Morning came faster than the blink of an eye.
Damien woke to the sound of loud yelling coming from downstairs. His dark, shining hair was a mess, like storm clouds covering a sunny sky. He ran his pale hand through it, trying to look at least a little decent, and then headed down.
The house was simple but filled with warmth. In the center stood a large wooden table big enough to seat five or six people. On the wall opposite it hung a small but charming painting of a forest, giving the little home a touch of elegance. In the corner lay some of his father's hunting tools, scattered carelessly across the floor.
At the table, his mother Liora was preparing breakfast. His father wasn't there—if he had been, Liora would already be scolding him for leaving hunting tools inside the house. She never liked hunting, always despising the idea of harming animals. But because they were poor, she had no choice but to let her husband continue his work.
Damien crept up quietly behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and hugged her from behind."Good morning, Mother."
She turned her head with a gentle smile. "Good morning indeed, Damien."
Her calm reply caught him off guard. She wasn't even a little surprised. Damien frowned—had his hunting skills dulled so much that even his mother could sense him sneaking up on her?
A true hunter should always be silent and swift, his father had taught him. Damien was an excellent hunter himself, even good enough to surprise his father on occasion. And his father wasn't just any hunter—he was known throughout the entire Kingdom of Rainheart.
So how did his mother always sense him?
Damien sighed in defeat. "Ahh, I give up, Mother. I can never surprise you. How can I even call myself a hunter like this?"
He tried to pull his hands away, but Liora caught them tightly and smiled. "You should never call yourself just a hunter, my Damien. You are not someone who simply kills the innocent."
She turned fully toward him, still holding his hands. "Don't worry about surprising me. You've already surprised me—by how much you've grown. I couldn't ask for more."
If an outsider had seen them, they might have thought the two were siblings—or even lovers. Not because of how they acted, but because of how much they resembled each other. They shared the same dark, shiny hair, the same snow-pale skin, and the same deep blue eyes. Villagers often said that an angel like Liora could only give birth to another angel—Damien.
Damien scratched his nose awkwardly, trying to hide his embarrassment. But Liora only gazed at him, her eyes shining like stars in the night sky, as though she had discovered a rare diamond.
"Why is my mother so young and beautiful?" Damien thought to himself. "Come to think of it, there isn't anyone in the whole village who even comes close. Not even the fresh young girls can compare."
At last, Liora let go of his hands and returned to preparing the food. On the table, she set down a heavy pot of vegetable soup, steaming and rich with ingredients. Damien could see carrots, tomatoes, and fresh herbs waiting to be added.
When she poured the soup into a bowl, Damien rushed over, grabbed a chair, and sat down. From the smell alone, he knew it was going to be delicious.
"Even the king himself can't enjoy meals like this, made by my mother!" Damien laughed, rubbing his hands together like a beggar who hadn't eaten in days. He devoured the soup eagerly.
Liora simply watched him with a quiet smile. She whispered under her breath, "Oh, my sweet Damien." Her eyes never left him—not for a single second.
When he finished eating, Damien set down his spoon and frowned."Mother… aren't you going to eat again today? You never eat dinner with me. Not even once in all my seventeen years. Why?"
It wasn't as though she starved. Liora loved apples—fresh, red apples. Every evening after hunting, Damien would bring her a full bag of them, and every time she ate them with a joy as pure as a child receiving candy for the first time.
Still, her smile never faltered. In a light, cheerful voice she answered, "Don't worry about me, Damien. I already ate with your father before he went hunting."
Damien sighed but smiled faintly. "Ha… every time it's the same answer. Mother, I'll head back to the village now and see what's going on there."
With that, he pushed his chair back, bid farewell to Liora, and stepped outside into the heart of Flowerfield.