《Legacy of Alek》


 Chapter 01

    In the silence of the night, everything was as it should be. The sky was faintly illuminated by the dim light of the stars, the air was still, and time itself seemed to have come to a halt. But suddenly, something unexpected happened.


    First, a shadow appeared¡ªlike a forgotten memory of ancient times¡ªat first vague, then rapidly expanding into darkness. As the boundary between time and space dissolved, golden lights abruptly spread across the sky. Shades of orange, crimson, and yellow intertwined, swirling like a vortex in a hypnotic dance. The colours flowed, trembled, and shifted, like the notes of an ancient song.


    Anyone could have been captivated by the magic of these lights¡ªperhaps watching them as if they were a masterpiece, admiring their beauty. But I was not enchanted. Fear gripped me. I wanted to escape these lights, to look at the sky again, to return to the world where I could breathe. Where was this place? Who or what had pulled me here? Questions flooded my mind as I began to observe my surroundings, desperate for answers.


    At that moment, a deep, resonant sound echoed from an unknown source. It was like the song of a whale rising from distant oceans¡ªneither human nor any creature I had ever known. The sound rose, then fell, its undulating rhythm whispering in my ears.


    My skin prickled. For a fleeting moment, the sharp chill of fear coursed through my entire body. I knew I would never forget this sound, for it felt like an ancient call etched deep into my soul.


    Yet, as time passed, I strangely became certain that this sound meant me no harm. It was not threatening. It was calling to me, but it was not forcing me. It was a gentle and soothing melody¡ªlike a friend in the midst of the unknown.


    I wanted to ask who it was, what it wanted from me. I wanted to know where I was and where I was going. But when I opened my mouth, no sound emerged. The words vanished before they could take form.


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    No matter how hard I tried, my voice was gone. Here, in this strange world, there were only thoughts.


    The sound echoed for a while longer, then silence fell. The deep void of nothingness, the cold, grasping presence of the tunnel around me, sent shivers down my spine. My fear turned to anger. I wanted to scream my rage into the emptiness, but my voice was still missing. Then, even my anger faded, leaving behind only the dark void of uncertainty.


    I continued drifting through the tunnel. I had no idea how far I had gone. Time seemed to have lost its meaning here. Sometimes it felt like an eternity, sometimes as fleeting as the blink of an eye. The colours kept shifting, the patterns of light constantly morphing into new shapes. I could not even feel myself moving¡ªit was as if I were floating in a timeless current within the depths of space.


    In this unknown, I began to think. Thinking offered me a brief escape from the surreal existence surrounding me.


    Had that voice truly been there, or was it just an echo of the tunnel?


    No. It could not have been merely an echo. That voice was conscious. It was alive.


    I needed to name it somehow. The name Whaley came to mind because its sound had reminded me of a whale¡¯s song from the deep sea.


    So, I had made contact with a living being. But it was one-sided. I wanted to call out to it, but all I had was silence.


    This interaction both unsettled and intrigued me. Would I ever decipher the meaning of that voice? Was it merely a recording, or was it speaking directly to me? And most importantly¡ªwhat was the message it wished to convey?


    Unable to find answers, I set these questions aside. There were more urgent matters to consider.


    Where did this tunnel lead? How would I escape? Would I encounter Whaley again?


    But deep inside, I had a feeling. If Whaley had meant to harm me, it would have done so already. So why was I here?


    There was a deep loneliness in its voice¡ªa sorrow, yet a hidden kindness. It was the voice of an ancient being.


    Was it giving me a mission? If so, what was I supposed to do?


    As these thoughts consumed me, at last, a light appeared ahead.


    And finally, the tunnel had an end.

 CHAPTER 02

    The veil of darkness was still hanging in the room. However, a young boy, estimated to be around 14-15 years old, with brown hair, wheat-colored skin, a thin and innocent face, suddenly jolted upright in bed. His appearance was as if he had been pulled from the clutches of a terrible nightmare.


    A sharp pain echoed inside his head. His mind was filled with fog, his memories vague and blurred.


    ¡°Damn it¡­ my head hurts so much,¡± he whispered. Even moving was painful, as if his body was foreign to him.


    Just as he tried to sit up, his eyes caught sight of two people in the room. A couple in their sixties, standing close to each other... There was worry in their eyes, and an uncertain expression on their faces.


    Before he could question who they were or why they were here, the world spun around him, and his vision went black.


    The relentless crowing of a rooster signaled the arrival of morning. The first rays of the day filtered through the thin curtain of the window, striking Alek¡¯s face. He half-opened his eyes and carefully examined the unfamiliar environment he was in.


    As he sat up, he looked at his hands. These were not his hands. Younger, untouched by life, hands that had not yet gathered memories...


    He lifted his head slightly but hesitated as he felt the presence of a bandage on his forehead. His fingers reached for the cloth wrapped around his head.


    "Did the tunnel transfer me into someone else''s body?" he thought. Even his own voice sounded unfamiliar to him.


    He should have felt trapped in this strange new body, but oddly, everything felt natural. As if this body had belonged to him for years.


    He whispered to himself:


    "The wisdom of an old mind, combined with the energy of a young body... Now that¡¯s a perfect combination."


    He would not make the same mistakes he had before. After all, youth was like a second chance.


    The walls of the room he was in were made of adobe. It had a simple yet warm atmosphere. In a space that was neither too big nor too small, the bed, seating area, and kitchen were all in one.


    A fireplace stood right in the middle of the room, built with old but sturdy stonework. The soot marks on the walls bore silent witness to the years of burning wood.


    Alek watched the warm glow of the fire. Sparks danced inside the fireplace, the crackling sound of burning wood filled the air. He could listen to this comforting sound for hours.


    But now was not the time to be mesmerized.


    He needed to gather more information about where he was and how he had arrived here.


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    To shield himself from the cold, he wrapped a traditionally patterned blanket from the bed around his shoulders. Then, gently pushing the heavy wooden door open, he stepped outside.


    The wind was softer than he had expected, but the morning chill could still be felt. His precautions had not been in vain.


    His eyes landed on a small structure a little further from the house, resembling a shed. It was obvious that it was an outdoor toilet.


    He thought to himself, ¡°I never imagined I¡¯d be in such an old-fashioned village house.¡±


    He furrowed his brows. The thought that this world was not very advanced unsettled him.


    "Will I be able to find the comforts of my old world here?"


    Just as he had been filled with joy at regaining his youth, he now realized that he would have to face the hardships of living in this new world.


    As he walked forward with heavy steps, his eyes wandered toward the distant field. There, two figures were working the soil.


    He paused for a moment. The people working in the field looked familiar to him.


    Narrowing his eyes to get a better look, he realized that they were the elderly couple he had seen the night before.


    The man, appearing to be in his late sixties, had a thick beard and a prominent nose. But what caught Alek¡¯s attention the most was the red, cone-shaped hat on his head.


    This man seemed as if he had stepped out of ancient times, carrying his wisdom with him like an old tree.


    The woman, on the other hand, had a few strands of black among her otherwise white hair, carrying the traces of the past. Her hazel eyes sparkled, and her flushed cheekbones reflected both the toughness and warmth that the years had given her.


    But the most striking thing was their clothing.


    She wore a black headscarf, but it was not a simple scarf¡ªit was a work of art adorned with colorful floral motifs.


    Her dress was black, but its collar and shirt were white, decorated with floral patterns. The black apron tied over her trousers was embellished with delicate pink flowers.


    Even the dark mustard-colored boots on her feet reflected the craftsmanship and labor of past times.


    The woman¡¯s stance carried both the diligence of a hardworking villager and the elegance of traditions that had stood the test of time.


    Alek pulled his gaze away from the woman¡¯s clothes and fell into his own thoughts. If he had his phone with him, he would have taken a picture without hesitation.


    But now, in this new world, he needed to learn who they were and what he was doing here.


    He turned inward and searched his feelings. Not knowing who they were only deepened his unease.


    "Why did I come here?"


    And perhaps most importantly,


    "What kind of fate will these people bring me?"

 Chapter 03

    The morning chill hung over the field like a thin veil of mist. Two figures, slightly bent over, were busy weeding out wild plants among the vegetable crops, their hands meeting the soil.


    My steps made a faint rustling sound on the damp grass. Approaching the elderly couple, I spoke in a gentle voice:


    "Good morning, do you need any help?"


    The old couple must have noticed me coming from afar, as they paused their work and took a moment to rest.


    The woman, with a tired yet warm smile on her face, spoke:


    "Oh no, dear, the work is nearly finished anyway. You don¡¯t need to help. Did you sleep well? Are you feeling better?"


    There was such genuine warmth in her voice that an inexplicable feeling stirred within me. This kind of kindness was unfamiliar to me.


    Lowering my head slightly in a hesitant manner, I replied,


    "Yes, I slept well. Thank you."


    The woman sighed softly, as if recalling the events of the previous night.


    "You suddenly got up and fainted last night. We were so worried. If I hadn¡¯t told this wooden-headed husband of mine, he wouldn¡¯t have even noticed we had moved you to a new bed."


    At her words, the elderly man beside her grumbled in response:


    "Come now, woman, that¡¯s not fair! The lad stood up so suddenly and fainted, I was in shock. I didn¡¯t know what to do."


    Then, squinting his eyes, he turned to me and gave me a once-over. Wrapped in a blanket as I was, I probably didn¡¯t present the most reassuring sight.


    "Son, you¡¯ve grown so thin. In the past, I was used to splitting logs and carrying huge stacks of wood, and even though I¡¯ve grown old, carrying you was far too easy. Your body is weak and exhausted."


    The woman cleared her throat lightly, cutting off her husband, and changed the subject.


    "My dear, you must have many questions to ask. And we, too, are curious about many things regarding you. But for now, let¡¯s set those thoughts aside, shall we?" she said with a gentle expression.


    "It¡¯s cold out here. Go inside and warm yourself by the fireplace. We¡¯ll come to you after finishing up a few things here. I¡¯ll prepare a nice breakfast for you, and we¡¯ll eat together. Go on now, don¡¯t catch a chill."


    The warmth in her voice wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. Without much room to argue, I simply accepted her words and turned towards the adobe house.


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    As I walked slowly back to the house, an odd sense of peace settled within me. This elderly couple, in an unusual yet endearing way, felt strangely familiar.


    Just before stepping inside, I couldn¡¯t help but glance back. The old couple had set their work aside and were now playfully bickering. The woman¡¯s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, while the man responded with a teasing smile.


    A warmth I couldn¡¯t quite explain bloomed within me. I smiled faintly.


    Continuing on my way, I began observing my surroundings.


    The house was a typical old village home. A small yet functional barn, a garden where fresh vegetables were grown, the sound of chickens rising from the coop, and fruit trees¡­


    This was a place untouched by time, carrying a unique sense of tranquillity.


    Situated on a slightly elevated spot, it provided a view that stretched far into the distance.


    My eyes landed on the valley below, where small, closely packed houses sprouted like mushrooms. It was clear that the elderly couple had chosen to live away from society, creating their own world.


    "Perhaps as people grow older, their tolerance for others diminishes," I thought to myself.


    Who knows, maybe I would follow the same path one day.


    As I turned my head a little more, the towering mountains stood before me in all their splendour.


    Their bare rocky surfaces were draped in a cloak of emerald green pines.


    The scenery was breathtaking, as if it had been lifted from a masterpiece painting.


    "This world is old, but beautiful."


    I decided to heed my hosts'' advice and head inside without lingering too long.


    Just as I was about to step into the house, I heard a faint sound.


    At first, I thought it was just the wind playing tricks on me. But the sound grew clearer.


    A voice, almost like a whisper¡ª


    At first, it was a muffled murmur, but now it was becoming distinct.


    "A photo has been taken. A photo has been taken. A photo has been taken. Would you like to view the captured photos?"


    My eyes widened.


    I knew this voice.


    For a moment, my breath caught in my throat.


    Then, I realised.


    "Eureka! Eureka!"


    This was Siri¡ªmy smartphone¡¯s assistant.


    But¡­ how could Siri be inside my mind?


    Had Whaley, the entity that brought me here, somehow perceived my phone and me as one?


    In the old world, people spent most of their lives with their phones. Perhaps Whaley had mistaken devices as an extension of our bodies.


    If that was the case, this was not surprising at all.


    A wave of curiosity surged within me.


    "Siri, show the captured photos," I said, my voice trembling slightly.


    "As you wish."


    And suddenly, images appeared in my mind.


    Photos of the smiling old woman in her traditional clothing, pictures of her alongside her husband¡­


    Some captured them striking odd poses, while others preserved completely natural moments.


    As I gazed at them, an inexplicable emotion took root inside me.


    And then¡­ I laughed.


    Siri had fused with my consciousness.


    The sheer absurdity of this new reality amused me.


    "I can do anything now with my smart assistant," I thought.


    But unfortunately, compared to my old world, this one was far behind in terms of progress.


    The joy that had just swelled in my chest quickly faded, replaced by a deep sense of melancholy.


    Feeling somewhat hollow, I stepped inside the adobe house.

