Mannat was surprised at first, then grew excited to see another person at the clearing beside the Witch. The old hag was too unsightly. She stank and was creepy throughout. Hopefully, it would be someone his age so he could have a conversation.

He stopped whatever he was doing and hurriedly stood up. He didn’t move out of the garden, however. He would go out if it were someone he knew, otherwise… back to work. He liked the thought and nodded softly. A glance back at the hut showed no activity from the Witch’s side. Perfect. Either the Witch didn’t know about the coming guest --which was impossible, since she even knew about his father leaving home in the village-- or she wasn’t interested in welcoming the guest. It was probably the latter-- most likely.

Slowly, the cart approached closer, pulled by a very familiar brown horse with white socks. Shocked and surprised, a smile unknowingly grew wide on Mannat’s face. He knew who it was!

“Father,” he mumbled in yearning and found his feet galloping through the garden, leaving behind foot deep impressions in the dirt. He was dead.

The cart was still far, but he could see the strong man sitting in the driver's seat. Raesh, his father, wore brown pants and a loose half sleeve shirt that had lace spreads at the neck. He looked better, had shaved and cut his hair so they were finger length and combed straight back.

Mannat’s heart trembled. A nervous shaking took his hands. He glanced back at the hut again, this time with forlorn expectation.

Please, don’t come out. He prayed.

The witch heard him, or she had disappeared somewhere again because she didn’t appear to disrupt the boy from meeting his father. Goosebumps had his arm hair standing straight as Mannat made for the narrow dirt road skirting the garden.

His father didn’t notice him at first; Raesh was staring at the hut with hardened-unshaken eyes, but then he noticed the figure rushing toward him. His head turned sharply and eyes glared. Then he noticed the thin boy coming toward him and couldn’t look away. Raesh pulled the reins in a hurry, and Bhadur’s front feet took off from the ground. Bhadur neighed in pain before falling back to the ground. He snorted and shook his head to bear the sting, but didn’t angrily kick his legs around in a fit. He was simply... too smart.

Mannat’s heart was pounding inside his chest when his father jumped down from the cart. Their eyes met. Both saw each other. One smiled, and the other frowned. Raesh looked at his son from head to feet. Face covered in dirt, sweat dripping down his forehead, shirtless, pants muddy, and shoes nonexistent. In one day, Mannat had forgotten everything his mother had taught about keeping appearances.

At this moment, a blackbird, obviously, the raven, descended from the sky. It didn’t attack them but tried to take perch upon Bhadur’s head. The horse disagreed. “Leave him alone!” Raesh yelled. Perhaps, the bird got scared; it backed off, took flight, and didn’t disturb them again.

Mannat didn’t see the bird or his father’s expressions. He jumped over the fence, ran, and fell into his father’s arms. At that moment, his heartbeat was loud enough to fill his ears. Raesh could also feel his small heart drumming crazily through their contact and tightly held him.

In one day, both of them had changed. Mannat didn’t smell the musty odor of sweat from his father; while Raesh felt a string of bubbling emotions from his son.

No one said a word, and they didn’t let go of each other. The moment was exactly like a past memory coming to the surface and repeating itself.

Half a decade ago, Raesh had gone alone to find Mannat in the woods at night, and once again he had come back to find the boy in the woods. A slippery tear slipped down Mannat face and he rubbed his eyes on his father’s shoulders. Raesh could hear him sniffing and softly rubbed his lonely back.

They took their time before separating from one another and finally looked at each other.

Both had their changes. The boy had grown up and the man had aged in a single day. Raesh grabbed Mannat’s hands and looked at his calloused, ink-dyed palms. Mannat also watched the dark circles under his father’s faintly red eyes.

Raesh rubbed his large thumb over Mannat’s small hands and asked, “What were you doing in there?”

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“Gardening…” Mannat said wiping his face on the forearm. It made the dirt spread further on his forehead. Raesh wondered if he should tell the boy or let him find out later. He decided to let it be; the boy looked surprisingly good covered in mud.

A blush grew on Mannat’s face when he saw surprise and confusion contort his father’s face. Even he had doubts about the Witch’s method of training when he had first heard her talk about it, but the results were apparent. Her method, though unique and absurd, worked; and he wanted results. He needed them direly.

