


    "Speak," the king commanded, his voice authoritative and brooking no nonsense.


    "King Barca, I have something to report," the man began, trying to maintain his composure.


    The king¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed something amiss. "What happened to your arm?"


    The man flinched, instinctively drawing his wooden arm closer to his side, though it was already hidden beneath his new armor¡ªa set far less splendid than the one he had once worn, but enough to conceal his loss. "I¡­ lost it during the siege, my King."


    "I see," the king replied, his voice betraying no emotion. "I assume the siege on your front isn¡¯t progressing well?"


    "N-no, my Lord," the man stammered, shame creeping into his voice.


    "And was it because of the monster of the Forest?"


    "I¡­ I believe so, my King," the man hesitated, uncertainty lacing his words.


    "You believe?" the king pressed, his tone growing more severe. "What makes you hesitate, young Lord?"


    The man swallowed hard, his throat dry. "The monster¡­ it has killed six of the champions you entrusted to me, my King."


    The king raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. "And how did this monster accomplish such a feat?"


    "He shot me with an arrow¡ªan arrow so fast and powerful that it took my arm. The monster has been harassing our camp day and night with explosive magic, ruining our supplies and killing my men."


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    For a moment, the king was silent, his expression unreadable. The tension in the air grew, the man feeling as though the king¡¯s eyes were boring into him, weighing his worth.


    Finally, the king spoke, his voice measured. "That is not the monster of the Forest."


    "My King?" the man replied, confusion and dread gnawing at him.


    "The monster of the Forest is a swordsman," the king explained, his tone calm but firm. "He wields the same blade as the mad swordswoman from the south. I have faced him before¡ªhe stopped my entire army with his sword, and his sword alone. No, what you faced was not the monster of the Ever Resting Forest, but a brilliant mage who resides in the town."


    The man¡¯s heart sank further as the weight of his failure pressed down on him. "Y-yes, my King."


    The king¡¯s gaze softened slightly, though his words remained sharp. "Attack or retreat, the choice is yours, young Lord. But remember, our goal is their capital¡ªnot a small river town near the Ever Resting Forest."


    "Yes, my King," the man replied, his voice barely above a whisper.


    "Good," the king nodded, his image beginning to fade. "I leave the fate of the town in your hands, young Lord Rowan. But heed my warning¡ªyour men are ready to kill and pillage, so do not expect mercy when you are unwilling to extend it. To have the will to kill is to accept the will to die. Ignore it at your peril."


    "I will heed your advice, my King," Rowan said, bowing his head in respect.


    With a final nod, the king¡¯s image disappeared, leaving Rowan alone in the dimly lit chamber, the weight of his decisions pressing heavily upon him.


    <hr>


    The night sky was a canvas of deep indigo, dotted with stars that twinkled like distant, indifferent eyes. Through this dark expanse, a griffin soared with powerful wingbeats, its majestic form cutting through the night with silent grace. Its feathers, a rich blend of crimson and gold, glinted in the pale moonlight, matching the red armor that encased its massive frame. Perched upon its back, three figures rode with purpose: the first, an old man clad in battle-worn red armor that shimmered like blood in the moonlight; the other two, children, dwarfed by the oversized chain mail and helmets they wore, their eyes wide with the gravity of the moment.


    Below them, the ground unfurled like a shadowed tapestry, the trenches and figures of both friend and foe reduced to mere patterns in the earth. Artemis, her youthful face framed by a helmet too large for her, peered over the edge of the griffin''s saddle. Her keen eyes, gifted with unnatural sharpness, pierced the darkness, discerning every minute detail of the battlefield beneath them. She could see the anxious faces of the men, the glint of their unsheathed swords, and the subtle movements of their preparations.


    Apollo, seated beside her, was lost in thought, his mind racing as he contemplated the precarious situation they found themselves in. The chain mail he wore, though cumbersome, felt like a heavy reminder of the responsibility they had taken on. His brow furrowed beneath his helmet as he recalled how they had arrived at this point.


    It had all begun when they had confessed their reckless actions to Augusta. At first, she had been furious, her voice sharp with anger as she scolded them for their foolhardiness. But then, she had taken them to report to the only man in town who could make sense of their exploits¡ªa retired general, Marcus Aemilius Barbola. The old warrior had listened to Augusta''s account with raised eyebrows, his stern face gradually softening into a sinister smile as he studied the children.


    "I see potential," he had said, his voice carrying a weight of authority that was impossible to ignore.


    And so, that very night, they had found themselves in the sky, riding with the old general atop his mighty steed, the town¡¯s sole griffin. Hyakinthos, meanwhile, rode with Augusta on a brilliant giant bird, its feathers a dazzling array of blue and green, matching the colors of Juno¡¯s robes that Augusta wore.


    As they flew, Artemis could feel the cool night air whipping against her face, her senses heightened by the earring she now wore¡ªa small, unassuming piece of jewelry that matched those worn by the monks of Juno, and even by the old general himself. The earring was more than an accessory; it was a tool, enhancing her already formidable eyesight, allowing her to serve as the general¡¯s eyes in the sky.


    "Artemis, tell me everything you see," General Barbola''s voice cut through the wind, calm but commanding.


    "Umm, ah¡­ the enemy is arming themselves," she replied, her voice steady despite the tension in her small frame. "They¡¯re donning their armor and equipping their weapons."


    "And our troops?" the general asked, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her words.


    "They¡¯re near, surrounding the trenches," she answered, her gaze never wavering from the ground below.


    The general nodded, satisfied with her report, before addressing the three youths together. "Tell me, young ones¡­ what do you do when you encounter a force that is stronger than you?"


    "You run away," they answered in unison, their voices clear and without hesitation.


    The general let out a cackle, a harsh sound that mingled with the wind as it rushed past them. "That is correct, young ones. But sometimes, we find ourselves backed into a corner, with no choice but to fight. In those moments, we must fight with everything we have. To take a life means to be prepared to lose your own. If you are not willing to do that, then you are not only a hypocrite but also a coward."


    His eyes, sharp and full of a soldier¡¯s resolve, scanned the trenches below, illuminated by the flickering light of campfires. "That is why we must fight. There is no room for honor in war. The only goal in a war is to survive. Artemis¡­ what about their shields?"


    "They¡¯re not activated," she reported, her voice steady. "They¡¯re sitting on the ground, as if they were praying."


    <div>


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    "Ahh, I see¡­ they¡¯re preparing to attack us," the general said with a grim smile, his expression one of grim satisfaction. His eyes gleamed with the cold, calculated light of a man who had seen countless battles and knew the strategies of war like the back of his hand. "Too bad¡­ we will strike first. Mages, do your work. Raise the enemy encampment to the ground."


    The air around them crackled with the gathering of raw magical energy, the mages'' incantations blending with the sounds of the night. The sky, once calm and still, began to churn with an unnatural fury, as if the very heavens were responding to the general¡¯s command. Dark clouds swirled above the enemy encampment, their ominous shapes reflecting the turmoil about to be unleashed.


    The old man then turned his gaze to Apollo, his eyes narrowing as he studied the boy. "You know, young man," he began, his voice carrying the weight of both praise and warning, "you have a brilliant mind for warfare. Attacking the general¡¯s tent, then hitting their supplies while they were still setting up camp, harassing them under cover of night." He allowed himself a small, dark smile. "It was brilliant, young man. Brilliant. My heart shudders just imagining the thoughts that race through that head of yours."


    Apollo, taken aback by the unexpected compliment, stammered, "Ahh¡­ uhmm¡­ thank you, sir?"


    "But," the general continued, his tone hardening as his eyes bore into the boy¡¯s, "you made one big mistake."


    "What is it, sir?" Apollo asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.


    "You don¡¯t fight a war alone," the general said, his voice low and deliberate, each word a heavy truth. "You fight a war with your comrades."


    At that moment, the earth beneath them trembled as a tornado materialized within the heart of the enemy trenches. The roaring wind tore through the encampment, snuffing out fires and sending men screaming into the air like ragdolls caught in a giant''s grip. Tents were ripped from the ground, their fabric snapping in the wind like the wings of frantic birds. The howling storm was only the beginning; a deluge followed, as rain poured from the heavens in sheets, flooding the trenches and turning the earth into a quagmire of mud and despair.


    As if the fury of the storm wasn''t enough, the ground itself rose up in rebellion. The earth groaned and split open, boulders the size of men erupting from the soil, only to be hurled like missiles into the enemy camp. The crushing weight of the stones flattened tents and splintered wooden structures, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake.


    Panic spread through the enemy ranks like wildfire. Soldiers scrambled in disarray, their once-disciplined formations dissolving into chaos. Men clutched at banners, seeking some semblance of order, but their desperate grasps were in vain. Even the sacred Aegis shields, symbols of their invulnerability, offered no protection against the relentless assault. Above the chaos, the sound of ballista bolts cutting through the air echoed ominously. These projectiles, launched by women and children who manned the war machines with grim determination, streaked through the sky, their tips gleaming like deadly comets.


    "They aren''t hitting anything," Artemis observed, her sharp eyes following the trajectory of the bolts. "They¡¯re aiming too high."


    The general, ever vigilant, responded immediately. "Left ballista," he barked, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "Lower your aim! You''re overshooting¡ªbring it down to strike them where they stand."


    As the adjustments were made, the true horror of the assault began to take shape. Enemy riders, desperate to escape the hellish storm that had engulfed them, began to emerge from the chaos, their steeds rearing in panic. But their efforts were futile. The mages, anticipating their move, activated a hailstorm of ice and stone. The air grew colder as the sky unleashed a torrent of razor-sharp hailstones, each one capable of cutting through armor and flesh with ease.


    "Looks like the enemy is going to retaliate with their own magic," the general mused, his voice calm despite the rising tension.


    Indeed, from the depths of the enemy camp, a counterattack was beginning to form. The ground beneath the enemy mages began to glow with an eerie light, the telltale sign of a powerful spell being woven. But the old general was not about to let them gain the upper hand.


    "NOW, WARRIORS, CHARGE!" he roared, his voice filled with the ferocity of a man who had led countless battles.


    At the general''s command, the warrior monks and militia surged forward, their voices rising in a collective roar that echoed across the battlefield. Their battle cries, a fierce symphony of defiance and determination, pierced the night air as they descended upon the beleaguered enemy with unrelenting force. The darkness was shattered by the clang of steel against steel, the anguished cries of men, women, and children alike, and the ceaseless wrath of the storm that raged above them. In this desperate struggle, there would be no quarter given, no honor upheld¡ªonly the raw, brutal reality of survival.


    The enemy forces, though still outnumbering the defenders, were caught completely off guard by the ferocity of the counterattack. They had expected a demoralized, weary group of defenders, perhaps prepared for a last stand behind the walls of their town. Instead, they faced an unyielding onslaught from an unexpected source¡ªa force comprised not of seasoned soldiers but of warrior monks and a militia made up of women and children. The only men among the defenders were the town steward and a single, battle-hardened general, long retired but now called back to the fray. And yet, despite their apparent disadvantages, these defenders fought with a ferocity that belied their numbers and their unconventional composition.


    The enemy soldiers, huddled together under their banners, tried desperately to maintain their formations, but they were met with a torrent of fury. Women clad in armor, wielding spears and axes with grim determination, crashed into their ranks. Children, too, joined the fray, their small hands clutching weapons too large for their frames but wielded with a fervor born of necessity. These were not the helpless civilians the enemy had anticipated; they were fighters, each driven by the will to protect their home, their loved ones, and their very lives.


    Among the defenders, the warrior monks of Juno stood out¡ªa sight both awe-inspiring and terrifying. These women, trained in the arts of combat and guided by their unshakable faith, moved with lethal grace. They rode atop majestic, feathered beasts that soared through the stormy skies, their wings barely stirring the air as they descended upon the enemy. These creatures, neither gryphons nor hippogriffs but something altogether more fearsome, were equipped with sharp, armored talons. With unerring precision, they swooped down, snatching enemy soldiers from the ground, lifting them high into the stormy skies, and releasing them to plummet to their deaths.


    The Aegis shields, once thought to be impenetrable, offered no protection against these aerial assaults. Designed to ward off magic and projectiles, the shields were useless against the physical threat posed by the giant birds. The enemy soldiers watched in horror as their comrades were plucked from their midst, helpless against the onslaught from above. Even the banners¡ªsymbols of their unity and morale¡ªwere not spared. The great birds tore them from the ground, leaving the enemy forces disoriented and demoralized.


    Without their banners to rally around, the enemy''s resolve began to crumble. The mages, sensing the weakness, unleashed a renewed barrage of spells. The very earth beneath the enemy''s feet seemed to betray them, shifting and cracking open to swallow them whole. Fire, ice, and lightning rained down upon them, each spell more devastating than the last. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the tang of blood, the battlefield a hellish landscape of mud, fire, and death.


    The enemy¡¯s own gryphons and hippogriffs, once their pride and strength, were now liabilities. The mages had targeted these noble beasts with ruthless efficiency, pinning them to the ground with powerful spells, rendering them unable to take flight or defend their riders. The once-proud creatures lay writhing in the mud, their wings clipped by the overwhelming magical force that held them in place.


    Amidst the chaos, the enemy soldiers found themselves battling not just for victory, but for their very survival. Their ranks, once orderly and disciplined, were now a disorganized mass of bodies struggling against the relentless assault. They fought hard, driven by a newfound respect and fear for their adversaries¡ªthose they had once dismissed as mere townsfolk were now revealed to be fierce, tenacious warriors.


    As the night deepened and the battle raged on, the enemy forces teetered on the brink of collapse. Their once-proud formations had crumbled into chaos, and their morale was in tatters, shattered by the relentless assault of the defenders. But still, the defenders pressed on, their resolve as unyielding as the storm that raged above them. Every swing of a weapon, every incantation uttered by the mages, was a fierce declaration of their will to survive and protect all they held dear. The defenders fought not just for themselves, but for their families, their town, and their way of life, pouring every ounce of strength and determination into the fight. In this brutal, unforgiving war, the enemy began to understand¡ªthere would be no easy victory here.


    Amid the frenzied combat, certain figures stood out, their presence commanding attention even in the chaos. One such figure was Zephyrus, the champion of Juno. Though smaller in stature compared to his foes, Zephyrus wielded his gift with devastating effect, summoning powerful black tornadoes that tore through the enemy ranks. His mastery of the winds was unparalleled¡ªhe sent his enemies hurtling through the air, their bodies flailing helplessly before crashing to the ground in broken heaps. But it wasn''t just the sheer power of his winds that made him formidable; it was the way he moved. Zephyrus seemed to glide effortlessly across the battlefield, using the wind itself to propel him from one position to another. He was a blur of motion, appearing wherever the defenders needed him most, offering much-needed support with the precision of a seasoned warrior.


    Another figure of note was Iris, the champion of Hera. Her weapon of choice was deceptively simple¡ªpots. But these were no ordinary pots. Each one contained a terrifying substance: a cloud of red spores that spread through the air the moment the pots shattered. The spores were a weapon of biological warfare, their effects both insidious and crippling. As the enemy soldiers inhaled the spores, their bodies betrayed them. They found it suddenly difficult to breathe, their lungs constricting as if grasped by an invisible hand. Their eyes watered uncontrollably, blinding them with tears, while their noses ran in an unending stream of mucus. They sneezed and choked, their strength sapped by the relentless assault on their senses. Iris, an apothecary as much as a warrior, had created these infernal devices, and now, others among the defenders followed her lead, hurling the pots into the midst of the enemy. What had seemed like a harmless object became a source of terror, turning the tide of battle with a cruel efficiency.


    But perhaps the most enigmatic figure on the battlefield was the mysterious swordswoman. Clad in lamellar armor that marked her as a warrior of the South, she moved through the fray with a grace that bordered on the divine. Her armor, unlike anything the enemy had seen before, gleamed under the stormy skies, and her helmet, with its mask, concealed her features entirely, adding to her air of mystery. There was something almost sacred in her bearing, as though she fought under the protection of a deity foreign to these lands.


    The swordswoman wielded two curved scimitars, their blades flashing in the dim light as they cut through the enemy with deadly precision. Her movements were a dance of death, each step calculated, each strike lethal. She did not simply hack at her foes; she struck with purpose, aiming for the weak points in their armor, the gaps that left them vulnerable. Her blades found the slits in helmets, the spaces between plates, and with every swing, an enemy soldier fell. Her fluidity was mesmerizing, a stark contrast to the brutality of her actions. To witness her in battle was to see a master at work, her every motion a blend of lethal skill and almost poetic elegance. She moved through the battlefield like a shadow, silent and deadly, her swords reaping a grim harvest.


    As the battle reached a fever pitch, a new force emerged from the ranks of the enemy¡ªa towering champion clad in gleaming gold armor. His imposing figure was unmistakable, a juggernaut among his peers. The massive axe he wielded, nearly as tall as he was, had the dual function of a halberd, its long blade glinting ominously in the flickering light of the battlefield. With each swing of his weapon, the ground seemed to tremble, and the defenders in his path were swept aside like leaves in a storm. Bodies were flung through the air, their lifeless forms landing with sickening thuds. His presence was like a dark cloud over the battlefield, casting a pall of fear among the ranks of the defenders.


    Amid the chaos, the swordswoman, her eyes narrowing behind the mask of her helmet, locked onto the golden-clad behemoth. She knew that this enemy posed a grave threat, one that could not be allowed to wreak further havoc among her comrades. Without hesitation, she dashed forward, her scimitars held at the ready, their curved blades gleaming with deadly intent.


    The enemy champion noticed her approach, his eyes narrowing behind his visor as he prepared to meet the incoming challenge. With a mighty roar, he swung his massive axe in a wide arc, the force of the blow creating a shockwave that rippled through the air. The swordswoman, agile as ever, evaded the blow with a swift sidestep, the shockwave passing harmlessly by. As the axe cleaved through the air, she darted forward, her movements a blur, and slashed at the back of his thigh where the golden armor left a small, vulnerable gap.


    The champion let out a grunt of pain as the blade bit into flesh, his massive form buckling slightly as the injury forced him to kneel. He barely had time to recover before the swordswoman struck again, this time aiming for his neck¡ªa precise, lethal strike intended to end the duel swiftly. But the enemy champion was not so easily felled. Though the blow connected, it glanced off the thick armor protecting his throat, the force of the strike staggering him but leaving him otherwise unharmed.


    With a growl of fury, the champion retaliated, swinging his axe in a vicious, downward arc. The blade cut through the air with terrifying speed, but once again, it met only emptiness as the swordswoman danced out of range, her movements fluid and graceful. She countered with a flurry of strikes, each aimed at the weak points in his armor¡ªthe joints, the gaps, the places where the metal plates failed to fully protect his massive frame.


    The duel became a deadly dance, a contest of speed and strength. The swordswoman moved like a shadow, her scimitars flashing in and out as she sought to exploit every chink in her opponent''s golden armor. The enemy champion, for all his size and power, found himself struggling to land a decisive blow. His swings, while powerful, were slow and ponderous compared to the lightning-fast strikes of his opponent. He swung his axe with all his might, but each time the blade met only air as the swordswoman weaved around him, always a step ahead, her attacks relentless.


    Yet, despite the growing number of cuts and slashes that marred his armor, the champion fought on, his determination unyielding. He parried her strikes with the haft of his axe, the sound of steel meeting steel ringing out above the din of battle. His strength was formidable, each blow he landed sending shudders through the swordswoman''s arms, but her agility and precision kept her just out of reach of his most devastating attacks.


    Their duel was a fierce and grueling contest, a clash of two formidable warriors, each determined to best the other. The swordswoman''s strategy was clear¡ªwear him down, exploit his weaknesses, and deliver the final, fatal blow. The enemy champion, on the other hand, sought to crush her with sheer force, his every swing intended to end the fight with a single, decisive strike.


    As they circled each other, the tension between them palpable, it became a battle not just of skill, but of endurance and will. Both knew that the slightest mistake could be fatal, and so they fought with everything they had, the world around them fading away as they became locked in their deadly dance.

 Chapter 23: The End of the Big Day

    The enemy forces, though still vastly outnumbering their opponents, found themselves caught in a deadly vice. They were surrounded, their lines ensnared by a well-orchestrated ambush that had thrown them into disarray. Panic spread like wildfire through their ranks as the realization set in: they were trapped.


    Above them, the sky was alight with the fury of the mages, who unleashed a relentless barrage of destructive spells. The ground shook as fireballs, lightning bolts, and shards of ice rained down upon the invaders. Explosions ripped through their formations, tearing apart men and earth alike, while torrents of magical energy swept across the battlefield, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and ozone, the once-organized ranks of the enemy reduced to a chaotic, writhing mass of bodies struggling to survive the onslaught.


    But the true horror descended from the skies, where the noble warrior monks of Juno swooped down on their majestic, armored birds. These formidable creatures, their wings spanning wide and their talons gleaming like sharpened steel, plunged into the fray with deadly precision. The monks, skilled and merciless, directed their mounts with practiced ease, targeting the enemy banners and their bearers with chilling efficiency.


    With swift, lethal strikes, the birds snatched the banners from the hands of their bearers, lifting both fabric and men high into the air. The hapless soldiers, gripped by the armored talons, were hauled skyward, their desperate screams lost in the howling winds. And then, in a horrifying moment of realization, they were released, plummeting back to the earth far below. The impact was bone-shattering, their broken bodies left as grim reminders of the monks'' ruthlessness. The banners, once symbols of protection and unity, fluttered uselessly as they were carried off, leaving the enemy exposed and vulnerable.


    The loss of the banners was catastrophic. These symbols were not just decorative; they were the heart of the enemy''s defense, crucial for maintaining the protective Aegis shields that kept them safe from magical attacks. Without them, the invaders were stripped of their last line of defense. The mages, sensing the vulnerability, redoubled their efforts. With no shields to deflect the onslaught, the enemy was pummeled mercilessly. Spells tore through their ranks with impunity, reducing even the most heavily armored soldiers to ash and cinder.


    But the defenders¡¯ greatest advantage came from the skies.


    High above the battlefield, Artemis perched on the back of a majestic gryphon, her keen eyes piercing the darkness. Despite the night¡¯s deep shadows, she could see every detail of the chaotic battle below as if it were midday. Her heart pounded as she watched the desperate struggle unfold.


    "There is a strong man on the left¡­ he¡¯s killing them! He¡¯s killing them!" she cried out, her voice filled with urgency.


    The old general beside her remained calm, his years of experience allowing him to assess the situation with a steely composure. His earring, a symbol of his command, glowed faintly as he issued his orders with a voice of authority. "Send the blacksmith¡¯s wife to duel the champion," he instructed, his tone steady despite the chaos.


    On the ground, a warrior monk of Juno was coordinating the defense with the precision of a seasoned commander. Unlike her sisters, who fought from the skies, she stood amidst the fray, her round shield and spear a symbol of her unwavering resolve. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the battlefield, searching for any sign of weakness in the enemy''s lines.


    "Kaveh!" she called out, her voice cutting through the din of battle. The child she summoned was a formidable sight, his small frame encased in a lamellar armor so thick it covered him like a protective shell. His helmet, fashioned with a steel plate shaped like a face, gave him an almost otherworldly appearance as he wielded a great hammer with surprising strength. The boy had just smashed through an enemy''s shield, his youthful energy unmatched.


    "Y-yes?" Kaveh responded, breathless but eager, his wide eyes peering through the narrow slits of his helmet.


    "Call your mother! We need her to face the champion on the left. He¡¯s wielding a great axe and is covered in golden armor," she commanded, her voice firm.


    Without hesitation, Kaveh nodded and dashed back through the lines, his heart pounding with urgency. He found his mother, a formidable woman, drinking water from a goatskin, her breath steady and measured despite the turmoil around her.


    "Mother," he called out, his voice tinged with both reverence and urgency. "A champion was spotted on the left. He¡¯s wielding a great axe."


    The woman, a seasoned warrior with a stoic expression, merely nodded in acknowledgment. She was the blacksmith¡¯s wife, known for her skill in both crafting weapons and wielding them with deadly precision. With a swift motion, she drew her sword and closed the visor of her helmet, the faceplate mirroring that of her son¡¯s. The steel visage was cold and impassive, a reflection of her resolve.


    She moved with the grace of a dancer and the precision of a predator, weaving through the throngs of soldiers with deadly intent. Her target was clear¡ªthe enemy champion who had been cutting down her comrades with brutal efficiency. Bodies flew through the air, and the stench of blood and sweat hung heavy in the air as she approached.


    The enemy champion, a hulking figure clad in golden armor, spotted her. His eyes narrowed behind his visor as he swung his massive axe with the force of a battering ram. But the blacksmith¡¯s wife was quicker, her movements a blur as she sidestepped the blow with practiced ease. The axe cleaved through the air where she had stood moments before, but she was already behind him, her sword flashing as it found the vulnerable spot behind his knee.


    A sharp cry of pain erupted from the champion as he fell to one knee, the deep cut in his flesh oozing blood. Every movement sent waves of agony through his body, his strength sapped as he struggled to remain standing.


    "There are men in armor in the middle¡­ they all have fancy armor," Artemis reported from above, her eyes never leaving the battlefield. "They¡¯re being protected by Aegis shields."


    The general¡¯s eyes flickered with recognition. "Send in our best troops to the center," he commanded, his voice unwavering.


    Below, the defenders rallied with every ounce of strength they could muster, their best warriors surging toward the center of the battlefield. But even as they fought with renewed determination, it was clear to Artemis from her vantage point high above that they were struggling. The defenders were a motley assembly of farmers, tailors, blacksmiths¡ªordinary people thrust into extraordinary circumstances. Against the trained and battle-hardened invaders, they were slowly being pushed back, their resolve tested by the relentless assault.


    Artemis¡¯s sharp eyes scanned the chaos below, and her heart clenched as she spotted her grandmother, Leto, in the thick of the battle. Leto was fending off attackers with the grace and skill of a seasoned warrior, but even she was being overwhelmed. Artemis watched in horror as Leto was struck down, her body hitting the ground hard. The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the sounds of battle fading as fear gripped Artemis¡¯s heart. Leto would have been killed if not for the swift intervention of a warrior monk, who dashed to her aid, fending off the attackers with desperate ferocity.


    Anger and desperation surged through Artemis. She drew her bow, the weapon glowing with a brilliant light that cut through the darkness like a beacon. It was as if a new star had been born in the night sky, its radiance casting shadows on the battlefield below.


    Artemis scanned the enemy ranks, her gaze locking onto a soldier in the most ornate armor she could see. The man was surrounded by a protective barrier of Aegis shields, shimmering in the night. But Artemis¡¯s focus was unbreakable, her hands steady as she drew the bowstring back, the arrow glowing even brighter as it prepared to be unleashed.


    Beside her, Apollo looked up, concern etched on his face. ¡°Sis?¡±


    But Artemis was beyond hearing, her mind singularly focused on her target. Far below, the mighty birds of Juno swooped down, their armored talons grabbing the enemy banners and carrying them high into the sky. Without their banners, the enemy soldiers began to panic, their morale crumbling as their symbols of protection were ripped from their grasp.


    With a deep breath, Artemis released her arrow. It streaked through the night, a blazing comet of light that arced across the battlefield with unerring precision. The world seemed to hold its breath as the arrow flew, the air crackling with energy as it bore down on its target.


    The arrow hit the ground with a force that defied imagination, as if a meteor had crashed into the heart of the battlefield. The impact was cataclysmic. In an instant, the enemy¡¯s position was consumed by a blinding explosion of light, so intense it seemed as though a new moon had been born among them. The ground trembled violently, and the night was torn asunder by the sheer magnitude of the blast.


    The explosion erupted outward in a searing wave of destruction, swallowing everything in its path. Warriors were lifted off their feet and hurled through the air like ragdolls, their screams lost in the deafening roar of the blast. Debris¡ªsplintered wood, shattered weapons, and torn banners¡ªwas flung skyward, caught in the fiery maelstrom.


    But the devastation didn¡¯t end there. As the light began to fade, the air itself seemed to recoil, rushing back to fill the void left by the explosion. The sudden vacuum created a powerful implosion, dragging everything back toward the epicenter of the blast with terrifying force. Soldiers who had been flung away now found themselves pulled back, bodies and debris sucked into the vortex as the very atmosphere seemed to collapse inward.


    The battlefield was a scene of utter chaos, the once-organized ranks of the enemy now reduced to a maelstrom of confusion and terror. The ground where the arrow had struck was scorched black, a massive crater marking the spot where the explosion had torn the earth apart. The few enemy soldiers who remained standing were dazed, their ranks shattered, their morale utterly destroyed by the sheer power of Artemis¡¯s strike.


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    Above, Artemis''s body went limp, her strength drained by the sheer effort of her attack. She felt herself falling, the world around her a blur of shadows and fading light. Before she could fully succumb to the darkness, she was caught by the strong arms of the old general and Apollo. Their grip was firm but gentle, a lifeline in the midst of her exhaustion. Her vision blurred, the edges of her world darkening as her body grew weaker, unable to even hold onto her bow. It slipped from her grasp, vanishing into the void below, swallowed by the night.


    Despite her fading consciousness, Artemis caught a glimpse of the devastation she had wrought. The explosion she had unleashed had turned the night into a momentary day, a brilliant moonlight that had illuminated the battlefield with its terrible beauty. The enemy''s ranks, once solid and imposing, were now in utter disarray, their formations shattered beyond repair.


    Panic spread like wildfire among the enemy soldiers. What had once been a force driven by honor and duty was now a mass of terrified men, each driven by a singular, primal instinct: survival. They fled in all directions, their fear eclipsing any sense of loyalty or discipline. The explosion''s shockwave had flung many into the air, and the debris that rained down upon them caused more devastation than the blast itself. Bodies lay crumpled on the ground, broken by the force of their fall, while others staggered to their feet, only to be swept away by the tide of retreating men.


    The sight of their comrades in full retreat broke whatever resolve the remaining enemy soldiers had left. Their ranks thinned as more and more of them abandoned their positions, the terror of Artemis''s attack searing itself into their minds.


    But for the defenders, the sight of the enemy''s disarray was a signal to press the attack. Their hearts, heavy with the losses they had suffered, now burned with a fierce determination. They surged forward with renewed vigor, their cries of vengeance echoing across the battlefield. The momentum had shifted, and they seized the opportunity with both hands, driving the enemy back further with each step.


    Weapons flashed in the moonlight, clashing against armor and flesh as the defenders pushed their advantage. Their strikes were fueled not just by the desire for victory, but by a deep, burning need for retribution. Every blow, every spell cast, was a tribute to those they had lost, a promise to themselves and to their fallen comrades that they would not rest until the enemy was utterly vanquished.


    The enemy, once so formidable, was now a broken, fleeing mass, their morale shattered by the relentless assault. The defenders, though weary, were relentless, pushing forward with a unity and purpose that only grew stronger as the enemy faltered. The battle was turning in their favor, the tide of war now flowing in the direction of the town¡¯s defenders. The night was still dark, but for the first time, hope began to flicker in their hearts.


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    The man in the ornate armor was sent hurtling through the air, the force of the explosion flinging him like a ragdoll. It was the second time he had witnessed the dreadful light that tore through the night like a second moon, and for the second time, he had taken the brunt of its destructive power. His armor, once a proud testament to his status and strength, had done its job¡ªbarely. It had shielded him from the worst of the blast, but the impact had shattered his bones, leaving him gasping for breath, each inhale a jagged knife of pain.


    He landed with a sickening thud, his body bouncing and skidding across the ground like a stone skipped over a pond. Each impact jarred his broken bones, sending waves of agony coursing through him. His armor, now bent and twisted, did little to cushion the blows as he tumbled across the battlefield. The world spun around him, a chaotic blur of dark skies and fractured earth.


    For a moment, everything went black. He slipped into unconsciousness, a brief respite from the torment that wracked his body. But even in the darkness, there was no peace. The sound of distant bells rang in his ears, faint and haunting, pulling him back to the world of the living. When he finally regained consciousness, his vision was hazy, the shapes around him little more than indistinct shadows.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    As his senses returned, the blurry figures came into focus. He saw his own men¡ªhis warriors¡ªracing past him in a blind panic. They trampled over him without a second thought, desperate to escape the carnage behind them. Their faces, usually so stoic and hardened, were now twisted in terror, eyes wide with fear as they fled the battlefield. The realization struck him like a hammer: his forces were crumbling, his lines were breaking, and his soldiers were abandoning the fight.


    A surge of rage and disappointment filled his heart, the emotions almost overwhelming. He wanted to roar in anger, to demand that his men stand their ground, to punish them for their cowardice. But the words caught in his throat, choked off by the pain that radiated from every inch of his body. Every attempt to move sent fresh waves of agony through him, rendering him helpless. The only part of him that remained untouched by the pain was his wooden arm, a lifeless appendage that mocked his current state.


    He tried to rise, to command his men, but his body refused to obey. The mighty warrior, the man who had once inspired fear and respect on the battlefield, was now reduced to a broken, silent figure, lying helpless as his army fell apart around him.


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    He noticed a voice calling out to him, a familiar figure emerging from the chaos. It was one of his most trusted generals, a knight whose once magnificent armor was now dented and scratched, bearing the scars of the brutal battle. Yet despite the damage to his armor, the man moved with the strength and ease of a seasoned warrior, effortlessly lifting his lord to his feet.


    "My Lord," the general said, his voice steady and urgent, "we must retreat. We need to report this to the King. Let us retreat before it''s too late."


    The fallen Lord clicked his tongue in frustration, his pride stinging more than his wounds. With a pained grunt, he forced out a single word. "Yes."


    The troops scattered in every direction, their retreat turning into a full-fledged rout. The defenders, now tasting the sweet victory, didn¡¯t bother to chase after them. Instead, they roared and cheered, their cries of triumph echoing across the battlefield. They had fought with everything they had, and now, against all odds, they stood victorious.


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    High above, the old general cradled Artemis in his arms, his grip firm but gentle as he held the exhausted young girl. "Artemis," he said, his voice softer than usual, betraying a hint of concern. "Young one, are you okay?"


    Barely able to speak, Artemis whispered, "H-help¡­"


    The old man sighed heavily, a mix of exasperation and worry in his eyes. "You¡¯ve used too much mana, Artemis. Don¡¯t ever do that again. Mana deficiency can be fatal."


    "T-teacher¡­ that¡¯s b¡ª" she tried to explain, her words slurring from exhaustion.


    But before she could finish, the general cut her off, his tone sharp and commanding. "I AM NOT YOUR TEACHER AT THIS TIME! ADDRESS ME BY MY RANK!"


    "Y-yes, General," Artemis stammered, her voice barely audible as she forced herself to obey.


    The griffin descended slowly, its massive wings beating the air as it brought them closer to the ground. The sight of the battlefield below made the old general chuckle, a low, rumbling sound that echoed his dark sense of humor.


    He surveyed the devastation caused by Artemis''s spell, the once fierce battleground now littered with debris and the crumpled forms of enemy soldiers. The general chuckled again, a deep, throaty laugh. "Such a spell could annihilate entire armies¡­ too bad it didn¡¯t."


    Artemis, still cradled in his arms, looked up at him, her vision swimming with exhaustion and the aftereffects of her powerful spell.


    The general continued, almost to himself, "Artemis is just a young girl, still a rookie, a rank one. The greatest damage she did was displacement and kinetic force. If she were of a higher level, she would have vaporized them. But for now, she sent them flying, and many suffered a nasty fall. They didn¡¯t die, but they were incapacitated. And those who did perish were the unlucky ones¡ªnot wearing armor, not under the protection of Aegis shields, or simply caught by the flying debris."


    He then turned his gaze to Apollo, who beside him, concern etched on his face. "Young man," the general said, his voice carrying the weight of authority, "which God do you worship?"


    Apollo sighed, realizing there was no evading the question. "The Goddess Gaia and her consort, Thanatos," he replied, his voice steady despite his exhaustion.


    "Who are they?" the general asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are they minor deities?"


    "Sort of," Apollo admitted with a tired nod.


    The general mused over the answer, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "That makes sense. There are a lot of minor deities out there. They have so few worshippers that we often forget they¡¯re still Gods¡­ and their blessings are just as powerful."


    He looked back at the battlefield, at the victory that had been hard-won, and at the three young warriors who had played a crucial role in it.


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    The next day dawned with a heavy stillness, the weight of the previous night''s battle pressing down on the town like a shroud. Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos stood outside the town walls, their young faces etched with the grief and exhaustion that came from witnessing so much loss. Before them stood the marble buildings, each adorned with statues and symbols representing the gods worshiped within. The air was thick with sorrow as the trio watched the mournful procession of townsfolk, their faces streaked with tears as they carried their dead inside.


    Mothers and children wept openly, placing gold coins on the eyes or in the mouths of their loved ones¡ªa final offering to secure safe passage in the afterlife. The trio stood in silent witness, their hearts heavy as they recognized faces among the dead¡ªfriends, neighbors, children their own age, now lifeless and cold. Though they tried to remain stoic, to be strong as they had been taught, the sight of so many familiar faces being carried into the marble tombs chipped away at their resolve.


    They moved slowly, almost as if in a trance, toward the other side of the town, to a place that was painfully familiar to them. This was not the first time they had visited this sacred ground, but it was different now, heavier. The weight of loss settled deep in their chests as they approached the spot they knew too well.


    Their grandmother, Leto, was there, her figure bent in prayer before the deceased. Her voice, soft and filled with reverence, whispered ancient words over the bodies of those who had fallen. This time, it hurt more than ever before. The trio could see the faces of those who had been their family¡ªtheir mothers, their older sisters. Women who had cared for them, guided them, and now lay still, their lives cut short by the cruelty of war. Some had families of their own, children who would now grow up without a mother.


    The grief hit them like a wave, and for the first time since the battle, they allowed themselves to cry. Their tears fell silently as they placed gold coins in the mouths of the deceased, the familiar ritual now feeling unbearably personal. Memories of happier times flashed through their minds¡ªlaughter, stories told by the fire, gentle hands guiding them through their lessons. Now, those memories were all they had left, and the weight of that realization was almost too much to bear.


    Their grandmother, Leto, looked up from her prayers, her eyes filled with a deep, enduring sadness. "We will take care of them," she said softly, her voice carrying both comfort and sorrow. "Don''t worry about them, my children."


    Without words, the trio responded, wrapping their arms around their grandmother in a desperate embrace. In that moment, the warmth of her presence was a balm to their aching hearts. At least they hadn¡¯t lost her. She was still with them, a pillar of strength in a world that had suddenly become so fragile.


    They stayed to help with the burial, their small hands working alongside the others to lay the fallen to rest. Unlike the nobles, the common folk could not afford grand mausoleums or elaborate tombs. The only marker they had was a simple stone, inscribed with the name of the deceased. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was a testament to the life that had been lived, a reminder that they were not forgotten.


    Still grieving, the three children, joined by their remaining siblings, ventured into the forest to gather acorns. Together, they planted the acorns on the graves, a small act of hope amid so much despair. As they pressed the seeds into the earth, they prayed to the Goddess of Life and the Deity of Death. Their prayers were for the souls of those who had lost their lives, that they might find peace in the afterlife, and for those who were left behind, that they might find the strength to carry on.


    The acorns, small and fragile, were planted with trembling hands, each one a promise that life would continue, even in the face of so much loss. The children prayed silently, their words a mix of grief and hope, their hearts still heavy but somehow lighter with the act of planting. They prayed that the trees would grow strong and tall, their roots holding the memories of those who had passed, their branches reaching toward the heavens as a symbol of life enduring, even in the shadow of death.


    The weight of grief hung heavily over the three as they left the funeral behind, the sorrow clinging to them like a second skin. After the somber ceremony, they longed for rest, a brief respite from the overwhelming sadness that had settled in their hearts. They thought of the orphanage, a place that had always been a refuge for them, but now, the thought of it brought only more pain. Too many new children had lost their parents in the siege, and the beds were needed by those who had been left alone in the world.


    So, they made the silent decision to go back home.


    Apollo retreated to the library, where the shelves were lined with scrolls, the pages filled with knowledge he had once eagerly devoured. Now, he struggled to focus on the words, his eyes scanning the lines without truly seeing them. His hands trembled as he unfurled each scroll, trying to immerse himself in the comfort of learning. But every few moments, his vision blurred, not from the strain of reading but from the tears that welled up, refusing to be held back. The words on the scrolls became indistinct, smudged by the dampness of his grief, and yet he persisted, determined to find solace in the familiar routine.


    In another part of the house, Artemis stood with her bow in hand, the familiar weight of the weapon a small comfort in her trembling grasp. She had always found peace in the rhythm of shooting, the way the world narrowed down to the target and the feel of the string against her fingers. But today, her aim was off, her arrows straying wide of the mark. Each missed shot stung, not because of the failure but because of what it represented¡ªthe distraction of her sorrow, the inability to focus on anything other than the pain that throbbed in her chest. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision, but the tears fell anyway, hot and unbidden. Her shoulders shook as she pulled the string back again and again, each release a silent cry, each miss a reminder that even in this, she could not escape her grief.


    Hyakinthos busied himself in the kitchen, the simple task of boiling vegetables his chosen distraction. He sat close to the fire, its warmth a contrast to the cold emptiness he felt inside. The rhythmic bubbling of the pot was almost hypnotic, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to be lulled by it, focusing on the task at hand. He watched the flames dance under the pot, the vegetables bobbing in the water, but the simplicity of the scene only served to underscore the complexity of his emotions. As he stirred the pot, his thoughts drifted to the faces of those they had buried, the sound of the mourning cries still fresh in his mind. The tears came suddenly, catching him off guard, and he bit his lip, trying to hold them back. But it was no use. The dam broke, and he sobbed quietly, his hands gripping the spoon as if it were the only thing anchoring him to the world.


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    The next day dawned with an air of solemnity and pride as an award ceremony was held to honor the nobles who had distinguished themselves in the recent siege. The courtyard was filled with young warriors, all dressed in regal purple robes that signified their bravery. Their faces were a mix of youthful pride and the lingering shadows of battle, as they stood tall, awaiting recognition. The General, a figure of immense authority and wisdom, personally bestowed each of them with a golden wreath. The wreath, acting as a badge, was carefully pinned to their red tunics, symbolizing their courage and the blood they had shed for their people.


    Among them, two stood out for their exceptional acts of bravery. Zephyrus, who had risked everything to save his comrades, received a special commendation. His face, usually so calm and composed, showed a flicker of pride as the General placed a laurel wreath upon his head. Iris, the inventor who had created the explosive pots that incapacitated so many of the enemy, was also recognized. Her invention had turned the tide of battle, and as she received her award, a quiet satisfaction gleamed in her eyes.


    However, there were three notable absences among the young heroes¡ªthree children who were supposed to stand among the honored but were nowhere to be found. The General, though noticing their absence, said nothing. He had been informed beforehand by their parents and understood the reason for their absence.


    In the commoners'' district, far from the grandeur of the ceremony, Artemis and Hyakinthos were hard at work inside a small temple. The space was filled with the groans of the wounded and the hushed whispers of those tending to them. Women and children lay on the ground, their faces pale with pain and fatigue. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and the faint tang of blood. Hyakinthos and Artemis moved through the crowded space, their arms laden with bundles of herbs and rolls of bandages, which they handed to the apothecaries working tirelessly to tend to the injured.


    Apollo was there as well, his face etched with concentration and a touch of anguish as he knelt beside the wounded. His hands glowed with a soft, golden light as he used his gift to heal one person after another. Each time he closed a wound or mended a broken bone, a wave of pain rippled through his own body. The agony of each injury he healed was transferred to him, and there were moments when the pain became so intense that he nearly fainted. But Apollo pressed on, gritting his teeth against the torment, determined to ease the suffering around him. Artemis stayed close by his side, her eyes sharp and alert, ready to support him if the pain became too much to bear.


    Hyakinthos, with his immense strength, was a crucial help to the apothecaries. At times, his power was needed to move the patients, lifting them as gently as he could despite the urgency of the situation. His face was set in a mask of determination, but his eyes betrayed the sorrow that lingered just beneath the surface. The three worked in unison, each driven by a need to help, to do something¡ªanything¡ªto make up for the lives they had seen lost.


    As night fell and the temple began to quiet, the three children returned home, their bodies aching with exhaustion. But as they entered their home, they were met with an unexpected sight. Seated at the table with their adopted mother, Caeilia, was a fat man with tired eyes, sipping tea as if he had all the time in the world.


    "Ahh," the man said as he noticed them. "Are you Apollo and Artemis?"


    "Yes, we are, Lord Lawrence," the two replied, dropping to their knees, trying to hide their discomfort at the sight of the nobleman in their modest home.


    "No need to bow to a lowly child of a baron," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Stand proud, Champions."


    The two exchanged a confused glance, unsure of what he meant.


    "But we aren''t champions," Artemis protested, her voice hesitant.


    The fat noble chuckled, rising from his seat with a heavy grace. He approached Artemis first, placing a badge with the symbol of the Golden Horse on her chest. The emblem gleamed in the dim light, a bright contrast against the shadows of the evening. Then he turned to Apollo, repeating the gesture with a solemn nod. "This is the banner of the Golden Horse... the symbol of this town. You may not be champions of the Gods, but you are the champions of this house. Stand proud, both of you. This is the highest honor I can give to the three of you."


    His words hung in the air, the weight of the honor settling over them like a mantle. The two stood in silence, still trying to process what had just happened, when Lord Lawrence glanced around, his brow furrowing slightly. "Where is the child known as Hyakinthos?"


    "He went home?" Artemis answered, her voice uncertain.


    "He?... Wasn''t Hyakinthos a girl?" the noble asked, his confusion evident.


    "No, my Lord. Hyakinthos is a boy," Apollo clarified, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "A very feminine boy."


    "Ahh, I see," Lawrence replied, nodding slowly as if piecing together a puzzle. "Don''t worry, your friend will receive the reward he earned." He then turned to Caeilia, bowing slightly. "Thank you for the tea, my lady."


    Caeilia returned the bow with a graceful nod as the steward and his guards prepared to leave.


    "Congratulations," she said warmly to her children once the visitors had departed. "You two must be tired and hungry. Come, children, let us eat."


    The two shrugged off their confusion and followed their mother to the table. As they sat down, Artemis mused aloud, "I wonder how Haya would react when he sees the steward at his home?"


    Apollo chuckled, his first genuine smile in what felt like days. "He would probably be just as confused as we were."


    "Now, now, my dear children," Caeilia gently chided, her voice soft but firm. "You should not underestimate the value of that honor. After all, the three of you earned it."


    As they began to eat, the warmth of the meal and the comfort of their mother''s presence provided a small balm to their weary souls. They still felt the weight of the day, of the losses they had witnessed and the grief that still lingered, but for a moment, they allowed themselves to be children again, to find solace in the simple act of being together.

 Chapter 24: Moss Tortoise Beans

    Pacificus and Merina ventured deeper into the heart of the Ever Resting Forest. They had been traveling for three days, taking shelter during the nights and whenever the rain fell. Now, Merina sat perched on a thick, gnarled root, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched her lover.


    "Pacy, calm down," she giggled softly, her voice laced with affection. "You''re going to choke Torrent if you keep holding his neck like that."


    Pacificus, with a strained smile, loosened his grip on the Kirin''s neck. "I''m sorry, Torrent. I''m sorry, Rina, my love," he murmured, his tone a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. Torrent''s mane brushed gently against Pacificus''s face, the silky strands tickling his skin, while the creature''s scales shimmered like precious gems in the dappled sunlight. Yet, for all the Kirin''s grace, Pacificus''s movements were uncharacteristically clumsy, a stark contrast to his usual fluid elegance.


    His complexion had taken on a pale, almost greenish hue as he fought to keep his breakfast where it belonged. Though he was well accustomed to battling on uneven, treacherous terrain, something about riding Torrent made his stomach churn in ways he couldn''t control.


    Merina''s laughter rang out again, a light, melodic sound. She couldn''t help but be amused¡ªthis was the first time she had seen her lover struggle with anything. "Pacy, my love," she called out gently, "try not to resist. Torrent is your steed, your partner. You need to trust him."


    "I-I do, my love," Pacificus replied, his voice shaky as he swallowed hard, fighting the rising nausea. "It¡¯s just¡ªummph." He pressed a hand to his mouth, desperate to stave off the inevitable. "Th-this always happens when I try to ride beasts."


    "Motion sickness?"


    "Th-that¡¯s what it¡¯s called," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might upset the delicate balance in his stomach.


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    "Don''t force yourself too much, Pacy," Merina said gently.


    Pacificus slipped off Torrent''s back, landing ungracefully on the forest floor. He sat down, his head spinning, trying to make sense of the swirling world around him.


    "Here, Pacy, try chewing on these," Merina offered, handing him a few leaves of man-eating flowers. The herbs were known for their strong flavors, but she hoped they might help steady his stomach.


    Pacificus took the herbs and began chewing, though his face twisted as he fought the urge to vomit. The world spun around him, a dizzying blur of colors and shapes.


    "Pacy," Merina began, her voice filled with concern, "is that why you always prefer to walk rather than ride Torrent?"


    He nodded, his eyes closed as he focused on keeping the nausea at bay.


    "Is that also why you only ride Torrent slowly?"


    Another nod.


    "Pacy," Merina''s voice softened with understanding, "why didn''t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you earlier."


    "I''m sorry, Rina," Pacificus replied, his voice laced with guilt. "I didn¡¯t want to bother you, especially when you''re busy with your craft. I know how much you love making clothes and leather equipment, and I didn''t want to distract you... especially when you¡¯re enjoying yourself."


    "Oh, Pacy," Merina sighed, her heart aching with affection. "You could have asked for help."


    "I¡¯m sorry, Rina. I just didn¡¯t want to trouble you."