 Chapter 04

    I sat by the fireplace and stretched my hands towards the flickering flames. The cold from outside had seeped into my skin, but the fire¡¯s warm touch slowly erased the traces left by the wind.


    Yet, the cold within me was sharper, more stubborn than the cold outside.


    My mind was filled with countless questions, all waiting for answers.


    How was it that I, someone from another world, could speak and understand the language of these people?


    Why had Whaley sent me here? What kind of fate awaited me in this world?


    And most importantly¡­


    What had happened to me that my forehead was wrapped in bandages?


    The dancing light of the fire cast trembling shadows on the walls. Just as sparks floated momentarily in the air before vanishing, my thoughts appeared and disappeared just as swiftly.


    But the weight of these questions was nothing like the lightness of the sparks.


    If not for the soothing sound of the fireplace, I would have been crushed under the burden of these thoughts.


    Lowering my head slightly, I reached up to touch the bandages wrapped around my forehead. The itching caused mild discomfort, but the real issue was not knowing the source of this wound, which still ached in places.


    "I must have hit my head somewhere," I thought.


    But that wasn¡¯t my biggest concern right now.


    I needed information. I had to learn how I had arrived here, who I was, and whether this body truly belonged to me.


    The more I thought about it, the more disturbing a truth surfaced.


    When I came to this world, I wasn¡¯t in my own body. When I awoke, I felt as though I had been trapped inside a foreign vessel.


    "So then¡­ what about the real owner of this body?"


    If it had a rightful owner, where was their consciousness?


    And most importantly¡­


    Were this body¡¯s past memories still hidden somewhere?


    Because for me to understand the old couple¡¯s language, this body must have spoken it before.


    That could only mean one thing:


    The memories of this body¡¯s previous owner must be buried within me.


    Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes.


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    "Siri, can you access my memory? If you can, find out what kind of accident happened to this body¡¯s former owner. Also, prepare a summary and play it in my mind as a video."


    The moment my thought was complete, a sudden pain shot through my head.


    All at once, Siri¡¯s mechanical voice echoed in my mind:


    "Former host¡¯s memories located. Scanning body¡¯s past memories... Missing memory fragments detected. Reconstructing missing memories... Preparing video... Video ready... Sharing with consciousness."


    And then¡­


    My mind was momentarily engulfed in pure white.


    It felt as though dozens of blades had been driven into my brain all at once.


    I shut my eyes and grasped my head with both hands. This pain was beyond words.


    But after a while, an image formed.


    And I was no longer myself¡ªI was witnessing someone else¡¯s memories.


    His name was Alek.


    He was only fourteen years old.


    Like me, he was a lonely soul.


    Young Alek had worked as an apprentice to a farrier, under the care of someone believed to be a distant relative. His life was small but orderly¡­


    Until rebellion broke out in his town.


    Amid the chaos and flames, he lost his family, his job, and suddenly became an orphan.


    He was desperate.


    He had no choice but to search for a way out.


    During that time, he began hearing stories from merchants.


    Stories of a place known as Apsa.


    A city where people never ran out, where food was plentiful, where towering stone buildings rivalled the mountains¡­


    A land where even a mere slave could become king, as long as they met the conditions.


    Alek placed all his hopes on Apsa.


    He had nowhere to go, no home to return to, not even a single gold coin in his pocket.


    But he started walking.


    He set out on a journey that lasted for weeks.


    From a place called Parha, he walked until his feet were raw and bleeding.


    However¡­ the journey did not go as he had hoped.


    He found neither food nor water.


    No bed, no warm blanket to wrap himself in¡­


    He wandered abandoned streets, unable to find even a small corner to rest his head.


    And then¡­


    His body could no longer endure the hunger.


    He collapsed.


    As he fainted, his head struck a dull-edged stone.


    And after that¡­


    He opened his eyes in the very bed where I had awakened.


    When the images faded, my head was still throbbing.


    But now, I was certain of one thing:


    This body did not belong to me.


    And its past¡­


    Had now become my past.


    The flames in the fireplace roared.


    I picked up a piece of wood and tossed it into the fire, watching as the sparks momentarily leapt into the air.


    The memories of a boy who once shaped horseshoes with his hands, whose hopes had turned to ashes in a fire, who had walked endless roads alone¡ª


    All of them had now settled within me.


    The weight of possessing this body pressed down on my shoulders.


    It was impossible not to feel sorrow for Alek.


    But sadly¡­


    This world was just like my old one.


    The powerless were always left at the mercy of the strong.


    The oppressors always won.


    A mix of sorrow and burning rage surged within me.


    And just at that moment¡­


    The door of the adobe house creaked open.

 Chapter 05

    The old woman slipped inside, carrying the sharp touch of the cold air on her face. Her cheeks had turned pink from the frost outside, and fine lines had formed on her forehead. The thick shawl wrapped around her shoulders still seemed to let in the chill. She paused as she stepped in, straightened her posture, and placed her hands firmly on her hips with an authoritative expression. With a tired yet dignified air, she pursed her lips and spoke:


    "Oh, you little rascal! I went through all that trouble to bandage your head, and now you¡¯ll scratch your scabs and make them bleed again, won¡¯t you? My dear, don¡¯t just stand there like that¡ªyou might get dizzy and faint again."


    Her voice carried a warmth that reinforced her authority, like the roots of an old tree that refused to bend to the wind. This sincere yet disciplined approach warmed me inside. With a slight smile, I nodded from where I sat and replied:


    "You¡¯re right. I¡¯ll head straight to bed. By the way, your bandaging skills seem quite masterful. Are you a healer?"


    Upon hearing my words, the woman let out a sweet laugh. Her laughter was like the comforting crackle of the fire in the hearth, filling the room with a soothing presence.


    "Yes, dear," said Arwa Ana, her eyes glinting with the shadow of old memories. "I am a healer. Those who fall ill or expect a child always come to me in this area. My mother taught me this craft, just as her mother taught her. I do not know if my hands are truly healing, but with the knowledge and experience given to me by the Gods, I try to help people. Speaking of bandages, I need to change the one on your head. Now, don¡¯t move too much, dear."


    Her voice was as gentle and firm as a mother comforting her child. This warmth filled me with a sense of gratitude, and I felt compelled to express it.


    "Thank you for helping me in my current state. If it weren¡¯t for you, I might have died. Also, you didn¡¯t need to go to such lengths to prepare such a detailed breakfast. I could easily manage with just a piece of bread and cheese."


    Arwa Ana furrowed her brows, pursed her lips, and clapped her hands against her apron.


    "Young man, do you hear yourself? Anyone in our position would have done the same. Besides, only the Gods decide whether you live or die. You are lucky¡ªthey wanted you to live. Please, put those negative thoughts out of your mind, hmm? You are a gift from the Gods to us. It has been a long time since we had a guest, and the Gods sent you to us. I will prepare a nice breakfast for you. Old Daneel will be here soon. When he arrives, we always have breakfast together. What do you think?"


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    Her voice reminded me of old prayers that mothers whispered to soothe their children. There was sincerity in her words, which put me at ease. Lowering my head slightly, I said, "Thank you, ma¡¯am," and headed towards the bed.


    Hearing this, the woman nodded, rubbed her arms for warmth, and confidently walked to the kitchen, where she began working at the stove. The room was soon filled with the scents of spices from jars I had never seen before. I closed my eyes slightly and tried to rest.


    After a while, Daneel entered. His old yet sturdy clothes were covered in dust. He placed a short-legged table in the middle of the room, and Arwa, without pausing, began setting out the food she had prepared. The table was adorned with white cheese made from goat¡¯s milk, dried fruits, olives, eggs, butter, and bread toasted with red pepper flakes. Small clay bowls held jams and freshly squeezed fruit juice. Seeing me, Daneel smiled and said, "Come, young man, breakfast is ready¡ªlet¡¯s eat together."


    I got up from where I was sitting and approached the table. With a cheerful yet teasing tone, Daneel added:


    "Thanks to my wife, we don¡¯t see breakfasts like this very often. Come on, don¡¯t miss this rare treat."


    Arwa raised her eyebrows and shot her husband a sharp look. I do not know how women manage to assert absolute authority with just a glance, but when Daneel saw that look, he chuckled lightly and tore off a piece of bread. Arwa took a deep breath and said:


    "My dear, forgive me. When you were hungry, I fed you. When you were cold, I clothed you. When the time came, I washed your clothes and mended what needed fixing. But my husband is so old now that he has forgotten all that I have done for him."


    Daneel let out a soft laugh and murmured, "Alright, alright, my dear."


    Throughout breakfast, they playfully bickered, their conversation light-hearted and affectionate. I ate in silence, watching them. Though they teased each other, the love and respect they shared were undeniable. In this humble home, they had supported each other for years, enduring difficult times together.


    When breakfast ended, Arwa stood up to clear the table. I offered to help, but the elderly couple kindly refused. It was clear they had their own established routine.


    Daneel took a sip of his coffee before turning to me and saying:


    "You know, lad, when I was young, I fought in many small battles. When I retired, I left that bloody life behind and settled here. Farming feels much more peaceful."


    Arwa nodded at her husband¡¯s words and added with a soft smile:


    "I, too, came from far away, just like you. Thanks to my family¡¯s medical skills, I was accepted here. I am keeping alive the legacy my mother left me. They believe my hands hold healing power."


    There was pride in her words, but it was accompanied by a quiet humility. Her husband, seemingly accustomed to her self-praise, simply smiled.


    Inside me, there was a growing sense of peace from having met this elderly couple. I did not know if the Gods had brought me here for a reason. But deep down, I felt that I would stay here for a while.


    As the cold air from outside began to creep into the room, the old couple sat by the fire. After a while, I joined them. Sitting in the dim glow of the hearth¡¯s light, I felt as though I had stepped into a tale of old.

 Chapter 06

    By the fire, as its light flickered and danced on the walls, we began to talk together. While the warm glow of the flames warmed us from within, Daneel fixed his eyes directly on me and asked:


    "I found you on the side of the gravel road, covered in blood, son. From what I can tell, you come from far away. Tell me, who are you? Where have you come from, and where are you going?"


    When Arwa heard her husband''s hasty interrogation, she frowned slightly. Her voice was a little annoyed, yet still full of kindness.


    "Daneel, the young man has barely recovered. Can¡¯t you let him rest for a while? What¡¯s the rush? It¡¯s as if you''re trying to salvage goods from a fire."


    I could feel the elderly couple¡¯s concern. It was obvious that they cared for me. To put them at ease, I gave a faint smile and tried to compose myself as I spoke.


    "Arwa, thank you for your kindness. I feel quite well. Though my memory is a little hazy due to hitting my head, I will try to explain who I am. My name is Aleksandu, but everyone calls me Alek. A war broke out in a city called Parha, and I lost everything¡ªmy family, my job, my home... I have no money left, nor a place to seek refuge. I heard from people that the city of Apsa is full of opportunities. So, I decided to go there. I set out from Parha to Apsa, but the journey was long and exhausting. Hunger, fatigue, and thirst brought me down, and I passed out. You know the rest. If it weren¡¯t for kind-hearted people like you, I would probably be dead by now."


    My words lingered in the air for a while. A shadow of sorrow fell over the elderly couple¡¯s faces. Daneel pondered for a moment before taking a deep breath and speaking.


    "Parha is very, very far from here. When I was young, I once traveled there by ship. I was a soldier back then. Parha was a lively and prosperous place where many different peoples lived together. Walking such a long distance by land is incredible. The gods must have truly wanted you to survive. Your journey was filled with dangers¡ªhunger, thirst, wild animals, the suffocating waters of rivers, steep cliffs... And worse still, the cruel raiders, mankind¡¯s most dangerous enemy... That you made it here alive is nothing short of a miracle."


    Arwa let out a deep sigh at her husband''s words. Her eyes grew moist, as if she had lived through that long and arduous journey herself.


    "Oh, my dear! What a life of suffering you have endured. But at least you are here now, safe and sound. And you have only a few hours left to reach Apsa. War... What a greedy, merciless beast you are! Devouring everything in your path¡ªinnocents, homes, hopes..."


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    Tears, like pearls, rolled down her cheeks. Seeing his wife in this state, Daneel stepped closer and gently touched her shoulder to console her. The tears in Arwa¡¯s eyes were those of a mother mourning a lost child.


    Seeing this made my heart ache. As people grow older, they truly become less able to control their emotions. When one is young, the painful memories of the past are veiled by a mist, but as old age comes, that mist lifts, and one is forced to confront the sorrows they thought they had forgotten. Would I, too, be like this when I grew old? Would the shadows of the past find me as well?


    Daneel¡¯s voice pulled me from my thoughts.


    "Forgive us, son, my wife¡¯s memories have resurfaced. When she saw you, she was reminded of our son. We could not have children for a long time, but the gods finally blessed us with a child. That was the happiest day of my life. Our son was a young man around your age. He wanted to follow in my footsteps and became a soldier, but he passed away at a very young age. His loss made me withdrawn and reserved. We have been alone ever since. But do not be troubled, son. Since you arrived, my wife has seemed happier. She only remembered the past, that¡¯s all. We old folks sometimes hold on to our memories too tightly."


