Little Lioran slowly turned his head.
His mother was coming out of the restaurant kitchen; her hands were still slightly wet, and her apron carried the scent of food.
With the same short, emotionless voice, Lioran said,
"Nothing important, Mom…"
His mother frowned slightly and stepped closer.
"But I heard shouting. Don't tell me… you got into another fight?"
Lioran avoided her gaze.
He lowered his head and muttered,
"I told you… it wasn't anything important."
His mother sighed.
She flicked his forehead lightly.
"Lioran. You can't lie to me."
The boy raised his head and looked into his mother's eyes—
the same eyes that always brought him peace.
His mother knelt down in front of him.
She placed both of her hands on his small shoulders and, with a serious expression—yet full of worry—said,
"You're strong, my dear. But I want you to use that strength to protect others… not to hurt them."
"But… it was their fault."
Lioran wanted to explain why,
but his mother gently cut him off and said,
"In this world, people will always do things or say things that you and I think are wrong."
She looked straight into her son's eyes.
"Can you go around hitting all of them? No… you can't."
Lioran paused for a moment. His voice grew quieter.
"Then what should I do?"
His mother gave a faint smile—one that looked more like a memory than happiness.
"In moments like this… act like your father."
She continued softly,
"A man who, despite being the strongest being in this world, was kind to the weak.
And even when people insulted him… he chose to overlook it."
Lioran frowned slightly.
"But I've never seen him.
I don't even know what kind of person he was."
For a moment, his mother fell silent.
Then a warmer smile appeared on her lips—a smile full of certainty.
"One day, you will see him.
Your father has the most beautiful heart and the purest soul in this world."
Lioran answered without hesitation, in that same cold yet honest voice:
"The most beautiful heart and soul… belong to you, Mom."
At his words, his mother's eyes filled with tears.
Her lips trembled, and with a voice thick with emotion she said,
"Oh… my dear boy…"
Then she pulled Lioran tightly into her arms.
"You have a beautiful heart and soul too, my dear…"
At that very moment—the restaurant door opened.
The creaking of its hinges shattered the warm, intimate atmosphere.
Lioran's mother immediately let him go. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and, in a voice that tried to sound normal and welcoming, said,
"Good evening… welcome."
The customer stepped inside, glanced briefly around the room, and then walked over to one of the tables and sat down.
Lioran's mother called out loudly,
"Mary! Come take the order."
Then she placed her hand on Lioran's head, gently brushing his hair. She smiled and said kindly,
"I'll bring our food soon too, alright?"
Lioran nodded, and his mother walked back toward the kitchen.
And suddenly—
In the blink of an eye, everything before Lioran's eyes burst into flames.
The walls, the tables, the voices—vanished in an instant, replaced by enormous flames stretching as far as he could see.
The ground beneath his feet began to glow—hot, cracked, and molten.
Lioran took a step back. Then he froze. His breath caught in his throat.
"What… happened here?"
His voice trembled.
"Where's the restaurant? Where did all this fire come from?"
Smoke rose into the air, yet it never reached him.
The heat could be felt, but it did not burn him.
And then he remembered his mother.
His heart dropped.
"Mom…?"
He said her name softly, then shouted with all his strength,
"Mom! Where are you?!"
He turned his head—
and the world stopped.
His mother was pinned against the trunk of a burned tree.
Two arrows had pierced her body—
one straight through her face,
the other through her stomach.
Blood flowed slowly and heavily from the wounds, dripping onto the ground below.
"What happened… Mom… who did this to you?!"
Lioran screamed with all his strength and ran toward her.
"Mom—!MOmmmm..."
And at that exact moment, Lioran jolted awake in terror.
His breathing was fast and broken. His chest burned with every breath. Cold sweat covered his face and neck.
Sunlight filtered through the branches above, falling across his nearly naked body—a warm light, yet merciless, as if reminding him of something.
It took him a few seconds to realize where he was.
The forest.
Silence.
Reality.
"Was that a nightmare?"
Lioran's eyes locked onto a tree a few steps away—a dry, black, lifeless tree.
Its trunk was cracked, its branches brittle and dead, as if life had not passed through it for years.
And there—
his mother's body was pinned to the trunk.
Her clothes hung loosely, unmoving.
Her skin had lost all color; it looked as if not hours, but years had passed since her death.
Not even a trace of energy remained in her body—
as though a gray mist had devoured the last remnants of her life.
Lioran's heart sank—not with a sound, not with tears—
just a deep emptiness.
He didn't look away from the scene. Slowly, in a voice that sounded more like a confession than words, he said,
"I think… it wasn't all a dream."
A gentle wind passed through the trees.
The dry branches creaked.
And for one brief moment—
it felt as though the scent of blood still lingered in the air.
"My mom's body is right in front of me… the mom who always cared for me…"
He slowly placed a hand over his chest, where his heart was beating unevenly.
"But why don't I feel anything?Could it be… that I never really loved her?"
His fingers curled against his chest. His breath caught for a moment.
"No… that's not it. If I didn't love her… then what is this pain in my heart? What is this damn pressure that won't go away?"
A few seconds of silence. Only the sound of the forest.
Then—
a familiar voice rose, from somewhere closer than his own breath.
"Are you awake, Lioran?"
It was Anahita's voice, coming from within his inner world.
Anahita stood in the heart of that endless darkness—or perhaps it was more accurate to say she was barely holding on. Her body had become translucent, as if she might dissolve into the surrounding void at any moment.
Lioran's gaze remained fixed on the same cursed spot.
In a cold, tired, lifeless voice, he answered,
"Yeah…"
He paused briefly.
"Why aren't you coming out?"
Anahita realized that Lioran still hadn't noticed the devastation he had caused. In a calm voice, she said,
"I don't think you've noticed yet… Look more carefully at your mother's body—and at everything around you."
Lioran held his breath and lowered his gaze.
His mother's body…
It no longer looked like someone who had just died. Her skin had faded, dry and cracked, as if years had passed since her death.
Two arrows still pinned her body to the tree. But that tree—
it wasn't green, and it wasn't burned.
It was dry, dead, and black. Like a bone that had lost its soul.
"What… what happened here?"
He looked down at the ground beneath his feet.
It was black. Dead.
Everywhere he looked, the trees were the same—standing, yet lifeless.
The air smelled of death. Not the scent of blood. Not the scent of fire—
the scent of an ending.
His heart tightened.
"Who did something like this?"
"You did," Anahita replied after a short silence.
"What? Me?"
Lioran's voice cracked with disbelief. His eyes darted between the dead trees and the blackened ground.
"When did I ever do something like this? What do you mean I did it?"