    Merina chuckled softly, leaning in to give him a tender kiss on the lips. But she quickly pulled back, her lips tingling with the intense heat of the herbs. "H-how does this help with your motion sickness, Pacy? It¡¯s burning my lips!"


    "Oh... I-I''m sorry, Rina," he apologized quickly, offering her water from their waterskin.


    "To think you make such delicious spices out of these flowers," she marveled, taking a sip to soothe the burn.


    "They make good tea too," he added, trying to lighten the mood.


    "I know they make good tea, but I didn''t realize they were this spicy," she said, still feeling the lingering heat on her lips.


    "Oh, I usually mix in other herbs to counter the spice."


    "I know you do, but how do you know the right amount to use?"


    "Well, my love, I chewed three flowers just now," he admitted with a weak smile. "They aren¡¯t actually that spicy¡ªI¡¯m just chewing a lot at once."


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    "Speaking of man-eating flowers..." Merina''s gaze shifted to the flora around them, her curiosity piqued.


    The forest floor was a living tapestry of these strange plants. The man-eating flowers were enormous, their thick, sinuous vines sprawled across the ground like coiled serpents, waiting to strike. Though the vines were still for now, there was a sense of latent danger in their pink tendrils, which clung to anything they touched with a sticky, almost malevolent grip. The flowers themselves came in three distinct forms: red, white, and the massive ones that commanded the scene with their overwhelming presence.


    The giant flowers were the most striking, towering over the others like sentinels. They resembled colossal pitchers, their wide, gaping mouths rimmed with slick, glistening edges. It was as if they were poised to swallow anything foolish enough to wander too close. Their sheer size made them impossible to ignore, a constant reminder of the perilous nature of the forest. The red and white flowers, though smaller, were no less dangerous. These were the ones Merina recognized from Pacificus¡¯s cooking. The red flowers, with their fiery hue, hinted at the intense spice they could add to a dish, while the white ones exuded a cool, minty scent that brought balance to the heat.


    "The white ones hunt by spraying a scent that makes you sleepy," Pacificus explained, his voice low and steady. "The red ones are deceptive. It¡¯s not the flowers themselves that are tasty, but their vines. Those vines, though¡ªthey¡¯re incredibly itchy and painful to touch. The red flowers use them to ensnare their prey. And the big ones... well, don¡¯t fall into them, my love. They hunt by trapping beasts inside those pitchers."


    "Oh... interesting," Merina murmured, already pulling out an empty scroll. Her hands became a blur as she documented the plants that had captured her attention, sketching their forms and jotting down notes with unbelievable speed .


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    The forest was alive with movement. The trees of the Ever Resting Forest were ancient and enormous, their trunks so thick and tall that they seemed to reach the sky. It was easy to mistake the treants¡ªliving trees with a slow, deliberate gait¡ªfor smaller, ordinary trees. But as they moved, the ground trembled slightly, and the air was filled with the sound of creaking wood and rustling leaves. Pacificus and Merina watched in silence, careful to avoid the treants as they passed by, each step heavy with the weight of centuries.


    Then, a new scent reached them, cutting through the earthy smells of the forest. It was a foul, rancid odor that turned their stomachs. The stench grew stronger, and with it came a sound¡ªdistant at first, but growing steadily louder. Bells. The eerie ringing of bells echoed through the forest, the sound sharp and relentless, each chime setting their nerves on edge.


    "P-Pacy?" Merina''s voice trembled, a note of terror creeping in as the ringing grew more insistent. The bells kept on ringing, their sound weaving through the trees, as if something dreadful was drawing nearer with every toll.


    "Calm down, Rina," Pacificus said, his voice steady and composed. He glanced back over his shoulder, but Merina kept her gaze firmly forward, unable to bring herself to look. A cold, creeping fear had settled over her, as if something unspeakable was lurking just behind her. The very thought of turning around filled her with dread; she feared that if she did, the image would haunt her nightmares forever.


    "My love, the creature is called a Bell Beast," Pacificus explained, his tone calm, almost reassuring. "It¡¯s actually omnivorous but primarily a scavenger. I¡¯ve seen them eating carrion, dead leaves, and even decaying trees. They¡¯re mostly harmless."


    "Pa-Pacy, let¡¯s get out of here, please," Merina whispered, her voice shaky with fear. Even Torrent, their loyal Kirin, was growing restless, his usually serene demeanor disrupted by the eerie presence behind them.


    "Of course, Rina," Pacificus replied without hesitation. He took her hand, his grip firm and comforting, and began to lead her and Torrent away from the path of the scavenger.


    Merina¡¯s heart pounded in her chest, the relentless ringing of the bells filling her ears. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to look back, the sound alone was enough to send shivers down her spine. It was as if the bells were calling out to her, pulling at her fear with every chime.


    "You know," Pacificus began, his voice breaking the tension, "the bells you hear are actually from the plants that grow on the creature¡¯s fur. The Bell Beasts don¡¯t eat those plants, but many herbivores love to feed on them. To protect themselves, the plants attach their seeds and flowers to the Bell Beasts. And these creatures... they¡¯re intimidating. They have an aura of dread that surrounds them, a horrible smell to ward off predators. They¡¯re huge, tall, and very unnerving to look at."


    "Wha-what do they look like?" Merina asked, her curiosity getting the better of her fear.


    "I don¡¯t know how to describe it, Rina... They¡¯re just... uncanny."


    Despite her better judgment, Merina¡¯s curiosity won out. She slowly turned her head and glanced behind her. The sight that met her eyes sent a chill through her entire body. The Bell Beast was a nightmarish vision¡ªa towering figure draped in a dark, tattered cloak that seemed to merge with the shadows around it. Its long neck was twisted in an unnatural way, and its horns, jagged and asymmetrical, jutted out at odd angles. The creature¡¯s face was the most disturbing of all; it had red, glowing eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness, and its features, though humanoid, were twisted and wrong, as if sculpted by some cruel hand.


    The sight was horrifying, a grotesque blend of the familiar and the alien. The longer she stared, the more the creature¡¯s form seemed to distort, as if reality itself was warping around it.


    "I regret doing that! Let¡¯s run!" Merina gasped, terror gripping her heart.


    "As you wish, Rina," Pacificus responded immediately. With a swift, powerful motion, he scooped her up into his arms. He was tall and strong, his muscles taut with the effort as he leaped from one massive root to another, effortlessly navigating the treacherous forest terrain. His speed was astonishing, each jump carrying them farther from the Bell Beast. Torrent followed closely behind, the Kirin¡¯s movements graceful yet urgent, its hooves barely touching the ground as it ran and jumped in sync with Pacificus.


    The forest blurred around them, the oppressive atmosphere left behind as they put distance between themselves and the uncanny creature. The bells faded into the distance, their haunting chimes replaced by the sound of wind rushing past as Pacificus carried them to safety.


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    After their harrowing escape, Pacificus and Merina resumed their journey at a more relaxed pace. The vastness of the Ever Resting Forest was overwhelming, making them feel small and insignificant beneath the towering trees. The trunks stretched endlessly upward, their massive canopies blotting out much of the sky, casting the forest floor in a soft, diffused light.


    As they continued, they came across small lakes that seemed like mere puddles in comparison to the enormous landscape around them. Each lake had its own delicate waterfall, the water cascading gently from roots and rocks. The lakes teemed with life, and they could see a variety of animals quenching their thirst at the water¡¯s edge. There were deer the size of horses, their antlers adorned with blooming flowers; enormous beasts with three horns and thick, muscular tails; bear-like creatures with massive claws; and hippogriffs, their majestic forms bending low to sip the cool water, their keen eyes scanning the surroundings for danger.


    They watched in awe, marveling at the serene beauty of the scene. But their tranquility was shattered when a massive orange and red frog, its skin glistening with moisture, suddenly launched itself at one of the giant deer. The frog''s body was adorned with what looked like horns, and it moved with a speed that belied its bulk. In an instant, it swallowed the deer whole, its jaws stretching wide to accommodate the animal, antlers and all. The rest of the herd scattered in fear, their hooves thundering against the earth as they fled the waterside.


    "Wh-what is that thing?" Merina gasped, her eyes wide with shock. "It¡¯s huge, Pacy!"


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    "That, my love, is a barking toad," Pacificus replied calmly, though his eyes remained fixed on the creature.


    "Barking toad?" Merina echoed, incredulous.


    "Yes," Pacificus confirmed. "I call it a barking toad because they bark during their mating season. The one you see is a male. You can tell by the vibrant colors and size. The females, on the other hand, are much larger¡ªthree times the size, in fact¡ªand their skin is a dull, mud-colored brown."


    "W-wait, you''re telling me there are frogs bigger than that thing?" Merina''s voice wavered between disbelief and horror.


    "Yes," Pacificus nodded.


    She quickly pulled out her sketchbook, her hands moving swiftly as she began to capture the image of the massive amphibian on paper. "Is it poisonous, my dear?" she asked, her voice steadying as she focused on her work.


    "Yes," Pacificus answered, watching the toad with a mix of respect and caution. "It sprays its poison using those sacs on its head. The poison is potent enough to deter most predators, but cockatrices love to eat them. I don¡¯t blame them, though. The meat is delicious."


    "W-wait, how can you eat them if they¡¯re poisonous?" Merina asked, her curiosity piqued.


    "The poison is concentrated in the sacs on their heads," Pacificus explained. "The rest of the body is safe to eat. In fact, the meat is quite good, though I wouldn¡¯t recommend eating the head¡ªit¡¯s mostly hard bone and not worth the effort."


    "I see," Merina murmured as she jotted down notes beside her sketch. "What about its skin?"


    "Stretchy, flexible, and strong," Pacificus said thoughtfully. "But also sticky. It¡¯s not easy to handle."


    Merina¡¯s eyes lit up with excitement. She was a tailor at heart, and the thought of discovering new materials for her craft thrilled her. The idea of working with such unique and resilient material sparked her imagination. A smile crept onto her face as she envisioned the possibilities. This forest, dangerous and daunting as it was, held treasures beyond her wildest dreams.


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    As they traveled through the dense, ancient forest, they approached a massive rock, towering like a small, two-story house. The rock was covered in a thick layer of plants and moss, creating a vibrant tapestry of greens, purples, and reds. Flowers of various shapes and hues sprouted from every crevice, adding splashes of color that made the rock look like a living, breathing part of the forest.


    "Rina," Pacificus called softly, his voice breaking the tranquil silence. "Let¡¯s pass around it."


    "Of course," Merina replied, her gaze still captivated by the beauty of the vibrant rock.


    But as they began to move, the rock shifted, sending a tremor through the ground beneath them. Slowly, the massive structure began to rise, revealing a head¡ªmassive and ancient, with eyes like pools of amber. It chewed lazily on a mouthful of foliage, its enormous jaws grinding the plants and mushrooms that grew at the base of the colossal trees.


    It was then that Merina realized with a start that this was no rock. The creature was a gigantic tortoise, its shell a fortress of moss and plants that had grown undisturbed for centuries. The tortoise seemed unbothered by their presence, continuing to munch on its meal with a slow, rhythmic motion, completely at peace in its ancient forest home.


    "Rina, wait here for a moment," Pacificus said, his voice filled with a sudden excitement. Before she could respond, he leaped onto the tortoise¡¯s shell with an effortless grace, moving faster than her eyes could track.


    Merina watched in awe as Pacificus became a blur of motion, his figure darting across the tortoise¡¯s back with the agility of a creature born to this wild, untamed world. She could have sworn she saw him smile, a bright, genuine smile that warmed her heart. Whatever he was doing, it was clear he was enjoying himself, and that alone brought a smile to her face as well.


    When he returned, his arms were full, carrying what seemed to be an enormous bounty of beans still encased in their pods. The beans were plump and vibrant, clearly thriving in the fertile environment of the tortoise¡¯s shell.


    "I need a bigger bag, my love," Pacificus said with a grin, his eyes alight with the thrill of discovery.


    Merina¡¯s heart swelled with affection as she handed him an empty bag from their supplies. She watched, her eyes following him as best they could, though he was mostly a blur, his movements so fast and fluid they were almost impossible to follow. But what she could see¡ªhis joy, the satisfaction on his face¡ªfilled her with warmth.


    She loved seeing him like this, in his element, moving with a confidence and ease that spoke of his deep connection with the wild. The smile on his face, so rare and beautiful, was something she treasured. Even though her lover was a blur of motion, the sight of his happiness was clear and vivid in her mind, a moment she would carry with her always.


    "These beans only grow on moss tortoise," Pacificus explained, his voice tinged with both frustration and fondness. "I¡¯ve tried countless times to cultivate them on my farm, but they never take. But trust me, Rina, these beans are delicious." He glanced at Torrent, noting the Kirin¡¯s calm demeanor before frowning slightly. "This won¡¯t be enough," he muttered to himself, before swiftly returning to the moss turtle¡¯s shell, his movements a blur as he gathered more of the precious beans.


    Once satisfied with his haul, they resumed their journey. Merina rode atop Torrent, the Kirin¡¯s smooth gait making the ride comfortable. As they traveled, Pacificus moved alongside them, his sharp eyes scanning the forest floor with practiced ease. Every so often, he would pause, crouch down, and with a deft twist, pluck something from the ground. Each time, he would reveal a new treasure¡ªa wild onion here, a cluster of garlic bulbs there, even potatoes with skins so thick and gnarled that they seemed to have grown directly from the earth itself.


    The sheer size of the onions, garlic, and potatoes astonished Merina. To her, the plants blended into the undergrowth, indistinguishable from the grass and foliage around them. Yet Pacificus, with his intimate knowledge of the land, could identify each one with unerring accuracy. She marveled at how he could spot a wild tomato vine hidden among the dense greenery¡ªsomething she would have completely overlooked. When he pointed out the ripe, plump tomatoes, she was amazed by their size; each one was larger than her hand, and her hands were not small.


    The sight of these enormous, vibrant vegetables brought to mind Pacificus¡¯s farm. The abundant harvest, the vivid colors, and the sheer size of everything reminded her of the bounty that grew under his care. It was as if the forest was an extension of his farm, offering up its riches to the one who knew how to find them.


    "Rina, are you fine with having beans for our meal?" Pacificus asked, breaking the comfortable silence.


    Merina smiled warmly, her heart full of affection for her lover. "Of course, Pacy," she replied. "I¡¯m just glad we can eat."


    As they continued through the ancient forest, Merina couldn¡¯t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude and contentment. The day¡¯s harvest was more than just food; it was a testament to Pacificus¡¯s skills, his deep connection with the land, and his love for her. Each vegetable, each bean, was a gift from the forest, a symbol of their journey together.


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    The sun hung high in the sky, casting dappled light through the towering canopy of the Ever Resting Forest. Pacificus glanced upward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the position of the sun before turning his gaze to the colossal trees surrounding them. Each one was a giant, its trunk thick and ancient, stretching high above them, the branches like massive arms reaching for the heavens.


    After some searching, they found a suitable spot to rest¡ªa vast, empty tree hollow nestled within one of the larger trunks. The hollow was spacious enough for them to take shelter, and the thick walls offered a natural barrier from the elements. Merina and Pacificus entered the hollow with ease, their movements practiced and fluid after days of travel.


    Torrent, however, presented more of a challenge. The Kirin¡¯s magnificent, muscular form filled the entrance of the hollow, his large belly proving to be a bit too generous for the narrow opening. His scales glistened in the fading light, and his mane, usually so elegant, was now slightly disheveled from the journey. With a look of mild embarrassment, Torrent shifted and tried to wedge himself inside, his hooves and claws scraping against the ancient bark.


    "Come on, Torrent, you can do it," Merina encouraged, her voice gentle as she grasped his neck, pulling with all her strength. The Kirin huffed in response, his breath warm against her skin, but his girth made progress slow.


    Outside, Pacificus stood on one of the massive branches, his feet steady on the thick wood as he pushed from behind. The branch was as wide as a road, its surface worn smooth from centuries of wind and rain. With a combined effort¡ªMerina pulling and Pacificus pushing¡ªthey managed to coax Torrent inch by inch into the hollow. The Kirin grunted, his large body finally giving way as he squeezed through the entrance with a soft thud.


    Once inside, the space felt cozy, despite its size. The hollow was lined with soft, dry wood, its walls curving gently inward like the protective embrace of a mother. The air was cool and carried the faint scent of earth and ancient wood, a comforting contrast to the outside world.


    Merina and Pacificus quickly set to work sealing the entrance. Using the thick cloth of their tent, they draped it over the opening, nailing the edges securely to the tree bark. The fabric blocked out the remaining light, casting the interior into deep shadow. The darkness was immediate, the transition from the bright forest to the pitch-black hollow making it feel as though they had stepped into another world.


    The sounds of the forest outside became muffled, the rustling leaves and distant calls of animals softened by the thick walls of the tree. Inside, the air was still, the quiet almost reverent, as if the hollow itself was holding its breath along with them. Merina could hear Torrent¡¯s steady breathing, a gentle rhythm that soothed her nerves. Beside her, Pacificus moved with quiet efficiency, his presence a comforting anchor in the dark.


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    Inside the darkened hollow, Pacificus crouched by the small fire he had just kindled. The flames flickered and danced, casting a warm, orange glow that pushed back the shadows, revealing the rustic, ancient beauty of their surroundings. The crackling of the fire provided a comforting backdrop as he prepared to cook.


    Pacificus began by cleaning the ingredients with care, his movements deliberate and precise. He took out the beans he had gathered from the moss turtle, their pods thick and vibrant with life. He placed them in a small pot of water, hanging it over the fire with a sturdy iron hook. As the water slowly began to heat, he turned his attention to the other ingredients.


    The wild tomatoes were plump and ripe, their skins a deep red, almost the size of a small melon. Pacificus used a small, sharp knife to slice them into thick wedges, the juice running over his fingers as he worked. The garlic bulbs were next, each one nearly the size of his fist. He peeled away the rough outer layers, revealing the smooth, creamy cloves inside. With a flat stone, he crushed the garlic, releasing its pungent aroma, filling the hollow with its sharp, comforting scent.


    The onions, large and round, were similarly prepared. Pacificus cut through their thick skins, revealing the juicy, layered flesh beneath. He diced them finely, his knife moving with practiced ease. The potatoes, nearly as large as his hand, were peeled and cut into chunks, their pale, starchy insides contrasting with the vibrant colors of the other vegetables.


    Next, he turned to the more unusual ingredients¡ªthe white and red flowers from the man-eating plants. He knew these flowers well, their unique properties both a challenge and a delight for any cook. The white flowers, with their cool, minty aroma, were crushed with a pestle into a fine powder, their scent mingling with the garlic and onions. The red flowers, known for their intense heat, were treated with caution. He crushed them as well, their bright color turning into a deep, rich powder that he knew would add a fiery kick to the dish.


    The vines from the man-eating plants were the final touch. Pacificus carefully skinned them, removing the rough outer layer to reveal the tender, edible flesh beneath. He sliced the vines into thin strips, their texture slightly fibrous, but with a subtle sweetness that he knew would complement the other flavors perfectly.


    By now, the water in the pot was boiling, the beans from the moss turtle gently simmering within. They were firm and hearty, needing time to soften and absorb the flavors of the other ingredients. Pacificus added the diced onions and crushed garlic to the pot first, allowing them to meld with the beans as they cooked. The rich aroma of the onions and garlic filled the hollow, mingling with the earthy scent of the simmering beans.


    As the beans softened, he added the chunks of potato, letting them absorb the savory broth. The wild tomatoes were added next, their juices thickening the stew, turning it into a rich, hearty meal. Finally, Pacificus sprinkled in the crushed white and red flowers, their opposing flavors¡ªcool and minty, fiery and intense¡ªblending together in a complex harmony.


    The sliced vines were added last, their slight sweetness balancing the dish, adding a unique texture to the stew. Pacificus stirred the pot slowly, letting the flavors meld together over the gentle heat of the fire. The stew simmered, its aroma filling the hollow, a blend of earthy beans, sweet tomatoes, sharp garlic, and the exotic spices of the flowers and vines.


    As the stew bubbled and thickened, Pacificus sat back, content with his work. The fire crackled softly, the warm light flickering across their faces as they waited for the meal to finish cooking. Merina watched him with a smile, the sight of her lover so focused and in his element bringing her a deep sense of peace and happiness.


    Finally, Pacificus took a small spoon and tasted the stew, nodding in satisfaction as the flavors danced on his tongue. The beans were tender, the broth rich and flavorful, with just the right balance of spice and sweetness.


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    As the first drops of rain began to patter against the massive leaves above, Merina and Pacificus settled in the warmth of the tree hollow, sharing the hearty stew that Pacificus had so carefully prepared. The fire crackled softly, its warmth a welcome contrast to the cool dampness that was creeping into the forest as the rain intensified.


    Torrent, the Kirin, was not forgotten. Pacificus carefully ladled out a generous portion of the stew into a large wooden bowl, placing it before the eager creature. Torrent wasted no time, his long, elegant neck bending down as he devoured the meal with gusto. His scales glistened faintly in the dim light, reflecting the soft glow of the fire, and his eyes sparkled with contentment.


    The couple sat close together, sharing a sense of calm satisfaction as they ate. The stew was thick and rich, each spoonful bursting with flavor. The beans from the moss tortoise had absorbed the spices perfectly, offering a hearty texture that paired beautifully with the tender chunks of potato and the sweetness of the wild tomatoes. The subtle heat from the red flowers added just the right amount of warmth, while the minty notes from the white flowers provided a refreshing counterbalance. It was a meal that spoke of the forest¡ªwild, untamed, and full of life.


    Outside, the rain began to fall in earnest, heavy droplets pounding against the earth and the massive trees, creating a rhythmic drumming that filled the air. The downpour was so intense that it quickly transformed the forest floor into a shallow, rippling sea. The giant tortoise, its shell still barely visible beneath a thick layer of moss and plants, remained unbothered by the rising water. It slowly raised its head, its long, scaly neck stretching toward the sky as it opened its massive mouth, seemingly drinking in the rain that cascaded from above. The sight was almost serene, a testament to the creature''s ancient, unhurried nature.


    As the floodwaters rose, other beasts of the forest began to stir. Creatures of all sizes climbed the towering trees, seeking refuge from the encroaching waters. Among them, the Bell Beast made its slow, deliberate way to the massive roots of a nearby tree. It held a thick branch in its clawed hands, bringing it to its mouth with a disturbingly human-like motion. The sight of the creature gnawing on the branch, its eerie, bell-covered fur swaying with each movement, sent a shiver down Merina''s spine, a stark reminder of the uncanny nature of the forest.


    The deep, resonant barks of the giant frogs echoed through the hollow as they called to one another, their throats expanding and contracting rhythmically. The sound was almost musical, a deep, primal chorus that resonated through the trees. The largest of them, a mud-colored behemoth, emerged from the murky waters, its massive form dwarfing the surrounding landscape. It moved with a slow, deliberate grace, its eyes blinking lazily as it surveyed the flooded forest.


    Inside the hollow, sheltered from the storm, Pacificus and Merina found a moment of peace. The rain created a soothing backdrop, a curtain of sound that isolated them from the vast, mysterious world outside. They ate in comfortable silence, savoring each bite of the stew, each other''s presence, and the warmth of the fire. Even Torrent, full from his meal, lay down contentedly, his breathing slow and steady as he rested beside them.


    The world outside was wild and unpredictable, but in this small, hollowed-out sanctuary, they were safe, warm, and together.

 Chapter 25: Honeymoon In The Ever Resting Forest

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    Careful not to wake her, Pacificus gently slipped his arm from beneath Merina, his movements slow and deliberate. He pulled a fur blanket over her, tucking it around her bare shoulders to keep the chill at bay. In the dim light of the tree hollow, her features were soft and serene, the faintest smile still gracing her lips as she slept.


    With a quiet sigh, Pacificus rose to his feet, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. He approached the entrance of the hollow, his eyes narrowing as he peered into the darkness beyond. To his surprise, it was still night¡ªpitch black, with the moon hidden behind a blanket of thick clouds. The rain had lessened but not stopped, and the swollen floodwaters still lapped against the roots of the ancient trees, creating a steady, rhythmic sound that blended with the distant, unsettling noises of the forest.


    He turned his attention to their supplies, quickly assessing what they had left. They had enough to last them through the week, but Pacificus knew that Merina would need a hearty breakfast after the night they had shared. With that in mind, he decided to venture outside. He was accustomed to moving through the darkness, his senses finely attuned to the world around him in ways that went beyond mere sight.


    As he stepped out of the hollow, the darkness seemed to wrap around him like a living thing. The trees loomed high above, their vast canopies obscuring what little light might have filtered down. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and moss, tinged with the sharp, metallic smell of decaying leaves carried by the floodwaters. Every sound was amplified in the dark¡ª the steady drip of water from the leaves above, the faint rustle of creatures moving through the underbrush, and the distant croaks and calls of nocturnal beasts that echoed through the forest.


    Pacificus moved silently, his steps careful and deliberate. He relied on his hearing, the subtle shifts in the air, and his deep familiarity with the Ever Resting Forest to guide him. The forest was alive with activity, but it was a world he understood¡ªone where he knew the difference between the harmless rustle of a small animal and the stealthy approach of a predator. His ears picked up the low, guttural calls of the giant frogs still lingering near the flooded waters, their deep voices a constant reminder of their presence. Farther off, he could hear the heavy, deliberate footfalls of larger creatures¡ªperhaps another moss turtle or even a Bell Beast, though he knew they posed no immediate threat as long as he kept his distance.


    Each sound painted a picture in his mind, allowing him to navigate the forest with ease.


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    As Pacificus stood in the dim light of the Ever Resting Forest, the faint sound of bells reached his ears¡ªa haunting, melodic chime that pierced through the darkness. A smile formed on his lips, recognizing the source of the eerie sound. The bells signaled the presence of the Bell Beasts, scavengers of the forest, and he was drawn to them with a calm familiarity.


    With practiced ease, he leaped from one colossal root to another, his movements fluid and precise. The forest around him was alive with the sound of rushing floodwaters, a guide that directed him where to place his steps. The air was thick with moisture, and the scent of rain-soaked earth mingled with the foul stench of decay as he drew closer to his destination.


    When he arrived, the scene that greeted him would have sent shivers down the spine of any ordinary person. The Bell Beasts were gathered around a large, decaying log, their red eyes glowing like embers in the dark. The stench of death and rot was overwhelming, a nauseating mixture of decomposing wood and organic matter. Their bells rang out, creating an unnerving symphony that echoed through the trees.


    Pacificus, however, was unfazed. He approached the beasts with an air of nonchalance, his senses attuned to their behavior. Their grotesque forms were massive and ungainly, with dark, matted fur that clung to their skeletal frames. As he walked among them, one of the beasts turned its head, its gaping maw opening to reveal jagged, rotting teeth. It nibbled at his arm, but quickly released him when it realized he was not part of the decaying feast it sought.


    Ignoring the creature''s half-hearted attempt, Pacificus focused on his true purpose. He was after the bell flowers that grew on the Bell Beasts, their delicate petals swaying with each movement of the creatures, releasing a gentle chime. With careful precision, he drew his dagger and cut away the flowers, collecting them in his hand. The flowers were a deep, inky black, their petals smooth and glossy, and they emitted a soft ringing with each slight movement, like tiny bells in the night.


    Satisfied with his harvest, Pacificus turned his attention to the decaying log that the beasts were voraciously consuming. He knelt beside it, braving the overwhelming stench as he plunged his hands into the rotten wood. His fingers sifted through the damp, decaying matter, feeling for the hidden treasures he knew lay within. The wood was soft and spongy, teeming with life¡ªmaggots and beetles scurried beneath the surface, their movements imperceptible to all but the most sensitive touch.


    His hand brushed against something large and slimy, a gooey mass that clung to his fingers with a wet, sticky sensation. With a swift motion, he grabbed hold of it, pulling out a massive beetle larvae, its pale body glistening with a thick, greenish slime. The creature was grotesque, with a bony head capped by sharp mandibles and three pairs of spindly legs that twitched in the cool air. Its body was segmented, each section pulsing as it wriggled in his grasp.


    Undeterred, Pacificus continued to dig through the decaying wood, extracting more of the larvae and, finally, uncovering a cluster of giant mushrooms. These fungi were massive, their caps a deep, earthy brown with specks of yellow and white. The mushrooms were firm and dense, their thick stems almost as wide as his wrist.


    With his finds in hand, Pacificus made his way back to the hollow tree. The journey back was as quiet as when he left, the sounds of the forest continuing their strange chorus. When he returned to the hollow, he found Merina awake, brushing Torrent¡¯s mane as the fire crackled and burned brighter, casting a warm, comforting glow throughout their shelter.


    "Oh, Pacy," she said, her voice soft and welcoming. "You''re back. What did you bring th¡ª" Her words caught in her throat as she caught sight of what he was holding, her face paling visibly. "What is that?"


    Pacificus looked down at his collection with a calm smile. "Oh, these?" he said, holding up the black leaves that resembled vines. Each movement made them ring softly, the sound delicate and eerie. "These are bell plants that I gathered from the Bell Beasts."


    He then held up the large, writhing larvae, its green goo sticking to his hands as it wiggled in the air. "This is a beetle larvae," he explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.


    Finally, he presented the giant mushrooms, their earthy scent mingling with the pungent odor of the larvae. "And these are giant mushrooms. I thought they might come in handy."


    Merina¡¯s eyes widened as she looked at the bizarre collection.


    As soon as Pacificus returned, he wasted no time in beginning the process of cooking. The fire crackled as he placed the giant mushrooms and other ingredients nearby, preparing to make use of his unusual finds. His movements were swift and practiced, each action carried out with the efficiency of someone well-versed in the art of survival.


    Meanwhile, Merina''s attention was drawn to the massive beetle larvae. They lay on the ground, their pale, segmented bodies glistening with the thick green goo that oozed from their forms. Each larva was as thick as her hand, their bony heads capped with sharp mandibles that twitched with residual life. But it wasn¡¯t the grotesque appearance of the creatures that captivated her¡ªit was the strange, sticky substance that seeped from their bodies.


    Driven by curiosity, Merina reached for a stick, her fingers wrapping around the smooth wood as she hesitated for just a moment before touching it to the goo. As the stick made contact with the substance, she noticed that it wasn¡¯t just any ordinary secretion. The goo had an unusual texture, stretching in thin, shimmering strands that clung to the stick like a delicate web.


    Her eyes widened in realization as she lifted the stick, watching as the green goo stretched and solidified into a fine thread. It was silk¡ªstrong, flexible, and lustrous, with a soft sheen that caught the light of the fire. She gently tugged at the thread, feeling its resilience as it resisted breaking. This was no ordinary silk; it was something special, something rare and valuable.


    Merina¡¯s heart raced with excitement. As a tailor, she had worked with various materials, but this¡ªthis was unlike anything she had ever encountered. The silk was thick and durable, yet light and pliable, the perfect material for creating something extraordinary. The thought of weaving this into her work, of turning it into something beautiful and unique, filled her with a sense of wonder and possibility.


    She continued to carefully collect the silk, her hands moving with delicate precision as she drew more of the substance from the larvae. Each strand was a treasure, a gift from the strange and unsettling creatures that Pacificus had brought back. The forest, with all its dangers and mysteries, had once again revealed a hidden gem, and Merina couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of awe at the unexpected discovery.


    With each strand of silk she gathered, her excitement grew, her mind already racing with ideas of what she could create. The forest had given her more than just a chance for survival¡ªit had given her inspiration.


    As Pacificus meticulously cut the wild vegetables and bell leaves, his knife gliding through the crisp onions and plump tomatoes with practiced ease, he caught sight of Merina out of the corner of his eye. She was seated a little distance away, her focus entirely on the larvae he had brought back. In her hand was a stick, which she was carefully spinning, and as she did, the goo from the larvae was being drawn into long, green strands.


    Intrigued, Pacificus paused in his work, wiping his hands on a cloth before calling out to her. ¡°Rina?¡± he asked, his tone curious but gentle. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    Merina looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. A smile spread across her face, one that Pacificus knew well¡ªit was the smile she wore when she had stumbled upon something truly remarkable. ¡°Pacy,¡± she began, her voice filled with a quiet thrill, ¡°this is amazing. This goo¡­ it¡¯s silk, Pacy. Sticky silk, but once it dries, it will make for a great thread.¡±


    Pacificus blinked, a mix of curiosity and confusion crossing his features. ¡°Silk?¡± he repeated, his brow furrowing slightly. ¡°I... I see... but what is silk?¡±


    Merina chuckled softly, the sound light and warm, as she held up the stick for him to see. The green strands were already beginning to dry, their sheen becoming more pronounced as they solidified into something finer. ¡°Silk is a material, Pacy,¡± she explained, her tone patient and filled with affection. ¡°It¡¯s a kind of thread that can be woven into cloth. It¡¯s smooth, strong, and when it¡¯s finished, it has a beautiful shine to it. We use it to make garments, especially those that need to be both durable and elegant.¡±


    She carefully twirled the stick, allowing him to see the transformation up close. ¡°This silk is different from what I usually see,¡± she continued, her voice filled with wonder. ¡°It¡¯s thicker, and the color¡­ this green, it¡¯s so vibrant. I¡¯ve never seen anything quite like it. Imagine the possibilities, Pacy. I could weave it into something unique.¡±


    Pacificus watched her with a soft smile, appreciating the enthusiasm that lit up her face. He might not have understood the full significance of her discovery, but he recognized the joy it brought her. ¡°That sounds incredible, Rina,¡± he said, his voice warm with admiration. ¡°I¡¯m glad you found something special.¡±


    Merina beamed at him, her heart swelling with love for the man who, even in the midst of their survival in this strange and often dangerous forest, had thought to bring back something that could spark her creativity. ¡°Thank you, Pacy,¡± she whispered, her eyes meeting his with a depth of emotion that needed no further words.


    Pacificus returned to his cooking, his movements a little lighter, knowing that he had once again brought a smile to the face of the woman he loved.


    Pacificus returned to his cooking with a lightness in his step, the sight of Merina''s smile lingering in his mind. He glanced at the larvae, now being expertly spun into silk threads by Merina, and decided to improvise with the other ingredients at hand. He rolled up his sleeves, set his focus, and began to work.


    First, Pacificus grabbed the largest of the giant mushrooms, its cap broad and its underside filled with gills that released a deep, earthy scent. He sliced through the mushroom with a well-practiced hand, each cut releasing a rich, savory aroma that promised to deepen the flavor of the dish. The knife glided smoothly through the thick, spongy texture, and soon he had a neat pile of mushroom slices, each piece slightly different in size, showcasing the natural, rustic quality of the forest bounty.


    Next, he turned to the wild onions and garlic. Pacificus peeled away the outer layers of the onions, revealing their glossy, pale flesh beneath. He chopped them finely, their sharp, pungent smell filling the air, He added the chopped garlic next, its small cloves yielding easily, releasing their potent, aromatic oil.


    The tomatoes came next, their large, ripe bodies bursting with juice. Pacificus cut them into thick wedges, allowing the seeds and juice to spill over the cutting board. The vibrant red color of the tomatoes contrasted beautifully with the other ingredients, promising to add a bright, tangy flavor to the stew. He set them aside and reached for the bell leaves, their green hue deep and the faint ringing sound they made as he handled them adding a touch of magic to the cooking process. He tore them into smaller pieces, their fibrous texture giving way under his hands, releasing a subtle, grassy fragrance that mingled with the other scents in the air.


    Finally, he added a handful of the wild potatoes, their skins still dusted with the forest soil. He scrubbed them clean in a basin of water, then diced them into bite-sized chunks. The potatoes were firm and starchy, their texture a perfect complement to the softness of the mushrooms and the juiciness of the tomatoes.


    With all the ingredients prepared, Pacificus turned to the fire. He set a pot over the flames, letting it heat for a moment before adding a drizzle of oil. The oil sizzled as it hit the hot metal, and Pacificus quickly added the onions and garlic, stirring them with a wooden spoon. The kitchen filled with the mouthwatering aroma of the vegetables as they softened and caramelized, their edges turning golden brown. He then added the mushrooms, the hearty slices soaking up the flavors from the pot, their moisture released in a gentle hiss.


    Once the mushrooms were tender and browned, Pacificus added the tomatoes, stirring them into the mix. The juice from the tomatoes mingled with the mushrooms and onions, creating a rich, fragrant base for the stew. He added a splash of water to the pot, then tossed in the potatoes, letting them sink into the simmering liquid. The bell leaves followed, their green color brightening the stew, adding a hint of bitterness and a touch of magic to the mix.


    Pacificus sprinkled in a pinch of salt and a handful of crushed dried herbs he had gathered earlier. He stirred everything together, then covered the pot, allowing the stew to simmer gently over the fire. The aroma grew more complex, filling the hollow with a comforting, mouthwatering smell that made his stomach rumble.


    As the stew cooked, Pacificus occasionally lifted the lid to stir, ensuring the flavors blended together perfectly. The potatoes softened, the mushrooms absorbed the tangy tomato juices, and the bell leaves infused the broth with a subtle, unique flavor that was both earthy and refreshing. The bubbling pot was a symphony of scents and colors, each ingredient contributing to the harmony of the dish.


    Satisfied with his creation, Pacificus leaned back, his eyes flickering to Merina, who was still absorbed in her silk-spinning.


    After enjoying their hearty meal, the couple found solace in the dim light of the hollow tree, where Merina began to teach Pacificus the art of collecting silk. Her hands moved with a grace and speed that left Pacificus in awe, her fingers expertly spinning the silk from the larvae onto a branch. Her movements were fluid and confident, each motion precise as if she had been doing this her entire life. In contrast, Pacificus struggled with the task, his larger, calloused hands fumbling with the delicate strands. He watched her, captivated by the sight of his lover¡¯s deft hands, realizing that while he could navigate the dangers of the forest with ease, he was outmatched when it came to the finer, more delicate tasks that Merina seemed to master so effortlessly.


    Merina¡¯s focus, her eyes twinkling with delight as she explained the process, only made Pacificus feel more charmed. He found himself smiling at her, a warmth spreading through his chest as he watched her work. Her fingers moved quickly, drawing the silk from the larvae in a continuous, smooth motion, the strands gleaming softly in the muted light. It was as if she were weaving magic from the very air, her presence turning the dark, damp hollow into a place of wonder.


    As the first light of dawn began to filter through the thick canopy of the Ever Resting Forest, the couple dismantled their makeshift door, peeling back the fabric to let the morning¡¯s faint rays penetrate their shelter. The task of freeing Torrent was a familiar one; the Kirin, now more round-bellied from the meal, required a concerted effort to coax and push him through the narrow opening. Pacificus and Merina worked in tandem, laughter escaping their lips as Torrent finally squeezed through, emerging with a satisfied snort and shaking his mane, droplets of morning dew scattering into the air like tiny diamonds.


    With Torrent free, their journey continued. Pacificus moved with the agility of a seasoned forest dweller, his powerful legs propelling him from one massive root to another, Torrent following close behind. Merina rode atop the Kirin with an elegant ease, her form poised and graceful as she navigated the shifting terrain. The forest around them was a living, breathing entity, each step taking them deeper into its heart. The towering trees, ancient and imposing, seemed to stretch endlessly into the heavens, their canopies forming a patchwork of shadows and light. The leaves, massive and verdant, rustled softly above them, a natural umbrella that shielded them from the sun''s harsh rays.


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    On rainy days, the trees served as nature¡¯s waterfalls, their wide leaves catching the downpour and sending streams of water cascading to the ground below. The sound of rushing water filled the air, a constant companion to their travels, mingling with the calls of distant beasts and the creaking of the ancient trunks. The forest was a world of contrasts, both serene and perilous, its beauty laced with the promise of danger. Yet, the couple moved through it as if on a leisurely stroll, their pace unhurried, their spirits light.


    For five months, this had been their routine. Each day they ventured further into the forest''s depths, Pacificus foraging for food, his sharp eyes spotting edible plants and hidden fruits that Merina would document with meticulous care. Her scrolls, now numerous, were filled with sketches and notes, capturing the essence of their journey. Leather bags bulging with her work were strapped to Torrent¡¯s back, each scroll a testament to their adventure and the wonders they had encountered.


    By nightfall, they sought shelter, sometimes finding solace in the cool embrace of a cave, other times in the hollow trunks of the giant trees, their gnarled, ancient interiors offering a safe haven. Occasionally, these shelters were already inhabited by other creatures of the forest, and an unspoken truce would be established, both parties coexisting peacefully under the natural roof. The forest had its own rules, and the couple had learned to respect them, moving quietly and with care, taking only what they needed.


    The nights were a time for passion, their love for each other only growing stronger with each passing day. Their bodies, drawn together by an unspoken need, moved in harmony, their lovemaking a dance that left them breathless and fulfilled. It had become a ritual, a way to unwind and connect after the day''s adventures, the intimacy bringing them closer than ever. The forest seemed to hold its breath during these moments, the sounds of the night mingling with their own, creating a symphony of life that echoed through the trees.


    As they journeyed deeper into the Ever Resting Forest, the landscape grew more surreal. The trees, already massive, loomed even larger, their trunks so wide it would take a dozen men to encircle them. The beasts, too, grew in size and strangeness, their forms both awe-inspiring and terrifying. And yet, for Merina and Pacificus, the forest was their sanctuary, a place of discovery and wonder, where each day brought new sights and new challenges, a world they navigated together, side by side.


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    ¡°Pacy,¡± Merina murmured, the wind gently tousling her hair, which had grown longer over the months. She held Pacificus''s head with one hand, her touch tender yet steady, as she carefully shaved his white beard with a dagger made from the claw of a horn-leaf bear. Her movements were relaxed and precise, each stroke smooth and measured. The blade moved deftly across his skin, catching the light as it swept away the coarse hair. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s... it¡¯s getting more damp and watery the deeper we go?¡±


    Pacificus smiled, a twinkle of knowing in his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s because the Ever Resting Forest, at its heart, is actually a swamp.¡±


    Merina¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. She handed him a fur cloak to dab his freshly shaven chin, her gaze drifting over the vast expanse of the forest. The revelation gave her a new perspective on the landscape around them, her mind painting images of murky waters and dense underbrush hidden beneath the forest¡¯s leafy canopy.


    Beyond the treetops, a gargantuan creature moved with a slow, deliberate grace. Far larger than houses, its body stretched high into the sky, its neck so long that parts of it disappeared into the low-hanging clouds. Ancient trees, their roots entwined in the creature¡¯s thick hide, sprouted from its broad back. The colossus¡¯s steps were monumental, each one carrying it great distances, the ground quaking gently beneath its weight. Its head moved slowly as it grazed on the leaves and fruits of the towering trees, plucking them with a delicate ease that belied its immense size.


    The trees on its back were smaller than those growing from the forest floor, yet still grand in scale. An ecosystem thrived atop this living mountain, a lush plateau where life blossomed. Pacificus often harvested leaves from these trees, casually turning them into tea. Apes, their fur thick and bristling, wielded spears and wore wooden masks as they patrolled their arboreal domain, defending their territory from rival harpies. The harpies, sharp-eyed and agile, carried spears of their own, their wings beating the air in a rhythmic dance of survival and conquest.


    Choosing their resting spot with care, Pacificus and Merina settled on the creature''s massive head, a vantage point like no other. They climbed its neck, which was adorned with thick, house-sized vines that cascaded down like a verdant mane. The vines provided both a pathway and a sanctuary, their leaves whispering in the breeze. As they reached the top, they found themselves enveloped in a world above the world, the ground far below, obscured by the mist of the creature''s breath and the canopy of trees.


    From their perch atop the creature¡¯s head, they gazed out at the endless sea of trees, their tops swaying gently in the breeze. The treetops appeared to stretch infinitely, growing denser and taller as they approached the heart of the forest. Below, the tannin-colored waters moved with a powerful tide, the surface dappled with the reflections of leaves and sky. The floodwaters twisted and turned, carving through the forest with a force that was both captivating and ominous.


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    But how did the couple end up on top of the creature¡¯s head? It was all thanks to Torrent, their ever-curious and sometimes obstinate Kirin. The young Kirin had watched his own kind as they leaped nimbly along the branches, their hooves barely touching the wood before they soared upward, seemingly defying gravity to run through the very skies. The sight ignited a spark of longing in Torrent, a desire to join his brethren among the clouds.


    Pacificus and Merina had always known that Torrent had the potential for such feats, yet they believed his chances were slim. His humongous belly, a result of his insatiable appetite, seemed to keep him grounded. But they underestimated Torrent¡¯s determination and pride. What had been a passing joke, a playful suggestion from Merina about joining the sky-bound Kirins, was taken to heart by Torrent. With a surge of energy and a flick of his gleaming mane, the Kirin launched himself into the air, hooves churning as if running on an invisible path.


    Pacificus barely had time to react. One moment, he was seated comfortably on Torrent¡¯s broad back practicing to ride with Merina, the next, he was clutching desperately at the Kirin¡¯s mane, his knuckles white with the effort to hold on. The ground fell away beneath them, the great branches of the ancient trees becoming a blur. The wind rushed past his ears, whipping his hair into a frenzy as Torrent galloped upward, higher and higher. The sensation was a mix of exhilaration and terror, a wild, uncontrollable ride that sent Pacificus¡¯s stomach lurching with every swoop and dive.


    Merina, riding at the front, felt the thrill of the ascent, her laughter ringing out like a melody lost in the wind. Torrent obeyed her commands without hesitation, the Kirin¡¯s powerful legs pounding against the invisible air beneath them as he climbed. Each step was sure and strong, his hooves and claws sparking against the clouds. The great thunder beast¡¯s head loomed closer, a monumental figure that seemed to grow larger with each passing second.


    For five long hours, Torrent ran through the skies, his stamina unwavering. The journey was both breathtaking and surreal, a dance upon the wind, spiraling around the massive creature¡¯s neck. Pacificus clung tightly to Torrent¡¯s mane, his face pale as he fought to keep his stomach in check. The nausea roiled within him, threatening to spill over, but the sight of Merina¡¯s joy kept him focused. Her hair streamed out behind her, her eyes alight with wonder and excitement. She looked back at him occasionally, her laughter like a balm to his nerves.


    As they neared the thunder beast¡¯s head, the air grew thicker, charged with the energy of the colossal being. Torrent¡¯s hooves beat a steady rhythm, finding purchase even on the intangible substance of the sky. With one final, graceful leap, Torrent landed on the mane that adorned the creature¡¯s neck, his hooves and claws sinking slightly into the dense, vine-like growth. The mane was thick with greenery, vines as thick as a man¡¯s arm twisting through the air, their leaves rustling softly in the wind.


    Torrent came to a stop, his breathing heavy but his spirit high. Pacificus slid off his back, stumbling slightly as his feet touched solid ground again. His legs felt weak, his stomach still queasy from the journey, but the awe of their surroundings quickly overcame his discomfort. He looked up, seeing the sprawling forest canopy below them, the treetops stretching out like a verdant sea. The tannin-colored waters glistened far below, the flood¡¯s tide powerful and unrelenting. It was a view unlike any other, a vantage point that few had ever experienced.


    Merina dismounted with the grace of a dancer, her eyes wide as she took in the panoramic vista. She turned to Pacificus, her face glowing with excitement and a sense of accomplishment. ¡°We made it, Pacy,¡± she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid that speaking too loudly would break the magic of the moment.


    Pacificus could only nod, his heart pounding with a mixture of relief and exhilaration. They had done the impossible, climbed higher than they ever thought possible, all thanks to their loyal and unpredictable Kirin. As they stood together on the great thunder beast¡¯s head, the wind tugging gently at their clothes and hair.


    The best part was that the thunder beast moved steadily in the direction they were headed, following the currents that flowed beneath its massive form. As the days passed, the flooded forest floor gradually gave way to the vast, muddy tannin swamp. Its waters shimmered with the rich, tea-colored hues of decaying leaves, a telltale sign of the swamp¡¯s depths. The colossal beast waded through it all, its long strides carrying it effortlessly across the murky expanse. Seeing this, Pacificus and Merina didn''t hesitate to set up camp on the creature''s head, feeling as though they''d found a drifting paradise amidst the wilderness.


    For weeks, the couple lived atop the thunder beast, relishing the simplicity and peace of their lofty abode. The enormous head provided ample space for them to rest, their tent pitched securely among the thick vines that served as the creature''s mane. At times, they would lie side by side, wrapped in each other''s arms, enjoying the sensation of the world moving beneath them, as if they were sailing atop a living island. They made love beneath the open sky, the stars their only witnesses, feeling utterly untethered from the world below. Their days were spent basking in each other¡¯s presence, their laughter mingling with the rustling of leaves, as they watched the tannin waters grow wider and deeper.


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    The view from the thunder beast¡¯s head was nothing short of spectacular. The ancient trees towered around them, some so tall they cast shadows even upon the beast''s immense form. Though the thunder beast was a giant in its own right, its head held high above the canopy, it was still dwarfed by some of the mightier trees. There were moments when it would stand on its hind legs, its massive form rearing up to nibble at the sweet, tender leaves of the tallest giants. During these times, the couple could feel the slight shift in balance, the creature¡¯s powerful muscles rippling beneath its thick skin as it reached for its leafy prize.


    Food was never a concern. Pacificus found that the thunder beast¡¯s mane was a veritable garden, an ecosystem teeming with life. The vines that draped over the creature¡¯s neck bore clusters of man-eating flowers, their bright petals deceptively beautiful, their scent a tantalizing lure for unsuspecting prey. Pacificus carefully harvested the flowers and used their petals in his cooking, their bitter notes adding complexity to their meals. Beans, which he thought only grew on the backs of moss turtles, flourished here as well, their pods hanging heavily from the vine-laden mane, ready to be picked. They provided a steady supply of protein, their taste hearty and familiar.