“She’s making you do labor?”The words grew louder as they rumbled out of Raesh’s throat. Mannat hurriedly corrected him.

“No, no, father; it’s to cook food and train my skills.” He hurriedly pointed toward the hut, exactly at the pot boiling over the fire. They could hardly see it from there, but the pillar of white smoke rising to the sky guided them to its location.

However, Raesh wasn’t convinced. He knew a thing or two about training and he had never heard of someone doing gardening to improve their skills. Not only was the notion absurd, but it also angered him.

Mannat’s heart grew worried when Raesh face-hardened and his eyes grew distant. He was looking at the hut. Did he want to confront the witch? Mannat gripped his father’s shirt. Raesh looked at him, saw him worried and relaxed. He was only letting the matter rest for now. He would deal with it later. Witch or not, he would not let her treat his son as a laborer.

Raesh exhaled loudly to release the tension. It seemed to work, as Mannat grip on his shirt slacked. “How is your mother?” He said. He didn’t show it, but his voice betrayed his emotions. It came out sad and solemn.

Raesh wasn’t worried about the Witch’s promise to help. That woman had never come short of a promise even once in her life. However, that was his wife, his dear, the love of his life! How could he not worry about her? He didn’t show it, but he was an emotional mess inside.

“She stable now,” Mannat said and grew silent. The quiet was aggravating.

He controlled the tears from flowing, but his eyes still grew wet. Raesh saw them and the happiness they had found fizzled out like the last spark of life in a dying fire.

“Is she awake?”

Mannat clenched his fist and shook his head. “NO.” he whistled out helplessly and dropped his head.

Raesh pulled his head up and said, “I want to see her.” His voice was firm, emotionless. That was not a suggestion, but an order.

Mannat had heard that tone of voice a lot in the smithy, but he was still not used to it. His legs stiffened and he subconsciously grew attentive. Mannat was going to speak but paused; his eyes looked away in thoughts. Was it possible to show the underground chamber to his father? Not possible. Would the Witch agree? Absolutely not.

“That not possible,” Mannat said without hesitation. “It’s not safe.”

“Did the witch—“

“No,” Mannat interrupted his father, but he didn’t explain. “Please, don’t worry. She’s in safe ha — she’s safe. Please, don’t try to take her away. I can help her. Believe in me,” Mannat said and though Raesh frowned hard, he didn’t force the boy. He knew his son the best. Others might say shit about the young boy, but he knew how hard the boy had worked, and how smart he was. Mannat wouldn’t tell him to not worry unless he knew exactly what he was doing. It made sense, but Raesh still wanted to see his wife, Noor.

“I want to see her,” Raesh said and stood up straight. His explosive muscles became taut, ready to burst with unquestionable, hard strength. “You take me to see her or I’ll go by myself,” he said, but Mannat didn’t falter. He shook his head.

“She’s not in the hut,” Mannat told his father, and Raesh’s thoughts turned awkward for a moment. He looked around. There was only that one hut in the clearing. There was a garden, a tree, and a hut. There was nothing elsewhere the Witch could have kept his wife.

He could force the boy to tell him…

A gust of wind brought a break in their conversation. It also opened a small distance between them. The wind was cold and biting but passed away as quickly as it had come. It calmed them both and gave them time to decide what they wanted to do.

Mannat thought his father would persist, but Raesh easily gave up. The hunkering man let the stiffness out with a breath. He nodded. “Alright,” he said and shrugged his head to point behind the boy. “So, what are you cooking?”

Mannat jumped up on his feet and turned back in a hurry to see the pot, before facing his father again. “Carrots,” he said. “And some potatoes, with ginger and garlic,”

Raesh’s lips twitched with each word he heard and a shallow pink blush crept upon Mannat’s face. He knew what his father would ask.

“Is the Witch turning you into a pig? Where is the meat?”

Mannat grieved. “Where am I going to find meat out here in the woods? You don’t expect me to travel to the village and back every day for meat, do you?”

“Is she forcing you to stay away from the village?”

Mannat thought about it. The Witch had never said that. He simply assumed it because of things. That reminded him…

“How’s Pandit? Did he—did he wake up?”