The south forest was quiet, with an almost calming sound of wind rustling through the tall grass. The scent of sap clung to the air.
She knelt near a patch of moss, carefully slicing away the blue-spotted leaves she needed, while Aria sat cross-legged on a nearby rock, watching in silence. Her little legs dangled just above the ground, and her eyes scanned the woods like she was trying to be useful. Or brave.
"You're good at staying quiet," Liora murmured without looking up.
Aria didn't reply, but she smiled softly.
The basket was nearly full. Just a few more herbs, and they'd head back.
Liora turned toward the next cluster, her fingers brushing aside a fern
A low growl froze her in place.
Then, A dark blur exploded from the underbrush.
Liora's instincts took over. She twisted as a forest-stalker lunged from the side, slashing out with her blade. Her sword met bone with a crack, but not before claws raked across her shoulder.
She grunted as she stumbled.
The forest-stalker landed hard beside her, dazed but not dead. It snarled, circling again for another strike.
Liora dodged, blood already soaking into the leather strap of her armor. Pain flared sharp and hot, but she didn't hesitate. As the forest-stalker leapt once more, she ducked low and drove her sword upward, catching the forest-stalker clean beneath the ribs.
It hit the ground and didn't move again.
Silence returned, sharp, ringing, broken only by the sound of a short gasp.
Liora turned. Aria stood frozen by the rock, eyes wide and wet.
"Hey," Liora said, trying to sound steady. "I'm fine. Just a scratch."
But Aria didn't move. Her small frame trembled, and then she ran.
Straight to Liora.
The girl threw her arms around Liora's waist, burying her face in the bloody folds of her cloak.
"I'm okay," Liora said again, awkwardly resting one hand on Aria's head. "Look, see? I'm not even limping."
But Aria's little body shook against her, and Liora realized she wasn't just scared.
She was crying.
Soft, broken sobs.
And in between those sobs, barely audible, was a word.
"…Mommy…"
Liora froze.
The forest stood still. Even the wind seemed to pause..
She looked down at the child clinging to her like she was the only solid thing in the world.
Mommy.
Not "Liora." Not "miss." Not "lady."
Just… mommy.
Liora's hand trembled. Then she crouched, one arm gently wrapping around Aria's back, careful not to brush the fresh cut on her shoulder.
She didn't say anything.
She just held her.
By the time they returned to the guild, Aria had cried herself to sleep.
Liora's arm was bandaged, poorly, but it would hold until they got home. She carried Aria all the way, the girl's arms still wrapped around her neck, her face hidden in Liora's shoulder.
Inside the guild, Merin raised a brow at the blood and the bundled child.
"Don't ask," Liora muttered, placing the filled basket on the desk.
Merin counted it quickly, slid over a pouch of coins, and waved her off with a shrug. "Still breathing. Good enough."
That evening, back at the inn, Liora lit a small lamp in their room and sat beside the bed while Aria slept against her side.
The girl's tiny hand rested against Liora's chest, and her breathing had finally slowed to a peaceful rhythm.
Liora stared at the flickering flame of the lamp, her thoughts circling.
Mommy.
She'd been called a lot of things in her life. Warrior. Mercenary. Sword-for-hire.
But never that.
And now… she wasn't sure she could ever go back to being anything else.