    Arachnids, too, thrived in the thick greenery. One day, as Pacificus explored the vibrant ecosystem atop the thunder beast''s head, he came across a giant scorpion, its body as long as his forearm. The creature¡¯s shell gleamed in the dappled sunlight, a mesmerizing iridescence that shifted from green to blue to purple with every subtle movement. The scorpion¡¯s legs were thick and powerful, each one ending in a sharp point capable of piercing the tough foliage. Its pincers were formidable, opening and closing with a soft clicking sound, and its tail, curved over its back, ended in a stinger that glistened with venom.


    Pacificus observed the scorpion carefully, noting its slow, deliberate movements. The scorpion hadn''t expected a threat, moving through the vines in search of prey. With a fluid motion, Pacificus drew his knife, aiming for the scorpion''s vulnerable joint between its body and tail. One well-placed strike, and the scorpion fell, its legs curling inwards as it succumbed to the blow. Satisfied, Pacificus set it aside, knowing the creature would serve as the main ingredient for their next meal.


    Continuing his forage, Pacificus noticed movement among the thick vines¡ªa strange, almost whimsical sight. A walking mushroom, about the size of a small child, ambled across the greenery. Its stem was a pale white, resembling the trunk of a sapling, while its cap was a rich, earthy brown, reminiscent of the fertile soil of the forest floor. The mushroom moved slowly, almost lazily, its cap bobbing with each step as it spread a fine mist of spores. The spores floated through the air, settling on the damp, dead leaves and vines, turning them into fertile ground for more mushrooms to grow.


    Pacificus approached the mushroom carefully, reaching for his mother¡¯s greatsword. He didn''t need to use the blade itself but instead gripped the sword''s blade and used the handguard like a hammer. With a swift, practiced motion, he struck the mushroom¡¯s cap, driving the handguard into its stem. The mushroom let out a soft whistling sound, like a faint, mournful breeze, as it fell, its spores dispersing in a last, futile attempt at survival.


    Back at their camp, Pacificus set about preparing the meal. He started with his large, sturdy pot, filling it with a quart of fresh water. He gathered an assortment of herbs¡ªsome for flavor, others for their subtle, medicinal properties¡ªand dropped them into the pot. The water soon began to simmer, a fragrant steam rising as the herbs released their oils. He carefully cut the tail, claws, and legs from the scorpion, setting them aside to extract every ounce of flavor. He placed the body of the scorpion into the pot, the hot water turning its brown shell a vibrant red as it cooked, similar to how lobsters change color when boiled.


    Next, he turned his attention to the walking mushroom. Its skin was thin and covered in a dusting of spores that had a distinctly musty, earthy smell. Pacificus used his knife to carefully peel away the skin, mindful not to inhale the spores, which he knew from experience could cause a nasty itch if they got into his lungs. He washed his hands thoroughly, ridding them of the remaining spores, before slicing the mushroom into thick, meaty chunks.


    Satisfied with his preparation, Pacificus looked around, spotting a cluster of wild cabbages growing in the shade of a vine. He gathered a few, their leaves broad and green, slightly waxy to the touch. He washed them in a small stream that trickled down from the thunder beast¡¯s mane, then chopped them into bite-sized pieces. Next, he gathered some wild potatoes, their skins rough and their shapes irregular, and cut them into hearty chunks, adding them to the pot along with the cabbage leaves and other wild vegetables he had collected.


    As the stew simmered, Pacificus stirred it with a long-handled spoon, tasting it occasionally. The flavors mingled¡ªearthy from the mushrooms, rich from the scorpion, with a hint of bitterness from the bell leaves and a depth added by the wild herbs. He sprinkled in some of his precious spices, collected from their travels, adding a hint of warmth and complexity to the stew. The scent of the meal filled the air, a mouth-watering aroma that promised comfort and satisfaction.


    Finally, Pacificus added the scorpion meat, which he had chopped into manageable pieces. The scorpion meat was firm, almost like shellfish, and took on the flavors of the stew beautifully. He then added the chunks of walking mushroom, letting them soak up the broth, their texture softening but still retaining a pleasing bite.


    As the stew came to a final boil, thickening to the perfect consistency, Pacificus leaned back, content. The meal was ready, and he knew it would be as hearty and satisfying as any they had shared on their journey.


    Pacificus called out for Merina, expecting her to be lost in her spinning. To his surprise, she had already set up a makeshift loom and spindle, cleverly crafted from fresh wood and vines she had gathered. The loom stood propped against a sturdy vine, the spindle twirling gracefully between her fingers. The green strands of silk she had spun from the larvae glistened in the filtered sunlight, catching the golden rays like strands of emerald thread. Merina looked up, a smile lighting up her face as she saw Pacificus. She set aside her tools and rose, crossing the small clearing atop the thunder beast¡¯s head. The earthy, aromatic scent of the hotpot filled the air, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.


    She reached Pacificus, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. The touch was tender, a silent exchange of warmth and love that had grown deeper with each passing day. They pulled apart, both smiling as they turned their attention to the meal Pacificus had prepared. He ladled the rich, aromatic stew into wooden bowls, the steam rising in delicate wisps, carrying with it the scent of the herbs, scorpion, and wild mushrooms. The sight of the hearty meal made both their mouths water, eager to taste the creation.


    Torrent, their ever-hungry kirin companion, was already settled beside them. His enormous wooden bowl brimming with broth sat before him, the kirin¡¯s nostrils flaring as he inhaled the savory aroma. He lowered his head to lap at the broth, tongue flicking out to catch every drop. The broth was hearty and filled with tender vegetables, much to Torrent¡¯s delight. His eyes closed in bliss as he chewed contentedly, the crunch of vegetables echoing in the quiet air. Occasionally, he picked out pieces of the cooked scorpion, gnashing them between his strong jaws, but it was clear from his expression that he much preferred the taste of the vegetables over the meat.


    Merina and Pacificus shared a laugh, watching the kirin''s discerning eating habits, then turned their attention to their own meal. The scorpion¡¯s shell was hard, requiring a bit of effort to crack open, but the meat inside was worth it. Tender and juicy, it had a slightly sweet flavor, reminiscent of the finest shellfish, with a subtle hint of the wild spices Pacificus had used. The mushrooms added an earthy undertone, balancing the flavors perfectly. They ate slowly, savoring each bite, the warmth of the stew spreading through their bodies.


    As they dined, the couple took in the breathtaking view around them. From their vantage point atop the thunder beast¡¯s head, they could see the vast expanse of the Ever Resting Forest. The giant trees stretched out below, their ancient trunks rising like the pillars of a cathedral, their leaves forming a thick canopy that undulated with the wind. The tannin-stained waters of the swamp glimmered in the distance, reflecting the light of the slowly setting sun. It was a serene and otherworldly landscape, filled with the harmonious sounds of nature¡ªthe calls of distant birds, the rustle of leaves, and the soft bubbling of the swamp below.


    Merina leaned against Pacificus, her head resting on his shoulder, her hand slipping into his. They ate in companionable silence, each content in the other¡¯s presence. The food was delicious, the company perfect, and the view nothing short of magical. For a moment, the dangers of the Ever Resting Forest felt far away, and they were just two lovers sharing a meal in a world all their own.


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    Beneath the canopy of stars, Torrent lay sprawled on the soft, grassy expanse atop the thunder beast¡¯s head, his gleaming scales reflecting the faint light of the moon. The night was cool, the air filled with the scent of damp earth and foliage, and the gentle rustling of the thunder beast¡¯s mane provided a soothing lullaby. It should have been the perfect setting for sleep, yet Torrent found himself wide awake, ears twitching in irritation.


    The source of his annoyance came from the large tent pitched nearby, its fabric fluttering slightly in the night breeze. Inside, the two lovers were lost in an intense display of passion, their silhouettes visible through the thin walls. Pacificus¡¯s body moved over Merina¡¯s, his lips brushing along the curve of her neck, his hands exploring her skin with a reverence that spoke of deep love and devotion. His touch was gentle, even as his desire for her was evident, his weight balanced carefully so as not to overwhelm her. His kisses trailed down her collarbone, each press of his lips a promise, his breath warm against her skin.


    Merina responded in kind, her fingers weaving through Pacificus¡¯s hair, pulling him closer. She tilted her head, giving him better access to the sensitive spot just beneath her ear, which he nibbled and kissed, drawing soft gasps from her lips. Her own mouth sought his neck, her kisses alternating between tender and hungry, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of his earlobe. Her movements were as fluid as water, her body arching into his, matching his rhythm, both giving and receiving pleasure in equal measure. Their breathing mingled, their moans rising into the night, unabashed and raw, a testament to the love they shared.


    Torrent¡¯s ears flicked back, the kirin¡¯s tail swishing in frustration as he listened to the lovers¡¯ passionate noises. Each moan and gasp seemed to echo in his mind, reminding him that sleep would not come easily this night. He let out a heavy sigh, rolling over onto his side, his back to the tent, trying to block out the sounds. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t understand their need to be close, but every night, the same routine, the same loud displays of affection. He huffed, blowing a tuft of grass away from his face, his large eyes narrowing as he cast a glance over his shoulder at the tent.


    With a snort, Torrent buried his head under his foreleg, trying to muffle the sounds. Yet, even through the thick fur and scales, he could still hear them¡ªMerina¡¯s breathy sighs, Pacificus¡¯s low groans. The kirin¡¯s ears twitched again in irritation, his tail lashing against the ground. He was a majestic creature, a proud and noble steed, deserving of the utmost respect and peace. And yet, night after night, he was forced to endure this¡ªlistening to his humans behaving like... beasts.


    He closed his eyes, willing himself to find some semblance of calm. As much as he tried to ignore it, the noises persisted, a reminder of the intimacy that he, with all his wisdom and power, could not comprehend. Perhaps, he mused, it was the humans who were the true beasts, driven by instincts and desires that defied reason. He sighed once more, resigning himself to a night of restless half-sleep, wishing for the dawn to come swiftly. After all, it seemed that while the lovers found solace in each other¡¯s arms, Torrent would have to find his peace in the silence of the stars.

 Chapter 26: Torrent鈥檚 Adventure

    Torrent was indeed a majestic creature, a vision of splendor with his shimmering scales that gleamed in hues of red and green, like a mosaic of precious gems catching the light. His body was a testament to both power and grace, moving on four legs¡ªhis hind legs ending in sturdy hooves, perfect for leaping across the ancient branches of the forest, while his front legs bore sharp claws. His neck, long and powerful, was adorned with a magnificent mane, meticulously cleaned and brushed by his human companions, Pacificus and Merina. The mane flowed down his neck like a waterfall of silk, framing his wolf-like head which was both fearsome and regal. Three pairs of antlers crowned his head, each set more intricate and impressive than the last, like twisted, living branches sprouting from his skull.


    His face, framed by a beard of soft fur that moved gently with the breeze, bore an expression of eternal wisdom, marred only by the occasional twitch of his ears when he was particularly annoyed. His tail, long and thick, was a combination of his scales and fur, a tapestry of nature¡¯s beauty, and an ideal place for storing the reserves of fat that sustained him. This tail, normally a point of pride, was now a stark contrast to the large, round belly that protruded, this distended belly disrupted the otherwise perfect symmetry of his form, hanging down heavily and swaying slightly with each step.


    So what did this majestic creature do? In truth, not much at all. Torrent spent most of his days lounging on top of the thunder beast¡¯s head, basking in the sunlight that filtered through the dense canopy above. His favorite pastime was to nap, stretched out luxuriously on the soft grass that covered the massive creature¡¯s head. His humans, whom he saw as little more than dutiful servants, ensured he was well-fed and hydrated, bringing him meals of wild vegetables, fruits, and occasionally the more succulent parts of whatever creatures Pacificus managed to catch. Torrent would chew lazily, savoring each bite, his jaws working methodically as he enjoyed his meals.


    It was a near-perfect existence, a paradise of sorts, marred only by one significant annoyance: the ceaseless breeding of his human companions. Every night, without fail, they would engage in their ritual of passion, their moans growing louder and more fervent with each passing evening. The sounds carried through the air, piercing the otherwise peaceful night and making it impossible for Torrent to fully relax. He had hoped it was a temporary thing, a phase that would pass, but it seemed the more time passed, the more insistent they became. Recently, they had even taken to doing it outside their tent, as if flaunting their animalistic behavior.


    To Torrent, his humans seemed no better than beasts. They lived to eat, to sleep, and to engage in their strange, incomprehensible acts of intimacy. They had their odd hobbies¡ªMerina with her spinning and Pacificus with his endless digging and burying fruits on it, The two would even sit together starring at nothing ¡ªbut to Torrent, these were mere distractions. Why couldn¡¯t they live as he did? Eat their fill, find a comfortable spot, and sleep away the hours? It was the sensible thing to do. Instead, they indulged in these noisy, restless rituals, disturbing the serenity that Torrent so deeply cherished.


    He would occasionally lift his head, casting a disdainful glance in their direction, his golden eyes narrowing as he watched them with a mixture of irritation and pity. They were like children, ignorant of the true pleasures of life. He would then lay his head back down with a huff, his large body settling into the grass, ears twitching at the sounds of the forest. For now, he could only endure, waiting for the time when they would finally quiet down and the world would return to its rightful order¡ªa silent, peaceful paradise, under the sky.


    Occasionally, Torrent would lift his head from his grassy perch and gaze towards the sky, watching his kind in their element. Kirins, with their graceful forms and shimmering scales, could often be seen running on the skies, their hooves touching invisible paths of air. Most of these Kirins traveled alone, moving swiftly like shooting stars across the sky, while others ran in pairs, their movements synchronized as if performing a celestial dance. It was rare to see them descend to the ground, for a Kirin on the forest floor was often a parent, bound by the duty of protecting its young. A grounded Kirin was a Kirin who would rather face death than allow harm to come to its child. Torrent knew this truth deeply, an unshakeable knowledge embedded in his being from experience.


    He still remembered the day, the memory vivid and sharp as a blade, when his own mother had refused to fly away. A monstrous carnotaur, its scales as dark as night and its roar shaking the very earth, had threatened them. Torrent¡¯s mother, smaller in size but fierce in spirit, had chosen to stand her ground. Instead of fleeing to the safety of the skies, she had confronted the carnotaur head-on, her body a shield between the predator and her fawn. She had fought valiantly, but the carnotaur was relentless. Torrent could still feel the trembling of the earth beneath his hooves, could still hear the sickening sound of tearing flesh, and his mother''s final, anguished cry. Her sacrifice had saved him, but it had cost her life. That day was etched into Torrent''s mind, a day marked by both loss and the birth of a new bond, for it was the same day that Pacificus and Merina had found him, a lone fawn in the wilderness. From that moment on, he had been inseparable from his human companions, finding comfort and solace in their presence.


    Now, as Torrent lounged on the thunder beast¡¯s head, he occasionally spotted Kirin fawns among the thick vines and greenery. These young ones, their scales still soft and shimmering with the innocence of youth, could not yet fly. They roamed cautiously, their small bodies darting between the safety of their mother¡¯s legs. The mothers stayed close, ever watchful, their ears twitching at the slightest sound, ready to defend their fawns at a moment¡¯s notice. The thunder beast¡¯s immense back provided a relatively safe haven, a temporary sanctuary from the dangers that lurked below in the forest.


    The Kirin, by nature, were solitary creatures, each one preferring the freedom of isolation. Yet, even they understood the safety that came with numbers. On the thunder beast¡¯s back, Torrent would sometimes see them form loose herds, groups of three or four moving together, an unspoken agreement of mutual protection. But even within these groups, conflicts arose. He had witnessed fierce battles where pregnant Kirins were driven away by the others, a brutal act to reduce competition for the scarce resources. There were times when mother Kirins fought each other, their antlers clashing with a force that sent sparks flying. These were not mere skirmishes but battles to the death, for survival in the Ever Resting Forest was a constant struggle. The victorious mother often adopted the orphaned fawn, taking the young under her wing, a bittersweet continuation of the cycle of life.


    As their journey on the thunder beast continued, Torrent saw more of these colossal creatures, some smaller, others even larger than the one they rode upon. The forest stretched out endlessly beneath them, a sea of green interspersed with patches of purple flowers. Torrent knew these were not solid ground but floating plants, drifting on the surface of the deep, murky tannin waters that flooded the forest floor. The water was so dark and opaque that even Torrent¡¯s sharp eyes couldn¡¯t pierce its depths to see the roots of the ancient trees. He sensed the waters were deep, impossibly so, swallowing the roots of trees that had stood for millennia, their trunks towering towards the sky like the columns of some forgotten cathedral. The thunder beasts, their massive legs moving slowly and deliberately, waded through these waters as if they were mere puddles.


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    Months had slipped by like leaves on a gentle breeze, and Torrent''s humans continued to be... well, humans. They were always so busy with their strange activities, flitting about like the insects that buzzed around the Thunder Beast¡¯s head. Torrent didn''t understand why they needed to do so much. He did, however, comprehend the construction of the small hut they had built on the Thunder Beast¡¯s head. To Torrent, this was clearly a nest, a cozy place to shelter from the elements, and he appreciated his servants¡¯ generosity in making sure there was room for him inside. It was a comfortable nest indeed, warm and safe, with plenty of space to stretch out his long body. The only issue, and it was a significant one to Torrent, was that his humans couldn¡¯t seem to stop breeding. Their constant, nightly activity was a source of both annoyance and bewilderment to him, the noise disturbing the peace he so valued.


    To escape, Torrent would spend his days basking in the sun, letting its warmth soak into his shimmering scales, enjoying the softness of the grass beneath him. The expanse of green on the Thunder Beast¡¯s head was his personal paradise, and he took full advantage of it. He relished the feel of the grass against his scales and the breeze ruffling his mane. Life was good, simple, and unburdened. His humans occasionally attended to him, brushing his mane and polishing his scales, which was one of Torrent¡¯s favorite pastimes. Their gentle hands were soothing, and he would often close his eyes in contentment, his large body relaxing under their touch.


    One day, as he lay there, eyes half-closed, feeling the rhythmic strokes of Pacificus¡¯s hand combing through his mane, Torrent felt something land atop his head. The sensation was unfamiliar, a soft, cool patter against his scales. He blinked his golden eyes open and tilted his head back, gazing up to see dark clouds rolling overhead. This was unusual; it typically rained below them, not above. The sight of the heavy, dark clouds surprised Torrent, and before he could ponder further, the rain began to fall. Large droplets splattered down, soaking his mane and scales, turning the grass beneath him into a slick, shimmering carpet.


    As the rain poured down, Torrent caught a whiff of something irresistible drifting from the hut. Despite the rain, the scent cut through the air, making his nose twitch with interest. Pacificus was cooking again, and Torrent knew from the aroma alone that it would be delicious. His human had always been a skilled cook, capable of making even the simplest ingredients into a feast fit for a king. Today, he was preparing Torrent¡¯s favorite meal¡ªvegetable stew. The scent of simmering greens, wild herbs, and fragrant spices wafted through the air, making Torrent¡¯s mouth water. He knew from the plate set aside that he would be eating more than just vegetables today. There were giant grasshoppers as well.


    Torrent could see the preparation from his spot near the hut''s entrance. The grasshoppers were enormous, each one as long as Pacificus¡¯s arm and thick as a small tree branch. Their spindly legs and heads had been removed, and now they were skewered on sturdy sticks, positioned near the flames to roast. The heat caused the exoskeletons to crackle and turn a deep, crispy brown, releasing a savory, nutty aroma. Although Torrent preferred the rich, earthy flavor of vegetables, he wouldn¡¯t say no to the roasted grasshoppers. He knew, instinctively, that the heat from the flames would make them more delicious, turning their meat tender and their shells crisp. He could almost taste the crunch in his mouth.


    And then, the moment Torrent had been eagerly anticipating arrived. Pacificus placed a large wooden bowl in front of the Kirin, steam rising from its brim. Torrent''s eyes widened as Pacificus ladled generous portions of the thick, aromatic stew into the bowl. Beside it, a smaller bowl held the roasted crickets, their crispy shells gleaming in the firelight. But Torrent''s attention was fixed on the stew. The rich, savory scent of it filled his nostrils, making his mouth water even more. He leaned in, his large tongue darting out to lap at the broth.


    The first mouthful was heaven, the warmth and flavors spreading across his tongue. Torrent had forgotten just how hot the stew was, and he quickly pulled back, blowing steam out of his nostrils, his tongue hanging out in an attempt to cool it. Once the initial burn faded, he resumed eating, more cautiously this time, gently blowing on each mouthful before devouring it. He slurped up chunks of vegetables and mushrooms, his teeth crunching through the softened bits with relish. The taste was exquisite¡ªearthy and robust, with a hint of sweetness from the roots and the depth of the wild herbs that Pacificus had added. Torrent savored every bite, letting out small satisfied grunts as he ate.


    Outside, the rain continued to pour, drumming a steady rhythm on the roof of the hut. It created a cozy cocoon for Torrent and his humans. Inside, warmth from the fire spread through the space, casting a soft glow on the wooden walls. Pacificus and Merina sat close together, sharing their meal, smiles on their faces as they exchanged quiet conversation. Their voices were a comforting murmur, blending with the patter of the rain and the crackling of the fire.


    With his bowl finally empty, Torrent licked the last traces of broth from the sides, his stomach pleasantly full. He let out a satisfied huff, his long tail swishing contentedly across the floor. The warm, heavy feeling of the meal made his eyelids droop, and he considered stretching out for a nap. He turned in a slow circle on his bedding, his claws clicking softly against the wooden floor, before settling down with a heavy thud.


    But as Torrent nestled into his cozy spot, he remembered with a sinking feeling the inevitable horror that awaited him. The rain outside meant that he couldn''t go out to escape the noise, and night was fast approaching. Soon, his two humans would do what they always did at night¡ªengage in their strange, noisy ritual of breeding. Torrent''s eyes widened in dismay, his peaceful moment shattered by the realization. He gave a small whine, turning his head away from Pacificus and Merina, who were still engrossed in each other. His tail came up to cover his head, a makeshift barrier against the sounds he knew were coming. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will himself to sleep, hoping to escape into dreams before the noise began. The sound of the rain and the warmth of the fire were his only comforts as he huddled under his tail, his majestic scales glistening in the firelight, wishing for peace and quiet.


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    Morning arrived, bringing with it a crisp, dewy freshness in the air, as the rain had finally ceased. Torrent stepped out of the humans¡¯ hut, the scent of damp earth and wet grass filling his nostrils. His fur shimmered with droplets, glistening like tiny diamonds against his red and green scales. The first rays of the sun were just beginning to pierce through the lingering clouds, casting a golden hue over the vast expanse of greenery that stretched out before him. He was grateful for the end of the rain; it meant more freedom to roam and munch on the succulent grass that grew in abundance.


    He ambled to a patch of particularly lush grass, lowering his head to take a bite. His powerful jaws closed around the tender blades, the crunch of the grass audible as he chewed. Each bite was a reminder of the simple joys of his life¡ªeating, resting, and the occasional grooming session by his human servants. Life was good, he thought, if only those two would stop their nightly breeding.


    He glanced toward the hut, spotting Pacificus, the man responsible for Torrent''s sleepless nights, emerging first as always. Pacificus was already busy, gathering berries and wild herbs from the thunder beast¡¯s mane. Torrent grudgingly acknowledged the usefulness of Pacificus''s early rising; it often meant fresh food, something Torrent deeply appreciated. His eyes then moved to Merina, who followed shortly after. She stretched lazily as she stepped outside, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders. To Torrent, Merina was a curious creature. Unlike Pacificus, she often busied herself with strange tasks¡ªconstructing odd contraptions inside or outside the hut. Torrent didn¡¯t understand the purpose of these activities, but he knew they involved the soft, strange material that humans covered themselves with. He pitied them for their lack of fur, understanding instinctively why they needed to use other creatures¡¯ pelts to keep warm. Humans were such peculiar, hairless creatures, he mused.


    As he chewed on another mouthful of grass, his jaws working rhythmically, Torrent suddenly felt something sharp against his muzzle. Startled, he jerked back, his scales rattling slightly. There, just a few paces away, stood another creature. Torrent¡¯s heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight before him.


    It was her.


    The beast stood elegantly in the morning light, her coat gleaming with a mixture of brown and black scales that blended seamlessly with the foliage around her. A long, slender horn protruded from her forehead, curving gracefully upward. Her mane, though less pristine than Torrent''s, was still majestic, flowing down her neck like a waterfall of silken strands. Her eyes, soft and alert like those of a doe, regarded Torrent with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. She had claws on her front legs and hooves on her back, just like him. Her fur, though in need of a good cleaning, added a rugged charm to her appearance, emphasizing the wild, untamed nature of the forest she called home. Her tail, long and elegantly furred, swayed gently behind her.


    Both Kirins stood there, frozen for a moment, each with a mouthful of grass, staring at one another. Torrent¡¯s initial shock was slowly replaced with a sense of awe and caution. He had never expected to encounter another of his kind so close, especially not here.


    Remembering the tales of fiercely protective mothers, Torrent''s gaze swept the ground around her. She must have a fawn nearby, he realized. The instinct to avoid conflict with a mother Kirin was strong. He had no desire to test her temper or provoke a confrontation, especially if a young one was involved. Slowly, he took a step back, his ears flicking nervously. The female Kirin continued to watch him, her expression unreadable. He lowered his head in a gesture of respect, chewing and swallowing the last of his grass before turning to leave her in peace. He had no intention of inciting her wrath. His instincts told him to move away, to give her space, and so he did, retreating quietly back to the familiar comfort of his grazing spot, his heart still racing from the unexpected encounter.


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    Torrent was greedily munching on some wild berries he found growing on a bush, their sweet and tart juices bursting in his mouth with every bite. He had seen Pacificus eating these berries many times, savoring their flavor, but Merina never touched them. Torrent couldn¡¯t understand why the lady human avoided such a delicious treat, but her indifference meant more berries for him, and he wasn¡¯t complaining. He plucked another handful with his sharp teeth, savoring the sweet nectar as it dribbled down his chin, his eyes half-closed in contentment.


    As he gorged himself, Torrent¡¯s ears suddenly twitched, picking up the faint sound of movement. He sensed an intruder. His eyes darted up from the berry bush, muscles tensing, as he scanned the surrounding area. There she was again, the female Kirin. Her presence sent a ripple of tension through him. She moved gracefully among the foliage, her sleek body blending with the shadows and dappled light. Torrent knew she must be a mother, foraging to protect and nourish her fawn. Respectfully, he stepped away from the bush, giving her space to eat. He had no desire to challenge her, knowing full well the fierce protectiveness of a mother Kirin.


    With the female Kirin occupied, Torrent wandered back to his favorite spot. It was a small clearing, just wide enough to let a few beams of sunlight filter through the dense canopy above. The ancient trees loomed overhead, their trunks thick and gnarled, their branches stretching towards the sky as if trying to touch the sun. Torrent settled down on the soft grass, basking in the warmth of the sun, even if only a fraction of its light reached him through the towering forest.


    Just as he was drifting off into a comfortable slumber, his ears twitched again. This time, it wasn''t a soft rustling that caught his attention, but a heavy, rhythmic thudding. The ground beneath him vibrated slightly, sending a shiver through his body. Torrent stood up, his muscles taut, nostrils flaring as he scented the air. The vibration grew stronger, and then he saw it¡ªa figure emerging from the underbrush.


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    It was another Kirin, a male this time. Torrent''s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the newcomer. This Kirin, like him, had three sets of antlers, each set branching out like the limbs of an ancient tree. His head was distinctly wolfish, his muzzle long and sharp, and his eyes gleaming with a wild, untamed light. His mane rippled down his neck, a cascade of fur that glistened with the hues of his scales¡ªvivid yellow and deep blue, a striking contrast to Torrent¡¯s own red and green.


    The male Kirin stepped forward, his gaze locked onto Torrent, muscles rippling under his scales. Without warning, the stranger let out a low snarl, baring his sharp teeth. The sound was a deep rumble, echoing through the clearing and vibrating in Torrent¡¯s chest. Immediately, Torrent¡¯s mane bristled, rising in a display of warning. His scales rustled, shifting slightly to reveal the intricate patterns beneath¡ªscales that formed the shapes of eyes, each one gleaming with a menacing light, as if countless unseen beings were staring down their intruder. The eyes, red and green, contrasted sharply against the yellow and blue of the other Kirin, their colors a vivid testament to the rivalry brewing between them.


    Torrent¡¯s posture stiffened, his head lowered in a defensive stance. He didn¡¯t want to fight, but he was ready if the intruder pushed. His tail lashed behind him, the fur bristling, his claws digging into the earth as he held his ground. The clearing seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with the tension of two powerful creatures facing off, each assessing the other, waiting to see who would make the first move.


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    The intruder moved swiftly, faster than Torrent had anticipated. With a feral snarl, he lunged forward, his sharp claws gleaming as they raked across Torrent¡¯s side. The impact was powerful, sending a shock of pain through Torrent¡¯s body as the claws dug deep into his scales. His natural armor, usually a reliable defense, was not enough to completely fend off the vicious attack. Blood seeped from the gashes, staining his red and green scales with a dark crimson hue.


    Before Torrent could fully react, the other Kirin had latched onto his neck, his jaws snapping shut with a crushing force. Torrent felt the pressure against his throat, but his thick mane provided a vital buffer. The strands of fur and scales absorbed most of the bite, keeping the sharp teeth from piercing his vulnerable flesh. The scent of blood filled the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the forest, adding a coppery tang to the wind.


    Torrent¡¯s eyes blazed with fury. The pain ignited a primal rage deep within him, a fire that burned through his veins. With a fierce roar, he retaliated, lashing out with his own claws. His front legs moved with surprising speed for a creature of his size, his claws striking the intruder¡¯s shoulder and tearing through the yellow and blue scales. The sound of ripping flesh was followed by a high-pitched yelp as the intruder stumbled back, Torrent''s claws leaving a trail of blood across his hide.


    The battle intensified, each Kirin a whirlwind of motion and aggression. They reared up on their hind legs, clashing like titans, each trying to overpower the other. Torrent''s claws swiped through the air, meeting the intruder¡¯s blows with equal ferocity. Their bodies collided, the impact resonating through the clearing like thunder. The once peaceful grassy field was quickly being transformed into a battlefield, the grass torn and matted with blood. Red and green scales mixed with yellow and blue, each slash of claws adding to the tapestry of violence that marked the ground.


    Torrent¡¯s fat reserves became his unexpected armor. Every time the intruder''s claws dug into him, they met the resistance of Torrent''s thick layer of fat, absorbing much of the damage. The wounds stung, but they weren¡¯t deep enough to be fatal. In contrast, the intruder¡¯s leaner form offered less protection. Each blow Torrent landed was met with a wince, each bite left a deeper wound.


    Torrent¡¯s weight proved to be his greatest advantage. He knew he was heavier, and he used that to his benefit. Seizing a moment of weakness, Torrent charged, his powerful legs propelling him forward. The ground shook beneath his bulk as he barreled into the intruder, knocking the Kirin off balance. Torrent¡¯s momentum carried them both to the ground, his larger frame pinning the intruder beneath him. The intruder struggled, his claws scrabbling at Torrent''s scales, but it was no use. Torrent''s weight was too much to overcome.


    With a final, furious roar, Torrent pressed down, his full weight pinning the intruder to the ground. The other Kirin let out a pained grunt, his struggles growing weaker as he realized the futility of his situation. Torrent''s jaws snapped close to the intruder''s neck, a warning that the battle was over. The intruder''s yellow and blue scales, now streaked with blood, glistened under the filtered sunlight, his body going still beneath Torrent¡¯s dominance.


    Victory was his. Torrent stood over his opponent, his chest heaving, his own wounds burning but manageable. The intruder lay beneath him, defeated, the fight drained from his eyes. Torrent let out a final, triumphant roar that echoed through the forest, a declaration of his strength and dominance. The other Kirin would leave, knowing not to challenge him again.


    When Torrent returned to his humans, he saw their eyes widen in shock, their hands halting mid-task. Pacificus dropped the bundle of herbs he was sorting, while Merina''s weaving fell from her fingers. Both rushed toward him, their faces a mix of horror and worry, their gazes locked on the wounds that marred his majestic scales. Blood dripped from his sides and matted his fur, a vivid testament to the ferocity of his recent battle.


    Pacificus wasted no time, grabbing a cloth to press against the deepest of the wounds, his hands steady despite the concern etched on his face. Merina moved quickly to gather the herbs she knew could help stem the bleeding and ease the pain. They worked together in silence, the air thick with unspoken fear. They wrapped the wounds with strips of cloth soaked in herbal poultices, the scent of healing herbs mingling with the coppery smell of blood. Torrent stood still, enduring their ministrations with the patience of one who knew these were necessary, even if he considered the injuries mere scratches. His muscles ached, and every movement sent a jolt of pain through his body, but he stood proud and unbowed.


    Afterward, they fed him a bowl of warm, nourishing soup, the broth rich and hearty. Torrent lapped it up, the warmth spreading through his body, dulling the sharp edges of his pain. He appreciated his humans'' care; they were diligent, attending to his wounds with a gentleness that belied their earlier shock. Though his body hurt, he knew he would recover. For Torrent, these injuries were marks of honor, proof of his strength and the battles he had fought and won.


    Once patched up, Torrent went back to his favorite spot to nibble on some wild berries. The bushes were laden with ripe, juicy berries, their sweet scent enticing. As he approached, his ears pricked up, sensing another presence. To his surprise, the lady Kirin was there, her elegant form bending gracefully as she ate the berries. Her mane flowed in the breeze, and her single horn gleamed in the filtered sunlight. Startled, Torrent paused. He didn¡¯t want to provoke another confrontation, especially not so soon after his last battle. With a cautious step backward, he retreated, searching for another bush to satisfy his hunger.


    He wandered a bit before finding a patch of wild man-eating flowers, their large, pot-like blooms swaying gently in the wind. Torrent eyed them with a hint of glee, knowing these flowers made a delicious snack. Their petals were thick and fleshy, their nectar sweet. As he tore into one, he relished the burst of flavor, his teeth crunching through the thick petals with satisfaction.


    Just as he was enjoying his meal, another presence landed nearby, the ground trembling slightly beneath the weight. Torrent turned to see a male Kirin, this one sporting blue and red scales that shimmered like jewels in the dappled light. The intruder¡¯s eyes gleamed with hostility, and a low growl rumbled from his throat, echoing the sound of distant thunder. Memories of his recent battle surged back into Torrent¡¯s mind. His wounds were still fresh, his body not yet fully recovered, and he had no desire for another fight. Yet, the thought of running didn¡¯t sit well with him. He had his human servants to protect, and the territory he¡¯d come to consider his own.


    The two Kirin faced off, the air between them crackling with tension. Torrent¡¯s mane bristled, his scales shifting as if readying themselves for combat. The blue-and-red Kirin bared his teeth, a snarl curling his lips, and then lunged forward. Torrent met the attack head-on, his own claws slashing through the air. The battle was just as brutal as the last, each Kirin using their claws and teeth in a flurry of strikes. Torrent¡¯s already sore muscles screamed in protest, each movement a reminder of the pain still radiating from his previous injuries. Blood sprayed across the grass as claws met flesh, the ground beneath them quickly turning into a chaotic mix of green, red, and blue.


    But this time, Torrent was quicker to use his greatest assets: his immense fat and weight. He dodged a swipe from the intruder¡¯s claws, sidestepping to throw the other Kirin off balance. Then, with a powerful surge, Torrent rammed his body against the intruder, using his full weight to push him down. The blue-and-red Kirin stumbled, his footing faltering under the unexpected force. Torrent seized the opportunity, throwing his bulk onto his opponent and pinning him to the ground. The other Kirin struggled, his claws scrabbling against the earth, but Torrent held firm, his weight pressing down with crushing finality.


    Defeated, the intruder let out a pained yelp before Torrent allowed him to rise. Bloodied and battered, the blue-and-red Kirin turned and fled, disappearing into the forest. Torrent watched him go, his chest heaving with exertion, his body once again marked by the scars of battle. His mane was disheveled, tangled with blood and dirt, and his wounds throbbed with fresh pain. But he had won. He had defended his territory and his humans. As he stood there, victorious yet weary, Torrent let out a low, rumbling growl, a reminder to any others that he was not to be trifled with.


    Torrent returned to his humans once more, his body bearing fresh wounds, the evidence of yet another battle with a rival Kirin. His scales were scratched and his mane disheveled, patches of fur stained with blood. Pacificus and Merina immediately sprang into action, their faces etched with concern as they began tending to his injuries. They had become accustomed to this routine, the constant vigilance required to keep Torrent safe. Bandages and herbs became a staple, their scent lingering around the camp. Pacificus cleaned the wounds with gentle, practiced hands, applying healing poultices, while Merina wrapped his injuries in soft cloths, her fingers deft and sure.


    Despite their care, Torrent found himself repeatedly under attack. Whenever he wandered away from the camp, another Kirin would find him, launching into a fierce battle. The pattern became all too familiar: Torrent would fend off the attackers, using his bulk and strength to protect himself, then limp back to his humans to be patched up once more. This relentless cycle stretched on for over a month. Pacificus grew increasingly protective, refusing to leave Torrent¡¯s side, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. He would only step away when he was certain the area was safe, but inevitably, the attacks came when Torrent was alone, prowling the forest or basking in the sun.


    However, the constant battles began to have an unexpected effect on Torrent. The once plump and rotund Kirin, known for his round belly and lazy demeanor, started to change. Each fight forced him to be more agile, more aggressive, and more aware of his surroundings. His muscles hardened, growing beneath his scales. His body shed the excess fat, replacing it with thick, powerful muscles. His legs became sturdier, his neck more defined. Torrent¡¯s frame expanded, growing broader and more imposing. His back arched with newfound strength, and his mane, once purely decorative, now framed a neck that rippled with muscle. He no longer resembled the slightly chubby Kirin he once was; now, he had the appearance of a fierce, wingless dragon. His transformation was so dramatic that other Kirins began to think twice before challenging him. His sheer size and the confidence with which he carried himself acted as a deterrent.


    Still, there were some who dared to test him, Kirins that still challenged his claim to the territory. Torrent had learned from his many battles, mastering the art of using his size and weight to his advantage. He would pin his opponents down, his massive form pressing them into submission. His muscles rippled with each movement, his powerful legs and sharp claws ready to defend his ground. The once soft underbelly was now a solid wall of muscle, a testament to the battles he had endured and the strength he had gained.


    His fur and scales began to recover, regaining their former luster. His red and green scales shimmered once more, glinting in the sunlight like polished gemstones. His mane, though a bit more rugged, still flowed with a wild grace, a stark contrast to his now muscular physique. His growth was due in large part to his humans, the two beings he trusted most. Pacificus had recognized Torrent¡¯s need for sustenance to maintain his strength and continued to provide him with ample food. Every meal was hearty, filled with nutrients to aid in his recovery and fortify his body. Torrent ate greedily, his hunger insatiable, knowing that his weight was one of his greatest weapons.


    Merina¡¯s care ensured that his wounds were always treated, her gentle hands cleaning his bandages and applying fresh herbs. She watched over him with a protective gaze, her worry evident every time he returned from a battle. Torrent appreciated their attention and the effort they put into keeping him safe and strong. It was their dedication that kept him fighting, their presence a reminder of what he was defending.


    To avoid being caught off guard, Torrent took to the skies more often, his powerful legs launching him into flight. He would soar above the treetops, running among the clouds, his eyes scanning the terrain below for any signs of intruders. His vigilance paid off, giving him the upper hand in many of the encounters. There was not a day that passed without a fight, each one pushing him further, making him stronger.


    The constant battles and the care of his humans had transformed Torrent. He was no longer the lazy Kirin who lounged in the sun with a full belly. Now, he was a formidable presence, a protector of his territory, his muscles rippling with strength, his body marked with the scars of his victories.


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    Though Torrent had faced many Kirins in battle and emerged victorious, there was one Kirin he dared not trifle with. This female Kirin, with her majestic single horn and a coat that blended seamlessly into the forest''s shadows, was an enigma. She was different from the other Kirins Torrent had encountered. Unlike the aggressive males that challenged him, she rarely flew, preferring instead to stay on the ground, indulging in the abundant vegetation. Her demeanor was calm, almost indifferent, and she showed no fear in approaching Torrent, even when his scales bristled with warning. Her lack of fear made Torrent wary. Whenever she drew near, he would cautiously move away, preferring to keep his distance.


    Having been raised among humans, Torrent did not fully understand the ways of his kind. His memories of Kirins were clouded by the time when he was just a fawn, vulnerable and frightened. The sight of his mother defending him from a carnotaur and the feeling of her absence were still fresh in his mind. The world of Kirins was one he had left behind, and his time with Pacificus and Merina had shaped him into something different. So, when this female Kirin entered his territory, Torrent''s instincts were conflicted. He could not read her intentions, and that made him uneasy.


    One day, while Torrent was enjoying a meal of wild cabbages, the familiar rustle of leaves made him look up. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her approaching, her movements deliberate and unhurried. He swallowed hard, feeling the tension coil within him. Startled, he instinctively backed away, wanting to put distance between them. But she blocked his path, her body moving fluidly to cut off his escape.


    Torrent''s heart pounded in his chest, his eyes wide with apprehension. He had fought off numerous Kirins, his size and strength unmatched, but this Kirin made him nervous in a way he couldn¡¯t understand. Despite his larger size, he felt small and vulnerable. He continued to retreat, his steps awkward and uncertain, his body brushing against a large tree trunk. He was cornered. There was no way out. The realization made his heart race even faster, a mixture of fear and confusion coursing through him.


    The female Kirin moved closer, her gaze fixed on him. Her movements were graceful, her expression calm. Torrent could do nothing but watch as she leaned her head towards him, her muzzle just inches from his. Her breath was warm, her presence overwhelming. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, the soft rustle of her mane in the breeze. Torrent¡¯s eyes darted around in panic, desperately searching for an escape, a way out of this encounter. His gaze fell upon the bushes nearby, where he spotted Pacificus and Merina. Relief flooded him for a moment. His humans were there, watching. Surely, they would help him.


    He looked at them with pleading eyes, silently begging for their intervention. But his hopes were dashed when he saw Merina¡¯s response. She was smiling, her eyes twinkling with amusement. To Torrent¡¯s dismay, she raised both her thumbs, a gesture of encouragement. Pacificus stood beside her, nodding in agreement, his face relaxed and unconcerned. They seemed to find the whole situation amusing, as if there was nothing to worry about.


    Torrent¡¯s heart sank, his fear replaced by a sinking realization. His humans were not going to help him. They seemed to think this was some kind of harmless interaction, a moment to be observed and enjoyed. But Torrent didn¡¯t understand. What did this female Kirin want? Why was she so fearless in his presence? He felt trapped, his instincts pulling him in different directions. The confusion was almost unbearable. His muscles tensed, his breathing quick and shallow.


    With no choice left, Torrent stood still, his body pressed against the tree, his eyes never leaving the female Kirin''s. He was at her mercy, unsure of what would happen next.


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    Then, it happened. The female Kirin leaned in closer, her eyes half-closed, and from her mouth, her tongue flicked out, gently brushing against Torrent¡¯s face. The warm, wet sensation of her tongue was surprising, and he stood still, too bewildered to react. She licked him again, long, deliberate strokes that covered his face in her saliva. Torrent¡¯s eyes widened in shock. Was she¡­ cleaning him? It was a thought that both confused and calmed him. Her tongue moved over his scales, leaving a damp, glistening trail. In the midst of his confusion, a peculiar warmth spread through him, making his heart beat faster.


    Instinctively, Torrent decided to reciprocate. He extended his own tongue, tentatively licking her face in return. She seemed pleased, her eyes softening, and responded by nuzzling against him. She pressed her cheek to his, their scales brushing together in a gentle, intimate caress. Her neck arched, and she rubbed against him, her mane mingling with his, creating a soft rustling sound. Torrent felt a strange mixture of confusion and contentment. He blinked, his large eyes darting to his humans for some kind of explanation.


    Pacificus and Merina stood a little way off, observing with amused expressions. Merina was smiling broadly, a hint of laughter in her eyes. Pacificus had an approving nod, his arms crossed casually. Torrent sighed inwardly. They were useless, he thought, utterly useless. Instead of providing answers, they seemed to find his predicament entertaining. Whatever was happening, he would have to figure it out on his own.


    The following day unfolded much like the last. Torrent found himself in yet another skirmish with a male Kirin, his body moving with practiced ease to fend off the intruder. The battle was brief, and once he had driven the Kirin away, he returned to the bushes where the female Kirin was waiting. Together, they shared a meal of wild vegetables, munching contentedly side by side. The female Kirin¡¯s presence was becoming a comforting routine, a peaceful contrast to the constant challenges he faced. As they ate, Torrent occasionally glanced back, spotting his humans lingering not far behind.


    Merina, as always, was busy with her strange hobbies. She held a piece of paper, her hand moving rhythmically with a stick of black wood, scratching out markings that meant nothing to Torrent. He had seen her do this countless times, her eyes focused, lost in whatever it was she found so fascinating. Humans, he mused, shaking his head. They always found something odd to occupy their time.


    Over the days, Torrent found himself growing more accustomed to the female Kirin¡¯s company. She was different from the others¡ªcalm, gentle, and non-threatening. He began to look forward to their shared moments, her presence a soothing balm to the endless cycle of conflict. He noticed details about her he hadn¡¯t before, like the way her eyes sparkled when she was content or how her ears twitched at the sound of his voice.


    Then there was her mane. Torrent found himself drawn to its scent, a fragrance that was unlike anything he had ever encountered. It wasn¡¯t floral or herbal; it was uniquely hers¡ªan earthy, comforting aroma that made his senses tingle. He couldn''t explain why, but the smell was intoxicating, pulling him closer to her. Without realizing it, he had begun to lean in just to catch a whiff of her scent, a strange but pleasant habit that filled him with a quiet joy.


    It didn¡¯t take long before Torrent¡¯s instincts began to awaken. There was a growing understanding within him, a realization that made him see the female Kirin in a new light. Her presence became more than just comforting; it became necessary. He felt a bond forming, something deeper than mere companionship. As the days passed, he found himself following her lead, mirroring her actions, his heart swelling with a feeling he couldn¡¯t quite name.


    In the midst of this, Torrent began to understand something he hadn¡¯t before. The endless displays of affection between Pacificus and Merina, the way they always seemed to be close, the sounds that drifted from their tent at night¡ªit all started to make sense. A knowing settled over him, an instinctual realization that went beyond words. For the first time, Torrent understood why his humans never seemed to stop breeding. And as he nuzzled against the female Kirin, inhaling the sweet scent of her mane, he found that he didn¡¯t mind understanding at all.

 Chapter 27: Home

    Torrent had found a lady Kirin. Pacificus and Merina had been tailing him for weeks now, shadowing his every move through the Ever Resting Forest. What had begun as a way to keep their beloved Kirin safe from harm soon revealed a more profound reason for Torrent''s frequent skirmishes. The moment they saw the female Kirin, elegant and ethereal, everything fell into place. Torrent wasn''t just fighting for survival; he was competing for affection. The Lady Kirin, with her graceful form and gentle demeanor, had captured his attention¡ªand apparently, that of several other Kirin males.


    Recognizing Torrent''s determination, Pacificus and Merina sprang into action. Pacificus hunted and foraged with renewed vigor, gathering everything the forest could offer to nourish their friend. He meticulously prepared meals rich in nutrients to fuel Torrent¡¯s strength and stamina, ensuring he had the energy to emerge victorious from his battles. Each meal was a carefully curated feast designed to fortify Torrent¡¯s body, to transform him from the plump, lovable Kirin they had known into a formidable contender.


    Meanwhile, Merina focused on his care after the battles. She collected herbs and boiled them with fresh cloths, creating soothing balms and bandages to patch Torrent¡¯s wounds. After every fight, she was ready, hands steady and eyes determined as she cleaned and dressed his injuries. Her touch was gentle yet firm, and Torrent found comfort in her care, even as he grumbled about the sting of the antiseptic herbs. It became a routine: a battle, a victory, a return to Merina and Pacificus, and their diligent tending to his wounds.


    The results of their efforts were remarkable. Torrent transformed before their eyes, his body reshaping with each passing day. His once chubby form, endearing in its own right, melted away to reveal rippling muscles beneath. His frame broadened, his neck thickened, and his limbs grew more robust. He was now twice the size of an average Kirin, his silhouette striking and powerful. Torrent¡¯s mane flowed like a river of emerald and gold, and he had even grown a long, majestic beard, which Merina took to grooming meticulously. She would brush it until it shone, taking great pride in his appearance. Every tuft of fur and scale was cleaned and preened, as Torrent had to look his best for the lady Kirin who had stolen his heart.


    For weeks, Pacificus and Merina devoted themselves to him, their bond with Torrent growing deeper with each act of care. They followed him like silent shadows, watching his every move. They allowed him to fight, knowing he needed to, but they were always ready to rush to his side afterward, to heal and strengthen him. They fed him generously, making sure he was never without the fuel he needed. Under their watchful eyes, Torrent¡¯s scars from his many battles healed, leaving faint marks that spoke of his strength and endurance. To Pacificus and Merina, these scars were not blemishes but badges of honor, symbols of the powerful Kirin their friend had become.


    The transformation was undeniable. Torrent stood taller, prouder, his presence commanding. He was more than just a Kirin now¡ªhe had become a living embodiment of the forest¡¯s might, a creature of beauty and strength. His muscles rippled beneath his scales as he moved, and his eyes held a wisdom that belied his years. He looked every bit like an ancient, wingless dragon, exuding an air of authority and grace. His very aura spoke of power, and those who saw him could not help but be awed. He was a majestic sight to behold, a true King of the Ever Resting Forest.


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    But even a King needs a Queen.


