Chapter 9
The dream
A four-year-old girl stood close to her mother in the kitchen. She held onto her mother's dress gently, watching carefully as her mother cooked. The warm smell of food filled the room, and the soft sound of chopping and sizzling surrounded them. Then, suddenly, a six-year-old girl ran into the kitchen. Her small feet tapped quickly against the floor.
"Mom!" she called excitedly.
In her hand, she held a wooden sword, lifting it proudly as if she were a brave warrior. The four-year-old girl looked at her with wide eyes.
The mother turned from the stove, surprised for a moment, then smiled warmly.
"What are you fighting today?" she asked gently.
The kitchen filled with laughter and childish energy. The six-year-old lowered her wooden sword and looked up at her mother with shining eyes.
"Okaa san… tell me a story," she said softly, almost pleading.
The younger child moved closer too, curious and excited.
Their mother wiped her hands gently and knelt down to their level, smiling.
"What kind of story do you want tonight?" she asked.
The kitchen felt warmer than before not from the fire, but from the closeness between them. The younger girl clapped her hands happily.
"Princess story!" she said with bright excitement.
But the elder girl quickly stepped forward, holding her wooden sword up.
"Okaa-san… no!" she said firmly. "Tell us a story about a warrior!"
She swung the wooden sword lightly in the air, her eyes full of determination.
The younger one looked between her sister and their mother, unsure which story would win.
Their mother laughed softly.
"Hmm… a princess… or a warrior?" she said thoughtfully.
The warm kitchen waited for her decision.
Their mother's smile faded slightly, turning mysterious.
"Then… I will tell you a story about a devil,"
After hearing that, the two girls slowly turned and looked at each other.
Their eyes were wide.
Then, at the same time, they both looked up at their mother.
"Okaa-san..." they said together, stretching the word in surprise and slight protest.
Their mother smiled softly and touched their heads gently.
"Sorry, my little pumpkins," she said warmly.
The girls blinked at her. Her voice was playful now, no longer mysterious. mother gently lifted each of them and placed them carefully on top of the kitchen table. Their small legs dangled over the edge. The wooden sword rested beside them. She stood close, making sure they were steady and safe. "Sit still," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from one girl's face. The warm light of the kitchen surrounded them as they waited for the story to begin.
"Long ago, grandma and grandpa were walking along a path beside the sea. They were holding each other's hands. Their steps were slow and heavy. They did not speak at all. Their faces were very sad… but they kept walking."
The girls stayed quiet, listening closely as the soft sound of the imagined waves filled the story.
The younger girl tilted her head slightly.
"Okaa-san… why are they so sad?" she asked softly.
Her small fingers curled against the edge of the table.
The elder sister also looked up, curiosity replacing her earlier excitement.
Their mother paused for a moment, her eyes gentle.
"Because," she said softly, "they had lost the home they lived in."
The young girl lowered her eyes.
"So sad…" she whispered softly.
Her small voice carried real feeling.
The mother gently reached out and touched the young girl's cheek.
Her fingers were warm and soft.
"It's alright to feel sad," she said quietly.
The little girl leaned slightly into her mother's hand.
The elder sister watched silently, her expression softer now.
The kitchen felt calm, filled with warmth and comfort.
The mother continued softly:
"After walking for a long time, they suddenly heard a sound…"
She lowered her voice slightly.
"It was like a child crying."
The two girls sat very still.
"The sound came from near the rocks by the sea," she went on gently. "Soft… weak… but clear in the quiet wind." They slowly turned toward the place where the sound was coming from," the mother continued. Holding hands tightly, they walked carefully in that direction. Step by step, they followed the faint crying.
"Then they stepped onto the sand, moving closer to where the sound was coming from near the rocks. The wind brushed against their clothes as they walked. The crying grew clearer. It was coming from the side of a large rock near the shore. They looked at each other for a moment… Then slowly moved around the rock to see what was there."
The mother continued in a soft voice:
"When they looked beside the rock, they saw a baby lying on a piece of wood.
The baby was covered in a wet cloth, soaked from the sea.
The two of them looked at each other in shock.
Without wasting a moment, the grandma hurried forward and gently picked up the baby. She quickly removed the wet cloth and threw it aside.
Then they realized… it was a boy. His tiny body was very cold from the sea wind. The grandma carefully wrapped him in her own dry cloth, holding him close to keep him warm. The grandpa looked around the beach, searching to see if anyone else was there. "As the grandma held the baby close, the grandpa suddenly noticed something lying in the sand nearby.
There… half-buried near where the baby had been lying…
was a sword."
He walked slowly toward it.
Then he slowly bent down and tried to lift the sword.
It was heavy… much heavier than it looked.
For a moment, it did not move.
But he gathered his strength and managed to lift it from the sand.