    The old man¡¯s voice was sorrowful, but there was a sense of acceptance in his grief. In response to his words, I lowered my head slightly and spoke sincerely.


    "I take no offense at all. I am infinitely grateful for Arwa¡¯s delicious meals, the warmth of your fire, and your hospitality. If it were


    My words seemed to bring some comfort to the old woman¡¯s face. The sorrow in her eyes gave way to a softer expression.


    "My dear, did you really like my cooking? Then I shall prepare the best meals I can for you. I haven¡¯t known you for long, but I have this feeling¡­ as if I have known you for years. You leave an unexplainable impression on people."


    Daneel sat silently beside her, nodding in agreement. We talked by the fire until night fell. Our words melted into the warmth of the room, blending with the flow of time.


    Here, people went to bed early. Or perhaps it was just this elderly couple, accustomed to rising and resting with the sun. Since we did not each have separate rooms, we slept in different corners of the same room, making the most of the fire¡¯s warmth. At first, the idea of sharing a room with others seemed uncomfortable to me, but here, in their presence, it brought a strange sense of peace.


    Before sleeping, I witnessed the prayers offered to the gods. Compared to my old world, the people here were far more devout. To adapt, I joined them in their prayers and prepared to spend the night in this unfamiliar yet welcoming world.

 Chapter 07

    My days passed by with my wound being dressed and my mind lost in deep contemplation. Though my hosts insisted that I needed rest to recover, idleness felt like torment to me. When one is left unoccupied, the mind delves into its deepest corners, and thus, the darkest questions begin to arise.


    What exactly was this Whaley that had brought me here? Was my arrival a mere coincidence, or was it a deliberate act? Had I been given a purpose, or was it simply the winds of fate that had carried me from my former land to this strange new place? The way my smart assistant, Siri, worked in such harmony with my mind made me wonder how far I could push its limits. If I had lived in a world where technology was almost on par with magic, perhaps adapting would have been far easier. But this world was different. Here, everything was earned through effort, toil, and time.


    My hosts would wake with the first light of dawn, hurriedly have their breakfast, and immediately set about their tasks. Daneel would chop wood in the crisp morning air, tend to the animals, and clean the pen. Arwa, on the other hand, would take care of the vegetable garden, gather herbs to dry for the winter, and at times, prepare remedies for the sick. Our days followed a familiar rhythm, each much like the last.


    Arwa would occasionally receive visitors. The sick, weary travellers, or expectant mothers would seek her guidance and treatment, for she was known as Mother Healer. It was clear that she was an exceptional healer. I was curious about the mixtures she gave her patients, the dried herbs she used, and the techniques she employed. Instead of money, she often accepted goods in exchange for her services¡ªbaskets filled with fruit, dried meat, or the black-feathered, deep-voiced water hens known in the region.


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    However, I could not bear to remain idle in such a structured life. While my hosts busied themselves with their tasks, the thought of sitting around aimlessly did not sit well with me. My own family had taught me that a man could only be truly free through work. Now, here I was, in the presence of such generous people, and I felt I should at least do my part.


    One morning, Arwa left to assist a village woman in childbirth. That meant only Daneel and I remained in the house. The old man had already spent the morning chopping wood and tending to the animals.


    ¡°Daneel,¡± I said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to sit around idly any longer. I feel well enough and would like to do something useful. Is there anything I can help with?¡±


    The old man considered my words. At first, he seemed reluctant to assign me a task, but upon seeing the determination on my face, he changed his mind.


    ¡°Well then, lad, since you¡¯re keen to be of use, I do have a job for you,¡± Daneel said. ¡°This house is built of adobe and has sheltered us for many years. But adobe houses, much like people, age over time and need repairs. The roof has developed some holes. Autumn is here, and soon the rains will come. If we don¡¯t seal those holes, water will seep in, and we won¡¯t be able to keep the warmth in.¡±


    ¡°As we repair the adobe, I¡¯ll show you how it¡¯s done. It¡¯s a good skill to learn¡ªyou never know when you might need it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never repaired an adobe house before,¡± I admitted. ¡°But I¡¯m eager to learn from you.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Daneel nodded. ¡°To fix adobe houses, we need a special mortar mix. I need to gather the necessary materials for it. Stay here for now. It might be colder outside than it looks, but I won¡¯t be long.¡±


    With that, he stepped out, leaving me by the fireplace. As I sat there waiting, I realised once again how little I truly knew about this world. And yet, the prospect of learning something new stirred a sense of excitement within me.

 Chapter 08

    I carefully turned my gaze to the walls and ceiling, inspecting the holes that had formed over time. By the time Daneel returned, I had already identified several gaps, large and small. These cracks, created by time, the wind, and perhaps the ageing of the adobe structure itself, were slowly letting the warmth escape while inviting in the sharp chill of autumn. As the door creaked open slightly, I turned my attention to it¡ªour retired soldier had finally returned.


    "Young man, bring me the clay basin from the kitchen and the ceramic jar of hot water I prepared by the fireplace," Daneel said, his voice as confident as ever, though with a slight urgency.


    I set off to complete his request. Heading into the kitchen, I carefully gathered the materials he had asked for, making sure to handle them with caution. The jar in my hands was still warm, and a faint steam rose from its ceramic surface. I carried everything over to Daneel and placed them before him.


    "Good job, lad," he said with a slight nod of approval. "Now, I need you to watch me closely. Listen carefully to what I say, and if anything is unclear, don¡¯t hesitate to ask, alright?"


    I nodded in agreement and focused on his instructions.


    "Now, young man, we¡¯re going to prepare the adobe mortar to repair these holes. We¡¯ll mix clay soil, straw, and hot water in this basin. Then, we¡¯ll knead it thoroughly with our hands. You see, adobe houses are different from stone buildings¡ªthey stay cool in summer and warm in winter. But they have a drawback: they don¡¯t last as long. While stone houses can stand for generations, adobe homes, if not properly maintained, will crumble back into the earth. They might not even last a single generation."


    I listened carefully, absorbing his words. Slowly, I raised my head to ask a question.


    "Why do we add hot water to the mix? Wouldn¡¯t normal water work just as well?"


    Daneel smiled slightly, stroking his beard. It was clear he appreciated the question.


    "Good question, lad. This kind of repair is usually done in the summer. But for certain reasons, we didn¡¯t get around to it then. Now, with autumn¡¯s chill setting in, the water is cold. Using hot water helps achieve the right consistency. The clay dissolves more easily and bonds better with the straw and other materials."


    After explaining, he poured the large chunk of clay into the basin and carefully added the hot water. As he began kneading, I noticed how quickly the mixture started to take form. The clay and water blended into a heavy, sticky mud between his fingers. As he worked, the texture became smoother, taking shape under his strong hands. However, he had not yet added the straw. I couldn¡¯t resist asking.


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    "Daneel, when do we add the straw?" I asked, watching him closely.


    The old man paused for a moment and looked at me with a strange expression. Then he shook his head and chuckled.


    "Ah, lad, I nearly forgot! Without straw, the mixture won¡¯t hold together¡ªit won¡¯t be strong enough. Clay binds with straw to reinforce the structure. Fibrous grasses can also be used, but since we have plenty of straw, that¡¯s what we¡¯ll use."


    With that, he added a generous handful of straw into the mixture and continued kneading. Even with his hands covered in mud, his movements displayed both precision and mastery.


    "Lad," Daneel said after kneading for a while, "the mortar is ready now. I¡¯m giving you a task. Take this trowel and apply the mix to the holes. I¡¯ll show you how to do it first."


    He then picked up a small clay container he had brought from outside and filled it with the mortar. Using the trowel in his hand, he carefully sealed a hole in the ceiling with meticulous precision. As he worked, it was evident that he carried the skill and experience of years. He moved slowly, ensuring that I could follow his every motion, almost as if he wanted me to memorise his technique.


    "Alek, can you patch up the holes the way I did? Can you complete the task I¡¯m giving you?" he asked, looking directly into my eyes.


    His method was now clear in my mind. "Yes, I can do it just as you showed me," I replied confidently.


    Daneel nodded in approval. "Well then, here you go," he said, handing me the trowel and the mortar-filled container.


    Just as I was about to start working, a thought crossed my mind, and I silently asked Siri, "Siri, can we replicate Daneel¡¯s technique? Can I work in exactly the same way using the information he provided?"


    Siri¡¯s voice echoed in my mind: "Daneel¡¯s expertise has been recorded in past observations. Accessing memory files... Playing recorded video... Simulated experience has been generated based on repeated observations. The simulated experience is now available. Would you like to save it in memory?"


    "Yes, save it," I responded. Suddenly, it was as if Daneel¡¯s previous movements were etched into my mind. With the trowel in hand, I began working. I applied the mortar to the holes with such skill and precision that an outsider would have assumed I had been doing this for years. Thanks to the data Siri provided, I had nearly reached an expert level.


    Daneel observed me closely. After a while, he nodded with a satisfied expression.


    "Well done, lad," he said. "You said you¡¯d never done this before. But from what I see, you¡¯ve done a remarkable job for a first-timer. I don¡¯t know if this is a natural talent or if you have another secret. But it doesn¡¯t matter¡ªthe result speaks for itself. Anyway, I have work to do outside. Keep at it here."


    With that, he opened the door and stepped out. I watched him leave, then continued my work with precision.


    In those moments, repairing the adobe house, I felt¡ªperhaps for the first time¡ªthat I had truly accomplished something here. Every small patch I applied with my hands felt like carving out a place for myself in this new world. And somehow, that brought me a quiet sense of peace.

 Chapter 09

    As the sunset slowly turned the sky into shades of purple, stretching shadows and casting a dim serenity inside the house, I carefully sealed the holes in the ceiling and walls. Stepping back, I observed my work with a sense of satisfaction. My hands, restless from not having engaged in such meaningful labour for a long time, rubbed together gently. The emptiness that had filled me for days was replaced, at least in part, by a sense of relief.


    I bent down towards the wooden bucket in the corner of the room to clean my dirty hands, washing and drying them thoroughly. Then, I sat by the fireplace, warming myself as I watched the delicate dance of the flames. Lost in thought, I hardly noticed the passing of time, only realising it when I asked Siri, who informed me that evening had long since fallen and the clock had already struck seven. A sense of unease crept over me. Daneel and Arwa had not yet returned. The elderly couple¡¯s delay gnawed at my nerves. Had something happened to them? Or had they merely lost track of time? Just as these thoughts crowded my mind, the wooden door suddenly swung open, allowing the cool evening air to sweep in along with Arwa and Daneel.


    Both looked exhausted yet content. They carried what could only be described as the spoils of their day¡¯s efforts. In Arwa¡¯s woven basket lay a goat leg, while Daneel bore two large baskets filled with stones and firewood. Without hesitation, I took the heavy baskets from Daneel¡¯s hands and placed them by the fireplace. Arwa nodded approvingly, her face radiating warmth¡ªdespite her years of experience as a healer, she still found joy in helping others.


    "Alek, my dear, you''ve done a wonderful job!" she said, surveying the repaired walls with her eyes. "You needn''t have worn yourself out so much, my child. We¡¯ll look after you, don¡¯t worry. The gods favour you; you¡¯re lucky. Today, I assisted in a villager¡¯s childbirth, and as a token of gratitude, they gifted me this fine goat leg. Daneel will prepare a dish so rich in flavour that once you taste it, you¡¯ll never forget it."


    Her words were cheerful, her voice full of kindness, yet I still felt somewhat shy. I simply nodded in response. Arwa narrowed her eyes, eyeing me with playful suspicion.


    "What¡¯s the matter with you? Has a bee stung your tongue?" she teased, raising an eyebrow. "It¡¯s just us here, my dear, no need to be bashful. Besides, this meal is being made especially for you. You¡¯re skin and bones! Eat well, regain your strength."


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    Her words made me smile; her sincerity was undeniable. "Alright, I¡¯ll do as you say. I¡¯ll try to be more talkative," I said with a grin.


    By then, Daneel had already started preparing the meat in the kitchen. Arwa and I sat by the fire, settling into conversation.


    "Arwa," I asked curiously, "which villager did you help deliver their child? You were gone quite a while¡ªI was worried about you."


    Arwa sighed, though her smile remained. "I helped a newlywed couple at the edge of the village bring their first child into the world. If a birth is not done properly, both mother and baby are at risk of dying. In capable hands, that risk lessens."


    Then, patting her belly, she let out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha, huhuhu! I may be getting old, but I can still do my job. My late mother always said I inherited my grandmother¡¯s healing hands."


    I heard her words, yet I didn¡¯t entirely believe in the idea of ¡®miraculous hands.¡¯ Most likely, Arwa¡¯s skill was simply the result of years of experience and knowledge. Still, I paused for a moment in thought. People my age in my old world would be in school, while here, they were getting married and having children. It was a stark contrast. The brevity of life here had profoundly shaped their way of living.


    "You¡¯ve certainly proven yourself to be an experienced healer," I said sincerely. "And to be honest, I wouldn¡¯t say you¡¯re that old¡ªmiddle-aged at most. I wish I had as much medical knowledge and skill as you."