    Pacificus and Merina watched in anticipation as Torrent approached the lady Kirin. The aftermath of his latest battle still clung to him¡ªhis mane rugged, and his eyes were bright with determination. His muscles rippled under his emerald and crimson scales, a testament to the many skirmishes he had endured. The lady Kirin moved towards him with a measured grace, her own mane shimmering like dark velvet in the muted light of the forest. Her eyes were deep and knowing, like the calm surface of a hidden spring, and they never wavered from Torrent¡¯s as she drew closer.


    The couple exchanged a glance, feeling the tension in the air. Torrent, their once chubby companion, now stood tall and muscular, a commanding presence that exuded both power and grace. Yet, as much as his exterior had changed, they could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He hesitated, his movements more cautious than bold. Despite his newfound strength and size, he still harbored the shy heart of the Kirin they had come to know and love. He began to back away, his eyes darting nervously between the lady Kirin and the forest around him.


    Merina squeezed Pacificus¡¯s hand, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Look, Pacy,¡± she murmured, leaning closer. ¡°She¡¯s making the move.¡± Her eyes sparkled with excitement, a smile playing at her lips.


    Pacificus nodded, his gaze fixed on Torrent. ¡°It¡¯s all up to him now,¡± he replied softly. He could sense Torrent¡¯s conflict, the instinct to run battling with the newfound feelings he didn¡¯t quite understand. His ears flicked back and forth, and he glanced towards his humans, his eyes silently pleading for reassurance.


    Catching his gaze, Merina smiled encouragingly, lifting her thumbs up in a gesture of support. ¡°You got this,¡± she mouthed silently, her face beaming with pride and affection.


    Torrent seemed to draw courage from her silent encouragement. He turned back to the lady Kirin, as she closed the distance between them, her muzzle touched his neck, her tongue darting out to lick his face. The gesture was tender, a promise and a declaration all in one. Torrent blinked in surprise, his eyes wide. Her tongue slid over his scales again, the touch both soothing and electric, sending a shiver through him.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Pacificus breathed. ¡°She chose him.¡±


    Merina¡¯s hand tightened around his, her smile widening. ¡°So that¡¯s how they court each other,¡± she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. She watched as Torrent hesitated for a moment longer, then leaned in to return the gesture. His own tongue brushed against her scales, tentative at first but growing bolder as she nuzzled closer. They licked each other¡¯s faces, exchanging warmth and scent, their necks entwining in a dance of affection that needed no words.


    Merina and Pacificus exchanged a look, the significance of the moment washing over them. ¡°It¡¯s official,¡± they whispered together, their eyes never leaving the pair of Kirins.


    Under the ancient, towering trees of the Ever Resting Forest, with the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above and the soft murmur of leaves in the wind, they witnessed the birth of a new bond.


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    With a new objective in their minds, Pacificus and Merina turned their attention to the next challenge: taming a wild Kirin. Torrent, their beloved companion, had been raised by them since he was a fawn. They had found him in a tragic scene, a helpless baby Kirin alone in the forest, his mother¡¯s body lying lifeless at the jaws of a carnotaur. Their hearts had broken at the sight, and they¡¯d taken Torrent in, nurturing and raising him into the majestic creature he had become. Taming Torrent had been a natural process, one of instinct and care, shaping a young mind still open to trust and love.


    But taming an adult Kirin, especially one as wild and independent as the lady Kirin, would be a different endeavor altogether. She was not a blank slate like Torrent had been, but a creature of the Ever Resting Forest, a place where survival meant being alert, wary, and often avoiding creatures like humans. Her instincts had been honed by the forest¡¯s dangers, her trust hard-earned and rarely given. She had grown up among the whispering trees, the dappled shadows, and the rustling leaves, always aware of the potential threats lurking in the underbrush.


    Pacificus frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. ¡°This won¡¯t be easy,¡± he said, his voice tinged with determination and a hint of caution. ¡°We need to gain her trust, but it¡¯s going to be a slow process. She¡¯s not like Torrent. She¡¯s... set in her ways, wild and free. We can¡¯t expect her to trust us immediately.¡±


    Merina nodded, her eyes thoughtful as she considered their options. ¡°But we can start the same way we did with Torrent,¡± she suggested, her voice filled with optimism. ¡°By offering her food. If we show her we mean no harm, that we¡¯re here to provide and not take away, maybe we can get her to come closer. At her own pace.¡±


    She remembered how they had slowly earned Torrent¡¯s trust, offering him small treats, gently talking to him, showing him they were friends, not foes. It had taken time and patience, but eventually, Torrent had come to them, seeking their presence as much as they sought his.


    Pacificus nodded, though his expression remained serious. ¡°Yes, food is a good start. But we have to be careful. We need to make sure she feels safe, that she knows she has the option to leave whenever she wants. It¡¯s about building trust, not forcing it.¡± He looked out into the forest, where the lady Kirin had retreated, her presence a shadow among the trees. ¡°And we have to accept that it might take a long time. Much longer than it did with Torrent.¡±


    The couple¡¯s minds were set. They were prepared for the long, patient process of earning the lady Kirin¡¯s trust. With each step, they would have to show her that they were not a threat, that their presence was a promise of food, safety, and eventually, friendship. They knew they couldn¡¯t rush her, that their actions had to be consistent and gentle. They had to respect her space and her boundaries, allowing her to come to them in her own time.


    The thought of succeeding filled them with a quiet, hopeful excitement. If they managed to tame the lady Kirin, if she accepted them as her own as Torrent had, they could have something truly special. A pair of Kirins¡ªone tamed and one wild, together. They envisioned the sight of the two Kirins side by side, Torrent with his muscular, regal presence, and the lady Kirin with her soft, gentle grace. The idea of having a breeding pair of Kirins was a thrilling prospect, a rare and precious gift.


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    "A breeding pair of Kirins," Merina said, a smile spreading across her face, the light of possibility sparkling in her eyes. "Pacy, in my homeland, we would be considered nobles if we pulled this off. Do you realize how rare this is? It¡¯s like finding a living myth and then multiplying it." The excitement in her voice was palpable, the dream of what they could achieve with Torrent and the lady Kirin growing more vivid with each passing day.


    Pacificus''s expression softened, but there was a thoughtful crease in his brow. ¡°A breeding pair, huh¡­?¡± he mused, considering the implications. The idea was tempting, the thought of baby Kirins frolicking in their fields, bringing a sense of magic and wonder to their farm. But a lingering doubt gnawed at him. ¡°But Rina, I don¡¯t want to sell their fawn¡­ It just doesn¡¯t feel right. Don¡¯t you think it would be better if the lady Kirin stays here, in her home?¡±


    Merina tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. ¡°What do you mean, my love?¡±


    Pacificus sighed, searching for the right words. ¡°Well, you see, Rina, Kirins are wild creatures. As brutal and unforgiving as the Ever Resting Forest can be, it¡¯s still where they belong. This forest is her home. It¡¯s where she knows how to live, where she understands the rhythms of life. To take her away from that¡­ it would be like plucking a flower from its roots and expecting it to bloom in a vase. It might survive, but would it truly live?¡±


    Merina sighed softly, her smile fading into a look of understanding. ¡°You¡¯re right, Pacy. I can see that. It wouldn¡¯t be fair to take her away from all this, to force her into our world where she doesn¡¯t belong.¡±


    Pacificus nodded, his face a mixture of relief and concern. ¡°If we had a breeding pair of Kirins, what would their children do on a farm? What place would they have in the human world? I¡¯ve seen people use magnificent creatures like Hippogriffs for the purpose of war¡­ I don¡¯t want that for their children. I don¡¯t want them to be tools or weapons. I want them to be free, to live their lives as they were meant to, not as we decide.¡±


    Merina¡¯s eyes softened, filled with a mix of love and sadness. ¡°You¡¯re right, Pacy¡­ but¡­¡± she hesitated, glancing toward Torrent, who was grazing nearby, his powerful form a symbol of strength and freedom. ¡°But don¡¯t you think Torrent would become lonely if he was alone on the farm? He¡¯s spent so much time with us, but he¡¯s still a Kirin at heart. He needs his own kind, his own companions. I¡¯ve seen how he looks at her¡­ There¡¯s something there, something we can¡¯t provide him. He needs more than just us.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Pacificus fell silent, the weight of her words settling over him. He looked at Torrent, who was so much more than a mere animal to him. Torrent was a friend, a companion, someone who had shared their lives and their hearts. He had fought bravely, grown strong, and become the biggest Kirin they had ever seen. Torrent had become a symbol of the wild¡¯s strength and beauty, and of the bond that could exist between man and beast.


    "P-Pacy¡­ I know he¡¯s domesticated, but I think he still has a chance here," Merina continued softly, her voice tinged with a plea. "We¡¯ve seen him survive those fights. He¡¯s thrived out here. He¡¯s become part of the forest just as much as he¡¯s been part of our lives. Maybe¡­ maybe he could have a life here with her. A life that¡¯s truly his own.¡±


    Pacificus''s heart ached at the thought. The idea of letting Torrent go, of giving him the chance to live in the wild with his own kind, was both beautiful and terrifying. ¡°Maybe¡­ maybe he does still have a chance,¡± he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The conflict was evident in his eyes as he looked at Merina, searching for answers in her gaze. ¡°But Rina¡­ should we let him go instead? Should we set him free?¡±


    Merina¡¯s hand slipped into his, her fingers intertwining with his. She looked at him, her eyes reflecting the same uncertainty, the same love. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know, Pacy,¡± she said, her voice trembling slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose him. He¡¯s been a part of our family for so long. But if it¡¯s what¡¯s best for him¡­ if it¡¯s what he truly needs¡­ then maybe we should. Maybe we should give him the chance to choose his own path, just like we¡¯ve chosen ours.¡±


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    It was a crisp morning, the kind where the air felt fresh and the sunlight filtered gently through the canopy of trees. Pacificus was busy tending to his morning routine, stirring a pot of Torrent''s favorite stew. The savory aroma wafted through the air, filling the small clearing where Torrent grazed contentedly. His thick mane rippled with the morning breeze as he waited, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Pacificus smiled at the sight of his companion¡¯s eagerness, then noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.


    The lady Kirin was there, standing at the edge of the clearing, half-hidden behind a tree. Her large, dark eyes watched them intently, her ears flicking with every sound. She stood with her head low, muscles tensed, legs coiled as if she were ready to bolt at the slightest movement. Pacificus knew that if it weren¡¯t for Torrent¡¯s presence, she would have already vanished into the depths of the forest. Her curiosity was stronger than her fear, though, and she stayed, watching the pair.


    An idea sparked in Pacificus¡¯s mind. He grabbed the large, wooden bowl filled with steaming stew and began to walk slowly toward her, his movements measured and calm. Torrent followed close behind, his nose twitching as the delicious scent of the stew filled his nostrils. He glanced at the lady Kirin, his eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and encouragement.


    Pacificus stopped a few meters away from the wary Kirin, careful not to come too close. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken communication passing between them. The lady Kirin¡¯s eyes were wide, her gaze locked on him, every muscle in her body still taut, ready to flee. He set the wooden bowl down gently on the ground, keeping his movements slow and deliberate, then took a few steps back, giving her space.


    Torrent moved toward his mate, his large frame casting a protective shadow over the bowl. His nostrils flared as he nudged the bowl toward her, a low, comforting rumble escaping his throat. There was a playful glint in his eyes as he turned to her, inviting her to share in the meal. The lady Kirin hesitated, her gaze flicking between Pacificus and Torrent. The promise of safety and food battled with her instinct to run. Slowly, she took a tentative step forward, then another, until she was standing beside Torrent.


    Her head dipped cautiously toward the bowl, taking a hesitant sip of the stew. The warm, rich flavors danced on her tongue, and she relaxed slightly, taking a few more sips before finally settling in to eat. Torrent watched her with approval, his own head dipping into the bowl beside hers. The two Kirins shared the meal, their muzzles occasionally brushing against one another, a quiet understanding passing between them.


    Merina stood nearby, quietly observing the scene as she cleaned some fur. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched the Kirins sharing the bowl, a sense of accomplishment and hope blooming in her chest. "We need a bigger bowl," she remarked to Pacificus, her tone light and filled with amusement. She could already imagine the two Kirins side by side, feasting together as they built a bond over shared meals.


    Pacificus nodded, his eyes never leaving the pair of Kirins. He was filled with a sense of awe at how they had come to this moment. The wild Kirin, once so skittish and frightened, was now sharing a meal with Torrent, her fear slowly melting away.


    And so, each morning and evening, Pacificus and Merina would feed the wild Kirin in the same way they fed Torrent, with patience, love, and trust.


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    Taming a Kirin was never meant to be a quick task, and the journey had taken them deeper into the heart of the Ever Resting Forest. The landscape around them had transformed into something otherworldly, like a green ocean teeming with life, where towering trees stretched endlessly in every direction. The trunks of these ancient trees were massive, their roots forming a dense, interwoven network that rose and dipped like waves in the verdant sea.


    The thunder beasts, colossal creatures that they had come to rely on, moved as a herd through this vast, living ocean. Each one was so immense that they resembled moving islands, their backs wide enough to carry entire ecosystems. The water had grown so deep that it now reached their chests, a testament to the ever-changing landscape of the forest. Floating plants, their broad leaves dotted with vibrant flowers, drifted in the water, either being pushed aside by the lumbering frames of the thunder beasts or caught in the eddies they created. Every now and then, a massive amphibian would leap from the water onto one of these floating islands, disappearing into the tangle of roots and leaves.


    The trees above were a world of their own, teeming with life. Giant cockatrices perched on high branches, their feathers shimmering like jewels in the dappled sunlight. Deer with elongated limbs and delicate hooves bounded gracefully from one branch to another, moving through the canopy as easily as a squirrel would in a more ordinary forest. In the skies above, the flapping of wings filled the air as pegasi and hippogriffs soared in lazy circles, their sharp eyes scanning the ground below. Among them, Kirins flew with regal elegance, their scales gleaming in the sunlight as they circled, still trying to catch the attention of Torrent''s lady. Torrent, ever vigilant and fiercely protective, would chase these intruders away, his powerful wings beating the air as he defended what was his.


    Amidst all this, Pacificus stood at the edge of one of the thunder beasts'' heads, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The great beast beneath him moved with a slow, deliberate pace, its massive body barely disturbed by the weight of the small figure atop it. Pacificus'' expression was one of deep concentration, his eyes scanning the waters and the towering trees for any sign of danger. In his hands, he gripped the hilt of his mother¡¯s greatsword, a weapon so large that the blade towered above him. Its edge was sharp, gleaming faintly in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy. He knew all too well that while the thunder beasts were nearly invincible, with few creatures daring to challenge them, there was one exception.


    In the depths of the Ever Resting Forest, where even the bravest of creatures feared to tread, there lived a predator so fearsome that it commanded respect from all who knew of it. This creature was the true apex predator of the Ever Resting Forest, a beast that even the ancient dragons, with all their power and might, were known to avoid. Its very presence was enough to send ripples of fear through the hearts of those who sensed it, a living embodiment of the forest''s darkest and most dangerous secrets.


    Pacificus tightened his grip on the greatsword, his muscles tensing as he continued to survey the landscape. He knew that, should this creature make an appearance, it would take every ounce of his strength and skill to protect not just himself, but also Merina, Torrent, and the fragile bond they had forged with the lady Kirin. The forest was alive with danger, and Pacificus was ready, his mind sharp and his blade ready, prepared to face whatever might emerge from the depths of the Ever Resting Forest.


    ¡°Pacy,¡± Merina called softly, her voice laced with affection as she wrapped her arms around her lover from behind, resting her head against his back. She could feel the warmth of his body through his clothes, the solidness of him beneath her touch, and it brought her a sense of peace. She pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, a simple gesture that spoke volumes of her love and comfort in his presence.


    Pacificus felt her embrace and smiled, his heart swelling with a deep-seated love that only Merina could stir. He leaned back slightly into her, enjoying the sensation of her warmth, her touch a balm against the constant vigilance required in the depths of the Ever Resting Forest.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful, Pacy,¡± Merina murmured, her eyes sweeping over the lush, vibrant landscape that spread out before them. The air was filled with the sounds of life¡ªchirping birds, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional bellow of the thunder beasts. The sight of the endless greenery, punctuated by bursts of color from the flowers that floated on the water¡¯s surface, was a living painting of the forest''s beauty.


    ¡°It is,¡± Pacificus agreed, though his eyes remained fixed on the waters ahead, his expression serious. He watched every movement, every ripple caused by the drifting plants and flowers. His senses were attuned to the slightest hint of danger, his hand still resting on the hilt of his greatsword. Despite the serenity of the scene, he knew better than to lower his guard.


    ¡°Are we getting close, my love?¡± Merina asked, curiosity and excitement mingling in her voice.


    Pacificus smiled, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he glanced back at her. ¡°Yes,¡± he replied. ¡°If we keep up this pace, we¡¯ll reach the Temple of Gaia and Thanatos in a month or two.¡± His voice held a note of anticipation, the kind that only came with the promise of a long-awaited destination.


    ¡°What does the temple look like?¡± Merina asked, her curiosity piqued by the mention of the divine refuge.


    Pacificus raised his hand, pointing towards the distant horizon. ¡°It¡¯s there, dear,¡± he said simply.


    Merina followed the direction of his hand, her eyes widening as they focused on the far-off sight. There, towering above everything else, stood a tree so immense it took her breath away. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. The other ancient trees that surrounded them seemed insignificant in comparison, like mere saplings next to the colossal giant. Its trunk was enormous, wide enough to contain entire towns within its vast circumference. The bark was a deep, rich brown, etched with patterns that looked like veins of light. Its branches spread out like an enormous canopy, leaves forming a dense, verdant crown that reached towards the heavens, casting a shadow over the forest below.


    ¡°Pa-Pacy¡­ it¡¯s huge,¡± she whispered, awe filling her voice. The sheer scale of the tree was overwhelming, its majesty and grandeur beyond anything she had imagined.


    ¡°That¡¯s where we¡¯re going, my love,¡± Pacificus said, his voice tinged with a sense of reverence. ¡°That is the refuge of the Goddess of Life and her consort, the God of Death.¡± His words carried the weight of ancient history, of legends whispered by those who dared to venture into the heart of the Ever Resting Forest.


    Merina gazed at the colossal tree, her heart racing with a mixture of excitement and reverence. The thought of standing beneath its mighty boughs, of feeling the presence of the deities who called it home, filled her with a sense of purpose and awe. It was more than just a destination; it was a place of power, of ancient magic, where the forces of life and death intertwined.


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    The lady Kirin remained cautious of the humans, her eyes always tracking their movements with a wary gaze. However, her trust in her mate, Torrent, was unshakable, and that trust extended enough for her to approach the meals provided by Pacificus. The stew was not only savory but filled with the rich nutrients that kept her strong. She would eat alongside Torrent, savoring the flavors, while always maintaining a safe distance from the humans. Her ears would twitch at every sound they made, her body ready to bolt if she sensed any threat.


    While the pair of Kirins fed, Pacificus and Merina stood a short distance away, watching the scene with a mixture of pride and sadness. The sight of Torrent sharing his meal with his mate warmed their hearts, a testament to their success in caring for him and earning his trust. Merina had her arms full of bags, containing the essentials they would need for their journey. Pacificus carried even more, his muscles straining under the weight but his expression calm and focused. They had prepared for this moment, knowing it was time to move on.


    Without a word, they left their makeshift hut, the place that had been their home in the heart of the Ever Resting Forest. Pacificus bent slightly, sweeping Merina into his arms with ease. She let out a small, surprised yelp as he leaped with a powerful push from his legs. They soared upward, Pacificus aiming for the top of a nearby thunder beast¡¯s head. His landing was precise, feet finding purchase on the broad expanse of the creature¡¯s cranium. Merina clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her cheeks flushing with both exhilaration and a hint of fear from the unexpected height.


    The thunder beast, massive and slow-moving, barely noticed the couple''s presence as Pacificus bounded off its head, using a thick vine hanging from the canopy to swing to the next beast. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, despite the burden of Merina in his arms and the supplies strapped to his back. They moved with the silent grace of jungle cats, Pacificus¡¯s eyes scanning ahead for the best path. With each leap, Merina¡¯s heart pounded not just from the thrill of the motion but from the realization of her lover¡¯s strength. She knew Pacificus was strong, but witnessing his power in this way, carrying her as if she weighed nothing, was a revelation. To think, she mused, blushing at the thought, he was holding back all this time, even in their most intimate moments.


    Their final leap landed them softly onto a thick branch of one of the ancient trees that bordered the thunder beasts'' grazing area. The branch was broad, covered with moss and small plants, sturdy enough to support their weight. From this vantage point, they could see the herd of thunder beasts below, moving slowly through the green waters, their enormous forms pushing aside the humongous plants and flowers. The sight was majestic, a living reminder of the forest''s ancient, untamed beauty.


    The pair looked one last time at the majestic thunder beasts.


    With a final, silent farewell, Pacificus and Merina turned away, disappearing into the thick foliage of the Ever Resting Forest. Their hearts were heavy, but they knew this was the right path. They had raised Torrent, watched him grow strong and find his place in the wild. Now, it was time to let him live the life he was meant to, under the watchful eyes of his wild mate, in the ancient forest that had always been his true home.

 Chapter 28: The Fates

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    As they moved, Merina¡¯s eyes wandered, taking in the vast expanse of the Ever Resting Forest. Below them, the thunder beasts, massive and ancient, had come to a sudden halt. The herd, usually in constant slow motion, now stood stock-still, their large eyes scanning the surrounding swamp, muscles tense. The once gentle giants seemed wary, their stillness an ominous sign.


    ¡°Pacy,¡± Merina asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of worry, ¡°Why did they stop?¡±


    Pacificus paused, his gaze following the direction of the thunder beasts¡¯ attention. His sharp eyes narrowed, scanning the swamp below, its surface covered by a thick layer of gigantic floating plants and vibrant flowers. Amidst the lush greenery, he spotted a disturbance, a subtle shift in the water''s surface.


    ¡°Dreaded Saurians, my love,¡± he replied, his voice low and serious. ¡°The only predator that preys on thunder beasts.¡±


    Merina¡¯s eyes widened in shock. ¡°What? But¡­ those things are colossal. How could anything hunt them?¡±


    ¡°Look there, Rina,¡± Pacificus pointed towards a section of the swamp. ¡°Under the plants.¡±


    Merina squinted, trying to pierce the murky tannin waters cloaked with floating vegetation. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t see anything,¡± she admitted, the tension in her voice rising.


    The herd of thunder beasts suddenly began to move, shifting away from the spot. Merina gasped, her heart hammering in her chest as the surface of the swamp seemed to come alive. Slowly, the plants rose, revealing the monstrous head of the dreaded saurian. It was a sight that defied belief¡ªa head larger than any house Merina had ever seen, dwarfing even the thunder beasts. Its skin was dark, resembling ancient stone, and its short horns protruded menacingly from its skull. Its eyes were cold, predatory, reflecting a hunger that had existed since time immemorial.


    The saurian¡¯s long snout ended in powerful jaws, brimming with rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth, each tooth larger than a kirin. The mere sight of them sent a shiver down Merina¡¯s spine, her body instinctively recoiling. Despite being high up on a colossal tree branch, she felt a primal fear, as if the creature could still reach her, even from such a distance. The sheer size and presence of the beast made her feel vulnerable, insignificant.


    As the thunder beasts shuffled further away, the saurian moved with a terrifying grace. It glided through the water, almost merging with the weak current, its body hidden beneath the surface. Then, in an instant, it struck. The enormous creature lunged at a thunder beast¡¯s neck, its movements swift and sudden like a bolt of lightning. The water erupted in a violent cascade as the saurian¡¯s massive jaws clamped down with a sickening crunch. Its claws raked into the thick skin of the thunder beast, anchoring itself as it dragged its prey backward, deeper into the swamp.


    Tidal waves surged from the impact, sending the tannin waters crashing against the trunks of ancient trees. The thunder beasts erupted into chaos, their deep, booming roars echoing like rolling thunder through the forest. They stomped furiously at the water, their enormous feet sending shockwaves that churned the swamp¡¯s surface. The once peaceful expanse of floating plants was now a maelstrom, torn apart by the frenzy of the panicked herd.


    Merina could only watch in horror as the saurian¡¯s victim disappeared beneath the waves, swallowed by the dark waters. The other thunder beasts continued their frantic stomping, searching for their missing comrade, their giant bodies creating a cacophony of splashes and roars. The swamp¡¯s usual calm was shattered, its flora and fauna scattered in the chaos. Smaller creatures, once nestled safely among the floating plants, now scrambled for survival, thrown into disarray by the massive upheaval.


    The creatures that had lived on the now-doomed thunder beast were in even greater peril, struggling to survive the twin threats of the saurian below and the herd above. Caught in a deadly dance, they were at the mercy of the chaotic waters and the gargantuan feet of the thunder beasts.


    From their vantage point, Pacificus and Merina could see the devastation unfold, knowing that survival was a slim chance for any caught in the turmoil. The forest, ancient and unchanging, had revealed its harsh, untamed nature. Even here, in this sanctuary of life, the dance of predator and prey played out in its most brutal form.


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    Shaken by the encounter with the dreaded saurian, Pacificus and Merina sought refuge in a hollow branch. This one was smaller than the ones they had used in the past, but with Torrent no longer accompanying them, they could take shelter in more confined spaces like this. The hollow was cozy, its curved walls providing a sense of protection and seclusion. Pacificus had already started a small fire, its flickering flames casting a warm, golden glow on the branch¡¯s inner surfaces. Merina sat nearby, writing on a scroll, her quill scratching softly against the parchment.


    ¡°Pacy,¡± she called softly, her voice cutting through the crackle of the fire, ¡°I feel... I feel so small. This forest is so huge and deadly but also amazing. I honestly didn''t even know such a world existed.¡±


    Pacificus glanced up, a soft smile touching his lips. ¡°My parents were the first ones to seek aid from Gaia. Ever since I was a child, my parents would teach me how to survive in the forest. It... it feels weird, actually....¡± His voice trailed off, eyes flickering to the flames. ¡°When my father died, my mom and I took a break to grieve for him inside the forest. We did nothing but hunt and gather food, hopping from one giant tree to another. It felt... comforting, in a strange way. As if¡­ as if I belong to this forest more than I belong to any town. In a way... I consider this forest my home.¡±


    Merina chuckled softly, the sound light and musical. ¡°No wonder you were so awkward when I first met you.¡±


    Pacificus laughed, a low, rumbling sound that filled the hollow. ¡°I know... I''m sorry... I didn¡¯t really know how to talk to people back then. I still don¡¯t know, if I¡¯m being honest. But when it comes to you and the others¡­ I feel like... like I¡¯m not going to make a fool out of myself when I¡¯m talking to you.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Merina said thoughtfully, ¡°Hypatia once told me that an old scholar philosopher said... that we are all wearing a mask.¡±


    ¡°A mask?¡± Pacificus tilted his head, curiosity piqued. ¡°What do you mean, my love?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like this... Please bear with me, my love. Hypatia can be... umm... eccentric sometimes.¡± Merina smiled, recalling her friend¡¯s words. ¡°She told me once that we are all actors in a grand performance... a performance called life. We interact with different people, and for each person, we wear a different mask. For example, when I¡¯m with my children, I wear the mask of a mother. If I¡¯m talking with a stranger, I wear a mask of hospitality. And when I¡¯m with you¡±¡ªher voice softened, a tender smile lighting her face¡ª¡°I wear the mask of a lover. No... to be honest, I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯m wearing a mask when I¡¯m with you. But Hypatia insists that we all wear masks and that we can¡¯t remove them... that these masks change over time.¡± She chuckled, watching Pacificus¡¯s thoughtful expression. ¡°I know it¡¯s confusing, Pacy. Sister Hypatia can be very confusing sometimes.¡±


    ¡°I think I get it, Rina,¡± Pacificus said slowly. ¡°My father once told me that... love is the greatest form of discrimination. We show different parts of ourselves to different people. The closer we are to someone, the more exposed our true self becomes... or maybe the mask just gets lighter. I feel the same way with you. Whenever I¡¯m with you... it feels like... like I can unapologetically be myself.¡±


    Merina smiled warmly at his words, her eyes reflecting the fire¡¯s glow. She looked toward the entrance of their hollow shelter, reaching for the fabric of their tent to close it against the cool night air. As she pulled it across the opening, her gaze caught something unusual. ¡°Pacy,¡± she said, her voice curious.


    ¡°Yes, Merina?¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± she pointed to a cluster of flowers glowing faintly in the dim light. The branches of the ancient trees were often adorned with greenery, but these flowers stood out, their petals shimmering with a soft, ethereal light. Their glow was a delicate mix of blue and red, casting a surreal, almost otherworldly aura around them. ¡°Do you think those are soul flowers?¡±


    The couple moved closer, kneeling to examine the tiny blooms. The flowers were minuscule, no larger than a fingertip, yet they emitted a gentle luminescence. Some had already bloomed fully, while others were still in the process, their buds tightly closed. Each flower seemed to grow in pairs¡ªone blue, one red.


    Pacificus¡¯s eyes softened with recognition. ¡°Oh,¡± he murmured, a note of nostalgia in his voice. ¡°My father and mother used to have a pair of these. They called them ''soul flowers.'' My father had a red one, and my mother had a blue one. When my father died, the blue one wilted almost immediately. So my mother and I planted the red one on his grave, but it never grew. One day, it just... wilted. I never really understood how to take care of these flowers.¡±


    Merina smiled at the gentle glow of the petals. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have even noticed them if they weren¡¯t glowing. They¡¯re so small, Pacy.¡± She reached into her bag, producing two small glass bottles. Pacificus noticed the clear liquid inside, shimmering slightly in the light. ¡°I¡¯m going to grab a pair.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you need a special bottle for that?¡± Pacificus asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°I know,¡± she grinned mischievously. ¡°Mother Leto gave these to me.¡± She held up the bottles, their surfaces catching the light. ¡°We need to find a pair that hasn¡¯t bloomed yet,¡± she said, scanning the bed of flowers. ¡°This will be harder than I thought.¡±


    Pacificus chuckled, their movements becoming slow and deliberate as they searched through the bed of glowing flowers. They moved carefully, not wanting to disturb the delicate blossoms more than necessary. It took time, the unbloomed flowers hidden beneath the brighter, open ones. Finally, they found what they were looking for¡ªtwo small buds, one blue, one red, their petals still curled tightly.


    Cautiously, Pacificus and Merina dug around the tiny roots, making sure not to damage them. The flowers were connected to a single stem that divided into two, each color taking its own path. Back in their hollow, Pacificus carefully divided the stem into two, ensuring each flower kept its roots intact. His hands moved with practiced precision, but even so, the task was harder than it seemed. The stem was fragile, the slightest pressure threatening to break it.


    Once the flowers were separated, Merina gently placed each into the small glass bottles. The liquid inside cradled the roots, the flowers settling comfortably into their new homes.


    ¡°Rina,¡± Pacificus asked, watching her work, ¡°what is inside those flasks?¡±


    ¡°Mother Leto got this liquid from the temple of Juno,¡± she explained. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what it is, but¡­ it feels sacred, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    Pacificus nodded, the bottles now containing the glowing flowers. With their soft light shining through the glass, the bottles took on an almost divine appearance, a small piece of the forest¡¯s magic contained within.


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    The young girl¡¯s fingers moved with an almost otherworldly grace as she spun the threads, her movements fluid and precise, as if guided by an ancient rhythm that transcended time. The woman in her prime worked beside her, weaving the threads into a vast, intricate tapestry that seemed to stretch beyond the limits of sight, each strand holding the weight of countless destinies. Her hands moved with a precision that spoke of millennia of practice, yet today, they faltered. An old woman sat nearby, her gaze as steady as the endless flow of time, her hands weathered by ages of cutting the threads of life, her presence both patient and unyielding. Frustration marred the otherwise serene face of the woman in her prime, her brow creased with a deep, ancient concentration. The young girl and the old woman exchanged puzzled glances, both mystified by the rare disturbance in their sister¡¯s usual calm.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    "What torments you, Lachesis?" the young girl, Clotho, finally asked, her voice soft yet carrying the weight of eternity, curiosity laced with the wisdom of ages.


    "It¡¯s this thread, Clotho." Lachesis held up a delicate strand, its light almost too bright to behold, shimmering with an ethereal glow that seemed to pulse with life itself. It was finer and more beautiful than any they had ever woven, an anomaly in the endless sea of threads. "It¡¯s the most beautiful thread I have ever laid my eyes upon, yet it refuses to stay in its place on the great textile of existence." Her voice, normally as steady as the flow of time, wavered with irritation, and she clicked her tongue in frustration, the sound echoing through the vast space like a distant thunder. "Atropos, can you cut this thread? She is ruining this beautiful creation."


    The old woman, Atropos, leaned forward, her ancient eyes narrowing as she examined the thread with the discerning gaze of one who had seen the rise and fall of countless lives. She shook her head slowly, her movements deliberate, her voice a deep, resonant tone that carried the weight of inexorable fate. "Sister," she began, her words laden with wisdom, "it is not her time yet. Her life may be shorter than his, but the moment has not yet come."


    "Please, sister," Lachesis¡¯s voice held an edge of desperation, a rare crack in the calm demeanor of the weaver of destinies, her frustration boiling over.


    "No, Lachesis," Atropos replied, her tone firm and unyielding, like the laws of the universe itself. "We are the Moirai, the primordial weavers of destiny, not the gods of death. We do not stoop to such actions."


    Clotho, watching the tension between her sisters with the quiet understanding of one who held the beginnings of all life in her hands, tilted her head in thought. "Why are you so obsessed with this thread, Lachesis? I understand he is beautiful, but you seem to be fixated on him."


    Lachesis¡¯s eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing as she stared at the thread, as though willing it to obey her. "It is because his fate is destined for so much more, and yet he never follows my plans on the great textile. He is meant for greatness, but he chooses to spend his time with a girl whose life is destined for mediocrity."


    Clotho leaned closer, her delicate hands brushing against the threads, her expression softening as she observed the intricate connections that bound the threads together. "I think you are being too harsh with her thread, dear sister. Look closely¡ªher thread is influenced by his. Perhaps she, too, is destined for greatness."


    Atropos nodded in agreement, her ancient voice calm and certain. "I do not want to cut her thread short."


    Lachesis sighed, her frustration mounting like a storm on the horizon, dark and ominous. "Sisters, please understand my torment."


    The two rolled their eyes, the motion filled with a weary acceptance of their sister¡¯s turmoil, and returned to their tasks. Lachesis, however, could not tear her gaze away from the threads, her mind racing as she tried to impose her will upon the chaotic dance of fate. "I can¡¯t cut your thread," she muttered, her voice low and filled with the weight of inevitability, "but I can separate you from him."


    With a hand steady from eons of practice, she used her tools to carefully, painstakingly separate the two threads, their shimmering forms pulling apart as she wove them into their destined places on the vast textile of existence. The threads resisted, their once harmonious dance disrupted, but Lachesis persisted, driven by a determination that had shaped the fates of gods and men alike. But just as she finished, her young sister¡¯s voice rang out, clear and bright like the dawn of a new world.


    "Lachesis, dear sister, here is a thread born from the two."


    "Wh-what?!" Lachesis stammered, her voice betraying her shock as her eyes widened, the sight before her challenging everything she had sought to control.


    Lachesis froze, her hand hovering over the newly appeared thread. It was as beautiful as the one she had just attempted to separate, shimmering with a delicate radiance that defied her expectations. Her voice trembled with disbelief as she whispered, "H-how did this thread come from that one?" Her frustration flared, and she clicked her tongue in irritation, her mind racing with questions. "How? How is this thread born from them? How did he get her pregnant in the first place?"


    Clotho, her eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, couldn''t resist a playful remark. "You know how it happened, sister."


    "That is not what I meant!" Lachesis snapped, her voice sharp with exasperation.


    "Lachesis, calm down," Atropos interjected, her ancient voice steady as she cut another thread with the precision of someone who had severed countless lives. The snip of her shears echoed through the vast, timeless space, a reminder of the inevitability of their duties.


    Clotho, the youngest of the three, smiled with a serene understanding, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Life is indeed full of surprises," she mused, her tone light and teasing. "Even I wouldn¡¯t have expected this mortal to get pregnant."


    A sudden grin spread across Lachesis''s face, a grin that sent a shiver of concern through her sisters. They exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring their shared apprehension. "Oh no," they both muttered in unison, their voices tinged with worry.


    "I can still separate them from each other," Lachesis declared, a spark of determination igniting in her eyes. "Heck, I¡¯ll even pair him with someone whose thread is as beautiful as his."


    "Dear sister, that would be incest," Atropos remarked dryly, her ancient wisdom mingling with a touch of sarcasm.


    "That is not what I am going to do!" Lachesis shot back, her irritation growing as she imagined the possibilities. Her mind whirred with schemes and plans, her thoughts as intricate as the very threads they wove. "I''m going to introduce him to her."


    "Sister, those two are an ocean apart from each other," Clotho reminded her, a note of caution in her voice.


    "Oh, I will unite them, Clotho. Just watch me. It will be entertaining," Lachesis responded with a smirk, her voice laced with the kind of certainty only a primordial being could possess.


    Atropos sighed, the sound ancient and weary, as she casually snipped another thread, sending yet another life to its inevitable end. Her expression remained calm, but there was a subtle resignation in her movements, a quiet acknowledgment of the chaos Lachesis was about to unleash.


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    Pacificus and Merina continued their journey, leaping from one ancient tree to the next, the sight of the largest tree growing ever closer on the horizon. Its immense trunk loomed, promising refuge but also presenting new challenges. As they descended the last great tree, Pacificus held Merina in his arms, his brow furrowing with concern.


    "Are you okay, my love?" he asked, noticing the way her body tensed against his.


    "I''m fine," Merina replied, though her voice wavered slightly. "Just a bit dizzy."


    Their journey led them to the great swamp, where the branches of the ancient trees ended and the only way forward was to hop across the vast expanse of giant floating plants. When they made camp that night, Pacificus watched as Merina carefully folded a massive lotus flower, stitching its petals together to form a makeshift tent. The normally graceful movements of her hands seemed unsteady, and Pacificus''s worry deepened. When she suddenly turned away to vomit, he rushed to her side, but she waved him off weakly, insisting she was fine despite not having eaten a bite.


    As they continued their trek across the swamp, jumping from one floating plant to another, Pacificus noticed other signs that something was wrong. Merina seemed to tire easily, her breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps after only a short distance. She also needed to relieve herself more often, and though Pacificus offered her only small portions of food, she struggled to finish them.


    "My love, are you all right?" he asked, his voice tinged with unease.


    "I''m fine, Pacy," she insisted, though her pale face and trembling hands betrayed her words. "Just... a bit tired."


    But as the days passed, her condition showed no sign of improvement. Each night, Pacificus grew more anxious as he watched her struggle to keep up, her once vibrant energy fading. One day, unable to bear it any longer, he stopped abruptly, turning to face her with a determined expression.


    "Pacy?" Merina asked, confusion flickering in her tired eyes.


    "I know you''re not feeling well," he said, his tone firm as he scooped her up into his arms.


    "I''m fine, Pacy. Really, I am," she protested, trying to wriggle free.


    "No, you''re not," Pacificus replied gently but firmly. "We''re getting close to Gaia and Thanatos¡¯s home. We can ask them about your condition."


    "Pacy, we don''t have to¡ªPAAAACCCCY!" Merina yelped as Pacificus suddenly took off, sprinting with her cradled securely in his arms. She had always known Pacificus was strong¡ªhis strength was almost superhuman¡ªbut it wasn''t until now, as he bounded effortlessly from one floating plant to another, that she fully grasped just how powerful he was.


    Their journey continued at a relentless pace, with Pacificus carrying her through the treacherous terrain. They encountered predatory beasts along the way¡ªbarking toads and flat-faced salamanders¡ªbut Pacificus deftly parried their attacks, dodging them with ease while never breaking stride. Occasionally, they would spot bush deer hopping from plant to plant, and though their diet remained mostly vegetarian, they would gather what they could from the abundant flora around them.


    One day, they came upon a dreaded saurian, its massive form partially submerged in the tannin-stained waters of the swamp. Merina''s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the creature, but Pacificus merely smiled.


    "Rina, these dreaded saurians only prey on colossal monsters like thunder beasts. We¡¯re too small for them to bother with," he explained, his voice calm as he ran across the saurian¡¯s broad back, the creature not even noticing their presence.


    They even made camp on its back one night, finding a rare moment of peace in the shadow of the behemoth.


    Five weeks had passed since they began their journey across the swamp. One evening, as Pacificus was cooking a stew over a small fire, Merina approached him, her face glowing in the firelight, though it was clear she had something important on her mind.


    "Pacy," she began softly.


    "Yes, Rina?" he replied, looking up from the bubbling pot.


    "I''m... I''m pregnant."


    For a moment, Pacificus could only stare at her, his jaw dropping as the words sank in. Then, a broad smile spread across his face, his eyes shining with a mix of joy and disbelief. "I... I... I''m going to be... a dad?"


    Merina chuckled, the sound filled with warmth and love. "It seems so."


    "H-how are you? Are you okay? Are you in pain? Can I do something for you?" The words tumbled out of him in a rush, his concern for her well-being evident in every syllable.


    "P-Pacy, Pacy," she giggled, placing a hand on his arm to steady him. "Calm down, calm down. I''m okay. Nothing in my body hurts... I just feel... different somehow." Her eyes drifted to the pot of stew, and she licked her lips hungrily. "Ca-can I have some of that?"


    "Of course," Pacificus said, relief and happiness mingling in his voice as he ladled a portion of the steaming stew into a bowl for her.


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    Weeks passed, and the signs of Merina¡¯s pregnancy became more evident. The tiny bulge on her belly, though small, was unmistakable¡ªa tender reminder that Pacificus¡¯s child was growing inside her. Every time he glanced at it, a wave of awe and responsibility washed over him.


    As he carried her in his arms, carefully navigating the uneven terrain of floating plants, Pacificus couldn''t help but voice the question that had been on his mind. ¡°Will it be a boy or a girl?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Pacy,¡± Merina replied softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m actually scared.¡±


    Pacificus halted immediately, his heart tightening with concern. Of course she would be scared. He had heard stories about the pain of childbirth, the danger and unpredictability of it all. A surge of guilt washed over him as he looked at her, wondering if she was already in pain, if he was pushing her too hard.


    ¡°Are you hurt, Rina?¡± he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    ¡°No,¡± she reassured him, though her tone was still laced with unease. ¡°Well, my stomach aches a bit, but I¡¯m fine... I¡¯m also hungry.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s stop here and eat,¡± he said quickly, eager to make her as comfortable as possible.


    Pacificus moved with a speed and efficiency that made Merina¡¯s heart ache with both gratitude and guilt. In no time, he had folded the massive floating plant they were standing on into a makeshift tent. He then stepped outside, returning with a large barking toad, which he swiftly and expertly skinned. Merina, ever the resourceful tailor, seized the opportunity to examine the skin.


    It was remarkable¡ªstretchy, flexible, and strong, with a texture that sparked her imagination. The material felt water-resistant, just as Pacificus had mentioned, and her mind buzzed with ideas about what kind of garments she could create from it. Even though she was pregnant, her hands itched to work, to craft something beautiful and useful from this extraordinary material.


    ¡°Pacy, can you turn it into a stew?¡± she asked, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation. ¡°I also want more vegetables for some reason.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± he replied, smiling at her, his eyes filled with warmth.


    As he busied himself with preparing the meal, Merina couldn¡¯t help but feel a twinge of guilt for not being able to contribute as much as she usually would. But the hunger gnawing at her, the constant need for sustenance, was something she couldn¡¯t ignore. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Pacy,¡± she said, her voice softening. ¡°For some reason, I¡¯m getting a bit... peckish. What have you done to me?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, my love?¡± he asked, looking up from the pot with genuine confusion.


    ¡°You know what I mean, dear,¡± she replied, raising her eyebrows with a playful smirk on her lips. ¡°The way your hips move when you¡¯re inside me, the way you press your weight on me as you raise my hips towards yours. You did this to me.¡±


    Pacificus froze, his eyes widening as he realized what she was implying. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my love. I was selfish¡ªI didn¡¯t know you hated it.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say I hated it,¡± she teased, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss. ¡°In fact, I enjoyed it... but I can¡¯t do it with you anymore.¡±


    Pacificus¡¯s expression softened as he placed a hand on her growing belly, the connection between them deepening with the reality of the life they had created together. ¡°I know,¡± he murmured, his voice filled with quiet resolve. ¡°I need to take care of you and our future.¡±


    Merina smiled, her heart swelling with affection as she returned to examining the toad¡¯s skin. But as she worked, a sudden realization struck her. She felt a surge of irritation, not at Pacificus, but at the situation. ''Why am I so easily annoyed?'' she wondered, a frown creasing her brow. The fluctuating emotions, the sudden shifts from contentment to frustration, were confusing and unsettling. But as she glanced at Pacificus, who was now stirring the stew with care, she felt a wave of love wash over her, calming her turbulent thoughts.

 Chapter 29: Merina the Mortal

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    The animals they encountered were surprisingly docile, moving with a serene grace that belied the primal energy of the forest. It was as if the tree itself commanded their tranquility, holding them in a gentle but firm embrace. And yet, despite the outward calm, there was something unsettling about the place. The surroundings seemed paradoxically organized and chaotic, vibrant with life yet tinged with death, filled with truths that felt like lies. Every step they took was a journey through contradictions¡ªeach one both confusing and enlightening.


    Pacificus never strayed from Merina¡¯s side. His protective instincts were heightened, even in this place where the beasts seemed unnaturally tame. He kept a constant watch, his hand never far from his weapon, though he hoped he wouldn¡¯t have to use it. The presence of the temple was palpable now, its sacred aura growing stronger as they approached.


    As they neared the entrance to Gaia and Thanatos¡¯s temple, the couple halted, their breath catching in their throats at the sight before them. A group of kirins stood guard, their elegant forms arrayed in a semi-circle around the entrance. Each kirin was larger than Torrent, their scales shimmering in hues of emerald, sapphire, and amethyst. Their presence was awe-inspiring, an otherworldly display of power and grace.


    Passing by them was a surreal experience. Kirins were known to be solitary creatures, elusive and rarely seen. Yet here they stood, not only in a group but also calm and composed, a bizarre sight that defied all natural law.


    There was something else about these kirins¡ªan aura of power that surpassed even the most fearsome predators. Though smaller in size compared to the thunder beasts, each kirin exuded a strength that felt immeasurable, as if they could effortlessly subdue a dreaded saurian. Their eyes, bright with intelligence and ancient wisdom, followed Pacificus and Merina, unblinking and watchful.


    But it was the largest among them that truly held their attention. This kirin was a majestic creature, his scales a radiant blend of silver and gold that caught the light and reflected it like polished metal. His horns, long and twisted in intricate spirals, gleamed with a brilliance that rivaled the sun. His white mane floated around him as if moved by an unseen wind, giving him an ethereal, almost divine appearance. His hooves, large and powerful, struck the ground with a quiet authority, while his claws, sharp as swords, hinted at the lethal power he could unleash if provoked. He resembled not so much a kirin but a dragon, a being of legend and myth.


    The great beast¡¯s violet eyes locked onto the couple, his gaze intense and penetrating. It was as though he could see into their very souls, weighing their worth, their intentions. Then, with a graceful shake of his mane and a proud toss of his beard, the kirin let out a resonant neigh, the sound echoing through the sacred grove. It was not a challenge, but a welcome¡ªa gesture that signaled they were allowed to pass, that they were accepted within the temple¡¯s hallowed grounds.


    Merina and Pacificus exchanged a glance, both humbled and awed by the experience.


    ¡°Pacy,¡± Merina whispered, her voice soft but resolute.


    ¡°Yes, my love?¡± Pacificus replied, his gaze shifting to her with concern.


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay here,¡± she murmured, her eyes flickering with both resolve and a trace of unease. ¡°I am not a child of Gaia... or Thanatos. The temple is sacred, and from what I¡¯ve seen, only their true worshippers are allowed within. I don¡¯t want to disrespect the deities.¡±


    Pacificus frowned, his worry deepening. ¡°But Rina...¡±


    ¡°I will be fine, Pacy,¡± she reassured him, her voice steady despite the gravity of her words. ¡°I know I will.¡±


    He hesitated, torn between the instinct to protect her and the understanding that she was right. ¡°All right,¡± he finally conceded, his voice laced with reluctance as he slowly turned to face the temple¡¯s shadowed entrance.


    As he ventured deeper into the ancient cave, the light around him dimmed, consumed by the thick, suffocating darkness that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. The air was heavy, filled with the scent of damp earth and the unmistakable tang of decay, yet interwoven with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. It was a place teeming with contradictions¡ªlife intertwined with death, beauty with decay.


    Pacificus walked cautiously, his steps echoing in the vast emptiness, each one taking him further from the safety of the entrance and closer to the unknown. The silence was oppressive, broken only by a voice¡ªsoft, almost imperceptible, yet it echoed in his mind like a distant memory. It was a voice that was both honest and deceiving, luring him forward with promises he couldn¡¯t quite grasp.


    He followed the voice, his senses on high alert, every nerve in his body taut with anticipation. The darkness seemed to grow thicker, wrapping around him like a shroud. His eyes strained to see, but the shadows clung to everything, obscuring his path. Then, as he took another step, he felt it¡ªcold, stagnant water seeping through his boots, creeping up his ankles.


    He paused, his heart skipping a beat as he looked down. The water was black as night, reflecting nothing of the dim light above. It was an unnatural coldness, the kind that seemed to reach into his bones, yet he pressed on, his resolve unshaken.


