As time passed, the bright remembrance of day slowly turned to evening.
Sky wiped the blood of the lamb from her cheek, letting out a soft breath that signaled her work was finally done.
Behind her, Adam remained crouched, focused on scrubbing the dark stains from his linen sleeves.
"You finished?" he asked, never taking his eyes off his work
Sky, without looking back, simply responded with a calm, "Yes, father."
She walked over to a patch of higher ground, placing a hand above her eyes to see better. Her gaze locked onto their distant house.
Noticing her stillness, Adam looked up. "What's wrong?"
"No, it's nothing," she uttered, her brow furrowing. "I'm just... not seeing Mother, is all."
Adam rose to his feet and walked over to stand beside her on the ridge. He looked toward the cottage, a shadow crossing his face. "Hmm. Usually she would have already been waiting, or making her way over to help us carry the meat."
He turned to Sky, his voice dropping. "Go on home. Call for your mother."
Sky nodded once before turning and running off into the twilight.
Adam watched Sky's retreating figure for much longer than he should have. Finally, he turned back to what he was doing.
As Sky neared the house, a sharp, loud scream shattered the quiet, startling her mid-step. She recognized it instantly—the voice belonged to Niel.
Sky quickened her pace. Hurrying to the front of the house, she threw the door open, but when she stepped inside, she was met with an oddly confusing sight
"Ahhhh!!!!! Don't press so hard!" Niel complained.
Neela ignored the outburst, rubbing his back in a state of absolute focus. "Stop being such a crybaby. You asked me to do this."
"I asked you to apply it gently," Niel retorted, "not to injure me further!"
Sky stared at the scene before her, a puzzled expression spreading across her face.
"What's going on in here?" she asked.
Her gaze drifted to the strange greenish mixture coating her mother's hands. Remembering her father's request, she pushed her curiosity aside and chose not to ask about it.
Hearing her voice, both Neela and Niel turned toward the doorway.
"Oh, honey," Neela said, blinking in surprise. "When did you get here?"
Sky took a few steps forward.
"Just now, Mother," she replied.
As she drew closer, her attention shifted to the assortment of unfamiliar plants spread across the table beside Neela. Some had been neatly chopped into small pieces, while others soaked in bowls of water, their leaves steeping as though their essence was slowly being drawn out. She studied them in silence, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
Right that seems to be enough, Neela said while rubbing the green paste on her apron.
Niel sat up straight and lifted his arm and touched his neck ribs and waist testing his mobility.
Neela turned from him, holding the long strips of cloth she had carved out of his extra tunic. She frowned at the fabric, then at him. "Remind me again why I am ruining a perfectly good garment for a man who isn't even bleeding?"
"To keep everything in place," Niel answered simply. He kept his voice level, dropping his gaze to watch her hands instead of meeting her eyes. "If I don't bind it tight, the swelling will lock me up. I need to stay moving."
Neela simply stared at Niel with a puzzled expression. "Does that really help?" she questioned.
Niel's gaze finally met hers, his brow furrowing. "Wh… what do you mean?"
Sky crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly much more interested in the conversation. She leaned back, studying Niel's face and taking in his genuine bewilderment.
"When a person is injured, it's only natural to wrap it up," Niel said. He looked between them, his voice rising. "Are you telling me you guys don't do that here?"
Neela stared at Niel, stunned by his words. A long, heavy silence fell over the room before she finally whispered, "No."
Horror washed over Niel's face as a forgotten memory resurfaced. He had noticed it during the carriage ride here, but dismissed it too quickly. Now, the realization chilled him. They had passed several graveyards on the way—each one overflowing with endless rows of tombstones.
Niel inhaled slowly, a bead of sweat slipping down his cheek. He gripped the edge of the couch and leaned closer. "What? B—but why?" Panic and eagerness strained his voice.