When he held it properly, he realized something important.
This was not an ordinary blade.
It was a knight's sword." "The grandpa looked around again… but he could see nothing.
The beach was empty.
No footprints.
No voices.
No boats.
Then he turned his eyes toward the sea.
Far out on the water, only broken pieces of wood were floating… drifting slowly with the waves."
The wind carried the salty air across the shore.
The elder girl's eyes widened with excitement. "Really, Mama? It was a knight's sword?. Was it handsome?" she asked eagerly, leaning forward. Her fingers tightened around her wooden toy sword again.
The mother smiled softly.
"Yes," she said gently. "It was a beautiful sword.
The younger girl frowned slightly.
"Okaa saa… why was the baby lying on the sand?" she asked softly.
She hugged her knees, her voice full of worry.
The mother looked at her gently.
"Because," she said in a calm tone, "the sea brought him there."
She paused for a moment. The mother smiled softly and brushed the girl's hair back.
"That…" she said gently, "is another story."
Both girls blinked in surprise.
"But Mama—!" the elder one began.
The mother laughed quietly.
"Every story has its time," she said warmly. "Tonight, we will finish this one first."
The mother continued in a calm voice:
"Then the grandpa walked back to the grandma's side.
She was still holding the baby close to her chest.
They looked at each other for a long moment… and simply smiled.
No words were needed.
The grandpa carefully tied the sword to his back.
Then, together, they began walking forward along the shore—
The grandma carrying the child.
The grandpa carrying the sword.
And the wind following them quietly." "After walking for a long time, they finally reached a village.
Small houses stood close together, and smoke rose from the chimneys.
As they entered, the people of the village began to notice them.
They looked at the old couple with quiet curiosity.
Some saw the baby in the grandma's arms.
Others noticed the sword tied to the grandpa's back.
Whispers began to spread.
The villagers wondered where they had come from…
"One of the men from the village stepped forward.
He was strong and serious, his eyes careful.
He walked toward the old couple and stopped in front of them.
'Where have you come from?' he asked calmly. The grandpa bowed his head slightly and spoke in a tired voice.
"We have come from far away," he said. "We lost our home. It has been a long walk… and we are very tired."
His words were simple, but heavy.
The villagers looked at the couple more carefully now.
The grandma held the baby closer.
The sword remained silent on the grandpa's back.
The wind passed through the village street as everyone waited to hear what would happen next. The villager narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Why are you carrying that sword?" he asked, his voice cautious.
The grandpa stood straight but calm.
"For our protection," he replied quietly.
He did not remove the sword from his back. The grandma stepped forward gently, still holding the baby close.
"Please… allow us to live here," she said softly. "We cannot walk much farther. We are too tired."
Her voice trembled, but her eyes were steady.
The villagers looked at one another.
The man who had spoken before remained silent for a moment, thinking.
The wind moved lightly through the street.
The baby stirred in the grandma's arms.
All waited for the village's answer.
The man looked at the tired couple for a long moment.
Then he let out a slow breath.
"Okay…" he said at last.
The villagers murmured softly.
"You may stay," he added. "But you must follow the village rules."
The grandma bowed her head in gratitude.
"Thank you," she whispered.
From the crowd, a kind lady stepped forward.
"I will take them," she said softly.
She led the old couple through the village path.
The grandma followed carefully, still holding the baby close.
The grandpa walked beside her, the sword resting quietly on his back.
The lady stopped in front of a small, simple house.
"You can stay here," she said gently.
The kind lady looked at the baby in the grandma's arms.
She smiled softly and asked, "What is the baby's name?"
The grandma and grandpa looked at each other for a quiet moment.
The room felt still.
The baby stirred gently, wrapped in warm cloth.
The two girls looked at their mother with wide, curious eyes.
They leaned forward at the same time.
"What is his name?" the younger one asked quickly.
The elder girl gripped her wooden sword, waiting for the answer.
Their mother smiled softly, seeing their excitement.
The mother's voice became soft and steady.
"The grandma looked down at the baby boy in her arms.
She gently touched his tiny forehead.
Then she lifted her eyes and spoke clearly.
'Ermin…' she said.
The name felt quiet… but strong.
The grandpa nodded slowly.
The elder girl repeated softly,
"Ermin…"
The younger one quickly looked up.
"Mama, what does it mean?"
Their mother smiled gently. The mother gave a small shrug and smiled.
"I don't know," she said gently. "Sometimes a name becomes strong because of the person who carries it."
The elder girl's eyes suddenly shone with excitement.
"Then that baby boy will become the strongest swordsman!" she declared, lifting her wooden sword proudly.
The younger sister gasped in admiration.
The mother chuckled softly.
"Maybe," she said. "Or maybe… he will become something even greater."