    As he continued, a faint glow appeared in the distance, a solitary beacon in the sea of darkness. Drawn to it, Pacificus moved closer, his steps careful yet deliberate. The light grew stronger, revealing its source¡ªa giant enclosed flower.


    The petals of the flower unfolded slowly, each revealing a swirl of colors that defied comprehension. They were hues that shouldn''t exist together¡ªbrilliant yet murky, soothing yet unsettling. The beauty of the flower was a paradox, its colors clashing and blending in a way that was both mesmerizing and disorienting. As it fully opened, vines and branches began to twist and writhe from its center, like living tendrils of chaos given form.


    Leaves sprouted from the vines, their veins glowing like embers, while delicate flowers bloomed, exuding an aura that was at once inviting and repellent. The goddess emerged from within this tangle of life, her form coalescing from the twisting wood and foliage. She was Gaia, the primordial goddess of life¡ªa being of contradictions, with a body made of living wood and a flame burning brightly at her chest. Her horns were twisted and gnarled, like ancient roots, and vines curled around her limbs as though they were an extension of her very essence. She was both beautiful and grotesque, her presence uncanny yet somehow comforting.


    Her eyes, deep and dark as the earth, bore into Pacificus, filled with a mix of nurturing warmth and predatory hunger. When she spoke, her voice was a blend of opposites¡ªgenuine yet mocking, sincere yet dripping with deception. "Greetings, Azrael," she intoned, her words resonating deep within his soul, as though she had reached into his very essence and called him by his true name.


    Pacificus felt a tremor run through him at the sound of her voice, the way she uttered his name making his heart race. He bowed low, his respect for the primordial goddess overshadowing the fear that gnawed at his insides.


    Gaia chuckled, the sound both a soothing lullaby and a sinister laugh. It echoed in the chamber, filling the space with a strange energy that was both calming and terrifying. "What is it that you desire so much that you would seek me out, Azrael?" Her voice danced between tones, never settling, always shifting like the wind.


    As she spoke, vines and branches began to grow around Pacificus, wrapping him in their glowing embrace. The leaves unfurled, displaying the same contradictory beauty as the petals of the flower¡ªboth lovely and hideous, natural yet otherworldly.


    "I... I just wanted to receive your blessing once more, great goddess," Pacificus stammered, his voice wavering under the weight of her presence.


    "Is that all?" Gaia''s tone was laced with amusement, a dangerous edge hidden beneath the surface.


    "Y-yes, Goddess," he replied, though uncertainty gnawed at him.


    "You didn¡¯t know, did you?" Her voice was softer now, almost pitying.


    Pacificus felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. "What is it that I don''t know, Goddess?"


    "The woman, your lover... she is pregnant with your child."


    Pacificus''s heart skipped a beat. A smile slowly spread across his face as the realization sank in. "I... I never thought I would become a father... but she gave me that chance."


    Gaia''s voice shifted again, losing its mocking edge and taking on a tone of genuine concern. "So did I, Azrael," she said, her words heavy with meaning. "For you see, Azrael, you carry the blood of Elion, Idra, and even Durin in your veins."


    Pacificus''s eyes widened in shock. His body trembled, feeling as if the very ground beneath him was crumbling away. "H-how can that be, Goddess?" he stuttered, disbelief clouding his mind. "I... I can''t be a hybrid... Aren''t hybrids supposed to be infertile?"


    "No, my dear child," Gaia''s voice was firm, devoid of any contradiction. "All hybrids are born from the children of Elion. However, those born with different blood are usually weak, but they also possess incredible potential." She gazed at Pacificus with an intensity that made him feel exposed. "Azrael, my dear child, you are a miracle brought forth by love. You were born weak, destined to die, but your parents defied that fate. They braved my domain to save your life."


    "I... I understand now," Pacificus whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of the revelation. "Now I know why I''ve always felt so different from others... All this time, I thought I was just human... Oh, Merina... How will she... Will she still love me when she realizes what I am?" Fear gripped him as his thoughts turned to the woman he loved. "And she is pregnant... with my child. Goddess, please tell me... Will she be all right if she gives birth to my child?"


    Gaia''s expression softened, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and sadness. "If she chooses to give birth to your child, it may cost her life. If not, she will weaken, for her lifespan is lower than yours. She will be vulnerable to the same disease that took your father."


    Pacificus''s heart pounded in his chest, terror threatening to overwhelm him. "And if she doesn''t?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.


    "Then she would stay alive and healthy," Gaia answered, her tone leaving no room for doubt.


    "I must tell her... I must tell her to abort the child," Pacificus said, desperation coloring his voice.


    "Oh, Azrael," Gaia sighed, her voice filled with a sad wisdom. "That decision lies with her and her alone, not with you."


    "But... but Goddess," Pacificus cried, tears streaming down his face. "I can''t lose her... I can''t lose her."


    Gaia¡¯s expression remained calm, yet there was an undeniable depth of empathy in her eyes. "But it is her decision, Azrael. She is the one carrying the life that is slowly forming within her."


    Pacificus fell to his knees, the cold water now rising to his chest, his body racked with sobs. "Wh-what must I do?" he pleaded, his voice breaking as he looked up at the goddess. "Please, tell me... what must I do?"


    Gaia''s smile deepened, her lips curving in a way that was both reassuring and mysterious. "Do as your parents taught you. Be strong, Azrael." As she spoke, a vine extended from her, its touch gentle as it brushed against Pacificus''s back. A warmth spread through him, chasing away the cold dread that had gripped his heart. He felt the warmth not just on his skin, but deep within his soul, a comforting presence that steadied his nerves and gave him a sense of clarity.


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    As the vine touched him, runes began to glow faintly on his back, shimmering with a light that pulsed like a heartbeat. The symbol of Gaia and Thanatos¡ªthe intertwined tree representing both life and death¡ªetched itself into his flesh, its roots and branches spreading across his back like a living tattoo. The runes felt alive, humming with power, but Pacificus barely noticed them. His thoughts were consumed by the weight of Gaia¡¯s words, by the fear and despair gnawing at him as he thought of Merina and their unborn child.


    "You have grown," Gaia''s voice was soft, almost maternal, as she regarded him with those deep, knowing eyes. "You have grown strong, Azrael."


    But her words offered little comfort to Pacificus in that moment. He stood there, his gaze distant, his mind clouded with worry. The thought of losing Merina, of failing to protect the life they had created together, was unbearable. He felt the weight of the world pressing down on him, a suffocating burden that made it hard to breathe.


    "Tell me," Gaia¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts, drawing his attention back to her. "What potential would you wish to increase?"


    For a moment, Pacificus was silent, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he looked up at the goddess, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and determination. "I... I wish I was stronger... strong enough... to save them."


    Gaia studied him for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. Then, with a slow, deliberate nod, she spoke again. "Azrael... bring her here."


    Her words were both a command and an invitation, filled with a gravity that sent a shiver down his spine. The vines around him seemed to pulse in response, as if they were alive with anticipation. The runes on his back flared briefly, their light casting faint shadows on the water beneath him.


    <hr>


    Merina stood quietly, her hand moving in a gentle rhythm as she brushed the mane of the lady Kirin. The brush she used was one she had crafted for Torrent, its bristles smooth and well-worn from many uses. The Kirin, with her single, spiraling horn and the soft, doe-like features, stood serenely under Merina''s touch, her silver-white mane cascading down in silky waves. The majestic creature was a picture of grace and calm, a stark contrast to the swirling emotions within Merina.


    As Merina brushed, the lady Kirin shifted slightly, lowering her head to nudge Merina''s belly with her warm, velvety muzzle. The gentle gesture was followed by a soft neigh, almost like a question or an expression of concern.


    "Oh," Merina murmured, understanding the Kirin''s unspoken inquiry. "Yes... I''m pregnant."


    The Kirin responded with a slow nod, her deep, violet eyes reflecting a wisdom that seemed to transcend words.


    "I think I''ve been pregnant for... fifteen weeks by now?" Merina continued, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I really don''t know."


    The Kirin neighed again, a sound that was both soothing and supportive, as if she understood the confusion and fear that Merina was feeling.


    Merina''s hands paused for a moment as she let out a soft sigh, her gaze lowering to the ground. "Yes... I''m afraid," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I''m afraid and nervous... I''m terrified of giving birth, knowing how painful it will be. But... but at the same time... I''m... I''m excited." Her voice wavered, a mix of trepidation and longing. "I want to see this child. I want to hold this child in my arms... It''s kind of weird... don''t you think?"


    As if sensing her vulnerability, something gently bumped against her back. Startled, Merina turned to see a Kirin fawn, its tiny hooves prancing with playful energy. The fawn''s youthful exuberance was infectious, and for a moment, Merina found herself smiling despite her worries. The little one seemed to be inviting her to join in its play, its eyes bright with innocent joy.


    But before Merina could react, the lady Kirin let out a low, gentle growl, and the fawn obediently returned to its mother¡¯s side. The lady Kirin leaned down, nuzzling the fawn with a tenderness that made Merina''s heart ache with a sudden, overwhelming emotion. She watched as the mother Kirin cleaned the fawn¡¯s fur, each movement filled with a deep, instinctual love.


    Turning her attention back to the lady Kirin, Merina resumed brushing the mane, her strokes slow and deliberate. There was something calming about the repetitive motion, something that soothed her frayed nerves. The Kirin, in response, lowered her head once more, this time licking Merina''s face and then her belly, her tongue rough yet comforting.


    The Kirin''s soft, melodic neigh followed, the sound filled with an almost maternal warmth, as if the creature was offering her own form of comfort and reassurance.


    "Uh... Thank you?" Merina replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty and gratitude. She reached out to gently pat the Kirin''s neck, feeling the warmth of the creature¡¯s skin beneath her hand. "I don''t really understand what you''re saying, but... you''re a mother, and I''m about to become one... so I''ll keep your words at heart."


    "Rina," came a familiar voice, tinged with a sadness that immediately set Merina on edge.


    A smile instinctively spread across her lips, but it quickly faded as she turned to see the anguish etched in Pacificus''s eyes. The depth of his despair was like a dagger to her heart. "Pacy," she called out softly, rushing to him, her hands reaching for his face, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed his cheeks. "Are you all right?"


    "I... I''m fine, Rina... I''m fine," he replied, his voice betraying the tremor in his heart. His eyes, however, told a different story. They quivered with unspoken fears, and the smile he offered her was weak, a facade barely holding together.


    "Liar," she whispered, her voice laced with concern and gentle admonishment.


    Pacificus blinked, taken aback by her straightforwardness. "I''m fine, Rina... honestly..." he stammered, struggling to maintain his composure. "I... I... the goddess wants to meet you, my love."


    Merina studied his face, searching his eyes for the truth he was trying so desperately to hide. She sighed softly, her heart aching for him, and leaned in to kiss him tenderly on the lips. When she pulled back, she whispered in his ear, "If something is troubling you... just tell me."


    Pacificus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I know," he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I know you would."


    With a silent understanding between them, Pacificus guided Merina into the heart of Gaia''s domain. The entrance to the temple lay beneath the massive roots of the ancient tree, a dark, yawning mouth that seemed to swallow all light. The darkness inside was palpable, a heavy, living presence that pressed in on them from all sides. It was both terrifying and strangely welcoming, a paradox that tugged at Merina''s soul.


    As they ventured deeper into the temple, the air grew thick with contradictions. The very atmosphere was a blend of chaos and order, symmetry and asymmetry, beauty and ugliness. The walls seemed to shift and pulse, alive with the essence of Gaia herself. Merina could feel it in her bones, in the very core of her being¡ªa presence that was both ancient and young, serene and wild. It was disorienting, and yet, in some inexplicable way, it felt like coming home.


    Finally, they stood before Gaia, the primordial goddess of life. Merina''s senses were overwhelmed as she beheld the deity in her full, contradictory glory. Gaia was a living embodiment of paradoxes¡ªchaotic yet organized, symmetrical yet asymmetrical, breathtakingly beautiful and yet disturbingly ugly. Her presence was an assault on the senses, and yet, Merina found herself unable to look away.


    "Greetings, young one," Gaia''s voice echoed through the chamber, a sound that was both melodic and discordant, genuine and mocking. Her eyes, ancient and all-seeing, fixed on Merina with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. "Come closer."


    Merina swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Her feet felt like lead as she took a tentative step toward the water that separated them. The goddess¡¯s words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. "There is life slowly forming in your womb," Gaia continued, her tone both sincere and sardonic. "Did my champion treat you well?"


    "Champion?" Merina echoed, her eyes widening in surprise. She turned to look at Pacificus, confusion and disbelief warring in her expression. "P-Pacy is a champion?"


    Gaia chuckled, a sound that was both warm and chilling, before turning her gaze to Pacificus. "Azrael... come closer. It would be much wiser if you were the one to tell her."


    Pacificus hesitated, his face a mask of grief and despair. His body trembled as he approached Merina, the weight of what he was about to reveal pressing down on him like a physical burden. "M-Rina... I... I... I am a hybrid," he confessed, his voice cracking under the strain.


    Merina blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "And?" she asked, not understanding the significance of his words.


    Pacificus stared at her, bewildered by her reaction. "I''m a hybrid... I''m not a pure human," he repeated, his tone laced with urgency.


    Merina tilted her head slightly, still not grasping the gravity of his confession. "Pacy... I know that," she said simply.


    His eyes widened in shock. "Y-you know?"


    "Not exactly... but I had my suspicions," she admitted, her voice calm. "Your immense strength, the stories you''ve told me about your grandfather being a dwarf... I always thought you might be a dwarven-human hybrid."


    "Rina... you are pregnant with a hybrid''s child. Do you know how¡ª"


    "Dangerous it is," she interrupted, her voice steady. "I know, Pacy... I know. Hybrids are rare because they are often born extremely weak... and I''ve heard rumors that their human parents get sick and die when they give birth to them."


    Pacificus nodded, his face pale. "Rina... those rumors are true. My father died from it."


    Merina closed her eyes, the revelation hitting her like a physical blow. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before looking back at Pacificus. "Pacy... you have dwarven blood in you, don¡¯t you?"


    "Y-yes," he stammered, "but... I also have the blood of Idra."


    Merina¡¯s eyes widened further in shock. "No wonder you''re so handsome," she tried to joke, a weak smile forming on her lips. "You have elven blood too." Her gaze dropped to her belly, then shifted to the goddess who had been silently observing their conversation.


    "Will I die if I give birth?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.


    "There is a strong possibility that you will," Gaia answered, her tone devoid of the contradictions that had filled it before. It was just the cold, unvarnished truth. "If childbirth doesn¡¯t kill you, then the curse of Elrion might."


    "The curse of Elrion?" Merina echoed, her voice trembling.


    "Also known as the curse of mortality," Gaia explained, her voice steady and clear. "Though it is not truly a curse... it is a gift. Mortality itself is a gift. The curse of Elrion is a gift because, though his life was short compared to other progenitors, his influence has outlived them all. His name and deeds are remembered by his species. However, it is because the human lifespan is so short that when a hybrid is born, they often don¡¯t survive."


    Merina''s breath caught in her throat as she stared at Gaia, her mind struggling to process the goddess¡¯s words.


    "Young one," Gaia continued, her voice gentle yet firm, "When a baby is born, they unconsciously draw mana from their parents. The more long lived the species the more mana they siphon, this is not an issue for non-hybrids, but for hybrids who are born from parents with different lifespans, it is fatal for the one who has less lifespan. This unconscious siphoning of mana continues until the child is a month old, for those who had the blood of Idra this is nothing but for those who had the blood of Elrion... it is fatal. Even for the children of Durin, it can be fatal. You may feel fine for years, but one day, you will suddenly grow weak as your body begins to shut down, leading to a slow and painful death. That is the process of mana poisoning."


    "I... I see," Merina stammered, visibly shaken. She looked from Pacificus to Gaia, her thoughts a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. "If I abort the child, what would happen?"


    "You will be fine," Gaia replied, her tone as matter-of-fact as before. "You will stay healthy and live your life as a normal human."


    Merina¡¯s gaze shifted between the goddess, her belly, and Pacificus, her thoughts racing. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. The weight of the decision before her was suffocating, and as she tried to steady her breathing, she realized that her entire life¡ªher future, her love, and her very existence¡ªhung in the balance of the choice she had to make.


    Merina''s gaze shifted between the goddess, Pacificus, and finally, her belly, which had grown noticeably larger. Her hand instinctively rested on the curve of her abdomen, feeling the life that had yet to fully awaken within her. The weight of her decision pressed heavily on her chest, but her resolve was clear.


    "Pacy..." she began softly, her voice trembling with both fear and determination, "Pacy has elven blood... doesn''t he?"


    "Yes," the goddess replied, her tone devoid of any contradiction, her words ringing with the cold, unvarnished truth.


    Merina nodded, absorbing the confirmation. A small, bittersweet smile played on her lips as she looked up at Pacificus, whose eyes reflected a storm of emotions¡ªfear, love, and a deep, abiding sorrow. "Then I want to give birth to this child," she declared, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her.


    Pacificus felt his heart shatter at her words, but he remained silent, his throat tight with the anguish he couldn''t voice. His thoughts screamed with objections, with desperate pleas for her to reconsider, but he held them back, knowing that this was her choice¡ªa choice he had no right to take from her.


    "Please," Merina continued, turning her gaze to the goddess, her eyes filled with earnest desperation. "Give this child your blessing."


    Gaia''s expression remained impassive as she shook her head, her voice a blend of warmth and coldness, carrying the weight of an ancient truth. "I can''t," she said, the words striking with the finality of a closing door. "There is life forming in your womb, but that is life that is slowly being formed not life itself. My blessings are only available to those who are alive. If you wish to bless your child, return here after you have given birth." The goddess''s voice, though contradictory in its warmth and coldness, held no deceit. "You may stay in my domain, spend your days here resting and preparing for the trials ahead. Childbirth is a painful process, young one. You will need all the strength you can gather."


    Merina smiled softly, gratitude mingling with the fear in her heart. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the sacred space.


    The goddess regarded her with an unreadable expression before speaking again. "Young one," Gaia began, her tone probing yet gentle, "why do you choose to give birth to this child?"


    Merina looked over at Pacificus, her heart aching for him as she saw the sorrow etched into every line of his face. Then, she turned back to Gaia, her voice quiet but filled with the depth of her conviction. "Because I''m only human," she answered, her words simple yet profound. "My life is shorter than his. I will die someday, if not sooner, then I will grow old while he remains young. Pacy... Pacy is the kind of person who would do everything for the people he loves. He would care for them until the day he dies... but who will be there for him when I am gone? Who will he love once I am no longer here? I am not a long-lived species. I''m only human, and that is something I can''t change. I choose to give..."


    Her voice caught in her throat, but she forced herself to continue, her gaze unwavering. "I choose to give life to this child, because I want to leave behind something of us¡ªa part of me, a part of him. I want him to have someone to love, someone who will carry on, even after I''m gone. I may not be able to stay with him forever, but this child... this child will be our legacy. It''s the only way I can ensure he won''t be alone, that he will have someone to love and be loved by, even when I''m no longer here."


    Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. "I choose to give life to this child because it''s the one thing I can give him that will last beyond my time, beyond our time together. It''s the one thing that will remain when I am gone."

 Chapter 30: Courage of the Mortals

    The couple drifted away in silence, their footsteps soft against the damp earth. Pacificus clutched Merina close, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, fingers trembling as though this might be the last time he would ever hold her. His heart weighed heavily in his chest, each step burdened by the uncertainty of the future. Merina leaned into him, drawing strength from his touch, though she could feel the tension radiating through his body. The darkness around them seemed both oppressive and comforting, swallowing them whole as they disappeared deeper into the shadows of Gaia''s domain.


    From the heart of her temple, Gaia watched them go, her primordial eyes tracking their every movement until they were swallowed by the inky blackness. Her expression remained serene, yet a flicker of something ancient and unknowable stirred within her as she observed the fragile couple depart.


    "Amazing, isn''t it, my fair consort?" she mused aloud, her voice a soft, melodic ripple that seemed to echo through the stillness of the temple.


    From behind her, a voice responded, low and powerful, its very resonance carrying a weight that could crush mortal ears. "Indeed," came the reply, Thanatos, the Primordial god of death, materializing from the void. His presence was like the stillness before an inevitable end, calm yet overwhelming. "Humans are truly remarkable. Only in their eyes do I see such determination, such raw defiance of fate. No other species possesses that flame."


    Gaia smiled faintly, her gaze still on the path where the couple had disappeared. "Mortality is Elion¡¯s greatest gift, my beloved. It is their fleeting existence that makes them burn so brightly."


    "Yes," Thanatos agreed, his voice like a distant storm. "Indeed, my beloved. Mortality drives them to do what even the gods cannot."


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    Merina sighed softly, her eyes tender as she reached down and cupped his face in her hands. "Pacy..." she whispered, her fingers brushing against his cheek, wiping away the tears that glistened in the dim light.


    "I can''t lose you," Pacificus choked, his voice raw and broken, his heart cracking at the edges. "Please, Rina... I can''t bear it. Not you. Not now."


    Merina''s smile was bittersweet as she gazed down at him, her own tears threatening to spill over. She held them back, determined to be strong for him, for the both of them. "Oh, Pacy," she murmured, her voice soft yet firm. "You have elven blood in your veins... you¡¯ll outlive me." Her hand slipped from his face and moved to her belly, cradling the life growing within her. "But this child... with this child, I can leave behind a legacy. Our legacy."


    Pacificus shook his head, his heart tearing in two. "Rina, no... I want to spend all the time I have left with you. With you, here, by my side."


    Merina blinked back her tears, her heart aching at the sight of him so broken, so vulnerable. She leaned closer, pressing her forehead against his, her breath warm against his lips. "Look at me, Pacy," she whispered. "I¡¯m only human... I¡¯m destined to die as a human. That¡¯s the fate I can¡¯t escape." Her voice quivered, but her resolve did not waver. "But with this child, Pacy... with this child, I can leave something behind. I can leave our legacy."


    "Rina..." he started, but his voice faltered.


    "Promise me," she whispered, her hands gripping his shoulders now, her eyes searching his, desperate for his understanding. "Promise me, my love. Promise me that you will love our child... that you¡¯ll take care of this child, our child, until the day you die. Promise me, Pacy."


    His throat tightened, and for a moment, Pacificus couldn¡¯t speak, the words stuck in his throat like thorns. "I... I¡¯ll try," he managed, his voice hoarse and uncertain.


    Merina¡¯s lips trembled into a smile, though her eyes shone with unshed tears. "Pacy... let¡¯s get married."


    He blinked, startled, his heart skipping a beat. "Rina?"


    "This child," she said, her hand resting protectively over her belly, "is a labor of our love. I don¡¯t want our child to be born without a name, to be called a bastard. Pacy... will you marry a human like me?"


    Without hesitation, Pacificus took her hands in his, pressing them tightly against his chest, his heart thundering beneath her palms. "Of course," he whispered, his voice steady now, filled with the depth of his love for her. "Of course I will, Rina."


    And this time, Merina let the tears fall freely, her smile breaking through the sorrow. She leaned down and kissed him, her tears mingling with his. "Thank you, Pacy," she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you so much."


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    Their marriage was simple, yet it carried a weight that transcended the earth. The quiet witnesses of this sacred union were not a bustling crowd of humans but a majestic herd of kirins, their coats shimmering in the dappled light filtering through the trees. From the shadows, Thanatos, the Primordial god of death, silently observed the couple, his presence felt but unseen. His eyes, ancient and knowing, rested upon them, while the goddess of life herself, Gaia, stepped forward to bless the union.


    When Gaia appeared, there was no contradiction in her form¡ªa rare display from the deity who so often embodied the dualities of existence. Her presence, harmoniously balanced, felt like a deep reverence toward the mortal couple. Merina and Pacificus, in their awe, didn¡¯t understand fully why she chose to appear this way, but they were profoundly grateful. It was as though Gaia, in her infinite wisdom, acknowledged their love in its truest, simplest form.


    Merina¡¯s wedding dress, made from the white silk spun by giant larvae, was a symbol of her resourcefulness and connection to nature. The fabric draped around her with a softness that mimicked the gentle flow of water, adorned with intricate patterns of leaves and flowers, a reflection of the forest¡¯s life force. Pacificus stood beside her, clad in a barong woven from the same silk, his attire mirroring hers with subtle floral and leafy designs. The forest had become their inspiration, each stitch and thread a tribute to the world they cherished.


    There were no rings exchanged between them, no traditional garlands. Instead, the couple exchanged soul flowers, delicate yet radiant blossoms that shimmered with a mystical glow. Pacificus now carried Merina¡¯s vibrant red flower, its petals pulsating like a heartbeat, while Merina held Pacificus¡¯s serene blue flower, glowing softly like the calm before dawn. These flowers, connected to their very souls, would continue to glow as long as they both lived, a symbol of their bond that transcended flesh and time.


    As they made their vows, the soul flowers flared brighter, bathing the couple in their light as they kissed to seal their promises. The kirins, who had watched the ceremony with silent reverence, erupted in celebration. They growled, roared, and neighed in approval, their sounds reverberating through the forest. Some of them took to the sky, their hooves gliding through the air as they circled the sacred space, adding to the sense of magic and wonder that surrounded the couple.


    Gaia and Thanatos remained quiet, their smiles gentle yet profound. The mortals couldn¡¯t see their expressions directly, but they could feel the warmth and approval radiating from the divine figures. The air itself seemed to hum with a sacred energy, something so simple yet filled with reverence, as though the very earth, sky, and the spirits that dwelled within it bore witness to their union.


    In that moment, beneath the canopy of ancient trees and the gaze of mythical beings, their marriage felt not just like a union of two souls but a merging of worlds¡ªhuman and divine, mortal and eternal. Simple, sacred, and everlasting.


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    Months had passed since Pacificus and Merina retreated into the Ever Resting Forest, and life outside their sanctuary thrived in unexpected ways. Pacificus''s old hut, nestled near the forest¡¯s edge, had become a hub of activity, home to a new family of unlikely companions.


    A young girl named Demeter now called the hut her own. She tended to Pacificus''s sprawling, enchanted garden with the help of Hyakinthos, whose delicate, ethereal beauty stood in stark contrast to the rugged practicality of the farm work. Apollo often joined them, drawn to the hut not only for the peaceful respite but for the thriving river garden that fascinated him. The garden, a marvel of hydroponics, pulsed with life, herbs flourishing in the flowing water, their leaves vibrant and potent for his potions. The three of them, a strange yet harmonious trio, kept the place alive with their shared labor and camaraderie.


    At night, the serene atmosphere would shift. Artemis, fierce and silent, would return from her nocturnal hunts. Her prey often included the massive grass boars, creatures as large as bulls, their hides thick and bristling with fur. These hunts were a rare privilege granted by her mother, Caecilia, who only permitted such outings once a month under strict supervision. Artemis''s brothers, Apollo and Hyakinthos, watched over her along with a warrior monk of Juno, their presence a constant reminder of the discipline and caution required in these wild lands.


    Among them was Zus, a young orphaned boy adopted by Leto. His silence spoke volumes, haunted by the memory of his mother, who had perished defending their town in the last siege. Yet despite his quiet nature, Zus thrived in the outdoors. He ran races with the other children on the track Pacificus had once built, his lithe body racing across the earth with surprising agility. His affinity for athletics was clear, but what puzzled Artemis most was his ease with the girls. He seemed to attract their attention, even the older girls, who cooed over him as if he were a charming young prince. One of her guards even confessed a soft spot for the boy, much to Artemis''s silent bewilderment.


    Nearby, a new structure had risen¡ªa barracks for the warrior monks of Vesta, though it had quickly transformed from a simple outpost into a full-fledged temple. Stone walls now encased the two-story building, which served not only as a defensive structure but also as an orphanage. Here, the children of the siege, much like Zus, found solace and purpose, tending to Pacificus¡¯s unique and often dangerous crops.


    The farm, fed by Pacificus''s careful cultivation, yielded wonders. Barometz, mandrakes, and even carnivorous plants thrived alongside more common crops like potatoes and cabbages, though the latter grew to such monstrous proportions they seemed almost unreal. Monks and orphans alike maintained the fields, their toil rewarded with bountiful harvests that were sold in nearby towns. Demeter, alongside Lasion¡ªa peculiar boy with an obsession for man-eating flowers¡ªworked together as cooks, often experimenting with the strange and exotic ingredients the farm produced. As they spent more time together, their bond deepened, with Lasion¡¯s odd fascinations balanced by Demeter¡¯s calm and steady presence.


    But not all the changes were as heartwarming. Minos, once the youngest among them, had developed an unusual fixation. It all began when the farm was invaded by a beast¡ªa towering minotaur, its body rippling with muscle, its head and lower half that of a bull. The battle had been fierce, the creature wielding crude weapons of sticks and stones, but after a lengthy struggle, the minotaur retreated into the forest. Since then, Minos could think of nothing else. He sketched the minotaur in the dirt, sculpted its image in clay, and even fashioned a horned helmet to wear around the farm. "Minotaurs are cool," he would say, much to the confusion of those around him.


    As the seasons shifted and summer arrived, life on the farm became a battlefield once again. A relentless wave of wingless grasshoppers, each as long as an arm, descended upon the crops. They came in droves, a living tide of destruction. Apollo, Artemis, and Hyakinthos joined the monks and children in defense of the farm, throwing poison-laced pots crafted by Apollo himself into the swarm. Despite their best efforts, it wasn¡¯t enough. The creatures kept coming, relentless in their hunger.


    In response, they constructed makeshift walls around the farm, barricading themselves against the brown tide of insects. Every day became a struggle, with everyone from the youngest child to the most seasoned monk fighting off the invaders. Yet, amid the chaos, there was strange joy. The grasshoppers, once defeated, revealed a surprising secret¡ªtheir shells turned a vibrant red when cooked, and their flesh was oddly delicious. What had started as a desperate defense became a bizarre feast, as the defenders celebrated their victories over plates of roasted grasshopper, their laughter echoing across the farm.


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    Merina lay in the heart of the Ever Resting Forest, her body trembling from the intense waves of pain, clutching Pacificus''s hand as if it were her only anchor. His heart wrenched at every scream that tore through her, and he could do nothing but watch, helpless, as she endured the agonizing ordeal. Around them, the ancient kirins stood in solemn silence, their shimmering coats reflecting the glow of the forest. The air was thick with anticipation, and the Goddess of Life, her presence woven into the very earth, stood by Merina''s side. Her tendrils of vines, leaves, and softly glowing branches supported the laboring woman like nature itself cradling her.


    ¡°Push, young one,¡± the goddess murmured with gentle insistence, her voice filled with an ancient patience. ¡°You are so close.¡±


    Merina¡¯s cry of anguish filled the forest once again, louder this time, a sound of pure, primal pain that rattled even the air around them. Her entire body strained, and sweat glistened on her forehead. Her chest heaved with labored breaths, her mind dancing on the edge of consciousness. She had never known pain like this, a pain that seemed to swallow her whole, threatening to pull her into the abyss with each contraction.


    ¡°One more, young one,¡± coaxed the goddess. ¡°Just one more.¡±


    With the last of her strength, Merina gave a final, guttural scream, pushing with all her might. Then, through the haze of agony, she heard it¡ªa tiny, fragile cry that pierced the night. And just like that, everything went black.


    ¡°Merina!¡± Pacificus''s voice cracked with fear as he knelt beside her, his heart pounding with terror that something had gone horribly wrong.


    ¡°She is fine, Azrael,¡± the goddess reassured him, her tone calm and certain. ¡°Childbirth is a sacred, arduous trial. She only needs rest.¡±


    In the goddess¡¯s arms, where vines and branches entwined in a cradle of life, she held a tiny, swaddled figure. The embers within her natural form flickered softly, illuminating the newborn¡¯s delicate features. The goddess¡¯s glowing gaze fell on Pacificus, her voice a warm breeze through the trees. ¡°Azrael, meet your daughter.¡±


    Tears welled in Pacificus''s eyes, blurring his vision as his hands, trembling with a mix of joy and disbelief, reached out to take the child. The baby felt impossibly small in his arms, her soft skin and closed eyes sending a surge of emotions through him like he had never felt before. He gazed down at her, his chest heaving, overcome by an overwhelming love that threatened to burst from within him. His tears fell freely as he whispered, voice shaking, ¡°I promise... to love you forever. Everything I have, everything I am... is yours.¡±


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    Behind him, Merina stirred slightly, her lips curling into a gentle smile as she heard the vow spoken. Even through her exhaustion, her heart swelled with joy at the sound of Pacificus''s love, knowing their legacy had truly begun.


    A few hours later, Merina awoke, cradled in the embrace of the divine forest. The bed of leaves, vines, and soft branches beneath her formed a natural cradle, holding her with the gentleness of a mother¡¯s arms. The tendrils of life wrapped around her, providing warmth and comfort, a reminder of the Goddess¡¯s presence still watching over them. As she opened her eyes, she saw their newborn daughter at her bosom, nursing with small, delicate pulls that filled the air with quiet intimacy.


    Merina¡¯s voice, soft and filled with love, broke the peaceful silence. ¡°What should we name her, my love?¡±


    Pacificus, seated beside her, his hand gently caressing their daughter¡¯s tiny head, looked down, his heart full but his mind overwhelmed. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ she was born here, in the Ever Resting Forest.¡±


    Merina giggled softly, her voice like a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves. ¡°No need to think that hard, Pacy,¡± she teased, her eyes warm with affection. Then, after a brief pause, she whispered the name that had bloomed in her heart. ¡°Cassandra. Let¡¯s name her Cassandra.¡±


    Pacificus smiled, a soft light flickering in his eyes as he repeated the name. ¡°That¡¯s a beautiful name.¡±


    Merina¡¯s lips curled into a satisfied smile, her gaze shifting to the tiny bundle resting against her chest. ¡°Then that will be her name. Cassandra. Our daughter, Cassandra.¡±


    The couple spent their days in the shelter of the divine tree, cocooned by its protective branches, hidden from the outside world. Pacificus cared for Merina with unwavering devotion, bringing her food, tending to her needs, and ensuring her recovery from childbirth. He became her pillar of strength, guiding her through the days of healing with tender care. He even fed the kirins, those ethereal beasts that had stood watch over them, their presence a symbol of protection and harmony in the sacred forest.


    For two months, they remained there, isolated in their own world of love and nurturing, until the time came to visit Gaia once more.


    The moment they stood before the Goddess of Life, her words sent a chill through their hearts. ¡°This child is already flawed,¡± Gaia said, her voice calm but filled with a truth that struck the couple like a cold wind. ¡°She is blind.¡±


    Merina and Pacificus exchanged a glance, fear flickering in their eyes at the thought. Their baby, their perfect little Cassandra, was blind? The weight of Gaia''s revelation hung in the air like a heavy fog. But before panic could take root, Gaia¡¯s gentle assurance followed. ¡°But do not worry¡­ a flaw is a gift in its own right. And she, too, shall receive her gift from me, without a flaw.¡±


    With a motherly tenderness, Gaia bent down, her vine-like arms cradling the baby as she pressed her glowing forehead to Cassandra¡¯s. In a whisper only the divine could hear, she bestowed her blessing. ¡°You shall see the past and the future, but the present will remain hidden from you.¡±


    As Gaia finished bestowing her gift, the air around them seemed to darken, and a bone-chilling cold crept into the clearing. The vibrant life of the Ever Resting Forest grew still, as if all the world held its breath. A shadow, unseen but deeply felt, stretched across the space, making the couple¡¯s skin prickle with an instinctual fear. The presence of death had arrived.


    Thanatos, the Primordial God of Death, filled the clearing with his formless yet overwhelming essence. Though his figure could not be perceived, his presence pressed down on their hearts like an invisible weight. The air thickened with dread, and the sacred ground seemed to hum with his ancient power. Both Pacificus and Merina stiffened, their hands trembling as the primal terror washed over them.


    His voice, when it came, was not a sound heard with ears, but a whisper that echoed within their minds. Low, deep, and cold, it seeped into the very marrow of their bones. He spoke directly to the child in Merina¡¯s arms, his tone dark and inevitable, like the passage of time itself.


    "Your words will hold power, but you will never be able to lie."


    The couple stood paralyzed, their breaths shallow and uneven. Pacificus instinctively tightened his grip on Merina¡¯s hand, while Merina clutched their daughter tighter against her chest. The weight of his words settled over them, heavy and unyielding. The newborn stirred slightly, unaware of the monumental fate placed upon her by these primordial forces.


    Then, as suddenly as he had come, Thanatos withdrew. His suffocating presence ebbed away like the receding tide, leaving behind an eerie stillness in its wake. The oppressive cold vanished, replaced once more by the warmth of Gaia''s sanctuary. But the couple could still feel the imprint of his visit, as if death itself had brushed against them for but a moment.


    Gaia¡¯s eyes, filled with an ageless wisdom, turned once again to Pacificus. Her expression remained soft but solemn, as though she, too, carried the gravity of the moment. The goddess exhaled a breath that stirred the leaves around them, bringing with it a sense of finality.


    "With our gifts," Gaia intoned, her voice rising in a tone both majestic and motherly, ¡°we now give this child a name.¡± The words rang through the forest like a decree from the heavens, the leaves above rustling as if the forest itself had heard and acknowledged the announcement. Gaia¡¯s presence grew luminous, her vine-like arms cradling the energy of life and fate as she spoke with pride.


    ¡°Young one, you will be known as Ananke,¡± Gaia declared, her voice resonating with an authority that seemed to echo through the very roots of the earth. ¡°Rise and live, Ananke. You will live as a mortal, and die as a mortal.¡±


    The name seemed to pulse in the air, wrapping itself around the child like an invisible shroud. Pacificus and Merina exchanged a glance, still feeling the weight of the divine within the clearing. They knew their daughter had been touched by forces far beyond their understanding, her future now intertwined with powers of life, death, and destiny.


    In the arms of her mother, Ananke remained quiet, still too young to comprehend the magnitude of her naming. Yet, in the stillness that followed Gaia''s pronouncement, it seemed as though the earth itself had acknowledged the birth of something more than mortal¡ªa child bound to both the fragile existence of human life and the immutable laws of fate.


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    "Azrael" as Gaia spoke his name, Pacificus felt a shiver run down his spine. The name, given by the goddess herself, now carried with it a weight of destiny he couldn¡¯t shake. He turned to face her fully, his breath caught in his throat, eyes wide with desperate hope and fear.


    ¡°There are ingredients,¡± Gaia continued, her voice steady and filled with ancient wisdom, ¡°that could save your beloved, should you wish to pursue them.¡±


    Pacificus¡¯s heart skipped a beat. His mind raced at the possibility, clinging to every word as though they were his last hope. ¡°How¡­ how could I find these ingredients?¡± His voice trembled, betraying the fear he tried to contain.


    Gaia¡¯s eyes, filled with an understanding beyond mortal comprehension, rested on him. ¡°There are several,¡± she began, each word slow and deliberate, ¡°and you need only one to save her.¡±


    ¡°The core of a demonic primarch¡­¡± she said, and with those words, the air seemed to grow heavier, as if the very mention of such a thing disturbed the balance of the forest. Pacificus¡¯s blood ran cold, and beside him, Merina¡¯s body tensed. Demons¡ªmonstrous beings that haunted humanity¡¯s darkest nightmares, creatures of chaos and destruction. And a primarch¡ªthe ruler of such demons¡ªwas a god among their kind, a being of unimaginable strength and malevolence. The thought of confronting such a creature was unimaginable.


    Gaia¡¯s voice didn¡¯t waver as she continued. ¡°The second is the heart of an Ancient Dragon.¡±


    If the mention of a demonic primarch had been terrifying, this was worse. Pacificus¡¯s knees weakened. A dragon was a living cataclysm, a force of pure destruction, a creature that could lay waste to entire civilizations. But an Ancient Dragon¡ªone that had lived through eons¡ªwas a walking apocalypse. Facing one would be to challenge the very essence of devastation itself. His heart sank deeper into the abyss of fear.


    But Gaia was not done. ¡°The Flower of Rejuvenation can be found beyond the great ocean, where the ancestors of your grandmother once lived,¡± she explained. The idea of crossing an ocean, a journey that would take months or even years, to a distant and forgotten land, was daunting, yet not as frightening as the first two options.


    ¡°The Vines of Restoration grow in the Sand Ocean, where your mother was born.¡± Gaia¡¯s words painted a picture of a place harsh and unforgiving. The Sand Ocean¡ªa vast desert, endless and punishing, where survival was its own battle.


    ¡°And lastly,¡± Gaia¡¯s voice softened slightly, ¡°the Immortal Fruit, which can be found in the untamed lands.¡±


    Each of these places, these ingredients, seemed more impossible than the last. Yet, they were his only chance, his only hope to save the woman he loved. He felt the weight of the moment bearing down on him, the vastness of the world and its dangers looming before him like an unscalable mountain.


    Gaia¡¯s gaze never wavered, her tone gentle but firm. ¡°Tell me, Azrael, would you do it?¡±


    Pacificus stared ahead, his mind swirling with the enormity of what lay before him. He thought of Merina, her laughter, her smile, the way she had always looked at him with love in her eyes. He thought of their daughter, still so new to the world, fragile and small. His heart twisted painfully in his chest. Could he leave them, knowing the dangers, knowing the time it would take to find even one of these ingredients?


    ¡°I will,¡± he said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. ¡°I¡¯ll save her.¡±


    The air grew still, and Gaia¡¯s gaze softened further, as though she saw the storm of emotions within him. ¡°Azrael,¡± she said, her voice almost a whisper, ¡°the challenge is not just the distance. But the dangers that lie in between. It will take you years to find even one of these ingredients. You could spend those years with the ones you love¡ªrather than pursuing a cure.¡±


    Her words hung in the air, a gentle yet crushing reminder of the reality he faced. Pacificus stood frozen, his hands trembling slightly as he turned his gaze to Merina, who sat quietly beside him. Her eyes, filled with love and understanding, met his.


    Could he leave her? Could he sacrifice years¡ªyears they would never get back¡ªto pursue a cure? His mind reeled with the thought of missing their daughter¡¯s first steps, her first words. Could he bear to be gone, knowing that time would move on without him?


    Gaia¡¯s voice broke the silence, her words gentle but unwavering. ¡°Azrael. The decision is yours.¡±


    Pacificus¡¯s chest tightened, and he felt the full weight of his decision press down on him. Every heartbeat echoed in his ears as he stood on the precipice, torn between love and duty, between the impossible and the unbearable.


    ¡°Whatever your decision, Azrael,¡± Gaia¡¯s voice softened, yet it carried the weight of an unbreakable promise. ¡°You will need strength for the path ahead. Come to me, my child. Your blessing has been long overdue.¡±


    Pacificus, feeling the gravity of her words, took slow, deliberate steps toward the goddess. As he drew closer, Gaia¡¯s form, woven from the living essence of nature itself, expanded to embrace him. Her branches, leaves, and vines stretched out like welcoming arms, glowing softly like embers in the night, wrapping around him in a protective cocoon. Her warmth seeped into him, comforting yet powerful, filling him with a sense of belonging and ancient strength.


    As the vines touched his back, he felt a sudden surge of energy coursing through him. The runes that had been etched onto his skin, silent for so long, now began to glow. The symbol of Gaia¡ªintertwined with that of Thanatos¡ªflared to life, the tree of life and death burning into his flesh with radiant power. It was not pain he felt but a deep connection to something much larger than himself, to the cycles of life, death, and rebirth that governed the universe.


    ¡°You have grown, Azrael,¡± Gaia whispered, her voice soothing yet immense. ¡°Close your eyes and see the fruits of your own efforts.¡±


    Obeying her command, Pacificus shut his eyes, letting the energy within him guide his vision inward. What he saw took his breath away. His soul, vast and uncharted, was laid bare before him¡ªa bright universe filled with countless stars, each one representing a part of his essence, his strength, his potential. The stars twinkled in clusters, some brighter than others, some distant and faint, but all connected by invisible threads of power. And in the center, shining like a beacon, were the runes of Gaia and Thanatos, their symbols burning like twin suns in the cosmos of his soul.


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    <td style="width: 99.9696%; text-align: left" colspan="2">Pacificus Azrael Tahimik (II - Awakened) Farmer / Monk</td>


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    Blessing:


    <ul>


    <li>Gift and Gaia and Thanatos: The blessed one will receive two gifts each one contains flaws.</li>


    <li>Champion of Gaia and Thanatos: The blessed one''s talent was recognized by the primordial gods, receiving a new skill or spell from the Deities.</li>


    <li>Destined One: The blessed one acquired a skill that was recognized by the laws of existence. An increased in potential was given to the blessed one.</li>


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    <td style="width: 99.9696%" colspan="2">Farmer (Beginner) Monk</td>


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    Agricultural Philosophy:


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    <li>FAST GROWTH (Common): Crops planted by Pacificus Azrael Tahimik are bound to grow faster than the norm allowing for more harvest.</li>


    <li>NUTRITIOUS COOK (Rare): Food cooked by Pacificus Azrael Tahimik are not only more delicious but also more nutritious than normal.</li>


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    Martial Philosophy:


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    <li>Inertial Manipulation (Unique): Pacificus Azrael Tahimik is more sensitive towards motion. He can control and redirect movement provided it made contact with his weapon or his body.</li>


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    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Strength</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">MMS/SSS+</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Dexterity</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">MM/SS+</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Agility</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">MM/SS+</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Speed</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">MM/SS+</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Stamina</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">MMS/SSS+</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Vigor</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">MMS/SSS+</td>


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    <td style="width: 99.9696%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Gifts</td>


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    <td style="width: 49.9848%" rowspan="2">Gift of Potential</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Skill: The gifted one has an immense increased gift in potential.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Flaw: The gifted one has an immense decrease in the gift of experience.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%" rowspan="2">Gift of Fate</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Skill: The gifted one is beloved by the fates, hence the immense good luck.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Flaw: The gifted one is hated by the fates, hence the immense bad luck.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%" rowspan="2">Parry/Inertia Manipulation (Unique)</td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Skill: The gifted once can redirect any attack that comes towards him.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Flaw: The gifted one cannot learn any new combat skills and can only use the skill once attacked.</td>


    </tr>


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    <td style="width: 99.9696%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Main Skills:</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%" rowspan="12">Farmer (Intermediate)


    </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Terraforming (Beginner)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Planting (Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Harvesting (Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Maintenance (Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Strong Back (Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Domestication (Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Green Thumb (Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Livestock (Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Fertilization (Intermediate)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Cooking (Journeyman Master)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Quick Growth (Common)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Nutrition Boost (Rare)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%" rowspan="4">Monk


    </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Shared Blessing</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Purification</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Clan Management</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9848%">Parry (Unique)</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    But as he gazed upon this vast inner universe, his heart tightened. There was no joy in his expression¡ªonly concern. The enormity of the power he held was daunting, and the responsibility that came with it weighed heavily upon him. His eyes lingered on the runes, the symbols of life and death, and he realized how fragile the balance was, how easily it could tip, and how much was now expected of him.


    ¡°How do you want to spend your potential, Azrael?¡± Gaia¡¯s voice echoed in his mind, reverberating through the stars that made up his soul.


    The question lingered, heavy with meaning. The potential he had¡ªhis strength, his power¡ªcould be used in so many ways, for so many purposes. But there was only one path he could see before him, one truth that burned brighter than all the stars combined.


    Pacificus opened his eyes, his gaze steady, unwavering. ¡°All of it,¡± he said, his voice quiet but firm, filled with resolve. ¡°I need all of the strength I can to save them.¡±


    The words hung in the air, a solemn vow. His chest rose and fell with the weight of his declaration. He knew that by choosing this path, by giving all of himself, he would become something more, something both magnificent and terrifying. Yet it was the only way¡ªthe only way to protect the ones he loved, the only way to face the unimaginable trials that awaited him.


    Gaia¡¯s embrace tightened slightly, her vines pulsing with a soft, rhythmic energy that mirrored his own heartbeat. ¡°So be it, Azrael,¡± she murmured, her voice a quiet acceptance of the path he had chosen.

 Chapter 31: Cassandra鈥檚 Gift

    Upon the back of the great avian beast, the couple sat in silence, their hearts heavy with a weight no creature¡ªno matter how mighty¡ªcould bear to lift. The avian, a colossal figure, glided effortlessly through the sky, its enormous wings spanning across the heavens like a veil, casting shadows large enough to swallow entire towns. Its feathers were a pale, dull white, blending seamlessly into the clouds above, yet atop its head rested a crown of brilliant, iridescent colors, a stark contrast to its otherwise ghostly appearance. The beast''s talons gripped the air with authority, the single claw on each wing allowing it to walk with an unnatural grace when it touched the earth. Its long, powerful legs ended in razor-sharp talons, and its tail, vibrant and plumed, trailed behind it like a banner of splendor.


    Yet despite the magnificence of their ride, there was no joy between the couple. Pacificus and Merina sat in stony silence, the wind pulling at their clothes and hair, but neither moved, neither smiled. The tension was palpable, like the crackle of a storm on the horizon. Below them, the world passed by in a blur, but neither seemed to notice. Their minds were trapped in a moment from a few hours ago, replaying the painful conversation that now hung between them, unspoken but ever-present.


    "Please, Pacy¡­ don¡¯t," Merina had pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation as she reached for him, her eyes wide with unshed tears. "Please, Pacy, don¡¯t."


    Pacificus had turned to face her, his heart aching as he met her gaze. "I have to do this, Rina," he replied, his voice low and steady, though inside, he was crumbling. "I have to¡ª"


    "PLEASE!" Merina¡¯s voice rose, sharp and raw, her tears finally spilling over as she interrupted him. "Let me spend the time I have left with you!" The words came out in a sob, her pain finally breaking through her calm facade.