In a burst of sheer panic, he pushed himself forward to argue. His weak hand slipped beneath him. He lost his balance, tumbling straight off the edge of the couch.
His head hit the floor with a loud, sickening thud.
Neela gasped and immediately rushed forward to help him. Sky stood up but froze, simply watching her mother scramble toward Niel. She didn't lift a finger to help.
Neela rolled him over and checked his face, realizing the impact had knocked him completely unconscious.
The frantic sound of Neela's voice calling his name began to stretch out, slowing down until it was nothing but a low hum. The pain in his head went numb. The darkness behind his closed eyes didn't stay black for long; instead, a warm, familiar light began to bleed through the shadows, carrying with it the faint scent of home..
The darkness of Neela's floor melted away into a field of vibrant green.
Little Niel was sitting in the lush grass, his small hands carefully picking wild flowers. A heavy medical book lay open on the ground beside him, its pages rustling in the warm breeze. Across from him sat Lorraine Adamson, his mother. She watched him, a soft, beautiful smile resting on her face—but beneath it hid a dark, lingering pain.
"Niel," she called out.
Her tone was incredibly gentle. She leaned forward, reaching out to cup his right cheek in her warm palm. "I'm sorry," she whispered softly.
Niel looked up at her, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Lorraine stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes searching his. "Right now, you won't understand," she continued, her voice heavy with regret. "As a parent, all I want is the best for you. But I'm afraid... due to my own selfish desires, I am making life harder for you."
She gently stroked his cheek, her kind smile turning into a more pained expression.
"You most probably want to go out and be like the other kids your age," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper before she finally lowered her gaze. "Have fun playing, and aspiring to be a hero... I'm sorry for making you learn instead of letting you enjoy your childhood."
Feeling a sudden warmth on her hand, she lifted her gaze to see, holding his small hand against hers. He was wearing the brightest smile imaginable.
"Mother, discovering and learning new things is the best thing ever," Niel said, his eyes shining. "I don't know why Mother is apologizing. I'm really so happy that Mother got me to do this."
Hearing those words, her lips pressed into a thin line as her brows drew together almost imperceptibly. She lowered her gaze for a brief moment, afraid that if she met his eyes, the ache welling inside her would become impossible to hide. A quiet sadness settled over her features, carefully restrained behind the composed mask she had worn for so long.
Lorraine's lips curved into a soft, genuine smile, the tension melting from her shoulders as she looked at his bright face.
"I see," she said, her voice a fragile, tender whisper. "If that is what you truly desire, then I am happy, Niel."
She leaned in closer, but as she did, the warmth in her touch suddenly vanished. Her thumb stalled against his skin, turning bone-chillingly cold against his cheek. Her smile flattened into a vacant, glassy stare that didn't seem to look at Niel, but right through him.
She gripped his hand. Her fingers felt like frozen iron, tightening with a slow, unnatural strength that sent a sharp shiver down his spine. Around them, the vibrant green of the garden began to rapidly wither. The bright sunlight bled away, fading into an unsettling, ash-pale gray.
"But Niel, remember this always," she whispered, her face inches from his now. Her voice had lost all maternal comfort, echoing hollowly as if they were suddenly trapped inside an empty tomb. "The outside world is not a place for people like us."
Niel snapped his eyes open, staring up at the wooden ceiling. He was no longer on the floor; someone had moved him onto the bed.
"Not a place for people like us, huh..." he muttered to the empty room.
He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. He ran a tired hand through his hair, staring blankly ahead. "I think I'm starting to see what you meant by that, Mother."
His gaze drifted down to his own torso. To his utter surprise, the long strips of torn fabric were wrapped snugly around his body, stabilizing his injuries exactly the way he had wanted.
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He let out a soft, amused chuckle.
Unbeknownst to Niel as he laughed to himself, the bedroom door was cracked open. Standing just outside in the hallway was Sky. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest as she stared through the gap at his smiling face.
"What a weirdo," she muttered to herself.