    Arwa burst into laughter. "Hahaha, huhuhu! My dear, all you need is the desire to learn. Knowledge isn¡¯t easily shared, but I¡¯m not like the others. I¡¯m getting older; I need an apprentice. As you can see, what I know brings valuable rewards. If you become as skilled as I am, you too will benefit. Life will be a little easier for you. So, what do you say¡ªwould you like to be my apprentice?"


    She looked at me with such enthusiasm that I couldn¡¯t help but smile. "Yes, I would like to be your apprentice and help people."


    Who would turn down such an opportunity? In this world, as in my old one, healers were respected. The ability to save lives and aid others was something priceless.


    "Alright, my dear," Arwa said, looking satisfied. "Starting tomorrow, I will teach you what I know. In fact, I would have started today, but I¡¯m too tired¡ªI need to rest."


    Hearing this, I nodded in agreement and steered our conversation towards another topic. As we spent the night enjoying the elderly couple¡¯s cheerful chatter and the warm glow of the fire, I silently thanked the gods, wondering what the next day would bring.

 Chapter 10

    Arwa''s brown eyes narrowed slightly as she examined my work. With her hands on her hips and her head tilted, she observed with meticulous scrutiny. There was a serious yet satisfied expression on her face.


    "Arwa, I always approach my work with great seriousness and dedication," I said, seeking a kind of approval. "What do you think of the walls and ceiling? Do you like them?"


    The elderly woman nodded, a faint smile appearing on her lips. "Alek, you''ve done a craftsman¡¯s job," she said in an appreciative tone. "That old husband of mine always kept putting things off. Thank the gods you¡¯ve completed it with your own hands. Thanks to you, we''ll be protected from the rain and the freezing cold this winter."


    Her words filled me with pride. However, I couldn¡¯t tell if her sharp tongue was a trait of old age or simply part of her nature since youth. What I did know was that she was a straightforward, open-hearted woman.


    At that moment, Daneel''s voice rose from the fireplace. "Arwa, I can hear everything you''re saying from here," he said, not taking his eyes off the fire. His wife shrugged slightly, giving the impression that she didn¡¯t care whether he heard or not. Not wanting their conversation to escalate into a debate, I decided to change the subject.


    "Daneel, I think you must be quite skilled at cooking meat," I said, trying to soften the atmosphere. "Otherwise, Arwa wouldn¡¯t entrust the task to you."


    The old man fell into a brief silence, his eyes drifting into the distance. "Yes, lad, I''m good at cooking meat," he said, his voice filled with the weight of years past. "Back when I was a soldier, I always prepared meals for my comrades. I gained a lot of experience, and I was well known as a good cook in my circle."


    After speaking, he fell quiet again, his face settling into a distant longing. Meanwhile, Arwa, exhausted from her long walk, sat silently by the fire. I focused on watching Daneel. He carefully placed the smooth, pre-washed stones among the embers in the fireplace. Then, taking out a sharp knife, he began slicing the meat in a way that would maximise its surface area. Once the cutting was complete, he selected a pinch of spices from the array he had laid out on the table¡ªdried tree leaves, crushed red pepper, thyme, and coarse salt. He poured the preheated butter into a clay bowl and mixed it with the spices before carefully rubbing the mixture onto the meat.


    As soon as Daneel placed the meat on the fire-warmed stones, the kitchen filled with a mouth-watering aroma. The "sizzle" sound it made upon touching the stones heightened our hunger even more. However, Daneel was entirely focused on his task, only realising I had been watching him when he finished arranging the meat.


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    "Alek, this must be your first time eating meat cooked on stone, isn''t it?" he asked, turning to me. "I''m sure you''ll love the taste. Now, I''ll place some other ingredients beside the embers to complement the meat."


    He brought out a few vegetables from the kitchen: sweet potatoes, red onions, a dark-coloured root resembling a carrot, and a vegetable that looked like a purple aubergine. I examined these unfamiliar vegetables closely, having never seen them before in this world. Daneel, wasting no time, placed them among the embers.


    "These roasted vegetables will enhance the flavour of the meat. Also, buba fruit juice pairs beautifully with it. This juice has a slightly tangy yet sweet aroma, balancing the richness of the meat. Could you squeeze some buba fruit juice and fill a jug with it?" he asked.


    "Of course, I''d be happy to help. But I¡¯ve never heard of buba fruit before. I don¡¯t know how to extract its juice," I admitted.


    "Buba is a dark green fruit, about the size of two fists, filled with many small seeds inside," Daneel explained, pointing towards a woven basket under the counter. "You can press them with the stone juicer to extract the juice."


    I nodded in understanding and got to work. Taking the stone juicer in my hands, I peeled the fruit¡¯s outer skin, revealing bright yellow, jelly-like seeds inside. Though it slightly resembled a pomegranate, the texture of its seeds was entirely different. Pressing the fruit, I collected its juice in the clay jug I had placed below.


    Meanwhile, Daneel had returned to the fireplace, talking about splitting firewood. He looked quite tired after chopping wood all day. "You can set the floor table, Alek," he said, adding more wood to the fire. "I need to rest."


    I began setting the table, placing clay plates and cups in position. I put small, white flatbreads in the centre. However, I soon realised that cutlery was not used in this world. People either ate with wooden spoons or with their hands. The idea of abandoning basic table manners unsettled me.


    "Daneel," I said, "in my world, using a fork and knife is important. It helps us eat without dirtying our hands. I¡¯d like you to try it too. If possible, could you carve a wooden fork?"


    The old man pondered for a moment before quickly crafting a simple two-pronged fork. It was basic but functional. As he examined his creation, I noticed Arwa smiling.


    Once the meat was cooked, I arranged it in slices on flat clay plates. I placed the roasted vegetables in a separate dish and set them on the table. Finally, I poured the buba fruit juice into the clay cups.


    Daneel gently nudged Arwa to wake her up. "Arwa, wake up, the food is ready," he said. The elderly woman opened her eyes and settled herself by the fire. She was tired, but as she sat at the table, she looked around with a contented expression.


    Before we started eating, I demonstrated how to use the fork and knife to Daneel and Arwa. "This object in my hand is called a fork," I explained. "It helps us eat without making a mess. The knife is used to cut the meat neatly. Try it¡ªit won¡¯t take long to get used to."


    Arwa held the fork as I had shown her and began using it carefully. However, Daneel initially attempted to stab his food with it like a spear. When Arwa burst into laughter at his attempt, he looked slightly embarrassed but soon adjusted to using it properly.


    The meal was exquisite. But with every bite, a growing emptiness settled inside me. I thought of my family. When my eyes filled with tears, I couldn¡¯t stop them from falling.

 Chapter 11

    A heavy silence reigned inside the house, while the flames of the fireplace cast flickering shadows in the dim light of the room. Yet, despite the warmth of the fire, the coldness within me refused to fade. My tears streamed down my cheeks like beads, and the deep longing gnawed at my soul like a relentless vice. At that moment, Arwa¡¯s voice broke the silence, filled with the tenderness of a wise and caring old woman:


    ¡°Oh, my dear child, why are you crying? Don¡¯t cry, or you¡¯ll make me cry too. Just a moment ago, we were enjoying a delicious meal, and now, all of a sudden, tears are falling from your eyes. What has saddened you so deeply?¡±


    Her aged hands, trembling yet delicate, reached for my face. These hands had seen the hardships of life, had healed many patients, had brought countless babies into the world. And now, they touched me as if I were her own child. There was deep concern in her voice, an unmistakable motherly warmth.


    The words stuck in my throat. For a moment, I couldn¡¯t speak. But after taking a shaky breath, I finally managed to whisper:


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to explain it¡­ I just¡­ I miss my family. I miss home.¡±


    At that moment, my tears fell even faster. They poured down like a silent cry. As I sniffled, images of the home I had left behind filled my mind¡ªmy mother¡¯s warm smile, my father¡¯s wise gaze. Now, everything felt so distant, so cold, so lonely.


    My words pierced Arwa¡¯s heart like a dagger. Her old eyes welled with tears, and after taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms tightly around me. In that moment, she held me like a real mother¡ªprotecting, comforting, and sharing the pain in my heart.


    ¡°Oh, my dear child, know that you are not alone. If your mother and father were here, they would be so proud of you. They raised a diamond of a child. May the gods welcome them into their home. Tears do not always fall from sorrow; sometimes, they fall from longing. Cry, my child, let it all out¡ªI am here for you.¡±


    The old man, Daneel, had silently witnessed everything. Beneath his strong and stern demeanour lay a deep wisdom. With a solemn expression and slightly glistening eyes, he turned to me and spoke:


    ¡°If my father were here, he would say, ¡®A real man doesn¡¯t cry.¡¯ But I am not my father, son. Pain is a part of being human. Without pain, there would be no sacrifice. Without sacrifice, we wouldn¡¯t know love, nor would we understand the value of friendship. It is one of the greatest gifts the gods have given us. Could a person truly be human without pain?¡±


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    Daneel¡¯s words rooted themselves deep within my mind. Yet, the storm inside me refused to settle. A voice within me whispered, calling me to free myself from the burden of the past. That voice was Siri¡¯s¡ªmechanical, yet strangely familiar:


    ¡°Do you wish to be free of your pain? Shall I delete the memory files of the past? If you want them erased, confirm now.¡±


    I flinched at the sound of it. If I agreed, the weight I carried inside me would vanish in an instant. My past would dissolve into a mist, my family¡¯s faces, voices, and memories slipping away forever. Perhaps I would no longer feel pain, but what about my memories? What about the love they had left behind for me? I would never be able to recall them again¡­


    Was this really an option? As I lost myself in the thought, Daneel spoke again:


    ¡°Son, I lost my family thirty years ago. I still think of them every single day. My mind is not as sharp as it once was, and as I grow older, I fear forgetting things. But do you know what frightens me the most? Forgetting their faces. My family may be gone, but the memories I have with them will stay with me as long as I live. So, remember the good days you shared with your loved ones. And if it brings you comfort, you may see us as part of your family. Never forget¡ªwe are always here for you.¡±


    Daneel¡¯s words etched themselves into my mind. His tough exterior had now given way to the kindness and love he carried within. At that moment, I made my decision.


    ¡°Siri, no matter what happens, I will walk this path with my pain. I do not want you to erase my memories. Instead, show me my happiest moments with my family. Remember this¡ªone day, I will reunite with them, and when that day comes, you will record that memory too.¡±


    Within seconds, a slideshow of my life began to play in my mind. From infancy to this very day, the most beautiful moments unfolded before me. My family¡¯s laughter, my father¡¯s reassuring hand on my shoulder, my mother¡¯s warm embrace¡­ My eyes were still full of tears, but now, they carried a sense of peace.


    I hugged Arwa once more, my gaze filled with gratitude as I looked at her. She smiled, placing her hands on my shoulders, gently stroking them as if soothing a child.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say¡­ Thank you,¡± I murmured softly. In that moment, those were the only words that needed to be spoken.


    As the night slowly deepened, the flickering light of the fire filled the room with warmth. Yes, I was far from my family, but I was not alone. A new path lay ahead of me¡ªadventures waiting, lessons to learn, friends to meet¡­ But most importantly, I knew, without a doubt, that one day I would return to my family.


    And when that day came, I would tell them everything, share all that I had experienced. But for now, it was time to embrace this new life that awaited me.


    I looked into the flames of the fireplace once more, and with a newfound sense of peace, I closed my eyes.

 Chapter 12

    As the first light of dawn began to colour the night, we all woke up early. Daneel was the first to tend to the animals in the stable. I had noticed that he woke up several times during the night to check the weather. Fortunately, the sky was partly cloudy today. When he mentioned that he had some business to attend to in the city, he mounted his peculiar steed¡ªsomething between a horse and a zebra¡ªand rode off swiftly. Meanwhile, Arwa took me under her wing to begin my training as a healer¡¯s apprentice.


    Fixing her gaze on the forested mountains stretching beyond the adobe house, she spoke:


    "Tod


    I listened attentively, hoping her words would imprint themselves onto my memory. However, Arwa mentioned that we were missing some essential herbs. She described their appearance to me, explained their uses, and promised to


    She then turned to her daily tasks. She had to milk the spotted goats and make cheese. When I offered to help, she kindly declined, suggesting that I rest or spend some time outside instead. At that moment, the idea of exploring the forested mountain struck me. I wanted to gather some of the herbs Arwa had taught me about and surprise her.


    Before leaving the house, I grabbed one of the woven reed baskets and a clay jar. Then, I set off towards the mountain alone. Though it seemed close, I soon realised that the journey would take longer than I had anticipated. As I neared the forest, I was greeted by the chirping of birds, the gurgling of running water, and other sounds I could not quite identify.


    This was the Ancient Forest. It had existed long before people ever set foot here, and in some way, it continued to make its presence felt. The trees were so dense that sunlight barely penetrated the depths of the woods, casting an eerie shadow over everything. I felt both at peace and strangely uneasy.