    Pacificus flinched as though struck, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right words, but nothing he could say would ease the anguish in her voice. "R-Rina, please," he stammered, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. "I... I-I want you to live. I want you to be here, to be a mother for longer than just¡ª"


    "SO YOU CAN LEAVE ME?" she cried, her voice trembling with anger and grief. "PACY! I DECIDED TO HAVE OUR CHILD BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! And now..." Her voice broke, her shoulders shaking as her sobs overtook her. "So why? Why would you leave me now, when I need you most?"


    "I¡¯m not leaving you," he whispered, his own voice trembling. "I¡¯m trying to save you, Rina."


    Her eyes, filled with sorrow and disbelief, bore into his. "But how long will you be gone, Pacy?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with fear. "How long will it take? Five years? Ten? PACY, I¡¯M ONLY HUMAN! Ten years is too long for me. I don¡¯t know how much time I have left¡­" Her voice faltered, a quiver in her lips. "Pacy... please..." Her hands reached for him, her touch soft, trembling. "Let me be with you... just for as long as I can. Don¡¯t leave me alone now, not for this. Let me be with you until my life finally ends."


    The air between them had grown thick, heavy with the weight of choices that felt impossible. Now, as they sat atop the great avian, the quiet between them was louder than any of the words they had spoken earlier. Merina¡¯s words still echoed in Pacificus¡¯s mind, a constant reminder of the impossible decision he faced. Her tears, her pleas¡ªhe could still feel the ache of them, the way they pulled at his heart, tearing him apart.


    Pacificus clenched his fists, his eyes staring blankly at the endless horizon, knowing that no matter what choice he made, part of him would be lost. The thought of leaving her, of spending years searching for a way to save her, while she withered away in his absence, tore at him. And yet, the idea of staying and watching her die, powerless to stop it, was unbearable.


    Merina, her face turned away from him, wiped at the dried tears on her cheeks. She, too, felt the torment of their shared silence, but there was nothing left to say. She wanted to savor what little time they had, even if it meant letting go of hope. The wind carried her thoughts away, her heart heavy with the knowledge that, no matter what happened, time was slipping through their fingers, faster than either of them could grasp.


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    To distract herself from the heavy weight of the conversation, Merina turned her attention to their daughter, nestled against her. Despite the sorrow and uncertainty that filled her, her heart softened instantly as she gazed at the baby in her arms. Blind though she was, her daughter was a radiant light in Merina''s world, her little face filled with innocent wonder, unaware of the turmoil around her. Each time Merina looked at her, she felt a surge of immense love and joy, a quiet happiness that pierced through the sorrow like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.


    Meanwhile, Pacificus¡¯s thoughts drifted to the small, sacred object in his hands¡ªthe seed given to him by the goddess. He studied it closely, its surface smooth and warm, pulsing with the life force of something divine.


    "This is the seed of Ember," the goddess had explained when she entrusted it to him. "It is a seed from the divine tree that we call home. Plant this seedling in fertile soil and give it a name. If it grows strong and true, you will be able to ask for my guidance without the need to journey back to the Ever Resting Forest."


    The weight of that seed felt heavier than its size suggested. It was more than just a connection to the goddess, more than a link to the divine tree¡ªit was a promise, a bond between Pacificus, his family, and the ancient power that had shown them such kindness. As the avian beast soared through the skies, its powerful wings slicing through the clouds, Pacificus''s mind lingered on everything Gaia had done for them.


    The goddess had blessed them in more ways than they could have imagined. She had lent them this majestic avian beast to aid in their journey home, its presence a constant reminder of her grace. She had bathed Pacificus in divine waters, cleansing the miasma from his body after renewing her blessing making Pacificus stronger. She had blessed their child, transforming her into a gifted one, a child of great potential despite her blindness. And, most importantly, Gaia had given them the knowledge they needed¡ªthe path, however perilous, that could save Merina¡¯s life.


    Pacificus felt a deep sense of gratitude, his heart swelling with appreciation for the goddess¡¯s kindness. He was proud of his allegiance to her¡ªa goddess who did not merely demand worship but cared for her followers, who nurtured them with her wisdom and strength. His loyalty to her was not born from obligation, but from a deep respect and a bond that had grown through their trials.


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    Pacificus gazed at his beloved and their daughter, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. His voice wavered as he spoke, the words almost choking in his throat. "Rina, I... I need to go."


    Merina, cradling their daughter close to her chest, tightened her hold as if to shield their child from the looming reality. She shook her head, her voice quiet but firm. "Not now, Pacy."


    He stepped closer, desperation etched into every line of his face. "Rina... please. I want to save you."


    Merina lifted her eyes to meet his, her expression filled with a quiet resolve. "Pacy... I''m not someone who will live as long as you." Her voice was steady, though a sadness lingered beneath. "In less than ten years, or maybe less than a month, I might be dead." She inhaled shakily, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. "Please, Pacy... let me... just let me spend those last seconds of my life with you."


    His heart ached as he heard her words, the love he held for her clashing with the fear of losing her. "Rina... I want to save you... I want you to be a mother for our daughter." His voice broke, and his gaze fell to the child in Merina''s arms. "I want you to grow old. I wanted to grow old with you. If I could give my lifespan to you, I would do it in a heartbeat." His eyes shone with unshed tears. "Rina... I just want to save you because I love you... and our daughter needs you."


    Merina¡¯s lips trembled, and she reached out to touch his cheek, her fingers gentle but trembling. "Oh, Pacy."


    He covered her hand with his, clinging to her touch as though it were the only thing tethering him to reality. "Rina... please."


    There was a long, agonizing pause before Merina spoke again, her voice softer now, tinged with the acceptance she had already made in her heart. "... I... I¡¯ve already accepted it, Pacy." Her words were quiet, but each one hit him like a blow. "The moment I chose to bring Cassandra into this world... was the moment I chose to die." Her voice cracked as she looked down at their daughter, her tears finally slipping free. "For her sake... and yours."


    "Rina..." His voice faltered, barely more than a whisper, weighed down by the overwhelming emotion surging through him.


    Merina met his eyes again, her expression filled with a mix of love and sorrow. "Pacy... I¡¯m only human. I will die, sooner or later." She smiled softly, though it was tinged with sadness. "Even if I didn¡¯t die because of this illness, I would still grow old. And you... you would stay young, watching me fade away."


    His breath caught in his throat, and his hands shook as he reached for her. "I... I wanted you to die old... I wanted you to live. I wanted you to have a long, happy life."


    A gentle, bittersweet smile crept across her lips. "I am happy, Pacy... but what about you?" Her eyes searched his, filled with a deep, aching tenderness. "How will you find happiness after I¡¯m gone?"


    He stood silent, the answer eluding him, the future he feared suddenly feeling closer than ever.


    "Pacy..." Her voice softened as she looked down at their daughter, cradling the child as if she were the most precious thing in the world. "I chose to have Cassandra because I wanted you to experience being a father. I wanted you to have someone to bring you joy, even when I¡¯m no longer here." She smiled gently, her eyes filling with love as she gazed at their daughter. "She¡¯s my legacy, Pacy... our legacy."


    "Rina..." His voice broke, tears spilling from his eyes as he stared at her, his heart aching with every beat.


    Merina¡¯s hand squeezed his gently. "Pacy... please..." Her voice was a whisper, a plea. "I will say this as many times as I need to... I want to spend my last moments with you."


    The journey was swift, the great avian cutting through the sky like a blade, its wings parting the clouds with each powerful flap. The creature¡¯s vast wingspan seemed to cover the heavens, yet despite its incredible speed, the flight was uncannily smooth. The ancient trees of the Ever Resting Forest stood as towering sentinels, their titanic trunks and sprawling branches forming a maze in the sky. But the avian beast maneuvered with grace, avoiding every obstacle as if it were part of the wind itself.


    Pacificus lay back against the beast''s soft, feathered back, the smoothness of the flight doing little to ease the churn in his stomach. Despite the seemingly effortless gliding, the world around him felt unstable, every shift in the wind and subtle change in altitude adding to the growing nausea in his chest. He had always been sensitive to movement, to the inertia that accompanied it, a side effect of his gift¡ªthe ability to parry, to redirect any force or attack sent his way. But this sensitivity came at a cost, a vulnerability that now plagued him as the dizziness crept into his head, threatening to overwhelm his senses.


    He closed his eyes, taking shallow breaths, trying to steady the swirl of nausea. But no matter how much he tried to focus, his mind was elsewhere¡ªfixed on Merina and their child. The image of his wife holding their daughter flashed before his eyes, the way she cradled her, the softness of her voice as she begged him not to leave.


    His heart clenched painfully in his chest, each beat heavier than the last. Guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving. He felt weak¡ªpowerless. A sickness far worse than the dizziness in his head twisted his insides. He was supposed to protect her, to save her. Yet here he was, fleeing from her side, chasing a chance that seemed more impossible with every breath.


    His thoughts spiraled, dark and unforgiving. Why couldn¡¯t I save her? The question echoed in his mind, tormenting him. His failure loomed over him like a shadow, and with each passing moment, he felt the disgust grow¡ªdisgust at his own helplessness, at his inability to stop the inevitable.


    His eyes opened, staring up at the endless sky, and for a moment, the vastness of it made him feel small. He hated that feeling¡ªthe feeling of being insignificant, powerless. He hated the weakness that gripped his heart, the fear that paralyzed his mind. And yet, despite all his strength, all his power, he couldn¡¯t stop the one thing that mattered most to him: losing her.


    <hr>


    ¡°Pacy?¡± Merina¡¯s voice cut through the roar of the wind, her eyes fixed on the landscape below.


    ¡°Yes, my love.¡±


    ¡°Is that our home?¡±


    Pacificus followed her gaze, his eyes scanning the familiar terrain. But as his vision settled on the scene, his eyes widened in shock. His hut and barns were still there, just as he had left them, but what now surrounded his home was unexpected¡ªa stone temple of Vesta, grand and imposing, stood proudly beside the familiar buildings. Wooden walls encircled his farm like a fortress, and beyond those walls, the land had expanded, stretching far beyond what he remembered, now twice the size it had been. Yet amidst this surprising growth, chaos reigned.


    There, below them, was a war in full swing. The once peaceful farm was now a battlefield, a fierce struggle unfolding between the inhabitants and an unrelenting red tide of wingless grasshoppers, each one as long as a human arm. Women and children, armed with makeshift weapons, fought desperately against the swarm. Pacificus watched as pots were hurled into the seething mass of insects, shattering on impact and releasing clouds of spores from man-eating flowers. He recognized those spores¡ªlethal to insects, they choked the air, making it hard for humans to see and breathe, but for the grasshoppers, it was pure poison. The ground was littered with the fallen insects, their bodies piled high, twitching and dying in the throes of the toxin.


    Yet, despite the carnage, the horde pressed on, undeterred. The grasshoppers devoured their fallen kin, the once-green fields now stained with the colors of battle. It was as if the very land was alive with a nightmarish hunger, the relentless tide refusing to be stopped.


    ¡°Oh¡­ I forgot¡­ it¡¯s summer,¡± Pacificus muttered, watching the siege unfold.


    Merina stared down at the chaotic scene, the fortress of wood and stone standing resilient against the endless assault. ¡°Pacy, didn¡¯t you have man-eating flowers for occasions like this?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Pacificus sighed, his voice heavy with regret. ¡°I forgot to tell them what to do to prevent this from happening.¡±


    Merina¡¯s eyes widened, glancing between the ongoing battle and her husband. ¡°¡­ Pacy, do you always face this every summer?¡±


    ¡°Normally, I would plant some man-eating flowers and clear out the barometz to keep the grasshoppers away. I¡¯d plant a few barometz near the forest so the insects would stay there. But¡­ I failed them. I didn¡¯t expect us to be gone for almost two years inside the Ever Resting Forest.¡±


    Merina continued to watch the struggle below, her gaze following the swarm that seemed endless in number. The defenders, though weary, held their ground, pushing back the tide with determination. ¡°I think they¡¯re doing fine though¡­ besides, those grasshoppers were tasty.¡±


    Indeed, the orphans and followers of Vesta fought valiantly, wielding their tools as weapons in a desperate battle against the relentless tide of grasshoppers. Sickles, once used for harvesting crops, now swung with lethal precision, slicing through the thick, armored bodies of the insects. Hammers that had built their homes now crashed down upon the writhing masses, smashing carapaces with bone-jarring force. Axes, meant for chopping wood, cleaved through chitin and flesh alike, turning the climbing grasshoppers into a blue, sticky pulp that coated the walls.


    Everywhere, the air was thick with the acrid scent of battle¡ªof blood and pollen. Clouds of man-eating flower spores drifted through the air like a deadly mist, turning the swarm into a graveyard of twitching, dying creatures. The once-green fields and wooden barricades were stained in a surreal, blue hue, painted with the spilled blood of the insects. The ground squelched underfoot, slick with the viscous remains of the fallen grasshoppers. Yet the defenders did not falter, their resolve unbroken as they fought with the ferocity of those protecting their home and their lives.


    Amidst this chaotic scene, the air was filled with a different, more inviting aroma¡ªthe rich, savory scent of roasted grasshoppers. Nearby, a young girl with bright yellow hair and vivid green eyes worked diligently, her face smeared with soot and determination. She stood by a makeshift cooking station, skewering grasshoppers over open flames, their bodies sizzling and crackling as they turned a vibrant shade of orange, the color of a perfect roast. Next to her, a large pot bubbled, filled with grasshoppers being boiled with spices and herbs, releasing a heady, mouthwatering steam that drifted into the air. The girl''s hands moved swiftly, stirring and turning, her movements quick and practiced, as if she had done this a hundred times before.


    The defenders, weary from the battle, took turns retreating to the cooking station, their eyes lighting up as they grabbed skewers of the roasted insects. Some sat down, backs against the walls, devouring the crispy, orange-fleshed grasshoppers with hungry abandon. Others ate while still clutching their weapons, keeping a watchful eye on the advancing swarm as they filled their bellies. The scene was a strange blend of survival and sustenance, a testament to their adaptability in the face of adversity.


    Pacificus and Merina could smell the rich, savory aroma from their vantage point, even before the great avian beast gently landed near the stone temple of Vesta. The scent of roasted grasshoppers¡ªnutty, smoky, and slightly sweet¡ªwafted through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of pollen and the faint metallic tang of insect blood. As the bird touched down, its mighty wings folding against its sides, the couple took in the sight of the defenders feasting even in the midst of battle. Children and women, weary but resilient, savored the crispy, cooked insects as though they were a long-awaited reward, some laughing between bites, while others continued to defend their home with unwavering resolve.


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    The great avian descends from the sky with a majestic grace, its massive wings beating against the air in powerful strokes that send ripples through the grass and rattle the loose stones of the farmyard. The women and devoted caretakers of the Vesta orphanage snap into motion, their hearts thundering in their chests as they form a protective line around the entrance, shielding the children from what appears to be an impending threat. Their eyes widen as the enormous creature lands, its talons digging deep into the earth, yet it shows no signs of hostility. Instead, it lowers its colossal form with a slow, deliberate movement, stretching out its enormous wings like a grand staircase descending from a mythical palace.


    Demeter''s excited voice shatters the tension, her arm outstretched as she points toward the creature. "It''s Mother Merina and Big Brother Pacificus!" she exclaims, her voice a blend of shock and elation.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The children¡¯s faces light up, eyes sparkling with joy at the sight of Merina, their beloved caretaker. They rush forward with eager footsteps, their smiles wide and bright, only to pause in their tracks as they notice the small, delicate bundle cradled in Merina''s arms. The air buzzes with curiosity, and their innocent gazes lock onto the tiny figure wrapped snugly in soft fabric.


    "Mother Merina, who is that?" a child asks, her voice tinged with both wonder and confusion.


    Merina¡¯s expression softens, a warm, maternal glow illuminating her features. She holds the bundle closer, a tender smile touching her lips. "It''s our baby. Her name is Cassandra. She is our daughter and your new sister," she says gently, her gaze seeking out Minos, who stands slightly apart from the group, his eyes wide with awe. "Want to see, Minos?"


    The children swarm closer, forming a tight circle around Merina. Their voices rise in a cacophony of questions, overlapping and blending in their eagerness to know more.


    "Where did you find her?" one child asks, their eyes fixed on the newborn.


    "She was born in the Ever Resting Forest, blessed by the forgotten gods," Merina replies, her voice laced with reverence and a hint of mystery.


    "How was she born?" another child inquires, the question innocent yet probing.


    Merina hesitates for a moment, her cheeks flushing slightly at the inquisitive nature of their questions. "Well, she was born under the divine tree in the middle of the Ever Resting Forest," she says, her tone a mix of pride and nostalgia.


    "Did she come out of the tree like a fruit?" a young voice pipes up, eyes gleaming with unbridled imagination.


    Merina chuckles softly, her amusement tempered with a hint of discomfort. "No... she was born," she answers, careful yet kind.


    "How?" The children''s curiosity seems boundless, their eyes wide with anticipation.


    Merina¡¯s cheeks grow warmer, her smile tinged with a nervous edge as she deflects, "Umm... You are too young to know about those things, young Minos."


    A blonde child, her expression serious and determined, jumps in with a different question. "Wait... Mother Merina, are you married now?"


    Merina¡¯s smile brightens, a joyful sparkle in her eyes. "Of course, I am married now," she says, her voice full of happiness.


    "Is it Brother Pacy?" another child chimes in, leaning closer.


    "Of course... he is the father of this baby, you know," Merina confirms, her gaze flickering affectionately toward Pacificus, who watches quietly from the background.


    The children¡¯s innocent interrogation continues unabated, their voices filled with curiosity and playful wonder. Demeter, emboldened by Merina¡¯s answers, steps forward, her tone curious and forthright. "Oh... how did you do it, Mother Merina?"


    Merina tilts her head, momentarily caught off guard. "What do you mean?"


    "How do you make babies?" Demeter presses, her face earnest and eager for knowledge.


    Merina¡¯s eyes widen slightly, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks as she searches for the right words. "Ahh... You are still too young for that, Demeter."


    "No, I¡¯m not, I¡¯m ten," Demeter insists, crossing her arms defiantly.


    Merina blinks in surprise, her gaze softening as she regards the bold young girl. "You¡¯re already ten? Demeter, which god did you choose to serve then?"


    Demeter¡¯s confidence falters, her eyes dropping to the ground as she replies, ¡°I haven¡¯t yet. I wanted to serve Gaia too... but Big Brother Pacificus wasn¡¯t here.¡±


    Merina¡¯s expression softens further, a blend of empathy and gentle encouragement. "Well, he¡¯s here now... By the way, which gods did your siblings pick?"


    The children exchange glances, their faces turning solemn. Demeter speaks up, her voice small but resolute. "All of us... wanted to serve Gaia, actually."


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    After the horde of red grasshoppers was finally dealt with, Pacificus gathered the children to help with the grim task of disposing of the insect corpses. The lifeless bodies of the grasshoppers were carried to a site near the river, far from the farm¡¯s fertile grounds but close enough to water the land. They dug a large pit, wide and deep, where the remnants of the grasshoppers were unceremoniously buried. The air was thick with the acrid scent of crushed carapaces, mingling with the earthy smell of damp soil. When the last of the corpses had been covered, Pacificus planted the seed that Gaia had given him, pressing it gently into the mound of disturbed earth. The grasshopper corpses, though a grotesque reminder of the battle, would serve as rich fertilizer for the seedling if it chose to grow.


    With that task complete, Pacificus moved to replant several man-eating flowers and Barometz near the Ever Resting Forest. He worked methodically, his hands moving with the practiced ease of a farmer, mindful of the dangerous flora he was handling. As he planted, he noticed Lasion, a young boy from the orphanage, standing nearby. Lasion watched the man-eating flowers with an intensity that gave Pacificus pause. The boy¡¯s eyes were wide, almost mesmerized, as he observed the carnivorous plants snap and coil with a predatory grace. Pacificus saw something in the boy''s gaze¡ªan affinity that was either passion or the beginnings of a dangerous obsession, though he couldn¡¯t yet tell which.


    Upon their return, Pacificus gathered the children near a grand, ancient tree that stood by the river, its gnarled roots twisting into the earth like the veins of the land itself. The monks of Vesta and the orphans formed a solemn circle around him, watching with reverence as Pacificus performed the quick but profound ritual. One by one, he blessed the children, his voice resonating with the quiet authority bestowed upon him by Gaia and Thanatos. The air around them shimmered subtly, as if acknowledging the new bonds being forged. By the end of the ceremony, Gaia and Thanatos had gained twelve new followers, each marked by their own unique gifts and flaws, adding to the legacy of the forgotten gods.


    However, Pacificus¡¯s duties were not yet complete. He turned his attention to three familiar figures¡ªHyakinthos, Apollo, and Artemis. Nearly two years had passed since he had last blessed them, and in that time, they had grown not just in stature but in spirit. Their eyes met Pacificus¡¯s with a mix of anticipation and humility, knowing that the blessings they would receive were both a gift and a responsibility. As Pacificus invoked the gods, a palpable energy filled the air, and the three children stood straighter, their faces illuminated by the divine recognition bestowed upon them.


    "Artemis ''Luna,'' Apollo ''Solar,'' Hyakinthos ''Adonis,'' stand proud," Pacificus announced, his voice carrying the weight of both pride and reverence. "Champions of Gaia, the goddess and her consort have borne witness to your deeds and deemed you all worthy to be her champions."


    The three flinched slightly, taken aback by the gravity of their new titles, but soon they bowed gracefully before Pacificus, accepting the honor with quiet dignity. Without hesitation, they dashed towards the river, eager to cleanse themselves of the lingering miasma and the foul stench that will clung to their skin after the blessing.


    The other children quickly followed, their voices rising in a chorus of eager questions and playful chatter, while Pacificus made his way back to his hut. He paused at the porch, watching from a distance as Merina sat surrounded by the women and monks, her sisters in all but blood. Their attention was fixed on Cassandra, the tiny bundle in Merina¡¯s arms. Cassandra¡¯s eyes, one a piercing red and the other a deep violet, mirrored the heterochromia of her father. Her hair, a striking white, fell in soft wisps around her small face, eerily similar to Pacificus¡¯s own.


    "Cassandra looks like Pacificus, doesn¡¯t she?" one of the women remarked, her voice filled with a mix of admiration and curiosity.


    "Will she be tall like her father?" another asked, studying the baby¡¯s delicate features with interest.


    "She¡¯s awfully calm for a baby," someone observed, noting the quiet and composed manner in which Cassandra seemed to take in her surroundings.


    Merina¡¯s sisters continued to fawn over the baby, their voices a blend of affection and playful teasing. "Merina, how did you keep your figure, dear? The last time I gave birth, I became fat," one of the women joked, poking Merina gently in the side.


    Merina laughed lightly, shaking her head. "I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, sister."


    An elderly woman, Mother Leto, stepped forward, her movements slow but purposeful. Her wise eyes, lined with the marks of time, focused on Merina with a maternal warmth. "Merina dear, are you okay?" she asked softly, her tone filled with concern.


    "Of course, Mother," Merina replied with a reassuring smile.


    Mother Leto leaned in closer, peering at the tiny infant cradled in Merina¡¯s arms. "Let me see the young one," she said gently, reaching out with careful hands. As she gazed at Cassandra, her expression softened with affection and something akin to nostalgia. "Oh my... she looks just like her father. What did you name her, dear?"


    "Her name is Cassandra, Mother," Merina said proudly, her voice filled with a tender joy.


    Mother Leto¡¯s brows furrowed slightly as she looked deeper into Cassandra¡¯s mismatched eyes, noticing something that had escaped the others. "Ahh... hmm... dear... is your baby... blind?" she asked, her voice softening, touched by a trace of sorrow.


    Merina¡¯s smile faltered for just a moment, but she nodded gently, her gaze never leaving Cassandra¡¯s face.


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    Leto¡¯s eyes lingered on the child, her aged hands trembling ever so slightly as she took in the infant¡¯s features. Cassandra, so small and fragile in Merina¡¯s arms, appeared serene, her cherubic face framed by soft, snowy locks that shimmered faintly in the afternoon light. But it wasn¡¯t Cassandra¡¯s unusual appearance that unsettled Leto; it was the way the baby was staring back at her.


    Cassandra¡¯s mismatched eyes¡ªone a deep, unsettling crimson, the other a violet so dark it seemed to swallow the light¡ªwere unnervingly focused. There was no innocence, no aimless wandering of a baby¡¯s gaze; instead, Cassandra¡¯s eyes followed Leto¡¯s every movement with a piercing precision. The baby¡¯s expression was disturbingly calm, her delicate features set with an almost eerie composure. It was as though she was not simply observing but evaluating, dissecting every detail of the world around her.


    Leto felt an inexplicable chill run down her spine, her heart fluttering uneasily in her chest. She tried to dismiss the sensation, chalking it up to her age or perhaps an overactive imagination. But as Cassandra¡¯s eyes locked onto hers, Leto couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she was being seen in a way no infant should be capable of. There was an intelligence behind those eyes¡ªsharp, calculating, almost ancient¡ªthat belied Cassandra¡¯s tender age.


    It was a gaze that held knowledge far beyond her few months of life, a gaze that did not belong to a child but to someone far older, wiser, and perhaps, more dangerous. Leto shivered, a subtle but palpable dread creeping into her bones. It was as if she were standing before a formidable presence cloaked in the guise of an infant.


    Leto tore her eyes away, forcing a smile as she tried to dismiss the unease clawing at her thoughts. Yet, the impression lingered¡ªan unsettling awareness that she had glimpsed something in Cassandra¡¯s eyes, a depth of understanding far too profound, far too knowing for a baby who had yet to take her first steps.


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    That night, Cassandra lay nestled in a crib that the orphanage had given to her family, a simple yet sturdy structure lined with soft blankets that swaddled her tiny form. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of the hearth, and the gentle crackling of the fire filled the quiet space. Though Cassandra''s mismatched eyes remained shut, her mind was wide awake, her awareness reaching far beyond the confines of her crib. She was a baby in form, but her senses were anything but ordinary.


    Despite her blindness, Cassandra could see. Not in the way others saw, but in a manner far more profound and haunting. Visions danced before her closed eyes, vivid and inescapable. She saw her mother, Merina, lying frail and pale on a bed, her strength ebbing away with each passing moment. Cassandra¡¯s father, Pacificus, was at her side, his face a portrait of despair as he wept, powerless to stop the inevitable. Apollo, her older brother, worked frantically, his hands trembling as he tried to save their mother, his determination bordering on desperation. But the strain was too much for him; he collapsed in a faint, and Hyakinthos, his lover, rushed to his side, panic etched across his beautiful features. Artemis stood nearby, overwhelmed by the weight of the scene unfolding before her, unable to do anything but watch in silent horror.


    Cassandra felt the ache of this future as if it were happening now, the pain of loss piercing her tiny heart. Twenty years from now, she thought with a heaviness that belied her infant form. Twenty years from now, this is what awaits.


    The vision shifted, and she saw her parents in moments of tender intimacy. Merina and Pacificus clung to each other, bound by a love that was both fierce and fragile. She watched as her father¡¯s strength faltered, as he held Merina close, powerless against her decline. The days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, each one marked by Merina¡¯s gradual weakening, until that final breath slipped from her lips. Cassandra felt the weight of her father''s sorrow, the way he would hold onto every fleeting moment as if trying to memorize the feel of Merina¡¯s warmth, knowing it would soon be gone.


    Yet not all she saw was sorrow. There were glimpses of happiness too, bright and vivid. She saw herself growing, nurtured by her father¡¯s unwavering love. Pacificus, ever the doting parent, teaching her the ways of the world with patient hands, his lessons woven with the wisdom of a man who had lived many lives. She saw her mother, smiling, tenderly brushing back her hair as they shared quiet moments together. There were memories of laughter, of gentle embraces, and of the simple joys of being loved.


    ¡°I was blessed by good parents,¡± Cassandra thought, tears slipping down her cheeks, though no one could hear the silent lament of her infant soul. The future unfolded like an endless tapestry, and all she could do was watch.


    The smell of cooking wafted through the room, rich and savory. Cassandra recognized it immediately: the distinct aroma of Barometz stew and roasted grasshoppers, her father¡¯s specialties. She had seen herself savoring these meals in the visions¡ªrich, hearty bites that warmed her from the inside out. But here, now, she was merely a helpless infant, unable to taste the food she knew she would one day adore. Regret swelled within her, a strange feeling for a newborn to harbor, but her memories were not those of a child.


    She felt a gentle motion, the sensation of being lifted from her crib. Merina¡¯s arms wrapped around her, warm and secure, and she felt her mother¡¯s heartbeat thrum steadily against her own small body. Cassandra wasn¡¯t surprised; she had seen this moment before, the way Merina would cradle her and draw her close. As if on instinct, Cassandra¡¯s toothless mouth sought her mother¡¯s breast, and she began to nurse, the natural act of a baby fulfilling its most basic needs. But inside, Cassandra felt something different¡ªa sense of awkwardness that prickled at the edges of her consciousness.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she reassured herself, fighting the embarrassment that came with knowing too much. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m still a baby girl¡­ it¡¯s perfectly normal. I¡¯m a baby girl¡­ it¡¯s perfectly normal.¡± Yet the thoughts lingered, a silent plea echoing within her. ¡°Gods, please let me grow quickly.¡±


    Merina hummed softly, a lullaby that filled the quiet night, and Cassandra found some comfort in the familiarity of her mother¡¯s voice. But the awareness of her own strange condition lingered, mingling with the visions of what was to come. As she fed, she could feel the love radiating from her mother, warm and unyielding, and it brought a fragile sense of peace to the storm of thoughts swirling within her mind. For now, at least, she was safe. For now, she was simply a child in her mother¡¯s arms, held by a love that felt as vast and unending as the night sky above.


    The next day, Cassandra found herself secured snugly on her father¡¯s back, nestled into a soft, woolen carrier that felt like a gentle embrace. The warmth of the sun filtered through the thin fabric, casting dappled light across her tiny face. She felt its soft touch, warm and comforting, as if the day itself were welcoming her into its embrace. The rhythmic motion of Pacificus¡¯s steps lulled her into a sense of tranquility, and though her senses were sharp, Cassandra struggled to keep her eyes open. The woolen carrier was so comfortable, so perfectly made, that sleep tugged at her with every sway of her father¡¯s movements, threatening to pull her under again and again.


    Cassandra¡¯s awareness, however, remained keen. She understood the pattern of their days, knew that while her mother, Merina, busied herself with her craft, Pacificus would take over her care. Her mother was a tailor, and Cassandra had seen in countless glimpses how her father¡¯s eyes would soften whenever he watched Merina immersed in her work, the careful way she measured and stitched with delicate precision. It was a joy he indulged by shouldering the responsibility of their daughter, securing her safely against him as he tended to his crops. Cassandra¡¯s world became the steady rhythm of her father¡¯s heart and the gentle rocking of his movements, a soothing dance that filled her days with a sense of quiet contentment.


    Yet, as comfortable as she was in the present, her mind wandered relentlessly toward the visions that plagued her. Cassandra had already seen the events of today unfold¡ªher mother focused on her sewing, her father diligently working the fields¡ªbut some futures remained elusive. Her father¡¯s destiny was shrouded in a strange fog, blurred and indistinct, like a book with pages missing. It was not just him. Apollo, Hyakinthos, Artemis, even the young boy named Zus were similarly obscured, their paths twisting away from her sight whenever she tried to grasp at them.


    Zus, in particular, unnerved her. For a child so young, he cast a shadow that loomed over the orphanage¡¯s future like a storm on the horizon. Cassandra¡¯s visions of him were sparse yet deeply unsettling¡ªglimpses of him entwined with many of the girls she knew, their faces marked by fear, sorrow, or resignation. Ten years from now, many of these girls would bear his children, and the thought chilled her to the bone. It was a future she couldn¡¯t escape, one that hung over her like a curse. And then there was Hera, a noblewoman who would one day marry Zus. Cassandra¡¯s visions of Hera were the most troubling of all; she was a woman of formidable wrath, with eyes that burned with unrelenting fury. Hera terrified her far more than Zus ever could, her presence a stark reminder of a fate that Cassandra desperately wished to avoid.


    As Pacificus worked, his hands tending to the rows of crops that lined their small farm, Cassandra¡¯s gaze drifted to the seed he had planted¡ªthe one Gaia had given him. In her mind¡¯s eye, she saw the seed¡¯s future, a grand vision of a towering tree that stretched skyward, its massive trunk dwarfing the landscape around it. She saw her father¡¯s hut relocated, the tree¡¯s roots having grown too vast and powerful for the tiny dwelling to remain where it was. But that was a sight twenty years in the making. For now, the seed lay nestled in the earth, hidden beneath layers of soil, and Cassandra knew it would be weeks before even the smallest sprout broke the surface. The knowledge filled her with a sense of impatience, a gnawing frustration that she could not yet act.


    Cassandra¡¯s thoughts returned to the problem that haunted her most: her mother¡¯s fate. She needed to speak, to communicate her knowledge somehow. If she could just find her voice, perhaps she could convince her father to take action, to pursue some path that would lead to saving Merina. But there was another thread of possibility that nagged at her¡ªthe birth of her brother. In the tangled web of futures she had seen, the arrival of a sibling was a rare occurrence, yet one that held immense significance. Her brother¡¯s presence could be the catalyst that moved Pacificus to act, to see the urgency of the situation with new eyes.


    But as much as Cassandra hoped, she knew that this thread of time was unlikely to manifest. Her parents, in their quiet devotion to her, had placed their own desires aside. Their days were filled with gentle affection and shared responsibilities, but the passion that would lead to another child seemed distant, replaced by the duties of parenthood. Cassandra felt a spark of irritation, a childlike exasperation boiling up within her.


    ¡°Why are you such good parents?¡± she silently lamented, her tiny fists clenching at the unfairness of it all. ¡°Make my brother already! So Papa can finally move! Gods help me!¡±


    It was an absurd complaint, one borne of desperation rather than reason, but it was all she had. Cassandra¡¯s small form shifted slightly as she squirmed against her father¡¯s back, her thoughts churning in a mix of impatience and helplessness. She wanted to act, to change what she saw, but for now, all she could do was wait¡ªwait and hope that the threads of fate would twist in her favor.


    But who could blame her? Though Cassandra was still a baby in body, her mind was anything but. The relentless flood of visions that assaulted her every waking moment had shaped her in ways no infant should ever endure. She had seen glimpses of the past, haunting and tender memories of her parents¡¯ struggles and triumphs, moments that painted a picture of love and loss far beyond her years. And then there were the futures¡ªan endless cascade of possibilities, each more complex and layered than the last, threading together a tapestry of joy, sorrow, and everything in between.


    Every night, as she lay in the darkness of her crib, Cassandra¡¯s mind raced through the images, scenes unfolding like pages of a story she was powerless to rewrite. She had seen herself grow, watched as her infant form morphed into that of a girl, a teenager, and eventually a young woman. She witnessed her own successes and failures, her joys and heartbreaks, and it was as if she had already lived those years, time compressing and folding in on itself within the confines of her small body. She had seen herself learning to speak, to walk, to wield knowledge with the sharpness of a blade, and though none of these things had yet come to pass, they lingered in her mind, vivid and real.


    Cassandra¡¯s visions had gifted her with a depth of understanding that defied her physical age. It was as if the experiences of a lifetime had been poured into her, not gradually, but all at once, drowning her in the weight of countless memories and futures. Her thoughts were not those of a baby but of someone far older, burdened by the wisdom and heartache of years she had yet to live. There was a keen intelligence in her, a sharpness that cut through the haze of infancy. She knew too much, felt too deeply, her emotions layered with the kind of nuance that only came with age.


    The irony of it all was not lost on her. Cassandra was trapped in the fragile form of a newborn, unable to speak, to act, or to change anything she had seen. Yet within her, the mind of a teenager¡ªperhaps even a young adult¡ªseethed with the frustration of knowing too much and being able to do so little. She understood the gravity of her parents¡¯ sacrifices, the fleeting nature of their time together, and the terrible fate that awaited her mother. She saw the tenderness in her father¡¯s every gesture, the quiet sorrow that lingered behind his eyes, and it pained her to know that she could do nothing to ease his burden.


    Cassandra¡¯s consciousness was a fractured thing, caught between what she was and what she knew. Every touch, every sound, every moment was a reminder of her own helplessness. The visions had made her wise beyond her years, yet they had also robbed her of the innocence she was meant to have. She was a child of two worlds¡ªthe physical reality of infancy and the sprawling expanse of time that played out endlessly in her mind. The weight of that duality bore down on her, heavy and unyielding, leaving her caught in a perpetual state of longing for a future that always seemed just out of reach.


    And so, she waited, confined to the present yet burdened by all that was yet to come. She clung to the warmth of her father¡¯s back, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her, and tried to find comfort in the simplicity of the moment. But no matter how hard she tried, the visions would not be silenced. They were her constant companions, a reminder of the impossible knowledge she carried within her¡ªa mind aged far beyond her years, forever yearning for the power to change the fate she had seen.

 Chapter 32: Cassandra鈥檚 Vision

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    Cassandra watched her parents go about their evening tasks, her father tending to a bubbling pot over the fire, and her mother working on her latest sewing project, the flicker of lantern light casting soft, warm hues across their faces. She listened to the steady rhythm of her father¡¯s cooking, the clatter of wooden spoons and the occasional sizzle as he adjusted the pot. Every detail was vivid in her mind, sharper than it had any right to be for someone so young.


    "Papa," Cassandra¡¯s voice broke the quiet, soft yet startlingly clear, like the first note of a melody played after a long silence.


    Pacificus glanced over his shoulder, his expression gentle as he stirred the pot. ¡°Yes, my love?¡± he replied, his tone filled with affection as he tasted the soup, savoring the rich aroma of the herbs and vegetables simmering together.


    Cassandra hesitated for only a moment, her sightless eyes seemingly focused on a distant point, as if peering into the future that only she could see. Then, with the innocent bluntness that only a child could possess, she said, ¡°I want a brother.¡±


    The words hung in the air, cutting through the night¡¯s tranquility like a knife. Merina¡¯s hands froze, her needle slipping from her grasp and clattering softly onto the wooden floor. The sudden stillness was palpable, and she stared at her daughter, wide-eyed, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. Pacificus, caught completely off guard, flinched as if he¡¯d been struck, his hand jerking so violently that he nearly knocked the pot off its stand. He coughed, sputtering as the soup he¡¯d been tasting went down the wrong way, his eyes watering as he tried to compose himself.


    For a moment, the only sound was the hiss of the fire and the faint rustle of Merina¡¯s fabric as it slipped from her lap. The crickets outside seemed to grow louder, their chirping filling the heavy silence left in the wake of Cassandra¡¯s unexpected request. Pacificus looked at his daughter, his face a mixture of shock and bewilderment, while Merina slowly bent to retrieve her fallen needle, her hands trembling slightly as she picked it up.


    They exchanged a glance, both knowing that their daughter was no ordinary child, but even with all they had come to expect from her, this was... something else entirely. The innocence of her words was almost heartbreaking, layered with an eerie understanding that neither parent could fully grasp. Pacificus swallowed hard, his mind reeling from the implications, while Merina¡¯s breath hitched, a thousand unspoken questions flashing in her eyes.


    Cassandra, oblivious to the impact of her words or perhaps keenly aware in a way that made it all the more poignant, simply watched them. The tiny furrow of concentration on her brow was at odds with her small, cherubic face. She waited for their response, her expression calm and composed, as if she had merely asked for another story before bedtime.


    ¡°Cassandra, my dear,¡± Merina said softly, her voice trembling just a bit as she tried to rein in the whirlwind of emotions stirred up by her daughter¡¯s innocent yet disconcerting words. She set her sewing aside, her gaze softening as she looked at Cassandra, perched with childlike poise at the edge of their conversation. ¡°We can¡¯t have another baby. You are already more than enough for us.¡±


    Cassandra tilted her head, a determined pout forming on her tiny lips. ¡°But I want a brother.¡±


    Merina¡¯s smile was strained, a mix of love and the gentle caution of a parent navigating a delicate topic. ¡°That¡¯s not how it works, sweetheart. We wouldn¡¯t even know if you¡¯d have a little sister or a brother.¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s eyes, though blind, held a certainty that sent a shiver through Merina¡¯s heart. She spoke with the conviction of one who had already seen the truth unfold. ¡°No, I will have a little brother. I saw it.¡±


    Merina chuckled nervously, trying to brush off her daughter¡¯s words. ¡°You and your silly dreams, Cassie.¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver; she folded her tiny arms with the stubborn resolve that Merina knew all too well. ¡°My dreams aren¡¯t silly, Mama. It¡¯s the truth. I can see the past and the future.¡±


    Merina exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with Pacificus. They both knew their daughter spoke the truth, for one of the flaws bestowed upon her by Thanatos was her inability to lie. Every word out of Cassandra¡¯s mouth was the unvarnished, sometimes unsettling, truth. ¡°You and your wild imagination, dear,¡± Merina said, attempting to maintain her composure.


    Cassandra¡¯s tiny brow furrowed as she insisted, ¡°But it¡¯s not my imagination. It¡¯s my vision, Mama. I¡¯m honest. I¡¯m the most honest girl in the world.¡±


    Merina¡¯s voice softened, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Cassandra¡¯s ear. ¡°I know, dear. I have a feeling that if I did get pregnant again, I might give you a brother.¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s face lit up with innocent hope, her fingers grasping at the loose fabric of her dress. ¡°Can I have a brother now?¡±


    Merina hesitated, the weight of her daughter¡¯s question pressing down on her. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not that easy, Cassie, dear.¡±


    Cassandra seemed to contemplate this for a moment, her lips pursing before she nodded as if accepting a difficult truth. ¡°Hmm¡­ okay¡­ Can I have some soup now?¡±


    Pacificus, who had been listening quietly, jumped at the chance to change the subject. ¡°Of course,¡± he said, his relief palpable as he ladled the steaming broth into a small bowl.


    Cassandra smiled, her small teeth barely visible. ¡°Grandma Leto would like some too. And Sister Demeter, she always loves to cook. She needs to talk to Lasion more¡ªI think they look great together.¡±


    Merina blinked, her needle still in hand as she turned to Pacificus, whispering, ¡°Doesn¡¯t Demeter think Lasion is annoying?¡±


    Cassandra continued, undeterred. ¡°She¡¯ll learn to like him, Mama. I know it. Just make them cook together. She¡¯s just jealous that Lasion knows how to make better food than her.¡±


    Pacificus and Merina exchanged bewildered looks. Cassandra¡¯s sudden penchant for matchmaking had not gone unnoticed, though it was unnerving how accurate her predictions seemed to be.


    Cassandra¡¯s voice broke the silence again. ¡°Oh, Mama, Papa, tell Grandma Leto that Grandpa Lelantos will return tomorrow.¡±


    Pacificus¡¯ hand stilled, and Merina¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Are you sure, dear?¡± Merina asked, her voice a mix of hope and disbelief.


    ¡°Yes, Mama,¡± Cassandra nodded confidently. ¡°Though many will not return.¡±


    A heavy silence settled over the room, and Merina¡¯s heart sank at the implication. ¡°Oh¡­ that is¡­ that is just¡­ Oh.¡±


    Cassandra reached out, patting Merina¡¯s hand with her own tiny one, attempting to offer comfort. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mama. Grandpa is alive. And, oh¡ªtell Mommy Hypatia to wait at the Temple of Vesta. She¡¯s finally going to meet her husband.¡±


    Merina¡¯s eyebrows shot up in intrigue. ¡°Cassie, what do you mean by husband?¡±


    Cassandra shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. ¡°He was a slave of her teacher, and she will bear his babies.¡±


    Merina¡¯s jaw dropped, her shock mirrored by Pacificus, who nearly dropped the ladle he was holding. ¡°WHAT?!¡± Merina exclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and the sudden, overwhelming realization that Cassandra¡¯s visions were far more complex¡ªand far-reaching¡ªthan they could have ever imagined.


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    Cassandra¡¯s legs were still too weak to carry her, but her determination was boundless. She crawled everywhere, dragging herself across the wooden floor of their small hut, her tiny hands gripping at every surface with surprising strength, though her arms lacked the muscle to match. She explored every nook and cranny of their home and occasionally ventured into the nearby Temple of Vesta. She had learned to carefully climb out of her crib and navigate the stairs, but she never went beyond the safety of the walls, aware of the dangers that lay outside.


    In her explorations, she found solace in the quiet company of her unlikely ally¡ªGrandma Leto, the ever-watchful guardian who seemed to understand her in ways that others could not.


    Cassandra lay sprawled on Leto¡¯s lap, her little fingers fiddling with the hem of the elder¡¯s dress, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Grandma, I can see the past and the future,¡± she said, her tone matter-of-fact, as if she were speaking of the weather.


    Leto gently stroked Cassandra¡¯s hair, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and affection. ¡°I know, dear. I know you keep saying that to me. But Cassie, love, try not to talk about those things when others are around. Gods, the first time you spoke, I nearly thought you were possessed by a demon.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Grandma,¡± Cassandra murmured, her head nuzzling closer to Leto¡¯s warm embrace.


    Leto sighed, shaking her head softly. ¡°So, what do you need me to do, dear?¡±


    Cassandra hesitated, her small voice betraying the weight of her thoughts. ¡°Mama and Papa need to make a baby.¡±


    Leto froze, her hand stilling in Cassandra¡¯s hair as she tried to process what she¡¯d just heard. ¡°...Pardon?¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s eyes, unseeing yet filled with a knowing depth, remained fixed ahead. ¡°Papa is a hybrid like me. Mama will become weak after a year¡­ and after twenty years, she will die, even with Big Brother Apollo¡¯s help.¡±


    Leto¡¯s breath caught in her throat, and she clutched Cassandra a little closer, her heart aching at the revelation. ¡°Oh¡­ oh, my poor daughter. But, Cassie dear, why do you need a younger brother so badly?¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s tiny hands balled into fists as she lay against Leto¡¯s lap. ¡°Because Papa wouldn¡¯t hesitate to go on a journey to save Mama if he knew she was pregnant¡­ Papa is strong. I think¡­ I think he can save Mama. I just don¡¯t want Mama to die.¡±


    Leto¡¯s eyes filled with tears she fought to hold back, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and dread. ¡°You think?¡±


    Cassandra nodded, her voice soft and uncertain. ¡°Yes¡­ For some reason, Grandmama, I can¡¯t see Papa¡¯s future. It¡¯s like he¡¯s too strong¡­ but I think he can save Mama.¡±


    Leto¡¯s brow furrowed, her thoughts swirling with worry. ¡°Dear, what if the reason your vision comes true is because your father went to save her?¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s face scrunched up in confusion. ¡°That can¡¯t be right. Papa was there. If he didn¡¯t go on a journey, then he shouldn¡¯t be there.¡±


    Leto¡¯s heart tightened at the child¡¯s reasoning. ¡°Are you sure, dear?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Grandmama¡­ also, Grandpapa will return now. Tell Mommy Hypatia to meet them at the temple.¡±


    Leto nodded slowly, her eyes distant as she processed Cassandra¡¯s words. ¡°Oh¡­ I already know, dear. Your parents told me about that. But they never told me about you being the child of a hybrid.¡±


    Cassandra tensed, her small form shrinking in Leto¡¯s arms.


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Are you angry, Grandmama?¡± Cassandra¡¯s voice was small, laced with fear and guilt.


    Leto¡¯s heart broke at the question, and she lifted Cassandra¡¯s chin gently, forcing the little girl to face her. ¡°For what, dear?¡±


    ¡°For me¡­ being born¡­ I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m the reason Mama is dying¡­ I¡ª¡±


    Leto pulled her closer, hugging the fragile child with all the love she had. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare say that, dearie. Don¡¯t say that. Your mother loves you, and she chose you to live. And so would I.¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s small body shook with the silent sobs she tried to hold back, and Leto rocked her gently. In that quiet moment, Leto vowed to protect this fragile child, no matter what fate had in store.


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    Cassandra saw it¡ªthe future that awaited her. She saw the suitors, their eyes gleaming with hunger, lust curling at the edges of their gazes. She knew what would happen when people learned about her gift, when they realized she could unravel the secrets of the future and the past. She shuddered, her small body tense as the visions flickered through her mind.


    ¡°Nope,¡± she muttered to herself with quiet determination. ¡°I¡¯m definitely not telling them that.¡±


    There were futures¡ªtoo many¡ªwhere she had revealed the nature of her powers to the wrong people. It never ended well. The only ones she could trust were her parents, her grandmother, and her three older siblings. They were safe, but she couldn¡¯t risk anyone else. Everyone else was a question mark, a danger lurking in the threads of destiny.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Her gaze fell on the trio before her. Hyakinthos, his graceful form moving with a delicate fluidity as he prepared a meal; Apollo, sitting nearby, engrossed in a scroll, his golden hair catching the light; and Artemis, fast asleep on the orphanage¡¯s porch, exhausted from the night''s hunt.


    Cassandra¡¯s heart ached as she looked at Hyakinthos, her sadness filling her young, wise eyes. She closed them, retreating into the endless visions that spun through her mind. She was always thinking, always seeing, always calculating the paths that lay ahead.


    But exhaustion caught up to her. Before she realized it, she had drifted off, her small body falling into the comforting embrace of sleep. When she woke, she found herself nestled in a soft crib, the familiar scent of the blankets and the warmth of the room telling her who had placed her there. She didn''t need to guess¡ªher sister Demeter had found her and carried her to bed. Cassandra knew this because she had quickly looked into the past, a task she found far easier than peering into the future.