The room filled again with imagination. The mother clapped her hands softly.
"Okay, today's story time is over," she said with a gentle smile. "Both of you, go take a nap."
The elder girl groaned quietly.
"But Mama—!"
The younger one yawned without meaning to.
The mother laughed softly.
"Heroes and princesses need rest too," she said, lifting them down from the table. The wooden sword was left behind as the two girls slowly walked toward their room.
Mother took them into their room.
Inside, there were two small beds placed side by side.
Each girl climbed into her own bed and lay down quietly.
The elder sister kept her wooden sword beside her pillow.
The younger girl turned onto her side, already feeling sleepy.
Their mother pulled the blankets up carefully, covering them to their shoulders.
She tucked the edges in gently so they would stay warm.
"Good night," she whispered softly.
The room grew quiet as both girls slowly drifted into sleep.
elder girl whispered softly,
"Okaa-san…"
The mother stopped and turned back.
She walked to the elder girl's bed and sat down beside her.
Gently, she placed her hand on the girl's forehead.
The elder girl looked up, her eyes half-closed with sleep.
"Ermin…" she murmured. "Where did the boy come from?"
mother looked at her daughter, "He came," she whispered softly, "from the land where all magic is born."
Her voice was calm, almost like a lullaby.
"A place far beyond the sea… where fate and magic meet."
The elder girl's eyes slowly began to close.
"From a magic land…" she murmured faintly.
The mother brushed her hair once more.
"Yes," she said quietly. "A land that chose him."
The elder girl slowly drifted into sleep.
The room became quiet.
Outside, it was a full moon night.
The sky was clear.
The village lay peaceful and calm under the silver moonlight.
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In the midnight
the elder girl began to hear distant screaming. At first, it felt like part of a dream. But the noise grew louder. Her eyes slowly opened. She looked around her room. The air felt strange. The light was not moonlight anymore—it was red. She saw her mother standing near the door, carrying her little sister in her arms. Her mother's face was filled with fear.
"Sweety!" she shouted urgently. "Come fast! We must get out of here!"
She jumped out of bed and ran toward the door.
As she stepped into the hallway, she looked outside—
And froze.
All the houses were burning with fire.
Flames rose high into the night sky.
The red light swallowed the full moon.
They reached the front door.
But outside—
Every house was already burning. The wooden walls cracked and collapsed in flames. Fire surrounded them. There was no clear path to escape. The heat was growing stronger. The mother looked around quickly. There was no time. No choice. she decided. With all her strength, She grabbed the elder girl's shoulders and pushed her hard out of the doorway.
"Run!" she screamed.
The elder girl fell onto the ground outside the house. But before the mother could follow A large burning wooden beam crashed down. It blocked the doorway. The fire roared between them. The mother and the younger girl were trapped inside. The elder girl stood outside, staring at the burning house.
Through the flames, she could see her mother… holding her little sister.
Fire surrounded them.
The heat burned her skin.
Her heart felt empty.
Hopeless.
She looked around the village.
Everywhere was fire.
Everywhere was screaming.
No one was coming to help.
Tears filled her eyes.
"Mother…!" she cried.
From inside the burning house, her mother's voice broke through the roar of flames.
"Dodo…!" she shouted weakly. "Don't look back!"
The fire grew stronger.
"Run!" her mother screamed. "Run away!"
The elder girl trembled.
The flames rose higher between them.
Dodo cried loudly.
She stood in front of the burning house, unable to move.
Tears streamed down her face.
"Okaa saa !" she screamed again and again.
And suddenly, Dodo woke up from the dream.
She sat up quickly in her bed, her heart pounding.
"Okaa saa!" she cried loudly into the dark tent. She was sweating.
Her forehead was wet.
Her hair stuck to her face.
Her hands were cold, but her body felt hot.
Her heart was beating very fast.
It felt like the fire from the dream was still around her. Still breathing heavily, Dodo wiped the sweat from her face.
She slowly stood up and stepped outside the tent.
Cool morning air touched her skin.
She looked up.
The sun was rising.
The Ice Valley slowly turned gold under the rising sun.
The snow and frozen cliffs reflected the warm light, shining like fields of melted gold.
For a moment, it looked peaceful.
Beautiful.
Dodo's breathing slowly began to calm.
She turned her head toward the fire pit in front of the camp.
Atoi usually sat there before sunrise.
But this morning—
The fire was low.
Only a few red embers glowed in the ashes.
Atoi was not there.
She looked around carefully.
He was nowhere to be seen. She quickly turned and ran back to the tent.
She pushed the flap aside and rushed inside.
"Kaya… Kayaku!" she called, shaking him gently.
He stirred, still half asleep.
She looked at him with worried eyes.
"Atoi is missing," she said,
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"What do you think will happen next?"