    Placing my hand on the trunk of an ancient cedar tree, I called out to Siri in my mind:


    "Siri, check for any anomalies. Use whatever method you see fit."


    "More data is required to determine whether an anomaly is present. Due to insufficient data, no definitive conclusion can be made."


    Hearing Siri¡¯s familiar yet mechanical voice filled me with disappointment.


    "Let¡¯s keep gathering data. I have a feeling¡ªsomething about this forest is not as it seems," I said.


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    "There are no other voices detected within you aside from myself. Data collection is ongoing. You will be notified once the process is complete."


    I ventured deeper into the Ancient Forest.


    "Siri, create a new file for the medicinal herbs Arwa described. Use my memories to identify and mark any you can recognise. I want you to project them visually into my mind."


    "Task initiated. Completion will take some time. Please wait."


    Within a few minutes, I felt a shift in my perception. As I walked through the forest, the herbs Arwa had described appeared before my eyes, outlined in a faint blue light. I opened my basket and began collecting marjoram, tarragon, sumac, coriander, rosemary, pennyroyal, thyme, basil, and sage. None of them were particularly rare, but they were not exactly easy to find either.


    Just as I was about to head back home, I noticed a cluster of faint blue lights, highlighted by Siri. Approaching them, I was taken aback¡ªbefore me stood beefsteak mushrooms. They resembled a large tongue, with a reddish-brown surface. When cut, they oozed a deep red liquid, almost like blood. Arwa had told me these mushrooms were beneficial for heart and respiratory ailments and even mental disorders. I carefully sliced them with my knife, ensuring that the tree would be able to produce more in the future.


    My baskets were now full, and I set off towards home. Thrilled by the newfound abilities I had discovered in Siri, I said,


    "Siri, play ''Never Gonna Give You Up'' by Rick Astley."


    Immediately, the song began playing in my mind. I walked towards home, dancing with my baskets.


    But then, Siri¡¯s voice suddenly interrupted the music:


    "Anomalies detected. Small wisps of mist are appearing and disappearing around the coniferous trees. Additionally, since you began gathering mushrooms, a non-human shadow has been following you."


    A shiver ran down my spine.


    "Siri, show me the image of whatever is following me," I whispered.


    In my mind¡¯s eye, a figure materialised¡ªabout 1.80 metres tall, humanoid but unmistakably not human. Its head was shaped like a person¡¯s, yet its proportions were slightly off. This unknown entity was beginning to unnerve me.


    "Is it still behind me?" I asked, my voice trembling.


    "Yes, it is still following you," Siri responded, its tone devoid of emotion.


    I did not dare look back. So far, it had not harmed me, but I had no way of knowing what it intended to do. I kept dancing, trying not to appear suspicious.


    "Siri, play ''Forever Young'' by Alphaville. Sing along with me. Today, we shall conquer our fear," I said.


    The song echoed in my mind, and Siri joined me in singing. I continued dancing to bolster my courage. But I could feel it¡ªit was getting closer. The game was over. Now, I had only one choice¡ªto run.


    I bolted.


    As soon as I emerged from the forest, the shadowy figure came to an abrupt stop. It was no longer following me.


    I was too afraid to look back. But summoning every ounce of courage, I slowly turned around¡­

 Chapter 13

    My eyes were drawn to an unfamiliar creature at the edge of the vast cedar forest. For the first time, I was facing a humanoid being that was not human, and my body froze in fear. In that moment, I realised that the oldest laws of nature were at play here, and that this place was very different from the world I knew.


    The creature standing before me resembled a human but also seemed like an extension of nature. Its height was that of a man, perhaps a little taller. Its skin colour was an unusual tone, ranging from pale green to grey, and in some places, veins resembling branches were visible, as if roots were spreading inside its body. Its feet were strong and solid, resembling the hooves of a goat, with flat soles. Its face, however, was extraordinarily square, as if it were a geometric design of nature itself.


    But what was most unsettling were its eyes. They were entirely white, without pupils or irises... It was as if I were looking into a deep void, and I felt my soul being drawn in. For a brief moment, when our eyes met, I felt as though it was looking into my mind, as if it knew everything hidden within me. And its lips... if they could even be called lips... They seemed as though they had once been stitched up, but those stitches had been clumsily removed, leaving scars behind.


    It neither fled nor attacked. It showed no hostile stance nor any friendly expression. It was neutral. Just like the trees in the forest, like the wind eroding the rocks, like the constant flow of time... Its reaction would be determined by my actions.


    "Siri," I whispered. "Do you have any information on this creature?"


    Siri''s mechanical voice echoed in my mind. "Memory scan in progress... No information found on this entity in the records. Would you like me to create a new file and store the data?"


    "Yes," I said. "Save it. Store everything about this creature."


    I continued to gaze at it. It felt like a duel between us. The first one to look away would lose. But the creature was patient, it didn¡¯t know what tiredness was. As minutes passed, a black bird suddenly landed on its shoulder. Its feathers were as black as coal, and it leaned towards the creature''s ear, chirping sharply, as if whispering something. It was as though it had brought a message.


    Suddenly, the creature''s face changed. Disgust and anger became apparent. It seemed to lose interest in me, giving me one last glance before turning away and disappearing into the depths of the forest.


    I didn¡¯t realise I was in shock until I started trembling. I gripped the baskets tightly in my hands. As I ran, I noticed that I had dropped some plants, but I neither had the courage nor the time to go back and collect them. My frail body couldn¡¯t bear such an effort, but my only goal at that moment was to get home and reach safety.


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    As I walked along the path, my thoughts began to gnaw at my mind. Why had the creature followed me? What had the black bird told it to make it suddenly change direction? And most importantly, who was this creature?


    But I was overlooking something. While walking through the forest, I noticed that faint, almost invisible little mists were forming and disappearing around each of the cedar trees. But now, I realised it.


    "Siri, can you show me the mist around the trees?" I asked.


    "Images being processed... Complete. Displaying."


    I closed my eyes and examined the images that appeared in my mind. Around every tree were thin, almost imperceptible clusters of mist. Their sizes varied, with some as tiny as the tip of a needle, while others were comparable in size to my thumb. The most interesting thing was that these mists moved in a certain pattern. They didn¡¯t seem chaotic; on the contrary, they appeared to be trying to convey something with specific designs.


    "Siri, is there a pattern among these mists? Can you make a comparison?"


    "Comparison in progress... Patterns detected. The patterns do not all match, but there is a certain frequency of repetition. The most frequently repeated patterns form spirals."


    A fractal pattern. A hidden language within chaos.


    "Siri, why do these mists only appear around the trees? Are the trees producing them?"


    "Current data is insufficient. However, possibilities are being evaluated. Hypothesis: The trees may be using the mists for communication."


    A chill ran down my spine. What if this was true? Were the trees communicating with each other in a language we didn¡¯t understand? This forest was much older than us humans. Perhaps it had its own memory, its own history, its own secrets.


    Could I decipher this language? And if I could¡­ would the things the trees had to tell me regretfully change my perspective?


    I closed my eyes and examined the images that appeared in my mind. Around every tree were thin, almost imperceptible clusters of mist. Their sizes varied, with some as tiny as the tip of a needle, while others were comparable in size to my thumb. The most interesting thing was that these mists moved in a certain pattern. They didn¡¯t seem chaotic; on the contrary, they appeared to be trying to convey something with specific designs.


    "Siri, is there a pattern among these mists? Can you make a comparison?"


    "Comparison in progress... Patterns detected. The patterns do not all match, but there is a certain frequency of repetition. The most frequently repeated patterns form spirals."


    A fractal pattern. A hidden language within chaos.


    "Siri, why do these mists only appear around the trees? Are the trees producing them?"


    "Current data is insufficient. However, possibilities are being evaluated. Hypothesis: The trees may be using the mists for communication."


    A chill ran down my spine. What if this was true? Were the trees communicating with each other in a language we didn¡¯t understand? This forest was much older than us humans. Perhaps it had its own memory, its own history, its own secrets.


    Could I decipher this language? And if I could¡­ would the things the trees had to tell me regretfully change my perspective?

 Chapter 14

    As I made my way from the depths of the forest towards home, the fatigue in my body grew heavier, my sickly condition making the journey even more difficult. Yet, my mind was drifting towards different thoughts to escape this agony. My thoughts were overflowing with the creature''s presence and the mystery of the mist that appeared around the cedar trees. These three elements¡ª the creature, the trees, and the mist¡ª which seemed independent of each other, appeared to be linked by an invisible thread. If I could learn more about one of them, the others would naturally fall into place. It was like the complementary pieces of a puzzle, and when I found the right key, I was certain it would open the door to the truth.


    "Siri, when the creature moved into the depths of the forest, did the mist around the trees change? If it did, can you compare the new mist with the previously recorded mist?" I asked, unable to hide the excitement rising within me.


    "Accessing memory... Comparison in progress... Some matches found. Displaying." Siri''s cold yet reassuring voice echoed in my mind.


    In an instant, I could see how the mist had changed as the creature left the forest. They were different from the previous mists; yet, there was a strange order and harmony within them. It was as though the trees were responding collectively to this change. Compared to the earlier ones, there were clear differences in colour and pattern; some were darker, while others were faintly trembling in form. These unknowns were prompting even greater questions with every step I took.


    "Siri, compare the recorded mists in terms of colour, shape, size, and pattern. Especially examine the mists that appeared when the creature received news from the black bird and highlight the differences." I instructed.


    "Comparison initiated. This process will take some time. You will be notified once it is completed." Siri¡¯s voice resonated, and I began to lose myself in the possibilities that were emerging in my mind.


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    Were the trees and the creature communicating with each other? If so, why hadn''t the creature formed a connection with the trees after receiving the news from the black bird? Or perhaps the creature, seeing itself as the master of the forest, had an instinctual bond with the trees? Maybe these cedar trees were under its protection. If the black bird was bold enough to deliver news to it, then the creature must have been a natural part of the forest''s order. But what exactly had the creature heard? What had frightened or angered it so suddenly? More importantly, if the trees were allies of the creature, why had the mist changed when it decided to leave? Were the trees sending it a message?


    As I lost myself in these questions, Siri''s voice echoed in my mind once again: "Significant changes in the mist detected. Processed results are being displayed."


    I immediately focused my attention. The images that appeared in my mind showed how the mist around the trees had changed. The mist was now denser, and each seemed to change in a specific rhythm, almost as though responding. Was this response from the trees connected to the creature''s emotions?


    "Siri, save these mists as a separate file. Name the file ''Cedar Language.'' Transfer the gathered information to this file. Save the mists that appeared during the creature''s reaction to the black bird''s news as ''hatred and disgust.''" I instructed.


    "Your wish is my command." Siri¡¯s cold but reassuring voice echoed.


    I had no idea where these new discoveries would lead. But one thing was certain: If there was truly a language between the trees, I had a great opportunity to learn it. However, perhaps what I learned would bring regret. If the trees were speaking, who knew if what they said was suitable for human ears? What if I uncovered a secret I wasn¡¯t meant to know? What if the things this language would teach me led me into even greater dangers? As my thoughts got lost in these uncertainties, I realised I was getting closer to home. This forest still had many more lessons to teach me. But the real question was: Was I ready for it?

 Chapter 15

    No matter how much I feared it, I knew I had to return to the forest. I wanted to learn the language of the trees; they were ancient beings that experienced time in a way far different from what I knew, quietly whispering the past and the future. I wondered what they spoke of among themselves. Cedar trees were long-lived beings, capable of living for a thousand years, having witnessed countless storms, disasters, and changes. They may have seen many things I didn¡¯t know about during the course of their lives. I hoped to learn their language and take even a small piece from the depths of their wisdom.


    My journey back home passed smoothly under the cool breath of the night sky. The wind softly rustled through the leaves, singing gentle songs to me. I occasionally stopped to look behind me on the path, suspicious that something might be moving in the shadows of the forest. However, each time, I thought I might be mistaken and continued on my way.


    When I reached the front of my door, Arwa was waiting for me outside. The traces of worry and curiosity were visible on her face.


    ¡°Kid, come here and look at this,¡± she said, her voice warm but trembling.


    I obeyed and went to her. She looked me over from head to toe, then sighed deeply.


    "Have you lost your mind? Those baskets in your hands... They come from the Cursed Forest, don¡¯t they? Oh, I should have told you how that cursed forest brings nothing but misfortune!" Arwa''s voice now held a slight tremor, filled with a motherly worry, mixed with anger and fear. "I remember the stories the villagers told when I was a child. They said that anyone who set foot in that forest either never returned or, if they did, came out as someone completely different. Oh, my kid, even though it''s a blessing from the Gods that you came back safely, never go there again! There is nothing but death in that place! I was so worried about where you were. My heart almost stopped. Don¡¯t disappear without warning again!¡± she said, her voice breaking with emotion.


    I hugged her tightly without dropping my baskets. It felt strange to see her so frightened, but at the same time, a strange warmth filled me. Having someone care for me so deeply... It was an unfamiliar but comforting feeling.