    With a determined grunt, she crawled out of her crib, her small hands and legs working quickly as she explored the orphanage once more. She moved with purpose, her destination clear. She wanted to find her mother. Mama was washing blankets, as usual, probably scrubbing clothes at the edge of the farm¡¯s walls. Her father had requested that no one wash clothes near the river to avoid disturbing the wildlife, so the women often gathered in safer areas. But getting there was dangerous for a baby, even one like her, so she sought out her trusted ally.


    She crawled up to Hyakinthos and bumped his leg with her tiny hand.


    Hyakinthos, startled, looked down to see the infant at his feet. His eyes widened in shock, though he quickly softened. ¡°Cassandra? What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Mama! Mama! Mama!¡± Cassandra babbled. She wanted to say, Big brother, take me to Mama, but she knew better than to speak so clearly. It would only alarm Hyakinthos. Instead, she chose to act like the infant she appeared to be.


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± he chuckled softly, his delicate features glowing as he bent down to pick her up. Despite his graceful appearance, Hyakinthos was strong¡ªfar stronger than his slender frame suggested. Lifting her was as effortless as lifting a feather.


    There was another reason she had chosen him. She knew what was about to happen.


    As Hyakinthos carried her toward Merina, he spotted her sitting beneath a tree, resting from her chores. ¡°Mother Rina,¡± he called softly, ¡°Cassie was looking for you.¡±


    Merina smiled as she reached out for her daughter, her arms opening wide. But when she tried to stand, her body suddenly felt heavy¡ªtoo heavy¡ªand she stumbled, collapsing back onto the ground.


    ¡°RINA!¡± Hyakinthos shouted in panic, rushing to her side. ¡°MOTHER RINA!¡±


    <hr>


    Merina woke to the sight of a familiar ceiling, its wooden beams bathed in the soft morning light filtering through the windows. The moment she recognized it, she knew she was in Pacificus''s hut. The scent of herbs from the kitchen mingled with the faint earthy smell of the Ever Resting Forest outside. She wasn¡¯t alone. Her ears caught the low murmur of voices, tense and full of emotion.


    She turned her head slightly and saw her husband, Pacificus, standing near the door, pale as a ghost, his brow furrowed in despair. His posture was rigid, his fists clenched at his sides, and every muscle in his body seemed taut, ready to break from the weight of his decision. Across from him sat Leto, her adopted mother, calm but grave, her wise eyes reflecting the sadness she shared with them both.


    ¡°I need to go,¡± Pacificus''s voice trembled with urgency. His words were heavy, almost desperate. ¡°It¡¯s starting¡­ I need to go¡­ I can¡¯t, Mother Leto. I can¡¯t just stand here and do nothing while she gets weaker every day.¡±


    His voice cracked with the weight of his helplessness. The room felt suffocating to Merina as the gravity of his words sank into her chest. She could see how deeply it tore at him, this impossible choice, the thought of leaving her in her fragile state while he sought a cure.


    Leto looked up from where she sat, her aged hands resting on her lap, fingers gently entwined. ¡°Young man¡­¡± she began softly, her voice a steady anchor in the storm of emotions swirling in the room. ¡°No¡­ I think you should ask for her permission first. This might be the last time you see her alive. I don¡¯t want your last memory of her to be a bitter one.¡±


    Pacificus lowered his head, his breathing labored. The tension in the air was thick, pressing down on them all. Merina could feel it¡ªthe strain in his every breath, the torment in his eyes.


    She pushed herself up slightly, her voice weak but steady. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Pacy,¡± she managed, her lips forming a small smile. She wanted to comfort him, to ease the burden she knew he carried. ¡°Mother... I¡¯m fine.¡±


    But before she could say more, Leto¡¯s sharp gaze turned toward her, piercing and unwavering, as if she could see straight into Merina¡¯s soul. ¡°Are you?¡± Leto asked, her tone unwavering but not unkind. Her words were laced with a deep knowing. ¡°Merina¡­ I... We know your husband is a hybrid. In fact, I didn¡¯t even know it was possible for the two of you to have children¡­ but you did. And she is a beautiful child. But Merina dear, allow me to be blunt¡ªyou are not fine.¡±


    Merina opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat. Leto lifted a hand, silencing her before the argument could even form.


    The older woman¡¯s hand reached out, gentle but firm, and she took Merina¡¯s hand into her own. Her touch was warm, filled with the weight of a mother¡¯s care. ¡°I¡¯m asking you this, my child, because I, too, want you to live. I wanted you to live longer than me. For I, as a parent, cannot bear the simple thought of outliving my own child. Merina, please¡­ take care of yourself. Allow your husband to go on the journey to save you.¡±


    Tears welled in Merina¡¯s eyes, her vision blurring. ¡°M-Mother? H-h-how did you know?¡±


    Leto¡¯s grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly. ¡°I¡¯m not senile yet, young one. Many of your siblings are hybrids themselves. Of course, I know the reason why hybrids are often ostracized¡ªit¡¯s because their births often lead to their parents¡¯ demise, though I don¡¯t know why. But I do know one thing¡ªthose children don¡¯t want to cause harm to their parents. You didn¡¯t want to either.¡±


    Merina¡¯s gaze dropped, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°I¡­ I just want¡­ to spend my last moments with those I love, Mother... Is it too much to ask?¡± Her tears fell freely now, her body trembling with the weight of her sorrow.


    ¡°No, my dear,¡± Leto whispered, her voice full of warmth and understanding. ¡°It is not too much to ask. But my child¡­ I don¡¯t want to see my children die before me. If I could trade my remaining life for yours, I would do so without hesitation. My dear Merina, please¡­ help yourself as well. Let us help you, help yourself.¡±


    Merina sobbed softly, her heart aching. ¡°M-mother¡­ I¡¯m sorry for burdening you... The truth is¡­ I¡¯m afraid. I¡¯m afraid to die. I¡¯m afraid of what will happen to Cassandra after I pass away. I¡¯m afraid of what will happen to Pacy when I¡¯m gone. But¡­ but I am willing to die for them. I am willing to die for their happiness.¡±


    Leto leaned closer, her voice filled with tender strength. ¡°Merina, my darling¡­ that is your mistake. You are part of that happiness. You are their light, their love. Don¡¯t cast yourself aside as if you are separate from the joy they feel.¡±


    Merina managed a weak chuckle through her tears, her hands trembling as she wiped her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m going to die anyway, Mother... I don¡¯t want to trouble everyone for my inevitable demise.¡±


    Leto shook her head gently, her eyes brimming with affection. ¡°You¡¯ve always been like this¡­ both of you,¡± she said, glancing between Merina and Pacificus. ¡°Always taking everything on your shoulders, too afraid to ask for help. But asking for help isn¡¯t being a burden, my children. It¡¯s a refusal to give up. Take these words from an old woman who has lived many years¡ªMerina, my child, let us help.¡±


    <hr>


    Hyakinthos, Artemis, and Apollo stood just behind the door, holding their breath as they listened to the heart-wrenching conversation unfolding inside the room. Their eyes were wide with shock, the weight of Merina¡¯s condition settling heavily on them. Each word they overheard only deepened the knot of fear in their hearts. The realization that Merina''s life was slipping away struck them like a blow, a truth that had been veiled by hope now revealed in its stark, devastating reality.


    Cassandra, held securely in Hyakinthos''s arms, could feel the shift in his embrace. His grip tightened around her small frame, not out of fear for her, but out of the overwhelming sorrow he felt for her mother. Cassandra knew, with a clarity far beyond her years, the reason for his silent distress. In every vision she had glimpsed, not once had these three turned their backs on her mother. They would always come forward to help¡ªno matter the cost. And she had seen the cost. One of them would lose their life because of it.


    Her small heart ached with guilt. Was it her fault? She knowingly sealed their fates by orchestrating this event, by allowing them to overhear the truth of her mother¡¯s condition? She closed her eyes tightly, searching through the swirling visions in her mind for a way to undo what was already set in motion. One life to save another¡­ was that truly the right decision? Doubt gnawed at her tiny soul, her thoughts heavy with the weight of what might come.


    When they returned home, she pretended to be asleep, her small body limp in her mother¡¯s arms as Merina carried her to her crib. The soft scent of her mother¡¯s skin, the faint rhythm of her weakening breath, all pressed against Cassandra¡¯s senses. She wanted to stay in this moment, to let go of the future and just feel the warmth of her mother¡¯s embrace. But she knew too much. Her visions never left her mind.


    Moments later, the atmosphere of the village shifted. Excitement rippled through the air like a rising wave. A shout broke the stillness:


    ¡°THEY ARE BACK! THE MEN ARE BACK! THE WAR IS FINALLY OVER!¡±


    A woman¡¯s voice pierced the air, and soon after, a chorus of cheers erupted. The village buzzed with an electrifying joy. The war, which had claimed so much, had finally come to an end. The men were returning.


    Cassandra lay still in her crib, her small fingers clutching the edge of the blanket, listening to the distant cries of relief and celebration outside. The joy of the village was palpable, echoing in every corner of the orphanage and spilling out into the streets. The sound of carriages being loaded up, the chatter of women and children preparing to greet their loved ones, swirled around her.


    The anticipation was thick. She could hear their excitement¡ªthose men were brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands. The war had taken so many, and now, finally, they were coming home.


    <hr>


    Outside, Pacificus stood apart from the crowd, his eyes scanning the scene as he watched the women and orphans rushing toward the carriages pulled by sturdy bulls. His posture was strong, but there was a quiet sorrow in the way his gaze lingered on the people around him. He saw Leto being guided by her many children, her frail form perched atop the carriage, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of her lips.


    After a moment, Pacificus turned his attention to Merina, standing a short distance away. She looked down at the ground, her once bright eyes clouded with sadness. The joy of the returning men didn¡¯t reach her. There was a heaviness in the way she stood, her shoulders hunched slightly, as though the weight of her condition pressed down on her more with each passing second.


    Pacificus approached her slowly, his heart breaking at the sight of her suffering. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands, lifting her chin so that their eyes met. The love in his gaze was undeniable, a raw, desperate kind of love that begged for more time. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, then with more urgency, as though that kiss could bind her to him, keep her alive just a little longer.


    ¡°I love you,¡± he whispered against her lips, his voice trembling with emotion. ¡°I love you. I love you¡­ and I want you to live.¡± He kissed her again, his forehead resting against hers. ¡°So please, my love¡­ give me the chance to save you.¡±


    Merina stood still, her lips parted slightly, her breath uneven. She couldn¡¯t look at him, the pain too deep. She felt his love, his desperation, but her heart was torn between the desire to stay and the acceptance of her fate. Her hands trembled as she lowered her head again, the silence stretching between them like an unspoken plea.


    ¡°...¡±


    He called her name, softly, a whisper of hope. ¡°Rina?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Rina?¡± His voice cracked this time, the fear of her silence tightening his chest.


    Finally, her voice broke the stillness, fragile and wavering. ¡°All... right...¡± she whispered, barely audible at first. Then, with more strength, though her voice trembled, ¡°Pacy¡­ please¡­ save me.¡±


    Pacificus let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding. His heart swelled with a fierce determination, his hands gripping her arms as though to anchor her to this world. ¡°I will,¡± he promised, his voice low but filled with resolve. ¡°I will save you. No matter what it takes, I will save you.¡±


    <hr>


    Then Cassandra saw it¡ªa new thread, shimmering in the tangled tapestry of fate. But this one was different, more complex than any she had seen before. It glimmered with a strange, elusive light, harder to read, harder to grasp. The thread twisted and looped upon itself, knotting and weaving with others in ways that made her head spin. It wasn¡¯t just one destiny¡ªit was many, all interwoven, all converging on a single point.


    Her vision shifted, and she found herself amidst a series of flashes¡ªdisjointed but vivid. An inventor, working tirelessly in a dimly lit workshop, sparks flying as he crafted something unknown yet powerful. The piercing cry of a newborn echoed in the distance, filled with both life and sorrow. She saw a giant standing tall, his shadow stretching across a barren land, his face filled with weariness and anger. A slave, shackled and beaten, yet defiant, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to survive. Then, an elven woman, her delicate face contorted with heartbreak, sobbing as she called out for her father, her voice filled with unbearable grief.


    And then, amidst it all, a god¡ªfurious and seething. His divine roar shattered the heavens as he called out a single name, his voice filled with venom, as if casting a curse.


    ¡°PACIFICUS!¡± the god bellowed, his voice reverberating across the skies, shaking the very fabric of the world.


    But it wasn¡¯t just him. Cassandra heard it again, and again, from different voices, each one echoing her father¡¯s name with varying tones. Some called his name with fear, their voices trembling with terror as though Pacificus were a force they could not control. Others spoke with reverence, as if he were a hero, a savior worthy of worship. There were those who called him indifferently, his name merely passing through their lips as if it held no weight. And then, others called his name with an aching, desperate love.


    The name "Pacificus" echoed far and wide, across the great desert, where the sun scorched the land into oblivion, and over the tumultuous, raging storm of the unnamed sea, where waves crashed like thunder. His name rippled through the lands of giants, where towering beings spoke it with both respect and dread, and it reverberated in the realm of demons, where monstrous voices hissed and whispered it, filled with malice and curiosity. His name was everywhere, chanted in a never-ending loop, as though the very world had come to revolve around him.


    ¡°PACIFICUS! PACIFICUS! PACIFICUS!¡± they chanted¡ªgods, mortals, creatures of every kind¡ªeach time his name was spoken, the faces shifted and blurred, the voices changed. Some were filled with hope, others with rage.


    ¡°SAVIOR! MURDERER! MONSTER! HUMAN! SLAYER! ABOMINATION! MORTAL!¡±


    The words twisted together like the tangled threads she had seen, interweaving, overlapping, until they became a single, chaotic cry. It was overwhelming, a cacophony of emotions and judgments, all swirling around her father¡¯s name. Cassandra¡¯s head throbbed as the chanting grew louder, more intense, pressing against her mind like a thousand voices screaming all at once.


    Then, the vision shifted once more, and she saw something that made her blood run cold. Herself¡ªstanding in the center of it all. Her small, fragile body surrounded by shadows, dark and menacing.


    Her breath hitched, and a shiver crept down her spine as her gaze met theirs¡ªone hundred and eight men, their eyes glinting with hunger, their stares filled with a lust that turned her stomach. She had seen this vision before, too many times to count, but each time it filled her with the same bone-deep terror. They weren¡¯t just men; they were kings, priests, men of power and authority. And they all looked at her the same way, like she was something to be claimed, to be used.


    Cassandra¡¯s heart pounded in her chest, a familiar dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She knew their names, each one etched into her mind like a curse. These were not ordinary men¡ªthey were rulers, priests of high standing, men who would stop at nothing to take advantage of her gift. They didn¡¯t see her as a person. No, to them, she was a vessel¡ªa means to an end. They wanted her for what she could give them, for the power that flowed through her veins, for the long life she carried, and they wanted her to bear their so-called successors, to pass on that legacy to their children.


    She could feel their eyes crawling over her, every gaze dripping with greed and desire, as though they had already claimed her. Her heart raced, her skin crawling under the weight of their stares.


    Is this my fate? she wondered, her throat tightening with fear. In all her visions, this nightmare was where it always ended. She could never see past it. Every time she tried, it was as if the future stopped here, as if she wasn¡¯t meant to live beyond this moment. The thought clung to her like a shadow¡ªwould she never see the age of twenty? Would this be the end?


    But more than the fear of death, it was the thought of being trapped by them that terrified her. The men, with their lustful eyes, their hunger for power and immortality, wanted to use her¡ªto take away her freedom, her life. They wanted to make her a pawn in their games, a tool to create long-lived kings, to stretch their reigns beyond the natural order.


    Cassandra clenched her fists, the familiar weight of despair settling in her chest. To say she feared this fate was an understatement. It was her deepest terror, the nightmare she could never escape.


    End of the Prologue

 Chapter 33: One Last Time

    Pacificus cradled his beloved daughter in his arms, her small frame secure against his chest. The warmth of her tiny body brought both comfort and sadness to his heart, a tender reminder of what he was about to leave behind.


    "Cassie," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment. His eyes, heavy with the weight of his upcoming journey, locked onto her innocent face. "Please¡­ perhaps it is silly of me to ask this of you, a baby¡­ but, please, Cassie, take care of your mother while I¡¯m gone."


    Her response was quick and clear, her voice small yet filled with wisdom far beyond her years. "I will, Papa."


    "Cassie¡­" he asks, hesitantly. "Yes, Papa?" she answered, her large, soulful eyes looking up at him with trust.


    "How long will I be gone on this journey?"


    A long pause lingered in the air, thick with uncertainty. Cassandra, usually confident in her visions, hesitated. Her brow furrowed, as if peering into the unseen threads of destiny but finding only knots and tangles. "I¡­ I don¡¯t know, Papa." Her tiny voice wavered, full of confusion and a hint of fear. "Your thread in the tapestry of fate seems to¡­ move a lot. It¡¯s confusing, Papa. I really don¡¯t know what will happen to you."


    Pacificus¡¯s heart clenched at her words. "I see," he said quietly, trying to hide his own unease for her sake.


    But it was Cassandra¡¯s turn to seek reassurance. Her small hand reached up, clutching at his shirt, her eyes searching his face for comfort. "Papa," she called, her voice barely a whisper.


    "Yes, dear?" he answered, his heart already aching at the thought of leaving her behind.


    "You¡­ you will come back, right?"


    He looked down at her, his resolve hardening, though the shadows of uncertainty still lingered. "Of course," he promised, his voice steady, yet inwardly, doubt gnawed at him. But for her sake, he would face anything.


    Merina watched them from across the room, her heart twisting painfully as she observed the scene. Bitterness welled up inside her, an uninvited guest gnawing at her insides. She felt it in the pit of her stomach, the raw sting of her own fragility. Her eyes, glassy with unspoken sorrow, reflected the love between father and daughter, and yet¡­ the ache of her mortality sat heavy within her. She was the source of this burden, this mission that tore them apart. She felt like a weight around their necks, dragging them into a desperate fight to keep her alive. The bitterness festered, but alongside it was something else. A small flicker of warmth. The knowledge that her family¡ªher beloved Pacificus and their precious Cassie¡ªwould go to such unimaginable lengths to save her stirred something deep within her. It was impossible to ignore the quiet joy that flickered through the bitterness, knowing she was loved so fiercely, so completely.


    But even so, the sorrow did not fully leave her. She felt the heavy price of their love and the dark uncertainty that clouded their future. Yet, in that moment, the only thing Merina could do was be grateful that her family was willing to face the world for her sake.


    As Merina sat on her porch, her nimble fingers worked carefully, weaving the threads of cloth meant for her beloved husband and infant daughter. The soft rhythm of the loom was soothing, a gentle comfort in her otherwise heavy heart. The fabric slowly took shape, each thread infused with love and the hope of a future she feared might slip away. Her eyes momentarily drifted to the horizon, catching sight of movement in the distance.


    A visitor.


    A carriage crested over Pacificus''s farm, drawn by two mighty oxen whose hooves thudded rhythmically against the earth. The oxen''s powerful forms glistened in the late afternoon sun, their muscles rippling as they pulled the rugged carriage forward. The wooden wheels creaked as they rolled, accompanied by the faint rustle of hay and leather. At the reins sat a robed man, his posture relaxed yet firm as he steered the beasts onward. A wooden staff lay by his side, well-worn from years of use. On his lap sat a young girl, her bright, innocent smile shining as she gazed up at him, her eyes full of admiration.


    ¡°Daddy, Daddy,¡± the girl called out, her voice filled with bubbling enthusiasm, ¡°how did you become a wizard?¡±


    The man chuckled softly, his laughter warm and paternal. "You need to become a scholar first before you study wizardry, little pumpkin," he replied, his tone playful but instructional, as though he had answered this question many times before.


    "Is Mommy a wizard too?" she asked, her wide-eyed curiosity impossible to resist.


    ¡°Of course,¡± he said with a grin, his hand lightly brushing her hair. ¡°Everyone can become a wizard, pumpkin. But now, get off my lap¡ªyou¡¯ve gotten heavier since the last time I saw you.¡±


    The girl frowned, clinging tighter to him, her small arms wrapping around his waist. "No, Mama says you''ll disappear again if I leave your side," she said, her voice quieter now, a hint of worry creeping in.


    The man''s smile faltered for just a moment, a shadow passing through his gaze. He chuckled again, though this time it carried an undertone of melancholy. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere, pumpkin. Never again.¡±


    From the carriage, another voice called out, soft yet firm, with an unmistakable presence. "We¡¯re here, dear."


    The man tensed slightly, feeling a familiar chill run down his spine. His grip on the reins tightened for a brief moment. ¡°Asteria¡­¡± he began, turning toward the woman seated beside him, ¡°when did you start calling me ''dear''?¡±


    Asteria, with her sharp eyes and playful smirk, tilted her head ever so slightly. "You mean I can¡¯t be sweet to my dear husband for once?" she teased, her voice dripping with honey.


    The man, Perses, laughed nervously. "Y-you weren''t like this when I left, Asteria... Are you really my wife?"


    She gave him a sly smile, reaching out to grip his chin, her fingers cold against his skin. "Shut up and put the oxen there," she commanded, her tone playful yet firm.


    Perses¡¯s relief was palpable, his lips curling into a grin. "Oh¡­ so you are still my wife," he muttered under his breath, just as Asteria pulled his face closer to hers. She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, her voice suddenly dropping to a sultry tone.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been gone for more than six years,¡± she murmured, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. ¡°Six long years I¡¯ve waited for you, and as my husband, it¡¯s your responsibility to keep me happy¡­ and satisfy my desires. You better prepare yourself, Perses,¡± she added with a playful bite to his ear, ¡°because I¡¯ve been starved for more than six years.¡±


    Perses¡¯s eyes darkened with amusement and lust, his voice dropping to match her teasing tone. He kissed her neck, his lips grazing her skin before he leaned close to her ear, whispering back with a smirk, ¡°I¡¯ve been holding my urges for years¡­ You¡¯d better prepare yourself in bed, you damned tramp.¡±


    Asteria''s eyes flashed with mischief, her hand tightening its grip on his face. Their gazes locked, a lusty grin spreading across her lips as she taunted him. ¡°You¡¯d better not disappoint me,¡± she said with a challenge in her voice, her eyebrow arching provocatively. ¡°We¡¯ll see if you last more than a minute this time.¡±


    Perses laughed under his breath, his grin never fading.


    Meanwhile, in the background, a woman with dark, sunken eyes and large, tired bags beneath them dismounted from the carriage. Her gaze flickered with clear disdain as she watched the couple, her expression one of disgust. She wrinkled her nose, her lips pressed into a thin line as she silently hopped down from the carriage, clutching a small bag tightly in her arms.


    Without a word, she began walking toward Merina, who sat weaving clothes on her porch, her back straight and her fingers moving swiftly over the loom. The woman¡¯s worn face betrayed her exhaustion, but she moved with a quiet, determined grace. The stark contrast between the loud, teasing banter of the couple behind her and the quiet diligence of Merina was palpable as she slowly approached, her eyes narrowing in focus.


    Merina¡¯s smile softened as she greeted her sister. ¡°Hypatia,¡± she said warmly, her voice touched with a tinge of curiosity. ¡°What brings you and Asteria here?¡±


    Hypatia, her once luminous eyes now dulled and rimmed with the red evidence of sleepless nights, stared back at her with a gaze so piercing it seemed to cut through the air between them. The heavy bags beneath her eyes only accentuated the weariness, but there was no mistaking the fire behind them. Anger smoldered there, quiet but unmistakable.


    ¡°Mother Leto told us,¡± Hypatia replied, her voice cold and sharp. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell us, Merina?¡±


    The words struck Merina like a slap, causing her to flinch. The chuckle that escaped her lips was weak, fragile, like something that might shatter under the weight of the conversation. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to bother anyone, Hypatia... I... I just wanted to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough excuses, Merina,¡± Hypatia interrupted, her tone steady but cutting, each word landing with precision. She reached into her bag, pulling out a small, neatly bundled parcel, and handed it to her sister. ¡°Here, sister. Use this to help your husband save your life.¡±


    Merina looked at the offered bag, her confusion evident. ¡°What are you talking about, si¡ª¡± Her words trailed off as her eyes widened in shock, staring at the contents inside. Her breath hitched, hands trembling as she touched the magical threads. They shimmered faintly, imbued with a subtle glow that hinted at their immense power.


    ¡°Sister, these are... I can¡¯t accept this,¡± Merina protested, her voice breaking as she tried to push the bag back.


    ¡°Oh no, Merina,¡± Hypatia responded with grim determination. ¡°You are going to accept it.¡±


    ¡°But I can¡¯t,¡± Merina insisted, her voice almost pleading. ¡°Sister, do you even know what these are?¡±


    ¡°Magical threads,¡± Hypatia said flatly. ¡°Yes, I know what those things are.¡±


    ¡°H-how did you even manage to get these?¡± Merina¡¯s voice wavered, barely above a whisper.


    For a brief moment, Hypatia¡¯s face twisted into a look of disgust. ¡°My master gave them to me,¡± she spat, her voice laced with bitterness.


    A silence fell between them, heavy and thick. Merina¡¯s gaze softened as understanding dawned. ¡°Oh¡­¡± She glanced at her daughter, still cradled in Pacificus¡¯s arms, and asked hesitantly, ¡°He¡¯s still alive?¡±


    Hypatia nodded but looked away, as if turning her face from an ugly truth. ¡°That filth also brought a slave with him.¡±


    Merina¡¯s lips parted in shock. ¡°Oh¡­ Oh no. Is he still... Ahh, uhm... you know.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Hypatia replied darkly, her expression hardening. ¡°The lecherous old man has been trying to get between my legs ever since I was a child¡­ And his advances have become more unhinged and... creepy lately.¡±


    A shudder ran through Merina¡¯s body. Her eyes filled with worry as she asked, ¡°Oh, sister... A-are you all right? He didn¡¯t try to touch you, did he?¡±


    Hypatia smirked, but it was a bitter, sardonic expression. ¡°I won¡¯t let him, sister. Don¡¯t worry about me... though I can¡¯t say the same for his slaves.¡±


    ¡°Slaves?¡± Merina¡¯s voice cracked as she repeated the word. ¡°There¡¯s more?¡±


    Hypatia nodded. ¡°Yes¡­ One man and two women... or should I say two girls... Those poor children.¡±


    A wave of revulsion washed over Merina. She clutched her chest, feeling the weight of the revelation. ¡°Oh... that¡¯s horrible. Even nobles don¡¯t keep slaves¡­¡±


    Hypatia sighed, shaking her head as she looked at her sister with a weariness that went beyond mere exhaustion. ¡°Oh, dear sister... They do keep slaves. They simply refer to them as servants because they don¡¯t want to be labeled as slavers.¡±


    Merina¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Aren¡¯t servants paid?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± Hypatia retorted, her voice tinged with a grim cynicism. ¡°They give you just enough money to eat and rent, but not enough to improve your life. They bind you to contracts¡ªcontracts attached to your soul, binding your very actions. It¡¯s slavery, dressed up as a profession.¡±


    Merina¡¯s face paled. Her lips trembled as she whispered, ¡°Oh... oh no... Hypatia, don¡¯t tell me...¡±


    Hypatia¡¯s gaze darkened further. ¡°Yes, sister. Unfortunately, I am one of those servants.¡±


    The words hit Merina like a punch to the gut. Her eyes darted back to the bag of magical threads. ¡°Sister, you need these threads more than I do. You could sell them to buy your contract back.¡±


    Hypatia chuckled, a sound filled with bitter irony. ¡°Even if I sold those threads, sister, it wouldn¡¯t be enough to pay that pig back. Why do you think he gave them to me in the first place? No, sister¡­ You need these more than I do.¡±


    Merina¡¯s mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in her throat. ¡°But, sister¡ª¡±


    Hypatia silenced her with a raised hand. ¡°I will find a way, sister. Don¡¯t worry about me.¡±


    The frustration and guilt in Merina¡¯s voice deepened as she looked at Hypatia. ¡°Sister, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said don¡¯t worry.¡± Hypatia¡¯s voice was firm, but not without warmth. Her piercing gaze softened just a fraction as she regarded her sister. ¡°Seriously, Merina, you should worry about yourself more. You¡¯re the one who¡¯s dying, not me. Gods above, you are hopeless sometimes.¡±


    Merina¡¯s throat tightened. She knew Hypatia was right, but that didn¡¯t make the weight of her guilt any lighter.


    "Well, obviously," came Asteria¡¯s sharp voice as she approached the two women, her footsteps brisk and sure. She carried a bag in one hand, her movements quick and unceremonious. Without preamble, she shoved the bag into Merina¡¯s hands. "Here, you idiot."


    Merina blinked, startled, and instinctively opened the bag. Her eyes widened at the sight of its contents. "Wait a minute... these are¡ª?"


    "Potions," Asteria cut in, her tone brisk. "Use them."


    Merina¡¯s immediate reaction was to protest, her sense of pride and guilt surfacing all at once. "Sister, I c¡ª"


    "Oh, don¡¯t you dare give me excuses, Rina," Asteria shot back, her eyes narrowing. "Don¡¯t even start."


    Merina swallowed hard, glancing back into the bag. "These things are expensive¡­"


    "I know," Asteria replied, crossing her arms with a huff. "I made them. How do you think I managed to fund my research while taking care of my daughter all these years?"


    Hypatia, standing nearby, eyed Asteria with a mixture of disgust and envy, her gaze darkening at the admission. The two sisters couldn¡¯t have been more different¡ªAsteria¡¯s sharp tongue and fierce independence clashed with Hypatia¡¯s bitterness, and in that moment, the contrast was stark.


    "But¡ª"


    "Rina." Asteria¡¯s voice softened as she reached out and took Merina¡¯s hands in her own. There was warmth in her touch, and for once, Asteria¡¯s usually blunt demeanor was tempered with sincere emotion. "Sister, listen to me," she said, her eyes searching Merina¡¯s with a rare tenderness. "I don¡¯t care about gold or silver. I don¡¯t give a damn about riches. Those things can be replaced¡­ but you? You can¡¯t be replaced." Her grip tightened as if willing her words to sink in. "So, gods above, please¡­ use those potions."


    Merina¡¯s lips trembled, the overwhelming gratitude swelling in her chest, almost too much to bear. Her voice was soft, thick with emotion. "Th-thank you... both of you." She looked from Asteria to Hypatia, the weight of her sisters'' sacrifices pressing heavily on her heart. The potions glimmered in the light as if carrying the very essence of their love and concern.


    She held the bag close to her chest, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. In that moment, the strength of their bond was palpable, and though words seemed inadequate, Merina knew her sisters understood how deeply grateful she truly was.


    <hr>


    Cassandra watched her aunties with wide, curious eyes, her gaze lingering particularly on Hypatia. A mischievous glint sparkled in her expression as if she knew something the others didn¡¯t¡ªperhaps the threads of fate had already shown her what awaited Hypatia. She smiled to herself, but said nothing.


    "By the way," Asteria broke the silence, her voice playful as always, "where is your brat?"


    "Cassandra is with her father," Merina replied casually.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Pacificus?" Asteria raised an eyebrow with a grin, the playful smirk on her face unmistakable.


    "Of course, whose child do you think it is, you damn woman?" Merina shot back with a mock glare.


    Asteria feigned a thoughtful expression. The pause between them stretched, filled with unspoken banter.


    "..."


    "..."


    "Is he big?" Asteria finally asked with a sly grin, her voice dripping with innuendo.


    Merina couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. She threw a knowing glance at Hypatia before responding, "He¡¯s huge," she said with a mischievous smirk, holding up her fingers to indicate a rather exaggerated measurement.


    Hypatia immediately groaned and covered her face with her hands, mortified. "Ugh," she muttered, rolling her eyes in frustration. "We¡¯re really talking about this?"


    Asteria flinched, her eyes widening in disbelief. "No, no, no," she protested, waving her hands as if to banish the mental image. "It can¡¯t be that big! There¡¯s no way it would fit."


    Merina¡¯s laughter bubbled up. She smiled devilishly, clearly enjoying her sister¡¯s discomfort. "A tall girl like me needs a big man," she teased, leaning in slightly. "Though I¡¯ll admit... we can¡¯t do it every night like we used to."


    "Oh gods," Hypatia groaned again, burying her face deeper into her hands. "We¡¯re seriously discussing this?"


    Merina reached out and patted Hypatia¡¯s arm, her tone now more playful than teasing. "You should talk to men more, sister."


    Hypatia shot her a sidelong glance, still unimpressed. "Ugh... You and Mother Leto both. Does marriage automatically make women this perverse?"


    "Aren¡¯t you into girls?" Asteria chimed in, her voice light and curious. "Or are you just into your experiments now?"


    Hypatia sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of her own words burdened her. "To be honest..." She hesitated for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "I need a break. I¡¯m tired. My heart and soul are getting tired from the academy, from everything."


    The air between the three sisters shifted. The playful atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a subtle tension. Asteria and Merina exchanged a glance, their faces softening as they realized the depth of Hypatia¡¯s confession. Her voice had cracked slightly, the frustration and weariness seeping through her words.


    "Sisters..." Hypatia continued, her eyes downcast, "I think I¡¯m losing my passion."


    Silence settled around them, heavy and uncomfortable. Asteria¡¯s playful grin faded, and Merina¡¯s teasing demeanor vanished. They both understood¡ªHypatia¡¯s struggles went beyond academic fatigue. It was the slow erosion of the dreams she had once held dear, the weight of years spent pushing forward with little reward, little rest. Her exhaustion wasn¡¯t just physical, it was emotional, spiritual.


    They sat with her in that quiet moment, knowing words of comfort weren¡¯t enough, but their presence might be.


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    Merina glanced at Cassandra, noticing the spark of mischief still dancing in her daughter''s eyes. Her expression softened as she turned back to Hypatia, but the weight of the conversation remained. "Your master¡¯s slaves," Merina ventured cautiously, "what will happen to them?"


    Hypatia¡¯s eyes darkened with an overwhelming sadness. Her gaze seemed to focus on some distant point as if lost in her own thoughts. "Only the gods know at this point," she replied with a heaviness that settled in her voice. "It¡¯s maddening, really... I feel terrible for them, but also so... helpless. Knowing there¡¯s nothing I can do." She paused, her lips trembling slightly. "It doesn¡¯t help that the two girls... look like me."


    Asteria and Merina shared a glance, a chill creeping up their spines at Hypatia¡¯s words. The thought of the young girls, trapped in the same wretched existence as their sister, left a bitter taste in their mouths. Merina¡¯s hand instinctively tightened around the fabric she had been working on, her knuckles pale as she processed the implications.


    "H-how about the boy?" Merina asked cautiously, her voice barely above a whisper. "What does he look like?"


    Hypatia was silent for a moment, the words seeming to catch in her throat before she answered. "He¡¯s quite handsome, I guess," she said, her tone flat and emotionless, as though she were commenting on something trivial. "He looks like a sailor¡ªtanned skin, light frame. Maybe that old swine plans to take him for some stroll along the Great River or something." Her expression soured as she added, bitterly, "Gods, I hope that pig drowns."


    "Handsome?" Merina¡¯s brow furrowed slightly, her curiosity mingling with concern.


    "Yes," Hypatia responded with the same deadpan tone, her face as still as stone. "Though... I did feel sorry for them, especially the two girls. Who knows what that pig was thinking, keeping them so close."


    A heavy silence fell between the three women, the weight of Hypatia¡¯s words sinking deep. The image of those young slaves lingered in the air, haunting their thoughts like an unwelcome specter. Asteria, for once, had nothing witty to say. She shifted uncomfortably, her normally sharp and playful demeanor muted by the gravity of the situation.


    Merina¡¯s heart tightened, a mixture of sorrow and helplessness filling the space where words failed. She stared at her hands, the soft cloth between her fingers now forgotten. The faces of Hypatia¡¯s master''s slaves, especially the girls, floated in her mind¡ªinnocent, terrified, and trapped.


    Hypatia¡¯s voice, though emotionless, carried an unmistakable ache, an exhaustion that went beyond mere fatigue. It was the weariness of someone who had seen too much and could do too little.


    "By the way, Rina," Asteria said as she pointed toward the child in Pacificus''s arms, "is that your baby?"


    Merina smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Yes," she replied with pride. "That is Cassandra."


    "Oh," Asteria murmured as she and Hypatia approached Pacificus, their eyes drawn to the tiny bundle in his strong arms.


    Asteria leaned in close, studying the child¡¯s features with fascination. "She looks just like her father," she remarked, her voice tinged with amusement. "They even have the same hair and eyes."


    Hypatia, standing beside her sister, nodded absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on Cassandra¡¯s delicate face. "She has Rina¡¯s face, though," she added thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "How old is this ch¡ª"


    Suddenly, Hypatia felt an icy chill crawl up her spine. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked with Cassandra''s heterochromatic eyes¡ªone red and one violet. But it wasn¡¯t the colors that unnerved her. No, it was something deeper, something far more unsettling. There was a strange glint in those mismatched eyes, a sharpness far beyond the innocent curiosity of a baby. Hypatia stiffened, unable to tear her gaze away, as she realized those were not the eyes of an infant, but of someone much older, someone far too knowing.


    The amused, calculating look in Cassandra¡¯s eyes sent a shiver through Hypatia¡¯s very soul. Her heart thudded in her chest, and for the first time in years, she felt a raw, unexplainable fear.


    "M-mi-mischievous, isn¡¯t she?" Hypatia stammered, forcing a trembling smile, her voice faltering as she struggled to compose herself.


    Cassandra, still nestled in her father¡¯s arms, let out a soft, eerie giggle. "Eheheheheheh," the sound came, childlike yet unnervingly mature, as though the baby found some private joke endlessly entertaining.


    "How cute!" Asteria exclaimed, entirely unaware of the chill that had gripped Hypatia. She leaned in closer, her face lighting up with delight at the baby¡¯s laugh.


    Meanwhile, Hypatia¡¯s forced smile remained plastered to her face, though her legs shook uncontrollably beneath her dress. She couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was something deeply wrong, something off about this child. She listened to the baby¡¯s laugh¡ªa cackle, almost¡ªand her fingers trembled, her mind racing with questions she didn¡¯t dare voice.


    "M-me¡ªM-Merina," Hypatia stammered, her voice barely audible as her gaze darted back and forth between her sister and the grinning baby in Pacificus¡¯s arms.


    "Yes, Hypatia?" Merina asked, her voice calm and oblivious to her sister¡¯s distress.


    Hypatia swallowed hard, her eyes flicking once more to Cassandra, whose grin had now spread wide¡ªunnervingly wide. It was a smile far too big for a baby¡¯s face, as though the child were savoring some private amusement that no one else could understand. Hypatia¡¯s skin prickled with a crawling sensation.


    "Y-your b-b-baby..." Hypatia¡¯s voice quivered as she struggled to form the words.


    "Yes?" Merina responded with a soft smile, entirely unaware of the fear gripping her sister.


    Hypatia¡¯s gaze flickered between her sister and the baby, a look of sheer defeat and terror settling on her face. The way the baby¡¯s eyes followed her every move, with that unnerving grin, made her feel like prey being watched by a predator. "Sh-she l-l-l-looks cute... I guess."


    "Thank you," Merina replied, beaming.


    Hypatia swallowed again, her mouth dry, before turning sharply on her heel. "I-I-I-It was nice seeing you again, sisters. G-goodbye," she muttered, her voice shaky as she quickly walked away, trying her hardest not to break into a full run. She could still feel Cassandra¡¯s piercing gaze on her back, the child¡¯s eerie laughter echoing in her ears.


    Asteria, completely unfazed, chuckled and looked down at the child. "Aren¡¯t you a smart little thing," she cooed, reaching out to tickle Cassandra¡¯s belly.


    Cassandra let out a gurgling giggle, her baby voice breaking into an unintelligible babble. "Waahaaaaahagaaah," she squealed, her grin still wide and gleaming with delight.


    "Gods above! That is adorable!" Asteria declared, her eyes sparkling with joy.


    "Waahaaaaahagaaah," Cassandra repeated, her laughter bubbling over again, though her gaze flickered with a knowing amusement that sent another shiver down Hypatia¡¯s spine as she hurried away.


    <hr>


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    As night fell, the temple of Vesta came alive with the warm glow of lanterns, casting a soft light across the gathering. There was a somber yet joyful atmosphere as the men, weary from their time away at war, finally returned to the embrace of their families. The air was thick with the scent of food and burning incense, mixing with the sound of laughter and quiet tears. Brothers and fathers reunited with their loved ones, sharing in the joy of reunion and the quiet sorrow for those who had not made it home.


    In the midst of it all, Merina and Pacificus stood together, cradling little Cassandra. She wriggled in her father¡¯s arms, her curious eyes wide and bright as she gazed around at the unfamiliar faces. The men of the village gathered around, their voices low but filled with warmth as they greeted the new mother and admired the child she held.


    ¡°She looks just like her father,¡± one of the men remarked, a broad smile spreading across his weathered face as he leaned in to take a closer look at the baby.


    ¡°She¡¯s going to be tall, no doubt about it,¡± another said with a chuckle, nodding toward Pacificus. ¡°With parents like you two, she¡¯ll be towering over all of us in no time.¡±


    There were a few murmurs of agreement, but what surprised most of the men wasn¡¯t Merina becoming a mother¡ªafter all, she and Pacificus had been courting long before the war¡ªbut the sight of the newly built temple on Pacificus¡¯s land.


    ¡°I expected this to happen, honestly,¡± one man said, gesturing toward Merina and Cassandra. ¡°But why a temple here? Brother Pacificus, isn¡¯t this your land?¡±


    Pacificus, standing tall beside his wife, gave a small, reassuring smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said, his voice calm and warm. ¡°I don¡¯t mind. In fact, it¡¯s quite nice. I spent my childhood alone on this farm... now that I have company, I won¡¯t be so lonely anymore.¡±


    As Pacificus spoke, Cassandra suddenly reached her tiny hands out, her fingers curling toward a familiar face. ¡°Umauma!¡± she babbled, her voice full of excitement.


    From the crowd, an old woman stepped forward, her face creased with age but her eyes twinkling with affection. It was Leto, her smile broadening as she reached for Cassandra. ¡°Hello, Cassie,¡± Leto cooed, gently lifting the baby from Pacificus¡¯s arms. She cradled her with the ease of someone who had held many babies in her time. ¡°Cassie, meet your grandpa Lelantos.¡±


    At the sound of his name, an elderly man stepped forward from the shadows. Lelantos, though old, had a sharpness in his eyes that belied his years. His gaze fell upon Cassandra, studying her with a thoughtful expression. His twin sister, Leto, gave him a knowing look.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, sister,¡± Lelantos said, his voice deep and gruff but full of affection. ¡°This one is smart.¡±


    Cassandra giggled, her tiny hands reaching out to grab at Lelantos¡¯s beard, her laugh infectious and bright.


    Lelantos chuckled softly, his weathered hands patting her tiny back. ¡°I''ve only been gone for five years,¡± he said, a note of regret in his voice. ¡°And yet this family has already grown. An old man like me... I regret missing so much.¡± His eyes turned to Pacificus, filled with warmth and unspoken wisdom. ¡°Young man,¡± he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. ¡°This may be the last time you¡¯ll spend with your wife. Treat her well.¡±


    Pacificus¡¯s throat tightened, the weight of Lelantos¡¯s words pressing heavily on his heart. ¡°Thank you, Father,¡± he replied, his voice low and steady, though the emotion behind it was undeniable.


    Lelantos gave a firm nod, his gaze never wavering. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, young man,¡± he said, his voice softer now, filled with a quiet promise. ¡°We¡¯ll take care of them while you¡¯re gone. I¡¯ll stake my life on it.¡±


    ¡°Father Lelantos,¡± Pacificus began, his eyes shining with gratitude, ¡°you don¡¯t have to do this.¡±


    But the old man simply grinned, a playful glint in his eyes despite his age. ¡°Why not?¡± he chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m old, yes, but I still have enough life left in these bones to protect my family. It¡¯s the least I can do.¡±


    Pacificus hesitated, his brow furrowed with concern. ¡°But, Father¡ª¡±


    Lelantos waved a hand dismissively, his laughter warm and full of life. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, young man. I may be old, but I¡¯m not that old.¡± His smile softened as he glanced at Cassandra, now resting contentedly in Leto¡¯s arms. ¡°Besides, I¡¯d like to see this little one grow up a bit more before I leave this world.¡±


    The old man¡¯s words hung in the air, heavy yet filled with hope, as the night deepened around them, the flickering lanterns casting long, peaceful shadows across the temple grounds.


    <hr>


    Inside the warm, dimly lit hut, the sound of distant celebration echoed faintly from the temple grounds, where the temple continued to celebrate the men¡¯s return and the end of the civil war. The laughter and music felt distant, almost muted by the intimacy of the quiet space Merina and Pacificus now shared. The couple stood close, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of emotions too deep to fully express. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across their faces, adding a sense of serenity to the moment, though it was tinged with the bittersweet knowledge of the journey that lay ahead.


    ¡°Rina¡­ I¡ª¡± Pacificus began, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts.


    Merina, with her quiet grace, smiled softly, placing a gentle finger against his lips. ¡°Pacy, I know,¡± she whispered, her tone filled with certainty. ¡°I know¡­ I know you¡¯ll return.¡± Her words were firm, yet tender, filled with a love so strong it left no room for doubt. Leaning in, she gave him a slow, lingering kiss, her lips warm and reassuring against his. "I know you will."


    With a quiet sigh, she pulled back and reached for something nearby. She handed Pacificus a simple yet elegant bandolier, each stitch meticulously crafted.


    ¡°Rina?¡± Pacificus asked, his brow furrowing as he examined the item in his hands.


    ¡°I made it for you,¡± Merina said with a soft smile, her voice calm but purposeful. ¡°Hypatia gave me some magical threads¡­ Each pouch has the capacity to fit one of your farmhouses.¡±


    ¡°A spatial bag,¡± Pacificus breathed in awe, tracing his fingers over the smooth material. The craftsmanship was impressive, and the magic imbued in it was palpable. ¡°I¡¯ll need to thank her before I leave.¡±


    Merina chuckled softly, the sound light and sweet. ¡°The only problem with spatial bags is that they get heavier the more items you store inside.¡±


    ¡°Even so, it¡¯s incredibly useful,¡± Pacificus remarked, already marveling at the potential it held for his journey.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Merina nodded, her hands brushing his as she helped him fasten the bandolier across his chest. ¡°Let me help you pack, my love. Your journey will be long.¡±


    Pacificus reached out, placing his hands over hers. ¡°Rina¡­¡± he began, his voice low and tender, as if the words were too fragile to say aloud.


    She smiled up at him, her eyes filled with understanding and strength. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Pacy.¡± Her voice was gentle but steady, and as she spoke, she pulled a small glass bottle from the folds of her dress. Inside was a delicate blue flower, glowing faintly in the dim light, its ethereal beauty casting a soft blue hue over her fingers. ¡°I have you with me.¡±


    Pacificus¡¯s heart swelled as he recognized the flower. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a similar bottle, this one holding a vibrant red flower that shone just as brightly. ¡°Yes¡­ I too have you with me,¡± he said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked into her eyes, the connection between them unspoken but undeniable.


    With a quiet understanding, the couple began packing Pacificus¡¯s belongings, working in comfortable silence. They carefully folded the tent they had used on their journey to the Ever Resting Forest, their hands brushing together as they placed it into one of the bandolier¡¯s enchanted pouches. Foods like hardtacks and pemmican were neatly stored, along with spices and cooking utensils, each item a reminder of the life they had shared and the simple comforts they cherished.


    Pacificus placed his greatsword into one of the larger pouches, along with seeds and vegetables from their farm. The sight of so many items vanishing into the small pockets, swallowed by the magic of the spatial bag, left both of them in quiet awe.


    ¡°Can I fit a person inside?¡± Pacificus asked with a curious glint in his eye, the question half-joking but laced with genuine wonder.


    Merina chuckled, shaking her head gently. ¡°You can,¡± she replied with a playful smile, ¡°but I wouldn¡¯t recommend it. There¡¯s no air inside those pockets.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I guess I can¡¯t put plants inside either,¡± Pacificus mused, his brow furrowed as he considered the limitations of the magic.


    Merina¡¯s smile widened as she looked up at him. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of spatial bags that can store living beings,¡± she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. ¡°But they¡¯re more like enchanted paintings than actual bags.¡±


    Pacificus shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ¡°The understanding of magic continues to elude me, Rina.¡±


    Merina giggled, her laughter light and melodic. ¡°It eludes me too,¡± she admitted. ¡°But I suppose I¡¯m lucky to have two sisters who are obsessed with magic.¡±


    Their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, the weight of their impending separation lingering in the air like a shadow. Yet, as they stood together, packing for the journey ahead, there was a sense of quiet strength between them, a bond that transcended words and the looming uncertainties of the future. With every item they packed, with every shared glance, they were reminded that no matter the distance or the dangers that awaited Pacificus, they would always carry each other with them.


    The night outside remained vibrant with the sounds of celebration from the temple of Vesta, where men, women, and children reveled in the return of peace and the end of the civil war. Inside the quiet, candlelit hut, however, the atmosphere between Merina and Pacificus grew intimate, their world shrinking to the space they shared alone.


