Neela could be seen in the kitchen of their modest home.
Through the window, she watched Sky running toward Adam without Niel.
As she watched her daughter speak with Adam, Neela fell into thought.
Sky was their youngest daughter—the one who had sworn never to fall in love.
Yet, as both a mother and a woman, Neela couldn't help but remain sceptical.
After all, her daughter was a woman, and women were bound to eventually fall in love.
Neela's train of thought was shattered by a heavy thud from outside.
She frowned and made her way toward the front door. The sound had been loud enough to disturb the quiet atmosphere of the morning.
She pulled the door open.
For a brief moment, she simply stared.
Niel lay sprawled across the ground before her, his body covered in dirt, bruises, and scrapes. His clothes were torn in several places, and he looked as though he had been dragged through a battlefield.
"What in the world happened to you?"
Niel looked up at her and tried to speak, but before he could utter a word, he coughed violently.
Seeing his condition, Neela immediately rushed to his side and helped him to his feet.
As she looked over the bruises and scrapes covering his body, she shook her head.
"Just how beautiful must this princess be," she asked, "for you to go through all of this?"
Niel didn't answer.
Instead, he reached out and grabbed Neela's arm.
"Please... hold me up," he said weakly. "I don't think I can stay standing."
Neela placed a hand against Niel's back while he gripped her arm for support.
Niel's gaze was unfocused. Rather than explain himself, he slowly closed his eyes and began regulating his breathing.
A slow inhale.
A brief hold.
A controlled exhale.
Another hold.
The pattern repeated several times, each breath measured and deliberate.
Neela watched as the trembling in his body gradually subsided.
Just moments ago, Niel had barely been able to stand. His breathing had been ragged, yet after doing nothing more than controlling his breaths, he looked noticeably better.
To Niel, it was merely a simple breathing technique.
To Neela, it was something she had never seen before.
Niel slowly opened his eyes.
"Lady Neela," he said weakly, lifting his head. "I have a request."
His silver eyes met her brown ones.
Neela blinked.
"A request?" she repeated.
"What kind of request could you possibly have of me?"
"Please," Niel said, his voice still weak. "Let me teach you something."
Neela stared at him.
"Teach me something?"
Of all the things she had expected him to say, that had not been one of them.
"What on earth could you possibly teach me, young Niel?" she asked.
"Medicine," he replied softly.
Releasing her arm, Niel slowly straightened himself.
Though bruised and battered, there was an unexpected confidence in his posture.
"Let me teach you the art of medicine."
As time passed, the bright remembrance of day slowly faded into evening.
Sky wiped the blood of the lamb from her cheek and let out a soft breath, signalling that 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 as she tried to see better.
Her gaze locked onto their distant house.
Noticing her stillness, Adam looked up.
"What's wrong?"
"No, it's nothing," she replied, 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.
"Hmm. Usually, she would have already been waiting or making her way over to help us carry the meat."
He turned to Sky.
"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 a moment before turning 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's voice echoed through the room.
Neela ignored his outburst, rubbing his back with a look of absolute focus.
"Stop being such a cry-baby. 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.
"What's going on in here?"
Her gaze drifted toward 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."
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 were slowly being drawn out.
She studied them in silence.
"Right, that seems to be enough," Neela said while rubbing the green paste onto her apron.
Niel sat up straight and lifted his arm. He touched his neck, ribs, and waist, testing his mobility.
Neela turned from him, holding the long strips of cloth she had carved from 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 stared at Niel.
"Does that really help?" she questioned.
Niel's gaze finally met hers.
"Wh... what do you mean?"
Sky crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.
"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.
A long silence fell over the room.
Then she finally whispered,
"No."
Niel froze.
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 slipped 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 frustration, 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, 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 until it became nothing more than a low hum.
The pain in his head faded.
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 sat in the lush grass, his small hands carefully picking wildflowers.
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 with a soft smile resting on her face.
But something in her eyes remained troubled.
"Niel," she called out.
Her tone was gentle.
She leaned forward, reaching out to cup his right cheek in her warm palm.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Niel looked up at her, his brow furrowing.
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.
"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 Niel 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."
Lorraine's lips pressed into a thin line.
She lowered her gaze for a brief moment before looking back at him.
Then her lips curved into a soft smile.
"I see," she said, her voice barely above a 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 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 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 smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
He let out a soft, amused chuckle.
Unbeknownst to Niel, 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.