    "I''m sorry for worrying you, Arwa," I said sincerely. "But I don''t think the forest is as dangerous as you believe. I''ll go back there, and this matter is closed! Look, I''ve gathered all sorts of things in these baskets. Some of them, even you don¡¯t have in your stock! I¡¯m giving all of this to you. You deserve better, but this is all I can do for now. Also, I admit the forest is mysterious, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s evil. After all, it brought me back safely, didn¡¯t it?"


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    The old woman nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. She then looked at the baskets and began inspecting their contents one by one. Her eyes grew wide, and her astonishment was evident.


    "Are all of these for me? Kid, you''ve gone to great lengths! I''m an old woman; I have no need for so much. I can¡¯t accept all of this," she said, though her eyes were still fixated on the items inside the baskets.


    Seeing the look in Arwa''s eyes, I smiled. "Siri, can you take a picture of Arwa? I want to immortalize this moment."


    "Recording transferred to memory photo gallery... Transfer complete," Siri¡¯s mechanical voice responded.


    Arwa, still in shock, exclaimed, ¡°My Gods, what have you gathered! These plants are so rare! Marjoram, tarragon, sumac, caraway, rosemary, hyssop, thyme, basil, sage¡­ And this¡­ birch mushrooms! Kid, I must say, fortune is on your side. I saw marjoram when I was a child, but I never thought I would see it again. This is ¡®pure happiness.¡¯ Whoever consumes it will relive their happiest moments! Are you really willing to give all of this to me?¡± Her excitement was evident in her eyes.


    I couldn¡¯t help but be swept up in her joy. I nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, Arwa! I want to give these to you as a thank you for your hospitality."


    Arwa took a deep breath and held my hands. "Kid, you have a heart of gold. Thank you for your gifts."


    "It¡¯s nothing, Arwa. But I¡¯m curious about what you¡¯ve been up to today. Are you going to teach me a lesson?" I asked.


    The woman paused for a moment, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Ah, Alek, it completely slipped my mind! Please don¡¯t misunderstand, I forgot because of my old age. Today, I was supposed to milk the goats for cheese, but those stubborn animals got the best of me! Speaking of their owner, I¡¯ve never seen a man so careless in my life! He¡¯s off to the city again, probably drinking. Anyway, I don¡¯t want to bore you with these tales. Soon, I¡¯ll be going to the village to check on the sick. You know a bit about healing herbs, but there¡¯s still much more for you to learn. You should know how to diagnose patients too. If you want to join me, come to the village with me. I¡¯ll teach you everything you need to know."


    For a moment, she hesitated, then her eyes gleamed mischievously. "Also, there¡¯s a girl in the village about your age. If you¡¯re interested in marriage, I can help you out. What do you say?" she said with a sly grin.


    My eyes widened. "Marriage? No, thank you! I¡¯m still young. I¡¯m fourteen; I think it¡¯s too early for that! But I would love to come to the village. I¡¯ve been feeling a bit bored lately. That¡¯s actually why I went to the forest. I have a lot to learn as an apprentice healer. Going with you would be a great opportunity for me!" I said excitedly.


    Arwa smiled and nodded. "Well then, let¡¯s not waste time. The road is long, and there¡¯s a lot for you to learn, kid."

 Chapter 16

    Together with Arwa, we set off towards the house of the sick. The path seemed to stretch endlessly before us, and the earthy trail lay ahead like an ancient river leading us into the unknown. We walked, chatting with Arwa, and felt the soft texture of the earth under our feet.


    "Young man," said Arwa, her eyes shining with deep concern, "do you remember the stories told to you when you were young? I don''t want you to go to that cursed place known as the Forest of the Gods. When I was a child, my elders used to tell terrifying stories about it. These were the kind of stories no child should hear. They say there¡¯s a monster in the forest. Once you see it, you¡¯ll never return. It drags those who enter into the deepest darkness and hunts them before the sun sets. I¡¯m telling you again, my dear, never go there."


    Arwa¡¯s voice trembled with the experience and fear of years. I pursed my lips and responded.


    "Well, they''re just stories," I said. "Perhaps these are just little white lies told to keep us away from the forest. Besides, did you ever see the monster with your own eyes?"


    Arwa sighed, tilting her head slightly. "Ah Alek, sometimes I don¡¯t know what to say to you. Even though I want to yell and scold you, I can¡¯t. I don¡¯t want anything bad to happen to you," she said, her tone both irritable and filled with affection.


    Lying to her gnawed at me. The truth was, I had seen something in the forest. But still, I was determined to go back.


    "Arwa, I understand your concern. I¡¯ll be careful," I tried to reassure her.


    "Young man, being careful isn¡¯t enough! Daneel is an old soldier. When he returns from the city, he can teach you how to fight. You¡¯re still young; you need to learn how to protect yourself. And don¡¯t forget, one day you¡¯ll have to protect your wife too," she said, her tone more like a piece of advice, but at the same time, serious.


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    Arwa¡¯s words made sense. If I was going into the forest, I had to learn to defend myself. If I wanted to understand the language of the cedar trees and what the monster truly was, I needed to be stronger.


    "Ah! You¡¯re right, I want to learn to protect myself. But I¡¯m not ready for marriage just yet!" I said with a slight smile. My words made the old woman smile too, even turning into a short laugh.


    "Alright, dear, when Daneel returns from the city, I¡¯ll bring it up with him. He¡¯d be glad to teach you," she said.


    "Thank you for your help, Arwa," I said sincerely.


    She waved her hand. "No need for all this formality. You¡¯re like family! But... you¡¯ve also made my hand hurt, would you carry the basket for me?" she said, giggling.


    I smiled and took the basket. "I spent some time with Daneel," I said innocently.


    "It shows. You¡¯re just like him! You need to learn how to treat a woman!" she said, laughing heartily.


    To close the subject, I just nodded. Along the way, I admired the nature surrounding us. The trees and the stream, the chirping of the birds, the whisper of the wind¡­ all of these gave me a sense of peace. As we continued, we entered an area where the bushes were more plentiful and the trees fewer. The atmosphere was becoming livelier; the sounds of birds, insects, and distant voices replaced the silence with a lively vibe.


    Finally, we reached a building resembling an old, shabby farmhouse. Arwa paused for a moment, and a look of displeasure appeared in her eyes.


    "My dear, we won¡¯t linger at the house we¡¯re going to. I don¡¯t like the hosts, especially the man of the house. Even breathing the same air as him irritates me. But I wouldn¡¯t have come here if I didn¡¯t pity the poor little girl. Fortunately, her father has gone to pasture the sheep. Let¡¯s quickly finish our business before that cursed man returns," she said.


    "Alright, Arwa," I nodded in response.


    We passed through the garden surrounded by stone walls. We reached the front of the house and carefully opened the old wooden door to step inside.

 Chapter 17

    As soon as I stepped into the farmhouse, the intense smell of manure filled my nose. The heavy scent, a blend of earth, animals, and time itself, seemed like a silent echo telling the story of this place¡¯s thousands of years of history. I held my breath as I felt the weight of the odor, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t escape the thick air. Arwa noticed the discomfort on my face, but she continued walking without saying a word. For her, this smell was just an ordinary part of time; it must have been the same for everyone living here.


    As we slowly moved forward, my eyes caught a child working in the corner of the barn. He was about eight or nine years old. His small hands were busy cleaning the straw and filth from the rough stone floor. It was more appropriate to call this a living space than a barn. It was a shelter for tired animals, a place where foggy breaths rose in the mornings and worn-out feet dragged across in the evenings. But for me, it felt like a foreign land; farm life seemed like a distant, ancient world from the stories.


    The child was dressed in ragged clothes, his face covered in dirt. His pale skin clearly indicated he wasn¡¯t well-fed; his cheeks were hollow, and his eyes carried an unusual weariness for his age. He had become part of the misery. It was obvious he had been like this for a long time; a child accustomed to hopelessness, carrying the burden of life on his shoulders.


    A deep sadness filled me. Child labor was an ordinary thing in this world. Life here was harsh and merciless; children had to leave their childhoods behind in order to survive. When Arwa noticed my sorrow, a look of slight surprise crossed her face. For her, this was a normal sight, but for me, it was still shocking. Perhaps that¡¯s why she was surprised; I wasn¡¯t yet fully accustomed to the realities of this world.


    Here, poverty was as inevitable as the cold winds that pierced the night. Except for a few privileged ones, everyone shared the same fate. Even my memory loss couldn¡¯t explain the reaction inside me. But now wasn¡¯t the time to think about these things. We had come here for a sick person; we couldn¡¯t keep them waiting any longer.


    Arwa called out to the child in a soft yet firm voice:


    "My child, where is your mother? We¡¯ve come a long way to help your sister."


    The child paused for a moment in confusion, then his eyes lit up and, with excitement, he stuttered:


    "R-really? Hm hm, I¡¯ll be right back. I¡¯ll go find my mom!"


    There was both hope and astonishment in his voice. Without waiting for a reply, he dashed toward the house. As his small feet echoed on the stone floor, I realized for a moment that he was still a child, still carrying within him an innocent excitement, beyond everything else.


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    I looked around. There wasn¡¯t much to examine in the farmhouse. Worn stone walls, a wooden roof weathered by time, and a heavy door bearing the weight of years¡­ I just wanted to get this over with and leave. I didn¡¯t want to stay any longer in the midst of this poverty. To ease my discomfort, I directed my thoughts toward a distant, familiar place¡ªthe forest.


    Why was the forest so important? Why didn¡¯t the trees outside this place emit those strange spiral mists? In the stories Arwa had told, it was called the Forest of the Gods. Could it really be a place where gods ruled? This thought didn¡¯t make sense to me. If gods truly existed, why would they choose to live here, in this darkness and uncertainty? Why hadn¡¯t they built themselves grand palaces? Or was the Forest of the Gods just a legend? Maybe that name had an older meaning, hiding a secret long forgotten over the ages.


    No matter how much I thought, I couldn¡¯t find the answer. But there was a strange feeling inside me; as if the answers to these questions would reveal themselves to me when the time was right.


    "Alek¡­ Alek, are you alright?"


    Arwa¡¯s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She had her hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me.


    "I¡¯m fine, Arwa. Why are you shaking me?" I asked, a little confused.


    The woman looked at me with a slight smile.


    "My child, you¡¯ve spaced out. No matter how much I called, you didn¡¯t hear me. Or were you thinking about the girl I mentioned earlier?" she teased.


    I frowned. "Arwa, how many times do I need to tell you that I¡¯m not ready for marriage? Also, I was thinking about something else," I said.


    She didn¡¯t seem to believe what I said.


    At that moment, a woman descended the stone stairs of the house with heavy steps. She looked to be about 35-40 years old, stocky, and strong. She wore a brown flower-patterned apron, a white tunic, and a tightly tied scarf around her head. The harsh lines on her face betrayed the weariness time had added to her.


    "Welcome, Arwa Ana. May the gods always keep your cup full. You¡¯ve traveled a long way. You must be thirsty and tired. Our house is old and worn, but it will keep you warm and shield you from the rain. Come inside."


    The woman¡¯s voice was hoarse and commanding. Arwa, showing her clear dislike of the woman, nodded slightly as a greeting but didn¡¯t say much. She turned to me and softly warned:


    "My child, be careful when you go up the stairs. They¡¯re slippery, and I don¡¯t want you to hurt yourself."


    Just as I was trying to fully understand her words, my foot slipped. In an instant, I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs. Everything around me seemed to spin.


    The basket I was holding flew through the air, and its contents scattered everywhere. When I hit the muddy ground, a cold, sticky wetness enveloped me. My hair, my clothes, everything was covered in mud. I felt like I couldn¡¯t escape my bad luck.


    Arwa quickly rushed to my side, a concerned expression on her face.


    "Oh, my dear, are you alright? Didn¡¯t I tell you to be careful on the stairs? Anyway, put your hand on my shoulder, and I¡¯ll help you up."


    Arwa¡¯s strong arms lifted me out of the mud. The coldness from my heavy, damp clothes seeped into me. At that moment, I realized how long and muddy the journey here had been, and how it had only just begun.

 Chapter 18

    The woman who owned the house was watching me with pursed lips. The skinny boy next to her was laughing at my situation. Deep down, I regretted feeling sorry for this little monster, and at the same time, I was angry. I was completely stuck in the mud. Arwa came to me as quickly as she could.


    ¡°Oh, my child, are you alright? Didn¡¯t I tell you to be careful when climbing the stairs? Anyway, child, put your hand on my shoulder, I¡¯ll try to lift you up.¡± said the woman anxiously. She placed my hand on Arwa''s shoulder and helped me out of the mud. Arwa, embarrassed, spoke to the woman who owned the house.


    ¡°Ruseppa, my apprentice got stuck in the mud, it¡¯s cold outside, so he can clean himself by the water. Can he clean himself in your house?¡± The old woman did not like the woman in front of her at all, but she had to ask for help. After hearing what she said, Ruseppa, the woman, did not appreciate the offer, and her face grew even more stern. As Arwa was about to say something to the woman, she spoke before Arwa could.