    ¡°Pacy,¡± Merina¡¯s voice was soft, almost playful, as she leaned into him. ¡°Do you remember the first time we met?¡±


    Pacificus smiled at the question, the memories of that day surfacing like a warm breeze. ¡°I was just a small child back then,¡± he replied, his voice low and thoughtful. ¡°Drawing the carriage and selling my harvests in the village.¡±


    ¡°Small?¡± Merina chuckled, her laughter light and melodic. ¡°You were almost as tall as the adults, even when you were just a child.¡±


    Pacificus blinked, his expression bemused. ¡°Was I? I remember looking up at the adults, feeling so small¡­ especially around the guards. I was terrified of them when I was selling my vegetables.¡±


    Merina¡¯s laughter grew softer, filled with affection. ¡°Yes, you were rather awkward back then,¡± she said, her eyes sparkling with the fond memory. ¡°That innocence was so endearing.¡±


    Pacificus¡¯s smile turned wistful as he looked at her, his gaze filled with warmth. ¡°Rina, my love¡­ I spent my childhood alone on this farm. I didn¡¯t know how to talk to others¡­ didn¡¯t know how to connect. That was¡­ until you came along.¡±


    Merina¡¯s heart swelled at his words, and without another word, she leaned in and kissed him. It was a slow, tender kiss, but the depth of their emotions quickly turned it into something more. Pacificus responded in kind, his hand gently cupping the back of her neck as their lips moved together with growing intensity. The outside world disappeared, leaving only the two of them, tangled in their shared longing.


    The kiss deepened, their breaths mingling as the heat between them grew. Merina¡¯s hands moved to undo the ties of her husband¡¯s shirt, her fingers trembling slightly, not from hesitation, but from the raw emotion coursing through her. Pacificus¡¯s hands mirrored hers, slowly removing the layers of her clothing as if savoring each moment, each touch. The air between them crackled with the energy of their unspoken desire.


    With a gentle but firm push, Merina guided Pacificus back onto the bed, her eyes never leaving his. The soft fabric of his tunic fell away under her hands, revealing the firm planes of his chest, the familiar warmth of his skin beneath her touch. She straddled him, her body pressing against his, their breaths coming in short, heated bursts as they undressed each other, piece by piece. The vulnerability of the moment was shared, not just physically but emotionally, as if this act was their way of holding on to each other before the inevitable separation.


    Their bodies met, skin against skin, the tension in the air heightening as they moved together. Merina tried to stifle a moan, biting her lip, but the intensity of their connection was overwhelming. Before she could contain it, Pacificus captured her mouth in another kiss, muffling her soft sounds of pleasure with his lips. Their movements were slow at first, deliberate, each thrust a reminder of their love, each touch a plea to forget, just for this moment, the looming distance that would soon come between them.


    The warmth of the room seemed to envelop them, their bodies pressed together in a rhythm that was both familiar and desperate. Pacificus¡¯s hands roamed Merina¡¯s back, pulling her closer as if he could somehow fuse their bodies, their souls, so they would never have to part. The sensation of their hips meeting, the shared warmth, the soft gasps and kisses¡ªall of it was a wordless conversation, an exchange of their deepest fears and hopes, their way of saying goodbye without saying it at all.


    Merina¡¯s head fell against his shoulder as the intensity grew, her breath hot against his neck as she whispered his name, over and over, like a prayer. Pacificus¡¯s grip tightened around her, his lips finding her skin, trailing kisses along her jawline, her collarbone, as if committing her to memory. Each movement became more frantic, more desperate, as if they were trying to fill the void that would soon separate them.


    For one last time, they poured everything they had into this moment, into each other. Their love, their fear, their longing¡ªit all came together in a passionate embrace, a physical expression of everything they felt but couldn¡¯t fully articulate. And as the night wore on, the sounds of celebration from the temple outside faded into the background, leaving only the quiet whispers of their shared intimacy, the sound of their bodies moving together, and the unspoken promise that, no matter the distance, they would always carry each other in their hearts.

 Chapter 34: The Journey Begins

    In the dimly lit chamber, Lelantos sat beside the small wooden crib where Cassandra, his grandchild, lay with her eyes wide and curious. The shadows danced across his weathered face as he leaned closer, peering at the child who seemed far too wise for her years. He was doing his best to suppress the disbelief that bubbled within him, but he couldn¡¯t help but be amazed by her calm declaration.


    ¡°So,¡± Lelantos began slowly, trying to grasp what he was hearing. ¡°You can see the past¡­ and the future?¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s innocent smile spread across her face, a mischievous glint in her heterochromatic eyes. ¡°Yes, Grandpa. I can,¡± she said with a tone so casual that it sent a shiver down Lelantos''s spine.


    ¡°I see,¡± Lelantos muttered, swallowing hard. His hand instinctively clenched the armrest of the chair, trying to steady himself. The air in the room felt thick with tension, as if her words carried the weight of unseen fates. Leto, his twin sister, who had been sitting nearby, now leaned in as well, her curiosity piqued.


    ¡°What does the future bring to this temple, young prophet?¡± Lelantos asked, forcing his voice to stay calm though his heart raced with an uncomfortable mixture of awe and apprehension.


    Cassandra''s playful smile dimmed into something more serious, her small lips pressing together for a moment before she spoke. ¡°Tell the girls to stay away from Zus.¡±


    ¡°Zus?¡± Lelantos repeated, frowning. ¡°The young boy? Why?¡± His mind raced, trying to connect the dots. Leto, too, furrowed her brow, her eyes now fixed on Cassandra, absorbing every word with intense focus.


    ¡°He will impregnate them all if they hang out with him.¡± Cassandra¡¯s voice was clear, her childlike tone contrasting with the gravity of her words. ¡°I have seen it, Grandpa. The flaw Gaia will give him is that he will be really lustful.¡±


    Both Lelantos and Leto sat in stunned silence for a moment, processing what the young child had just revealed. The crackling of the fireplace seemed louder, the distant hum of the temple¡¯s celebrations growing faint in the background.


    Lelantos¡¯s eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer, his voice now barely a whisper. ¡°How old is Zus?¡±


    ¡°He will turn eight next month,¡± Cassandra replied, her tone matter-of-fact, as if they were discussing the weather.


    Lelantos exchanged a glance with Leto, who was pursing her lips thoughtfully. ¡°So, we still have time,¡± Lelantos murmured. ¡°Time to train him¡­ to make sure he doesn¡¯t blindly follow his desires.¡±


    Both twins nodded in unison, the unspoken agreement passing between them as Cassandra watched, her small smile returning.


    ¡®Good parenting is the best,¡¯ she thought to herself, pleased with their reaction.


    ¡°What else, young one?¡± Leto asked, her voice gentle but laced with concern.


    Cassandra tilted her head slightly before responding. ¡°Auntie Hypatia.¡±


    Leto¡¯s eyes sharpened. ¡°What about her, dear?¡±


    Cassandra hesitated, her small fingers fiddling with the edge of her blanket. The room seemed to still as both elders awaited her response. ¡°We need to save her before her master assaults her,¡± she finally said, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.


    The weight of her words hung in the air like a storm cloud. Lelantos¡¯s face darkened, a deep sigh escaping his lips. ¡°I thought he would be a decent man,¡± he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. ¡°This is my fault.¡±


    ¡°People change, brother,¡± Leto said softly, her voice filled with understanding. She placed a comforting hand on Lelantos¡¯s arm. ¡°For better or for worse.¡± She then turned her gaze back to Cassandra, her expression gentle yet serious. ¡°How do we save her, little Cassie?¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s innocent face turned solemn as she looked up at her grandmother. ¡°You are not going to like it,¡± she whispered.


    Leto¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°What do you mean, dear?¡±


    ¡°Her master needs to die,¡± Cassandra said plainly, her heterochromatic eyes wide with certainty. ¡°The old Lord of the town will soon be assassinated by his brother. Hypatia¡¯s master will support the brother, and in turn, they will kill all the nobles who supported the old Lord. The nobles will then tax the commoners so heavily¡­ they will kill those who can¡¯t pay.¡±


    A chill crept through the room as Cassandra¡¯s voice, though soft, carried the weight of a tragic future. Lelantos leaned in closer, his expression stern but contemplative. ¡°How can I kill that man?¡± he asked, his voice a low growl.


    ¡°BROTHER!¡± Leto cried, her hand clutching his arm in shock. ¡°GRANDPA, NO!¡± Cassandra added, her small voice urgent.


    ¡°I¡¯m old,¡± Lelantos said, his gaze never leaving Cassandra¡¯s. ¡°I am willing to be the sacrifice.¡±


    Cassandra shook her head, her eyes wide. ¡°Grandpa, there is a way to kill him¡­ without you having to do it yourself.¡±


    Lelantos blinked. ¡°Oh? And how is that?¡±


    ¡°We drown him,¡± Cassandra said simply, as if the plan were already set in motion.


    Both twins stared at her, confusion and disbelief etched across their faces.


    ¡°I drown him?¡± Lelantos asked, his voice tinged with doubt.


    ¡°No, Grandpa,¡± Cassandra said patiently. ¡°You shoot his boat while he is collecting river plants for his potions. Make sure there¡¯s a big enough hole to sink the boat.¡±


    Lelantos¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that kill the sailor in charge of the boat as well?¡±


    Cassandra smiled reassuringly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Grandpa. The sailor can swim. Uncle Archimedes will save Auntie Hypatia from drowning, and they¡¯ll grow closer. Eventually, they¡¯ll have a baby named Alexandros.¡±


    The twins blinked in disbelief once again, struggling to keep up with the cascade of information.


    ¡°When is this boat ride, young Cassie?¡± Lelantos asked after a moment, trying to process it all.


    Leto interfered, her expression growing more serious. ¡°Young Cassie, you have a power many people¡ªevil people¡ªwould gladly kill for. It would be wiser to keep your abilities secret.¡±


    ¡°I know, Grandma,¡± Cassandra replied sweetly. ¡°But I think we can trust Apollo, Artemis, and Hyakinthos.¡±


    ¡°And your mother, dear?¡± Leto asked, her voice gentle.


    Cassandra¡¯s face scrunched up slightly. ¡°It¡¯s hard to see Mama¡¯s future¡­ because her fate is intertwined with Papa¡¯s thread. Looking at Papa¡¯s future is really confusing. I can¡¯t tell where his thread will go in the grand tapestry of existence.¡±


    Lelantos leaned back, his expression grave. ¡°I see,¡± he murmured.


    ¡°Papa¡¯s upcoming journey¡­¡± Cassandra continued softly. ¡°Whether it ends in tragedy or success, it will undoubtedly change the world.¡±


    The twins exchanged another glance, the weight of her words settling between them like an unspoken truth.


    ¡°And Hypatia¡¯s upcoming child?¡± Leto ventured, her voice a little lighter now, trying to break the tension.


    Cassandra grinned. ¡°I want him to be my boyfriend.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± both twins said immediately, their voices firm.


    ¡°You are too young for that, Cassie,¡± Leto added gently but firmly.


    ¡°My sister is right, young one,¡± Lelantos agreed. ¡°You are far too young to be thinking of such things.¡±


    Cassandra pouted, her lower lip sticking out adorably. ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°No buts, young lady,¡± Leto said, her tone final.


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Cassandra sighed, though she quickly perked up again. ¡°But we should prepare for my brother.¡±


    Both twins froze. ¡°Brother?¡± Leto asked, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°You have a brother?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Cassandra replied confidently. ¡°Or at least, I think I do. His future is really unclear, unlike most of my visions.¡±


    ¡°And what does he look like, young one?¡± Lelantos inquired, his curiosity piqued.


    ¡°He has elf ears,¡± Cassandra said, her voice soft with wonder. ¡°He¡¯s kind of small. He has black hair and black eyes like Mama.¡±


    The twins exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring each other¡¯s growing suspicion.


    ¡°Lelantos, brother,¡± Leto said slowly. ¡°Are you thinking what I¡¯m thinking?¡±


    Lelantos sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his weathered face. ¡°Well¡­ he is a young man, on a journey alone and lonely¡­ I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he¡­ does the deed with someone else.¡±


    Cassandra¡¯s face flushed red, and she pouted fiercely. ¡°NO! MY PAPA WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING!¡± she protested. ¡°THEY ARE MAKING MY BROTHER RIGHT NOW!¡±


    <hr>


    Morning arrived with the soft glow of dawn spilling through the windows, casting gentle golden light across the temple. Inside, the air was still and quiet, save for the soft sounds of Cassandra being fed by Leto. The baby nestled comfortably in her arms, eagerly eating the soft cereal, her tiny hands occasionally reaching out for more.


    ¡°They are late,¡± Lelantos grumbled, his voice low and thoughtful as he leaned against the doorframe, eyes scanning the horizon.


    ¡°Let them enjoy themselves a little longer, Brother,¡± Leto replied calmly, brushing a crumb from Cassandra¡¯s cheek. There was a tender understanding in her tone. ¡°They¡¯re likely doing their best to cope with the inevitable¡­ their separation.¡±


    Lelantos let out a slow, resigned sigh. ¡°Understandable.¡±


    Time passed, and with it, the gentle morning gave way to the brighter light of day. Finally, from the room where they had slept, Pacificus and Merina stirred, the weight of the world already beginning to settle on their shoulders. They woke in each other¡¯s arms, their embrace filled with unspoken sorrow, neither willing to let go, as if holding on would keep the looming separation at bay. Merina clung tightly to her husband, her face buried against his chest, and Pacificus responded by holding her just as close. They both knew what today meant. It was a day they couldn¡¯t escape, no matter how long they lingered in each other¡¯s warmth.


    Merina dressed first, slipping into a simple white tunic that flowed around her like soft linen waves. The garment was modest, practical, but still elegant in its simplicity, fitting her with a quiet grace. She moved to help Pacificus dress, her hands steady as she guided him through the process, though her fingers trembled slightly, betraying the emotional storm she fought to contain. She helped him with his scapular, ensuring the engraved tree of Gaia and Thanatos was aligned perfectly on his chest, a symbol of the gods who had marked their lives so profoundly.


    But Merina had more planned for her husband. Pacificus, surprised, watched as she prepared a small shrine before the sacred flame of Vesta, lighting incense and bowing her head in prayer. Though Pacificus did not follow the faith of Vesta, he remained silent, respectful, and reverent. He knew how much this meant to his beloved, and so he kneeled quietly, listening as her whispered prayers floated like soft smoke around them. This moment was hers, a final blessing, a quiet plea to the goddess for his safe return, though both knew there were no guarantees.


    When the prayer was complete, Merina rose and returned to him. The quiet resolve in her eyes was unmistakable as she began to dress him for the journey ahead, each piece of his gear carefully fitted to him. His boots and pants, made of thick, durable leather, were snug against his legs, protecting him from the rugged terrain. His cloak, also leather, would shield him from the elements, its dark folds heavy and strong, practical in its design. The layers of leather armor that Merina secured to his body were thick, built up piece by piece to ensure his safety, even if it meant sacrificing some mobility for protection.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The ritual was intimate and familiar to him, though this was his first time experiencing it firsthand. This was a tradition among warriors and their spouses¡ªa solemn, quiet moment where they dressed their beloved for battle, a way of offering both their love and their acceptance of the uncertainty that followed. The final piece of his attire was his wide-brimmed hat, reinforced with leather and wood to protect him from both the sun and potential blows. As Merina fastened it, her fingers brushing his brow one last time, she leaned in to give him a final embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. This was their last shared touch, their final kiss, a moment suspended in time where all their love and sorrow seemed to blend into one.


    In her hands, Merina held a single blue flower, while Pacificus carried a red one. The flowers, simple yet vibrant, symbolized their love, fragile yet enduring. With one last breath, Merina opened the door for her husband, her heart heavy but her resolve unshaken.


    But as the door swung open, they were not alone.


    Standing before them were six figures. Lelantos and Leto, their faces marked with quiet understanding, stood at the forefront, ready to offer their wishes for the journey ahead. Leto held Cassandra gently in her arms, and the baby¡¯s wide eyes shone with innocence as she was returned to her mother. But it wasn¡¯t the twins who surprised the couple¡ªit was the three figures beside them.


    Barely teenagers, Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos stood with solemn expressions, their youthful faces still soft with the blush of childhood. Artemis, her dark hair cascading down her back, stood tall and poised, her sharp eyes filled with determination. Apollo, golden-haired and bright-eyed, had a calmness about him that belied his youth, his hands resting at his sides, ready to support them in any way they could. And Hyakinthos, beautiful and feminine, stood quietly beside them, his presence like a gentle breeze¡ªsoft but unwavering.


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    "We will take care of Mother Merina, Big Brother," Artemis said softly, her young voice carrying the strength of her resolve. The young girl stood tall, her eyes fierce with determination, offering Pacificus the reassurance he needed in this moment of heartache. Behind her, Apollo and Hyakinthos both nodded firmly, their expressions mirroring her commitment.


    Pacificus felt a surge of warmth swell in his chest. These children, not yet fully grown, had already shouldered responsibilities far beyond their years. He looked at each of them in turn, his heart heavy with gratitude. ¡°Thank you,¡± he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper, though the sincerity behind his words was unmistakable.


    Then a soft voice broke through the moment. "Papa," called Cassandra, her small arms reaching toward him.


    Pacificus''s heart tightened as he lifted his daughter, cradling her with a tenderness that spoke of how much he cherished these fleeting moments. He kissed her forehead, breathing in her scent, as if trying to memorize every detail of her tiny face, her gentle smile. Finally, he handed her back to Merina, his fingers lingering as he did so, reluctant to let go.


    "I will return," Pacificus vowed, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze locked with Merina''s, and in that shared moment, the weight of his promise hung heavily between them. "I promise I will return."


    Leto, standing nearby, stepped forward and patted Pacificus''s shoulder, her eyes filled with maternal warmth. "Stay safe, young man," she said softly, her voice full of encouragement and affection.


    Pacificus smiled at her, grateful for her support. ¡°Thank you, Mother,¡± he replied, the word feeling right on his tongue, as though she had always held that place in his heart.


    Then Lelantos stepped forward, his hand outstretched, offering Pacificus a bottle. The flask shimmered in the sunlight, its intricate glasswork catching the light. It was a beautiful creation, clearly made by the hands of a master craftsman, its shape elegant, and the glass delicately engraved with swirls and symbols that spoke of magic.


    "Take this, young man," Lelantos said, his voice gentle but firm. "It¡¯s an enchanted bottle, given to me by a noble I befriended during the war. It never runs out of water. You¡¯ll need it, especially when you reach the great desert of the south."


    Pacificus''s eyes widened with gratitude and surprise. "Father, I can¡¯t¡ª"


    But Lelantos cut him off with a gentle chuckle. "Oh, don¡¯t refuse, young man. Trust me, you¡¯ll need it more than I ever will now." His smile softened as he pressed the bottle into Pacificus¡¯s hands. ¡°Stay safe, young man.¡±


    Pacificus nodded, humbled by the gesture. ¡°Father Lelantos¡­ thank you. I will.¡±


    With that, Pacificus took a deep breath and began his journey. His feet moved hesitantly at first, as if his heart and body were fighting every step. His eyes darted back toward his family¡ªtoward Merina holding Cassandra close, toward Leto and Lelantos, toward Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos, all standing together, watching him leave. Each step felt like a weight, heavier than the last, as though he was walking away from everything that mattered.


    He stopped by the sacred tree¡ªa tree that had grown remarkably in such a short time, its trunk thick and sturdy, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. He had planted its seed only months ago, a gift from the gods, and now it towered over him, offering its bounty of fruits that looked like pinecones. Without thinking, Pacificus began to collect them, his farmer¡¯s instincts guiding his hands. These fruits, sacred as they were, held a significance beyond nourishment.


    Standing beneath its towering branches, Pacificus glanced one last time at the farm. His farm. But it was no longer just his¡ªit had become a sanctuary, a home for so many. The walls that now surrounded the land were not just barriers; they symbolized protection, security for the families who had found solace within them. Orphans, men, women, children¡ªpeople who had once been lost and alone, much like he had been¡ªnow called this place their home. And it had all begun with Merina, with her love, her care. The thought filled him with pride, but also a deep ache.


    A smile tugged at his lips as he took it all in¡ªhis family, his friends, the growing community. He had been so alone once, but now¡­ now he had an entire world waiting for him to return. It was more than he had ever dared to dream.


    Turning back to the sacred tree, Pacificus closed his eyes and pressed his hand against the rough bark. "Divines," he whispered, his voice barely audible as the breeze stirred around him. "Please¡­ watch over them while I¡¯m gone."


    As if in answer to his prayer, a gentle gust of wind swept through the branches, rustling the leaves, and Pacificus felt it brush against his face, cool and soothing. It felt like a blessing, a quiet affirmation that the gods had heard him. He smiled, his heart a little lighter.


    With one final breath, Pacificus took another step forward. And another. His journey had only just begun, and already, his heart ached with the longing for his family. But he pressed on, knowing that every step brought him closer to keeping the promise he had made¡ªto return, no matter what it took.


    <hr>


    His journey took him south, a path winding through endless stretches of dirt road and scattered wilderness. The landscape around him gradually shifted¡ªthe familiar fields of his homeland fading into dry, sparse terrain as the distant mountains began to loom ahead, promising the trials he would have to face. He knew this would be a long and grueling journey, and though his resolve remained firm, a creeping uncertainty had begun to settle over him.


    There was one problem. A simple but enormous one.


    He didn¡¯t know where he was going.


    Pacificus clutched the map in his hand¡ªa worn and tattered piece of parchment that Merina had prepared for him before his departure. The edges were frayed from use, and the ink had smudged in a few places, but the general layout of the world was there, roads twisting like veins through towns and cities he had never visited. But even with the map, he could not make sense of it. The roads on paper seemed to twist and turn in ways that didn¡¯t match the real-world paths he walked upon. And worse, he had no skill in navigation.


    He sighed in frustration, glancing up from the map to the road ahead, which stretched endlessly toward the horizon. He had been following this road for hours¡ªdays, even¡ªhoping that it would somehow lead him where he needed to go. But doubt gnawed at him constantly. What if he had already taken a wrong turn? What if he was heading deeper into unknown lands, away from his goal?


    To make matters worse, several merchant caravans had passed him on their way north¡ªlong lines of wagons pulled by horses or oxen, guarded by burly mercenaries, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight. Some merchants waved to him in passing, offering friendly nods or curious glances, while others barely acknowledged him, too preoccupied with their own journeys. Each time, Pacificus felt a twinge of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could ask them for directions, even help.


    But when the moment came, when the opportunity was right there in front of him, his courage failed him.


    He approached the first caravan slowly, his steps hesitant, trying to catch the eye of one of the guards or drivers. His heart raced, and his palms began to sweat as he neared. The words were on the tip of his tongue¡ªa simple question for directions, perhaps even a humble request for a ride. But as he opened his mouth to speak, something in him froze. His throat tightened, and no sound came out.


    He passed by in silence, lowering his gaze to the ground, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising in his chest. He told himself it wasn¡¯t the right moment. That he could ask the next group. But then the next one came, and the same thing happened. And then again.


    His lips remained sealed, the words trapped inside him. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to ask for help. It was as though an invisible barrier held him back¡ªa mixture of pride, fear, and the deep-seated belief that he would be an inconvenience to others. What if I bother them? he thought. What if they think I¡¯m a fool for not knowing the way? His thoughts spiraled into self-doubt. He began to imagine the sneers or dismissive glances he might receive for asking something so simple. And worst of all, the weight of feeling like a burden gnawed at him.


    Pacificus had believed, after all these years with Merina, that he had finally learned how to speak with people. Her kindness had opened him up to the world, had made him feel more comfortable in his own skin. But now, alone on the road, he realized just how deeply ingrained his shyness was. Without Merina by his side, the familiar anxiety returned. He felt lost¡ªboth in direction and within himself.


    His hand clenched the map tightly, crumpling the edges as frustration welled up. He stared down at it again, hoping some clarity might emerge from the mess of roads and symbols. But none came. He sighed deeply, folding the map and slipping it into his pouch, deciding to continue walking along the road, wherever it might lead. If I just follow this path long enough, I¡¯ll find something. Or so he told himself.


    As he walked, the sun beat down relentlessly, its rays hot against his back. The road stretched on, with only the occasional rustle of wind in the trees and the distant clatter of hooves to break the silence. Each step felt heavier, not just from the weight of his gear, but from the growing sense of isolation.


    In his heart, Pacificus knew he would eventually have to face this inner battle. If he couldn¡¯t muster the courage to ask for help, then the journey ahead would only become more difficult. But for now, he pushed the thought aside, focusing on the road before him, and the hope that, eventually, the way forward would reveal itself.


    As night descended, the cool air replaced the heat of the day, and Pacificus¡¯s tired feet carried him to a sight he had hoped to see¡ªa caravan resting for the night. The wagons were circled like a protective ring, with their beasts of burden tied safely within, a common formation for merchants traveling through potentially dangerous lands. Flames from the campfires flickered in the distance, casting warm, dancing shadows over the tents that had been erected. The merchants and guards sat around, sharing stories and cooking their evening meal, the scent of roasting meat drifting toward Pacificus, making his stomach churn with hunger he hadn¡¯t realized he had.


    But as he approached, hopeful that he might find some direction or perhaps even a moment of companionship, his path was abruptly blocked by the sharp shaft of a spear. The tip glinted in the firelight, the steel head unwavering as it barred his way.


    ¡°State your business,¡± came the voice of the man holding the weapon. He wore chainmail that clinked slightly as he shifted his stance. The man was smaller than Pacificus, but covered in metal from head to toe, a seasoned guard who likely had seen many encounters on the road.


    Pacificus opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. His heart raced, and his mind went blank. ¡°I... ahh... uhmm,¡± he stammered, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire and distant murmurs of the camp.


    The guard¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°If you don¡¯t have any business, then leave,¡± he said, his tone more threatening now, the spear remaining firmly in place.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry... I... ahh... umm... I...¡± Pacificus fumbled for words, his shyness overwhelming him once again. His mind was a storm of thoughts, each one collapsing before it could form into coherent speech. He cursed himself silently for not being able to manage such a simple task.


    The guard gave a skeptical glance to his companion, another armored man standing nearby, watching the interaction with mild curiosity. The second guard stepped forward, lowering his spear slightly, as though assessing Pacificus more closely.


    ¡°Are you a warrior, perhaps?¡± the second guard asked, his voice more neutral but still wary. He took in Pacificus¡¯s size and the way his leather gear clung to his broad frame. Pacificus was easily taller and larger than either of them, and it showed.


    ¡°N-no... I¡¯m actually a farmer,¡± Pacificus answered, his voice still shaking. He wasn¡¯t lying, but even he knew how ridiculous it must have sounded. Someone of his stature didn¡¯t exactly fit the image of a humble farmer.


    The first guard raised an eyebrow, incredulous. ¡°Someone as huge as you... is a farmer?¡±


    Pacificus nodded quickly, feeling a blush creep up his neck. ¡°W-well, yes. I am a farmer,¡± he repeated, unsure how else to explain it.


    The second guard crossed his arms, clearly still skeptical but somewhat amused now. ¡°Then what is a farmer doing out here, wandering at night?¡± There was a hint of curiosity in his tone, but also a lingering caution.


    ¡°I... uh... I just...¡± Pacificus¡¯s hands fidgeted with the strap of his cloak, his nerves nearly getting the better of him. ¡°I just want to ask for directions,¡± he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.


    The two guards exchanged a glance, the tension in the air easing slightly. The first guard lowered his spear, though he still kept it close, just in case.


    ¡°Directions?¡± The second guard¡¯s tone shifted, becoming more casual. ¡°Oh, why didn¡¯t you say so, big guy? Where are you trying to go?¡±


    ¡°S-south,¡± Pacificus stammered. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a place in the south.¡±


    The guards exchanged another look, their expressions growing more serious. The first guard leaned on his spear, his face thoughtful. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea, big guy,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°The south is called the Sand Ocean for a reason. It¡¯s nothing but dunes and wind out there. Nothing lives in that desert. Not for long, anyway.¡±


    Pacificus hesitated, but his resolve remained firm. ¡°I... I need to go there,¡± he replied softly, knowing that his words likely sounded foolish to them. But it was the truth¡ªhe had no choice.


    The second guard scratched his chin, considering him for a moment. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re dead set on it, just follow this road. You¡¯ll come to a town eventually. Head to the tavern with a sign that says ¡®Mercenary Guild¡¯ on it. You can probably buy yourself a better map there, or even hire a guide to take you through the desert. Trust me, you won¡¯t want to go into that place alone.¡±


    ¡°Th-thank you,¡± Pacificus said, relief washing over him. ¡°I... I must take my leave now.¡±


    ¡°Good luck, big guy,¡± the first guard said, giving a nod. ¡°Stay safe out there.¡±


    Pacificus offered a quiet nod in return, grateful but still flustered, before turning to walk away. The darkness swallowed him as he left the campfire¡¯s glow behind, his footsteps growing fainter.


    As soon as he was out of earshot, the guards resumed their conversation. ¡°Do you believe that?¡± the first guard muttered under his breath. ¡°A guy that size, claiming to be a farmer? He¡¯s huge! My instincts were screaming at me to run when I saw him.¡±


    The second guard chuckled, still watching the road where Pacificus had disappeared. ¡°He¡¯s definitely not a farmer. Maybe a crestfallen knight or some kind of ex-soldier. Who knows? I¡¯m just glad he left us alone. Only a madman would travel alone at night like this... unless he¡¯s looking for trouble.¡±


    ¡°Or trouble¡¯s looking for him,¡± the first guard added, shaking his head. ¡°With the wildlife out here, not to mention goblins, trolls, or even the ents... he won¡¯t last long alone.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the second guard agreed, a frown forming on his face. ¡°Those things are everywhere these days.¡±

 Chapter 35: The Longing Farmer

    Pacificus resumed his journey, his long strides carrying him steadily through the night. The air was cool, the stars above casting a faint glow on the winding road ahead. He walked without rest, his thoughts consumed by the mission before him and the family he had left behind. But the night held more than just silence¡ªthere were dangers lurking in the shadows.


    As he ventured deeper into the wilderness, the first sign of trouble came¡ªa low growling sound, followed by the distinct rustling of something moving swiftly through the underbrush. Pacificus slowed his pace, his senses sharpening as he listens to the soft noises made by fast footsteps. From the darkness, small figures began to emerge¡ªgoblins. Their hunched forms moved with an unsettling speed, eyes gleaming with malevolent intent as they encircled him.


    The creatures were ugly, with wiry limbs and mottled green skin that glistened in the moonlight. They clutched crude weapons¡ªsharp sticks and jagged stones¡ªraising them high as they prepared to strike. Pacificus eyed them warily, counting at least a dozen of the creatures as they closed in on him.


    A tribe of goblins, he thought grimly. Trouble.


    With a sudden screech, the goblins launched their attack. They moved quickly, darting forward with surprising coordination for creatures so small. But Pacificus was faster. He moved like water, his body flowing with grace as he sidestepped their crude spears and deflected the jagged stones they hurled. His skill at parrying was unmatched, a gift honed through years of practice and necessity. Every strike they attempted was met with a swift deflection, their force turned back upon them.


    One goblin, more daring than the others, lunged forward with a snarl, its sharp stick aimed for Pacificus¡¯s chest. Without breaking a sweat, Pacificus shifted his weight, catching the blow with the palm of his hand and redirecting it. The goblin¡¯s own momentum sent it tumbling through the air, its screech of surprise cut short as it landed headfirst into the earth with a sickening thud. It lay still, planted into the ground like a rootless weed.


    More goblins charged, but Pacificus¡¯s movements remained fluid. He deflected their blows with ease, sending them flying in all directions. Each time one of the creatures landed awkwardly, its head would crack against the earth, and Pacificus would watch with grim fascination as the goblin''s lifeless body released a fine cloud of spores into the night air.


    Goblins, after all, were not so different from mushrooms. Their bodies, though flesh, held within them the capacity to reproduce through these spores¡ªtiny, invisible seeds of life that drifted on the wind. When a goblin died, the spores would begin to form a circle of brown mushrooms wherever their corpse lay, a grotesque nursery for the next generation. These mushrooms, though seemingly harmless, would slowly feed on whatever organic matter they found¡ªsoil, decayed leaves, or even the bodies of fallen animals. With enough sustenance, they would eventually grow into small, grotesque goblins of their own, continuing the cycle of life and death.


    But Pacificus knew more than most about these creatures. He had learned during his time as a farmer that these mushroom circles¡ªthe spores of dead goblins¡ªwere actually edible. They could be harvested and cooked, though few would dare to do so. The irony that something so deadly could also sustain life wasn¡¯t lost on him.


    The goblins, for all their savagery, weren¡¯t without intelligence. They hunted by night because their skin and eyes were sensitive to light, making them vulnerable during the day. They lived in dark places¡ªcaves, tunnels, and shadowy forests¡ªwhere the sun couldn¡¯t reach. And their survival instinct was fierce, driven by the need to protect and feed their young. If a goblin came across a mushroom circle, it would gather meat to nourish the spores, ensuring the growth of the next generation. Once these tiny mushrooms consumed enough flesh, they would grow, transforming into goblins ready to continue the cycle.


    Now, as Pacificus battled the goblins, he saw that same instinct in the wild, desperate eyes. They fought not just to kill, but to survive¡ªto gather flesh for their young. But he had no intention of letting them succeed.


    As another goblin lunged at him, Pacificus deftly parried its spear, using the creature¡¯s own force to send it careening backward. It crashed into the ground, its skull cracking against the hard earth, and more spores puffed into the air. One by one, the goblins fell, their crude weapons no match for Pacificus¡¯s skill and strength. With every parry, he sent them tumbling through the air, their bodies landing in unnatural poses, heads planted into the dirt like grotesque seedlings.


    The fight was over almost as quickly as it began. The goblins lay scattered around him, some dead, others dazed and wounded. The air was thick with the scent of their sweat and the faint musk of spores drifting on the night breeze. Pacificus stood among them, calm and unshaken, his breathing steady.


    He glanced at the bodies, noting the faint circle of mushrooms already beginning to form around one of the fallen goblins. It would be easy to harvest them¡ªgoblin mushrooms were known to be hearty, even in the most barren of soils. But Pacificus had no time for such things now.


    The night deepened, its quiet hum broken by the rustling of leaves and the distant cries of creatures hidden in the shadows. Pacificus moved cautiously, each footstep echoing in the stillness. After his encounter with the goblins, his instincts sharpened, warning him of more dangers that lurked nearby. His eyes scanned the path ahead, sensing something larger, more ominous.


    And then he saw it.


    A hulking figure loomed just ahead, partially concealed by the dense foliage. The creature''s silhouette was massive, easily dwarfing Pacificus, its heavy frame outlined against the moonlight. It was unmistakably a troll¡ªbut unlike any he had encountered before. This troll moved with an unsettling grace, its broad shoulders hunched forward as it lumbered on four legs like some grotesque fusion of man and beast. Vines and leaves grew in tangled knots around its neck, cascading down its chest like a beard of living plants. Moss covered its back, blending its hulking form into the forest, while large, gnarled antlers, twisted and ancient, jutted downward from its head like branches from a dying tree.


    The creature''s enormous wooden club dragged lazily behind it, its thick, calloused fingers gripping the handle with an unnatural calm. Despite its menacing appearance, the troll did not charge or snarl. Instead, its eyes, eerily human-like, settled on Pacificus, observing him with what could only be described as curiosity. They stood there, neither making a move. The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the soft rustle of the wind through the troll''s vine-covered beard.


    The troll showed no aggression. It simply watched him, its massive head cocking slightly as if assessing him, deciding whether he was worth its time. A strange mutual understanding seemed to pass between them in that stillness¡ªneither creature wishing to disturb the other.


    The troll''s attention shifted from Pacificus to the remains of the goblins scattered nearby. Without a second glance at the man before it, the troll lowered itself on all fours, moving with an almost animalistic grace. Its long arms reached out, its disturbingly human-like hands¡ªcovered in rough, bark-like skin¡ªgrasping the nearest goblin. The goblin, still twitching from its earlier encounter with Pacificus, was plucked from the ground like a weed. The troll lifted it to its mouth, opening its jaws wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth. Its head was grotesquely large, almost disproportionate to its body, and as it bit down, there was a sickening crunch. The goblin disappeared into its maw with alarming ease, consumed whole in one swift bite.


    Pacificus watched, equal parts fascinated and equally hungry. The troll devoured its prey without hesitation, its focus entirely on the goblin horde. And Pacificus was forgotten.


    The troll''s interest lay in the goblins, their fleshy forms providing an abundant feast for the creature. Pacificus had never seen a troll quite like this one. Most trolls were brute-like, with thick, ape-like bodies and savage tendencies. They roamed the forests and caves, terrifying travelers and villagers. But this troll¡ªthough monstrous in size and appearance¡ªwas almost peaceful in its consumption of the goblins. Its movements were slow, deliberate, its diet focused on the fungi that grew on the bodies of the fallen creatures. It was strange, eerily calm for something that was supposed to be terrifying.


    As the troll continued its feast, Pacificus couldn¡¯t help but compare it to the creatures of the Ever Resting Forest, the home of Gaia and Thanatos. Everything in that forest was larger than life, imbued with the essence of the gods themselves. The creatures that roamed there¡ªwhether goblins or trolls¡ªwere monstrous in size and strength, as if the very land itself willed them to be greater than the world outside. Compared to them, this troll¡ªlarge as it was¡ªseemed almost¡­ small.


    Pacificus felt a strange sense of displacement. The world outside the Ever Resting Forest seemed foreign to him now. The creatures, the land, the plants¡ªeverything felt smaller, less powerful, as though he had returned to a realm of shadows after living in the presence of giants. The goblins here were nothing like the ones he had fought within the Ever Resting Forest. There, the goblins were as tall and fierce as the troll now feasting before him. Here, they were little more than pests, barely a threat even in numbers.


    As the troll tore into another goblin, Pacificus decided it was time to move on. He turned his back on the creature, its heavy grunts fading into the distance as he walked further into the night. He could still hear the wet crunch of bones and the squelching sound of goblin flesh being torn apart, making him hungry.


    The Ever Resting Forest was his home. He is not just a farmer; he was a man marked by the divine. The creatures he now encountered, which would have filled the common folk with fear, seemed almost insignificant in comparison to what he had faced in his home. Yet, despite this strength, a deep, nagging sense of alienation followed him.


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    And as Pacificus continued his journey southward, the weight of that realization settled heavily on his shoulders. He had left one world behind¡ªnow, he had to face another.


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    The night stretched on, its inky darkness punctuated by the faint glow of stars overhead. The distant sounds of nocturnal creatures stirred in the underbrush as Pacificus finished setting up his small tent. The fabric flapped softly in the evening breeze as he knelt by the fire, carefully arranging the mushrooms and vegetables he had foraged during the day''s journey. The crackling flames danced, casting flickering shadows around his campsite, but the warmth did little to chase away the coldness creeping into his chest.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    As he stirred the pot, the rich, earthy scent of the mushrooms mingled with the fresh, green aroma of the vegetables, rising into the night air. Normally, this would be a comforting, familiar smell¡ªa reminder of his days on the farm, of cooking meals for his family with love and care. But tonight, the smell felt hollow. The bubbling of the stew felt too loud, the fire too quiet, and the absence of the voice he longed to hear only deepened his solitude.


    Merina.


    He could picture her so vividly, as if she were just inside the tent behind him. In his mind, she would stir soon, rising from sleep, her soft eyes searching for him. He could almost hear her gentle voice, asking him how far they¡¯d traveled, what they would eat, or simply commenting on the softness of the night air. But when he turned, the tent was empty. There was no familiar rustle of her movements, no sound of her light breathing.


    His heart ached with the weight of that absence.


    Pacificus sighed heavily, a sound filled with weariness and longing. His shoulders slumped as he ladled the stew into a small bowl, his hands moving with practiced ease despite the heaviness in his chest. He was a good cook¡ªMerina had always told him so. She would laugh, her eyes bright with affection, as she praised his meals, while sharing stories. But tonight, as he took the first bite, the stew tasted bland. No amount of skill could change the emptiness that accompanied each spoonful.


    He chewed slowly, feeling the warm, tender mushrooms dissolve in his mouth, their flavor rich but muted. The stew lacked the joy it once carried, the connection that made each meal special. Without her by his side, without Merina¡¯s smile lighting up their small camp, the food felt like an empty ritual.


    His mind drifted back to their shared moments¡ªnights by the fire where Merina would tease him as she ate, telling him how he always added just the right amount of seasoning. She¡¯d laugh and smile as she describes the designs that she plans for her next project. They would sit close, the warmth of their bodies mingling with the heat of the fire, sharing not just food but companionship, love, and comfort.


    Now, all of that felt like a distant memory. The stew warmed his body, but it couldn¡¯t touch the cold in his heart. He swallowed another spoonful, his gaze distant, lost in thought. The fire crackled softly, the only other sound in the otherwise still night. It was too quiet, too lonely. He wasn¡¯t used to eating alone like this. Every bite seemed to remind him of what he was missing¡ªthe absence of her laughter, the soft hum of her voice as she spoke to him.


    The stew might have been perfectly cooked, the ingredients gathered with care, but it lacked the one thing he couldn¡¯t replace: her presence. Without Merina, the meal felt tasteless, no matter how much skill he put into it. He felt the weight of that loneliness pressing down on him as he ate in silence, each bite reminding him of what he had left behind.


    He finished the bowl mechanically out of necessity. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Pacificus set the empty bowl aside and looked into the fire. The flames danced, casting their golden light on his face, but the warmth did little to fill the void inside him. He leaned back slightly, staring into the flickering embers, wishing¡ªjust for a moment¡ªthat when he looked up, she would be there.


    But the tent remained empty. And he remained alone.


    He sighed again, quieter this time, the sound almost lost to the night. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, trying to shield himself from the cold that wasn¡¯t just from the air. The stars glittered overhead, silent witnesses to his solitude. And as Pacificus sat there, the fire slowly dying down, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder how long it would be before he felt whole again.


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    After a few hours of restless sleep, Pacificus rose, shook off the grogginess, and resumed his journey. The sky was still heavy with the soft hues of dawn, the early light casting long shadows across the landscape as he trudged onward. The cool air of morning clung to his skin, a slight relief from the journey ahead, but something felt off. His eyes scanned the road ahead, alert yet weary, and his mind wandered to the trail of chaos behind him.


    "Why are there so many goblins?" he muttered, his voice low, almost as if speaking to the air.


    Behind him, the road was littered with the small, twisted bodies of goblins, their blue blood staining the dirt in an eerie, unnatural pattern. It was as though someone had splattered paint across the earth, the cobalt blue pooling in grotesque contrast to the greens and browns of the natural world. The sight was almost absurd¡ªhundreds of dead goblins stretched out behind him like a grim tapestry of violence.


    Pacificus had no qualms about dispatching goblins. They were more fungus than flesh, their bodies teeming with spores that spread like wildfire whenever one of them died. Their rapid reproduction made it almost impossible to truly cull their numbers, which is why he felt no guilt in cutting them down. In fact, their mushroom-like nature fascinated him in an odd way; they sprouted from the earth and returned to it just as quickly. They weren''t like other creatures¡ªcreatures that lived and breathed and were part of the delicate balance of nature.


    Wolves, for instance. Pacificus always spared the wolves. Their sleek forms and sharp eyes marked them as hunters, guardians of the wild. They played a crucial role in maintaining the balance of the ecosystem, keeping other species in check. He admired them for that. But lately, he¡¯d noticed that even the wolves had become part of the goblins¡¯ twisted machinations. Goblins, in their cunning, had taken to riding the wolves like beasts of burden. He¡¯d seen packs of them¡ªgoblins perched atop snarling wolves, their crude weapons glinting in the morning light.


    It was strange, almost grotesque, seeing such noble creatures being used in this way. But Pacificus was careful. Whenever he encountered a goblin-mounted wolf, he would do everything in his power to dispatch the goblin without harming the wolf beneath it. He was quick, precise¡ªusing his parry skills to redirect the goblins¡¯ strikes and send them crashing into the earth. The wolves, once freed from their fungal riders, would often flee into the woods, wild and untamed once more.


    But today was different.


    These goblins weren¡¯t just nocturnal hunters, creeping out under the cover of darkness as they usually did. No, these goblins were attacking him in broad daylight. The morning sun cast long shadows on their grotesque, hunched forms as they charged toward him with their usual ferocity. Their sharp stones and sticks were no match for Pacificus¡¯s honed reflexes, but their persistence unsettled him.


    Why were they so active during the day? It was against their nature. Goblins typically shied away from sunlight, preferring the cover of night to carry out their raids. But here they were, swarming the road in waves, their sharp-toothed grins bared as they hurled themselves at him. And there were so many of them¡ªfar more than he had ever encountered before.


    Something wasn¡¯t right.


    As he walked, Pacificus glanced down at the trail of goblin corpses. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was something unnatural about this sudden surge of activity. These creatures were driven, almost desperate. Their numbers seemed endless, and their willingness to attack in broad daylight was unnerving. His instincts, honed from years of living near the Ever Resting Forest, told him that something was deeply amiss.


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    A caravan rumbled slowly along the road, the merchants and their guards wrapped in the steady rhythm of travel, the sounds of creaking wheels and hooves dull against the morning air. The sun was still low, casting a golden hue over the trees, but as they rounded a bend, they were greeted by a scene that stole the breath from their lungs.


    The road ahead was drenched in blue.


    Hundreds¡ªno, thousands¡ªof goblin bodies lay strewn across the path, their small, twisted forms broken and still, a gruesome tide of death stretching as far as the eye could see. Blue blood pooled and smeared across the dirt, staining the ground with the vibrant hue of their strange, fungal lifeblood. The caravan came to an abrupt halt, wheels jerking as they hit the uneven terrain of corpses.


    "Gods above..." whispered a peddler, his face pale as he surveyed the carnage. He leaned forward from his perch, eyes wide with disbelief. "Did the goblins have a war or something?"


    "Be vigilant, comrades," a mercenary guard on horseback barked, his voice thick with unease. His eyes scanned the tree line, muscles tense beneath his armor. "Watch out for trolls."


    The caravan inched forward, the wheels of their carts thudding over the bodies, bumping and jostling as they rolled over the goblin corpses. It was a sickening sight¡ªblue blood splattered the sides of the carts, dripping from the wooden spokes, leaving dark, gory streaks behind. The merchants and travelers kept their eyes forward, trying not to look at the bodies, but the sight was impossible to ignore.


    And then, even stranger¡ªdeer.


    Among the sea of goblins, a small herd of deer stood, their heads bent low to the ground as they gnawed at the corpses. Their soft, brown eyes blinked in the sunlight as they tore goblin flesh between their teeth, gnawing with an almost mechanical hunger. When the deer noticed the approaching caravan, they paused, ears twitching, before bolting into the forest, vanishing like ghosts into the trees.


    "Aren¡¯t deer supposed to be herbivorous?" one of the merchants muttered, his voice tight with confusion and fear.


    "They must¡¯ve thought the goblins were plants," another replied, shaking his head. "Because they¡¯re green."


    It was an unsettling image, these gentle creatures reduced to scavengers among the dead. The mercenaries kept their hands near their weapons, eyes darting between the forest and the horizon, wary of something more sinister lurking amidst the aftermath. Goblin raids were common, but this... this was a massacre.


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    Meanwhile, Pacificus trudged on, his feet moving without pause. The road behind him was lined with the goblin bodies he had left in his wake, each one dispatched with cold precision. His eyes remained forward, his face set in quiet determination, though the strange occurrences around him continued to gnaw at the back of his mind.


    The goblins had stopped attacking.


    He noticed it first in their hesitation¡ªthe way they would emerge from the brush or creep from behind rocks, weapons at the ready, only to freeze the moment they spotted him. Their eyes would widen in fear, and then they would flee, their ragged forms disappearing into the shadows as if he were something far more terrifying than even the trolls they feared.


    It was odd. Goblins were nocturnal creatures, typically slinking away from the light of day, but these attacks had come during the morning. And the numbers¡ªthey had been endless. The swarm of them, pouring from the trees like a tidal wave, desperate and reckless. It wasn¡¯t natural. Pacificus couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was very wrong. And now, even though they ran from him, the fact that they had attacked at all¡ªat this time of day, in such numbers¡ªunnerved him.


    Perhaps it was because he traveled alone. Goblins were opportunistic, attacking lone travelers in the hopes of an easy kill. Had he been with a group, they might have hesitated. Strength came in numbers, a deterrent that even goblins understood. Like wolves or deer, even goblins respected the power of a herd. But Pacificus was alone, and they had seen an opportunity.


    Still, their behavior gnawed at him. Something darker seemed to be at play.


    As he walked, lost in thought, a new sight caught his eye, pulling him from his reverie. Ahead, lining the road like grim sentinels, were cages.


    Massive, iron-barred cages, each one holding the hulking, twisted forms of trolls. Their enormous bodies were crammed into the confines, their beady eyes glinting with a dull, animalistic rage. Some were dead, their massive forms slumped against the bars, while others barely clung to life, their breath ragged and wet. Their thick, vine-like beards were matted with blood, and the scent of decay and rot hung heavy in the air. The ground beneath the cages was slick with their dark blood, pooling in sickening puddles.


    Pacificus felt a wave of disgust wash over him as he passed the cages. The trolls were creatures of the wild, fierce and terrifying, but even they did not deserve such a fate. Their captivity, their blood spilled so callously, stirred something in him.


    Hunters stood nearby, armed with bows and spears, their eyes sharp and predatory as they guarded their prize. They watched the trolls with a cold detachment, their faces hardened from years of chasing down such beasts. For them, this was a profession, a means of survival. Just like the predators of the wild, they hunted to live, to thrive. Or at least... that¡¯s what Pacificus tried to believe.


    He clenched his jaw and forced his gaze away, his hands tightening into fists. The sight was too much. It was one thing to take a life in self-defense, another to reduce creatures¡ªliving, breathing creatures¡ªto mere trophies, caged and dying on the side of the road.


    Pacificus marched on, trying to push the sight from his mind, but the image of the caged trolls lingered. The road stretched ahead of him, long and uncertain, but the weight of what he had seen clung to him, making his steps feel heavier with each passing moment.