    ¡°Mother Arwa, you should teach your apprentice how to walk. I have so much to do. Thanks to your apprentice, you''ve added a new task to my list. Anyway, you''ve come a long way in trying to heal my daughter. Mother Arwa, let¡¯s take care of my sick daughter. My daughter can help him clean himself,¡± said the know-it-all woman. She hit the small child next to her on the head to stop the child from laughing. The woman started shouting from inside.


    ¡°Walma, you little lazy rat, get out here right now. Come to me at once.¡± It was clear that the woman did not feel much love for her daughter and was taking out all her anger on her.


    A girl with a thin nose, prominent cheekbones, black wavy hair, and blue eyes, about 21-22 years old, came out of the door. Her clothes were worn, but they were clean and looked good on her. She was dazzling in her brown pleated skirt, white shirt, and apron with red flowers embroidered on it. In my old world, I was sure she would have been a famous actress.


    ¡°My daughter, I¡¯ve been shouting at you for hours. Why didn¡¯t you come when I called?¡± said the woman, half-angry.


    ¡°I had dishes to wash, and I was washing them. Should I have come with my hands full of foam?¡± said the young girl rudely.


    ¡°When I call you, no matter what you¡¯re doing, you will stop and come to me. Do you understand, young lady? You are 21 years old and still single. If you keep acting thoughtlessly like this, you will be beaten by your husband in the future. Of course, if anyone takes you,¡± said the woman, sneering.


    ¡°You, who cling to my father like a leech, have no right to speak to me like that,¡± said the young girl. When the woman heard Walma¡¯s words, she tried to clench her fist in anger, but her sick daughter needed to get better soon. She would make Walma pay for her rudeness later.


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    ¡°Welcome, Mother Arwa, I suppose you¡¯ve come to look after my sister, haven¡¯t you?¡± said the young girl.


    ¡°Yes, my child, we¡¯ve come to look after your sister,¡± said Arwa gently. After listening to Arwa''s words, the young girl turned to her mother.


    ¡°Why did you call me? I have housework to do. If you had helped, my workload would have been lighter. How much more work are you going to pile on me? Knowing you, you¡¯ll just order me to do something, won¡¯t you?¡± said the young girl.


    ¡°Oh, lazy girl, when I was your age, I would have already finished the work and helped my mother. Anyway, Arwa, do you see the child covered in mud behind you? Help him clean himself with the hot water you took from the fire. Give him some of your father¡¯s old clothes to wear. I¡¯m going to go take care of my daughter with Arwa.¡± said the middle-aged woman. After hearing this, the young girl grumbled and told me to follow her.


    ¡°Alek, my child, this girl I told you about earlier will help you clean up, go with her. I will take care of the sick one,¡± said the old woman. I was a bit surprised when I heard the old woman¡¯s words. Was this the girl she had wanted me to marry? I was starting to think Arwa was slowly losing her mind. The person who had proposed marriage to me was nearly 7 years older than me. Physically, I might be 14 years old, but mentally, I was older. I began following Walma, the thoughtful and mud-covered young girl. I started to feel cold from being covered in mud, but fortunately, the inside of the house was warmer than I expected.


    ¡°Follow me, child, you¡¯re a pain. I have so much work to do tonight,¡± said the young girl, grumbling.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know I would get stuck in the mud like this. Believe me, I didn¡¯t want to be in this situation. Also, we didn¡¯t even get a chance to properly introduce ourselves. My name is Alek, what¡¯s your name?¡± I asked as we entered a small storage room.


    ¡°My name is none of your concern. I¡¯m going to get hot water and a basin. When I return, take off your clothes. Put your dirty clothes in that corner. Don¡¯t bother,¡± said the young girl. I had no choice but to do what Walma said. As she left the room, she looked at me.


    ¡°They call me Walma,¡± she said mischievously and left the room.


    I was waiting for her, and I had taken off all my clothes except for my underwear. At the same time, I was cursing the unpleasant situation I was in. After a while, Walma came back into the room. She brought clean, patched clothes, a basin, a bag, and a jug filled with hot water. She placed the basin on the floor and implied that I should get in.


    ¡°Do you see the stool behind you? Put it in the sink and sit on it,¡± said the young girl. I did exactly what she said.


    ¡°Also, you wouldn¡¯t want your underwear to get wet, would you? Take off your underwear and sit on the stool,¡± she said. I felt embarrassed when I heard what she said. I could feel my cheeks burning.


    ¡°Thank you for your help, you can go now. I can take care of the rest myself,¡± I said. She found what I said ridiculous. She didn¡¯t even move from her place.


    ¡°There¡¯s no need for you to be embarrassed, and to me, you¡¯re no different from a child. I don¡¯t want to waste my time with you. Take off your clothes now,¡± said Walma, slightly irritated.

 Chapter 19

    I couldn''t believe what I was hearing. Was there no such thing as privacy in this world anymore? A wave of hot anger rose within me. My expression made it clear that I did not approve of his behaviour, and I shook my head firmly.


    "Are you out of your mind? Get out!" I shouted, my voice trembling.


    The expression on Walma''s face changed. He raised his eyebrows and smirked slightly before suddenly stepping closer. His blue eyes, faintly glowing under the moonlight, held a subtle challenge.


    "I helped my little dwarf brothers with the laundry," he murmured. "If you don¡¯t take off your clothes, I¡¯ll do it for you. And don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t look while you bathe." His grin widened.


    His words might have sounded like an innocent joke, but his actions were something else entirely. He had already rolled up his sleeves and started touching my undergarments. After the respect Arwa and Daneel had shown me, a stranger behaving so recklessly made my stomach turn. The discomfort rising within me became unbearable.


    Even as I tried to push him away, he seemed to understand exactly what I was trying to do.


    "You little rascal," he teased. "How can I help you if you won¡¯t stand still?"


    "Stay away from me! I used to wash myself just fine, and I can still do it. Go to your mother, who loves you so much!" I snapped, unable to keep the anger out of my voice.


    For some reason, those words cast a dark shadow over Walma¡¯s face. His eyes drifted for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, he did something I never saw coming¡ªhe slapped me hard across the cheek.


    I was so shocked that I instinctively placed my hand on my reddening cheek and stared at him. The slap hadn¡¯t hurt much, but its unexpectedness had stunned me.


    "The woman you saw outside isn¡¯t my mother; she¡¯s my stepmother," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "Her eyes were always on my father. After my mother died years ago, she latched onto him like a leech and never let go."


    My anger halted in an instant. I wasn¡¯t sure if I should feel ashamed for my embarrassing situation or sorry for Walma¡¯s painful past. But somehow, something inside me told me that I should offer him some comfort.


    "I¡¯m sorry," I said, my voice softer now. "I¡¯m sorry for your loss. I didn¡¯t know she was your stepmother. I didn¡¯t mean to hurt you."


    Walma gave a slight nod and then sighed. "Uh¡­ whatever. If you want to undress yourself, do as you please. At least it saves me the extra work. And I promise I won¡¯t look at your private parts." He rolled his eyes slightly.


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    Carefully, I removed my undergarments and placed them in the corner, covering my private areas with my hands as I sat on the stool. For the first time in my life, I was about to be washed by someone other than my mother. Even the thought of it made me uncomfortable. Why was this crazy girl so stubborn? I could wash myself just fine!


    Walma picked up the sackcloth and started scrubbing my back. She was rubbing it so hard that I thought she would strip my skin off. She lifted my arms and scrubbed my armpits with the same force. I could no longer cover my private areas properly with both hands¡ªsome parts were now exposed. Walma hadn¡¯t kept her promise. She was looking where she shouldn¡¯t.


    When our eyes met, I shot her a sharp glare, making it clear that her behaviour was inappropriate. But she remained unfazed. Shame was something she seemed entirely unfamiliar with.


    "God knows how long it''s been since you last bathed. I want you to stand still, you filthy little thing. I¡¯m going to scrub every inch of your body," she said smugly.


    "I can bathe whenever I want! I don¡¯t need you to teach me personal hygiene!" I retorted angrily.


    She slapped the same cheek she had hit before. Then she slapped the other one. Now, it was really starting to hurt. So Walma wasn¡¯t someone you wanted to make angry.


    "Ahh! Why do you keep slapping me?!" I shouted, but before I could even finish my sentence, she landed a third slap.


    "I like slapping you. Your cheeks look so good when they¡¯re red," she said mockingly.


    I didn¡¯t want to raise my hand against a woman. As a gentleman, such a thing would be beneath me. The best thing to do was to accept this crazy girl as she was and wait for this ordeal to be over. My entire body was covered in soap, and now I needed to be rinsed with warm water. I stood up from the stool.


    With a mischievous smile, Walma said, "Little boy, it¡¯s time for a hot bath."


    I was now certain that Walma had completely lost her mind. Fortunately, the water wasn¡¯t too hot, or she would have scalded me. She started washing my whole body. Finally, it was time for my private areas. No matter how tightly I covered them with my hands, she kept slapping them away, insisting that I move them.


    I didn¡¯t want to lose my patience and get another slap, so I eventually gave in and removed my hands.


    In truth, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. I had only been making things unnecessarily difficult for myself. She washed my entire body thoroughly.


    "Wait here. I¡¯ll fetch a towel," she said and hurried out of the room.


    Being washed by someone else¡ªespecially a beautiful woman¡ªwasn¡¯t such a bad experience after all. In fact, in a way, it was quite pleasant.


    Lost in my thoughts, I didn¡¯t even notice when Walma returned. She had a woollen towel in her hands. She knelt down and began drying me off.


    "There¡¯s no trace left of your messy self. You¡¯re now a clean and, dare I say, quite a cute little boy," she said with a satisfied expression.


    "I¡¯ll be an adult in a week. I¡¯m not cute¡ªI have a manly handsomeness," I declared.


    At these words, Walma suddenly burst into laughter. For some reason, I liked seeing her laugh. In that moment, I got lost in her eyes.


    She noticed it too.


    With a strange surge of courage, I leaned in and kissed her on the lips.


    I liked kissing her.


    So I kissed her again.


    My action must have caught her off guard because she froze for a moment. Her cheeks, and even her ears, turned bright red. Without saying a word, she quickly fled the room.


    Now, it was my turn to laugh. So I did.

 Chapter 20

    Had my behaviour towards Walma been inappropriate? When I saw her, I would have to apologise for my actions. I dried myself thoroughly with a towel and put on the clean clothes that had been given to me. Left alone in the room, I realised I would have to search for Arwa myself, as I had no idea which room she was in.


    Despite being a countryside house, the dwelling was quite large, though its adobe structure meant it was in need of renovation. In winter, an adobe house would bring many problems. Regardless, as I walked down the corridor, I felt the warmth emanating from a room, leading me to believe it was where the sick girl was being cared for.


    At last, I found Arwa. The room was tidy, with only a few furnishings. My eyes instinctively searched for Walma, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Arwa was there, alongside Ruseppa¡ªWalma¡¯s stepmother¡ªand a young girl who was clearly unwell, lying in bed.


    ¡°Alek, are you well, child? Do you feel alright?¡± she asked, sitting on the stool beside the little girl.


    ¡°Thank you, Arwa, I feel perfectly fine,¡± I replied.


    Ruseppa, who sat by the sick girl, cast me a meaningful look, making it clear that she was not pleased with my presence.


    ¡°The clothes you¡¯re wearing belong to my husband. Don¡¯t think they¡¯re yours. I¡¯ve lent them to you out of goodwill. Once you¡¯re done with them, return them to Walma. By the way, where is that girl? Her sister, our poor sick princess, is nowhere to be seen. That girl always has her head in the clouds. Honestly, she¡¯ll be the death of me,¡± the woman muttered irritably.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where Walma is. Also, madam, I appreciate you lending me your husband¡¯s clothes. I will never forget your generosity,¡± I said.


    The woman looked momentarily surprised before pursing her lips.


    ¡°My generosity is well known, child. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll never forget it,¡± she remarked sarcastically.


    Arwa, seemingly incredulous at the woman¡¯s words, let out a deliberate cough.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling well, child. Now, let¡¯s check on our little patient,¡± she said.


    I walked over to her as she placed her hands on the young girl¡¯s forehead, gauging her fever. The child slept peacefully¡ªor at least, I hoped she did.


    ¡°As you can see, child, her condition is quite serious¡ªher fever is dangerously high. I¡¯ve placed damp cloths on her hands, wrists, and forehead to help reduce her temperature. Now, we need to prepare a special remedy to bring down her fever. Do you know which herbs we should use?¡± she asked, motioning towards the basket beside her stool.


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    ¡°I do know which herbs might be beneficial. If you permit me, may I take the basket and prepare the medicine?¡± I asked.


    Hearing this, Ruseppa shot me a glare and furrowed her brows.


    ¡°Mother Arwa, I called you here to treat my only daughter, not your apprentice, who can barely walk straight. How can I possibly trust him with my child¡¯s well-being?¡± she scoffed, glancing at the sick girl.


    Ignoring her words, I began sifting through the basket of healing ingredients.


    ¡°Ruseppa, my apprentice may not have made a good impression on you, but I trust his knowledge completely, and if necessary, I will assist him in preparing the remedy. I will check to ensure he makes no mistakes,¡± Arwa reassured her.


    The woman was clearly displeased, but she had little choice. In truth, she was fortunate to have found a healer for her child at all. In these times, people often did not live long due to inadequate medical care.


    I selected thyme, turmeric, and dried jida leaves from the basket. Arwa¡¯s face lit up with approval as she observed my choices.


    ¡°Well done, my boy. You¡¯ve done exactly as I taught you,¡± she said.


    As I showed the ingredients to Arwa, I realised¡ªthanks to Siri¡¯s assistance¡ªthat by combining these elements, I had discovered an effective compound. It included a plant resembling wild rosehip, rich in vitamin C.


    ¡°What are you planning to do with the rosehip, child? Don¡¯t tell me you intend to use it?¡± Arwa asked curiously.


    ¡°Yes, Arwa. I plan to add it to the remedy, even making it the primary ingredient. I¡¯m certain it will be highly effective in reducing fever,¡± I said.


    ¡°Child, I may not understand why you¡¯re so confident, but if we are to proceed, you must obtain the mother¡¯s approval. Even if the herbs you¡¯ve chosen are not poisonous on their own, we cannot be certain they won¡¯t become toxic when combined,¡± Arwa cautioned, resting her hand on her chin.


    With Siri¡¯s knowledge and my experience from the old world, I had already tested various plant combinations. I knew rosehip dissolved easily in water and, through my experiments, had discovered its richness in vitamin C. This vitamin was effective in reducing fever. However, I had no idea how to explain this to Arwa in a way she would understand.


    ¡°I assure you, I cannot allow my daughter to consume some unknown drug. If anything were to happen to her, my husband would beat me to death,¡± Ruseppa said sharply.


    She seemed uneasy every time she mentioned her husband¡¯s name.


    ¡°Ruseppa, Alek has never disappointed me. I trust him completely, and I believe his new remedy will be effective. By the gods¡ªespecially Tarhun-Tata¡ªI swear that we will not allow any harm to come to your daughter,¡± Arwa declared solemnly.


    Ruseppa tried to ignore Arwa¡¯s words, but she could not bear the thought of losing her child. It made me realise how difficult it was to make decisions when one was desperate.


    She remained silent for a moment before finally nodding her approval.


    Tears welled up in her eyes as she knelt by her daughter¡¯s bedside.


    ¡°Oh great gods, hear my voice. Do not take my firstborn, Essa, from me. Almighty gods, who hold the power to rid us of suffering, heal my daughter. You are the sole givers of life and health. There is no other healer but you,¡± she murmured, burying her head into the bed as she wept quietly.


    ¡°Alek, now that you have her approval, we must begin preparing the remedy as soon as possible. Don¡¯t worry¡ªI will assist you wherever needed,¡± Arwa said with a sigh.

 Chapter 21

    Ruseppa was, by nature, a sceptical woman, but she knew that when Arwa swore an oath before the gods, she would honour it. In this world, the will of the gods was an undeniable truth; when people made a vow, they bore its weight. To break such a promise was to invite divine wrath upon oneself. This was precisely why Ruseppa trusted Arwa.


    Despite the short time we had spent together, Arwa¡¯s unwavering faith in me deeply moved me. I had to do everything in my power to ensure I did not betray that trust or weaken her belief in me.


    Preparing medicine from herbs was no longer a mystery to me. What I had learned from Arwa and Siri had built a vast reservoir of knowledge in my mind, allowing me to understand how different plants combined to bring healing. I crushed the selected herbs with the cool metal of the mortar, extracting their essence. Their sharp yet pleasant scents drifted softly through the room, as if nature¡¯s deepest secrets were whispering in the air.


    As I mixed the ingredients together, Arwa observed me carefully, nodding her approval. Then, she rose from her stool, took a deep breath, and went over to Ruseppa, trying to reassure her.


    I gently took Essa from her mother¡¯s arms and sat her at the head of the bed. The little girl¡¯s tired eyes locked onto mine, filled with both exhaustion and sorrow. I offered her a gentle smile and helped her drink the medicine slowly. Even as her small hands trembled, she displayed remarkable strength for her age. She finished the drink in silence, closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath.


    Whether she would escape the clutches of illness, only time would tell¡ªor, as the believers of this world would say, the gods alone would decide her fate.


    Though Arwa did not like Ruseppa, she understood the pain of a mother shedding tears for her child. The woman¡¯s desperation was etched into her tear-streaked face.


    ¡°Mother Arwa, our past may not have been the best, but please, pray to the gods¡ªnot for me, but for my daughter,¡± Ruseppa said, her voice trembling.


    Before the words had even fully left her lips, Arwa was already seated by the little girl¡¯s bedside.


    She gently placed her hands on Essa¡¯s forehead, took a deep, heartfelt breath, and closed her eyes tightly. Then, in a voice that rang through the room like a soft melody, she began to pray:


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    ¡°O mighty Tarhun-Tata, ruler of the highest heavens, hear our prayers! Grant healing to this child¡¯s body, peace to her spirit, and strength to her mind. Do not send her to the dark earth before her time; let her remain among the living so she may one day see the children of her children. In the name of the gods, grant her life and protect her soul in your sacred presence!¡±


    When Arwa withdrew her hands and opened her eyes, the atmosphere in the room had shifted.


    We had done all that was within our power; now, all that remained was to wait and see whether Essa would recover.


    ¡°Do not grieve, Ruseppa. We are but humble servants of the gods. They give life, and they take it away. If Essa¡¯s fate is in their hands, then we must submit to their will,¡± Arwa said, fixing her aged eyes upon Ruseppa.


    The woman remained silent, but I could see the storm of emotions raging within her. The hardest thing for a mother was to wait in helplessness. Yet, we had done everything we could.


    I picked up the basket of healing herbs, and Arwa and I made our way out of the room. Ruseppa stood by the door to see us off. She hesitated for a moment, lowering her gaze to the floor before looking back at us.


    ¡°Mother Arwa, please wait a moment. I do not want you to leave before I have repaid my debt to you. It will only take a moment¡ªI will return shortly,¡± she said, her voice softened.


    Arwa shook her head. ¡°Ruseppa, I was here for the sake of you and your child¡¯s well-being. The gods have already given me all I could ask for. You need not give me anything in return.¡±


    But Ruseppa was resolute. ¡°No, Mother Arwa. You have done so much for my daughter. And¡­ I regret the things I have said about you in the past. Please, forgive me and accept my gift.¡±


    Arwa gazed into her eyes for a moment before responding in a gentle voice.


    ¡°When a person recognises their mistakes and seeks forgiveness, their heart is cleansed. I sincerely thank you, Ruseppa. Whatever the gift may be, I will accept it.¡±


    Ruseppa bowed her head in gratitude and went inside to fetch the basket.


    ¡°Arwa, what did she say about you in the past that she now seeks forgiveness for?¡± I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.


    A shadow passed over the old woman¡¯s face.


    ¡°My child, she once told me of a tragedy that happened long ago. I do not have the heart to speak of it further. Please, do not ask me any more about it,¡± she said, her voice unsteady.


    I immediately regretted asking. I wished I had remained silent.


    A short while later, Ruseppa returned with the basket in her hands.


    ¡°Mother Arwa, we are a poor family and have little to give. But I ask you to accept this basket as a token of our gratitude. Also, I will have the boy¡¯s soiled clothes washed and sent back to him. As for the garments he wears now, they are our gift to him.¡±


    Arwa accepted the basket in silence. ¡°I will pray to the gods for your daughter¡¯s health, Ruseppa,¡± she said softly.


    ¡°Thank you for the clothes,¡± I added. My eyes searched for Walma, but she had not come to see us off.


    Without another word, Arwa and I set off on our way home.

 Chapter 22

    We had to return home before nightfall. The road lay deserted, a lonely path where many unseen perils might lurk. In the wild, hidden in the shadows, beasts of prey could well be lying in wait. In my old world, each passing day saw another species fade into extinction, yet here, the land teemed with creatures in a richness long forgotten. Within the dark caverns dwelt sabre-toothed lions, bears striped like tigers, and many other perilous beings I had neither seen nor heard of before. Though I had not encountered them with my own eyes, I had learned of them through Daneel.


    I had no desire to meet such creatures. Fearsome though they were, they rarely ventured close to human dwellings. From what Daneel had told me, certain hunters sought them out, capturing and selling them, be it alive or dead. But such things were of little concern to me. What mattered now was traversing the mountain path with utmost caution.


    I turned to Arwa. She was weary, her mind wandering after the long and exhausting journey. Seeing her fatigue, I shifted all the baskets into one hand and offered her my other arm, hoping to lend her some support. Arwa, noticing my gesture, gave a small smile. With her cane tapping against the ground, we resumed our walk.


    Lost in thought, Arwa suddenly turned to me with a faintly mischievous smile.


    "My dear, did you take a liking to the girl I told you about? I have known her since she was but a child. She would make a good wife for you," the old woman said.


    At her words, for some reason, my heart pounded wildly. A warmth crept up my face, my cheeks flushing red. Arwa must have noticed the change in me, for she let out a knowing laugh, her wrinkled face breaking into an almost impish grin.


    "Arwa," I muttered with a slight grumble, "as I told you before, I am far too young to be thinking of marriage. Besides, Walma is a few years older than me¡ªit would not be proper."


    Arwa let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "Alek, soon you shall be a man grown. Do you not wish for a wife to look after you? She may be older, but she is fair and capable. She will keep your belly full and your home warm. There is no need to rush, just think upon my words," she said, her eyes gazing deeply into mine with a sincerity that unsettled me.


    I did not wish to argue with her. I chose silence instead, for sometimes silence was the best reply. Arwa, sensing my unwillingness, merely responded with a triumphant smile. And then, after a long pause, she began to sing in a voice softened by age yet still carrying the echoes of an old melody:


    "There was a shepherd''s son Like a shadow on the hill And he went out one May morning To see what he could kill


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    And sing, blow away the morning dew, The dew and the dew! Blow away the morning dew, How sweet the winds do blow


    He look-ed high, he look-ed low, He cast another look And then he spied a pretty maid Aside the watery brook


    And sing blow away the morning dew, The dew and the dew! Blow away the morning dew, How sweet the winds do blow"


    With Arwa''s song carrying through the cool evening air, the soft whisper of the wind intertwined with her voice, wrapping the moment in an ethereal, otherworldly calm. Though her voice was frail and slightly off-key, I found myself wishing the moment would never end. There was an enchantment to it, as though the very land was singing with her.


    Yet not all moments are destined to last.


    From nowhere, Siri''s mechanical voice rang coldly in my mind, slicing through the peace like a knife.


    "An unidentified creature is approaching within one hundred metres. Due to insufficient data, its nature cannot be determined. The creature may be dangerous. Immediate evacuation is advised¡­" Siri''s emotionless voice pronounced.


    But for the first time, something was different. Was it my imagination, or did I detect the faintest tremor of worry in its usually unshakable tone?


    "One hundred meters ahead, an unidentified creature is approaching. Due to insufficient data, classification is impossible. Caution advised: the creature may be dangerous. Immediate departure is recommended..." Siri''s monotone voice rang in my mind, but this time, there was something different.


    A trace of¡­ urgency. An emotion I had never thought to hear from a machine.


    I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I turned my gaze toward the dim-lit trees in the distance.


    Then, I saw it.


    A shadow moved between the trees, at first indistinct, a mere ripple in the darkness. But it grew larger, solidifying into a form. The faint rustling of leaves became overshadowed by another sound¡ªa low, guttural growl, like distant thunder rolling across the hills.


    Arwa, unaware, continued her song. The melody, once carrying a trace of mirth, faltered slightly, a discordant note slipping through her tune. She must have sensed something too.


    Then, from the trees, a form emerged.


    My heart pounded in my chest, every fiber of my body tensed. Arwa, clutching her staff, squinted at the growing shadow in the distance.


    A great beast stood in the clearing before us¡ªits frame like that of a lion, yet larger, its fangs long as daggers gleaming in the dimming twilight. The creature''s hide, striped like a tiger''s coat, rippled with raw power, its fur bristling as if charged by some unseen force.


    Then, the moment of stillness was broken.


    Siri''s voice echoed in my mind, colder than ever before:


    "A creature of undefined origin is approaching within one hundred meters. Due to incomplete data, identification is not possible. However, the entity may pose a significant threat. Immediate action is recommended..."


    For the first time, I detected something new in Siri''s voice¡ªa hint of tension, perhaps even concern.


    I clenched my grip on the baskets, shifting them to one hand, and gently took hold of Arwa''s arm with the other, steadying her. She turned to me with that ever-present, knowing smile, but I could see the weight of the day''s toils upon her frail frame. The evening''s shadows lengthened across the mountainous path as we pressed forward. The rustling of the trees, the distant hoot of an unseen creature, the whisper of the wind¡ªit was a melody both tranquil and foreboding.


    And then, upon the jagged rock ahead, a shadow loomed¡ªdark as the void, still as death.